This is an extension of my self shipping blog @rose-wine-selfships, but completely dedicated to NSFW self shipping posts and NSFW self shipping art. Minors under 18 DNI! I will block you for everyone’s sake!!! However, everyone 18+ is welcome here! Header was done by @bakuhatsu-sensei!
My name is Christina, but you can also call me Rose based on my self shipping blog, @rose-wine-selfships! I’m a bisexual, Leo, ENFJ, 27 yo demi-female and I go by the pronouns she/her and they/them. I am also a white passing POC and neurodivergent since I have both Atypical Autism and ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I’ve been an active self shipper since 2018 of April, and I’m so happy to announce that I’m only extending my blogs even further through here. This is an extension of my self shipping blog purely dedicated to the more sensual and sexual sides of self shipping I’ve been wanting to express for a while.
This blog will mainly feature NSFW self shipping posts, self shipping art, and other ask games and posts related to it. So I will say it again, I am an adult, and I am a sexual being. If you are uncomfortable with that, feel free to block or unfollow me. If you are a minor following or interacting with this blog, I will NOT hesitate to block you. I am adamant about people of age to be the only ones following this blog. This is my only rule I will refuse to break or bend for anyone. However, if you are 18 or over, feel free to interact with my posts or even send me NSFW asks based on the ask games I reblog! Also, my NSFW content and material will be tagged #rose’s fantasies, #roses sensual playground✨, citruslove🍋, or #winethoughts🌹.
Most of all, have fun on my blog and thirst with me! 🌹🍷✨💕
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), camp wife!fem!reader ( it makes sense i promise ), dub con but it does venture into mild noncon for like a second, somnophilia, noise control, cockwarmimg, loss of virginity, creampie ( and multiple more suggested ), manipulation and gaslighting, Griffith is a warning on his own, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ HE’S HERE. first fic of my man!! please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread and i had to battle MANY distractions so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
Griffith was still awake.
he lays there, on his back, with his hands behind his head, and listened to the sound of your even breathing. it was much gentler than the raging blizzard just outside the tent, but there was a subtle clicking of your teeth chattering. you were snuggled close to his chest, fulfilling one of the only duties you were expected to.
you were hopeless with a sword, but you insisted on coming along with the mercenary band regardless— after all, why would you leave your young brother to travel with a group of killers without you there to watch out for him? Griffith had given you a bow and arrow, but you couldn’t seem to hit a target unless it was standing still, so you were less than useful on the battlefield. the others had even asked him to force you to leave, send you home, but he’d refused. and, instead, he’d told you what you were expected to do for the Hawks from now on.
‘Be the men’s mother. their wife. their nurse.’ he’d said to you, with icy eyes so piercing that you shied away from them, ‘If they’re hungry, feed them. If they are sick or wounded, tend to them. If they are cold, warm their beds. Relinquish the idea of trying to be my soldier, and instead, accept the role of my camp wife.’
though you were expected to feed and tend to the wounds of everyone in camp, you had come to realize that his bed had become the only one you were allowed to warm. you didn’t mind all that much, after all, why would you care where you slept? as long as you weren’t outcast into the elements, you wouldn’t say a peep about being expected to snuggle close to Griffith, and rest your head on his chest, be lulled to sleep by the steady and rhythmic beating of his heart.
tonight, however, was much colder than most that came before it. you were shivering, even as you nested into his side, your face buried in his armpit, and both legs entangled with his. when he juts his chin into his chest to stare down at you, he can see your breath in little, white puffs, and his own, much fainter.
he was cold, too.
one hand slips from behind his head and drops below the blanket, fingertips ghosting over the shape of your chest as it rises and falls against the thin fabric of your loose top. he considers stopping there, grabbing a fistful of your breast, but he doesn’t. it’s not quite warm enough for him. so, he careens downward, to clamp a hand over your sex, and his breath hitches in his throat when he felt you for the first time. your core was warm, and bare, and he couldn’t stop his icy fingertips from slotting between your folds, running slow laps. you squirm, your eyebrows knitting only slightly. the sensation was enough to rouse your sex to weep on his fingers, but not enough to wake you, he noticed.
his fingers were skillful in their fondling; they were slick in no time. two, the middle and ring, worm their way inside. your lips part, eliciting a confused whimper.
“You’ve never had a man’s fingers inside you before now...” it wasn’t a question, but an utterance of realization, just underneath his breath. you were much too tight, and your walls spasmed in violent opposition to his sudden intrusion. he couldn’t help it, his cock twitched to life at such a resistance, digits curling, he anchors them to your shallow nerve-cluster, pumping slow, to feel every inch of your slick canal. “I should’ve expected you to be a virgin.” he mutters to himself, watching how your muscles jump beneath your skin, wanting you to wake up and squirm away from his exploration. “You’ve always been shy to so much as undress in front of me.” maybe there was a part of him that always knew. when he would peel out of his clothes, your eyes would widen before they averted all together, only feeling comfortable enough to look back at him when his nakedness was covered with the blanket.
and maybe he felt powerful for that very reason right now, as he took from you what no one before him had.
the very tips of his fingers caress the spongy, interior wall of your sensitive slick as he prods deeper, and you hiss through your teeth, shifting in your sleep. “That must be tender, a new sensation to be touched like this.” he whispers, watching you roll over and face away from him. his face is expressionless, icy eyes deeper than oceans, but his free hand grasps your wrist. his grip keeps you from scooting too far to the edge of the blankets, and you whine, incoherent and dazed, half of your face smushed into the pillow. “Not only my hands need warming.” he grumbles, as if you should already know, or as if you were listening. his cock throbbed and demands to be inside you, feeling your walls flutter as they struggle to take his size, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek, pumping his fingers into you faster. harder. he needed to make you cum, he knows this, at least once. so that you’re wet enough to take him. bringing your hand to his mouth, he breathes hot air against your icy fingers, before spitting in your palm and shoving it under the blanket, molding your soft fist around his forming erection.
“You’re just about ready,” he breathes heavier in your ear, spreading his fingers open to tease your elasticity. another, pathetically slurred mewl, and he clamps your hand around him tighter, pumping along the length of him, stopping short of the sensitive head. “And so am I…”
“G-Griff—“ you were starting to come around, flustered by the skillful handling of your innocent core, “w—what are you—?!” as your eyelids crack open, you squirm in his embrace, but his toned forearm hooks against your midriff, pinning your lower half closer to him. it took you several seconds to pull yourself from your subconscious, and realize that the pressure between your thighs were his lithe, svelte fingers, thrusting in and out of you. and when you do, you cry out and grasp at his wrist with your free hand. “W—wait!” whether it was a plea for him, or yourself, you don’t know. you want to stop your body from giving in, but you’ve no time before you’re swept in a sea of pleasure— the climax he’d dragged you to whilst you slept finally rearing its head.
it was your very first orgasm, and you were too flustered to stop it. the strangled squeal that leaves your mouth just as the bubbling in your lower belly boils over is loud and shocked. your toes curl to the point of cramping, and you claw desperately at his wrist, “T-that’s—!!”
“Don’t fight me,” he mutters in your ear, definitive. oozing authority. “I’m cold. Let me use your warmth.” you try to pull your other hand from his, but your fingers squeeze his girth and your eyes widen, beginning to realize his intentions. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
“I—“ you couldn’t think. you’d only been ripped from your sleep moments ago, to the very new and very raw sensation of his fingers deep in your core. “Griffith, I’m not—“
but his other hand is quick to abandon yours at his cock and clasp over your mouth instead. plush lips smear themselves over the shell of your ear. “But you are,” he insists in a breathy murmur. even as you whimper against the smell of his skin, you kiss his palm and taste saline, and he pulls you back, tighter against his body. “Everyone and everything in this camp is mine. I’ve told you this before, no? The clothes that cover and protect you, they do so because I have fought for the coin to afford them. The catch that you roast on the flames, who slayed those beasts but hunters in our party, at my behest? The very air you breathe? It inflates your lungs because I will it to do so. I own you, you’re mine. And that means every part of you is at my disposal.” his wispy, silvery bangs tickle your cheek, “That means the warmth of your body… is mine, too. Nod if you agree.”
you listen to him, staring into the fabric wall of the tent as it flutters violently. the blizzard outside was harsh. his speech made sense. and you thought about all the times he’d protected you, and your brother, and the rest of the Hawks. you thought about how your stomach was never empty; he always made sure you had food to eat and shelter. and even when some of the Hawks had tried to convince him to cast you out of camp, he didn’t send you on your way.
after a few seconds of pondering, of feeling his bare skin against your back, his breath in your ear, you nod, slow and timid.
“Then surrender it to me,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out of you. you know they’re webbed with your unwilling arousal, but you don’t dare try to look down and see— you would be humiliated. Griffith shoves your hand off his cock to slather it in your essence, adding to its slickness, before he grasps himself tight at the base and splits your folds. you whimper against his hand, both of yours grasping the flimsy blanket. it’s more than new— it’s painful. the sting of your first invasion as the swollen tip spears your sex makes your eyes water. “Push back into it,” he mutters, breathy, when he notices you’re inching further and further away. his vice over your mouth works as an anchor, dragging you back. you do as instruction, albeit clumsily, and scoot yourself back, closer to him, giving him the submission he desires. “Take my cock deep into that tight, soft warmth of yours…” Griffith sighs when the head slips past your persistent, clenching threshold and your walls spasm around it. “That’s it. Give me what’s rightfully mine.”
a gurgled, muffled whine of shock is all that you can muster when Griffith conquers your body. the malaise that came with being stretched around him, the intensity of the pressure his girth puts on your lower belly simply by nesting inside you, and the furious fluttering of your inner walls, clenching and milking his cock, has your head spinning. your previous climax ensured you were extra sensitive to his throbbing cock, as it barreled into you.
“I thought your body might try to push me out,” he whispers, his breath heavy with lust as he drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, he lets out a raspy chuckle, “but you’re caressing me, squeezing me. Drawing me in, luring me…just how deep will that frenzied, virgin cunt of yours allow me to venture?” the softness of his lips is a boggling juxtaposition to the deep, hard thrust of his hips as he buries his cock to the hilt in pure, uncharted territory. you cry out, and wince. he’s hit something that sends a jolt through you; his thick tip bumps against the stopper as if he’s testing the will of your body, challenging it to make room for him.
finally, when he knows he can thrust no deeper, when you lay, your core pressed flush to his base and balls, he stills there, refusing to acknowledge your protested whining. refusing to care that it’s too much all at once for someone so inexperienced.
