#spiderman x plus size reader

[bitchyycapricorn]

Is She Really Your Girlfriend?

•Peter Parker x Reader•

Masterlist

Word Count: 5k+

Synopsis: After getting a new boyfriend, Y/N starts failing her classes.Her parents set her up for some extra help. Until that extra help becomes too helpful.

WARNINGS: smut, praise kink, cheating (with peter), oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex

(AN: Not edited)

“How did I get myself into this mess?” You wondered to yourself as you knocked on the apartment door. You knew exactly why you were here, and that it was in fact your fault. You always kept good grades. After all, you were an A and B student depending on the subject, and that had never changed. Well, until this year. Suddenly your grades were slipping and your once A subjects were Cs and your once B subjects were Ds. So your parents did the only thing they could think of, hire a tutor. 

You were brought back to reality as the door opened to reveal the curly haired boy that the school had recommended to your parents to help you out. “Hey Y/N” he said with a small smile, gesturing for you to come inside. 

“Hi Peter,” you said while returning the smile. You stepped inside and thanked him for making the time to help you out, even though you knew deep down your parents had offered him a good amount of money to take you under his wing. 

“My aunt isn’t here right now so we can set up our stuff over there,” Peter said as he led you into his living room and over to the couch. His backpack was already leaning against the table and his notebooks were placed on a neat stack on top of the coffee table in front of the couch. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” He offered, awkwardly pointing over to the kitchen. 

“No I’m good for now, thank you for offering though.” You said while taking a seat on the couch. Peter joined you and began to shuffle through some of the loose papers in his math notebook. Peter shifted slightly and looked over to you nervously. “I uh.. your mom said you really needed help in math.” His voice was quiet and a bit shaky, he looked almost scared to be in your presence. 

“Yeah... I’m not doing too hot in math right now.” You admitted, offering a warm smile and a small laugh to try and ease the tension. Peter only nodded and began to explain the latest lesson to you. You kept your focus for the first 15 minutes or so before slipping back into your thoughts. You couldn’t help but to feel stupid. Not because you were failing, but because it was Saturday. Sarah’s big Senior party was tonight and at this very moment, you should’ve been with all your friends getting ready. You weren’t actually a party person, the noise was usually too much and everyone always reeked of alcohol. The only reason for your sudden appearances at every single party that was thrown was because of your new boyfriend, Flash Thompson. He liked to show you off and you liked the attention. And that was the issue. Suddenly parties, your friends, and Flash became your top priorities and school was completely tossed aside. You felt like you had a certain reputation to keep up now. Your friends were nice enough to set you up with Flash and you weren’t going to let them and the rest of the school down. You and Flash were perfect for each other. It was like everyone said, pretty and rich were the best combination. You had fed into this belief so much that it was until after you tearfully agreed to be Flash's girlfriend that you realized something: you didn’t like Flash. So now you spent most of your time convincing yourself that those emotions would come with time. That soon enough you would be head over heels for Flash and the two of you would truly make the perfect couple. The only challenging part was keeping Flash off of you until those feelings came. You didn’t mind the occasional kiss, or the hugs he would give you. You didn’t mind the hand holding either, mainly because that was mandatory couple stuff that you simply couldn’t get out of. You just couldn’t go any further with Flash. Meaning every time you found the two of you alone you had to find another excuse for why you couldn’t have sex. You were quickly running out of excuses despite only being together for about a month.

“Earth to Y/N” Peter waved his hand in front of your face once again snapping you out of your thoughts. “I know I’m boring but damn, have you really not been listening this whole time?”

“I’m so so sorry Peter, I really am. I was just thinking about other stuff and-“

“You were thinking about your boyfriend and how you’re missing the party with him tonight, right?” Peter cut you off. You looked away guiltily knowing he was not only right, but that you were being a total dick right now by not paying any attention to Peter's lessons. 

“Honestly yeah, I was. But I really do appreciate your help Peter. I’ll focus now I promise. No more getting distracted.” You swore holding up your pinky finger to him. 

Peter tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help but crack a smile at the gesture. He wrapped his pinky around yours and nodded.“Alright, let’s get to it then.” Peter smiled.The rest of the lesson went by pretty quickly and you didn’t get distracted again until the very last part of your physics run down. You were still paying attention to Peter, just not his words. You had noticed him a hundred different times before and each and every time you were reminded just how attractive Peter Parker really was. But there was always a social boundary that kept the two of you apart. That boundary wasn’t around when the two of you were alone though, so you let yourself look at Peter in a way you wouldn’t dare to at school. You looked at how soft and fluffy his hair looked. How his soft curls fell effortlessly. Or how his chocolate brown eyes lit up when he would talk about something that excited him. Would his eyes light up like that tonight when he told his Aunt about your study session together? Would his cheeks flush the way they did every time he looked at you when he told the story as well? What would his lips taste li….

This time you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. “Wait, can you actually explain that last part again? You had me and then I was lost and I thought I got it again but I actually don’t.” You sputtered trying to avoid looking at Peter's lips again.

“Oh yeah of course!” Peter beamed, re-explaining the section. You thanked him profusely as you both began to pack your stuff up.

“I will see you again on Tuesday right?” You asked while slipping your backpack onto your shoulder.

“Yep, that’s correct. See you around 5:30?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“That works for me! See you Tuesday Peter.” You waved before exiting his apartment. 

Peter watched the door close and let out a sigh. He had been pining after you for years and couldn’t believe you had finally come over, even if it was by force. Peter’s cheeks heated up just thinking about how close the two of you had been. He couldn’t wait to tell Aunt May everything, even if he knew that to you, it was just a study session.

+++

It had been about three weeks since you and Peter had started meeting three times a week to study together. You met Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays. With Peter's help on catching up and a designated time to do your homework you found it wasn’t hard to get back to where you needed to be grade wise. All your grades were back up and you and Peter were only planning to meet for another week or so to make sure you maintain your grades. You weren’t going to complain of course, you found you really really liked Peter's company. Much more than you had liked the company of some of your friends…and Flash. And days like this were always nice when you had the place to yourself the whole day since May had to go out of town for work.

“Okay…” Peter began as he looked through your list of classes. “We never covered anatomy, did we?” He finished with a frown.

“Oh, we don’t have to worry about anatomy! I’ve always had an A in that,” you beamed proudly.

“Thank goodness,” Peter chuckled, “cause honestly, I have no clue what’s going on in that class.”

“What? You mean…Peter Parker for the first time ever doesn’t…doesn’t know something?” You gasped in the most exaggerated and dramatic way possible. 

Peter let out another soft laugh and shook his head. “Too much going on, too many bones and tissues and just…what?” 

“Here, I’ll teach you a trick that’s always helped me.” You smiled, grabbing his hand softly. “Okay, so when I’m trying to learn where something is I try to find it in my own body and just lightly press there. It’s actually better to do it on another person, and lucky for you I’m here.” You say guiding his hand to your rib cage. “See, if you press here you can feel my floating ribs.” Peter's eyes widen as you guide his hand over to your body. His fingers make contact with your sweatshirt and he can feel his whole body heat up. 

“Y-yeah,” Peter stutters trying to keep from passing out. Peter had never touched you like this before. You had both gotten extremely close over the last two weeks and had “touched” one another. As in you had hugged Peter, and playfully bumped his hip while you occasionally cooked dinner and made snacks together but never had he touched you, or anyone for that matter, like this.

“Oh shit, you probably can’t feel a thing with my sweatshirt being so thick,” you said, quickly pulling it up before placing Peter's fingers back where they were before. Peter's eyes fluttered closed as he sucked in a breath. Your skin was so warm, you smelled so sweet right now. It was his favorite perfume on you out of all the ones you owned. Now your smell was as intoxicating as ever. He was so deep in his thoughts he hadn’t even realized he had fully placed his hand on your body, no longer just his finger tips. 

You let out a small gasp at the feeling of his cool hand on your skin as you focused on his face. “P-peter,” you whispered softly. Peter's eyes fluttered open again, realizing that he had fully placed his hand down.

“I-I’m, I didn’t mean-” Peter stuttered, beginning to pull his hand away. You placed your hand on his quickly to stop him from pulling away. 

“Peter…I-” you sucked in a breath and stared into his soft brown eyes that you had fallen deeply in love with over the last few weeks. “I really like you Peter.” Peter’s eyes widened even more as he tried to find the right words. 

“Y/N..but..Flash..” he managed to get out. His heart was beating faster now, you said the words he had dreamed of you telling him for years now. But he knew it was an impossible dream still, even though you had said it.

“I don’t like Flash,” you said, moving closer to Peter. “He doesn’t make me laugh like you do, he doesn’t make my heart flutter, he doesn’t excite me, he doesn’t make me feel anything…” your lips were now inches apart and Peter wasn’t sure if the gap was going to, or even should close. “My friends set me up with Flash, I tried to like him…but you’re the person I want. Whenever I’m with him I think of you…I wish it was you kissing me, holding me…Everytime Flash asks me to sleep with him I wish it was you. I want it to be you so bad I say no every time Peter.”

Peter couldn’t take it anymore, He didn’t care if Flash would run him over with his car or make his life a living hell. All he cared about at that moment was you.

Peter's lips pressed against yours and his grip shifted down to your waist. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck as you drew him closer to your body. “It’s so hot in here,” you mumbled, pulling away from Peter's lips. “I think we should take our clothes off..”Peter nodded before realizing what you said. 

“Y/N, I haven’t, I don’t know..I’m” Peter fumbled over his own words looking at you like a deer in headlights.

“Peter, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I didn’t mean to push you,” you whispered softly. “And, I  haven’t done anything sexual either. I just know that I would like it to be with you. Even if it isn’t now but in the future..” you said, pressing a soft kiss to Peter's lips.

Peter melted into the kiss while pulling you closer once again. “I’m really nervous, but I want to do this.” He said with a small laugh. You gave him a wide smile quickly kissing him again. You continued to make out until Peter was hovering over you and positioned between your legs.

“You know we still have our clothes on right?” You giggled as Peter pulled away for air. He gave you a dorky smile as you lightly tugged on his blue Midtown shirt. He sat up slightly so he could take it off. You could feel your jaw drop as Peter pulled the shirt over his head and allowed it to fall to the floor. “Peter what the fuck,” you gasped. You ran your hand down his chest, pausing at the band of his sweatpants. “You are like, super built…” you said in awe.

“Yeah…I know I don’t really give off that impression. I assume you’re pretty relieved I’m not like super scrawny.” He said, shifting his gaze to the side. If you two were in this position a few years prior Peter wouldn’t have had his spider bite and he would have been super scrawny.

“Peter Parker,” you said, grabbing his chin lightly so he was looking at you again. “I could care less about what build you have. I only gasped because I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I care to admit. So yeah, I would’ve gasped regardless. Since personally, I just think you’re hot.” 

Peter felt himself melt into your touch realizing he had nothing to worry about. You liked his body because you liked him. “I know you’re still fully clothed, but I know that once you’re not I’m going to absolutely love your body as well. I mean, I love your body with clothes on, I just would love to see you without them on,” Peter rambled sheepishly. 

“Take my clothes off Peter,” you cut in with a soft smile. Peter froze, slightly hesitating as he grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt. You sat up and helped him lift it off your body. “Now take my bra off Peter,” you whispered while guiding his hands behind your back. His mouth went dry as he fumbled with your bra clasps. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to admire you in a bra before you were having him take it off you. His shaky hands struggled for a moment before the clasps popped apart and your bra was sliding off your body. You tossed it to the floor with your other discarded clothes allowing Peter to take in the view in the process. “Now touch me Peter,” you murmured softly, letting your back hit the cushion beneath you. Peter’s hands slowly went to your waist, sliding up your body until he was lightly cupping your tits. He took in a slow breath as he ran his thumb across your nipple. He leaned down into your neck and began planting soft kisses anywhere he could. His hands softly squeezing your tits in the process. His kisses soon made their way down between your tits and you felt Peter pause. He gazed up at you for a moment before planting kisses onto your right tit. 

You shifted underneath him, letting out a soft moan as his lips wrapped around your nipple. “Peter…” You whined, tangling your hands in his soft brown locks. “Please.”Peter nipped lightly at your skin as he made his way over to your left nipple. Your back arched underneath his touch feeling a pool forming between your legs. Peter shifted his body so his thigh was pressed against your heat as he continued laying kisses all across your soft skin. You let out a shaky moan at his action and began to grind into his thigh desperately wanting relief. Peter’s hands trailed down your sides and gripped your hips, helping you grind into him.He leaned up to place a soft kiss to your lips before pulling his leg away from your heat. You let out a desperate whine as the knot in your stomach disappeared with the loss of contact. “Fuck Peter,” you groaned, “I want you.” 

Peter smiled softly, slipping a finger under the band of your sweatpants. “Can I?” He asked, beginning to slowly tug them down as you nodded profusely, letting out a string of moans. Peter slid the pants down your thighs and off your legs, your underwear coming off as well. He shifted his body downwards, placing your thighs over his muscular shoulders. You gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your heat. “You’re so pretty..” Peter praised as he pressed a kiss to your thigh.

