He Is So Yummy 😋

He got his lips out like he wants to be kissed so bad it makes him look stupid

spooky boys for spooky season

boo, they're gonna suck your blood!

through the storm | jake lockley

a/n: i'm squeaking i loved this. seeing jake be so rough on himself and finally giving himself what he needs; you. ugh, it's a trope I'm all here for every second of every day 💗 thank you to the beautiful nonnie who requested this ☺️

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, marc and steven are only mentioned,

summary: steven loves to cuddle through a storm, marc too. but jake can't give himself the pleasure of falling asleep in your arms, until finally you convince him.

w/c: 0.8k

moon boys masterlist

The rain poured against the top of the apartment, bringing you out of your book. You were cozied up in bed, watching as flashes of lightning illuminated the nook-like space. 

You yawned, feeling tiredness sweep through your body like a tidal wave. Stretching your limbs, your eyes follow the line leading to the door which was twisting open to reveal him. 

With a cap on his head, he shimmied out of his jacket in silence, droplets of rain meeting the floor beneath him.

“You’re home?” You call out, earning the man’s brown orbs to lift.

Jake. You knew exactly who was fronting. 

“Finished early,” Jake responds. “We’re in for some crazy weather,” He informs you.

You nod your head. “Which is the perfect nap weather, am I right?” You giggle, bookmarking your spot. Every time the rain came and a thunderstorm ensued, Marc and Steven would adoringly cuddle with you. Steven wanted to be as close as possible, while Marc enjoyed the sleep he got while wrapped in your arms. 

Jake deserved the same. 

He rarely gave himself over to a side of affection. Swearing to himself that his sole purpose was to protect Marc and Steven, he tried not to come around as much because he didn’t want you to suffer. He knew he could be bitter at times, but he had the best intentions. 

“Yeah,” Jake mumbles, fishing his belongings out of his pocket and placing them in the bowl. He walks through the room after removing his shoes, never once beelining for the spot beside you. 

“Jake?” You call his name.

“Yes, cariño?” Jake responds, the pet name making your face soften as your lips part. 

Another roar of thunder sounded outside, making you sigh. You really wanted him to let go for a bit– to know what it was like to relax. 

“Why don’t we take a nap together? We can be nap buddies.” You inform him just as he turns the corner. Jake’s eyes soften as he stares a hole through the side of the mattress that was currently vacant. 

“I’m fine, sweetness. Go on without me.” He deters. 

“Jake Lockley,” You clear your throat. “There is a persistent thunderstorm outside, and I want to cuddle. It’s the perfect nap weather! Come on, don’t be so grumpy.” You cross your arms. 

Jake glances to the side, certainly hearing as the rain pelted against the rooftop. 

Deep down, he wanted to. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to fall into your embrace, but he knew better. He couldn’t risk it. 

“Hermosa,” He says, but stops when he sees your bottom lip push forward. “–Don’t do that.” 

You shake your head. “I know you don’t want to–”

“That’s not it. I promise.” He stops. “Marc and Steven– they can. I’ll see if–”

“I don’t want Marc or Steven. No offense if they can hear me. I want you, Jake.” 

Jake was having a bitter internal fight. He could hear the voices of his alters chuckling and both persuading him.

Steven said you were like a physical form of honey. 

Marc said he wouldn’t regret it, it would be the best sleep of his life. 

Even the two boys wanted the best for their grumpy alter. 

Another ferocious roar of thunder seals the deal for Jake. He can visually see the room growing darker from the clouds overhead, and strikes of lightning slipping through the window panes. He takes a few cautious steps forward, watching as you eagerly move the sheets back.

Jake falls into them nervously and the moment he feels your hand caress his arm, he knew what Steven meant. You looked at him with such an adorable expression, your limbs tangling through his. He was stiff, and you were trying your hardest to coax him to relax.

“Come on, wrap your arms around me, Lockley. I know you can do it.” You tease him. 

Jake sighs and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

The moment his nose brushes yours, his eyes fall immediately to your lips. His mouth parts slightly and he feels a sudden rush consume him. Cautiously, Jake journeys his hand up the trail of your arm until he ghosts an index finger across your collarbone, soon delivering a feather touch to your jaw. He sees as your eyes dilate with pure adoration, pupils blowing wide as you gazed at him with a sense of longing. 