“Do you know what that is?” he asks, “that pesky, little bumper?”
you shake your head, tilting it back as far as you can to try and read his eyes. they were always impossible to comprehend— the depths of them rivaling that of the sea, but in this moment, you needed to see them. however, Griffith had his head tucked into your shoulder, and all you see is silver tresses. “That’s your cervix I keep prodding at. Your limit. Even for a virgin, you’ve taken me in so deep that I can feel your womb.” he lets out a raspy chuckle, as if he’s even impressed. you choke on a mewl, weak and pathetic, blinking back tears that threaten to well up in your eyes. “Why is that?”
you didn’t have an answer to give him, even if he were to let you speak.
“You’re feverish now…” he takes note of the way you’ve heated up, his free hand slipping under the flimsy top to paw at your heaving breast. you can feel, not see, him smile against your neck when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching hard enough to coax you to squirm and a muffled moan dies on his palm. “This must feel good, to wrap around your first cock. Is that what it is? Why you’re warm all over, now?”
regardless of the stretch, the fullness was starting to feel… good. even as humiliated as you were to admit it to yourself, you could handle the burning, which had subsided into a dull sting, because your insides were fluttering. your heart was pounding, your head was swimming. you were starting to like it. you whine, embarrassed, and try to smush your head into the pillow to escape your own humility.
“Huh,” Griffith inhales the scent of you that clings to your shoulder, his grip on your mouth tightening so he can pull you even closer, and your back arches until you’ve shrunk— your knees closer to your chest, your neck craned, all to the end of being as close to his body as he wills it. you both knew that he couldn’t force himself any deeper into you, but it definitely felt like he was trying to. “I was only going to use you to warm up, but your greedy, little cunt won’t stop clenching, even when I’m still.” his lips find your earlobe, and he pants, drawing it between his teeth, “could it be that you’re trying to make me cum inside you?”
your eyes widen, and you fervently shake your head, “Nn-nn! Nn-nnnf!”
“Ah, but your body is telling me something different,” Griffith croons, sliding the hand on your breast down over your belly. he takes only a moment to press against it, teasing the pressure where he knew he must be buried, and your eyes threaten to roll back in your head. it feels good, his firm caress from both sides, massaging clusters of nerves you didn’t know existed. “You wouldn’t be making such pathetic, submissive little noises… you wouldn’t be milking my cock, or… this, here,” his fingers sweep lower, caressing your swollen button. your head drops forward, and you snort furious puffs through your nose that fan against the curve of his fingers, “this wouldn’t be quite so sensitive if you weren’t desperate for me, would it?” your hips twitch, and you feel an overwhelming urge to grind that sensitive, little bundle against his fingers, but he murmurs, his open mouth shaping the syllables against the sensitive portion of your hairline just before your ear, “Don’t squirm so much… just stay still, just caress me from the inside.”
it was a more difficult request than you’d anticipated, because he didn’t cease his teasing, flicking at your throbbing clit, rubbing it, murmuring in your ear that you submitting to him was exactly what he wanted. your body wanted to writhe and jerk and grind, but you also longed for him to move, too. there was a carnal desire, deeply buried, that wished he would pin you to the ground and fuck you so hard that your body was sore for days.
you’d never had such a filthy desire before this moment, when his thick cock thumped in your depths, and he strummed your most sensitive prize as if he were playing on a harp. he knew every chord, his soft fingers tickling you in ways that had you desperate and needy. for him.
Griffith doesn’t tell you when his climax is at hand, and you’ve not the experience to read the signs. the twitching, pulsating against your canal getting more and more furious until he grips you tight with both hands, and elicits a euphoric grunt into your hair that staggers into a heavy sigh of relief. spurt after spurt of warmth seeps into your belly, and you babble, half in protest, and half in pleasure, against his hand as you’re given all of his release.
“Close your eyes.” he mutters after a moment, his voice even once more. he doesn’t pull out, nor does he release your mouth, but his other arm hooks around your midriff to keep you close. “Go to sleep.”
you blink, puzzled that -even though he seems to be finished- he doesn’t withdraw from you. you squirm, both hands reaching down between your legs to feel, and murmur nearly incoherently against his palm, “Wrhh it shrill inshide?”
Griffith nods, dragging the edges of his teeth along your sensitive neck, sighing softly in content. “With it still deep inside. You’re still spasming, your cunt is still warm. My cock is sure to harden from your incessant clamping, over and over again. You’re going to go to sleep, and let me pump you full of my cum over and over, and by the time the sun rises and the snow melts enough, we shall see if your little belly is too full to even move.”
all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )
just think about being femto’s chosen pet.
a hawk that should’ve been sacrificed with the others, and yet you lived. your former leader, the same as your former lover, was gone and in his place stood a looming, dark winged angel of death. however, a soulless crimson gaze remains fixed on you for what seems like hours and hours. clawed hands wrapped around the large, domed cage he’s trapped you in, as if he wants nothing more than to rip the door off and grab you.
at first, you cried and beg to be freed. you call his name in desperate shrieks. “Griffith, please! Let me out!” but, eventually, you realize that it will do no good.
femto has no reaction to your begs for mercy. he is stoic and silent, with ever-watching eyes that follow your every move. he doesn’t try to stop you from pulling at the bars- no, bones, of your cage. oh no, femto reaches his shiny, black arm into your cage, sharp claws extended, grasping for you.
though, of course, you stumble to the back wall of the cage, it is nowhere near big enough to hide from him. you turn your face, feeling the very tips of his claws, like daggers, drag along the fleshiest section of your cheek. you whine at the sensation, certain that if he applied any pressure at all, his claws would pierce your cheek. one, large thumb hooks against your jaw, pulling your face back towards him. you squint, but your body is too weak to fight against his command, and with a small sound of protest, you look up at him. he towers over your cage by at least a full head and shoulders, but his face is leaned so close to the bars that it is nearly pressed against it— his feline eyes pinned out. he looked like a beast, and you were almost surprised that he didn’t snort like one. but, you’d noticed, that femto’s chest didn’t rise and fall with breath, at all.
his obsidian talons scrape along the shape of your jaw, his thumbnail dragging against your trembling, lower lip. you wonder, as you cower in front of this demon king, if there’s a single inkling of Griffith left within him. did he, somehow, recall the taste of the lips that he touched, now? there was a glittering possibility in his eyes. as if he were deep in thought as they focused on your lips. however, his pupils started to dilate the lower his gaze, and his claws, traveled. tearing open your top with ease— as if shredding old parchment.
your chest heaved, up and down with ragged breathing as you whined and begged him under your breath not to hurt you, but he wasn’t listening. by the time his massive palm envelopes your bare breast, his pupils were so blown out that they possessed the entire eye, making them abysmal pools of wicked intent. he teases your taut nipple with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing experimentally before the sharp end of the nails poke and prod at the bud, causing you to squirm and pant, nervous. they nick your flesh, whether he means to or not, and a thin stream of rubies drip from your chest, running down the length of your belly. you gasp, and try once again to recoil from him, but the closer you press yourself into the opposite side of the cage, the closer he leans, until his body is up against the bone bars, and they creak from his weight.
“Don’t… touch…” you whisper, desperately, but it’s much too late. closing your eyes as you feel his cruel fingers tread lower, smearing your own blood into your skin before they delve between your quivering legs. you try to close them, but even his fingers are too strong to defy, and they press against your tender button hard. “A-agh!” you’re forced to bite back the sound of discomfort, the tips of his talons scoring at your most vulnerable core, the slick pads of his fore and middle finger pushing at your nether lips to spread your pussy open. your thighs, shaking but wide, do little to cover the full view of your cunt to the monster, whose smile is faint, and his tongue flicks at his own, vermilion lips. with the length of his ring finger, he rubs between your folds, pulled apart to grant him the access that he wants, and you feel the pressure from every inch of his long, thick digit. “M-monster…”
it doesn’t seem to bother him. in fact, you wonder if he even heard you. his eyes glued to your cunt, his finger rubbing from your clit to your hole, that clenches unwilling at the rough treatment. you hate that your clit swells and throbs against his finger, and that when he realizes, he focuses all of the pressure there, until you’re moaning and squirming, with tears in your eyes.
you don’t want it to feel good, but it does.
you don’t want to cum, but you do.
and you don’t want that to seal your fate as femto’s fragile, little fuckdoll. but it does.
Headcanon or scenario of reader trying to alleviate Griffith’s stress after battles?
You know exactly what I'm going to say right? Fucking.
It usually starts as a massage and then escalates to good old sex, battles just get his adrenaline pumping, and then winning the battle just adds to it. Griffith will be on you the moment he's back, consider it a victory lap as he absolutely destroys you, and everyone will know what's happening too. Griffith is usually slow and sensual with you but after a battle? Oh, you're in for it. He'll mark you up as he pounds into you, and this is when his possessiveness is at its peak, you're most likely to hear him saying he wants to put a baby in you after he comes back from a battle.
anyway I'm extremely tired of this newer generation and late gen z disguising their disgust for sexuality and expression of sex through words like "gooner/gooner-bait", etc! basically spouting tradcath puritanical nonsense
it is in truth a new way of calling someone a "degenerate"
head is pretty empty rn except for this specific scenario that’s been flooding my fat head saurrrr 🙊🙊
(i suck at wording stuff btw but here bae)
since miguel is almost 7 feet tall 69ing w him almost impossible especially if ur average height or lower (5’3 gang ✊ saw a height comparison with our heights once and it got me thinking) you guys would be struggling so hard but when you finally have miguel in ur mouth you’ll be far too away from him to reciprocate which is TORTURE for him. watching you get wetter to show how badly you need him, slick drooling onto his rib cage that he can’t reach and taste :( so obvi he gets frustrated and loops both arms around ur legs and pulls u up to his mouth, n before u start complaining that u can’t suck him he shoves two fingers in ur mouth and tells u to suck on them instead (꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)
69ing with miguel
note: dude..... you're a genius alicia now i'm going fucking crazy at the thought thanks!
after minutes of you both repositioning and adjusting yourselves, you're finally on top of miguel's broad body, tits squished against his happy trail, sucking on his cock blissfully. globs of spit and arousal slipping down his base. tears trickling down your cheeks. nothing turned you on more than taking all of him while feeling him twitch and throb in your mouth.
unfortunately for miguel and his tall figure, his mouth can't even reach your pussy. so he just lays there, watching the way your slick drips onto his lower chest, aching for his tongue. he feels like he's gonna die. as wet and needy as you are for his mouth on you, you were addicted to how he feels down your throat. feeling every vein, every pulse, you simply couldn't stop.