“Mmm fuck, Peter please,” you pleaded. Peter placed his hands on your hips and pulled you forward. He leaned in fully now, making you whine. His tongue slowly circled your clit, as his thumbs rubbed  soft circles into your hips. Your hips slowly began to move with his motions as your hands made their way to his hair. Grabbing onto his soft curly, you pushed Peter's face into your heat. Your hips moved in a circular motion as you desperately searched for releases. He loved the way you were fucking his tongue. He loved the way you tasted and the way you were moaning his name. He loved the way your thighs trembled, and he was loving the way your body felt as it tensed up as you got closer.

“Peter!” You cried feeling the knot in your stomach finally snap. Your legs trembled and Peter held your body close, helping you ride out your high. You sat up slightly to look at Peter still between your thighs. He placed small kisses on your inner thigh making you let out a soft moan. “Peter,” you said, letting out a soft breath. “Thank you, you made me feel so good.” Peter smiled against your thigh as you bushed the loose curls off his sweaty forehead. “I want to touch you now, please.”

Peter let out a soft moan as he sat up to place a gentle kiss to your lips. “I would love that,” he whispered softly as he pulled away. Your hands slowly made their way down to his sweatpants. You dragged your finger over the thick band before continuing to trail your finger downwards. Grabbing one of the strings, you were able to undo the knot by simply giving it a light tug. Your fingers made their way upwards once again, this time hooking under Peter's waistband. You began slowly removing his pants while also helping him lay back in the process.Peter propped himself up on the pillow that was leaning against the armrest. You sat comfortably on his lap, gently grinding yourself on his clothed dick. 

Peter let out a shaky moan, his hands once again finding your hips. You dipped your head into the crook of his neck kissing the exposed skin. Your kisses were sloppy as you trailed them down his chest, scooting your body down the lower you got until finally you were laying between his legs on your stomach. You nipped at the skin of his v-line, while gently palming him through his boxers. “Oh fuck, that feels really fucking good,” Peter groaned, bucking his hips forward. You smiled against his skin, giving one last kiss before sliding down his boxers. You felt mesmerized by the sight of his aching cock. Peter hissed as you gently licked the precum off his red tip. Leaning in again, you sucked lightly on just the tip making Peter let out a throaty moan. “Y/N, don’t tease,” he begged while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You sunk down on his cock slightly further, making sure not to break eye contact as you did so. Peter gasped, placing his hand on the back of your head nudging you down even further. You moaned at the feeling of him pushing your head down onto his cock. Peter's breathing became heavy as he helped guide your head up and down his shaft. “F-fuck, uugg” Peter whined, thrusting into your mouth repeatedly. “Wait..fuck, I’m gonna-” Peter pulled out of your mouth quickly trying to avoid finishing before actually getting to fuck you.

“You alright?” You asked as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. Peter nodded with a smile, gripping your waist as you hovered over his body. He shifted you over into his arm so he could flip your positions. His body once again hovering over yours. Your legs wrapped around his torso, pulling his hips towards yours. “Peter,” you moaned, feeling his lips leave a trail of hot kisses down your neck and to your collarbone. “Peter please, I need you.” Peter kissed your forehead as he lined himself up and slowly pushed into you, causing you both to let out a string of low moans. 

“You alright love?” He asked, staying still to allow you to adjust to the sensation of him being in you. 

“Yeah,” you reply shakily, “I just really really want you to fuck me.” Peter is quick to oblige, thrusting into you slowly. His thrust becomes faster as he finds a steady pace, giving a few normal thrust before giving a good deep one. With each deep thrust your body quivers as you cry out Peter's name. Your nails dig into his back as you desperately cling onto him. He uses one of his hands to feel up and down your side, while his mouth leaves dark purple bruises on the side of your neck. 

You slowly move one of your hands down his arm and snake it between your bodies to rub your clit as Peter continues to thrust into you. Peter notices your action and is quick to swat your hand away so he can replace it with his own. “Let me touch you love, so you can use that hand to keep touching me,” Peter whispered in your ear. His words made you moan and your knees feel weak. The feeling of his thumb circling your clit made your body feel like it was on fire. 

As Peter's hips snapped into you slightly faster you felt the knot building up in your stomach about to break. “Peter I’m so close,” You cooed as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You pushed your tits up into his chest while arching your back. Allowing Peter to go even deeper. “Peter, oh mmm Peter!” You gasped, hands flying around his neck so you could hold him close as you came around his dick. 

Peter moaned at the feeling of your orgasm, helping you fuck out the rest of your high.“Ah, Y/N I’m close,” Peter groaned, burying his face in your neck. His hand had moved away from your clit and slid underneath your back so he could lift you into him. Your body flushed against his as Peter thrusted up into you a few more times, finishing in you as he moaned your name.Your body went slack, feeling suddenly heavy at the feeling of Peters dick twitching deep inside you. He laid you down slowly, kissing your cheek, then your temple, and finally your forehead as he rubbed soft circles into your thigh. “I’m going to grab a towel to clean us up,” Peter whispered while planting another kiss on your forehead. You moaned in response, unable to move. 

Peter pulled out of you slowly, causing you to moan again at the sudden loss of contact. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” Peter said as he slipped off the couch to grab a damp towel.He returned quickly with a warm damp cloth. He used it to gently clean the cum that was slowly leaking out of you and onto your thighs. He pressed soft kisses to your stomach and thighs as he cleaned you up, making you smile. 

You moved your hand up to Peter's head so you could run your fingers through his soft curls as he continued to leave soft kisses all over your legs. “Peter,” you rasped. Peter hummed, placing another kiss on your slightly bent knee. “I love you.”

Peter sat up to look at you, a smile breaking out on his face. “I love you too love,” he said, getting off his knees to lay on top of you so he could kiss your lips over and over again until they were red and swollen.

+++

You woke up late afternoon the next morning to Peters laying on top of you. His head resting just above your bare chest. One of his hands lies to his side while the other holds onto your tit. Your clothes are still a scattered mess on the floor. One of your hands was still tangled in Peter's hair while the other lay on his back. You began rubbing his back, causing him to stir. “Good morning,” Peter yawned, pressing a small kiss to the side of the tit he was holding.

“Good morning to you too,” you hum, kissing Peter's forehead. “I think I may have overstayed my welcome though,” you teased. 

Peter cracked a smile shaking his head.“You could never overstay your welcome. In fact, I’ll just tell May you’re going to live here from now on…. Oh FUCK!” Peter sat up suddenly looking at the digital clock near the TV. “May is going to be home any minute.” He exclaimed.

You both quickly pick up your clothes and scramble to get decent, cleaning up the area in the process. Just as you finish getting everything in place you hear May’s keys jiggle outside. You and Peter sit on the couch and pull you a random textbook to Pretend to be studying.

“Hey Peter I’m…oh hey Y/N.” May said, looking at you in surprise as she entered. “I didn’t think you and Peter were studying on Sundays?”

“I just really needed some extra help for the upcoming test,” You replied nodding towards the text book you and Peter had opened. May looked at the two of you hesitantly for a moment then shrugged. 

“Alright, well I’m going to go get some rest, good luck studying.” And with that May was off.

+++

It was Monday morning and you and Peter quickly realized May was a lot less scary than the boyfriend you forgot you had. Especially since you hadn’t checked your phone until the night before when you got back from Peter's house. Flash had texted you at least 50 times between three social media apps in less than 48 hours. Part of you had wanted to text him back and break it off then and there but you knew you couldn’t do it over text. You already fucked up big time by cheating on him. Part of you felt like it would be worse to also break up with him over texts. So, you lied and told him you tried a silent phone weekend to try and focus on yourself and your studies and you didn't mean to ignore him like that. That you just needed some time to think about some stuff. You had hoped this would be a great way into a simple, quick, breakup in person. 

Of course, you also didn't account for the hickeys that were littered all over your neck. You hadn’t noticed those either until you sat down at your vanity last night after already texting flash. It was mid October and even though you could wear sweaters to school, it wasn’t turtle neck weather yet. 

So there you were, sitting in your car Monday morning, your neck caked in makeup. You weren’t overly sure how you planned to do this now, you could still kind of see the hickeys even under all the makeup you had on. Not to mention, you felt sick to your stomach knowing you didn't plan to tell Flash the whole truth. It was time though, so you picked yourself up, and made your way inside.

The atmosphere of the school felt unusually cold when you stepped inside. People stopped to stare at you as you made your way through the halls. An occasional whisper passed amongst the crowds. How could they know though? Peter wouldn’t have told. Your friends didn't know. That’s when you felt all your friends arms around you at once.

“Y/N, we’re so so sorry. We had no idea Flash would do that to you!” Emily wailed. You looked at her beyond confused, what the hell could Flash have possibly done. 

“Oh shit, You don’t know do you?” Mia quipped up nervously.

“Sorry I don’t,” You gave an awkward smile as your eyes darted around your rather large group of friends. 

“So you haven’t seen the video of Flash making out with the girl at the party last Saturday?” Sarah asked, absolutely mortified. 

“Flash….cheated on me?” You asked as a smile began to creep onto your face.

“We’re really really sorry,” Gia said, rubbing your back softly.

“Speaking of Flash…” Kia nodded towards a clearly nervous Flash approaching your group. 

“Y/N I am so-” Flash started but you quickly cut him off. 

“Don’t apologize. I fucked up too. We both found someone else and that’s fine, let's just forget it and move on, okay?” Your response seemed to stun Flash, him and the rest of your friends. 

“What do you mean YOU found someone else?” Flash bit back annoyed. 

“Seriously? Flash we both cheated. We’re both horrible people. Honestly it's best we both just move on and forget this ever happened.” There were several gasps from your group as everyone looked around, clearly looking for who your Saturday night fling was. 

Flash took a deep breath and straightened his composure. “You know what, that’s fair. But since you know who I got with, who the hell were you with? You weren’t at the party Saturday night. You’ve had to get help at Pen- holy shit. Did you…You cheated on me with Penis fucking Parker? You’ve got to be kidding me. What? Did you hold his hand? Kiss his cheek?”

“Yeah, we were studying. She kissed my cheek, and suddenly I was kissing the inside of her thighs” Peter said with a smirk as he leaned up against the locker. 

Flash’s mouth fell open as he looked between you and Peter. “You- you’re telling me you gave my girlfriend head,” Flash’s face was bright red at this point. 

“Mhm, on my couch.” Peter shrugged. “In fact, we did a lot of things on my couch.” 

“Well, Flash, we gave it a try and it didn't work. Hopefully we can both be a lot happier with our new partners.” You said, offering up a sympathetic smile.

“I can’t believe you picked him over me,” Flash muttered.

 “I can.” Peter shrugged.

+++

TAGLIST

[bowieandqueen11]

Tobey!Peter Parker Dating A Plus Size Reader Would Include...

Request: Hello! I know I sent requests for "random request go!" so feel free to ignore me. I was just wondering - I was reading again your Spider-Man stuff (cause it is FANTASTIC <3 ) and I saw that in your note to "Andrew!Peter x Plus Size!Reader" you said that if anybody would ever want to, you'd be willing to write Tobey!Peter x Plus Size!Reader too. I was wondering if that's still the case. Cause if yes, I'd love to see it one day! No pressure of course, you can skip it if you want! Have a great day!

Oh my gosh lovely of course I will thank you so much, I didn't think anyone actually read those notes aha but I'm so happy you did!! Between Across the Spiderverse (which I still haven't seen yet I'm so slow!) and the Insomniac Spiderman trailer I am being well fed :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury!

(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fmribeiro01.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

I'm not joking even THINKING about this as a concept is making me squeal because like?? Tobey Peter?? Omg. Absolutely adores you. 24/7, non stop heart eyes motherfcker. Be ready for him to give you looks of such gut wrenching love and vulnerability that you'll just want to squish his cheeks together and kiss his forehead like the puppy he is.

You were 100% Peter's childhood crush, no question asked. You were always invited around to Peter's birthday parties, where the two of you would be thick as thieves for the whole night. Even poor exasperated Harry would find it oddly adorable when it was time to give Petey his cake, and he would bashfully pull out the chair beside him at the table for you to scoot onto. He thought he was so slick, bless his heart, when he reached over to fix your wonky party hat with his tiny shaking fingers, or shyly looked over at the rim of uneven frosting towards you when Aunt May carried out the homemade cake and told him to make a wish. You were always the last one to be picked up, despite living right next door: Ben, the sly old fox, could see how enamoured Peter was. How he had the firmest grip he had ever seen his nephew squeeze out around your arm, and how Peter stood holding the present you had given him in his other hand, not even noticing it because he was too busy fervently nodding and being strung along by every word you would say.

Ben would stall your parents at the door, blocking the way in by pretending to lean on his elbow, and spouting off about whether he was going to paint the living room a periwinkle or an egg shell blue. When your parents finally started to get impatient, you kissed Peter on the side of his cheek and left with a big wave, not really noticing the way he was standing stock-still, his fingers tentatively touching the side of his face and his mouth agape, blubbering like a blow fish. May has never seen him run so fast up the staircase, but Peter's so desperate to curl up alone under his duvet and thank whatever he can think of for making his wish come true, touching the wet imprint of your lips with a revered awe. Eventually, his giggling gets so loud during the night, that Ben has to come out and close over his door so he and May can get at least a little sleep.

A lot of your teenage years is spent with you jumping over your chain link fence in the middle of the night to meet a very anxious looking Peter, whose face quickly grows into a bright smile when he pulls the latest edition of the comic series you've been share-reading out from behind his back. Sitting on the cold tile by his garage, the night would slowly weave diamond dust through the sky, and sparkling joy through the irises of Peter's eye as the two of you stuck your heads together and poured over the pages. Every so often he would have to blink away, pretending he was fixing his glasses because you would catch the side-eye look he was giving you.

By the end of the night, you've fallen asleep, slobbering onto Peter's shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch: as still as marble, and doing his best to hold his breath so he doesn't rustle you, and so he can memorise the way your gratifying weight feels against the side of his shoulder. So he can imprint into his mind how tender your skin feels against his burning neck. It's only when Aunt May comes out to shake the two of you awake from the school bus that he runs into the kitchen all flustered. He grabs his backpack, and says goodbye, but refuses to change his jumper because he can still feel your imprint against the coarse wool.

From time to time that day, you'll peer round the door of your locker to catch him leaning into his, so giddy he's almost vibrating on the spot, which is probably why he's so distracted he bangs his head on the metal top of his own locker door oops.

Lunch that afternoon is even worse! Sitting diagonal across from Peter, you slide into the table next to an already frustrated looking Harry, whose kicking Pete's feet under the table and making incredibly unsubtle raised eyebrow points your way. He's so sick of the way his best friend will spend every minute of his time with you just staring: peering over his fruit pot, blabbering incoherently to himself with ruddy cheeks when he passes you the salt and your pinkie fingers brush, looking at your reflection in his spoon, pretending to stretch his arms and yawn just so he can 'look around the room', which also just so happens to be only the part that you're sitting in. He just wants his friend to be happy, and honestly, he's kind of dumbstruck that the two of you aren't together already, considering his eyes light up like gold-struck dawn every time he sees you.

It's only when Flash Thompson passes by and knocks Peter's elbow out from under him that he finally stops staring over at you. Mainly because his eyes are too busy slamming into his lunch tray, and breaking the bridge of his glasses down hard against his nose. The spell you wisp around his heart is finally broken when the blood starts gushing down his nose, and you have to half-carry him to the medical office. He spends 50% of the time walking there apologising to you, and the other 50% of the time is spent trying to stop his fingers from clenching into your arm. You've tucked him into your side, holding half his torso against you so he can spend most of his effort on pinching his nose, but he doesn't even care that he's swallowing blood anymore, he's so focused on how close he's pressed up against you. The feeling only grows more fervent, more needy, until he's twitching his thighs against the nurse's table to try and get himself to calm down, when you stay with him for the rest of the period to try and wipe some of the blood away. The way you're so close to his lips, the way that your gentle fingers are dabbing so close to his mouth that he can feel his rushing breath brush against your hairs is making him go cross-eyed with how much he's trying to focus on you.

'You know...', you start after a minute, biting your bottom lip nervously as you continued to dab at peter's nostril. 'I have eyes, Petey.'

'I-I know that, silly', he says, his breath coming out in a confused gasp. 'Me too!'

'I- I know you've been looking at me. Because I've been looking at you, too.'

His heart seems to be slamming into the caged cavity of his ribs, and yet everything seems to simultaneously be standing still: caught in a hazy, gliding, wavering dream as you slowly... ever so slowly drop the cloth into the sink, and break through the few inches between the two of you to press your lips against his top one.

For a moment, Peter is so shocked all he can do is widen his eyes, not even processing that the thing he's spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he was a child was happening right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own. After a few seconds though, when he hears the clattering of trays fall to the floor and the darkness he was letting himself fall willingly down into seems a little harder to blink out of, he realises the sound was him.

You're worried you've upset him, or stepped too far, or misconstrued his intentions when Peter falls backwards off you, but that's quickly replaced by frantic concern when he starts sliding to the floor. Thankfully, your reflexes are almost as good as his, and you're quick to wrap your arm around his back and cradle his head against your breastbone before he can slam his head against the floor again. He has to spend the rest of the day lying in the office's bed waiting until Uncle Ben can pick him up, but it was completely worth it. As he gazes up at the inane, plastered ceiling, suddenly everything else in life seemed so silly and pointless. All he cared about was rubbing his pointer finger over the wet patch of your saliva still dotted against his bottom lip, his eyes filled with a million bursting stars as he saw beyond the ceiling and into the skies, thanking it for making his birthday wish come true.

The two of you move into his crumby apartment after high school, and honestly? It's the happiest time in Peter's life. Sure, it may be small, and the walls may be flaky and they may shake every time a train rolls past the tracks outside, but every time he comes home to them he's greeted by the memories of the two of you laying against them like when you were kids, falling asleep against each other's heads as you read into the night. Sure, Ditkovich may hound the two of you constantly for rent, and the afternoons may be drowned out by the sound of his friends playing poker a couple of doors over, but they were so easy to forget in the evenings when you turned on your slightly dented radio and made a flustered Peter dance with you across the room, not stopping until you had him held tightly in your arms and he was so embarrassed with his two left feet that he was hiding his head in the curve of your luscious neck.

And sure, you may have picked up pretty quickly that Peter was Spiderman, considering he keeps hopping out the balcony at random hours and leaves his suit sometimes crumpled at the bottom of the closet, but you love him. And he adores you more than anything any universe could throw at him. So life, for the most part, is good.

Honestly, it's so cosy living with him?? Peter literally has spider strength, so he adores it when you lie on top of him in your bed. After a while of just nattering peacefully to each other about your days, winding down by playing with each other's fingers and sneaking kisses through the brackets of your arms, he feels so at peace to feel your weight familiarly resting on top of him. This need increases tenfold after he loses Ben, I think there's something so comforting to him, to know and feel that you're still so close to him, that he can synch the anxious patter of his heart against your own. He's so sweet bless him. he gets so sleepy that his head keeps falling down on top of your own, but he's so quick to lift it up again. He blinks languidly, that honey-sweet, silvery smile shadowed only by the tempered glow of the warm moonlight drifting through the balcony as he tries desperately to keep himself awake, giving his full attention to you.

There's just something about drifting off to the sound of your voice, knowing that for once, he's safe. That he's wrapped up, looked after, comforted by the love of his life. It just feels really nice to be the one coddled from time to time.

Sometimes, you'll jolt awake in the dead of night by the sound of some strange, wistful whispering echoing from somewhere in the near empty room. It takes your brain a little whirring time to realise it's coming from the hand that's spooning your waist, and the nose that's pressed tightly against the back of your thigh. Turns out Peter spends a lot of his sleepless nights tracing over your stretch marks, nestling down your back and reverently dancing his fingers up and down the tiger stipes on your waist. Every so often, he would rub his nose against their aureate lines in a fond kiss, gingerly resting his cheek against your bare skin again as he tried not to wake you up. What really made your heart melt, though, was the way an awe-struck 'wow' would slip from his lips in such a reverential tone, that Peter became so overwhelmed and could do nothing else but leave a small kiss against the side of your leg, dotted by slick tears.

This man picks you up on his scooter after your shift at work, mainly because 1) you are a much better driver than him, and it actually gets home in one piece rather than being tangled under a car wheel somewhere, and 2) when he's super stressed he finds it so comforting to wrap his arms around your side and press his forehead tightly into your back, letting the whole world melt away until nothing but whirling air and the scent of you is left. He always arrives outside your office building ten minutes early, making your secretary laugh when she spots him straightening his best flowery tie in the reflection of the waste bin by the bench outside. He has his best suit on, freshly pressed, and is nervously stepping from foot to foot with a crumpled bouquet of roses in his hand, like a teenager waiting to ask his crush to prom.

Every. Single. Day. You honestly just wait for the secretary to buzz you so you can grab your coat and run outside; you know far too well that Peter either dumps his Spidey suit through the window, or just wears his proper suit underneath so he isn't late. Doesn't matter if he has to catch five buses from the Daily Bugle, or has to 'borrow' his moped from 'Joe's Pizza' to get there on time, he's always there. And he always wants to look his best for you, even though he's still so surprised that someone as ethereal as you would even bother to look his way that he has to shuffle a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and dab at the sweat beading on his forehead.

It's either that, or Peter scaring the bejesus out of you by picking you up with his webs. You'll just be minding your own business, walking down the sidewalk on your way back from your lunch break, only to be hoisted, screaming into the air and past an equally petrified looking pigeon. Peter does feel bad the first time he did this, since you were screaming the whole time he swung you, but you've settled into a better routine now. You've found it easier to watch the scattered tiles of churches and the blurred crests of building whiz by while you're holding on tightly to his waist, and your feet are firmly pressed on top of his own so he can keep you steady against him. I mean, you might still bury your head into his shoulder blade in absolute terror, but he makes it up to you by landing you down gracefully on top of your office a couple of minutes before you go back in.

The adrenaline from swinging about New York makes the kisses far more heated, and it's always helpful to have a little privacy when you pull the edge of his latex mask harshly up past the bridge of his nose and nearly knock him flying over the cornerstones with how fervidly you smash your lips against him. His arms instinctively come to wrap around you, and even he's grown a little more emboldened by the knowledge that you actually do love him and this isn't some cruel villain trick or high school prank, to open his mouth and press his tongue lovingly against yours. He never wants to let you go, so before he lets you go back to your job he gives you a tight hug, and presses a million warm little kisses in a treasure trail down the pulse point in your neck.

This man literally has like... two outfits, so he's constantly wearing your clothes! Surprise! You come home to find him sitting criss-cross on the bed, face bruised and tired worn from his latest clash with Doc Ock, but your sweatshirt tucked over him and lifted up against his cheeks like a little hidden koala bear. Surprise! You plan a surprise birthday party for him with Aunt May, only for him to turn up after work wearing one of your jumpers! It's just so snug, and homey, and it reminds Peter of when he was ten years old; when you came round to sleepover, and the two of you would crash on his mat after spending so long pouring through and excitedly talking about the new quantum theories in the science magazines he used to buy with his pocket money, Peter would shuffle up beside you. With a sharp breath, he would tentatively turn on his side and pray he wouldn't wake you up, curling into the foetal position. With a smile like dawn breaking through the soft tufts of a cloud, he would press his nose into your shoulder and just breathe you in, hoping he would never forget it as long as he lived.

This man loves to take you out dancing, mainly so he can grin wildly and show you off to every other customer in the restaurant. Every time he passes the waiter, or the Maitre d', he points wildly at your back and mouths ecstatically 'that's my Y/n!'. He legitimately pools all the money he's made from the photography, and from the pizza delivery together so he can take you to a fancy restaurant uptown. He feels so nervous when he gets up with that breathless smile and offers you his hand, but all his troubles just immediately melt away once he feels your hand brush over the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He falls against you, easily caught just like he was all those years ago. Your fingers feel so soft, so perfect as they slot between his own, although his left hand never stops rubbing over the supple skin of your waist as he sways the two of you back and forth in time to the dream-like lullaby of the string quartet.

[plus-size-reader]

Spidey Sense

Fics of Fall 2022

Peter Parker x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2355 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Carving a Jack-o'-lantern with Peter for the first time, which doesn’t exactly go as planned.

—————————————————————————————————

Peter felt it before he heard you.

Pain. 

It was dull and faded as quickly as it came but it was there, a slight tingle under his skin, which could only really mean one thing.

It was you. 

His spidey sense only really got like this when you needed help. It felt different, more intense somehow.

So, before he’d even had a chance to realize what was going on or to put any thought at all into what it could have been, Peter shot up, turning to find that the space normally occupied by you in his bed was empty.

Which, coupled with the panic pricking at the corners of all of his senses, was more than enough to worry him.

Under any normal circumstances, it might not have been that big of a deal. There were plenty of innocent explanations for something like that, but the two of you didn’t exactly live under normal circumstances. 

You lived in a world where nothing was certain, and nothing was safe.

So, as soon as he heard that crashing and clamoring coming from the kitchen once again, he was off. It didn’t matter what was going on or where you were, he wasn’t going to rest until he figured it out.

He couldn’t help it.

Peter was already a bit touchy where you were concerned, but this morning, his mind was racing, cooking up several haunting scenarios that all ended in you being maimed and murdered.

His steps were careful and quiet as he rounded the corner from his bedroom until he found you in the kitchen, his focus set on the sound of your heartbeat as he tried to plan his next move. 

Your breath was even, all things considered, but your pulse was quicker than he would have liked. 

It wasn’t until he heard a muffled curse from you that he dropped his guard and emerged from his hiding place, finally blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Y/N?” he called, pretty confident now that you were alone. If someone else were here, he would have been able to hear them or sense them in some capacity by this point. 

Because sometimes superpowers were awesome.

Not that your being alone in any way explained what you were doing this early in the morning, or why you were bleeding. 

The answer to which wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting, on either count. 

You sighed at the sound of his voice, disappointed in yourself for waking him up. You had been trying to get this done before the sun came up, as a surprise, but obviously, it wasn’t going to work now.