“Mi Vida,” He whispers. He cups your soft cheek, brushing his thumb underneath your eye. You melt into his touch and nuzzle your cheek against his palm. 

“Give into it, Jake… You’re safe here.” You reassure him. 

Jake closes his eyes, soon finding the softness of your lips. He brushes his fingers through your hair before he pulls you closer, the thunder rolling more repetitively now. 

He gives into the feeling, the way he feels safe. He lets it consume him, and soon, he’s fast asleep in your embrace. You’re cuddled to his chest as strong arms engulf you, crushing you to his body, but keeping you safe. 

The rain continued to pour and nothing could take this moment away from Jake.

Lana for Rolling Stone Magazine (2023)

The Goldfish Problem

The Two Faces of January (2014)

apology

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.

warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him

tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb),

word count: 1k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep. 

When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done. 

He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.

He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.

He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.

Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.

If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.

He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. 

He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth. 

He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.

He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.

“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”

And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit. 

Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices. 

He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.

He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold. 

You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.

You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.

You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.

You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge. 

He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised. 

You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration. 

You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.

"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”

—

please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @midgardian-witch @daemontqrg

Thoughts on Miguel having a breeding kink??

I feel like because of him being part spider he would have moments where he needs to breed you because it’s just part of his DNA, begging and asking you if he can cum inside you.

Needy Miguel who gets taken care off because he can’t control himself <333

I actually wrote a full fic based on something similar coming out later this week! but I just had a few HCs I felt I needed to share 👀👀

Miguel O'Hara Breeding kink HCs

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

summary: Breeding kink HCs + more :)

warnings: slight fdom, masturbation, breeding kink, marking, slight size kink. 18+ Minors DNI

wc: 1.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you started dating, he hid it pretty well. 

It's not a rut per se (violent flashback to my ABO phase) but his changed DNA makes him susceptible to being more animalistic. 

Before meeting you, it was less of an issue. His instincts would be more aggressive, manifesting mostly as Spiderman. 

A little more violent, proactive, and stony-faced on the streets. Sure, his libido was higher, but he could satisfy himself fine - opting for quickies in the shower. 

When he first meets you, and you grow closer he finds them getting worse. 

Hot flushes, possessiveness, and god, he's head over heels for your scent. 

The first time you sleep together, he's more forward than he usually would be. After a date, and you look stunning, he just can't think straight. 

After a couple of beers, Miguel floats down the street next to you. You've got your hand in his, click-clacking down the sidewalk in boots and those jeans that make your ass look good. He would know, of course, he's spent the past 5 minutes staring at them. 

He's ashamed to admit it, but he can't concentrate, the story you've been telling goes straight over his head. All he can see is your bubblegum pink gloss, and that perfume you've been wearing goes straight to his cock. You're beautiful , the sweetest thing he's ever had the pleasure of taking out, and all he can think of is what you'd feel like underneath him. 

He walks you up to your apartment door. When you stop outside, he can't help but put a hand on your waist and cage you against the door. 

"You look beautiful, baby." He breathes. 

Your whole face lights up, and it's all he can do to not kiss you right there. You look up. Miguel is tall, broad and handsome. His eyes are low, dangerously raking over your face and body. 

"Do you….. do you want to come in?"

~~~

You don't notice at first. You and Miguel have great sex: he's attentive, handsome, and he's got a pretty healthy appetite. 

He's into a lot of things you didn't think you'd like: marking you up with hickies and admiring you after. 

It's a possessiveness you're not used to, and it turns him on to no end. 

For that reason, he's very verbal; talking you through it just to see you blush. 

" Fuck, Miguel." 

He traces the fresh hickies he's made on your chest as you're splayed out below him. Obscenely, he slaps his dick against your clit, wet noises resounding through your bedroom. 

"Aren't you pretty, mi vida ?" He likes the way you writhe against him, hips flush against his and bucking up for some relief. He's been pawing at your pussy and whispering filthy shit in your ear; using his senses to chase every twitch and pulse of your body. 

"S'what happens when you walk around the house in those tiny shorts, baby. Hmm? Ass out, bending over like I can't see how wet you are. Like I can't taste it in the air." You whimper and he bucks into your hole, catching on your clit before stretching you out. He takes it slow, caging you in with his arms. 

He buries himself in you from the hilt. And he humps your clit, just the way you like it. He takes your hands and holds them above your head, picking up the pace. You writhe and strain, but he holds you still dragging his hips in and out of your sopping hole. Warm, wet, he moulds you to the shape of his cock: rhythmic pounding filling your ears. Your head lolls and he licks up your moans; angling his hips just right and deepening the kiss. 

" ¿Más duro? Harder, baby?" You whine in response, watching where you bodies meet intently. 

" Need your cum, Miguel ."

He cries out, his pace sloppier and less controlled. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer, impossibly deep. 

“Can I cum? Please, mami, can I cum?” 

Your answer comes in the form of a harsh tug at the nape of his neck, wrenching his lips onto yours. He stills, spurting hot, sticky cum; painting your walls white. 