"love your cock baby mmph" you whimper, your soft hand barely able to wrap around his girth. "yo se que te encanta princesa, fuck wanna taste you so bad too" he groans, stroking his large hands down your thighs, spanking your ass. he throws his head back as his chest rises, feeling your warm mouth around him and your hard nipples against his skin. "mmm mamita wanna make you feel so good, please" he moans, getting impatient. "sooo inpatient, esperaté chulo" you grin, kissing his tip. he starts getting frustrated, he feels like he's seeing stars. watching you take all of him as he lays there unable to devour you right then and there.
in the meantime, he runs his fingers in between your wet folds, circling it slowly. then he shoves his two thick fingers into you, groaning at how tight you are. "tan apretadita por mi, dios mio" he utters. you squirm from his touch, whimpering as you continue sucking him. "mmm she loves my fingers doesn't she? can feel her clenching on me" he chuckles, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. you pull him out of your mouth for a second. "mm f-fuck miguel don't stop" you whine, tapping his tip on your tongue as you stroke him slowly, unable to concentrate from his fingers inside you. you’re making him go insane, and he can’t hold back anymore. "puta madre, vente aqui" he hisses, as quickly loops his hands and arms around your thighs, pulling your aching hole up towards his mouth. "shit miguel w-wait" you exclaim, but before you can say anything else he’s already feasting on you.
he runs his tongue up and down your walls relentlessly, tasting your juices. groaning against your cunt, sending vibrations up your body. his arms wrapped tightly against your thighs, savouring you like you’re his last meal. he sticks his two fingers back into you, fingering you as he tongue fucks you. your body trembles non-stop. "miguel fuck mmm so good oh my g-god" you moan, your hand faintly stroking his hard cock. he doesn't say anything but moan and grunt against your hole. you start becoming more desperate, drooling at the sight of his dick leaking. you wanted him in your mouth more than ever.
"mm want you in my mouth again baby" you frown, looking back at him as he doesn't pay mind to you and continues. "let me suck you, p-please" you whine, trying to get his attention. he scoffs and finally pulls his mouth off of your leaking cunt, still fingering you. "can't ever keep that pretty mouth shut for once hm? always wanting to suck me all the time" he ridicules. you whimper, furrowing your brows at him. he pulls his fingers out of you. "open" he commands, sticking his soaked digits in your mouth. you suck on them, tasting yourself as you look at him with that wide-eyed look that drives him fucking crazy. "happy now hm? mhmm mi putita, so fucking dirty f'me" he mutters, smirking at how nasty you look. he continues eating you out, one hand on your asscheek while you suck his fingers on his other one.
miguel drags his other empty hand to finger you again as he continues eating you out like a starved man. you mewl and shake on top of him. you start closing your legs at the overstimulation, he splits them apart again with big hand, “tsk tsk mantenerlas abiertas mi reina”. you feel your orgasm approaching and miguel can feel it too by the way your cunt clenches on his fingers. “gonna cum now baby? shh shh yo se chiquita, let it out f’me” he coos. your moans and inaudible noises encourage him to go faster, his tongue lapping over your folds at a rapid pace as his fingers thrust in and out of you. you feel like you’re in heaven.
suddenly you’re cumming on his tongue and fingers, mouth hanging open at the sensation. “baby fuckk oh my g-god miguel!” you cry out. he groans against your creamy pussy, bringing both of his hands to your inner thighs, holding you securely on his face as your legs tremble uncontrollably. his nose nudging against your clit, “mmmmph mm” he murmurs against your cunt. you look above you and he’s shooting ropes of cum all over his lower stomach, just from eating you out. you lazily smile as you reach your hand to stroke him, finishing him off as he leaks all over your hand.
he finally lets go of his grip on your thighs, kitty licking your clit. "mm i'm sensitive mig" you whine as he smirks, planting some last kisses on it. "fuck" he breathes out as he rests his head back, licking his lips. you lay on top of him in silence for a couple seconds, trying to catch your breath. then, you scoot away from his mouth, getting off of him. you turn to him as your knees sink into the bed. you kiss his lips, "you're crazy baby, jesus christ" you chuckle. you reach towards your nightstand to grab a towel as you clean him and yourself up.
you lay back in bed with him, as he brings the sheets over the both of you. "you're incredible baby, would do that for you everyday" he grins, looking at you as your tucked in his shoulder. "mmm yeah? you smile, eyes twinkling as you look at him. "mhm, she deserves that" he smirks, dragging his finger along your inner thigh. "heyy" you chuckle, swatting his hand away. he turns his body sideways towards you and he kisses you tenderly. he strokes you cheek and caresses your back softly. "te quiero muchisimo. haria todo por ti mi reina, te lo juro" he whispers, eyes full of love and passion. "mmm stop" you giggle, covering your face shyly as your cheeks heat up from his words. "don't hide from me, i'm serious" he smiles as he grabs your hands from your face, planting kisses all over you. “mi hermosa" he murmurs, "i love you".
Men who you can easily control and convince of things if you use your nuclear bombs, also known as your boobs.
There he was, sitting in that chair and reading documents for the past 4 hours. It is midnight and he still refuses to go to bed because those documents were apparently ‘really important’ and due tomorrow. Although you recognize his hardworking spirit, sometimes he takes it too far.
That’s why you used your biggest weapon.
You flashed him.
“I’m sorry, my love, but I really need to—” That exact moment of him finally turning his face to stare you back was when you lifted up your shirt, making him paralyze immediately.
His face was stoned at a perfect angle where he could clearly see and appreciate your breathing boobs, his eyes getting dry from the lack of blinking.
“Don’t you think you’ve worked a lot today already? You need have good-quality sleep if you want to work well…” You decided to act extra mean to him and used your hand to squeeze in their favorite way.
He kept staring at your boobs in silence for some awkward seconds.
…
…
…
“Ok.” He immediately dropped his pen and jumped out of his chair and launched his mouth towards one of your breasts, taking it like he has been starving for it for years now.
stranger!miguel hitting up pornstar!reader for that rain check or another video idea comes to life. p1 — inspo (half is proofread)
miguel decided to not text you that same day because he’d seem too desperate and although he was, he didn’t want you to know that.
but what he did do was look your channel up on the hub because he had no fucking shame. it was luckily on the same card with your number and he instantly knew searching you up would be a mistake.
he spent damn near hours jerking off to as many videos as he could before he couldn’t handle edging any longer and he came so hard, some of it landed on his mouth while your moans continued filling his ears.
the next day he made his move, texting you and when the message popped up you were so excited. things like this didn’t usually happen to you and it would be fun to have a part two with him..
so you quickly gave him your address and he was speeding to get there, already feeling his shorts getting tighter at the thought of you sucking his dick like you did in your videos. you looked perfect on your knees, like a goddess and he was somehow going to be lucky enough to see that view.
he rang the doorbell and within a few seconds you opened the door, quickly pulling him inside. you pushed him against the door and kissed him, he immediately kissed back without any hesitation.
his hands instantly went down to your ass, groping you to ensure this was really happening. once you moaned into his mouth that was more than enough of a confirmation that it was.
his tongue slipped inside your mouth while he pulled a hand back then smacked your ass. you moaned again and he just ate it up, moaning along with you because you just sounded so fucking good.
his hands went lower, to the back of your thighs and when he mumbles for you to jump, you do. with your legs around his waist, your hands wrapped around his neck it made you realize he had to see where he was going so you pulled away and started kissing down his neck.
he was already breathless as you murmured the directions to your room then going back to his neck, making sure to leave a few marks. he moaned as you sucked on his neck then feeling your warm tongue circling it and he just knew he was already embarrassingly hard.
he walked you both into your room and carefully climbed into the bed then had you laying down. you went back up to kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he began grinding himself against you. his hard on not only making you groan but also impressing you.
he was already incredibly hard.
his hands went to your hips then coming back up to get a feel of your perfect tits. he squeezed them and it was only at that moment he realized you were only hearing a sweatshirt.
and that was when you realized you don’t even know his name.
you pulled away and let out a chuckle when he went down to kiss your neck, “not too late to ask for your name right, handsome?”
he pulled away, letting out a laugh as he shook his head, “it’s miguel.”
“good to know, now i’ll know what i’ll be moaning.” you murmur and give him a wide grin.
“and while we’re at it, i didn’t post the video.” you say and he raises an eyebrow, “realized it’d be kind of fucked to post without getting your consent.”
he hummed and nodded, “makes sense…”
he thought about it for a moment. what would the odds be that someone he knew would find it… and even if they did, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. he wouldn’t really mind.
and if you did post it he’d just have another video to help him out. hell he wants you to post it for the sole fact that he will get himself off to it.
“you can post it… maybe just blur if my face does pop up.” he says and you furrow an eyebrow.
“you sure? i could always scrap it-“ you start to say and he cuts in, “no! i mean- um- it’s fine, i genuinely wouldn’t mind.”
you fight back a laugh and nod, “okay then, i’ll try to edit it afterwards to post later.”
“then in that case i had another idea for a new video…” you mumble and he hums.
didn’t take much convincing to put the chest harness on him and having a small gopro by his chest as you sucked him off. you were on your knees, on the top of the soft carpet you bought specifically for these types of shoots. except miguel wasn’t a professional but he was doing even better than the ones who were.
he was a big moaner which instantly had an effect an you, not much of a surprise that your arousal was already seeping through the small fabric of the thong you had on.
you were taking as much of him as you could and stroked the rest while making sure to look him in the eyes and not the camera like you usually would.
for videos like this it was always meant to be about the pleasure for the viewer, and to make them come back for more, not the person whose receiving it. but there was just something about him that made you want to see his reaction and for once not caring for the viewers.
so when you already felt him twitching you quickly pulled away making him groan, “fuck- come back baby-“
you were tempted to but decided not to and instead stood up and went to the bed. you laid down on the end of the bed horizontally and brought your sweatshirt over your tits then motioned for him to come.
he quickly walks to you and you grab his cock, slowly stroking it because you wanted to edge him. you spread your legs and his left hand made its way to you, not waiting around and gathering up your slick with the tip of a finger.
he slid a finger in and it went in so easily, you couldn’t even be surprised. you moaned and sped up, looking up at him as he matched your speed. he moaned along with you, those eyes nearly sending him to his grave while he choked on words, “f-fuck- oh baby- you’re so- shit.. i-i-“
he stopped then added a second and third finger, pumping them inside this time without waiting for you. he made sure to go as fast as he could, able to hear your loud moans.
you squeezed your tits to get with your arms, holding onto the right with your right hand and biting your lip at the camera. you gripped his cock a little more and stroked him even faster, quickly feeling him twitch in your hands as his eyes trailed down to watch the way your tits bounced. he was so mesmerized that was where the camera was facing until he snapped out of it and turned his body a bit so the camera would see him fingering you instead.
“look so pretty like this-“ he murmured making you laugh then moan as he curled his fingers up.
he kept curling them after every thrust making you clench onto them and your eyes were rolling back from the pleasure. “so fucking pretty.” he moaned and went back to looking at your face.
you opened your eyes and gave him a smile, “n-not too bad yourself baby.”
his eyes rolled back, and he started twitching in your hand again, “gonna cum for me?” you murmur and he quickly nods.
he was thrusting his hips back and forth while you scor closer to the edge and he stayed still as you slipped his cock inside your cock. you quickly took him down to the hilt then pulled back only to take him down your throat again. “fuckk baby- just like that-“
you moaned against him and he slammed his fingers harder, making your legs shake. you pulled away from and only stroked him, aiming it towards your tits, “please cum for me, want it so bad.” you whined, gorgeous wide eyes just begging for it.
with one final stroke, he groaned and spilled his load all over you. most landed on your tits but some even made it to your tummy. you came around his fingers and felt your entire body shake with a hard hitting orgasm.
a rarity nowadays.
you let him go and he slowly slipped his fingers out of you as you closed them shut, still slightly shaking while he bent down. he was kneeling in front of you, gently caressing your head as you both calmed yourselves down.
you gave the spot next to you a weak pat and he tiredly got onto the bed and he helped turn you so you were now laying on your bed vertically. upside sure, but at least the correct way.
he laid down next to you and you got comfortable laying on his chest as he went back to caressing your head and running a hand up and down your back. you looked up and took a quick peak at the camera, quickly reaching up to switch it off, “they don’t gotta see this.”
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ day six!! love soft snuggly miggy the best wc: 1.3k ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ masterlist
“There’s my girl…” He smiles, watching your eyes flutter open and adjust to the morning light in the bedroom. Sheets spread lazily across your bodies. A slight chill on your skin in your tank top and sweatpants. Since the weather is getting colder all the time. But Miguel always runs hot of course. He sleeps in boxers and only boxers all through the year. His bare chest lit up by the shards of sunlight breaking through the curtains. “Morning, pretty…”
“Mm… morning…” You hum, rubbing your hands over your face and stretching against the pillows. Huffing and trying to wake up for real. You got home late last night from work. Wolfed down your dinner and just collapsed in bed. It is hard when work and life get busy and you don’t have much energy to spend a lot of time with Miguel or do date nights or anything like that. It’s been almost a week since the last time you had sex. That’s shocking actually considering how often you guys get intimate. But he’s busy with work and you are too. It’s not easy to balance everything.
“I gotta get to the bank… and I think… my boss wants me to um… do the…um…” You think out loud and sit up with a sigh. Pushing your hair back and going through the checklist in your mind of all the things you need to do today.
“But it’s Saturday…” He says. Looking up at you from his head on the pillow.
“Oh yeah…” You nod with a shrug. You actually didn’t even realize it was the weekend. Because all the days blend together when things are this busy. “I just need to get some things done this morning…” You explain. Getting up out of bed. He sits up once you leave the bed. Sighing internally. He’s frustrated. Not with you. But with all the things that take you away from him everyday. And him from you. He can see the toll this string of long days is taking on you. “Maybe we can get dinner tonight…” He suggests, running his fingers through his hair, calling to you in the en suite bathroom as you’re brushing your teeth. “Yeah I’ll have to see…”
You’ll have to see? He misses the days you’d drop everything at the chance to have a date night. Knowing you just can’t do that right now. Sometimes he worries you’ve lost interest in things like that. But then he sees you working so hard and he knows that’s not the case. Life can’t all be rainbows and butterflies and sex. As much as he wishes that’s what his life with you could be.
You emerge from the bathroom, walking over to your dresser to find some clothes for the day. And he watches you silently, staring at your back. He loves you so much. And it feels like a piece of himself is missing when he’s this far from you.
“Hey baby…” His voice hums behind you. And you peer over your shoulder to look at him still mostly in bed. “Yes?”
“Can you c’mere?” He asks, resting his head on his hand. That look on his face is pretty adorable. You sigh and smile, putting down the piles of clothes. Walking to the edge of the bed.
“No like… up here…” He laughs softly, reaching out for your hand and holding it. Coaxing you to come back to the bed with him. “For what? What are you doing?” You smile as you climb back up to him, unable to stop the giggles in your chest. “I’m snuggling with you.” He says stubbornly, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in an iron grip. Flopping back onto the bed to lie down with you wrenched in his arms. “Hey, that's too rough!” You laugh and he does as well. Settling down after the mattress finally stops bouncing. Nose to nose and in his arms.
“You’re very pretty…” He hums with a crooked smile on his lips. The soft signs of sleep still gracing his handsome face. Making him even more beautiful if that’s even possible. Nudging his nose against yours. Needy to be close. To just be close to you like this eases all his concerns and worries. Worries that you’re unhappy. That you’re not okay. When you’re in his arms he’s sure this is where you’re meant to be. “Miss you…”
Your eyes widen a bit. Have you been totally oblivious to his feelings the past few weeks? It hasn’t been that long has it? Maybe it has… “I’m sorry, Mig… it’s just… there’s so much going on…” You whisper. Instantly feeling guilty. “No no, baby, it’s fine… it’s not your fault.” He hums, his fingers gently caressing your lower back under your shirt. “Just miss seeing you… miss kissing you and holding you…”
His words make your heart just melt. Raising your hand to his soft warm cheek and the soft curls by his ear, pushing them back with gentle fingers. Gazing into his eyes.
…
“Oh- I love you…” He moans in your ear, his arms wrapped all around you, tangled in each other and the sheets. With his large form spooning you from behind, one of your knees drawn up by his strong hand, his thick dick pumping into you, seeking out the warmth and wet like a lifeline. “I… love you, Mig…” You whisper. Hardly able to catch a breath. One of his strong arms locked around your waist and the other arm keeping your thighs from closing. It’s been too long. You both need this. He won’t be far from you any longer.
“Needed you so bad baby… so so bad” He practically whines. Rutting into you like he’s in heat. Pumping and pushing, stretching your puffy walls around his length. Being swallowed up over and over again. Feeding you his inches and biting into your neck, moaning and sighing against your skin. “Please say that… that you missed it… that you wanted me…” He whispers. His mind mush. He’s needy for your approval and reassurance. That you love him, that you want him. That you needed him as much as he needed you. “I-”
“Please baby!” He groans before you can even finish your sentence, speeding up his thrusts. Pounding into you and practically driving you up the pillows, your hand flying forward and clenching into the pillow under your head. His heaving hot chest pressed against your back. His hand moving from your thigh around to your clit. Rubbing like a madman and trying to give you the best he can. “Please please oh-” He sighs, his mind not even aware of his words at this point. They just flow out.
“Been waiting all week to put my cock in you, baby…”
His voice is hoarse, his pumps superhuman. The slaps of skin on skin and his desperate murmurs filling the room. “M…” You try. But he’s hitting all the right spots, all the places that make your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “Please say it… that you want it… you want me…”
“I want you…” You’re finally able to get the words out. The gentle whisper but it sends him over the edge. Pushing you down with his chest on your back and grabbing your arms, pulling them gently back. Your fingers grazing his thick thigh as he pounds into your pussy from the back, gripping into his muscles with your fingernails. “Ah!” The high pitched squeal leaves your throat, gasping and moaning into the pillowcase.
His knees pressing into the mattress and fucking you into the bed. Kissing over your shoulder and down your spine. “I want you baby… I love you…” He says out of breath. A sort of innocence to his voice even in this position. Like he really just wants you to know. As if you don’t already know.
A few harsh thrusts into your heat have you milking him, squeezing and shuddering around him with a whine and cry of his name. His cock glistening with your orgasm, fucking his hot load into you as he comes with a groan. Holding both your wrists behind your back, his eyes locked on where his dick disappears inside you. His milky essence seeping through the seams.
Art was found on Pinterest.
All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.
🕷️staring: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
🩸preview:
Placing in the brown contacts that he’d made last minute to hide his red irises and removing the black square frames from his sleeping, pathetic variant, he gazed at himself in the car mirror. There, he found himself—but not truly him.
Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…
A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.
🖤summary: After the tragic death of his daughter, Gabriella, Miguel is consumed by emptiness and darkness. Desperate for solace, he discovers you—a woman from another dimension—trapped in an unfulfilling marriage with a lesser version of himself. Seeing you reignites something in him, and he knows he must have you, no matter the consequences.
❤️tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Biting, Body worship, Claiming, Cock bulge, Desperation, Deception, Doppelganger, Dirty Talk, Human Miguel O’Hara, Identity Play, Imposter Fantasty, Fantasies, Fantasizing, Fingering, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Rough sex, Spiderman-2099, Tits Worship
The enchanted voice called out to him like a siren beckoning from the depths. The image of the magnificent woman before him—you—appeared, your hair blowing gently in the wind, sunlight illuminating each strand, making you look even more ethereal. Your skin glistened, and your eyes sparkled with a warmth that made his heart clench.
You were perfect, almost unreal, yet so tangible it ached.
“Miguel.” You smiled, that same smile that could quell his hot temper, soothe the desire in him that had been lost since his daughter passed, and unravel the most intricate parts of him, leaving him bare and vulnerable for the first time in a long while.
His chest tightened, his heart pounded, and he knew without a doubt that this woman was meant to be his…
“Miguel!?”
The voice called out again, but it wasn’t your soft, hypnotizing one. No, it was distant, sharp, snapping him back to reality.
Miguel flinched, his senses kicking in as he stood inside his office, his muscular body rigid under his blue and red holographic suit. His red eyes focused on Jessica Owens, his right-hand, standing in front of him, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised in both confusion and frustration.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” she asked, peering at him through her shades, evidently noticing his distraction.
Clearing his throat and blinking his dazed eyes, Miguel tried to compose himself, his thoughts still lingering on you, trapped in the endless loops of desire that seemed to consume him. Running a tired hand through his unkempt, dark curls, he released a deep sigh. “Mis disculpas… could you repeat that?”
Jessica eyed him warily, sighing. “I was talking about the anomaly in Earth-274 that LYLA detected,” she stated, her gloved fingers moving along the gizmo on her wrist, displaying the rampaging Green Goblin anomaly. “He’s been creating chaos since his arrival. We need to capture him and send him back to his dimension before he causes any more damage.”
Miguel hummed in acknowledgment, though his attention was barely on her words, simply appearing to listen. His mind was still reeling, the image of you seared into his consciousness.
He turned his back to Jessica, fingers moving across the neon-yellow keyboards of his monitors in a distracted manner. Holographic screens beamed brightly, displaying surveillance data, Spider Society operations, and loose anomalies like the Green Goblin variant… but hidden behind the chaos was your world.
Earth-956.
Jessica’s voice became background noise as he stared at the monitors. His mind wandered back to you again—to your laughter, the way your eyes shimmered when you smiled, the hypnotizing, graceful way your body moved…
It drove him mad.
He couldn’t keep doing this.
Jessica’s gaze lingered on him, and Miguel knew his right-hand could sense something was off.
And she would be correct—Miguel was anything but okay.
His appearance had grown disheveled. His tan skin had become pale and gaunt from lack of sleep. The usual sharpness in his red eyes had dulled, haunted by sleepless nights replaced with lust and longing. His dark brown hair was messy, the bags beneath his eyes deeper than ever.
But, as always, he waved off her concern.
“I’m fine, Jess,” he growled, his voice tight. “I’ll send you and a team to handle the anomaly on Earth-274. I don’t want any mistakes. Entiende?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, though suspicion and worry were evident in her voice. Miguel could hear her hesitance—the opening and closing of her mouth to speak—before she ultimately left, her footsteps fading into the distance.
The second the doors to his office sealed shut, Miguel let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him.
The buzz of electronics and the hum of Nueva York outside his window barely registered as he stood there, his chest heaving. All he could think about was you, the woman from Earth-956.
The one thing that kept him tethered to this madness.
“Ay, coño… I can’t keep doing this,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, scolding himself as he fought the ache coursing through his body. His fingers itched, craving just one more glimpse of you before he denied himself completely. Just one more moment of pretending…
“One last time.” He told himself the same lie every time, but the need was too strong. It clawed at him, consumed him. His hands moved on their own, bringing up the hidden screen, and there you were—like a light in the darkness.
“Come on, my love, you have work,” your voice floated through the feed, gentle and warm. He watched you walk across your bedroom, your hair falling perfectly, your skin glowing in the morning light. The sight of you always made Miguel’s heart leap into his throat.
The Spider Society Leader had discovered you by mistake while scanning the multiverse for anomalies, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he had to have you.
He adored the way you laughed, the way you moved, the way you said his name—even though it wasn’t him you were addressing.
“Hmm… yes, mi amor. I’m getting up,” came the familiar, sleepy voice of Miguel’s own. The one who looked like him but lacked everything that made him, him. The sight made his blood boil.
It was the other Miguel—the human version of himself from Earth-956. The weak, pathetic variant that didn’t deserve you. Miguel watched as this powerless copy of himself, with glasses and a smaller physique, shuffled into the frame, hugging you from behind.
Miguel’s red eyes narrowed in anger, growling in envy when Earth-956 Miguel nuzzled your neck, his hands stroking your stomach. The human Miguel pressed his cheek to yours, his voice low and apologetic. “Are you angry with me, mi amor?”
“No, of course not.” You hastily replied, but there was a sadness in your voice that Miguel could hear clearly, even if your husband couldn’t. “I just… I miss you.”
The human Miguel kissed the side of your neck, his affection weak and empty.
Pathetic.
“It’s just another project. I promise I won’t be home late again.”
‘La perra débil siempre dice esto.’ Miguel thought, the rage in him bubbling up. This other version of himself was throwing away everything that mattered—you—and for what? More time at Alchemax? More time busying himself with chemicals and useless projects? More nights away from his precious wife?
It made Miguel sick.
You pulled away from your husband, the hurt in your eyes piercing Miguel’s heart. “I just want my husband back,” you said, your voice brittle as you walked out of the bedroom. The human Miguel didn’t chase after you. He simply stood there, devastated, watching your retreating form before getting dressed for work.
Miguel clenched his fists, his sharp talons digging into his palms, enough to draw blood. Hearing the sadness and longing in your voice tore him apart. You needed someone to comfort you, to love you, to give you the affection you deserved.
Something Miguel desired in you just as deeply…
Earth-956 Miguel didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know how to love you, how to keep you.
But Miguel O’Hara did…
You wanted a child, and Earth-956 Miguel couldn’t even give you that. All his time was spent in the labs, toiling away at meaningless work while you were left alone at home.
It made Miguel furious. Angry growls slipped past his lips at the sight of his weaker counterpart, so blissfully ignorant of what he had.
Miguel’s mind raced. The thought had been gnawing at him for weeks, the seed of an insane idea growing until it consumed him entirely.
He could take Earth-956 Miguel’s place. Just for a day—even a moment—and he could give you the child you wanted, the life you deserved. It would be so easy—pose as him, slip into your world while the weakling wasted his life at Alchemax.
He would make you his, and you wouldn’t even know the difference…
Miguel O'Hara knew the risks. He’d attempted happiness before, only for the universe to deny him, taking his daughter and leaving him colder and emptier.
So yes, he was afraid…
But the sound of your weeping from the guest bedroom, and the sight of Earth-956 Miguel leaving the house, the door locking behind him, only solidified Miguel’s decision.
“I’m coming, mi amor,” he whispered to your sobbing form on the screen, his fingers reaching out to the holographic display, aching to console you, to erase all the sadness from your life—knowing he would, soon enough.
“I’m coming.”
You grumbled, picking up another of Miguel's many shoes left astray in front of the bed. ‘Can’t you clean up after yourself?’ you thought, understanding your husband’s passion for his work, but growing frustrated with his workaholic tendencies.
‘It always leads to this,’ you sighed, carrying the shoes to the foyer, where you neatly placed them on the shoe rack.
Dusting off your hands, you glanced around the home you and your husband shared. It was spacious, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and even a study for Miguel—though he hardly used it.
Your eyes drifted over the large portraits hanging on the walls of the foyer, giving anyone who visited the impression of a happy, loving couple.
But that wasn’t your reality anymore…
The huge grins, loving gazes, and passionate kisses captured in the photos were like scenes from a forgotten fairy tale. Now, you could only hope your husband makes it home for supper and wouldn’t fall asleep at the dining table.
Your heart sank at the revelation. What happened? Where did things go wrong between you and your beloved?
Is he falling out of love?
Has he found someone new?
Is he…
Cheating?
A tremor of fear ran through your body, making you ache.
But deep down, you knew the cause of your marriage’s decline.
A child…
Ever since you and Miguel married two years ago, you both dreamed of having a baby—someone to love and cherish, knowing it was the embodiment of your shared adoration.
But no matter how hard you tried, it never happened.
After countless failed attempts and doctors offering no explanations or solutions, Miguel eventually gave up on the idea of having a child. His voice was filled with defeat when he said it was impossible. He couldn’t even meet your eyes that night.
Devastation didn’t begin to cover how you felt.
Since then, it seemed as if Miguel had given up on everything, including your relationship.
Now, your once passionate marriage felt like a hollow shell.
Fighting back tears, you turned away from the photos that once told the story of your happy marriage and headed into the living room. Settling onto the sofa, you wiped your wet cheeks, trying to erase the traces of your sorrow.
“Television always helps,” you muttered, forcing a small smile as you pulled a throw blanket over your body, dressed comfortably in a matching shirt and shorts.
You grabbed the remote and quickly found a show you liked, hoping it would distract you from the heaviness in your chest. For a while, it worked—laughter bubbled out of you, the show helping you forget your pain, even if just for a moment.
But then a single tear slipped down your cheek, betraying the sadness still lurking beneath.
“Aww, man, was that seriously the last episode?” you sighed, realizing you’d soon run out of shows if you kept binge-watching like this.
Reaching for your glass and the wine bottle, you frowned when both were empty. You’d only just opened that bottle, hadn’t you?
You gave the bottle a little shake, hearing the last few drops swish inside. The desire for just more wine, for that brief numbness, tugged at you.
Glancing at your phone, you saw the time: 7:10 p.m.
“Gosh, Miguel wouldn’t like me going out this late—especially just for wine,” you pouted. But the craving was strong.
“It’ll just be a quick run,” you began to reason, but your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. ‘Did the door just open?’ You couldn’t believe it—Miguel never came home this early.
“Cariño, I’m home!”
The familiar voice of your husband filled the house, confirming your suspicions. Hastily, you stood and moved to the foyer, bare feet padding against the floor until you came face-to-face with him.
In utter disbelief, you watched as he took off his black oxfords, placing them neatly on the shoe stand. “I... I thought you were working late today,” you uttered as he turned to face you.
The trench coat, beige collared shirt, and brown slacks he wore seemed to hug him tightly, accentuating muscles that appeared more defined than usual. You pushed aside the hidden admiration for your husband’s new physique and walked over to him.
“Have you been working out lately? You seem… bigger,” you remarked, reaching to help him remove his coat, carefully sliding it off his broad shoulders before hanging it up.
Oddly, Miguel didn’t respond. He just stared at you, silent.
Raising an eyebrow, you glanced over your shoulder at him, worry creeping into your features. “Miggy… are you okay?”
Miguel O’Hara watched you—the woman he’d dreamed of, the one he’d longed to be close to—as you moved around him, touching him, so unaware of the truth.
Miguel had followed his plan perfectly. He’d completed his tasks at the Spider Society, disabled LYLA with a fake technical error, and entered Earth-956.
Tracking down his human counterpart at Alchemax had been almost too easy. Creeping through the lab’s vents and knocking the weakling out with a blow to the head felt strangely satisfying.
After undressing his unconscious self and stealing his car, Miguel was able to escape the place unnoticed and haul the man into the backseat.
As he headed to Earth-956, where you sat possibly watching television like you always did, Miguel felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
‘Would I be able to pull this off?’
‘What if she finds out and I scare her shitless?’
‘What if I lose her like Gabriella?’
Miguel’s mind raced, the last thought a hard pill to swallow. His large hands gripped the steering wheel, feeling the leather buckle under his strength. “Whatever happens, I did it for her happiness—my happiness…” he whispered, pulling into the driveway of his human self’s home.
For the first time in a long while, Miguel felt that familiar flutter in his chest. Amidst the butterflies of nervousness and fear in his stomach was one of anticipation.
Placing in the brown contacts that he’d made last minute to hide his red irises and removing the black square frames from his sleeping, pathetic variant, he gazed at himself in the car mirror. There, he found himself—but not truly him.
Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…
A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.
And for you, he stood in the foyer, gazing at the woman he knew like the back of his hand, yet he was an imposter inside your own home.
Shaking off the stupor, he cleared his throat. “Sí, I am, mi amor,” he assured fondly, giving you a smile that showed none of his fanged teeth.
You slowly nodded, believing it was the stress, returning to smoothing out his coat on the stand. “Well, there are leftovers in the fridge. You’ll have to warm them up—” A gasp escaped you when his large arms engulfed your center, hugging you from behind.
His body heat overwhelmed you, your husband’s hardened chest pressing into your backside, allowing you to feel every ridge of his abs and pecs—a musculature that you never knew was so defined. “M-Miggy…?” You called him in confusion, but you didn’t deny how your face filled with warmth at his touch.
You leaned back into his chest, your eyes fluttering closed as his cologne of sandalwood mixed with spicy undertones filled your senses, his scent always making you melt. The way he embraced you felt different from this morning, making you feel cherished and loved for the first time in a long while.
“Hmm?” Miguel hummed in response, running his broad nose under your jaw and along your neck, inhaling you deeply. You smelled just as sweet and felt as soft as he thought you’d be.
His rough hands stroked your stomach through your shirt and circled your navel with his thumb. “How have you been today, mi amor?” he purred into your ear. “I know I don’t ask a lot, and I’m sorry.” Miguel muttered, giving your smaller body a gentle squeeze.
Your heart clenched at his question of concern, as he’d never asked before. “I’ve been…fine,” you lied, as usual, never wanting to worry him. Placing a hand over his, you traced the ridges of his knuckles and interlocked your fingers with his, not remembering the last time he touched and explored your body.
A disapproving growl, almost animalistic, rang from his chest at your answer. “No me mientas, bebé. Be honest with me,” he scolded softly, his rough hand engulfing yours, running his thumb over your knuckles.
You bit your lip, unsure about being honest. However, he felt different today…
More caring, affectionate, loving…
Just like he was all those years ago.
“I…I felt…terrible,” you confessed aloud for the first time in years. “I-I was looking at our…pictures, and I couldn’t help wondering what happened to us, Miggy?” You asked, pulling out of his hold to turn to face him.
Keeping your hands in his, you gazed up at your husband, your eyes taking in his tired features and, despite attempting to be neat, messy hair. “Did I upset you? Anger you? You desperately asked. “Do you not…love me anymore because I was unable to grant you what you…wanted?” A broken sob you’d been trying to hold back tumbled free, followed by streams of tears.
At the sight of your tears, Miguel felt utterly devastated, each sob from your pretty lips bringing him immense pain he had never experienced before. He immediately sought to silence your cries. ‘Bebé, what you’re saying is tontería. It’s not true,’ he said softly, cupping your face and swiftly wiping the endless tears from your cheeks.”
You shook your head, crying in his hold. “H-how? You've done n-nothing but avoid me, Miggy,” you explained, your cheeks rosy and your eyes glossy. “You constantly stay at work, miss dinner, and I know y-you try, but at times I feel like…I feel like you do not love me. Not like you used to.”
Miguel watched with a mixture of sorrow and anger at the byproduct of his pathetic human self's actions. ‘How dare he hurt you so much? How dare he cause you to shed a single tear?’ he thought, wanting to erase your sadness, starting with removing these delusions.
Earth-956 Miguel probably avoided you, stayed at work, and missed supper—hell, the bastard possibly didn’t love you anymore—but Miguel O'Hara did.
He fell in love the moment he saw you…
Without warning, he pulled you close, his lips claiming yours in an instant, quieting your worries and cries.
He swallowed the surprised gasp you gave him as his hands cradled your face in his palms. Miguel wanted to cease your doubts about not being loved and to show you exactly who you belonged to.
Your eyes widened, your brain unable to keep up. ‘Miguel… is kissing me!?’ You were shocked.
It had been so long since your husband showed his adoration, let alone kissed you like you were his. Your heart fluttered, hands tentatively moving to grip his beige shirt, bunching the fabric at his hips to tug him closer.
This moment felt so surreal; just this morning, you had been arguing like always. Now he was showering you with the love you had been craving for years.
“Miguel…” You whimpered, your much smaller fingers clawing at him, from his biceps to his hips and chest in desperation. The sensation made him harden under his slacks.
Suddenly, as if a switch had flipped, the restraint Miguel had melted away. He grunted against your lips, pushing you against the wall with enough force to send your couple portraits rattling. Like a beast, Miguel was atop you once more, his massive body trapping you beneath him.
“Careful!” You giggled, but were instantly silenced by another bruising kiss.
Your husband’s kisses were deep and demanding, as if he were trying to memorize the feel and taste of you. His hands explored your body with a possessiveness that made your head spin, gripping your ass and sliding up your back as if he couldn’t get enough.
Every touch, every kiss was rougher and more insistent, much different from the loving and gentle intimacy he had shown you in the past.
A breathy moan escaped your parted lips when Miguel’s large hands engulfed your breasts, kneading them roughly through the fabric of your shirt. “Goodness, Miguel… I didn’t expect you to be like this.” You panted between sloppy kisses, believing it was the lack of intimacy that was causing this new and more passionate display of affection.
Miguel simply grunted in response, the Spider Society Leader completely blinded by lust. One hand left your chest to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back to expose your bare neck. At the sight of your untouched skin, Miguel practically salivated, attacking your throat.
You gasped, biting your lip when he pulled your hair. The slight sting on your scalp was a foreign sensation that you instantly adored. Humming in bliss, his lips along your throat made your head foggy, as if he were kissing your very soul.
“I’ve been neglecting you, babygirl, haven’t I?” Miguel asked, trailing his fangs along your skin, feeling you tremble at the sensation. The sweet nod you gave made his heart clench, fueling his desire further. “Let me make it up to you, cariño.” He purred, nipping harshly at your neck, leaving red love bites that he lapped at to soothe you, his discretion forgotten.
You whimpered, unsure of what you were feeling in your overwhelming state. “M-Miguel…” His name was all you could breathe, your nipples hardening under your shirt, clearly displaying your lack of a bra underneath.
Miguel’s mouth halted, ready to add another mark to your precious neck when his eyes snapped down to your chest, noticing the peaks. He smirked, pulling away to meet your hooded gaze. “Mi chica traviesa, traviesa,” he cooed, marveling at your breasts. “It seems you want me more than I believed.” Miguel teased, cupping your breasts and thumbing the hardened nubs.
You moaned, his touch sending tingles throughout your being. Gazing into the eyes of your husband, you discovered pure ravenous need staring back at you—a look you had never seen before, but it made you wetter than ever.
“I do; I’ve wanted you for a while, my love.” You genuinely told him, sticking to the agreement of honesty between the two of you.
However, your eyes widened, and your body warmed in pleasure as Miguel swiped his tongue along your cheek, coating your face with his warm saliva.
“Fuck, cariño, I’m one lucky bastard—” he rambled, kissing your lips, cheeks, neck, and collarbone, seeming to be everywhere at once, his hands following suit. “To have such an incredible, loving, and sexy wife.” Miguel muttered, leaving your breasts unattended as his hand descended lower, causing your heart to thump loudly in your chest.
“Joder, cómo tuvo tanta suerte?” he hissed, your husband’s words falling on deaf ears when his hand cupped your sex, making you squeak in surprise.
Moaning, he began to rub you, his palm pressing into your throbbing bud. “Hmm, I love you so much, esposa. Do you love me?” Miguel asked, his deep voice airy and full of lust, seeking your love.
Your mind was jumbled, unable to think of an answer when your touch-starved body was finally getting the attention it craved. Frantically, you nodded, grinding on his palm. “Y-Yes, always.”
The Spider Society Leader cursed under his breath, your shared adoration being what he had always wanted to hear from your pretty lips.
‘Shit, I can’t wait any longer,’ he thought, feeling the drool trickling down his jaw, his cock leaking precum inside his slacks, and talons threatening to extend from the tips of his fingers if he didn’t have you.
Right at this very moment…
“I need you, mi amor,” Miguel growled in a strained voice, a yelp escaping you when he hoisted you up in his arms.
Your legs clung to his waist, arms wrapping around his neck as his large hands grasped the underside of your thighs. A blush sprouted on your cheeks at the feeling of his erection throbbing against your core.
For the first time, when you looked at your husband, he appeared alive and energetic; even his skin seemed to be glowing.
You didn't know what had happened today at work to cause such a change, but nonetheless, you were beyond thankful for it.
Giving him a nod, you claimed his lips once more, needing him just the same.
Miguel smirked against your mouth, effortlessly carrying you through the dim hallways of your home.
His legs wandered the place like he always lived there, climbing the stairs with ease while satisfying your craving for his lips. Miguel devoured your pretty mouth, kissing and suckling your eager tongue that yearned for him as he did for you.
Upon reaching your shared bedroom, Miguel kicked open the door, not hesitating to toss you onto the bed.
You laughed as you landed on the mattress, feeling it sink under your weight. Laying on your back, your legs sprawled beneath you, your eyes peered teasingly up at your spouse. “You are being so rough… I kinda like it,” you told him with a smirk.
Miguel snickered, a hidden excitement in the back of his mind at the knowledge of not truly being your husband, yet you were enjoying everything he was giving you.
“Good,” the Spider Society Leader purred, removing his shirt with an effortless pull at the lapels of his button-up. Buttons flew, and fabric tore, but Miguel couldn’t be bothered; his eyes were trained on you.
His loving wife.
Your eyes widened, every moment with your spouse surprising you. “Miguel, your shirt—” Your words fell flat, practically choking when he revealed himself to you.
Removing the remnants of the destroyed button-up, your husband’s chest was on full display.
With an agape mouth and gaze of astonishment, you gawked at his defined pectoral muscles, the evident 8-pack that flexed with every movement, the pulsating veins from his burly arms, and lastly, how hairy your husband was.
Dark brown coarse hair covered his chest and descended from his navel, under his slacks, practically making you drool.
The amount of body hair was unlike him, knowing he was always about being clean and neat, but tonight, he had been different ever since he stepped through the door.
Perhaps this new him was everything you had ever wanted…
“I see someone has been… making some changes without my knowledge,” you said, trying to hide how arousing his rugged appearance was. “You've also been working out, it seems.”
Miguel raised a thick eyebrow, glancing down at his hairy body that was full of rippling muscles and sinewy limbs that coursed with the power from his mutation.
He wanted to mentally curse, knowing his muscular body type was too extreme compared to Earth-956 Miguel’s, your rightful husband.
But when the Spider Society Leader met your gaze of desire and saw how you bit your lip, it brought the beast out of him once more.
Abruptly, Miguel joined you on the bed, his body atop yours. He kissed along your neck and lapped at the previous markings he had given you. “Yeah, you like?” Miguel hummed.
You nodded, cupping his face. “Yes, but not as much as this,” you muttered, running a hand along his hairy chest, feeling the coarse strands tickle your palm.
I like this new you,” you whispered, meeting his glasses-covered eyes. “You should show this side of yourself more, hm?” Teasingly, you added, giggling as you reached out to remove his black square glasses and set them on your nightstand, eager to see your husband’s sexy features without the frames.
Miguel’s heart skipped a beat at your words, falling in love with you even more.
He pulled you into a searing kiss, groaning into your mouth and finding himself incapable of getting used to the sweet taste of you. His hands moved down to grab the front of your shirt; with ease, he tore open the fabric, releasing your bare breasts.
Your reaction was cut short as your husband descended down your body, sucking a tit into his mouth.
Whimpering, your fingers gripped the strands of his dark brown hair, tugging and holding him close. A nip from his very sharp teeth on your hardened peaks made you yelp
Miguel chuckled, swirling his tongue around your aching nipple, calming the sting from his bite. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined,” he muttered against your skin, pulling away to gaze down at you.
Your spouse’s hands hastily began to unbuckle and unzip his pants to free his throbbing cock. “Undress, mi amor.” His words caused your heart to skip a beat. “Show me the pussy that belongs to me.”
Your chest heaved, your thighs sticky with arousal that ached for your husband. Looking up at him, you couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of him being yours to love for the rest of your life— a thought you believed had faded years ago but was restored on this very night.
Matching his pace, you swiftly tugged your shirt off, freeing your bare breasts, and shimmied off your shorts to expose your legs and clothed pussy.
The Spider Society Leader groaned, your arousal filling his nose. “Fuck, you smell so good, bonita.” He purred, removing his boxers and pants to finally relieve his throbbing cock.
Your gaze traveled over your husband’s shaft, noticing it was surrounded by a bush of pelvic hair and seemed bigger and thicker than you remembered, believing it was due to his arousal. You bit your lip at the effect you had on him. “Gosh, I missed you so much,” you told him lovingly, spreading your legs and revealing your soaked panties.
A groan escaped Miguel at your words, precum dripping down his length at the sight of you.
He felt a burning in his chest to allow his true self to break free, to ravage you like the beast he knew he was and grant you what you desired.
And so he did...
His red eyes, concealed by brown contact lenses, darkened, and a growl escaped him. “You missed me, cariño?” he asked with a dark smirk, not bothering to hide his fangs that dripped with venom. “Then show me,” Miguel chuckled, stepping back to allow you room to obey his command. “On all fours. Ass up.”
Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment; the authoritative tone in his voice was unlike anything you’d ever heard from your husband. You watched with hidden interest as he stood behind you, stroking his large shaft, precum dripping onto the floor. Miguel’s eyes were narrowed, his face stern while waiting for you to comply.
You might not have experienced this new act of intimacy your spouse was showing you, but you didn’t want to disappoint him—not when you were so close to having him be yours again…
Moving into position, you turned to balance on your hands and knees, your rear facing your husband as he requested. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you at his look of approval. “Good girl,” he praised, biting your lip when the bed creaked behind you, his body heat engulfing you from behind.
Miguel eyed his sweet wife, running his large palm along the rear of the woman that was now his. He knew that once he claimed you, you’d never go back to the pathetic version of him known as your husband.
The Spider Society Leader ran a thumb along your clothed core, feeling it quiver under his digit. “Hmm... this pussy is begging for me, isn’t it, amor?” he laughed, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your dripping entrance.
Your breath hitched as the cold air brushed against your exposed intimate area. “Yes, Miguel, please. I need you,” you begged, arching your back and pushing your rear further towards him.
Miguel felt his heart skip a beat, the sight in front of him being every image that filled his mind when he jerked off at night. The pleading that left your pretty lips for him was what he fantasized about while fighting anomalies. This sight before him was everything he’d ever wanted, and now it was actually happening.
‘Fuck, this has to be a dream,’ he thought, even when he knew it wasn’t. “Please, Miggy. Don’t make me wait any longer,” you begged once more, your words going straight to his cock.
“Mierda,” he cursed, lining himself up and sinking into your delectable hole. Miguel growled, filling you instantly. “Joder, estás tan apretado, cariño,” he groaned, unable to wait as he slowly pulled out and slammed back in.
You moaned, your back arching at how good your husband made you feel. “Miguel! G-Goodness!” you cried out, not remembering the last time you both were intimate in this manner.
However, this time felt different—more intense, more desperate.
Your voice reached a pitch you never thought possible as his shaft penetrated deeper inside you, his hands gripping your arms and pinning them to your back.Your ass was raised higher for your spouse, your face pressed into the mattress as inaudible moans escaped you with the change of angle.
The dominance he showcased was so unlike what you were used to, but it was something you instantly enjoyed.
Miguel bit his lip harshly, his grip tightening around your arms. “You like that? Like how my cock feels inside you, miel?” he asked, giving your ass a smack at your lack of response. The frantic nods and exclamations of agreement from your gaping mouth only increased Miguel’s effort.
His hips snapped, thrusting into his sweet wife. The clenching of your pussy around his shaft was intoxicating, his cock plunging into your soppy cunt.
The sounds of wet skin and your gushing pussy bounced off the walls of your bedroom along with your combined cries.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you chanted, nails digging into your palms, your eyes rolling when the tip of your husband’s cock kissed your cervix. “Gosh! M-M-Miggy, I-I have to cum!” you choked, saliva trickling down your mouth, burying your face into the bed to muffle your cries.
With a scream, your release crashed over you. Your body thrashed and quivered, your eyes squeezing shut as the intense tingles of pleasure coursed through you.
Your juices spilled down your trembling thighs as you felt your husband pull away, leaving you to catch your breath.
Breathing heavily, your body remained kneeled, back arched and face resting on the bed, your messy hair shielding your features. The aftershocks of your orgasm were more extreme than you’d ever felt before and it left you in utter ecstasy.
Feeling pleased, you looked over your shoulder at your husband through your disheveled strands to find a surprising sight.
He was still...
energetic.
“Do you still want more, my love?” you asked breathlessly in sheer amazement.
Your husband usually needed to rest after granting you one round of intimacy, requiring a moment of recovery. But tonight, he was changed...
Miguel groaned, his cock still aching for more of you. The desire he felt from the intimacy with you was still at an all-time high. “Always, I always want more, baby,” he breathed, releasing your arms to join you on the bed.
He tugged you to rest your back against his chest, your body molding perfectly to his hardened one. His hand lifted your leg, sliding his rigid cock along your slit and teasing you with his thick member. “I know you’ve always wanted a little one, mi amor,” Miguel whispered into your ear.
“Why don’t we try one more time?”
Your eyes widened at your husband’s words, the shock and pleasure blending perfectly. Resting on your side, you cupped his face behind you, searching his features to ensure he was serious. “A-Are you sure? You... believed it wasn’t... meant to be years ago,” you told him between soft moans, the gentle peck on your temple from your spouse confirming your suspicions.
“I know, bebé. But I want to make you happy,” Miguel said, his gaze boring into yours, seeing the hope and love blooming inside. “I want to give you what you deserve, mi amor—what we deserve.”
To emphasize his words, he pushed into you once more, filling you to the hilt. You moaned; the eye contact between the two of you unbreaking as your husband thrust into you. His hand held your thigh, spreading you perfectly to take his cock with ease.
Your cries and the sound of your pussy’s squelching were music to Miguel’s ears, his fingers digging into the softness of your leg enough to bruise. “Fuck, you feel so good, cariño,” he growled, pounding into you vigorously.
Your eyes fluttered, instantly feeling that familiar burning in your stomach again “I-I’m close, M-Miggy,” you whined, your body very responsive and sensitive due to your lack of intimacy as of late.
Miguel snarled, increasing his pace. He buried his face in your hair, his balls slapping against your ass. “Cariño, I want you... to remember this moment,” he growled, his shaft pounding into you at an inhumane speed.
“When you become pregnant with our child, I want you to remember this—remember me,” he said, pulling away to use his other hand to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging you back to meet his eyes.
“I want you to know that it was I who made you happy—who granted you the child you've always wanted.” His words were punctuated with each rapid and precise thrust that took your breath away.
His fingers tightened in your hair as the ache in his groin and the tightening sensation of his balls grew. “Do you understand me, amor?” Miguel asked through parted lips, his fangs peeking out, but he doubted you’d noticed in your state.
He stared into the depths of your glazed eyes, hoping you’d grant his wish of being remembered even after he departed.
You gazed at your husband, your heart skipping a beat. His words seemed to hold a deeper meaning, spoken in a manner that felt wistful, but you hoped you were wrong, blaming it on the fuzziness in your brain.
His groans and continuous thrusts made your stomach burn with pleasure as you nodded. When you looked at your husband, even in his disheveled state, you couldn’t deny that he looked sexier than ever.
Tonight, every feature about him made you fall in love all over again—from his messy hair and amber eyes to his defined cheekbones and large frame that always made you feel small yet guarded and protected.
Tonight, your husband rekindled your adoration for him and your marriage, which was everything you didn’t know you needed.
“Y-yes…” you replied amidst the wet slapping of skin. “I’ll r-remember, for y-you.”
Miguel’s heart clenched, his movements halting as you looked up at him in utter infatuation—a look he believed was meant for him, not the Earth-956 Miguel.
The hot-tempered and controlling Spider Society Leader had finally found what he was looking for:
you.
Miguel groaned, smashing his lips against yours and moving in deep, slow thrusts. He wanted you to feel every moment.
When your spouse kissed you, it wasn’t filled with hunger and desperation like before; it was loving, which almost made you tear up.
The change in pace allowed you to relish every part of your husband, feeling the ridges and veins of his cock, the sheer girth of him, how he stretched you out perfectly and touched your G-spot so well that it made your toes curl.
It wasn’t long before you felt that high again—that need to release. “I-I’m cumming, M-Miggy, I’m cumming,” you said in a shaky voice, lying on your side with his muscular frame behind you, holding you close and showing his love with each pound of his cock.
The Spider Society Leader kissed your cheek as you shook in his hold, allowing your orgasm to overwhelm you. The way you screamed his name was everything to him; for once, you were addressing him, and he was no longer on the outside looking in.
Following your release, Miguel sped up. With a hiss, his shaft returned to its bestial pace, fucking into you like an animal in heat.
But it wasn’t long before the Spider Society Leader joined you in bliss.
With a deep thrust, a loud guttural groan erupted from his chest, releasing his load into you, filling you completely.
You moaned, arching your back against him, feeling yourself being stuffed. Your eyes squeezed shut in exhaustion as Miguel slowly pulled out.
Miguel brushed your hair from your face, taking in your stunning features. His heart clenched as he pressed gentle kisses on your shoulder and cheek, relishing each peck, knowing it would have to be his last.
He slowly rose to his full height, running his hand along your thighs and caressing your belly, hoping that by leaving a piece of him with you, it would grant you the happiness he wouldn’t be able to provide due to his absence.
Your husband’s loving touches comforted you. Sighing in relief, you felt him cover you with a blanket, the fabric soothing your jittery being. With a flick of a lamp, your bedroom was encased in darkness, except for the light beaming from Miguel’s side of the bed.
You could hear him moving around, making sure you were comfortable and content. However, when your eyes opened, you found him tugging on his pants, his massive body blocking the light as he put on his bottoms.
“Where are you…going?” you asked, the worry and sadness evident in your voice, Hastily, you sat up, tugging the blanket over your body, aware your hair looked like a total mess from your shared intimacy.
You didn’t want to go back to the ruin of your marriage, sleeping separately, with one of you in the guest bedroom while the other lay here.
You didn’t want to return to a marriage in which you weren’t happy, hoping your husband felt the same.
The longing for him was what Miguel feared. He couldn’t stay, no matter how much he wanted to.
But when he looked back at you sitting up in bed, your sad eyes practically on the verge of tears at his leaving made the thought of denying you impossible.
Smiling, he returned, crawling onto the bed and wrapping you in his arms. His arms engulfed you, holding you and seeking to let you go anytime soon.
“Thank you,” you whispered, snuggling closer and resting your face on his chest.
“Anything for you, mi amor.” His response making your heart flutter.
You lay with your husband, listening to his deep breathing and the faint thumping of his heart, feeling safe in his arms.
“I hope this moment never ends,” you said aloud, your fingers dancing across his defined abs and relishing in the expanse of muscle that encased you.
Miguel took in your words and your hopes for this moment to last forever. Oblivious, you didn’t realize that desiring more of this moment meant wanting him, not your previous husband.
Glancing down at your form resting atop him, Miguel couldn’t help but let another insane thought creep into his mind.
It was perfect—perhaps a little wicked and cruel—but he was doing this for you.
And your little one…
With a dark smirk, he tightened his arm around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Sí, let’s make this moment last forever…mi eposa…”
A/N: That concludes “You’re Not My Husband!” Goodness, writing both Miguel as a human and as Spider-Man 2099 was a joy! I especially like the difference between the two. If you enjoyed it just as much as I did, please like, comment, reblog, and follow!
I’ll be making a separate post, but Happy Birthday to the love of my life, Miguel O'Hara!! ❤️😘💙
If you’re excited to see what else my older sister, @powerful-niya, and I have in store for Vicetober, stay tuned. 😈
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nobody understands 'cringe culture is dead' better than self shippers tbh. if you're willing to draw yourself getting railed by your favorite character than you're living your true authentic life more than most people could even dream of
Miguel would eat you out like a man possessed on your period. Man's almost purring, and he's not a loud, messy eater, but all the blood and slick makes every song way more audible.
Miguel O’Hara x reader ⋅⟡⋅ Boyfriend Headcanons ⋅⟡⋅ On Your Period 🦇
nsfw 18+
CW: menstruation, menstrual cramps, oral sex, blood
They get dirtier as you read down so if you want to avoid the smut, just read 1-4 ;)
This is dedicated to all of my fellow bleeding humans ❤️🔥🩸🕸️ stay strong warriors 🫡
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
✣ Miguel takes time off of work when you’re on your period. He’s his own boss anyways, so he gladly stays home for days at a time to be your caretaker. He loves feeling needed. He loves putting all of his attention on you, and on making you feel good. You lay in bed, he spoons you and puts your favorite show on his laptop in front of you; he knows you’ll only be able to listen to it, closing your eyes and meditating through the pain. He’ll watch it from behind you, rubbing his big hand along the curve of your waist. He’ll prop his head up on one hand while he watches the show, softly chuckling to himself, as you fall asleep to the sound of his breathing and exhales of amusement.
✣ He acts as your own personal heating pad. You’ll lay on your stomach as Miguel lays sideways beside you, resting his warm face on your lower back, with one large hand on the back of your thigh. He knows you need warmth and pressure on you when you’re cramping, so he provides just that. You moan and groan when you get those sudden stabbing pains, signaling Miguel to rub your lower back and give you warm kisses as he mutters, “Lo siento, mi amor. Take deep breaths.” He rubs your back, as you dig your face into the pillow, groaning and wincing at every stab. He squeezes your thigh tightly, assuring you he’s there for you. He stresses out everytime you groan, wincing at the sound of your pain. He becomes restless, offering you different medications or demanding he spoon you so he can hold you tightly against him, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower stomach, putting pressure and heat to your painful parts. When you lay on your back, he’ll lay on his side, his face in the crook of your neck, as he rubs your lower stomach, muttering in Spanish, words of comfort. He kisses your neck, sucking and brushing his fangs across your wet skin, distracting you from the war going on inside of you.
✣ He gives you endless massages. Though he offers this even when you’re not menstruating, he’s especially desperate to make you feel good. He’ll sit at the edge of the bed massaging your feet and watching tv, as you lay with your head buried in your pillow. He’ll spoon you, his warm hand under your shirt massaging your sore breasts as you moan and hum from relief. You also love to lay on top of him, straddling him, your thighs wrapped around him, your bodies pushed together creating the heat and pressure your uterus is begging for. Your face rests in his neck, as he unsheathes his claws to scratch and massage your scalp gently. His big hands also find their way to your back under your shirt. He presses his fingertips into your skin, massaging your pressure points and creating heat all over. He explores your body, squeezing your hips tightly, then kneading your thighs as they envelope his waist.
✣ He keeps you fed. He’ll constantly leave bed and come back to bring you hot tea or chocolate. He’ll cook whatever you request or pick up whatever take-out you’re craving, and eat with you in bed as you binge watch your tv show of choice.
✣ He loves your scent. He can differentiate when you're ovulating and when you're menstruating. On your ovulation days, he’s wild around you, your scent provoking his beast-like appetite. On your period though, it’s a whole other scent he can't get enough of. He’s almost blood-thirsty. You teasingly call him your vampire; he chases after your scent and even craves the taste of your iron-enhanced slick. You were embarrassed about it at first, but after him constantly whining and begging you to let him dig his face in between your thighs, inhaling your scent, you accepted and embraced his cravings for you.
✣ He loves giving you head. He’ll lay a towel under you, and go to town, loving his ability to make you feel good. He loves the taste of you, your wet heat tasting of your cum mixed with the metallic taste of blood spread between your thighs. He also loves that you’re extra sensitive, making the pleasure that much more intense and rewarding. You moan even louder, desperate for that relief, which you both know, only he can provide. He loves making you whine and whimper from pleasure rather than pain. He’ll finish you off, his face covered in your blood, then he’ll run a warm bath for the two of you.
He knows he’ll never understand the pain you’re going through, but he can at least be there for you, and make you feel good in every other aspect he has control over.
Drink from the Fountain of Love 🍷🌹✨💕 @taste-my-wine69 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