Stupid pumpkin. 

“I’m here” 

Peter could hear how defeated you sounded from where he was, but it wasn’t until he switched on the overhead light that he understood why. 

You were sitting there, in the center of the kitchen floor, with a pumpkin resting between your thighs.

For some reason.

He didn’t even bother to keep the laughter that bubbled up in his throat at bay because it was so ridiculous. 

You had to be kidding.

“What are you doing?” he muttered, taking in the sight in front of him with a mild, albeit sleepy, gleam in his eyes.

He had just woken up, after all. 

“I wanted to carve this stupid pumpkin for you, but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” you explained, gesturing to the large orange pumpkin which was laying in a lake of its own guts and seeds. 

It always seemed so easy, but now that you were attempting the seasonal craft for yourself, you realized you couldn’t have been more wrong.

This was impossible. 

“And, what happened there?” Peter wondered, recalling the initial reason for his waking when he noticed a thin line of crimson red blood, actively dripping down from your palm onto your wrist. 

It instantly set those same alarms off in his head as the man you loved crossed the room to inspect the wound, more for himself than anything.

He had to make sure you were okay before even acknowledging the rest of it.

“I slipped and cut myself” you shrugged, letting him paw at you as he saw fit until he was content that you would be okay. 

The cut didn’t look too deep, or dangerous in any way, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

He was sure it hurt.

There was silence between you for a moment as Peter busied himself cleaning up the cut as best he could with the corner of his tee shirt, which would surely be ruined after this point.

Not that he even seemed to mind. 

“How did you manage to cut your hand carving a pumpkin?” he wondered, what felt like forever, that familiar embarrassment returning to you all at once. 

This was what you got for dating an Avenger.

“I slipped,” you repeated, turning the gourd in your lap until he could see the face you’d begun to carve into it.

So far, you had managed to get one triangular eye mapped out, along with a small square nose, which was initially supposed to be another triangular.

You’d had to improve after narrowly cutting the tip of your pointer finger off. 

“This whole thing’s a bit more technical than I thought”

Peter laughed at that, this time letting himself get caught up in just how much he loved you. Of all the things that could have woken him up today, this was probably one of the most endearing. 

…and random. 

“Don’t laugh. I just wanted to be festive” you pouted, finally setting the knife down in defeat. Whatever it was you created this morning, it certainly didn’t look like any jack-o-lantern you’d ever seen. 

Still, Peter didn’t make fun of you. 

The end result of your effort was hilarious, but the care you’d put into it was real and it was obvious this mattered to you, so he wanted to help.

“I’m not laughing at you” Spiderman assured, that same gentle grin permanently affixed to his face that completely contradicted his point. 

He couldn’t help it.

You were just so cute. 

“Forget it. We don’t need a pumpkin anyway” you sighed again, a real frustration taking over now. You had really put everything you had into this, and having it go south so quickly had really put a damper on your mood. 

Thankfully, Peter wasn’t quite as easily discouraged as you were when it came to these things, mostly because he didn’t get to be. 

He had to be Spiderman, and that had changed quite a bit about him in everyday life too.

This wasn’t life or death for him like some of the things in his life were, and he didn’t have to put pressure on himself for it to be perfect. 

“I’ll tell you what…why don’t we get some breakfast, and get that cleaned up?” he suggested, vaguely gesturing to your hand until you gave it over so he could press a kiss to your knuckles. 

Then, before you could argue further, he hummed, filling the silence just enough to let you know he wasn’t finished. 

He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just going to accept that.

“After that, we can figure this out together”

~

After breakfast had been eaten and Peter had actually gotten a chance to wake up, you two finally sat down with pumpkins in mind. 

You were going to do this. 

Even if it took all day. 

“So, have you ever done this?” you questioned, sitting down with your partially mutilated pumpkin and a clean kitchen knife, along with a purple patterned bandage, courtesy of the man you loved.

The last thing he wanted was for you to cut yourself again, especially not for a seasonal craft. 

Peter grinned, thinking about all the Halloweens he’d celebrated thus far, and all the happy memories he had. 

Memories that had never included carving a jack-o-lantern like this one, “Like this? No, but how hard can it be?” 

“I don’t know, but usually when you ask that something bad happens” you shrugged, doing some recalling of your own, back to all the times you were talking about.

Your boyfriend laughed, rolling his eyes as he thought it over. You had a point this time, but this time, it wasn’t that serious. All the damage that could have been done already had been. 

“I’m pretty sure we can handle this, babe” Peter assured, confident that no matter what, this wasn’t a monumental task and even if it was, you could figure it out together. 

How hard could it be? 

“So, what do you want to do first?” 

There was silence from him for a split second as your partner twirled the pen in his hand around a few times, considering what he wanted to do with what you’d given him. 

It was still a pretty blank canvas, and if anything, you’d given him more room to make something that was just a touch creepy. 

It was going to be so cool.

“I think you take this marker and draw a face on him, so we don’t just stab without any direction” he allowed, unscrewing the cap and handing it over to you so that you could outline a comical doodle on the face of the pumpkin. 

Peter had only watched Aunt May do this once or twice as a kid, but it seemed simple enough, especially considering all the things you two had done together thus far.

It should be simple, and it was. 

All you had to do was do it together. 

“What do you think? Like this?” you hummed, both you and Peter cocking your heads to the side just to survey your work from another angle. 

It was pretty good. 

Really good. 

“That’s perfect, just like you” came your boyfriend’s confident reply, a gentle peck falling on the side of your face. 

He loved you so damn much.

“Then, I think we just carve the inside of the shapes out” he continued, watching as you plucked the knife off the floor and set off on a mission to do just that, only for Peter to intercept you at the last second. 

“I think I’ll do this part if you don’t mind” 

It briefly crossed your mind to argue with this whole thing being a surprise and all, but after giving it another second thought, you realized what he must have been thinking and nodded.

There were only so many things one person could handle this early in the morning. 

Besides, if he cut himself doing this like this, it would heal far quicker than it would for you. 

You grinned, that same smile on your face that you hadn’t been able to push down since you came up with this idea in the first place. 

It was just so seasonal and fun. 

Peter was quiet as he focused, his attention mostly poised on the task at hand as he removed chunks and slivers of rind until finally, it was done. 

Once he’d decided it was exactly what he wanted, the man in question showed off his craftsmanship with a wide grin to match your own. 

It would be a lie to say that he didn’t get why people did this. 

It was fun. 

In fact, Peter was sure that this was, by far, the best idea you had ever had.

You hummed in approval, you should have known his steady hands would lend themselves well to a task like this. “Just like that, I believe we carved our very own pumpkin” 

“Now, all that’s left to do is find some candles and set it outside” Peter decided, immediately getting up to find where the two of you had left the candles last.

All of this was for nothing if you couldn’t put it out on display for the neighborhood.

So, that’s exactly what you did. 

Ignoring the cold chill of the biting fall air, you and Peter huddled around your pumpkin on the porch, watching as the candle he’d lit within it danced under the influence of the wind.

It was perfect.

The edges were a little crooked and one of the eyes was a little smaller than the other but considering how it came to be like that, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

“What do you think?” he hummed, reaching out to take your hand in his own as he admired the work you’d done together. 

It was pretty cute. 

You giggled, swinging your hands between you, “I think that I have the greatest boyfriend there’s ever been” 

“So, I’m curious, why didn’t you just get me up before you started opening it up?” Peter wondered, wrapping you up in his arms mindlessly from where he stood, and pulling you into his body.

It was so goofy. 

You knew that now, seeing how it went, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to make fun of you for this. 

In all the years that you’d known him, Peter had never made fun of you for anything. 

“I thought it would be a cute surprise” 

At your admission, Peter just shrugged again, recalling all the slamming and banging that had met him as soon as he opened his eyes “I don’t know. You weren’t exactly quiet” 

He had a point there. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to him now. 

“In my defense, I really didn’t think you’d wake up” you laughed, well aware of the exact reason you’d made the decision you had.

Peter had always been notoriously hard to wake up. 

For as long as you’d known him. 

Even given what you’d all taken to calling his spidey sense, he slept like a rock and it was hard to rouse him from that. Though, clearly, relying on that this morning had been a mistake. 

“Well, next time, why don’t we just sleep in and learn new things together” he grinned, wiping away a bit of pumpkin that had somehow ended up on your chin at some point during the whole exchange. 

“Sounds like a plan” 

[noir3ky]

he can’t think straight. His bones are like goo, his body a mind of its own.

miguel’s shaking away the mist from his mind, which continues to cloud his judgment.

his hair, which is slick with sweat, drips onto his forehead, and onto his naked and gleaming pecks. It’s more ragged than how it’s usually styled.

each harsh thrust of his hips continues to bounce the loose curls, in tandem with the clap and recoil of your plump ass.

“fuck, tesoro.” the sight alone made the man behind you groan loudly, causing him to grip at your hips harder.

leaning down towards your backside, Miguel shoved his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet, tangy scent.

he continued to batter his way inside your fleshy, gummy walls. Almost as if trying to get his thick cock to impliment its shape into your quivering hole.

“miguel…” whimpering, you gripped at the sheets under you, pushing your hips back to meet with his thrusts to get him to hit deeper inside.

biting down on your neck, Miguel groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. His eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from it.

he began to speed up his thrusting, planting his feet onto the bed and slamming his hips onto your ass harder.

pulling back to move his hair out of his face, Miguel looked down to see where you both were connected, letting out a slight whimper at the sight of your fat pussy lips gripping at his dick. not wanting to let go of him.

“mierda. I’m not letting you go until you’re full of my seed, ¿entiendes?” He doesn’t even let you answer, because he’s already going back to wrapping his lips around your neck and grabbing at plump body. His hands snake around your large tits and wide waist to keep you in place.

even if you’d repeatedly asked for a break, if your legs shook from your orgasms, if you blacked out; this man wouldn’t let you go. At least, not until you’d squirted a few times and had lost the ability to walk the next day.

(miguel would definitely have a plus sized lover. It’s just in our Mexican nature!)

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 1

I’ve seen everyone doing these drabbles/aus and I wanted to join! 🤠

content warning: It gets suggestive towards the end so MINORS BEWARE.

word count: 719 (kind of proofread, I got excited)

Daydreaming about GymRat!Miguel x PlusSize!Reader / Chubby!Reader and the dynamic of big tall bf x shorter chubby gf 🚻

Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who started off as an awkward, lanky, nerdy teen using the gym to blow off steam. His mom felt that he wasn’t a great influence to his brother, his father wasn’t his real father, and his step-brother was an asshole.

GymRat!Miguel who’s nearly triple his weight by the time he starts college, body full of muscle. His mom has calmed down despite him previously eating her out of a house and a home. His biological dad agreed to help with any leftover college expenses and his step-dad helps him move on campus. He’s tearful when he hugs Gabriel goodbye, promising to call and play their weekly games.

GymRat!Miguel who stays loyal to his nerdy roots and aims for a Science degree with a minor in Robotics for fun. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his classes, body taking up the ends of lab tables. Even though he prefers to sit in the front of classes, he opts to sit in the back so that everyone can see. He’s constantly using office hours and lingering after class so that he can make sure that his notes are correct.

GymRat!Miguel who first meets you in one of his bio labs and is immediately enamored by you. Your clothes hug your curves, you smell sweet, and something on you always matches. Your shoes and your backpack, your skirt and your jacket, your accessories and your nails.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up being in your group for a project and watches in awe as you take the lead, helping everyone decide which parts to complete. You go out of your way to make the powerpoint colorful and creative. You’re ecstatic when he turns in his parts extra early as everyone else has gone a-wall.

GymRat!Miguel who calms you down when the deadline is near and the rest of the group still hasn’t done their part. You two meet late in the library to finish everything. He thinks you’re adorable despite how stressed and tired you are. He makes the last minute decision to delete the other two group member’s names off of the title slide, taking the initiative to email the teacher before hand.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the lab building on presentation day 50 minutes early and sees you being cornered by the other group members eyes full of confusion. He quickly walks over asking if there was a problem. Seeing him looming over them, the two decide give up, and scramble together a last minute presentation.

GymRat!Miguel who explains everything, telling you not to worry about the others and just focus on you all’s presentation. You two have great presentation, chemistry blooming as you bounce off each other. You both get an easy A and you hug Miguel out of an excitement before the next lab starts.

GymRat!Miguel who imprints the feeling of your body against his in his memory. Your smell, how soft you were, how small you felt in his arms, how tight you squeezed him.

GymRat!Miguel whose dreams of you have him tossing and turning in his twin sized bed that was far too little for him. He scares his poor roommate to death when his body hits the floor with a big boom. The dream of you under him shattering as he collides with the ground. He groans and apologizes to his roommate, pain in his side and his groin.

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower, too aroused to go back to sleep. He bites his fist trying to quiet his moans, not wanting to wake his roommate for a second time. He replays images of you in his mind, pulling at his length until he shutters against the tile walls.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart drops when he checks his phone after his shower. You followed him on Instagram three hours ago. He checks your page and sees that you're private, but your profile picture is a lot. It's an angle from above you, your cleavage on display.

GymRat!Miguel who stands in the bathroom ogling at the photo like an idiot. He clicks the follow back button, watching as it shifts to pending, and stares down at his body again. He sighs and turns the shower back on, banking on his roommate sleeping through everything once again.

You had no idea the effect you had on him.

dividers by @y-onb 🩵

Leave a like and a comment! Let me know how you feel 😶‍🌫️

[artemisthewh0re]

New smut is going to have these elements!!!

Shuploc on Instagram

[kirbyskisses]

“rellenar” // miguel o’hara

something i wrote to help you all pass the time while i work on “te amo” chapter 3.

cw: fem!reader, size kink, pain kink. no spoilers or plot or anything just pure filth. minors and blank/ageless blogs do not interact!!

“you can take it, can’t you mamita?” miguel groans, grinning as he presses his lips against the shell of your ear.

you sniffle out pathetically because it’s clear that you can’t. you can’t take his fat cock bullying its way into you between a mess of spanish curses and you hiss when his claws skid against the plush of your thighs. thighs which are getting pushed farther and farther and farther back.

“m-míguel -“ you pant. his tongue strolls across his fangs - you‘re so pretty and delicious when you look like you’re about to cry.

“déjame entrar, princesa.” he snarls, sweat dripping throughout his brown hair. and you are trying - trying so hard to stop your tiny little cunt from squeezing down. you want him in but it wants him out - leaky and pulsing and convinced that something this big must be an intruder.

he groans when it clamps tighter and you let out a broken sob when his clawed hands grip harder, leaving red welts. it takes concentration to retract them and he should feel bad for hurting you - but he can’t concentrate when your broken noises makes him twitch inside you; miguel feels like he’s floating.

“miggy - h-hurts!”

“told you to let me the fuck in,” his hips snap forward wracking out another sob from you. he inhales sharply, fat mushroom-like head of his cock managing to slip deeper. a deep, sound of pleasure emits from his throat, pulling his claws away. they retract into his fingertips, your lips letting out a whimper of relief as they had come dangerously close to breaking the skin.

“gonna take the pain away,” he lies, immediately amplifying it with a heavy slap to the thigh. and another, and another, his large hot palm intent on making you shake. “you just have to open up for me, querida.”

miguel was always rough and your body always enjoyed it.

“puta madre…” he quietly marvels, thick veiny fingers reaching down to skid over your plump folds and clit. your juices easily coat his fingers, dripping out as your cunt cries transparent white tears of arousal from the controlled pain.

your face is equally teary and one of his hands moves to caress your ruddy cheeks.

“there she is.” he snarls out, finally slipping deeper and soaking in the leaking hot sense of relief that rushes around his cock. he lifts your waist as if you weigh nothing, making an easier angle to slide down into your wanting, crying little entrance. without warning his hips snap forward and suddenly his length is all inside you, heavy balls slapping against your slit.

“te llevaste todo, qué linda.” he coos. your gummy walls feel like they’re melting around him and your hands cup over your face to try and hide your expression; a look half of pain and half of bliss. miguel won’t stand for it, grasping both and forcing them above your head.

“mírame.” he threatens lowly, sharp teeth emphasizing his angered snarl. “these stay here or holding back those thighs. hide your face again and see if i don’t web you into place.”

you blink away tears at the stretch of him, legs thrown over his shoulders, body completely folded to take every inch from tip to base.

“¿entiendes?” his heated eyes bare down on you, as you whimper out a pitiful “sí…”

“what was that?” he quirks an eyebrow, one languid movement of his hips pulling to leave just the very tip of his cock in your folds.

“s-sí, míguel. yo entiendo.”

miguel nods, approving enough to reward you by plunging his full length back into your begging cunt. he growls deeply at the almost disgustingly wet squelch it gives. the grip of one of his hands tightens around your two wrists as he holds them. the other presses on your stomach gaining him a slurred cry.

“is that it, baby? is that your spot? right there?”

he takes the noise that wretches out of you as confirmation, grinding his palm into the heated skin of your tummy as his dick slaps in and out, only pulling away his hand when his wet tip starts kissing the spot from inside.

the mass of his muscles and the dangerous sounds of his voice as he fucks deeper than he should be able to - it all keeps you from struggling. your body is engulfed by the heat of the sheets on one side and the sweaty warmth of his body weight on the other - his arms caging you on either side.

“c’mon mama. dámelo. dame que quiero. sé que puedes hacerlo.”

and you do because suddenly you’re cumming, spilling so perfectly around him. your climactic noises swallowed by his tongue gliding its way over yours, his cock glistening wet with a thick ring of white around the base.

pulling his mouth away, he caresses your face - his expression made hungrier by your dazed eyes.

“told you… doesn’t hurt anymore does it? let’s see if you can take it again, rellena.”

[noobsquasher]

Love your writing omg, can you pls pls write one where y/n has never had an orgasm before and is really innocent so her best friend Peter (who’s kinda dominant) helps her by going down and fingering her??

Say Yes To Heaven ✮

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex, praising, degrading, fingering, oral sex (reading receiving), swearing, etc

Summary: Your best friend, Peter is shocked to hear that you've never had an orgasm before. So in return, he offers to give you your first.

Notes: Peter Parker x Female Reader

All characters in this story are 18+

I know. 6 months since I've uploaded something, but here's another toe-curling smut for you <3 thanks for all love I've been receiving even though I've been gone.

------

“Which one is this for?” You asked, holding the foreign Lego piece, not knowing where to place it. 

“Oh! That’s the last piece I was looking for. Put that on the top, right here.” He pointed to the arch of the plastic building, indicating where to put it. 

You leaned over, carefully moving forward to gently connect the Lego pieces. 

“There! Voila!” You cheered, impressed that you finished about a quarter of your Hogwarts Lego project with Peter. 

“Great! Now we have about… 1,500 more pieces to go!” 

You took a deep breath, already tired of how long you guys have been building this. You took a look outside, the sky was painted with deep rose and tangerine, slight hints of indigo parading the ends of the horizon. 

“Pete, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.” You stood up, making your way towards his kitchen. 

“Uh, sure. What do you wanna eat? I have…” he followed you before opening his fridge, checking to see what he had in store, “Well, I um… I don’t really have much. May hasn’t gone shopping yet.” 

“What about pizza?” You proposed. 

“I have pizza dough. You wanna make it ourselves?” 

“Make pizza with you? The last time you were in charge of cooking, the fire department showed up not even an hour later.” 

“Hey! That was one time like forever ago!” 

“That happened last week, Peter.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, huffing. You giggled. 

“Look, it’ll be fun! Us two, cooking, creating something homemade. Come on.” Those big brown eyes of his practically begged you with just the bat of an eyelash. 

You gazed at him, a smile creeping up your face. 

“Fine. But I’m in charge of oven duty, not you.”

Afterward, you two started your cooking adventure. Having Peter even be in the kitchen was already a fire hazard, so you took on most of the work, letting him do the easy parts. 

You watched intently as he rolled out the pizza dough, a pretty smile on his face as he enjoyed the activity. 

You couldn’t help but get lost in the minuscule act, something so small doing so much to your heart. You felt pure infatuation run through your veins, your eyes practically twinkling as you watched the person you loved most. 

You knew crushing on your best friend would have you end up in a ditch, a hole deep and wide enough to keep you from crawling out, a dark abyss that held all your pent-up feelings. Emotions that pricked you each time you saw Peter’s heart-wrenching smile. 

You didn’t know if he liked you back, you wondered if it was even a possibility, hoped there was a small part of him that felt the same way you did. 

You’ve known him forever, he’s been your sidekick since you could remember. Even when you found out that he was Spiderman, you still stuck with him through thick and thin, never leaving his side. 

You never thought your relationship would turn up the way it has, but now you are stuck. Adhered to this impending adoration you hold for Peter fucking Parker. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize when Peter tried to catch your attention.

“Hey? You alright, my love?” He looked concerned, slight fear on his face. 

“What?” 

“Why do you have that look on your face?” 

“Huh? What look?” 

He gazed at you, studying your features, eyes marked to your chest, 

“Nothing. Um, I’m done with the dough. I already put the sauce on it.” 

You took a deep breath, reaching over the kitchen island to grab the sliced cheese. 

“Here, put the mozzarella on it.” 

When the pizza was prepared, you took the pan and placed it inside the oven, setting it. 

“Okay, we just gotta wait a little while, and then it’s done.” You announced. 

“Alright. So… what do you wanna do?” Peter leaned against the counter, looking down at you. His stance sent strange chills down your spine, you gulped, trying to get your conscience together. 

“I- I dunno. What do you wanna do?” 

“Wanna watch a movie?” 

“If you say Star-“ 

“Star Wars. There are new episodes of the man-“ 

“No, Peter. I’m not watching that shit again.” 

“Why not?! You made me sit through five Twilight movies!” 

“Don’t act like you're not on team Edward!” 

“I’m team, Alice!” 

You gazed at him, a grin staining your lips before you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the two of you cackling together. 

“Okay, alright, we don’t need to watch Star Wars again. For your sake.” He put his hand on your arm, squeezing it. 

You gazed up at him, your cheeks suddenly heating up. 

“Uh… let’s just talk, until the pizza is done.” 

He nodded his head, walking back to the living room to grab a seat on the couch. 

You sat next to him, keeping a safe enough distance from him, for your sake, and your panties, of course. 

“So, tell me something about yourself.” 

You grinned, 

“You know everything about me, Pete. You’ve known me forever.” 

“Yeah, but people still hold secrets. Tell me one of yours.” 

You kept your eyes on him, crossing your arms. 

I’m in love with you. 

“You first, Parker.” 

“Hm… well, this secret is one of my worst. Truly horrific.” You tilted your head at him, “I’m… I’m a Leo man.” He confessed, putting his head into his hands as if he was terrified at what he just shared. 

You gasped in mock offense, 

“Leo?! Oh god, no!” You wailed, covering your eyes. 

He laughed, shaking his head, 

“I know… I know, It’s my biggest character flaw.” 

You giggled,

“My biggest character flaw is not being able to have an orgasm.” You admitted, sharing a personal confession with Peter. 

His brows knit together, his gaze shifting. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well… I’ve only had sex once, and the guy didn’t make me finish. And I’ve you know… experimented with myself before, but I’ve never really had that big O every woman talks about. I’m kinda… embarrassed. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, you know? Guys can get off so easily, but then when it comes to women who are inexperienced and who don’t know much about their bodies, it’s a whole other situation.” 

Peter listened intently, showing care in what you had to say. 

“So, you’ve never had a real orgasm?” He gently asked. 

“Not really.”

He kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body language. 

You felt the invisible tension between you two wrap around your neck, practically suffocating you with your vulnerability. You felt your heart race, wanting to change the subject. 

“Anyway, uh… I um, I think the pizza is ready.” You hastily stood up, making your way towards the kitchen. 

“It's not ready yet, but it smells good.” You say, inhaling the mouth-watering scent that’s filled the room. 

You felt Peter creep behind you, placing a careful hand on your waist. You didn’t jump at his touch, instead, you melted, leaning towards him. 

“You haven’t had an orgasm yet?” His tone held genuine concern as if he really cared about your situation. 

“It’s- it’s nothing, Peter. You shouldn’t-“ 

“Can I… can I show you how it feels?” 

You were nearly thrown back, almost dumbfounded at his words. 

“W-what?” 

“I’m a firm believer that every woman should be able to have a good orgasm every once in a while. You are such a hard worker, honey. You put in so much care and effort into your everyday life and into the people you love and… and I just can’t see how you haven’t blown up with all that stress you must have.” You were completely starstruck by Peter at the moment, you thought your feet had molded into the floor, “Let me… let me take care of you. Show you how good it feels to finally let go, and have that earth-shattering orgasm you’ve been waiting for.” 

You stood staring at him, unable to open your mouth. Had he just said what you thought he did? Propose an offer that would completely change your life. 

“Peter, you- you don’t need to do that for me. I know you care about me and all, but it’s not your responsibility.” 

“I know, but this feels like it is. I want you to have this experience, to step into a new path in your life.” 

You gazed into his honeyed orbs, contemplating the idea. 

This would be a whole new venture for you, a life-altering experience that you’ve been dying for. Denying the offer seemed like a foolish choice. 

“…It’s okay if you don’t-“ 

“I want to. I want to experience it.” 

He blinked, 

“Are you sure? Like one hundred percent positive?” 

“You're right, Peter. I need to experience this, I need to let go for once.” 

His eyes never left yours as a smile stained his lips. 

“So, we’re doing this? We’re really doing it?” He questioned, leaning closer to you. His chestnut orbs sparkled with underlying excitement, as did yours. 

“We’re really doing it.” 

-

As soon as Peter peeled off your sticky panties, your mind started to ramble. 

Has Peter done this before? If so, how come he hasn’t told me? Does he like me too? He wouldn’t do this just as a friendly gesture, would he? How does this affect our relationship from now on? Is he—

“Hey… hey, you're alright. I’m here, Angel.” The nickname slipped out his lips so smoothly, so perfectly, it nearly stopped your heart. 

He was so gentle with you, rubbing your thighs carefully, whispering soft affirmations to soothe you, treating you like something so fragile, a thin layer of glass. 

“Are you sure you wanna keep going?” You felt your heart thump throughout your body as you looked down at him, his face inches away from your velvety folds. 

“I mean- my pussy is already in your face so…” he chuckled, his warm laugh calming you. 

“Alright… if I’m hurting you or anything, please speak up. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.” 

“I will don’t worry.” 

He took one more look at you before his thumb trailed to your throbbing clit, drawing slight circles around it. The instant shock had your head thrown back, soft moans escaping your lips. 

“Shit… you're already soaked. Did I do this to you?” He continued his movements, playing with you like a guitar, pulling each string with pure delicacy, with one prominent goal in mind. You whimpered, breath heavy. 

“Tell me, Angel. Who did this to you?” 

Suddenly, his finger sunk inside you, almost too easy. You let out a roar, chest rising and falling as your gaze narrowed to the curly-haired boy between your legs. 

“You! You did, Peter! All you!” The pleasure was overwhelming, you felt your entire body heat up, your mind spinning. 

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours. You gasped, gripping onto his bed sheets as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

“Good girl… such a sweet girl. You like that?” He praises, fingers digging deeper. You can’t help but continue to moan, eyes closed as you take in how fucking amazing this feels. Suddenly, you feel Peter’s hand slap your throbbing clit. You yelp, looking back at him. 

“Eyes down here, baby. Look at me while I make you come.” His sugared demands came as a surprise to you. 

Never have you seen Peter in this light before. It makes you feel a type of way, an instant feeling of desire. All you wanted was him. All of him. Every single inch of his cock just buried inside you. 

“Peter! Oh- oh fucking god!” You felt something burn within you, complete ecstasy running through your veins as Peter’s thick fingers continued to destroy you. 

“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you want.” Your eyes practically burned into one another, Peter’s chestnut orbs were filled with lust. You wished he could always look at you like this. 

“I want- shit, I want to come. Please, please let me come. I’m begging you!” He smiles, diving into you as his hot tongue starts to draw circles around your little bundle of nerves. Harsh moans escape your lips, your legs starting to shake. 

It was as if his lips were a work of magic, moving them in such an inconceivable rhythm that you thought your mind was going to explode. With how he was devouring your soaked pussy and playing with that honeyed spot within you, it felt like you finally reached nirvana. 

Is this what heaven feels like? 

“Such a sweet pussy,” he groans, fingers hooked inside you, 

“God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night. Shit. Why didn’t you let me fuck you sooner?” He dives back into his succulent meal. 

You couldn’t answer him as crying out your moans was the only thing you could do. You started to wonder if this was really happening. Was Peter about to give you your first orgasm? 

You even realize that he’s been humping the mattress this whole time, fucking out his throbbing boner. 

“God! Peter! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come!” Your chest thumps rigorously, all your nerves start to light a fuse inside you. You start to feel lightheaded, bliss starting to kick in as Peter continues to play with your body like his own goddamn toy. “I’m- I’m gonna-“ 

Suddenly, he stops. You quickly look at him, all your limbs trembling as you whine. 

“Why- why did you-“ 

“All this time I’ve been waiting, just fucking dreaming about this baby. 

Now that I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go. I want- no, I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. I gotta make a mess inside you if you’ll let me. I’ll promise to make you cum on my cock for all eternity if you do.” 

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. You needed at least three to five business days to process what he just said. 

“Please, babygirl. I’m begging you.” 

You laid still, those glossy orbs of yours stuck to the man before you. 

“If you don’t want that it’s alright, I’ll just—“ his ramblings were cut short as your lips connected to his, kissing him with such passion that tiny whimpers escaped Peter. You gripped onto his curls, pulling him into you. 

“Shut up and fuck the living shit outta me.” 

-

To say that Peter’s cock was big was an understatement. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny, and absolutely angelic. 

“Holy shit.” You blurt, eyes locked onto his leaking tip. 

“What? Is it too big? Or too—“

“No- Peter. Your dick is so… wow.” 

“Really? Do you think so? I always thought it was—“ You shut him up again with your puffy lips, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him deep inside you. 

“I don’t want you to go easy on me. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, baby. I need you.” You plead before ripping off your top, your breasts falling in front of him. His chocolate orbs immediately stared at them. 

“Can I suck on them?” He asks softly, his hand grasping onto your pebbled nipple. You nod your head, biting your lip in anticipation. 

He lays you back down onto his sheets, his pink lips immediately attaching to your chest. You whine with pleasure, his hand reaching down to your abused clit to play with it again. 

His candied kisses mark your body with much love as if he’s branding you.

Never have you felt this euphoric.

You feel his cock brush over your cunt, as if he was asking permission to completely indulge inside you. 

“You have my word, Petey. Please let me feel you.” 

His pupils widen before he catches a kiss on your lips. As your tongues dance together, his large length slips inside you, stretching you out with blazing felicity. You both moan in desire, wanting more. 

His thrusts increase as he brings your knees up to his chest, completely fucking you insane like how you begged him to. 

The bed bangs against the wall as he pounds his cock within you, your cries filling the room. 

“Oh! Just like that! Fuck, Peter!” 

“You feel so fucking good. My god… such a tight pussy. Jesus Christ— I could cum already.” He groans, kissing you. You whine against his lips, arms wrapping around his back to pull him deeper. 

“You fucking slut. You love my cock, don’t you? Can’t get enough?” 

“Never! Oh, my fucking—“ you didn’t think he could sink any further, but when his cock hit your cervix, you completely lost your mind. 

You could feel him throb within you, your walls gripping onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. 

Harsh claps ran around his bedroom, you were definitely gonna feel the aches in the morning. 

Peter was right, why didn’t you let him fuck you sooner? His cock was addictive, this was a feeling you could never get over. 

You started to go numb as he pounded you senseless, utter babbles were all you could make out. 

“Already cock-drunk, baby? That dumb brain of yours can’t handle my pretty cock? Huh?” He teased. 

You honestly didn’t even know what he said. All you could feel was that huge cock inside you just absolutely tearing you up from the inside, and out. 

You felt that burning feeling again, soon realizing that you were gonna make a mess on him. 

“Gonna let me feel you? Come on, Angel. Let me feel you.” 

Suddenly, it happened. 

Your back brutally arched as all your muscles tightened, your intense orgasm raging throughout your body. You screamed Peter’s name like a damn prayer, trembling harshly as your cunt gripped Peter’s cock with all its glory. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever endured. Staining his thick length with your saccharine cum is what enlightenment must feel like. 

He grunts, “That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl, such a pretty slut for me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.”

“I’m- I’m all yours. I swear. I swear, Petey.”

He smiles before crying with triumph as he finishes inside you, painting your walls with his delicate seed. 

As the high died down, you couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. A smile pricked your lips as you started to laugh, euphoria clouding your head. Peter looked over as you were giggling like a maniac. He too busted out chuckling as it was contagious. 

“Why- why are you laughing?” 

“Because… because that was the best sex I’ve ever had! I feel so… so fucking happy.” You confessed, a huge grin attached to your lips. 

Peter blushes, softly laughing before catching a much-needed kiss on your lips. His kiss was filled with tenderness, sweet love fusing between you. 

Suddenly, a burning smell pricks your nose. 

“Peter,” you try to break the kiss but he doesn’t stop, wanting to caress you forever, “…Peter— what’s that smell?” 

“Huh? What… oh shit. The pizza!” He jumps out of bed, running butt-naked towards his kitchen. 

You sigh as you shake your head.

“Call the fucking fire department again!” 

———

Copyright © of noobsquasher 2024

[melancholymetropolis]

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots. 

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on. 

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal. 

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket. 

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame. 

I was simply stuck. 

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting. 

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.” 

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace. 

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob. 

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs. 

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out. 

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin. 

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply. 

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me. 

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him. 

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded. 

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet. 

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning. 

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then." 

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me. 

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid. 

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't. 

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance.  The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions. 

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met. 

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy. 

I cried when I saw them. 

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him. 

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality. 

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me. 

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths. 

His thoughts were loud in my mind. 

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine. 

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth. 

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him. 

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.” 

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me. 

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together. 

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month. 

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me. 

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever. 

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.” 

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me. 

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed. 

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia. 

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment. 

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance. 

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock. 

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips. 

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me. 

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck. 

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body. 

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch. 

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face. 

 Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that. 

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended. 

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck. 

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again. 

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan.  Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on. 

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.” 

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly. 

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously. 

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched. 

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine. 

I adore you. 

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

[eyesxxyou]

Not anon since I actually wanna see this in my notifications if you do this requestlmao:

HOBIE WITH A VIRGIN READER, But:

Plot twist, reader is vulgar, she wears semi-skimpy clothing, always making stupid (yet creative) sex jokes like ‘that’s what she said’ etc, Make-out champ and stuff but in reality she just does whatever and it works for Hobie when it was a wild guess. Like- sexually experienced she definitely isn’t yet always acts confident

Knocking out 2 requests in one

{★} .. hobie brown x black!plus size!reader

rating. m

word count. 2.3k

synopsis. hobie never expected you to be a virgin and he's totally okay with that but you are not.

or

you and hobie mutually masterbate

🍓・．warnings❕no p in v sex, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, fingering, praise, cum on pussy, pussy job, Hobie as a dick piercing, mentions of religion and blasphemy, aftercare

If you had told Hobie you of all people were a virgin before the two of you had started dating, he would have thought you were pulling his leg. You? You in your skimpy clothes that deliciously left nothing to the imagination? You and the well-developed curves you loved to show off? You and your teasing innuendos? No way in hell you were a virgin, but alas, here you were after making out with him for the past 10 minutes, stalling really because you— in a crop top so small he could see the beginnings of your full breasts and low-rise jeans that showed off your waist beads partially hidden under the pudge of your stomach— had no idea what the hell to do beyond that.

Not that Hobie believed in the concept of “virginity”. He simply believed that people either have had sex before or they haven’t and either way, one does not make the more pure or better than the other. But still, you never had sex? With the confidence you had in your body— confidence well deserved— he assumed that you had left a long line of broken hearts in your sexy stride.

“Well, is this sometin’ you wanna do? I don’ want you to feel like you gotta do anytin’ wit’ me.” Communication was important in moments like these. If he was going to be your first sexual experience, he wanted to make a good impression, didn’t want to leave you scarred and traumatized.

You signed a little, your confident demeanor melting away just a little while you spoke. “I just don’t think I’m ready to go all the way, ya know? I’m sorry if you wanted mor—”

“Don’t be sorry, luv. Never be sorry ova tha’. We don’t gotta do anytin’,” Hobie assured you with a slight caress to your thick thigh the size of his literal head. There was something almost commercial about the difference in your sizes and body types. No one would expect someone so tall and lanky to be with a person so short and chubby but anyone who dared to comment on it could expect get their head bashed in by Hobie’s guitar.

“NO, no, I want to do something, just not that yet. I’m still a little…unsure about it but you think we can try something else?” You asked, hopeful that he’d be down for something a little more unconventional, but you knew Hobie preferred unconventional to anything else. “Of course, wha’cha thinkin’?” He siddled up next to you, his lips caressing the round of your cheek while his hand grasped the fat of your ass. All of this, so much of your to love and worship. He wanted to leave a mark on every piece of flesh he could get his hands on, lavish over every part no revealed to the world, parts few and far between but all the more sacred because of it.

You gently scratched at the nape of his neck while his hands roamed tenderly across you body, careful not to make you uncomfortable and fully prepared to pull away at any sign that you weren’t feeling it anymore. “Let's masturbate in front of each other.”

“You’ve been tinkin’ ‘bout this fo a while, then?” It came too fast from your lips to be anything you thought of on the spot. You slapped him on the shoulder but did not deny his claim because you have. It would be a lie to say you haven’t been thinking of him sitting in one of his many bean bag chairs with his legs spread apart, his hand stroking the length of his cock while he watched you use your fingers to stretch out your unused pussy. You thought about what he’d look like when he came. What the consistency of his cum looked like, what it tasted like. Did he shudder when he came, did he whine a little, did he moan and groan, you needed to know.

“Please Hobie, I really wanna try it.” You pulled back to give him your infamous puppy eyes, hoping that might be what convinces him. If only you knew he’d do absolutely anything you asked him to because his worship of you bordered on the lines of blasphemy. “Of course, luv.”

WIth one last kiss, the two of you parted completely, Hobie getting up to go sit on a chair across from his bed where he left you. A bit anxious, you began to fumble with the button to your your spared jeans in a some rush to get them off like you were going to miss some deadline.

“Come’ere.” Hobie motioned you over with his fingers and without a second to hesitate, you obeyed, walking over to him with a wrinkle in your jeans at your embarrassing attempt to get them off. He reached up, his eyes locking in with yours while his long, slender fingers skillfully doing what your chubby, stout ones could not. His hands traced the curve of your hip as he placed a soft kiss against the pudge of your belly. “Take’em off slow fa me. Gimme a show, luv.” WIth that, he removed his hands from your body and leaned back in the chair to enjoy the performance he prompted you to put on.

Pretending to be sexy was something you absolutely could do. You stepped back a bit, trailing your hands up and down the length of your torso to caress the curves of your body. Hobie let out something of a sigh as you slipped your thumbs into the waist of your pants and the band of your thong to pull them down simultaneously.

You turned around to face away from him, working your pants down your hips and your legs in a seductive manner before taking them all the way to the floor and flashing just a peek of that little pussy of yours at him as you stepped out of your clothes and kicked them to the side. And by the time you turned back around, Hobie already had his cock out, half-hard in his hand as he stroked his twitching length.

It was pretty, long, veiny, chocolate brown in color with a slightly lighter tip leaking dribbles of precum over his knuckles. He had a piercing through the head of it, a Prince Albert. You wanted to kiss it, have it in your mouth, slave over it, suck it like it was your favorite flavor of lolli. Anything Hobie-flavored was your favorite.

You moved back, maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend as the back of your knees his the edge of the bed and you fell onto it, now making eye contact with the thick monster he had between his legs. The sight of it made your pussy quiver at the thought of it being closer, being inside of you one day, fucking the daylights out of you.

"Go ahead, spread those legs fa me, baby. I wanna see tha' pretty pussy of ya's." Hobie sighed out, his cock now to its full length. If he were to let it go, it would rest well to his belly button. He stoked a little harder, anticipating the sight of your cunt on display for him to enjoy and him alone. There was an odd sort of perverted satisfaction he got knowing that you’d never had a sexual experience with anyone else other than him. No one in the entire world got to see this beautiful sight as your propped your feet up on the bed and spread them to reveal your sacred little hole, glistening and wet with arousal leaking out of it.

You used one hand to place behind you so you could hold yourself up while the other was used to rub your fingers in the mess your pussy made of itself, spreading the slick to your clit where you put most of your focus. Hobie hummed from across the room, a soft, wet fapping sound emanating from him as he fucked his hand a little harder, using his precum as lube to slick his path while he pretended it was in fact your sticky juices coating his cock.

You bit your bottom lip, watching with hooded eyes the way he fucked his own hand like he wanted to fuck you, nice and evenly paced but ultimately desperate for release. In some feeble attempt to imitate what his length might feel like stirring up your guts, you slipped a finger into your inexperienced hole, that being the most you could ever manage to fit. But it left you severely disappointed as you knew one of your tiny fingers could never even imagine imitating the length and girth of that pretty cock of his.

You thumb at your clit to the pace that his hand rubbed his cock, his own thumb stroking his sensitive head each time it got the chance to. “Hobie~” You whined for him as your head fell back and your eyes closed, the pleasure of it all so overwhelming. But Hobie snapped at you between breathless groans. “Keep ya eyes on me, baby. I wanna see ya eyes.” So you opened them and looked at him, his hand fucking himself even harder now, his hips bucking uncontrollably from pleasure.

You could only imagine what the sight for him looked like, a finger in your pussy with your thumb on your clit, fingers wet down to the knuckle, lips wet from your tongue. Open and desperate for him as your back arched and your pussy trembled. “Please–” You begged of him. “I want your cum on my cunt. Please…Hobie.” You didn’t just want it, you needed it. You needed to feel the essence of him coating your pussy you wanted your fingers to play in in, to slip your messy fingers into your mouth and taste him.

“You wan’ me to cum on ya pussy, dirty girl?” Hobie began to sit up, ready to give you just what you asked for. You whimpered, nodding in desperation, watching him make his way over and push you back onto the bed. He pulled your hand away from your core and tapped the tip of his weeping cock against your clit, letting out a few wet smacks at the contact before he grabbed the thickest part of your thighs and forced them up to your chest. “‘m gonna give ya jus’ what’cha wan’.” His voice was dark, feral. His piercing glistened with precum as he stroked his cock between your swollen, wet pussy lips.

Everytime he pulled back, his tip positioned itself right at your entrance, always threatening to push itself inside and give you all you were looking for. But it never did. It just stroked yoru hole a bit before gliding over it, his cock rubbing your pussy and clit until you were crying out his name like it was the only thing you could remember to say.

Each stroke of his cock left you more sensitive than the last, each rub of your clit sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. An orgasm just on the horizon threatened to crash over you and destroy you much like a tsunami. It built itself in the pit of your stomach, your legs trembling and flexing in an attempt to close themselves and cast him out to avoid the unfamiliar feeling but Hobie forced them open without a care. “Open, keep’em open fa me.”

“Hobie, please, I can’t!”

“Yes you can, luv. I’m almost there.” He thrust against your pussy so hard his balls began to slap against your ass. “You wan’ my cum on ya pussy, righ’? You wan’ me to defile you, make ya all dirty fo me?” You nodded vigorously. You wanted that more than anything else in the world right now.

“Then take this dick.” Something about those words sent you over the edge. The tsunami crashed over you and seized your body like a demon. Your back arched off of the bed, muscles spasming and thrashing with an orgasm of an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Hobie!” You cried out his name, pussy spasming as you came. Hobie kept stroking, kept fucking, kept pleasing despite your calls, his breathy moans all you can hear as he nears his own orgasm.

And when it comes, so does he. His hips still and his cock twitches as he releases all over the face of your cunt. He coats your clit, your lips, your hole and paints them in milky white before spreading it about with his cock. “Goood girl.” He cooed at you in praise, slapping his cock in the mess he’s made of you. He claimed you as his, his for life. He owned this pretty pussy. It belonged to him. “Why does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Hobie, you.” You whimpered as he slapped his dick a little more against your pussy, sending jolts of overstimulating pleasure through your body until your toes curled.

“Tha’s righ’, don’ forget i’.” He bent over between your legs and kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth as his hand grabbed a fistful of your breasts. His cock was soft now, but it if kept stroking against your pussy, it would quickly be otherwise so he better stop while he’s ahead. “You did so good, luv. So good to me, so good fa me.” He bit your bottom lip as you hummed breathlessly into his mouth. “Lemme get you cleaned up.”

Hobie stood up and tucked himself away before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You heard the water running for a little, some shuffling in the bathroom before Hobie came back with the washcloth damp. He parted your legs a little more and used the cloth to watch you, apologizing with a soft kiss to your knee and you jolted and whined when he went over your clit. And once he’s done he tosses the cloth into the dirty clothes and climbs into bed with you to hold you, whispering soft praises into you ear so you don’t feel used or taken advantage of.

“I love you.” He whispered as you were just on the cusp of slumber and took no offense when you snored softly as a response.

[bitchyycapricorn]

Peter Parker Masterlist

🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️

Main Masterlist

••••••••••

Key:

*=NSFW

♡=Fluff

♤=Angst

♧= Series

☆=Request

MCU

ONE SHOTS

Is She Really Your Girlfriend?*♤♡

After getting a new boyfriend, Y/N starts failing her classes.Her parents set her up for some extra help. Until that extra help becomes too helpful.

Bitten*♤♡

Peter’s body changes significantly after being bitten

Warm Shower and Soft Kisses♡

Peter takes care of you after you after you disappear for a week.

Sticky*♡

Peter Parker loves to play with fun gadgets he finds around the Stark tower. Especially when it comes from an alien space ship. Which is exactly how you end up completely pressed to the ceiling of Peters room without knowing when you’ll come down.

Jealousy*♤

Blurb over a jealous Flash secretly watching reader ride Frat!Peter

Draw Me Like One of Your Italian Girls*

During a school trip to Venice Italy, Peter finds himself in his classmates room.

SERIES

Almost There—> Series Masterlist

Peter enters his apartment that night expecting to find an empty bed. But instead, he comes face to face with your transparent glowing figure.

ANNOUNCEMENTS

Peter Parker x Reader Help

TASM

ONESHOTS

Brooklyn Bridge*

Peter faces one problem constantly: Aunt May knocking on the door at the absolute worst times. Fed up, Peter decides to simply show you off to the public.

Warm Shower and Soft Kisses♡

Peter takes care of you after you after you disappear for a week.

SERIES

Coming soon…

ANNOUNCEMENTS

Coming soon…

[wiinterz]

video phone | miguel

pairing: miguel x black plus size fem!reader

genre: established relationship, smut, drabble

warning: cursing, light choking, fingering, overstimulation, praise kink, back shots, pet names (baby, good girl, princessea), ass smacking, spanish sentences & phrases, mirror sex, video sex, degradation kink

word count: 499

summary: miguel made your fantasy of having sex on video come true

☏ ᴛᴀʏ’s ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs: old drabble!

recs | taglist | help hub | marvel m.list

LEWD NOISES CAME OUT from miguel's room. it didn't help when his room window was open, allowing all of new york to hear. your panties ripped and pushed to the side as his cock stretched you out. so deep in you, a whimper escapes his lips as your pussy clenches around him.

he's got you at the edge of his bed, his right foot keeping him steady on it as his left stayed put on the ground. your knees have been bruised by the carpet kitchen from sucking on his dick; help keep you up as your hands. in all fours, as miguel thrusts into your moans get louder.

"fuck mig- oh, don't stop baby." you slur out as his left hand raises, smacking your ass hard.

"got you fucked up by my dick...yeah, that's right baby, take it like the spoiled brat you are." his words make you clench around him as moans spill out from both of your lips. he isn't holding back, and neither of you wants to. "so drunk on my cock bebé, forgot we're on camera, huh?" he smirks, as his left hand snakes up to your chin, forcing your mouth open and moves your head to the left.

your eyes land straight on your body, moving back and forth with his balls slapping against your cunt. you wanted so badly to close your thighs but knew miguel would force them open as easy as cracking a book open.

"una maldita puta." he spats out while your eyes roll back, his right hand going over yours, making you place it against your clit.

"go on, baby, fuck yourself. be my good girl and fuck yourself. miguel's fangs come out as he orders you, his left hand now on your throat, keeping you slightly steady.

you listen, circling your clit as the two of you stare at each other in the mirror. the camera was on a white desk resting against the mirror, recording every movement, every moan, whimper, and sentence.

you were so overstimulated; miguel used his tongue, fingers, fangs, and thighs on you before you got the chance to cum all over his cock. he knew you were close, which made him slip out of you before you could protest, miguel slammed his cock back in you as his hand gripped on your ass cheek, leaving bruises that wouldn't go away in three weeks.

"focus on me, princessea. be my good girl and do that, okay?" his voice rasped, he was getting close, too, and you knew it.

miguel's hand pulled your body up, chest against your back, while he kept the rhythm going. you were moaning out anything at that point, begging to be full of his cum as he kept going.

"mm, my fucking good girl."

and that sentence alone had you cumming all over his dick as he pulled out, ejaculating all over your asscheeks, watching his cum slowly drip down to your hole and then onto the bedsheets.

[s1ckh1mb0]

“Please baby can’t take no moree”

Of course Miguel didn’t care how much whined and pleaded he wasn’t done with your punishment at all. You decided to pull a little stunt by being to touchy with Hobie while at a meeting with the rest of the spidermen.

He gripped your thigh pushing your leg up by your ear and thrusting impossibly deeper. Groans and moans filled the room as he quickened his pace. Between Miguel and the vibrator he held onto your clit/tip you felt you could barely breath. It had been almost two whole hours and he still hadn’t let you cum yet. All over a little joke.

“Wanted to keep fucking around right, I told you the consequences but no you like to be a damn brat and couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. That’s alright you just need daddy to teach you how to be a good little slut and show you your fucking place.”

He bent down and leaned close to your ear

“And that’s right under me~”

[daisies-daydreams]

miguel ohara x chubby!fem reader.. ( i feel so bad for requesting the same reader UGH😭.)

can you make it fluff into smut ?? :D

them just making cookies together in the kitchen, them being lovey dovey hehe. :D and you can do your own thing with the rest.

Sweetness (Miguel O’Hara x Chubby!F!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Plus-Sized!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Warnings: Tickling (non-sexual), Swearing, Grinding, Spanking, Praise Kink, Kitchen/Countertop Sex, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms (Reader), Unprotected P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie Word Count: 2.4k+ A/N: Omg hi!! Don’t feel bad for requesting the same reader - I love writing for chubby/plus sized reader! ☺️ I hope you enjoy!

The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air as you pulled out a fresh batch. You hummed to yourself as you slipped a new baking sheet into the oven, gently swaying your hips side to side with the tune you sang. You gasped when your husband suddenly dabbed a wad of raw cookie dough onto your cheek as soon as you stood up.

“Miguel!” you laughed as he quickly hid the wooden spoon behind his back, his brown eyes flickering with mischief as he raised his thick brows.

"I’m so sorry, hermosa! I didn’t see you there,” he said as a wry grin sneaked over his rugged face [beautiful].

“Mhm,” you hummed as you tried to wipe the dough off your cheek.

"Here, let me get that for you," Miguel winked before turning around to grab a paper towel. You smirked as you watched him reach over the counter, his bottom sticking out.

The perfect opportunity to strike.

Miguel froze the second your open palm loudly slapped against his ass. Your smile quickly fell when he whipped his head around, the corners of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin.

“Migs,” you warned while taking a step back. He slowly approached you like a jaguar ready to pounce on its prey. You squealed and broke into a sprint as Miguel chuckled and ran towards you. Your heart raced as he chased you around the kitchen, your combined footsteps thudding against the hardwood as you ran.

You yelped when Miguel came up behind you and pulled your back flush against his front. You giggled when he suddenly brushed his fingers against your sides.

“M-Miguel! ¡Por fa!” you howled with laughter as he chuckled against your neck [Miguel please!].

"'Please' what, mi amor?" he murmured as he brought his hands up to your armpits [my love]. You wheezed and wiggled in his grasp as he relentlessly tickled you.

"P-Please stop! My sides are c-cramping!" you laughed as your eyes began to water. His hands quickly slipped away from your pits and traveled back down to your waist. Your eyes widened a little when he pulled your plump ass against his crotch, the feeling of his semi-hard cock making heat rise to your cheeks.

“Miggy…” you said before biting your lip. Your heart skipped a beat as he dipped his head down and pressed his lips over your pulse. You moaned softly as he began to gently rock his hips forward while he painted your neck with quick, sloppy kisses.

“W-What happened to ‘Bebé, let’s make cookies today’?” you gulped as a wave of heat swept through you. His low chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he squeezed your love handles.

“I can’t help that you look sexy in an apron,” he purred while plucking at the band of your sweats. Your face felt even hotter as he pressed his lips to your cheek and ran his warm tongue along the dollop of raw cookie dough he left earlier. You whined as he flicked and swirled his tongue around your soft skin, his cock growing harder against your cheeks with every slow thrust of his hips.

"Miguel..." you whined before glancing behind your shoulder. Your husband's eyes lit up with lust as he parted his lips. Your breath hitched as Miguel's lips danced over the delicate shell of your ear.

"Such a sensitive little thing," he chuckled deeply before hooking his fingers around the band of your pants. You unconsciously arched your back as he slowly rolled your sweats and panties down your thick rear. Your supple skin jiggled as your clothes crested over your cheeks, your soft walls fluttering and aching for his intoxicating touch.

Miguel groaned softly as he cupped his palms over your ass. You yelped when he lightly spanked you, your core clenching as the brief sting crossed your backside.

"That's payback for earlier," he smirked against your ear. Your heart pounded in your ears as he wrapped a hand around your front and slowly slipped it between your thick thighs. Your throat grew tight as Miguel slid his girthy fingers over your slick folds before rubbing over the tight seam of your entrance. You moaned and fell on your forearms, balancing yourself against the counter as he teased your aching hole with his deft digits. You mewled and threw your head back as bolts of pleasure shot through your heat with every slow, tender stroke of his fingers.

"P-Papi," you moaned as he gently nudged his fingertips inside your tight cunt [Daddy]. You whined and trembled as he began to shallowly pump them in and out with a symphony of lewd, wet squelches. You screwed your eyes shut as he rubbed his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves; his other hand quickly working it's way beneath your shirt. You shivered as he massaged your wet opening while eagerly pinching one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers.

"Can't believe how wet you are for me already, Mami," Miguel husked into your ear as he drew slow, sloppy circles around your clit, smearing your warm arousal across your puffy bud [Mommy]. Your face burned with heat as you ducked your head into your arms, squealing as your beloved suddenly sank his digits a little deeper inside your tight pussy.

"There's no need to be shy, hermosa," your husband chuckled as he took a handful of your breast and gave it a tender squeeze. Your jaw went slack as he inched his fingers even deeper inside your slick, gummy canal, his fingertips gliding over your soft g-spot as he flicked your clit with his thumb.

"Fuck, Miguel," you whined as his digits dragged along your gummy walls.

"God, you're so warm and tight...can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock," Miguel groaned as he slightly curled his fingers against your upper wall. Your eyes rolled back as your cunt clenched around every dip and curve of his soaked digits. You mindlessly rocked your hips forward as he spread your tight hole wide open, his other hand gently massaging your breast as he breathed against your neck.

"Fuck, I want to fill you with my cum so bad," he growled against your pulse as he thrusted his fingers at a faster pace. You tilted your head up and moaned as your body was electrified with unrestrained pleasure. "Stuff you so full that it makes a mess all over the fucking floor," Miguel's voice strained as he began to grind against your ass. You keened as you felt his solid cock glide against your soft cheeks, your body trembling with bliss as you dipped your head back down.

"M-Miguel," you mewled, your mind already swimming in a thick haze as the muscles in your lower tummy began to clench. Your husband knew exactly what your tone meant as he began to rub your clit even faster, his fingers fucking your pussy raw as he kissed and sucked on the curve of your shoulder.

You gasped loudly as he dug his fingers into the soft mound of your breast while he desperately ground his dick against your bum. Miguel's breathing grew more ragged as your walls eagerly sucked his fingers inside.

"Come on Mama - let me hear you," your husband rumbled as he shoved his fingers down to his thick knuckles. Your moan crashed over the room as you violently snapped your hips forward. Your knees nearly buckled as your cunt gripped onto his fingers, clenching them hungrily as a thick layer of cream seeped out of your stretched out hole.

"Fuck," you sobbed as your body glowed with euphoria. You wailed as your walls pulsed incessantly, your core bursting with pleasure as your mind became numb.

"Yes, yes," you panted as you relished in the feeling of relief washing over you. Your eyes shot open when Miguel suddenly slipped his fingers out of you without warning. You gasped as he made quick work of your apron and bra, your clothes quickly falling into a crumpled pile on the floor with a soft thud. You parted your lips as you remained completely bare in front of your husband: your dripping cunt on full display as he spread your thick cheeks apart.

"I'm sorry, cariño. I just can't wait anymore," he swallowed thickly before tugging the front of his pants and boxers down [honey]. A spark of heat flickered through your core when you felt his thick, heavy cock slap against your ass, a thick pearl of precum dripping down his tip and slipping down your crack. You wiggled your hips as he bent down, his muscular thighs pressed against yours as he rubbed his bulbous tip against your puckering entrance.

Your heart skipped a beat as Miguel laid one of his palms on your hip while he slowly pushed his length inside your heat.

"M-Mierda," your love grunted as he sank inch after inch of his long, hard shaft within your plush walls [Shit]. You moaned as the intoxicating feeling of fullness grew with every inch he fed into your weeping hole. Both of you gasped when he bottomed out, his thick balls kissing your lower lips as his cock throbbed deep inside your warm sleeve.

"Such a perfect, tight little pussy," Miguel praised before kissing the top of your head. You shuddered when he slightly pulled his hips back before slowly pushing them forward. Your mouth watered as your husband dragged his length along your plush walls, your pussy squelching each time he made the slightest movement.

"B-Baby, fuck," you groaned as Miguel dipped his nails into your love handles, his one hand smearing your now cool arousal across your hip. You squealed as he gently thrust into your tight heat, his breath fanning against your exposed shoulder as his chest rubbed against your back.

"Feel so good wrapped around me, hermosa," Miguel breathed. Your jaw went slack as he started to pick up the pace, your cheeks clapping wetly with every eager thrust.

"God, Miguel!" you cried out as his heavy balls slapped against your needy clit. Your chest grew tight when your beloved suddenly leaned on top of you, his arms draped over yours as he threaded his fingers between your own. You were practically standing on your tip-toes as he pounded into your pussy, your combined moans echoing throughout the kitchen as he stuffed you over and over.

"Mmm baby, that's it. That's my good girl," he purred into your ear as his hips slapped against your backside. Your legs grew weak at the feeling of your cunt making a complete mess of his cock, your juices soaking his length and dripping down the front of his thighs. You cried out as your hard nipples rubbed against the cool edge of the countertop, your walls already starting to tighten around his veiny shaft.

"M-Miguel," you slurred, your brain turned to mush as you felt him deep within your lower belly. "So close," you managed to squeal as the head of his cock perfectly rubbed against your spongey g-spot. Stars flooded your vision as his thrusts grew even faster, his dick stretching your pussy to the limit as he panted over you.

"Go on, Mami: soak this cock with your sweet cum," your husband rumbled as his tip slammed against your cervix. Your eyes shot open as he gave another vigorous thrust, the final stroke to send you careening over the edge of your release.

"Miguel!" you screamed as you tensed beneath him, your insides growing tight as another wave of pure bliss crashed over you. You sobbed and wriggled as your sex sucked him against the soft plug to your womb, his thrusts starting to falter as your pussy contracted around his heavy shaft.

"Fuck," Miguel let out a strained moan, his fingers clenching over yours as your cunt deliciously pulsed around his dick. You moaned as he continued to plunge his cock between your walls as your orgasm began to fade. Your limbs felt like jelly as you tried to balance yourself, your head still spinning as Miguel's breath faltered.

"God, (Y/N)," he growled as his cock swelled and throbbed inside you. Your pussy fluttered when he shoved his dick down to the hilt with one final thrust. Your legs trembled as you felt him stiffen against you, his muscles tense against your soft back as he released a gutteral groan. Both of you moaned as he painted your stretched walls with thick, heavy ropes of his potent cum.

"Sí..." Miguel grunted as he released one final rope of his seed [Yes]. You shivered as you felt his warm spend leak out of your hole and down the inside of your thighs. Your legs shook as a few drops of his cum splattered onto the floor, staining the hardwood with milky white drops. The two of you remained still for a few moments, your bodies trembling against each other as you caught your breath.

Miguel suddenly perked his head up and sniffed the air. You opened your eyes and tilted your head as he squeezed your hands.

"Cariño...did you remember to set the timer?" Miguel murmured. Your heart dropped into your stomach as your eyes grew wide.

"Shitshitshitshitshit," you spat out quickly as your husband scrambled off of you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness inside you as his cock slipped out with a slick "pop". You clumsily waddled over to the drawer next to the oven as the smell lingered in the air. You muttered to yourself as you slipped on some thick oven mitts, your heart racing as you threw the door open.

You wrinkled your nose and covered your mouth as a plume of smoke escaped from the confined space. Miguel was quick to throw one of the kitchen windows open while you yanked the sheet out. You coughed and spluttered as you slammed the pan onto the stove, your eyes and nostrils burning as the smoke began to dissipate.

Both of you exchanged weary glances as you eyed the fire alarm...only to sigh with relief when it didn't go off. The room was soon filled with your combined laughter as you eyed what looked like pieces of charcoal glued to the pan.

"Maybe you should let me put them in next time," Miguel mused as he stepped towards you. Your cheeks grew warm as he wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders and pulled you close. You gave him a timid smile as he gently pecked your forehead.

"That'd probably be for the best," you giggled.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 2

content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!

word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.

GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.

GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.

“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”

Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”

“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.

GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.

GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.

GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.

GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.

“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”

Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.

“Wow…”

No, that’s corny.

“Loving the blue…”

Is he a frat guy?

“You look stunning”

Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.

GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.

He’s hard. Again.

He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.

He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.

He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.

“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”

He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.

GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.

He can never be over-prepared.

GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.

GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.

“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”

Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:

“Don’t ever question my game again”

"? Wtf are you talking about"

Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.

GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.

It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.

You looked soft, adorable, kissable.

He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.

dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵

a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭

Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵

Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)

taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺

[artemisthewh0re]

What about Miguel taking you to his family get together but he didn't originally want to attend but you forced him to anyway and he has an attitude, now he doesn't like pda but he can't help sneak a couple caresses and spanks ,his family finally calls it a night ,yall stay over cuz u across the country, yall head to his old room to SLEEP😏😏 iykyk (they sleep really hard)hehe

I just imagined this and *chef's kiss 🤌🏾* I'm totally going to write a little blurb for this!!

Miguel hates agreeing with people and talking and pretty much anything and everything except you. But when you heard about a family get-together you saw this as the perfect time to introduce yourself since you'd been seeing Miguel for over a year. Of course Miguel throws a tantrum when you tell him your plan.

"I don't even want to go! I hate having to tell them what I've been up to and if I'm seeing anyone," Miguel says rolling his eyes.

"Well you are seeing someone and that someone wants to meet your family," you plead, using your best puppy dog eyes to persuade him. It works and he finally takes you to meet them.

You wear a long yellow sundress that perfectly compliments your skin. Your black locs flow down your back, making you look like some sort of bohemian princess. Miguel couldn't take his eyes off you, sneaking little kisses whenever his abuela was distracted. You actually got along with his abuela very well and she even made hints that he better put a ring on it, to which you laughed.

Despite Miguel not liking gatherings he enjoyed this one a lot, mostly because he was staring at the way your dress hugged your hips and dipped low on your chest. When the people started to leave Miguel ushers you up the stairs with a little spank to his childhood bedroom.

His room is decorated with action figures, trophies, and science projects.

"You little nerd," you tease as Miguel pushes you on the bed.

"Cállate," Miguel whispers as he presses kiss up your knees to your thighs. His soft lips send tingles coursing through your body. Your hands brush through Miguel's short curls as he moves closer to your core. He hikes your dress up to your chest and removes your underwear. "You got to be quiet Cariño, don't want to wake abuela," he smirks.

The night is spent doing less than holy things on a squeaky bed before you head home the next day, too ashamed to look Miguel's grandmother in the eyes.

***I'll probably do an extended version of this later