~~~

Ohhh and he definitely has a size kink.

He likes to knead your body with his big hands, rubbing your thighs completely absentmindedly, after finishing. 

Aftercare is important to him, often plugging you up with his cock, or toys, or pushing his cum back in with thick fingers after spilling inside you. 

He likes multiple rounds, making sure his cum takes: he wants to see you plump and round and pretty with his baby. 

Irony is, he's not even sure if he wants kids, but the idea lights him on fire - fuels countless nights with you and nights when he strokes his cock to the thought of you. 

He becomes obsessive and a slight perv; taking your panties from the laundry to wrap around his nose, to rub against his cock when he touches himself. 

When Miguel gets like this, he is shameless, overstimulating himself to chase the perfect high.

You find him, back turned in a tight little tank top, on the bed. You heard him first, of course. The rhythmic slap and groaning that creeps into the apartment. You’ve had a long day at work, body sore and aching. The only thing you want to do is kick your heels off, and collapse into bed. And you would’ve - if not for the Miguel-shaped lump perched on the edge of your mattresses. 

You lean on the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “...didn’t know it was so soon, Miguel.”

He doesn’t even glance your way, only moaning and clutching at the sheets. You walk around for a better vantage point, to look him in the eye when he finally spills into his palm. And there, you see the deep red of a pair of panties you had put in the laundry a while back.

“Can’t help it, mi sol. You know I can’t help it.” 

"Fucking perv ." You hiss. He stops, hips jerking up. You sink down to your knees, dainty hands wrapping around his cock. All he can do is watch as you rub his length, squeezing his tip so precum pours out like a leaky shampoo bottle. 

"What were you thinking of that's got you so desperate to hump your hand?" You press a sticky kiss to his balls. 

He doesn't answer at first, too lost in the back and forth of your fingers, other hand pressing the gusset of your panties against his nose. Cruelly, you stop, and he cries out as you squeeze his tip."Asked you a question, Miguel."

"Sorry, mami. C-Can't help it. Only thinking with my cock," He whines, until you start up again. Your face is right next to his length and it is all he can do not to cum all over it. "Thinking about you. Fucking you hard. Deep. Filling you up with my cum again and again-" 

"You want to fuck a baby into me?" 

He nods desperately. "Wouldn't you look so pretty? Plump and round and waddling around with all my cum? Mine, always mine," You speed up, snaking a hand downwards to put some pressure at your clit. Ever perceptive, he notices and grabs, pulling you upwards. Like paper, he rips through the stockings, biting and soothing the bites with his tongue all over your thighs. 

"You want my tongue, first? My fingers?" 

You shake your head. "N-No, Miguel. Long day jus'.... need your cum. Fill me up. Breed me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. You help him get rid of his clothes, and strip down to your bra and panties. He looks hungry, eyes raking over the peaks and troughs if your body. You know what he's like when he gets like this; little self control, reckless abandon. He'd actually fuck a baby in you if it weren't for your birth control. So when you sink down on his length, he isn't tender or sweet, like he usually his. He's an animal , fucking up into your hole and kneading the globes of your ass apart for better purchase. 

"Give it to me, mi vida ." You clench around his thick dick, the burn and stretch of him just right. "Oh fuck, just like that. M'gonna cum, baby, straight into this cunt. Gonna fuck a baby into you, okay? Dámelo, dámelo…"

He stutters, hips flush against your clit and giving you the most delicious throb at your pussy. With a cry, he cums into, deep, as promised. He wraps his fingers in yours, holding you through your own impending orgasm. You fall through the sky, together, coming down from your high. He kisses your forehead with a lazy smile. 

"Not enough, mi vida. Gotta make sure it takes." 

_

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Oscar Isaac behind the scenes of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy