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winterzsurprise · 9 months
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Tags: Breeding kink, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, he bites you. SMUT, NOT BETA READ, big dick Miguel (as always).
Words: 1.1k
I am so sorry it took so long @gracielukey :''DD, a minor subject had the audacity to give us three projects back to back. I hope you like this one tho. I hope I did your idea justice somehow :''DD
now I shall succumb back into the darkness until college ends, adios and have a great day/night everyone!
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - darling
Ever since you told him of your decision to carry his kid, it’s like a switch has been flipped on Miguel. 
On the days where work doesn’t overwhelm his schedule, he researched day and night for ways of increasing your chances of conceiving, from dishes of ancient or foreign origin to books from different universes, he read them all.
Diet is out of the question, if he wants you to consume sugar or meat, you comply and if you don’t, he somehow makes you do it.
Not that you can really complain when he's got the skills on par with an immortal chef who has cultivated their skills for thousands of years. There's a reason why Hobi still comes to inner circle dinners despite how loud his displeasure is towards the organization and Miguel.
He says it’s because he’s too lazy to cook or he’s broke but you all knew it was a lie.
There’s no questioning the plenty of times Miguel took advantage of both of your enhanced endurance as superhumans, though it always ends up with you tapping out from overstimulation and muscle aches after being bent and spread wide open under him for hours upon hours.
Hell, even days if your schedule allows it.
You don’t even wanna start on the strong musky stench of sex and sweat fogging the room nor would you like to address the copious amount of cum pulsing out of you to be cleaned later on when he treats you to a warm bath at the end of every session.
A monster, that’s what your decision your sweet husband has turned into.
He once researched about your condition further and came home with a renowned determination to prove himself unique and If there's anything about that man, if he's passionate enough, he'd do anything to reach his goal.
Which brought you to your current situation.
"You're never going to leave this house until I make sure to fuck a baby into you."
You pant, pushing at his broad shoulders as pain intertwined with pleasure rockets through your trembling body, shaking legs numb on your chest after being folded and manhandled by him for the past hour, forced to take every deep thrusts that feels like he's puncturing your organs raw.
It's unbelievable how he manages to reach heights thought to be impossible. 
"Fuck… Miguel! I-I can't…"
"You can take it, I’ll make sure of it."
A particular, deep thrust got you screaming and eyes rolling back as he hit your spot once again. He didn't relent after that, making sure to angle his hips just right before every push. 
As his venom slowly fades away, pain starts to ricochet inside you. You were tempted to ask him for another bite but the complaining aches in your muscles had you biting back the urge. 
It’s been so long since you’ve started, you wanted to rest, even just for a split second.
He halts mid-thrust, hands reaching out for yours to intertwine them before pinning your arms above your head. You immediately meet his gaze as if magnetized by it, Miguel’s eyes are dilated to the nines, void of the crimson it's supposed to be and the buzz at the back of your head grows at the sight. 
When his hand wrapped around your neck, your body stiffened. Yet the fear tightening around your heart only got adrenaline thrumming beneath your skin.
Even when he's triggering your senses, you only found the threat exhilarating.
"You're not going anywhere, cariño." The thrust that followed only solidified it. "Not until I fuck a baby into you."
The cold marble countertop dug into your back as he feverishly ruts his hips. You grabbed for life onto his hands while pleasure and pain tightly intertwined in your guts. The sloppy sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, burning your cheeks with embarrassment as you’re reminded once more of how much he’s filled you up.
Tears blurred your eyes as his pace only grew more rabid with every passing moment, head going light from the overwhelming mix of ecstasy and ache.
As if it wasn't enough, he pressed onto your abdomen and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while he groaned, eyes never straying away from your stomach.
"Just imagining your stomach growing plumper and fuller with our child… Fuck."
A shiver wrecked your spine.
Your nerves fizzled with the constant onslaught of dopamine, electric currents bounced from the top of your head and to the tip of your toes. It was too much, yet you yearned for one more, hips meeting his thrusts.
"Miguel, please!" You sobbed.
"Give it to me, hermosa. I want it all."
A sudden tightness in your stomach abruptly unfurls and you came for the nth time tonight, convulsing and pathetically writhing under him.
Your body immediately complained from the continuous stimulation it received, seeing the difficulty in your crumpled expression as your eyes mist with tears, Miguel slows to a halt, cupping your cheeks and you lean into his balmy yet warm hands.
"I'm nearly there ok? Can you do it, hermosa?"
His voice felt far, as if you were hearing it from the far end of an unending hallway but you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck for support. As he slowly gains his pace, your back arches and you find solace in the crook of his neck, sobbing and whining into his skin as he pushes into you.
Seeing the difficulty scrunching up your face, Miguel didn't hesitate to bite into your shoulder, hoping to alleviate the pain as he worked up to his climax and you shuddered.
His venom made quick work and numbed the aches as well as the ecstasy. When you came for the last time that night, you didn't get the usual rush of euphoria in your veins, instead, it rocked through you like a shiver and a couple of sharp flinches in your legs.
You vaguely felt the sensation of his arousal bursting inside you before he collapsed into your arms, finally succumbing to the temptation of rest after so long and you internally celebrated.
"You’re not allowed to touch me for a day, you monster."
He laughed, it was light and despite the fog in your senses, it still sounded like jingles to your ears. 
"I'll make you your favorite later, is that enough?"
Confused by his word choice, you turned to the windows in front of the sink to see the signs of the rising sun peeking through the sheer curtains and you groaned.
It’s already somewhere around five to six AM in the morning.
You guys missed dinner because of his newfound determination. The dish you prepared after marinating the chicken for the whole day, now lay waste on the floor after being accidentally nudged at some point.
"You're going to clean that up."
"Not if we do it again.”
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winterzsurprise · 10 months
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False God || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f! reader
Summary: Once again, you end up pinned underneath Miguel whose annoying smile flourished the butterflies in your stomach.
Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, allusions to orgasm denials, gym sex, friends with benefit, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), one sided love, cunnilingus, angst(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation.
Words: 1.7k
I am so sleepy but I have school. Managed to sneak this request during this hell week, I'm gonna try to make the other as soon as I can. Thank you for all your support, nearly 1k followers omg and thank you @path0logicalpeoplepleaser for your request and support again o/
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - darling
When you were first handed the invitation to join the spiderhub in the form of a heavy watch with a technology leagues far from your world, you were promised plenty of things. Knowledge, experience, adventure and connections with the other spider-people there are in the vast multiverse.
Being a free spirited soul, finally escaping the tiring cycle of taking down the same old villains terrorizing your city, you were ecstatic. Sure, you might face them once more just a different version but it was an option you’d take in a heartbeat. The challenge of different time periods and technology advancement gave you anticipation thrumming once more under your skin.
If it wasn’t for this, you would’ve quit being a spider.
But out of all the things you’ve expected when you entered the society, becoming enamored with someone so nonchalant and stoic as Miguel O’hara, the head of the operation, was not on your bingo card.
Him being your boss should’ve been the first warning but in the heat of passion and sweat and being pinned under him after growing frustrated from your lack of progress in battle training, you succumbed to the pressure of tension fogging your senses. 
You blame him for everything.
He shouldn’t have reciprocated your kiss, shouldn’t have held you so sweetly despite his callous actions that day. If he hadn’t, maybe you wouldn’t be left in a situationship where you’re his sole outlet of frustration when work becomes unbearable and the pressure of being the leader of an organization is as huge as the spider hub gets to him.
If he doesn’t stir you so well with pleasure then you wouldn’t have been as attached to him as you are right now.
Pleasure struck your spine when his tongue found your clit, rolling it in tight figures of eight. You could feel his gaze burn through your skull while you withered and arched as he coaxed another orgasm out of you.
You can’t remember how you ended up beneath him once more, pinned and eaten out like there’s no tomorrow. You don’t even wanna bother counting how long it has been but with the way your legs trembled violently on his shoulders with every swirl of his tongue along with the pinpricks of pain shooting through you, it must’ve been an hour of constant decline already.
“Fu-fuck, please just fucking give it to me.”
One moment, he was teaching you the basics of some martial arts you couldn't bother to remember, the next, your legs are open and resting on his broad shoulders, bare as the day you were born out in the training quarters he ordered Layla to close down.
Why he initiated it? You've yet to know.
Miguel halts, tearing you away from your withheld orgasm to your absolute despair. But before a frustrated groan could leave your throat, a firm slap on your thigh stops it.
"So impatient, hermosa. It wouldn't hurt to ask me politely for it."
You’ve heard him call you beautiful plenty of times the whole time and it always awakens the butterflies in your stomach. He’s annoying and you like it.
He infuriates you to the brim with that smirk of his, yet you couldn't find it in you to leave him and his promises of ecstasy. His mouth is a drug intoxicating your blood and poisoning you fully, as does his body and touch. As if hypnotized, you couldn’t help but cling to him like he’s the salvation in middle of the chaos.
"Miguel, please? I'll be good, I promise!"
He said nothing, eyeing you with a blank stare before running his lithe fingers between your folds before finding your clit once more, sending delicious jolts down your spine.
Your muscles burned with exhaustion and aches from lack of use as it hitched onto his shoulders and his arms winded around your thighs, stapling you onto place with no other option but to absorb every thrill of ecstasy his fingers gave you.
"Can't really deny such a sweet request, can I?"
Miguel spreads your folds open before tracing down, intentionally dodging your throbbing clit and towards your leaking entrance and dragging his fingers up above your bundle of nerves. 
The ache in your core grew with every tantalizing second spent under his torture, seeing the challenging shimmer in his dilated pupils, you had the mind to reach down to finish the job yourself but before you could, his large hand swiftly took yours and pinned them beside your waist.
You groaned, frustrated from his teasing and he chuckled. Traitorously, your heart skipped a beat, cheeks turning a shade deeper.
You couldn't believe that even in the midst of the frustration and lust, you found yourself growing enamored by him.
Each ghosting nudge of his fingers against your clit only urges more of your arousal to flood out of you. The ringed muscles pathetically contracting around nothing. You could only mew as he drenched his digits in your wetness, desire burned your chest and stirred your nerve endings awake.
Thick, filmy ropes of arousal clung to his digits as he pulled away. The strings pulled thin as he spread his digits and your body grew hot, flustered by the sight.
“Look at how wet you are for me, hermosa.” 
The glee in his voice was unmistakable, this bastard. His tongue darts out to twirl over his digits before wrapping his plump lips around them. Your breath hitches as you watch him lick your arousal away from his hand so erotically. His dilated eyes never straying as it stares back at you, sending a pleasurable jolt down your back.
Without warning, he licks a broad line through your folds, and your back arches. From the hood of your clit, all the way down to your clenching hole before going back up and you gasped as ecstasy crawled down to your toes. 
A groan rumbled his chest as he mouths at your folds like he was making out with it, tongue lithe as it flickered. Every lick reawakens the withered orgasm waiting at the tip of your tongue.
Your hands shoot to his head, fingers threading through his luscious locks before pulling him closer as your hips twitched closer to his tongue.
His gaze flicked up to you through his eyelashes, pupils dilated to the nines, barely leaving any red with how much lust and hunger has clouded it. Seeing your effect on him knocks your breath out of your lungs while a miniscule part of you rejoices with hope.
A hope that there’s something more outside of this stupid encounter of yours.
"Fuck..! Please, I need more." 
Prickles of heat spike over your skin, blood boiling as he traced the trembling rim in languid strokes.
Pressure builds up in your abdomen as you grow dizzy from the stimulation, the declined orgasms from earlier now accumulating into the mass now weighing on your stomach.
It feels like too much yet your greed convinced you that it's not enough.
“Fuck… more please.” You begged weakly, eyes fluttering as his tongue lashed on your bundle of nerves, lulling your hips to rock onto his face. 
Miguel relents, finally growing generous. His large arms wrapped around your thighs before pulling you flush to him as his tongue grew relentlessly on your clit and your mind blanks.
His fingers breached your walls without any restriction, practically gliding in. He wasted no time in building up a savage pace, plunging three inside of you with no regard for your comfort. Digits repeatedly poking your spot, curling just right, feeding into the mass growing and weighting your core.
“Miguel, just fucking do it, you bastard! Just fuck me already!”
His reaction is immediate. In a flicker, he had you on your stomach with your head pinned to the mat and ass up.
"So fucking annoying."
The loss of build up never faded as his digits were replaced by his dick, burying himself to the hilt but instead, it inflated into unreachable heights in one single push and you cry.
It didn’t take long before your orgasm boiled your entire body from the inside, lighting every nerve endings alight as blood rushed to your head in white flashes while your legs went numb as it trembled. The onslaught of pleasure attacking your insides felt too much yet felt so good.
The tug of war waging inside you drove you to insanity, the pain of overstimulation pinpricks your muscles yet the absolute heaven that is your orgasm had you floating. You were pulling him in as much as your body screams at you to push him away.
"Miguel… fuck—I can’t!"
"Another one, cariño. I know you can give it to me."
The new nickname however, didn't escape your notice. Honey, he calls you and the word echoed in your skull. The shimmering hope from earlier now fills your heart full as the delusion of something not quite there urged you closer into another orgasm.
The thrill of a new name of endearment unlocked got you giddy, overlapping the creeping negativity at the back of your head.
Miguel whispered incoherent words under his shaky breath as he shuddered and grew desperate with his thrust, no doubt near his own end. His hands grabbed onto you for salvation, almost worshiping as he dug his nails into your feverish flesh, urging your hips to meet his thrusts.
“Come with me, cariño.”
And with that, you fall once more. Legs convulsing around his torso as you cried out with your release.
Silence fell between you both, save for the loud gasps for breaths you took. His arms around your shoulders grounded you from the nirvana still resonating deep within your bones. It’s the small things that got butterflies running amok, Jess has frowned upon your easily swayed heart and shook her head once she heard about your situationship with Miguel, just two weeks after your first sexual encounter.
“That man is far from becoming the boyfriend you wanted. Miguel is all work and words, barely any feelings. Do me a solid and run off with someone better, I heard Shakespeare right there is searching for a nice partner.”
Sensing the usual air of nonchalance fogging around him like a second skin, you knew that it's true. You could've hung out with someone more gentle like Shakespearean Spider-Man, be treated like a princess with how hopelessly romantic he is but when Miguel looks so vulnerable with his eyes closed temporarily on your chest, you couldn't help but curl further into him.
It's annoying how you couldn't find it in yourself to leave him yet he'd dispose of you without a second thought.
You could almost see Layla materializing in front of you with a pitiful look, patting you with her holographic hand, knowing that after all of this, Miguel will continue his cold behavior once he's out of the haze of his orgasm.
You’re not dumb to know his words actually meant anything yet you couldn’t help but be deluded in your own world where the man of your dreams isn’t emotionally constipated and withdrawn.
As you watch him pull away from your arms and fix himself up, you sighed internally.
Maybe one day, just not today or tomorrow.
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winterzsurprise · 10 months
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Peaches and Cream || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader
Summary: There's a stark difference with how your husband and Miguel treats you, starting with how rough the latter can be.
Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, pussy slapping (once), fluff (?), jealous!Miguel, Miguel has a big dick.
Words: 2.2k
I got distracted from writing domestic Miguel after he replaced the dad!Miguel after he got shot. This is shit, my apologies I'll do better and add more flavor next time, promiseee. Title is from the song I was listening to the whole time by Noah Davis.
I don't know how to navigate tumblr as a second blog but thank you to all your comments, reblogs and likes, it really does motivate me to write more and better stuff. Also thank you to two blogs for putting me in their recommendations! I made it guys :''DD!!
cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || hermosa - beautiful || pobrecita - poor thing (correct me on this one please) || calladita - quietly (thank you sm @eminenceplant for this)
There's a stark difference between your husband and the man hovering above you like a predator about to pounce.
Your husband's hands were soft and loving as it caressed and wandered your body as he peppered kisses down from your neck and to your inner thigh. All of his gestures are a sweet concoction of loving and adoration.
Whilst Miguel's touch was desperate, territorial as he clawed down your flesh, human nails digging into your thighs and breasts as he left a trail of purple bruises around your neck, collarbones before stopping to nip at your hip bone. Everything he does is animalistic, deprived and hungry as if he hasn't eaten for centuries.
His red eyes were clouded with dark lust, glinted with something carnal, even feral, in the dark that got your spine tingling with anticipation.
To see and feel his perpetual desperation for your skin, your scent and desire for your touch had your pride piercing the heavens. To be wanted as he does like you're the air he breathes is dizzying and you can't help but want more.
It's exhilarating, addicting even.
It hasn't been long since you found yourself in love with another version of your husband, yet you grew to crave more of him as seconds ticked by.
Miguel's muscled arms curled around your thighs, forcing them open before pulling you flush to his face with a surprising strength. A pleased sigh escaped your lips as his hot breath fans over your pubic bone, hand falling to knot onto his hair and tugging him closer.
You soon realised why he paused on top of your mound as he inhaled you in, immediately your cheeks flamed.
"You smell heavenly, baby. So wet for me as well, makes me want to taste you."
You bite your bottom lip, nodding urgently as you tug him closer and he clicks his tongue.
"Hermosa, I need your words."
"Please darling? I'll be nice I swear, eat me out please."
Miguel doesn't need to be told twice, dipping his tongue onto your dripping folds. Your back arched at the sensation, after months of no intimacy following the change in your husband, your arousal lit your nerve endings ablaze.
His left hand that was digging into your flesh then reached to splay itself onto your abdomen, pinning you to the mattress as his tongue flicked your clit with a firm pace.
With every flicker of his appendage, hot pleasure rockets into your stomach, body growing feverish as pressure builds up inside your abdomen.
As if sensing your orgasm from the hitch of your breath alone, his right arm unwinds from your thigh to trail down to your fluttering entrance, caressing the rim so sweetly it hurts.
"Miguel please."
He ignored you, focusing on suckling on your clit with a reawakened fervor. You tugged onto his hair, hard enough for it to hurt, for him to listen to your pleas yet he only grunted, sending ample vibrations to quake your bones.
"Beg for it nicely, cariño. I want to hear you beg for me."
"I want your fingers in me, please! Miguel, baby, I want to feel you in me, please."
He groaned, it rumbled in his chest before sending shockwaves down your spine. Then he shoved two of his thick fingers inside you and you jerked. The burn of being breached got your blood buzzing as it mixed with the pleasure his tongue gave you.
If your husband was gentle with his fingers, inserting them one by one with utmost care, Miguel is everything he stands against. 
His fingers immediately found a punishing pace, plunging in and out of you whilst curling up to touch the spongy spot in your walls. Encouraged by his digits, his tongue grew frantic as it sucked and flicked your clit rapidly, driving you closer and closer to your precipice. You opened your mouth to scream but it was caught short by his other hand clamping over your lips.
"Calladita, you're going to wake Gabriella up."
Miguel's gaze burns your face as he brings you pleasure atop pleasure with every thrust and lick .
To see your eyes roll back and your chest rise as you arch, the greedy monster claws at his neck, wanting for more reactions.
Bet her husband had also made her this way...
An ugly head reared out of the back of his brain, whispering taunts into his ears and reaching around with its rotten hands to blind his eyes. 
With the bitter realization, his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a punishing pace, the heel of his palm slamming into your engorged clit as a pathetic wet squelch echoed in the room. The sudden change in pace got you writhing, your mewls muffled by his hand.
"So fucking wet for me, hermosa. Tell me, do you get this turned on for your husband?"
You didn't respond and that seemed to anger him, pulling his fingers out and cutting off the intoxicating thrum of heat in your veins and you whined, displeased. Hearing this, he brought his hand down for a firm slap onto your clit.
"Fuck…"
"You don't get to react, mi amor."
He sat up, pushing down his sweatpants along with his boxers and his erection stands, slapping against his stomach. Your eyes immediately caught the dribbles of pre-cum pulsing out of his tip and your tongue grew heavy, hand reaching out to grab onto his dick.
Miguel, in more ways than one, is bigger than your husband. Your hand barely closed up around his length and dread loomed over you. He's about to ruin you, mind and body, with this dick.
Fuck, will this fit in me?
"You're so big."
He chuckled darkly, fingers pinching your chin. "No, your husband's just lacking, hermosa."
You should've been angered by his comment but you couldn't find it in yourself to reprimand him for it. Instead, you find yourself flustered at his confidence.
"On your knees."
As if hypnotized, you followed despite the disappointment rumbling inside you for not being able to pleasure him. 
You pushed yourself off of the mattress to turn but he was quicker, ever the impatient man that he is, his large hand splayed between your shoulder blades and pinned you to the cushion, forcing you to present your ass up at him.
"Darling? I really don't think it'll fit."
A resonating slap echoed in the room as he swatted your ass and you whimpered, body lurching away before strong arms dragged you back under him.
"You can and you will. I will make sure of it."
His cockhead poked your entrance and a thrill slithered down your spine. You looked down to your pussy, watching with rapt attention as he dragged himself up and down your folds.
The sight of his disheveled self with his head thrown back and mouth agape to let out groans made you shiver. How could someone look so attractive?
Miguel soon pushed in, the head of his dick immediately lodging into your small hole, stretching you wide as he slowly inserted more of his inches. The sting it brought got you gasping and grabbing tight onto the sheets, already feeling full to the brim with barely half of him in.
"Fuck, you're so tight for me. Pobrecita… your husband must've never fucked you wide open before."
Just when you thought it was done, he continued to push more of him. Your head grows light, pleasure shocking all your nerve endings awake from your legs and to the tip of your toes.
He didn't even let you rest, already pulling back and you almost shot up to grab him, scared he'd leave you hanging but Miguel left his cockhead in before thrusting all of his inches back in with one fluid motion and your mouth fell agape. 
"Fuck…! Miguel please!"
"What a greedy girl. Don't worry baby, I'll treat you well tonight."
If his slow thrust already had your mind fuzzy from the pain of the stretch and pleasure, his callous and frenzied pace got you praying as he released shockwaves after shockwaves of bliss to shatter your bones and down to your trembling legs.
You barely had the mind to bite onto the sheet to muffle your cry as he drove manically behind you. 
Seeing this, Miguel grew displeased. Despite knowing the reason for your actions, he wanted to hear how well he fucks you. It was childish trying to outdo someone he'd never encounter again but his pride is bruised.
That fucker got the chance to devour and have you pliant and panting under him for decades while he withered back in his lab trying to get rid of his unwanted addiction.
The bastard has ingrained himself into your body for years and he can't have that.
There should only be one man you should think about at night and be reminded of when you sit to feel the soreness rendering your lower body boneless.
"I'm gonna install noise suppressors in our room tomorrow then you'd be free to scream my name whenever you like, mi vida. You know how I love it when you cry for me."
You didn't say anything but instead nodded frantically. Fire licked every inch of your skin as the familiar tightness in your abdomen appeared, lightning shooting up your spine with every savage thrusts.
There was nothing else you could think of, focused on reaching your deserved nirvana and desperately shaking your hips to meet his thrust. Seeing how fucked and blissed out you were, Miguel groaned before swatting the globes of your ass, pulling a mewl from you.
"Look at you, so cock drunk for me. So beautiful… It makes me wanna tease you a little."
Feeling your orgasm being torn away as he slows, you whine and reach back to grab his hips, forcing him to piston in and out of you with a mewl. Miguel watched you with heavy lidded eyes, he has never seen such a sinful yet delicious sight until now.
If there was a scene he could ingrain into the back of his eyelids, this would be it. 
You, so desperate for a release and trying to chase it when he refused to. Eyes glazed with tears of frustration as you gave up trying to control his hips and bucked your hips like a madwoman into his dick.
There's no such thing as guilt when he got to witness you in such a vulnerable state, only gratefulness.
"Mi cielo, please! Move, I want to come so bad please…!"
He had a different plan for the evening but if you begged so sweetly like that, there's nothing he wouldn't give you.
A house, a new ring with the biggest gemstone you love, the world, the universe or something as simple as a climax becomes acquirable if you want them so badly, he'd give it all to you.
"Anything for you, cariño."
Despite the callousness of his touch driven with wanderlust and desperation to the point of passionate worshiping, Miguel differs from your husband by being love-starved and his brimming confidence in pleasing you a hundred ways before tomorrow without breaking a sweat.
A welcomed and fresh change nonetheless, the difference only led you to fall deeper in love with him.
He drove his dick back into you with a fresh yet ravenous pace, pulling back till his cockhead remains before plunging all of himself in. Miguel's nails dug deep into your flesh enough to make you fear for a permanent dent in them.
Your skin flared as the coil in your stomach reawakened, tightening further and further with every thrust. The warmth is maddening yet deliciously addictive as it lashes out, wrapping around your swelling heart.
"Let me come please? I want it please…! Ah!"
He leant down while his hand reached down to roll your clit in tight eights, decreasing his pace yet hitting deeper as he swept the hair behind your ear before tugging it hard.
"Give it to me, mi vida. I want it all, come around me."
With his proximity and whispered command, there was nothing else you could do but burst. 
Ecstasy easily drowns you as it floods your senses, white hot pleasure exploding behind your eyelids as you screamed into the sheets. Your orgasm rippled through you, shimmying under your skin and turning your limbs useless as they grew light.
There's nothing else you could call what you were feeling except 'heavenly'.
With the constant pulse of your velvet walls clamping down on him, Miguel soon followed with a deep resonating groan to his annoyance, painting your insides white with his liquid arousal.
It was a wonder he lasted this long after having only his hands to entertain him for years in the laboratory and spider hub. Nonetheless, he has his life to spend with you, years where he could discover and evoke your deepest desires. 
Placing gentle kisses on your shoulders, he grinned. "Te amo cariño."
"I love you more…" You mumbled back, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. You barely picked up his clicking tongue before he spoke up, sounding determined as if it was set in stone.
"No sleeping, mi vida. We're not done yet, I have months to make up, no?"
6K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 11 months
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Playing with fire || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader
Summary: After risking your life to save one spider, Miguel had enough and decided it was time to discipline you.
Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, face slapping (M&F), brat! reader, spanking, very brief blowjob, gagging, Miguel has a big dick, overstimulation (?), multiple orgasm denial, rough sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, pain kink, some aftercare at the end.
Words: 2.8k
idk how Tumblr works as well but user @/octobersoot said something about reader being a brat to Miguel and I had to revamp this one idea lol. I hope this counts as reader being a brat.
Spanish speakers, do correct me with the last one in the translation, thank you in advance :DD
cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || coño - fuck (literally means cunt but google said it can also be used as like 'fuck!' or 'shit!' in English)
"NO DON'T!"
When you ripped yourself from Miguel's hands and jumped down into the black hole to catch the Spider-Man that fell into it, you had two thoughts.
If you die, Miguel would pull you from hell to kill you.
If you lived, Miguel would make sure you'd regret it.
As the void approaches, you latched onto one falling debris and leaped out to get closer to the guy whose wrist’s flicked to release some webs for you to catch on but you ignored it. You’ve seen how using webs to catch someone goes and it didn’t end well, you’re not about to make the same mistakes.
Reaching out to grab the falling Peter's hand, you webbed to the nearest stable item you could before feeling Miguel’s webs wrap around your waist. The momentary fear and adrenaline from saving the spider drained out of your skin almost immediately. Hearing the angry man barking orders above you, you prayed early for your soul.
You're not religious but you'd certainly need a diety's kind soul to take pity on you today once you’re left behind doors with Miguel alone.
"AY COÑO, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU GET YOUR HEAD HIT SOMEWHERE??"
You grunted, tugging President Spidey with you. "Just pull us up!"
"I should let go of you for being so stupid!"
"Then fucking do it coward!"
Despite his comments, it took one tug from Miguel to pull you and President Spider-Man to a safe spot on a building they were resting at to watch the consequences of altering canon events. The anger radiating out of his body would be enough to trigger your senses, his glare searing a hole through your skull.
Looking up sheepishly, Miguel’s face was contorted into subdued rage. The absolute fury lashing in his dark red eyes made your heart drop to the soles of your feet.
You're absolutely fucked and you don't know if you regret it or not.
On one hand, he's going to murder you and split your body into pieces to feed the kraken version of Doc Ock. But on the other, he's unfathomably hot when he's glaring through your flesh and soul.
How could he be so alluring while plotting your murder? You have no idea.
"We're going to have a talk." His darkened voice made your spine tingle, you nod and turned to run towards Hobi but the firm hand on your shoulder halts you. "Don't move, I'll break your knees if you do."
President Spider-Man shrunk beside you, more intimidated by the threat directed towards you than you do. 
"Is that a threat, boss?"
"No cariño, it's a promise."
Leaping down to greet the quarantine squad, he left the two of you on the rooftops. President Spidey turned to you, worried to the nines for your soul.
"D-do you need to universe hop? You're free to hide at mine, since it's my fault you're gonna get grinded later."
You laughed, slapping him in the back to which he wheezed at. "Don't worry, he won't bite."
•=•=•=•=•=•
Despite your shit attempt of comforting President Spider-Man, he didn't leave your side, ready to jump in front of you if Miguel happens to snap in the middle of the journey back to HQ. Hobie however, attempted to pry him off of your side with an amused smile.
“Have you realized how fucked you are?”
President Spidey hushed him, to which the man raised an eyebrow at. “Don’t say that.”
When you all entered the office, Miguel halted and you all followed. There’s a buzz in the back of your head and a glance at the nervous wreck beside you tells you that he felt it too.
"Everyone except my wife, leave."
President Spidey almost spoke up, probably to request to stay next to you until Hobie swung his arms around his neck and pulled him out, but not before saluting to you.
"I'll burn the ministry in your honor."
His voice echoed in the dimly lit room until the hatch closed shut, isolating you and your husband from the outside world until further notice. You watch as a yellow holographic lady materializes over his shoulder, Layla whose gaze immediately met yours.
"Layla, make sure no one tries to enter my office until I say so. Go hang out with Spiderbyte in the meantime."
"Don't break the poor girl, she didn't do—"
"I don't want to hear it. Leave." 
Sparing you a pitiful smile, she dispersed into the air. With no hatch to escape to, nor any obstacles to run behind, you were left standing a few footsteps away from the man.
"I thought we had an agreement to keep ourselves safe during missions?"
There was a simmering anger hidden behind his words, tone almost dark and bitten back.
"I was safe, you just need to place a little faith on—"
"The last time I did that, the people I cared about died." 
You wanted to defend yourself, bring up being safer since you're Spider-Man and all that but you knew it wouldn't end well. Seeing the seething anger radiating off of him, that's the best course of action.
Hanging your head down with a sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry."
"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, cariño. I think I have to drill it into you."
Your brain clicks, realizing what he said and you frown. "Fucking is not gonna help us right now, Miguel!"
"Well I don't see you complaining every time it happens, do I? If I recall, you've begged, cried and screamed my name again and—"
Your hand moved faster than your brain as you slapped the man. You gasped, bringing both hands up to your mouth as you watched him go silent.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"
"No no no, I see how it is."
You waited for his next move with bated breath, goosebumps prickling your skin. You debated on taking a few steps back but before you could, he surged with his hands grabbing your neck and slamming you on the wall, stealing the breath from your lungs and you gasped.
“You know the words, mi vida?”
You curled your eyebrows at him. Does he mean your safeword?
“F-fucking get your hands off of me, let's talk."
The light slap on your cheeks shocked you, mouth falling ajar at the action. You couldn’t deny the fact that the sting left by his hand has stirred your desires awake, nor can you even dare to mention how breathless—figuratively and literally—he left you. 
Miguel observed your eyes, cautious of any hurt flashing in them before putting more pressure on the side of your throat and you greedily inhaled more air as much as you could. Dark spots crawl from the side of your vision and fear starts to claw at your heart.
Yet the uncomfortable slickness and ache between your thighs says otherwise.
"Your words."
"I'm not using them!"
The grin curling his lips sent shivers down your spine, doom looming over you.
"Good."
Before you could say anything, he released your throat and you fell to the floor, inhaling greedily for air as your vision slowly repairs itself.
"I've been wanting to tame that mouth of yours since earlier."
You coughed, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "R-really? I thought you liked that about me?"
"Oh really? I thought I said I only liked your mouth, not your voice."
Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to look up before pushing two of his fingers through your lips, pressing down on your tongue as his suit disintegrated to reveal his formal clothes. Miguel's hand threads through your hair, caressing the back of your head before tugging. With a wicked grin, he continued.
"Strip."
It was a command, not a request. The low timbre of his voice sends jolts of pleasure down your spine. Following his heeds like a hypnotized woman, you made quick work of your clothes, tossing them to the side and unshackling your web shooters.
Reaching up, you unbuttoned his pants and took care of his fly before shrugging the clothing down his thighs. The tent in his boxers sent shivers down your spine, a promise of pleasure behind its confines.
Pulling it down, his girth revealed itself to you and your tongue grew heavy inside your mouth, a few dribbles of pre-cum on the tip and the prominent veins giving it an illusion of being larger than it already is. Miguel pulled you closer making you kiss the base of his dick.
"What a sinful face you have, cariño. I'm starting to like this more."
He guided his length to your mouth, smearing his clear arousal on the plush of your lips making you open up only for his hand to come down harshly against your cheeks once more.
The sharp sting immediately melts into hot arousal pooling down your thighs.
"Do you really think you deserve me, mi cielo? After speaking back to me earlier?"
"I want it, please?"
He scoffed. "'Want' it? Do you think you own me? That's funny."
His webs embraced you and he pulled, making you stumble to the floor with a yelp. Being bound tightly by Miguel who towered over you with sadistic glee and glowering eyes, made you feel small all over.
Yet the sick bastard at the back of your head smiled an ugly grin.
"How about we try it again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll give you what you wanted."
He pulled you back to a standing position, his hand immediately locking onto your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his dilated and darkened red pairs that seemed to tempt you to drown yourself in them.
Your eyes fell to the hand pumping himself leisurely and groaned.
"Please? Darling, I want to taste you."
"Do you deserve it?"
"I'm more of an action type of person than a talker."
He said nothing, watching as you fall back to your knees before tapping the head of his cock onto your lips. Once your mouth opened, his hand on your jaw crawled to the back of your head and pushed.
The sudden and wide intrusion down your throat got you gagging yet Miguel only found pleasure from the throb of your muscles constricting around him. 
You remind yourself to breathe through your nose, trying to force yourself through it but your throat complains and you knew you couldn't take it. Slapping his thighs thrice, he pulled away immediately, clicking his tongue while you coughed and gasped for air.
"Bold talk. I knew your mouth wasn't fit for speaking at all. Such a shame it can't do anything at all."
Still focused on the throb in your throat, you weren't able to react fast enough when he pulled you flush to his chest by the web and carried you to the platform where a cushioned chair awaits.
He sat and you ended up on his lap with both his calloused hands grounding you by the shoulder and hips. Miguel's burning eyes roamed the expanse of your chest, one hand rising to trace his gaze with his fingertips and pinching the stiffened peaks of your mounds making you moan from the slightest touch.
"Maybe your pussy could do a better job."
The hand soon crept around your neck with his eyes where it pressed against its sides once more.
It was maddening how you could feel his hardness pressing against your folds yet unable to do much about it. The firm hand on your hips prevents you from grinding down on him. He does reach down to your clit, palming your engorged bead but before you could revel in it, he pulled away.
"Did those slaps get you this wet baby? Didn't know you're such a slut."
Your cheeks lights up and you slapped his cheek lightly for the name he called you, only for Miguel to return it harder.
"You don't get to slap me, slut. The only thing you're for is this pussy."
A wet slap resonated in the room and you cried, thighs closing from the impact on your heat, embarrassment burning your body before shame crawled up your throat as you realized his demeaning behavior seems to only goad you further.
He didn't give you a chance to prepare when he pushed his cockhead into you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the burn of the stretch stung your veins and stirred your desire further. Every inch inserted tore you apart, the sensation a mixture of heaven and hell, it was delicious as it was painful.
Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel reached down to roll your clit in slow circles, whispering affirmations into your ears. The moment he sensed your accommodation to his girth did he pull out till his head remained, angling his hips before inserting himself back again to hit the spongy spot on your walls.
You whimpered and moaned in his shoulder as his pace grew with a manic fervor. The pain slowly transitioned into pleasure with the frequency of his thrusts, your nails dug into his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, narrowly missing your uterus as he pistoned into you.
Mind whirled in ecstasy and lightness brought by his fingers on your throat, you only grabbed onto him for dear life as he quickly dragged you to the edge. 
Feeling the familiar pulse and tightness of your walls around him, Miguel suddenly pulled away and you cried.
"Why did you pull away?"
His hand came down with a loud crack! as it collides with the globes of your ass in quick successions. Your hips twists as you clenched desperately on air. Desire clawed at your throat and you whimpered, body already missing the rush of pleasure he brought with every push.
“Do you think you deserve it, mi vida?”
You nodded and he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think you do.”
Despite his words, Miguel entered you once more, picking up his previous pace. Your previous orgasms arose, walls clamping down onto him, desperate for the release you craved so deeply. There's a wet sound echoing in the room along and you flushed deeper yet far too desperate for euphoria to care. 
His deft fingers found your clit with experienced accuracy and slapped it with every thrust of his hips. 
You shouldn't be enjoying every bit of pain yet here you were, moaning and wriggling your hips for more stimulation like a mad woman.
"My cariño's such a slut taking all of this pain like the whore she is. Bet you liked that spider guy huh? Jumping off like a fool to save a dick, so pathetic."
Miguel pulled away and you cried, the itch of dissatisfaction searing through your body. You clawed at his back as if the pain could threaten him, in response, Miguel swats your rear once more.
"A little slut like you doesn't deserve to cum. After that stupid stunt earlier? Do you think you deserve to come?"
"Yes yes yes."
He slapped you across the face but you could care less, whining.
"Stop being a dick and give it to me, please!"
Clicking his tongue. "Such a desperate slut, I'd slap you for that, but I'm feeling a bit generous."
It was his fingers that attacked you this time, deftly rubbing your clit. Your hips stuttered up to follow his hand.
“Might as well count how many, right?”
Your mind grows lighter as time bleeds against each other. His objections to your orgasms grew frequent as the intervals between your nirvana grew shorter, you have lost count of how many he has denied you and has long stopped doing so, body now laid motionlessly on top of his as you sobbed onto his shoulder from frustration.
Miguel didn't care, in fact, he reveled in your misery every time. 
His hips pistoned faster, tip almost always nudging your spot with every thrust as his lips caught yours in a weakened dance, there was a shift in the air and you knew he had finally relented on dragging it out. 
"Come for me, darling. I want it all, give it to me."
The pleasure that bursted in your veins wasn't like the others from before. The ecstasy woke every nerve ending in your body alight, limbs growing weightless from the shock of pleasure from your orgasm as electric shocks reverberated from your core and to the tip of your fingers.
Your thighs convulsed violently and you screamed, arousal squirting to drench his stomach. Miguel's arms curled around you protectively as you shivered, whispering hushed affirmations in your ears while the impact of a long-denied orgasm shattered you.
"You did so well for me, mi vida. I’m here, no more of that."
Miguel soaked in your every moans and sobs as he murmured something you couldn't catch, mind far too foggy to process.
You didn't even realize that he didn't came, focused solely on comforting you through your high.
His racing heartbeat matched the pace of the throb in your head, you could hear your breathing echo in your ears yet in the state of exhaustion, you found it calming, melodic even. Miguel’s fingers that gave and tore your pleasure away now caressed the back of your head, gently as if you’ll break apart.
You could make out his chapped lips pressing kisses onto your temple as exhaustion won over your body, eyes falling shut with the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.
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winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
Taking care of you || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader
Summary: Miguel comes home after a rough week and a half out of his universe and you decided that the only way to take care of him was to web him down.
Tags: NOT BETA READ, SMUT, bondage, overstimulation, denied orgasms, multiple orgasms, blowjob, blindfolds, he bites you and paralyzes you, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), big dick Miguel, sub Miguel (ig??? he still try to get the upper hand throughout)
Words: 2k
I was struggling because all the words I know are aggressive because I watch gaming streamer (Quackity & Roier) and I don't think moaning pendejo or chinga tu madre is very sexy.
Spanish speakers, tell me what moanable curses you guys have, it's for science (I am begging u)
mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi amor - my love || dios mio - my god || mierda - shit || puta madre - motherfucker
When Miguel came home after a long week and a half, he’d expect a heartful meal to consume before passing out on a warm bed beside you. To get bound on the chair with a special web fluid designed to keep him down in the dimly lit apartment is not one of those expectations.
Being a Spider-Man with no spider senses, his first instinct was to break out of the binds, calming down and unmasking once he caught a whiff of your scent.
“Mi vida? What are you planning this time?”
“Nada, is it a crime to want to take care of you?”
Your touch burned through his suit as you dragged your fingers across his chest. After days without being to see nor feel your presence near him, the desire in his chest grew from a pea sized to universal.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes to finish what you planned before I break out of this shit.”
You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look over his shoulder where you stood so mysteriously with no indication of your clothing visible to his eyes.
“You won’t.”
Miguel chuckled. “Why not? I can probably break out of this if I want to.”
“I’ll go back home to my dimension for a month and you wouldn’t even be able to find me since you’d be busy with work.”
He frowned, cursing under his breath to which you giggled at.
“Are you going to break out, mi amor?”
He said nothing, turning away bitterly and you took it as a win. 
“Now, let me take care of you.”
When your lips first touched his neck, a spark went off in his veins. He grunts as your hands start roaming his chest with feather-light touches, forcing him to retract the suit to be able to feel your warmth on his skin to complete the gaping hole in his chest.
There was something about Miguel being tied up, hopeless and responsive to your touches as depravity clawed at his chest.
The frustrated groan when you pulled away to reposition yourself to sit on his lap told you everything you knew, the tent poking you when you sat on him was also a confirmation. Placing a kiss on his cheekbones, you pulled out the blindfold from your pockets and he groaned.
"Really?"
"Oh shush."
You've read somewhere about blindfolds enhancing the experience as a whole, something about taking out one sense amplifying the others and decided to try it out tonight.
And Miguel having sharper senses than most Spider people only made your plan irresistible to not do.
Tying it around his eyes, you find yourself enamored with how vulnerable and submissive he looks right now.
"Darling, you look so pretty like this."
He scoffed. "I would look better on top of you, cariño."
"Fair enough."
Unbuttoning his shirt, you placed light kisses on every inch of skin exposed to your eyes while he'd sigh at the feeling of your lips on him. You weren't able to unbutton it all nor push it away due to the webs but you deemed it perfect as long as his pecs and some parts of his collarbones are out in the open.
Turning your attention to his pants, you captured his lips with yours and it instantly grew heated with a hunger not even a meal alone can satisfy. Pulling his fly down, your hands rose to tug at his hair to which he groaned, a reaction you've never had in the past.
Is it really effective?
Pulling away, you tugged on his waistbands and pulled them down to reveal his girth standing at full attention leaking with pre-cum.
"Fuck… touch me."
“You’re not in control here.”
Even then, you wrapped your hand around his dick and even that alone got his breath stuck to his throat.
Maybe you should bring the blindfold more often…
Pumping him leisurely, he threw his head back, melting into the chair, thighs spreading wider as the enhanced ecstasy spiked his veins, stirring every fiber of his system awake.
"Mierda, th-that feels so good…" 
The sight of his glistening chest heaving heavily as sweat beads on his forehead is enough to make your nose bleed till the next year. A memory forever ingrained in your mind. 
You trailed kisses on his collarbones and up to the side of his neck. Miguel's streams of mumbled Spanish curses and shaky exhales should be classified as a drug with how addicted and how greedily you were engulfing every noise he makes.
"You look so pretty like this baby, it makes me want to tease you a little."
He said nothing, reveling in the nirvana you offered him so generously. His hips struggled and writhed in the small space he was allowed to, chasing his promised euphoria with desperation.
But before he could notify you, you unmounted him and he let out a frustrated groan. Miguel was about to rip the binds until you got to your knees, only to web his feet to the chair legs as well and he grew more tempted to do so.
"Come on! Even the feet?"
"Gotta secure the package, darling."
Placing chaste kisses on his weeping head, the complaints died down in his throat. You then laved your tongue around his slit, gathering as much of his pre-cum and he groaned, dick twitching in your hold. His taste is heavy on your tongue and you moan.
You missed him on your tongue.
Taking his whole cockhead, Miguel flinched, arms struggling behind him as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked hard while circling your tongue around his girth, providing him multiple sensations surrounding his girth.
"Dios mio, remove this blindfold. I wanna see you." He said, almost begging. "Please?"
"No, you look prettier this way."
Your hands stroked the places your mouth couldn't reach and Miguel's thighs trembled. His pants and borderline whimpers sounded like a sweet melody, the sight of his perspired skin glistening under the moonlight with his head thrown back burning itself at the back of your lids.
You'd stop at nothing to be able to see him like this again.
Then you heard a snap from the webs and you halted, pulling away to his absolute dismay.
"No no no no, ay puta madre—"
"Stop struggling and maybe I will continue."
He didn't say anything, his fuzzy mind struggling to conjure any good bargain to bring up.
"R-remove the blindfold then I'll consider."
"Nope."
He groaned, almost whiny and you grinned. Miguel slowly settled down, suppressing himself from breaking more threads. Once you deemed him behaved enough, you dipped down to take him in once more.
Relaxing your mouth, you sink in another inch of him before descending as further as you could go and pumping the other areas you knew you couldn't reach. The groan that left his lips was guttural, almost animalistic.
"Fuck, I'm near. Deeper cariño, I know you can do it."
Pinching his shaking thighs, you quickened your strokes while waiting for any tell tale of his climax. When his breathing picked up and his abdomen pulsed, you pulled away.
And Miguel whimpered.
And he realized it a little too late, cheeks darkening as he groaned in embarrassment.
"You did not hear that."
You laughed lightly. "But it was cute."
"Fuck your cute and pretty bullshit, why did you pull away?!"
You grinned. "I liked seeing you struggle."
"Ripping this off gets very tempting every passing second."
"I'll run away and don't think I won't do it."
The sound of you shedding off your shorts stopped him from mumbling incoherent complaints. You swung your leg over his thighs and placed yourself above his weeping dick. With his sense of smell
"Don't break from the webs, alright? If you do—"
"You'll run away, I know. Just fucking get on with it."
"So impatient, what if I don't do anything at all?"
"I will break off these chains and take you on the floor. Don't tempt me." He growled, pushing his arms out, stretching the webs as a demonstration.
Rolling your eyes, you lined him against your heat and sank down, the hardest part of your plan for the evening. Despite trying your best to stretch yourself out earlier before his arrival along with the drenched state you're in, it proved useless with how difficult it was to have him.
You hissed as the burn of the stretch lit your veins on fire and Miguel grunted, arms twitching at his sides.
"St-stop clenching so hard!"
"Not my fault you have a big dick!"
As you take in more of his inches, Miguel grew crazy at the warm tightness surrounding him reawakening the denied orgasm earlier. The blindfold taking away his sight only magnified the pleasure flooding his system to the brim. The coil in his abdomen tightened and he threw his head back, absolutely light-headed and drunk on ecstacy.
"Le-let me bite you, yeah? It'll go away. Fuck…! I'm so close..."
You didn't second guess his intentions, falling to his shoulder with your neck bared to his lips. Trusting your Spider-Man genes, he spared no time leaning down and sinking his fangs into you.
You gasped at the feeling of his incisors piercing your skin as your mind grew fuzzy and your body numbed itself to paralysis. Miguel, desperate for his climax, plunged his entire length into you before thrusting savagely in and out of your heat.
The sound of a hundred threads ripping off cuts through the air, his arms surged from behind the chair to curl around you. His heavy exhales, borderline whines, made your brain short circuit as he chased after his denied orgasms ferociously.
Panting openly on your shoulders with your name vaguely murmured like a mantra, you moaned at his sounds as he came with a shout, the feeling of his liquid arousal spurting into you made you shiver with delight but the shaking thighs beneath you only fueled your arousal further.
"F-fuck…! Thank you cariño. Mierda..." 
The paralysis ebbs away while Miguel continues to convulse, albeit weaker than before. Mouth hung open as he threw his head back, hands falling to your waists.
"How rude, you didn't even consider my pleasure, mi amor."
His grip on your sides tightened as you bounced on his dick and he faltered, trembling as he gasped and groaned at the overstimulation nipping at his senses. His hands tapped your thighs, asking for some rest and you slowed, waiting for him to use your safeword.
When he didn't, you picked up your previous pace and grinned.
"But when I did that, did you stop, cariño?"
He didn't answer as streams of Spanish curses and colorful words escaped his mouth. 
"Exactly, so take it like a king, alright? Maybe I'll forgive you for getting off the web."
You rolled your clit in tight and fast circles, growing merciful for him as his sounds turned into whimpers and pleads. The sinful sight of his sweaty self blindfolded and body intoxicated by ecstasy along with his beautiful noises was enough to bring you to the edge.
With a few strokes and rolls of your beads, you came. Warmth explodes from your chest to your fingertips and you let yourself sag to his shoulder whilst he grunted at the stings of overstimulation still mouthing at him as your walls pulsed around him.
"Fuck…! G-get off…"
He didn't even manage to get his sentence out when he exploded again inside of you and practically lost consciousness with how lax he turned beneath you.
Concerned, you tapped his cheeks. "Baby, are you still there?"
It took a while but he eventually answered, removing the blindfolds himself to peer up at you with glazed eyes. "Barely… You won't leave right?"
"Yeah, I was joking."
"Alright…"
You smiled, placing kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and lips. Miguel's face bloomed at this, grinning slightly.
"You did so well, darling."
He only nods. "I'm confiscating that solution by the way, you're not webbing me up again."
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winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.
Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.
Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.
mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)
“I think I’m ready.”
Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.
“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”
“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”
Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him. 
Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.
“Alright, what is it?”
Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.
But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.
Having a kid with both of your features…
It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.
“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”
The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”
“I think I’m ready for one.”
Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject. 
If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.
Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.
As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...
His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”
Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”
You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation. 
tik!
tok!
tik!
tok!
tik!
Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.
You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair. 
His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.
Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.
It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.
There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.
His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.
You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.
"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid." 
You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.
"You don't mind this one, yeah?"
"Rip it off."
He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.
"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."
You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.
His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.
But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.
"Fuck…" You whined.
"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."
He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.
You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.
"Mi vida..."
"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.
You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.
"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."
With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.
"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"
"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."
"P-please... Ah!"
Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.
You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.
"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.
Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.
"I-I'm close…"
"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."
Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his. 
"Come for me, cariño."
Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.
The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.
"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"
"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"
Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.
Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.
"You're wasting them."
Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.
The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.
Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.
"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."
7K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
Take a seat || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.
Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.
Words: 1.2k
saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa
other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah
mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey
“You want me to do what now?”
Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”
“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”
“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”
In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.
Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.
You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.
“Is it that hard to believe? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”
“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”
Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.
Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.
“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”
“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”
“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”
His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you smell absolutely delicious.”
His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.
His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin. 
There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy. 
You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.
Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.
His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.
Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.
You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.
“Fuck…!”
“You taste divine.” He groaned. “Give me more.”
Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.
“Move.”
“Huh?”
Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.
“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”
And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.
With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.
You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.
“Harder.”
“I’m trying—Ah!”
Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.
Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.
The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.
“I-I’m close.”
“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”
With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry. 
Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.
“Miguel…!”
His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.
You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.
And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.
Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”
“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.
6K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 11 months
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Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.
Words: 1.7k
Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)
This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD
forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love
Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.
You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.
But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.
Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.
Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.
"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."
So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.
The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.
"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"
"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."
Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."
"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."
"And you're here because you're also concerned?"
You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”
Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.
His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 
You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.
He's criminally dashing.
After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.
How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?
Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”
“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”
Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.
“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”
You grinned. "That's all I need."
He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.
His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.
Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.
"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"
"You know it'll last longer than thirty."
"I doubt that."
His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.
"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"
"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."
His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.
Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.
"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"
"Shut up and just touch me, please."
He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."
He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.
It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.
Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.
But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.
Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."
His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.
Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.
He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.
"You didn't squirt? What a shame."
"F-fuck you."
"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."
Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.
"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."
Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.
His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.
The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.
You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 
"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"
"Yes yes yes…!"
One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"
You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.
"No-not too much. It'll show."
Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"
"T-they'll find out."
He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."
Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.
"That's it. Give it to me."
Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 
"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."
You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."
Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.
With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.
Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."
Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.
"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"
3K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
Ride me? || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader
Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.
Words: 1.8k
Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.
This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.
cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome
Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.
You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.
Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.
You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.
It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.
So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.
He came earlier than expected.
"How'd the chase go?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Come here." 
Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.
You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."
His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.
"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"
You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.
You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."
"Then ride me."
You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.
His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.
"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."
Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.
"You are a convincing man."
"And you love it."
You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body. 
His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.
"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."
"Rip it then."
He didn't need to hear you twice. 
In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.
"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"
"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."
"I don't care, get rid of the suit."
His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.
"Let me prep you real good, huh?"
Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.
"So wet for me, mi amor."
"Only for you, guapito."
Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.
His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.
And it's only a finger in.
"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."
He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.
Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.
Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.
You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.
But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.
"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"
"Give it to me baby, I want it all."
It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.
A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.
And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.
"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."
You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.
It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.
And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.
Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."
He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.
He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.
"Fuck…!"
"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."
The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.
Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.
"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"
"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."
The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.
With a scream, you came. 
Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.
But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.
You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed. 
Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.
"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"
His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.
The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.
And with that, he's dragging you down with him.
"Please please please, give it to me…!"
"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."
With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.
When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same. 
As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.
"I love you so much, cariño."
"I love you more, guapito."
8K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 1 year
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Unholy || Karl Jacobs
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Pairing: Karl Jacobs x fem! Reader
Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.
Words: 6.4k
Tags: Overstimulation, priest! Karl, switch!Karl (he whines and comes first does that count?), porn without plot, rough sex, floor sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, priest kink, religious kink (i guess), cursing, dirty talk, name calling.
This is a fucking mess because I forced this one during my biggest writer's block but HEY ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED AFTER MONTHS. I'll go fix the mess later on, I am ready to pass out.
As always, constructive criticism is welcomed. I would like to hear what I should change and what not :DD
Archive
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The nights where the wind howled against the corners of the church are always the most insufferable nights, Karl observed. 
It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, ready to spew their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the thin plywood wall.
It's amazing how confident they are in confessing their sins just because their faces are obstructed from his vision.
It was always their disloyalty, either a far-away admiration situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms and another room. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens. 
They marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.
Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.
But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favourite food on the table or at the sight of you.
Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.
It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how graceful and attention grabbing you are without effort 
It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.
Your vanilla scent tantalises him, taunting his bound hands to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.
Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your face crumple into an expression of pure pleasure.
As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through leaving nothing, not even a piece of your bone, until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue in his waking and resting state.
It was a morbid thought a person like him shouldn’t have but his feelings are far tamer than what his mind lets on, still they remind him of the sinner he once was.
A man who lust over someone, whose hands became more tainted and occupied with every day passing with her growing closer to him.
He's no different from the others he swore to never turn into, the only difference was the cassock he wears, a sign of his affiliation with a religion while the others wore casual clothes.
Would you run if you ever saw the foul, revolting scenes his mind conjured for him at the deepest of nights when sleep felt like a tedious task and your smile taunting his very being?
Today was unfortunately one of those nights he dreaded yet welcomed so warmly like a friend, the stings of the chilly night on his cheeks is the only thing grounding him. The silence in the chapel is torturous, enough to make him wish for the usual boring confessions from the town folks.
Until the double doors creaked open and came calmed footsteps approaching the booth, it sounded nervous and jittery, making him wonder if this person's confession is more than adultery or lying.
Karl couldn't help but be hopeful that it'll be a different topic tonight.
He still wouldn't mind Susan telling him of her recent adventures with her neighbour's husband or John sluggishly recalling his latest fuck after work when his wife is worried sick for him at home.
It's not like he could even interfere with their lives. The last thing Karl wanted is being incorporated into a drama.
Upon hearing the person take a seat, he starts. "Good evening, what brought you to this seat, my child?"
There was a beat of hesitance that hung between them, heavy and tense, like the weight of this person’s sin on their shoulder. Maybe this night will truly be different. 
"Father, I have sinned."
Karl's heart fluttered in his chest, cheeks heating upon realising who the person sat on the other side. What kind of atrocity have you done? Maybe this secret of yours might repel him, straighten him up, wake him up from his daze.
He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. "How so? Tell me so I can pray your sins away."
There was a long pause that followed, Karl thought you fluttered away in your nervousness but soon, you spoke once more.
"I lust for someone and I don't know how to act upon it..."
Never have his heart fall to his feet faster than when he heard your whisper, an angry blob rearing its ugly head at the back of his mind, his stomach churning uncomfortably as his mind raced with thoughts of inquiring you more about this intense affection you feel for someone.
Just the thought of this someone he doesn’t know lingering in your mind, making your heart race… His blood boiled vehemently in his core, lighting up a faint pain in his chest as they circulated around his body.
The stretched stagnant silence between them was broken by your sigh as you continued your tale, Karl couldn’t be more thankful that you did, fearing the words that might escape his mouth will scare you off for good.
“I’ve only been in Kinoko for two months now but never have I ever fallen for someone as fast as I did for him.”
Your voice trembled, not only in nervousness but also a hint of shyness, the same tone when people are sheepish and blushing when they introduce their crush to a friend. His jaw clenched, his fists turning white and his nails digging straight into his skin, itching to drive itself to the nearest solid item near him but he knew he had to keep his composure.
He can’t be acting like a child who didn’t get the toy he asked his parents for.
“So not only do you lust for him but also love him?”
“I-I do, father.”
He was prepared to hear your admission but to hear it straight from you, his heart crumbles to his feet, eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Fate is truly cruel to those who're believed to be showered with blessings. Karl tilts up his head, he still has a confession to hear.
Is there really no chance he could ever be yours? 
Yes, a whisper at the back of his head said. It was already hopeless to think he had a chance in the first place.
He knew well enough how tight the rosary had bounded his hands, of course he never stood a chance. You know his boundaries more than he does at this point, his logic blurring whenever he sees you pass by, a passing breeze with your scent is enough to render him heedless.
At his heavy sigh, you called, anxious. “Father?”
“What a naughty girl you are. Lusting for someone who’s not your husband... What would the lord think of you now?”
He has no idea what compelled him to say such a thing with a seductive voice. He should give up already the logical part of him knew that but the other part of him urged him to continue, to hold onto the thinnest thread of hope that maybe this man you’re raving about is him.
It was delusional but can you really blame a man in love?
“H-he already thinks of me sinful for wishing to him every night… for someone to bend me over and fuck me rough like I’m nothing but a toy.”
A delicious shiver slithered down his spine at your words, urging blood to up to heat his cheeks and down between his thighs. He groaned softly, your soft voice matched with vulgar words sending pleasurable jolts down to his length.
You sounded so sultry, a succubus disguised as an angel descending to break him. It was dangerous to listen to you but he couldn’t help himself. Your voice holds the promise of a heated night lulling him closer to your arms.
“Tell me, do you ever touch yourself for him? Wishing it was his fingers and dick inside you?”
You responded with a soft groan, it was miniscule yet he almost bolted from his seat to cross the very boundary he was adamant to keep.
“Yes father. Every night I dream of him making me cum over and over again, not stopping even when I tap out.”
“What a mouth you have there. How bold of you to ask God himself for a good fuck and talk dirty to a priest."
Stop, the logical part of him whispered, he was crossing the boundaries placed between the light and the dark. But his heart that thudded harder in his chest and his cock that stirred in his trousers fogged his mind.
He’s too far gone to even try and leave.
“And what are you going to do about it?”
There was a challenging tone in your voice, condemning him to his fall from heaven and into the hell of your own making.
The string of constraint snaps and he’s on his feet. Karl walks out of the booth and into the other side, throwing the curtain open to see you look up at him with wide eyes, surprised and eager but he could see the glint of mischief in them.
There’s a lot of things that raged in his mind, actions he could do with you at his mercy. But instead, he sighed, mind clearing a bit as he straightened up.
“Step out of the booth and kneel in front of the cross to pray, I will baptise you once you show remorse to the lord."
He watched intently as you stood up with shaky legs, approaching the wooden podium noiselessly, the silence growing intensity with every footsteps taken. 
It was suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.
This is crazy, this is crazy. His thoughts bounced around his mind but he could care less, he started this and he will see through it all.
The stained glass windows casting a shadow over the figurine nailed on the cross, sculpted face tilted down, its expression ever firm yet it looked like iy was frowning at him for a split second.
It was spine chilling how it felt like its eyes were made to glower at him with disgust, judging his very being at where he stood. Karl's guts twisted at the thought, fear rising up to his throat only to dispese the moment you kneeled onto the red carpet, waiting for the priest to arrive and deliver his blessing, waiting for no one but him.
Your prayer left your lips in hushed whispers with both hands cupping each other close to your mouth. With the moon beaming down onto you, highlighting your figure underneath the oversized button up you wore. It was unfair how his desire showed no intention of stopping while you remained calm kneeling in front of the god’s hanging figurine.
The church gate closed and the lock echoed with a loud metallic clang and you shivered noticeably. Karl had to lock the main gate, nobody could enter the premises without his permission and no one could interrupt his moment with you. 
Heaven knows he'd run away if anyone were to ruin the already fragile mood.
"Father?"
"Can't have anyone entering such a holy space during a cleansing, you wouldn't want anyone to see how much of a bad girl you are, do you?"
Karl has never been as nervous as he is now. Not even when he moved out of his parents' house nor when he rose to stand in front of the masses for the first time as a priest. 
Yet there he was… A pin-drop interruption away from cowering in a corner. Both sides of himself are stuck in an on-going tug of war between his human desires and his god-fearing heart screaming at him.
Even every step he takes towards the front where you kneel and shiver with his approaching footsteps felt like he was striding towards his death.
His eyes wandered back to the divine sculpture pinned between mismatched panes of colored glasses. Karl's chest tightened before he averted his gaze in favor of paying attention to you.
God wanted his children to live happily and this is one of the things that'll give Karl joy, surely the divine and benevolent God could grant him this one sin.
But seeing the delectable tremble that shook your body after his words, his human desires pushed further front. He wanted to see your reaction, ached for a glimpse of how your cheeks flushed dark in his presence when he crouched in front of you, hand reaching up to pinch your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
There was something addicting with the way you easily surrendered control to him with so much trust made pride swell in his chest, something about the sight of you obediently kneeling with hands splayed on your thighs and staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with desire. A hunger he has grown unnaturally familiar with, befriended it even.
He couldn’t help but wonder if those eyes will retain its warmth and crave for his touch if you ever caught a glimpse of his mind whenever he thought about you.
"Before we start, tell me now if you want to back out, princess."
The rosary hanging from his neck scorched his skin, their round beads digging into his skin like an apparent annoyance. The accessory weighed heavier than any other day when he took it off and held it in his hand, a reminder of his duty as a priest who has made the pledge of Chastity, the same promise he’s about to break for you.
But if a ‘no’ ever escapes your lips, no matter how loud or hushed it is, he’ll be willing to stop in his tracks and move districts. 
He couldn’t bear the thoughts of you looking at him with disgusted eyes.
“Darling?”
You let out a shaky exhale. “Yes,  Father Jacobs.”
He grinned. “Good girl, now start praying.”
Karl watched as your eyes grew comically wide in shock, cheeks burning in humiliation as you fell to your chest, no doubt ashamed of assuming differently of his words. He held back the urge to laugh, no matter the setting, you never fail to be adorable.
But those worries dissipated once his large hand took yours with urgency and pressed the rosary into your hold.
Of all the hands he’s seen having the accessory hang from during the Sunday masses, he could confidently say that yours is the greatest of all. He wondered how your wrists looked when tied tightly with it.
“You only stop if I tell you to, alright? If you disobey, there will be consequences.”
With a nod, you started muttering your prayers and he went ahead to claim the lone bottle on the counter a few strides away.
"I'll start the baptising now."
But instead of going through the whole ordeal of sprinkling bits of the liquid on you like a proper priest would, he uncapped the bottle and poured its contents on you.
The water is truly holy, he thought as he stared at the sight of you in wet clothing.
You only gasped as the liquid drenched your shirt, sticking into your skin and revealing the bold red lacy bra you wore. The colour complimenting your skin so perfectly it hurts, it pains him that he's not seeing it properly.
"My apologies, the bottle broke. That shirt must be uncomfortable, we can proceed without it."
He went around you with hands cupping your shoulders as he kneeled, giving it a comforting squeeze before he reached around to undo two buttons. Your breath hitched when the collar loosened, he knew deep within that it was from the excitement and arousal yet he couldn’t help but be worried.
Karl would rather die and never see you again than be hated by you after using his power as a priest to force you into agreeing to this.
"Hey, are you sure you want this?"
When you nodded, he poured all the contents of the bottle onto your head, unsatisfied by your response. The fabric is practically translucent against your skin, what a sight you are to behold.
You gasped as the chilly temperature encouraged goosebumps on your skin but he could care less, he needed to hear you say it.
"Words princess. I need to hear them."
"Yes, Father Jacobs."
"Good girl." His words elicited a shiver from you as his hands made quick work of your shirt, shedding it off and tossing it somewhere in front.
The new uncharted skin revealed to him made his breath hitch, feverish and unmarked beneath his fingers, the goosebumps he felt under his touch sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, warmth exploding in his chest at your sigh. Such a perfect little darling for him.
Karl listened to your breathing as he lightly nibbled on your skin, careful not to leave a long lasting mark before drifting down to a more inconspicuous area to suck on. 
As much as he wanted Kinoko to know you've been fucked thoroughly tonight, he wasn't sure you'd like the idea like he does.
“Wearing such a promiscuous bra at a church, did you ever plan on repenting for your sins? Or were you hoping that someone would take you home and fuck you like the slut you are?”
“No sir, it's only for your eyes, Father Jacobs.”
He chuckled, pleased. “If it's a present for me, then shouldn’t I unwrap it?”
His pecks turned into open mouthed kisses and soon, he was laving the skin hiding your rapid heartbeat with his tongue. Every sigh you emit sends pleasurable jolts downward and further hardening his length, your every soft moan of his name frying his nerve endings alight, the feelings are intoxicating.
Your sweet, honeyed scent is addicting as it surrounds him and like the addict he is, he drowned in them, letting your perfume momentarily overpower his lust.
even then, he noticed the silence—save for your moans— in the room and swatted your thigh.
"I'm not hearing your prayers missy, don't think I've forgotten that."
If you continued, he didn't even realise. His focus zoned on the feeling of lace under his touch as he touched the hem before unclasping your bra and disposing them somewhere behind him, hands surged to your mounds, grabbing a handful and squeezing it gently. Hard nubs poking his palm, screaming for his attention, urging him to pinch them.
You’re so soft and pliant underneath his touch, surrendering and trusting him with your vulnerability and boy, does it feel good.
He felt like a high schooler who just saw boobs for the first time in his life, a teenager about to cream his pants at the sight of a topless woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if he explodes before even entering you.
"So pretty for me."
As his hands massaged both mounds gingerly in his hold and you sighed, nails digging into your skin as he pulled them before pushing back up to relieve the stings his fingers left. 
His fingers soon found your nipples and pinched them between two digits, sending ripples of pleasure in your system as he tugged on them before rolling the hard nubs in different directions.
But you needed more and he knows that from the way you crossed your thighs to close around nothing, attempting to relieve the burn in your inner core, the intense ache between them. Karl watched as your cheeks crudely flushed before he parted you open with his legs wedging in between them.
His long hands trailed down your legs teasingly, dropping to your inner thighs before they caress you up to your knees. 
"Father Jacobs, please."
His hands paused at your thighs. "What is it?"
"Touch me please..."
"But I am touching you." His hands dug into your flesh before grabbing onto them with an iron grip, the sting only igniting your core further.
"You know what I mean.."
"I don't, princess. Tell me what do you want?"
Arousal burned your cheeks a deeper red as you desperately grabbed his hand on your inner thigh and dragged them to your itching heat, body trembling when he cupped over your sex. 
Karl felt light as you pushed his fingers down on your prominent nub, moaning as you manoeuvre them to circle it, he could feel the fabric grow wetter with every touch and he almost passed out.
The heat radiating off of your clothed folds is enough to drive him crazy, he couldn’t even imagine how he’d react once he breaches your underwear and touches your arousal, revelling in them.
He could feel the burning phantom stare above him, shame curling around his heart as he stared down at your slowly writhing hips. Karl wasn't emotionally affected by his dirty talk earlier but now that he's touching your clit through your panties, the guilt weighing heavily on his heart almost made him run but your voice pulled him down, grounding him 
"Touch me here, father."
The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Asking to be finger fucked in front of the lord, aren't you a kinky little slut?"
You nodded feverishly, groaning as you pushed his hand down, mewling at the pressure applied to your clit. The fabric was absolutely drenched in your wetness and Karl almost blacked out.
He didn’t need to hear your words next, his hand pulling the cloth to one side before the other slid down into your folds, brushing over your clenching hole and rising up to press onto your clit. You moaned, hips following the slow swirl of his finger.
Karl wondered what he could do to you, there’s a lot of possibilities and he’s lightheaded at the thought of them. 
He could have you trembling from pleasure upon pleasure here on the floor but he could also treat you properly and calmly guide you to your climax. Karl wondered what could satisfy a minx like you.
“Karl please…”
Of course this isn't enough. He slipped two fingers in and you let out a strangled moan at the sudden but welcomed intrusion, back arching when he curled his digit to reach up to the spongy spot continuously that got your hips rising from the floor.
You moaned and panted so sweetly in his ears, hands gripping onto his sleeves as he plunged his two fingers in and out of your cunt at a growing frequency.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
His hand picked up a pace and you mewled, head falling back to his shoulder as your hips rose to meet his thrusts. The wet squelch bouncing off the walls with every thrust of his finger made your cheeks burn from embarrassment but they only goaded him on. 
The apparent burning phantom stare now numb to him as he opened your thighs further for his gaze.
Karl felt light at the feeling of your walls clamping around his hand greedily, sucking him in yet also pushing him out, it was maddening. His length ached behind the confines of his pants, desiring nothing but to plunge himself into your heat and die a happy man.
“My little princess is so drenched for me.” He slid another digit into your folds, smoothly joining the already inserted fingers in its increasing pace and you fluttered. “Don't you have any shame for spreading your legs in front of God?”
A slick slap tore a yelp from your throat, the sting lighting your skin aflame before his fingers plunged itself again into your hole with a renewed vigour, the new pace got your knees flinching to close but his legs wedging between them prevented it from shutting and instead opened it further.
You cursed under your breath, hands rising up to massage your breasts, pulling on your nipples as you moaned like a crazy woman in his arms.
Karl watched with bated breath as his hands retracted and reentered your cunt, throat tightening as your walls clamped onto his curling fingers with an iron grip. You were crumbling in his arms and he’s elated, he was enjoying his effect on you, whose body is sensitive and responsive to his every touch.
It was an addictive feeling and he’s obsessed.
“Fa-faster…! Fuck.. Karl!”
"Aren't you ashamed you're being finger fucked in front of the lord, princess?"
You clenched at him as your head shifted in his shoulder, probably to look at the statue above you both before moaning a little louder than before, undeterred by the omniscient eyes possibly watching him pump his fingers in and out of you.
He thrust his fingers in and out feverishly, like his life depended on it. With his legs keeping your thighs firmly open, you had no choice but take it all, hips thrashing wildly and bucking into his fingers. Karl clamped a hand over your mouth as your moans increased in volume, bouncing off the walls of the church.
He was proud he's making you scream but he wouldn't want to wake up any of the sisters nor concern the locals with your screams.
"I-I'm close..!"
"Come for me princess, give it to your darling priest."
The pressure from his palm bumping into your clit along with the rapid thrust of his digits soon got you trembling as hot white flashed behind your closed lids and you came. 
You screamed into his palm as your orgasm came without a warning, exploding and lewdly expelling liquid pleasure into the chapel floor before trembling pathetically in his arms, body reduced to the state of euphoria.
Karl retracted his hand with a squelch, raising it to eye level to revel in the wetness fully coating it, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at them drooping down before sucking on his fingers. Your flavour exploded on his tongue and he groaned.
"You taste so fucking good baby. Did so well for me."
Your hands weakly tugged on his pants and he knew what you wanted.
Because he also wished the same.
Soon enough, his pants were tossed somewhere behind him and he was left standing on his boxers. The stiff tent on them immediately caught your eyes and you reached out to free him from the constricting fabric, hand wrapping around his base once he was completely bare.
Karl dared to let his fantasies play in front of him as he watched your hand pump him slowly and you stared at him through your eyelash before kissing the tip of his cock with feigned innocence, he groaned.
What a minx you are.
“Can I taste you, Father Karl?”
“Later, on your back now, princess.”
His hands guided you down carefully, palm splaying onto your abdomen as if your body would break under miniscule of pressure, his words and actions not correlating as he naturally hovered over your body.
There must've been divine intervention when you laid, spread and vulnerable in front of him. The moonlight escaping the huge mirror behind the altar shone perfectly down on your body, highlighting your perky nips and casting shadows on places that made you look more desirable than earlier when you were kneeling.
Karl couldn't help but be thankful that he was rewarded with such a sight in this life.
"You're so pretty." 
His head bent down to place a haste kiss on your stomach and your breath hitched. The heat of his breath and the hovering weight of his length on your fold frying your nerve endings aflame as he peppered kisses all over your body.
"Karl, please."
A huge hand entangled themselves with yours, his face hovering on top of you, noses a hair's width. He could feel your exhales on your lips, awakening the butterflies in his stomach as you stared at his lips.
Breathless, he asked. "What do you want, princess? I need to hear it"
"Kiss me please." 
You didn't need to ask twice when Karl leaned down to capture yours in a slow dance. Time slowed, all you could feel was the softness and warmth of his skin under your touch and slightly chapped lips caught between yours.
He reached a hand to cup your cheeks, scared that you'll be another dream of his as you nibbled on his lower lip.
You only stopped when breathing became a problem, Karl pulling away first to place kisses between the valley of your breast before he rose to head level, silently asking for permission as he stared deep into your eyes.
No words were said but you understood what he wanted. His eyes reminding you of a begging dog as it stares deep into yours.
With a nod and a trembling exhale at the promise of pleasure he was about to give you, the head of his length parted your hole, walls clenching around him as he entered. A searing heat flooding your folds as you adjusted to his thickness while he carefully inserted himself into you.
His groan rumbled deep in his lungs and ricocheted in the shell of your ears before sending shivers down your spine, the pain of his iron grip on your waist only fueling the burn of lust raging in your veins. 
His firm composure shook, eyebrows crunching and eyes closing in unadulterated pleasure just from entering you.
Karl almost passed out, your warmth clamping around his dick so greedily is taking his breath away. Lord forbids he moves, he might come earlier than he'd want to.
God give me strength.
"Relax a little, baby." His thumb found your bundle of nerves and rolled it gingerly in tight cirlces as he slowly pushed all of his inches inside your cunt.
You felt full to the brim. You haven’t had someone as thick as Father Karl before but it was a welcomed change. Your breath stuck in your throat as you adjusted to his length, legs wrapping around his middle as your body decided between keeping him inside and ejecting him. 
Karl's head fell to your shoulders, grunting and panting as your walls crazily pulsed around him, crunching his eyes as he focused on something else other than coming earlier than he'd want to.
"I-I'm sorry, it's been a while."
His body shuddered as he struggled to withhold his own climax for you. There’s a sick part of yourself that glowed at the sight of his struggle, small whimpers erupting from his throat as he hid his reddened cheeks from your eyes.
Karl is breathtaking when he’s domineering and demanding but absolutely sinful when he’s panting and embarrassed. 
Experimentally, you wound your legs around his lower back and tighten around him. A strangled whine left his lips, the sound sinful yet so sweet as his nails dug into the skin of your waist. "St-stop it."
"Come on, Karl. I wanna see you come."
"F-fuck…!" He weakly exclaimed, his composure faltering as you squeezed harder. “Stop..!”
“But you look so pretty like this.” 
You wiggled your hips and he folds, his back falling and rising in quick successions before he pulled out and splattered his hot semen into your abdomen. You couldn’t help but giggle at this. A crisp slap echoed in the room, his hand leaving an angry mark on your left inner thigh.
"You are in so much trouble, young lady."
"Am I really?"
Your teasing chuckle halted in your throat when he plunged three digits into your heat, moving them at a feverish pace, not letting you adjust to the stretch. Your hips rose from the ground from the sudden influx of stimulation, trying to avoid his unforgiving thrust but the firm hold on your waist prevented you from moving away.
A wicked grin spreads on Karl's face as your legs flail around him, heels digging into his thighs and pushing him away but the man relents. 
“Stop moving and take it like a good little slut.” He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, squeezing hard enough to hurt but not to bleed.
Blood rushes up to your cheeks at the name, embarrassingly aroused by it. The stinging pain it brought became the pleasure that ran down to his length, hardening it further. You could only wail in place, his iron grip on your waist unrelenting.
Your body erupted in flames, every vein of your body scorched with the fierceness of pleasure running through them, every collision of his hips into yours sending sparks down your thighs. There was nothing but moans and whines leaving your lips as the coils in your abdomen tightened with every thrust and Karl knew it.
His eyes rose to your lust clouded eyes, down to your bouncing breasts and standing nipples almost begging for his touch before it fell to your cunt sucking him in greedily as you bounced on his cock. 
He burned the image of your sex-drunk state at the back of his eyelids, such a sight should be treasured forever.
A sloppy slap echoed in the chapel and your legs closed around his body, his fingers retreats from your hole only to be replaced by his length, immediately lodging himself to the hilt, his head almost nudging your uterus.
"Fuck!"
"That's right baby. This priest is fucking you good tonight."
He folded your legs to your stomach before starting his rampage, pulling out until his head remained before bottoming out in a flash and you screamed as you came apart without warning.
Even with your legs twitching and your sobs increasing in volume, Karl only continued, even daring to speed up. He didn't mind that you're about to leave bleeding scratches on his forearm, if anything, they're proof of this encounter. Something he'll surely remember in his waking days and sleepless nights.
Just like how he carved himself inside you.
You stuttered out incoherent words as he thrusted in and out of you in quick progressions, impatient and rabid. Pleasure and pain intermingled with each other so much your brain couldn't process which one is which as they blurred,  deeply cock drunk to w
There was something about how you're letting him witness such a sight, to let him bask in your lust driven state that makes his heart grow. 
So trusting and so perfect for him, God himself is truly generous to grant him this opportunity.
"K-Karl, please..! I can't—"
"You can baby, now give me another one."
As if his dick continuously poking your g-spot wasn't enough, his hand moved down to roll your protruding bundle of nerves and you swore you saw fireworks behind your eyelids. 
Pleasure flooded and fogged your already sex-addled mind, your own thoughts overshadowed by your own arousal and you screamed. Karl watched your shaking thighs with sadistic glee before the dam broke and you squirt.
Your throat grew hoarse and dry as your climax tore a moan from it. Karl pulled out until the tip and plunged back in, albeit slowly this time, his ears tuned to your incoherent blabbers as he chased his own high.
“I-I can’t anymore.”
His palm felt like spring after a harsh winter when it splayed on your back and rubbed your skin gently, comforting but it did nothing to your shaking legs. “Just a little bit more, princess. Can you do that for me?”
You only hummed a response, there was nothing you could do with weakened limbs and a traitorously hungry cunt despite the stings of pain lashing across it. His groans rumbled deep into your middle. 
“Next time, I’ll fuck you properly on a bed, treat you like a princess and a cock sleeve that you deserve. Would you like that baby?”
You nod, tears spilling down your eyes as his hips collided into yours, the promise of a next time lost in your muddled thoughts. It didn't take long before thick strings of his cum flooded into your insides, his own climax triggering yours and your body shook.
Karl couldn’t help but chuckle as your greedy cunt constricts around nothing to keep his seeds from spilling out. Seeing his come ooze out of your pulsing cunt sent tremors down his spine but he has to stop now, you’re already spent tonight.
Later.
He rose to pick your lax figure up from the floor and forced you to sit on the nearest pews before going around the room to pick up your discarded clothes. Karl decided on forgoing his t-shirt to use it to wipe his essence staining the wood and your skin, your wordlessness made him nervous.
You could be still gliding from the state he reduced you to or maybe you were regretting everything, either way, Karl is scared, you could see it in his eyes as he gingerly wiped you down and dressed you up until you gathered the strength to do it yourself.
Laying on the floor indeed gave you back aches and with the weakness of your limbs from your previous endeavours exhausted you incredibly, the comfortable silence of the room only pulling you closer to sleep, something Karl immediately took notice of.
“Did you regret it?”
You cupped his cheeks, keeping his eyes firmly on yours before shaking your head. “No, I don’t.”
“Wanna stay the night?”
“If you promise to let me hog your blankets.”
He grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. “Of course princess.”
303 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 1 year
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Man In The Mirror || SBI
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Characters: Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade (Allusions), Philza (Allusions).
Tags: Soulmate AU, Orphaned Tommy, Hurt/Comfort (?), Mentions of Death, Famous Musician Wilbur, Not Beta Read, Swearing, Crime Boys Centric.
Words: 3.7k
I haven't written in so long hence, no updates. But I'll post the other parts of Thorned Exhales later on in life, have this SBI short fic that I tried writing before shit went down.
This is inspired by that one tumblr post where in a Soulmate AU, you other half dies and shows up at your mirror, I forgot their blog name so if you know them, let me know :DD.
As usual, I accept criticism and welcome them as I want to do better with my writing :D, enjoy!
_____________
There’s a man in the mirror, Tommy observed.
He rubbed his eyes hard enough that they might fall from its sockets but there's actually a man in exchange for his reflection.
He already had a shit day after the clinic's nurse scolded him for dislocating a kid's jaw --- he still thinks the fucker deserved it --- to have his insanity proven by the hallucination in front of him was the icing on today's cake.
No matter how much he blinked, rubbed his eyes and pinch his arms.
There’s a man in the mirror, staring back at him and there's no denying that he's actually there.
The man was tall, gangly limbs hanging off to his sides almost longer than his torso if you count his hands, chestnut brown hair curling to themselves to form a puffy mess at his crown, the side of his head trimmed short enough for the eyes to focus on the mop of a hair he has. 
There were a couple of strands on his cloud fringe dyed in dark grey, like the old man he appears to be. Tommy thinks it's cool but he wouldn’t say it out loud.
He was dressed nicely, a thick and surely expensive trench coat with the hem stretching down to his knees, his yellow turtleneck, however was stained blue in shapes of fingerprints all around the fabric. The man looked well off and wasn’t that an irritating sight to see.
But what takes the crown was the bored look his eyes carried when Tommy met him first through his round glasses. 
Dark brown eyes overflowing with nonchalance and apathy, the dark bags under his eyes only solidifying Tommy’s impression of him.
A dickbag who dares to look more tired of the world than Tommy is. How dare this bastard hold those emotions in his gaze when he hasn’t tasted extreme poverty or live everyday with your life on the line?
“Hey, get that stupid look out of your face, bitch.”
People normally get scared of the supernatural but not Tommy Innett no, the world would have to follow his whims and bow before he’d think of ever following their rhythm.
Hell, his full name is Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett for fucks sake, how could he pussy out with such a name?!
“Who are you to order me around, stupid child?”
Tommy was floored, recoiling from the raw annoyance in the guy’s voice.
He dares to have that tone when he’s trespassing his property?! Tommy decided there on there that this man is the most annoying prick he has ever encountered, real or not.
“Tommy fucking Danger Strong Smart Innett, don’t you dare call me stupid when you look like a Jared named bastard!”
The man scowled before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose to mutter something unintelligible before looking up again with an exasperated gaze at Tommy before shaking his head and tilting his head back to stare at the sky.
“God, why are you so cruel to me?”
“Because you’re a bitch!”
“Why do I even bother…” He looked away from Tommy to stare at the space beside him, looking at his shabby mattress. "Say kid, where are we? Rather, where are you?"
Tommy stared at the man, squinting with suspicion. The man whose eyes showed nothing but apathy and boredom intimidates him, Tommy admits to himself. He has seen many movies where killers held the same dullness in their irises for him to entrust the man with his address.
Seeing the distrust in his eyes, the man sighed in defeat. "I'm not gonna kill you man, I'm stuck in the reflection dimension or whatever this shit is."
"No, you're a figment of my imagination bitch, the other kids have them!" Tommy paused, remembering something. “But they’re walking around unlike you.”
At that, as if he realised something, the dullness in the man's eyes softened a little as he stared back at the child in front of him. There was a sad cloud of conflict that grew in his irises, as if he’s withholding a truth he couldn’t say, forbidden even.
Tommy doesn’t like how this man stared at him like that, stupid adults and their hero complex, always thinking their actions are for the best of the other party.
"Ok, I won't ask about your location but what about your name? Tommy was it?"
"Tommy Innett, the biggest and bravest man there is." He said with chest puffed out.
This got the man to chuckle lightly, pocketing his hands in his coat as he stepped forward and to the stray light escaping the closed blinds. 
"How about you boss man? Are you a ‘Jared’ like I thought you are?"
The man's face scrunched.
"Fuck no, kill me if I were to be named so poorly like Jared. I'm a Wilbur type of guy."
“Wilbur.” Tommy repeats, the name rolling of his tongue smoothly, as if it was meant to be spoken by it. “That’s such a shit name.”
“You are so fucking rude, why didn’t your mother swallow instead?”
“You–”
Wilbur looked around closely, eyes darting from one place to another. Unwilling to be subject to Tommy’s word explosion, he spoke once more.
"So are you alone in this room?"
Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms. "And why would I tell you that?"
First he comes to his room — or rather his mirror — unannounced and uninvited and now he’s prodding into his lifestyle in the orphanage, didn't his unwelcomed ass already done enough?
Seeing the scowl displayed clearly on Tommy’s face, Wilbur continued.
“Said this once and I’ll say it again, I’m not gonna kidnap you or some shit. The fuck am I even gonna need you for?”
Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know! Maybe you’ll sell me off or gut me and sell them to the black market!”
“I’m stuck in this stupid mirror, what even made you think I’d ever want to stay here with you?!”
That hurted him, was he so annoying that someone wanted to leave him the first time they met? It reminded him of the parents that returned him to the orphanage, every one of them annoyed by his antics. Wilbur’s words hammered itself deep into the creases of his brain, a constant reminder of the parent’s distaste for him.
A reminder of his failure to reach their standards.
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bastard, you don’t know anything.” he spat out through gritted teeth, feet dragging himself out of the room and away from Wilbur.
___________
When Tommy came back, exhausted from the overlapping noises outside and from the chores the caretakers gave him, Wilbur was still in his mirror, sitting crossed legged and his head supported by the arm he propped on his thigh. He was dozing off, he looked peaceful when he’s not being an insensitive prick, Tommy thought as he gently closed the door behind him.
He doesn’t want to wake him up, already sensing the awkward air build up if the man ever roused from sleep.
On his tiptoes, he trudged to his bed as stealthily as he could, his senses tenfold sensitive as he crossed the room.
“I’m sorry Toms.”
Tommy’s soul jumped out of his skin Wilbur’s raspy voice sliced through the silence, his heart rapping against his ribcage as he snapped his head towards the adult fixing his sitting position, eyes opening as he stretched his arms above his head.
He doesn’t know what to respond, honestly, he didn’t expect him to even apologise like any other adults in the area. Wilbur continues to ruin the expectations he had for people once more, maybe he’s from a fantasy world where ‘sorry’s aren’t a luxury.
"Do you really mean that Wilbur?" He asked, turning to him.
The man seemed taken aback by his reaction, furrowing his eyebrows before answering.
"Of course Tommy, I was such an insensitive dick to you earlier. I-I didn't figure out that you're in an orphanage until one of the caretakers went in to change the sheets."
At that, he turned to his bed to see his sheets were indeed switched with a cleaner one. Pristine white and a little ragged but it works just fine, providing him enough heat at night.
It must be pathetic to Wilbur, who seemed to be a silver spooned bastard, if not fed with a golden one instead. With such a fancy get up and expensive watch and rings, Tommy's living condition must be pitiful.
Of all the imaginary friends he could have, it has to be a rich guy.
"I shouldn't have said what I said. So I'm sorry Toms." Wilbur continued, hanging his head low as he picked on the laces of his boots.
Tommy felt uncomfortable by the man’s genuine apology. This is a first, he thinks as he stares at him.
He could monetize this shit, act upset and maybe he could earn a useful favor in the future from the ghost, scare off some kids or steal something for him, the possibilities are endless!
"You hurt me, Wilbur."
"I know, I'll make it up to you at some point."
A smile grew on Tommy's face. "Really?"
"Of course, is there anything you want to know about me or the world?"
Forgiveness in exchange for information? Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it but then again, what can Wilbur offer him when he's trapped in a mirror with no way out like he said he is? 
Staring at his expensive and thick silver watch, Tommy wondered if the man ever travelled around the world? He must've been a guy fed with a silver spoon, he must've seen the stunning sights of Switzerland or maybe even Italy.
"Have you ever travelled abroad before?"
"Of course, I was a part of a band once."
Tommy's eyes widened. Wilbur is a musician? A popular one it seems, considering how he had international concerts, that's what big names do right? He's a huge music enthusiast, it was one of the things in life that motivates him. For a musician to stumble upon his door...
Tommy is curious about all things music. Maybe Wilbur can teach him a few tricks or so.
"What band were you in?"
There was a quick shift inside Wilbur's chestnut eyes before he spoke, hesitation and conflict, Tommy identified.
But why?
"That's the thing… I-I can't recall everything just yet." He motioned to his head. "I ca-can remember the basics but there's... empty spots in my memory."
"Oh." 
It was all Tommy could say, disheartened.
All of his hopes of learning thrown out of the window, he wanted to hide how upset he is but he couldn't stop it from seeping out from the walls he established around him.
Seeing this, Wilbur's heart clenched in its cage, the disappointment in the kid's eyes leaving a bitter taste on his tongue but it was better that Tommy stays in the bliss of ignorance, at least until he hits the proper age.
With a sigh, he opened his mouth once more.
"Well, I can still remember a few areas we visited during our tour. Wanna hear about them?"
___________
Birthdays are overrated, Tommy tells himself.
Birthdays are boring, he said as he stared at the parties hosted on the 2nd floor of the fast food restaurant downtown when he passed by. Birthdays are boring, he muttered as he silently wished a celebration for his once in this lifetime.
Orphans don't get the luxury of celebrating their birthdays, Tommy knew that himself but he couldn't help but wish there was someone who'd valued them as much as he does.
Everyday he wakes up, he tells himself I'm going to be adopted today. But they never do, the adults don't want someone who's brash and loud, what they all wanted was someone soft, someone they can easily order around. 
He could act docile and kind like they all want but Tommy doesn't like that.
He wants to be accepted for who he is, Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett.
All of the adults ignored such a festivity except the man in the mirror.
It's been a few months since he appeared and Tommy doesn't know if he calls Wilbur a blessing or a curse.
The man was an enigmatic fella. One moment he's a menace, teasing and laughing with Tommy till his jaw aches then Wilbur's mood will abruptly drop into his misery and never-ending sadness even Tommy couldn't remedy with his usual antics.
Even then, he never forgets to worry about Tommy. His voice is soft, albeit rough from lack of use that day, as he reminds him about dinner, noticing him skip his meals throughout the weeks they've been together.
So when Tommy's smiles didn't reach his eyes, Wilbur knew something was up.
"Why do you look stupider today?"
Tommy scoffed. "Do you mean amazing? I think I look more handsome today."
"Your smile isn't reaching your eyes, what's happening?"
Tommy could lie and say it's just a bad day but he could never escape Wilbur's inquisitive eyes, it was almost annoying if it wasn't secretly endearing for him.
"Nothing much, big man just got bigger by a year."
Wilbur's eyes widened as he muttered unintelligible words under his breath before his voice grew. "Oh god, I'm sorry Toms."
"No worries, I'm used to it. Besides, you didn't know so it's understandable."
"Still, happy birthday man. How old are you now?"
"10 and yet I'm the biggest, strongest man in this building." Tommy puffed his chest as he stared up at Wilbur who's eyes crinkled with joy.
Then came a pause as Wilbur's eyes seemed to hold the same conflict of last time, swirling deep in his dark brown eyes as he pondered over something. Curiosity rose in Tommy at the shift in the man's mood.
But after a few ticks of silence, the man spoke once more.
"Is there anything you want, kid?"
Tommy laughed at that. There's no way someone trapped in the mirror just asked him what he wants for his birthday. It was more comical to him that Wilbur looked determined and dead-set on it.
How can he even leave the mirror and buy him a gift when he couldn't leave the place through all of those months spent together?
"How can you even buy for me man? Aren't you stuck in the mirror dimension or some shit?"
Wilbur scowled. "Just spit it out child, I have my ways."
Tommy knew he shouldn't let the tiny hope in his heart fester, it was impossible that he'd ever get what he wanted anyways.
Yet a tiny voice at the back of his head urged him to obey him, tell him what he wanted to taste or hold for so long.
It was Wilbur after all, what can that man do to ever harm him? He knew his address and name and nothing bad has ever happened to him the whole time they've been together.
If anything, Wilbur helped him in many things.
"I think I'd like a superhero comic book, I don't care what it's about and also McDonald's."
Wilbur nods, crossing his arms. "And what do you want from McDonald's?"
"A shit ton of fries, chicken sandwich and maybe a mcflurry?"
"Gotcha, go do your homework in the meantime." Wilbur said as he walked away from his sight, blending into the reflection of Tommy's bedroom.
He couldn't help but be curious why Wilbur held such a grim expression the moment he turned away. The man thinks he's quick and sly but Tommy saw how fast his smile dropped when he thinks his face is hidden from him.
He wondered how the man trapped in the mirror dimension could even fulfil his birthday wish, his questions leading him astray from his current tasks at hand.
He knows not to hope but he couldn't help the budding light from swelling in his heart. 
So he followed Wilbur's order to finish his homework and wait.
Soon enough, the sun has set and the moon took reigns over the sky along with its dark background. Every tick of the clock after it went over 5 pm sent pricks into his heart as his already small hope trickled away.
Tommy knew he shouldn't have hoped for anything. He must've looked ridiculous sitting cross legged in front of the mirror, waiting for the man to reappear as if he held the cure to every illness and he's about to die.
But before Tommy could even stand up from the mirror to resign to his bed for the night, Wilbur returns with a triumphant smile, hands in his coat pockets as he strode into the view like a man who won the lottery. 
There wasn't anything new about him other than his changed expression, Tommy wonders what happened.
"Where did you go, boss man?"
"That's a secret, but we gotta go somewhere quick alright? Bring your spoon with you."
Tommy followed, taking the spoon from his bedside table and waited for Wilbur to jump into the utensil's reflection before taking the blue coat at the end of his bed and leaving his room.
With not a single cent to his name, Tommy stole a spoon from the cafeteria months ago to take Wilbur to his maths lessons for help in understanding the lesson better.
He's still smart, sometimes geniuses need someone to explain lowly things to them taught through complicated methods and Wilbur was the only volunteer to do such a work.
"This is stupid Wilbur, where are we even going?"
"Let's go to the park, I told them to go there."
Them? Who are they?
The mystery of it all makes Tommy anxious. 
What is Wilbur planning? Is he finally going to kidnap him after barely escaping this horrible place?
"If you think I'm abducting you, fuck off. I'm not that evil man, I don't even have the face for it!" Wilbur exclaimed as if he heard his thoughts loudly.
"You wanted me to go to the park at night, it's sketchy as shit man!"
"Whatever, you'll get it once we arrive."
Even the suspicion planted in his heart wasn't enough to trample the excitement that thrummed in his veins. He doesn't know what he was getting enthusiastic for when Wilbur might, for all we know, be out for his head after that time Tommy teased him out of the mirror.
The park was silent save for the rustles of leaves, the trees and shrubberies glistened lightly under the moonlight from the small downpour earlier. It was mildly made obvious by the street lights on the shining cobble pathways. 
But what caught his attention is the man with his helmet standing under a lamp next to his parked bicycle, a paper bag in one hand as he typed into his phone with the other.
Tommy wouldn’t have found the situation more suspicious if the man didn’t have a familiar logo of a delivery company on the side of his helmet.
"Go Toms, that's yours."
He couldn't say anything. 
For once in his life Tommy couldn't utter a word out of his mouth, not even a random stream of bullshit left him like it usually does. He was stunned, shocked and thankful all at the same time.
He pinched himself but he isn't waking up from his dream.
Wilbur really did give him a birthday gift. The first ever.
"Are you fucking kidding me, Wilbur?"
"No, get it."
The man turned to him once Tommy was close enough, handing the bag to him.
It shocks him that the man didn't even hesitate in doing so.
Is he not worried that the parcel might fall into the wrong hand?
Tommy looked around, he remembers those laughs for gag shorts on the television. Surely, this must be a sick joke where a camera is hiding behind the tree or something, waiting for him to be thankful before they jump out to ridicule him.
Turning to Wilbur again, Tommy's vision blurred, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he registered the man's soft gaze and genuine smile.
Maybe not all adults are foul and annoying. Maybe some people do adore him. Wilbur really does love him, care deeply for him, so much that it pains Tommy to think of.
Is it alright for him to have such a luxury?
"Delivery from anonymous, there's two spider-man comics there." Tommy still couldn't believe his ears. Did he really get a gift on his birthday? "Happy birthday mate, he said."
Even when the man was long gone into the night, Tommy stood there astounded, the weight of the bag more apparent than it should be. His chest hurts and his heart swells from the thought, a smile broke from his lips as tears trickled out of his eyes.
Was he dreaming? If he is, Tommy wished he'd never wake up.
Seeing tears stream from his face, Wilbur's heart ached in its cage, his arms aching at his sides, he wanted to hug Tommy. Comb his hair back as he whispered reassurance into his head. Never has he felt so helpless as he does now, he wants so much but can't have any.
It was maddening but he shouldn't put a damper on their mood, it's a good day.
So Wilbur smiled and said. "Happy birthday Toms, I'm glad I met you."
___________
Even after his birthday surprise, Tommy’s opinion of Wilbur never changed
The man in the mirror is as annoying and weird as he is helpful.
Wilbur is smart, being an adult with more experience than him, and taught him how to count and do his basic maths assignments. When there’s problems that arose from the shelter, Wilbur would tell him his own solution, explaining the hard words with care and playful teasing.
Surprisingly, Tommy understands it better even if the man fucked around than a teacher who ironed a stoic expression and wielded a book.
He was brotherly in his own way, never fleeing from the reflections around the center to watch Tommy go around his daily chores and warn him if the head cook is about to enter the cafeteria when he goes to sneak a cookie out of the jar.
Wilbur is his buddy, his shadow.
They were attached to the point of Tommy sneaking out a spoon just so he could have Wilbur hiding in his pockets. The adults will scold him later on but he could care less. He wants the man in the mirror to see the world with him. 
During the whole year with Wilbur in his pockets, Tommy has entered as many foster homes and left as much. It was embarrassing every time he was sent back to the orphanage, a reminder of his failure to reach a family’s vision of a perfect child.
Whenever the night is cold and dark with little sobs wrecking his small body, Wilbur would urge him to bring a spoon beside him, his eyes darkened with defeat and sadness as he whispered into his ears, offering warmth with his words till Tommy falls soundly asleep, a silent wish of feeling a phantom touch caressing his cheeks supporting the man’s comforting voice.
The whole year with Wilbur felt like magic, a stream of light after years of darkness and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Tommy wanted nothing more but to stay with his brother figure, although he wouldn’t say it out loud.
But today seems like a different kind of day.
On the morning before his 11th birthday, Tommy found himself staring at a new reflection on the mirror.
But unlike the gloomy cloud on top of Wilbur, this man had an aura of danger oozing off of his mildly muscular body, wide shoulders draped in white silk long sleeves and a beige pair of trousers hiding his well-toned thighs with a long, horizontal scar crossing his nose bridge and ending under his nonchalant eyes to boot.
He oozes nothing but pure masculinity.
Only if he didn’t wear those stupid rectangular glasses and had long bubblegum pink hair then he would’ve been truly intimidating.
The epitome of scary.
“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?!” 
11 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 1 year
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Thorned Exhales
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Pairing: Namor of Talokan x Shuri
Summary: The people of Talokan believe in the concept of soulmates. However, even after years of this tradition, nobody has ever seen the result of an unaccepted mate moreso, a fated partner who's another species from you until their King met the Wakandan Princess, Shuri.
Words: 2.4k
Tags: Stubborn Namor, Hanahaki Disease AU, Soulmate AU, Namor flirts with Shuri to change the subject lmao, Blood, Post-Canon.
had a random thought one day and wrote it down. It's not everyone's cup of tea but they fit the scenario better.
The people of Talokan believe in the concept of soulmates. 
After ingesting the luminescent flower their ancestors crushed centuries ago, the remnants of the petals sometimes resonate with another part of it from someone's stomach. And when it does, it forms a soulmate bond.
It activates the moment a Talokanil sees their fated mate for the first time and then they shall go through the typical period of courting, offering their hunts, fetching the shiniest and prettiest conch shell or giving out crystals found in the deep sea.
However, even after years of this tradition spiralling around their country, nobody has ever seen the result of an unaccepted mate moreso, a fated partner who's another species from you.
A violent hacks of coughs echoed in the empty hall as Namor faltered in his step, the burn on his lungs fresh and agonising with every wheeze. 
Everything hurts, from his throat, his chest and even down to his abdomen. Yet even then, he smiled at his cousin who stood beside him, worry marrying her face while he hacked his guts out.
There was something lodging itself at the back of his air pipe restricting his ability to breathe, even with no more coughs to bark out he continued, the apparent block in his throat a nuisance for such a busy day.
Then that's when he saw it.
In his palm lies a pretty blue petal, glowing lightly under the bioluminescent lights above them. It looked soft and innocent with its color and texture, only if it didn't have blood staining half of it.
Namora gasped beside him, her hands reaching to stop his palms from closing.
"K'uk'ulkan, this is a matter to be taken seriously."
It was, without a doubt, an important matter to discuss with the council. But if word spreads about their king weakening after their fight with the surface dwellers, it might spark a war between them and their reluctant ally. Not to mention, the possibility of bold fiends who'd dare challenge him for the throne.
The moment the petal fell into his palm, Namor knew it was best to keep it hidden for now.
He can't afford losing the only alliance they have, can't risk the only connection he has with her.
Closing a fist, he turned to her with a small smile. "A single petal won't hurt me, child."
"But this is not a mere common disease. This stems from the flower our ancestors—"
Namor stood up straight, crushing the petal in his grasp before disposing of it on the side as if it offended him personally and disrespected his mother. 
He couldn't deny his cousin's claims because he, too, grew concerned for his well-being after seeing him spit out a bloodied petal. It wasn't unusual for him to get sick as he catches a cold every century at least so he paid no heed to his coughs before. Turned a blind eye to the relentless tug of string at the back of his mind leading him into the direction where the Black Panther herself is.
He has felt the unusual tightness and heaviness on his chest ever since he met the noble princess of Wakanda's gaze full of hatred and felt her bloodthirst from outside the ruined throne room. One of the factors that helped her win against him at the beach.
He realised many things in that one moment, where she held his spear over her head, ready to take his life. Yet the biggest conclusion out of them all was his soul being tethered to hers.
The soulmate bond is nothing but a distracting one, he always thinks as he watches everyone around him become fools on chains following the hymn of the ocean. Drawn like the crew of the ship walking into the sea to pursue the sirens' sweet lullabies.
Everyone thinks he's immune to the soulmate bonds due to his godship, imagine their shock once they find out who he's tethered to.
"My king, you must inform the council of this! We must find a cur—"
It was a relief that all of Talokan knows not of the consequences of being rejected by their soulmate but if his cousin continued to nag, it won't take long for somebody to realize the secret he wishes to keep.
No one must know that his soul hooked itself with the Panther of the surface.
Namor brings a finger to her lips. "Not a word of this encounter shall escape between us."
"But—"
"It is unprecedented, yes, but I am a god who has lived for hundreds of years, I will not die from a simple illness."
Nobody has ever seen the results of a mate being rejected in all of those five hundred years Talokan has existed, much less than a Talokan's soul being tethered to a human. This event is something to be written down for research, to be overjoyed for, but with the life of their king involved, not a soul would rejoice.
Namor didn't want his cousin to feel pity for him nor did he want her to worry, so he kept his other symptoms hidden away.
He smiled at her, his pink bottom lips stained with crimson and Namora's body prickled with goosebumps, the crease between her eyebrows deepening.
He reaches to iron them down with his thumb, there was no use for worrying for him. As he said before, he has lived through wars and famine throughout those five centuries of living, a petal won't kill a god.
"Believe in your king, I am alright."
He launches into another hacking fit and Namora could only stand and run her hand up and down his back. She doesn't shed tears often, she's a soldier and the king's closest aid, she wasn't allowed to show weakness for the fear of disappointing Namor.
But for this one time, she let a single droplet fall from her eyes. 
"Aiii, what did I say about worrying about me?" He says, voice hoarse from sore throat as he wiped her tears away.
"Talokan can't bear the loss of its king, I cannot think of a future where you don't get to lead it."
He laughed but was abruptly stopped by a couple of coughs. "I'll be fine, child. Don't cry, I will not die of any illness."
He repeated them to console the woman but in truth, he was also convincing himself. Namor didn't like the mystery of his illness, scared of it even but like any other hardships he has went through, he'll live.
With that, Namor continues down the hall leaving his cousin alone in the corridor, staring at his retreating back. Wide shoulders that used to look firm whenever she stared at it at every battle were now slumping as his body shook with another fit.
Namora felt helpless, stuck between following her king's orders of not uttering a single word of his condition outside the two of them and running to their reluctant ally, Wakanda, for help.
Their technologies are more advanced than any other nation, despite both having access to vibranium, it was them who handled and mastered the ore to aid them and fit it to satiate their nation's needs.
With the brain of the current Black Panther, Namora is sure she'd find help and medicine for her king from the princess. 
Other than her pride and loyalty as a Talokanil getting shattered by telling their previously-enemy nation of their king's illness, Namor's orders weighed on her shoulders like chains connected to the ground, his words are concrete, she had no choice but to follow his whims. 
But once it all becomes too grim, Namora pledged to herself to shed all pride and approach the princess for help.
She stayed silent, trusting her leader a little more as she guarded him whenever he performed his daily task of patrolling the borders and when he surfaced to meet the royalties of Wakanda to discuss their reluctant alliance and the Americans continued threats on the nation and its resources.
‘‘Why can’t we attack their vehicles before they enter Wakandan territory? Or eliminate the whole country altogether to remove the headache once and for all?” Namor suggested nonchalantly as he sat comfortably on the cushioned seats of the new throne room, paying no mind to the stink eyes he received from the other royals.
The Wakandan King scowled. "Why do we even bother inviting you in here when all your mouth can spout is war?”
Shuri waved M’baku off. “Let us not fight here like childrens. We need a solution as soon as possible. I don’t think agent Ross can—”
Then the most horrible chances happened and Namor started coughing violently. Namora arose to her feet in muted panic and in a blink, she’s supporting his body that shook with his coughs, standing in between him and the eyes of the panther if he ever barked petals once more.
This earned the Wakandan royalties’ attention, eyebrows knitting as they awaited for him to calm down. But when it relented after a few seconds passed, Shuri spoke up with her eyebrows knitted.
“Namor, do you need medical help? I can fix you up in my lab.”
But the feathered serpent king waved her worries off. His ribs constricting around his laboured heart at the call of his second name, he has never minded the use of it until it was the Wakandan princess who uses it. His heart throbs as he's once reminded of her distaste for him.
If only he wasn't driven by anger, he wouldn't have to suffer as much as he does now.
He coughed out another bloodied petal and he closed his palm around it, thankful for Namora's body blocking their sight. They mustn’t know.
“There is nothing to worry about here, princess.” He grinned. “Iron that creases between your eyebrows. If not, I would start mistaking it as your concern for me.”
Instantly, the princess’ worried expression crumpled into disgust and he laughed boisterously, an ache in his chest resurfaced and launching him into a small fit. He rose to his feet, not noticing how worry graced Shuri’s face once more as he wiped the blood from his lips discreetly.
But he wasn't fast enough when the smell of iron reached Shuri’s sharp nose and the hair on her nape stood at attention, no doubt alerted by it.
She wasn’t foreign to its smell and the symptoms the Talokan king displayed, if anything, she thinks he caught the same sickness her brother had. Seeing the concern from her face, King M’Baku spoke up from beside her.
“Are you sure you don’t need our aid?”
“I am worried about those coughs, I can smell the blood from here, Namor.” Shuri added.
He froze. Of course, the panther could smell it.
He doesn’t want to discuss his well-being further, he needs to retreat back into the ocean with Namora, the pain blooming in his chest almost unbearable as it shears another long line into his chest, its seams burning deep into his lungs.
“It’s been months already, princess. How about calling me by my real name?”
Shuri groaned. “By Bast’s name—”
“We are thankful for your offer but we must get going.” Namora butts in, foreseeing the path the current conversation will take. A frustrating scene of push and pull between a stubborn princess who only wants to help and a stubborn king who doesn't want it.
With a bow from her, she subtly held up Namor as they exited the throne room.
The apparent worry and panic in her face wasn’t missed by their allies. When M’baku heard the mention of blood, despite all of the horrors their reluctant ally had rained upon their nation, he felt uneasy for letting him off when they knew the symptoms all too well since it was the same illness that took their previous king, T’Challa.
The Feathered Serpent god might've cost their previous Queen's life and destroyed their city but they're merely humans who felt sympathy for others, an ugly feature of their mortality no matter what angle Shuri looks at it.
The princess doesn’t know how to react. She should be overjoyed at the timed life her mother’s murderer has yet here she is, worried beyond belief. Shuri could see the wicked grin N'Jadaka is giving her from the ancestral plane, could feel it even and her blood pressure arose once more.
She doubted her ancestors and the late queen would be enthusiastic to hear such a thing from her. 
“Are you sure you smelled blood from him?”
She turned to M’baku. “Yes, it worries me.”
If the man was surprised at her admission, he didn’t express it, nodding soundlessly instead as he stood up from his throne, taking his staff with him.
“Let us watch where it’ll lead us for now, it seems that god doesn't want us to meddle. But I am sure that cousin of his will soon find us if anything were to happen."
Shuri couldn't find it in herself to deny his words yet the worry settled deep in her gut remained unmoved. She massaged her fingers as she stared at the setting sun outside floor to ceiling glass panes behind the throne, thoughts muddled with possibilities and needless worries.
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winterzsurprise · 1 year
Text
My Companion, My Friend, TUB30 || Clingyduo
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Characters: Tommyinnit, Tubbo.
Words: 1.8k
Summary: After the tragedy that took Tommy's brother away, he isolated himself. Not wanting his son to be a hermit for the rest of his life, fatherinnit created him an android companion.
Tags: Detroit Becomes Human AU!, Android! Tubbo, Sad Tommyinnit, Inaccurate therapy session, one-shot, minor character death, allusions to car crash.
I haven't written in so long oml but here's an old android AU before I post the SBI one eventually, fuck college honestly. The class purge started, two of us dropped just last night lmao.
Tik!
Tok!
Tik!
Tok!
He grumbled beneath his breath, irritated by the echoing sounds of the grandfather clock placed at the corner of the ivory room. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair, the bass intensifying with every passing second.
He can't believe he's not in his room doing his homework at the moment, not even his phone is available during this hour-long session, it was getting into his nerves. He looked around, mindlessly bouncing his legs. The silence was deafening, it's so uncomfortable, he just wants the ground beneath him to open and swallow him up, never to part again.
"Mr Soot, do I still have your attention?"
"Do I have any other choice?" The silence that followed made him shift in his seat, bringing up one leg to rest on top of the other before continuing its previous action of jumping.
The lady sitting on the opposite chair let out a sigh before pushing the frames of her glasses up from the tip of her nose, writing who-knows-what on her tablet.
This is pointless, his parents thought that he would be better if he talks to a professional but he thinks it was useless, why did they expect him to talk to someone when he himself can't find the memory bearable enough for him to write down and burn.
Something he has told him to do before.
Scribble every nagging thought on a piece of parchment then get rid of them by fire or ripping them into shreds.
"Have you been having nightmares for the past seven days?"
"Yes."
"Could you tell me what it's about?" This made him look at her, averting his eyes from the renaissance painting on the wall.
"You know what this is about. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."
"No I don't, care to enlighten me?" She looked up from the tablet, barely affected by the incredulous look he was sending her.
"My parents must've told you about it."
"It is better to hear it coming from you." She paused, putting her tablet down on her lap. "After all you are my patient."
He scowled at that but after a few beats of silence, he let out a deep sigh before a hand reached up to rub his cheeks before ending up with the other pair on his bouncing leg, entangling itself with each other.
"It's about..." Three weeks in therapy and he couldn't find it in himself to say it.
"It's... It's about my uhm..."
"What is it about?"
"Shut up, I'm trying my best but uh... It's just hard to say." He explained, tears blurring his vision as the memory played in his mind like a broken record, breaking his heart with every repetition of the horrible event.
He watched as the older lady shifted in her seat to cross a leg on top of the other. He averted his gaze and focused it on the space beside the short leg of her office table, he let out an awkward chuckle as he chewed on his bottom lip.
Come on, just say it, Tommy. It's not that difficult to tell her.
"Well?"
"It's about..." There was a lump on his throat making him clear his throat, hand reaching up to his hair to push it back.
He needs this day to just end and finally go home to get some sleep.
"My-My brother."
"What is with your brother that made him a character in your nightmares?"
He could still hear the skid of the tires and the sound of the glass breaking, it made him flinch at how clear they can be heard. His weakly uttered words floating around his mind like a broken record that he's unable to stop even if he tried searching for the damaged item.
His wounds from the accident might have been healed but he doesn't think the damage on his heart would be fixed,
Someday probably but not today.
"We-we got into a..." He looked back at the woman with a wince.
"Do I really have to say it?"
"It is needed."
"Why?" He found it pathetic to cry. He doesn't want to tear up anymore he has done a lot of those for the past weeks.
The look that she gave him made him want to throw a tantrum and bring chaos into this neat office but he can't even blame her for just doing her job.
"We-we got into a ca..."
"Could you please say that again just a tad louder?"
"You heard it, don't make me repeat it please."
"No, I did not, my apologies." She replied. The sigh that slipped past her lips made him repeat it.
It was low, a whisper in the wind. But it was enough for her catch and jot down into her notes, satisfied she has reached a new milestone with his case.
-*-*-*-
"You really need to give Mrs Coulson a chance, she just wants to help." His mother's voice chimed from the front but he barely paid her any mind to continue staring off into the distance.
The woman let out a heavy sigh before cranking up the volume of the radio, the sound of the piano filled the area along with the loud pelts of the rain on the car roof.
He thinks it was really pointless to keep spending money on therapy for him. It took weeks for the poor lady to finally have something to properly report to his parents, he felt bad for her for having a stubborn client.
"When we get home, I want you to go directly to the living room. Your father..." She paused, trying the right word to say. "Has a gift for you."
Tommy knitted his eyebrows at that, confused why he's receiving a gift in the middle of Autumn far from Christmas and even more, his birthday.
The old man has locked himself in his laboratory for the past two weeks, burying himself in work and constant experiments that would wake up the whole house after an explosion or his panicked screaming because he accidentally set something on fire. It felt good that he was able to make way for him.
"What is it? Is there something to celebrate?"
"No, he just wants to give you something that's all."
Definitely NOT suspicious at all mother dearest.
And for the rest of the ride, Tommy spent the whole duration of driving back home staring at the wet and foggy window. Mind travelling into whatever topic that would slide into his thoughts, trying his best to stop thinking about the accident that happened almost a month ago. 
It was an unfortunate event, it's been quite a long time since it occurred yet the guilt still resides inside him. He didn't even know if he should be mad or be sad, to mourn or to punish himself for what he has done that caused the misfortune, he would always hope that his brother would forgive him for it.
Tommy, you're drifting away again. Think about brownies and rainbows.
He scoffed at that, Who am I kidding, go and ponder about archery and music.
He was occupied by his own thoughts that he barely made a move until he started to get familiar with the passing images of the village they were in.
If someone is a world-known scientist and inventor in this age and era, one is bound to receive a lot of benefits and riches from their product. And his father was one of the creators of the first fully-functioning android in this world, the demands of his company's product were so large that Tommy thought he could probably pass the wealth down for two generations, maybe less.
He shuffled in his seat and turned to the front when he saw the vehicle about to park into the garage. He blinked for a moment, mind processing what was happening in front of him before he reached for the fallen strap of his backpack, placing it back to his shoulder while the door slid automatically when he made a motion of turning towards the exit.
His mother reached to the passenger's seat for a translucent umbrella, he didn't even wait for her to leave the vehicle when he stepped out and made his way to the front door not minding that he was getting drenched by the heavy rain, ignoring his mother's call for his name.
It's just liquid, how could it harm him?
He just wants everything to be done with and catch some rest. Finally fade into unconsciousness that won't be guaranteed to stay peaceful because of his reoccurring nightmares.
This is child abuse, they should just let me sleep.
The mahogany doors parted open and he was greeted with the warm colours of the hall. A golden crystalline chandelier hung from the ivory ceiling, there was a curved staircase up to another floor but he paid no mind to it and continued straight to another double door that opened only to be greeted by, Athena, the human housekeeper, worry plastered on her face as she rushed to remove his jacket.
"You should've waited for your mother, now you got all wet!" Tommy just kicked off his shoes and placed them on the baby blue shoe rack, the walls of an empty tier dispersing as he did so, closing again as he retreated his hand.
"Father, what is it that you want to show me?" He yelled out as he rounded the couch and threw himself into the soft cushion.
He winced as the sound of glass breaking erupted from the kitchen, Athena rushed to the next room, scared of the thought of the man damaging half of the plates and priceless china teacups given by his own grandfather. Tommy thought it was unusual for her to stay here, she should be home by now since everyone has arrived with her job of watching over the house done marvellously.
Kind of ironic that one of the creators of android is hiring a human to take care of his home. Tommy doesn't know what his father's thought process is behind it, neither does his brother or mother has any clue why.
"Wait for a moment, I'll be out in a sec!"
Tommy pulled out his phone to check if anyone bothered to message him, he felt disappointed when he saw none. His friends suddenly disappeared after the burial and it made him feel like they only talked to him for his popular brother. He let out a sigh before closing the device again, he stared back at his reflection, taking the time to observe his haggard self.
He reached up to pull down the dark bags under his eye before poking his cheeks that have lost their colour and fluffiness.
"Alright Tomster, you can look up now."
Tommy placed the phone down on his jeans and looked up to see a young face rudely protruding on his personal bubble. Blue glowing eyes that turned yellow made him let out a squeal and jump back, reaching the pillow behind him as a shield against whoever came up to him.
"Tommy, this is your android, model TUB30."
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winterzsurprise · 2 years
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A deal with a demon || Quackity
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Pairing: c!Quackity x Gender-Neutral!Reader
Summary: Instead of dispelling a royal blooded demon like you were tasked to, you listened to his tempting deal.
Tags: Action, Demon Duke! Quackity, Priest! Reader, not beta-read.
Words: 3.2k
not much to say here, I recycled a scene from the 'Greed's Temptation' draft. I'm aware I haven't posted for a month but I got so busy with college, commissions and writer's block. This is an old writing style so look away for a moment :''DD
thank you all for 110 followers and for waiting patiently, I swear, the moment my writer's block stops, I will finish Unholy.
“Villagers said that there were cloaked figures that would meet up at the outskirt hut for unknown reasons, we speculate that the demon spawning was their doing.” 
You nod as the village leader leads you down the deserted part of town with the roofless houses and soot kissed walls, every plant in the area painted brown and black, wilted from the amount of dark energy feeding off of their life force.
Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking note of the smallest details like the fading footprints on the unpatched dirt and the dark energy that seems to grow stronger with every step taken, the stench of death becoming more apparent as you near the thick fog that the crowd could never see in a million years.
But despite that, you could barely feel any fear crawling inside you. The magic felt familiar to you for unknown reasons, a tempting mist that kept on reaching out for you despite the distance you have from the source.
At the edge of your eye, you see the priest beside you squirm uncomfortably with eyes jumping from one point to another with hands fidgeting on his maroon cassocks, entirely different from the classic white uniform of Valor, since he's stationed in this town.
Jack wasn't supposed to come but upon seeing a close friend approach a huge threat, he couldn't help himself from tagging along.
 You met the priest when he was training to be one in Valor, head never full with hair and eyes still filled with wonder and life as he was as a child. He was your first mission, to train him the special ways of expelling demons as a high rank can.
“Are you sure you don’t require our mage’s help? Demons are nasty creatures to deal with, my grand dad who served in the great wall said they were the most nefarious bunch he has ever encountered.”
The priest beside me bristles, offended. “You think our Cardinal is weaker than a low ranked demon?!” 
The leader opened his mouth to apologise when you raised your hand that led all to a halt and pulled their attention to you in question. 
There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere that told you to enter alone, the mist covering the area thickening with power as their snapping whips became lethal from neutral, normal humans cannot withstand such a violent energy.
Even your dear friend would collapse a second inside the mist.
“I must continue alone, the dark magic is near-deadly from this point forward.” 
“But little prince—”
“Would you rather meet your maker a century earlier, Mr. Manifold?” You cut him off and that made the older man go silent.
Not even bothering to hear them out, you head on through the invisible barrier that separates you from the others, like how being a High Priest gave you more mortality years than the usual humans with better healing abilities and supernatural senses. 
In a few days time, you’ll be pronounced as the next Pope, sitting on the golden throne at the top peak of Mount Lenneth, hidden away in the pristine temple populated by corrupted ‘holy’ soldiers and priests.
You didn’t want it but what input do you have in his grand scheme of things?
The dark magic got aggressive as you near the empty plot of land at the end of the road where the supposed-to-be straw hut was erected, you felt the onyx mist attempt to penetrate through the shield you coated yourself in, their apprehensiveness to approach now nonexistent as you arrive in your destination.
Lumps covered in black robes scattered the ground which you assumed were the suspicious group the village leader was talking about earlier, but upon closer inspection, you find yourself staring at hollow holes of skulls with the mandible bone hanging open as if their souls were sucked out from their mouths. 
Their flesh and insides might be the reason why the dark magic turned deadly, but seeing the small amount of bodies laid on the area, you thought otherwise.
Was this a work of a high ranked demon?
Your head darts up with your eyes immediately landing on an empty space in the middle of the plot where a fading master-level summoning circle was drawn with chalk. Seeing how the body placements are, you guessed that they must’ve known that their spell went wrong and ran, but the demon responsible for this was faster than them.
But with the lone body near the illustration and the faint grey magic by the circle, you knew that someone was smart enough to restrain the demon before it got worse.
With a sigh, you removed the glowing beads in your neck to start your cleansing spell. You placed the accessory between your thumb and pointer finger before crossing both sides and putting it over your wrist like a bracelet, wrapping it twice before turning to the barely-visible grey box floating on top of the circle. 
With a large inhale to home your energy, you start to mutter the spell.
"Iリ⍊╎ᓭ╎ʖꖎᒷ ᓭ!¡ᒷꖎꖎ ᓵᔑᓭℸ ̣ ᒷ↸ ᒲᔑ|| ↸╎ꖎᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ↸"
It didn’t take long when the effect took place, you sensed the dark magic being siphoned back by its’ owner as the invisible glass shatters and freed the evil spirit from its confines. The dark energy attempted to take a bite at your skin but with the glowing bead resting in your left hand, you were untouchable.
You watched the dark magic manifest into a body that soon formed into a man that grew obsidian hair and was clothed in a dark green vest with a white long sleeve shirt underneath. Golden yellow wings sprouted from his back, they were filled with feathers. The sight of it injecting disgust into your veins.
There's no other metaphysical kind you know other than angels, to see feathered wings from a demon, lit a fire within you.
You prepare your spell as he comes back to his consciousness. Eyes closed and concentration zoned in the power pulsating through your veins, trying to direct it to the tips of your pointy and middle fingers.
You heard a shuffle in front of you and knew his form was fully developed, sweat beads at your forehead at the thought of battling such a high ranking demon. 
He groaned dramatically. “Come on, I just got out of that box prison! Am I getting on a new one now?”
"E⍊╎ꖎ ʖᒷ⊣𝙹リᒷ, ⍑𝙹ꖎ╎リᒷᓭᓭ ᓭ⍑ᔑꖎꖎ ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷ"
A girlish squeal left his lips as he narrowly dodged the swipe of your fingers charged with holy power enough to banish him back to the land below. Your eyes found his bewildered pair of crimson, face contorted with a look of disbelief.
“Come on, I just got out!”
“I don’t care.” 
With that, you crossed the small distance between you two and took another chance to swing your hand which he deflected with his own magic in the form of a huge hand fan coated in black.
“How could you banish someone you just met?! This is inhumane!”
You didn’t respond as you transferred the energy to your other fingers to slash him as soon as you pulled the fan down from his face. Another move that barely kissed his skin since he leaped back, you watch his movements attentively, not letting a small twitch of a brow or arm go amiss.
He must be eradicated quickly.
“Wait, did you just understand me?” He asked, suddenly realising in the midst of the battle.
You stayed in your spot, recharging as he stood up, eyes still round with surprise as he held out both hands in surrender. 
During this, you took note of the raging dark mist that smothered his body in a protective manner, his power is definitely stronger than the usual lower rank demons that would often possess a few dwellers in the neighbouring cities and kingdoms. 
He’s a high ranking type but you’re not sure how high he is in the hierarchy.
“Can you just let me off just this once?! I need to track someone down! He's stronger than me!” He exclaimed, crouching on the chipped off brick wall.
“And why should I listen to you, demon?”
His head tilts, bewildered. “Wow, you really can understand me.”
"Enough!" A ball of light grew in your palm and you hauled it towards him, which he easily evaded by jumping off to the opposite wall.
"If you're a priest you'd listen to me! There's a mystic ranked demon who escaped the Limbo!"
You tilt your head, what a coincidence that he left the Limbo and suddenly there's a powerful demon running amok doing god-knows-what in the overworld. You could only scoff as your powers pulsed in your palms.
"A mystic ranking on the loose huh?"
"Yeah, he was the King's brother!" He said with the edge of his mouth tugged up that rubbed you wrongly.
He's definitely lying.
Why would he tell you such information if not to distract and defeat you?
"Quite convenient, isn't it?"
"Wha—" He barely had the chance to react when your fingers touched the space between his eyebrows, the contact was enough to launch him back to the far corner of the plot.
You approach him with your power still generating in your hands, you have to deal with him fast if he is the escaped prisoner from the Limbo.
You watched as he rose from the ground with barely a stutter in his movements, he was indeed a powerful being if he didn't even suffer any injuries from that hit. He's dangerous, and he needs to be eradicated immediately.
"I am telling you the truth!"
And you don't care.
You charged towards him, and barely a metre away from him with a charged hand ready to slam his face into the ground. But in a fleeting second before you could raise your limbs to attack, he reached for your face instead and redirected you to pummelled to the floor.
The ground around you dents with his strength and pain erupted from every part of your body but it was minimised by the holy power that you coated it with, still it was an agonising feeling that blazed your skin.
With the damage you suffered along with the infected cut in your shoulder blades, you wonder if your bloody training had any worth if a high ranking demon was able to take you down with a single hit.
You're still not enough.
"Listen to me for a moment, alright?! I don't even want to talk to you but it's needed!"
"Why should I?" You ask, trying to divert his attention as you heal yourself.
You suspect that he noticed the shift in your energy with how trained his eyes on your body. Something you confirmed when his eyes rolled back, irritated.
You were ready to hasten up the healing process but with how unbothered he appeared, you continued with the slow pace. Him doing nothing felt insulting, does he think that you're not worth his time?
How rude and unforgivable!
"Just give me ten seconds to explain who I am and how I am here."
You didn't speak, internally counting down from ten, waiting for his explanation that never came but his face did scrunch as he realises what was happening.
"Wait… Are you counting already?"
"..."
He let out a defeated sigh, shoulders sagging.
"I am looking for someone in the overworld, our King has declared a national search for this demon and the reward is very handsome, so can you help me find the bastard?"
There was an uncomfortable silence that hung above you both as you just stared back at each other, trying to work out the other's motive. But after a while, you opened your mouth to speak.
"Why did you surface now? Why not months before?!"
"The rules of the Limbo is a headache, I was only able to travel here when I got summoned." 
The rule he spoke of is the law the god, XD or Xeno, has created for the high ranking demons. They can't travel out of the Limbo unless they were summoned by someone from the overworld.
Touché
"Why should a child of Light help you, a demon?" You question, eyes narrowing at him.
"Because I can easily repel the other bad spirits since I am a high ranking demon."
"I can banish them just fine, I don't need your help." You said as you rose to sit up in excellent condition, surprising the man.
"That was fast, are you a high priest? No regular priest can withstand such power."
"There is nothing to gain from this deal, so shut up and go home." You threw a punch that packed most of your energy.
Even with that, the demon in front of you caught your fist as if he was breathing. Eyes now lidded with boredom as he grumbled inaudibly, tremors rattled down your spine as you were slapped with the realisation of how huge your power difference was.
Even with half of your power, he was able to stop your fist.
You have never felt so small cornered by its natural predator until now.
"Can't we have a normal conversation? I really am trying to talk but instead you threw your fist."
"What did you expect? Do you want me to worship the ground you stand on?"
The demon's face soured, disturbed by the idea. "Ew, don't bother. Just listen to me."
You studied his face now that he's closer. His eyes were painted red like the seed of the ripest pomegranate, black iris narrowed like a cat and thin lips shaded coral and subtle stubbles dotting his jawline.
"What do I even gain from this?"
"Knowledge about the Limbo and demons."
You narrowed your eyes on him. "Isn't there a bounty on the Dark King's brother?"
His mouth cracked to a smile. "That's all for me, it's in our currency."
"Can't I have just a penny?"
"Nope, I made a vault for that reward because I'm confident I can catch him." He spoke with an arrogant grin, you scoffed.
"Then you don't need my help."
"I need your power to do damage, dark magic doesn't hurt those who are familiar with it."
That doesn't make sense, you can't even wound this man in front of you, how does he expect you to help him dispel a legendary demon?
As if he read your mind, he turned to your fist in his palm. 
"I'm just putting a lot of energy on that palm, you're actually dealing a lot of damage."
Your eyes widened, turning to your fist before draining away more of your energy to force into your fist, a sharp hiss escaped his lips and you withdrew the rest of your strength.
"That hurts, please appreciate that I am trying my best to communicate."
He is indeed trying, and you commend him for that. Not to mention, the amount of dark magic he's inserting on one part seems limitless.
You would lose with your diminishing mana if you tried to fight him now. So there's only one way out of here.
You unconsciously bit your bottom lip, while the riches were out of question. The knowledge you'd possibly gain from this interaction would be far more valuable, the temple can pass it down to the next generation to help aid the mortals in their fight against the demons.
Would the High Priest agree to such an offer?
"So there's a different demon on the loose?" You inquired and relief flushed the demon's face, his hold on your knuckles loosening and you let it fall to your side.
"So, you're gonna help me out?"
You're not, but if it makes this man leave the overworld, then you'll take the chance. If you couldn't take this man down when you have already reached the divine holiness of the High Priest, then there's no other choice.
You don't trust any of his words but if it gets him back to Limbo, then you'll follow along.
Demons can never stay long in the overworld afterall. It's not worth the conflict it'll cause everyone.
"What can he do? I'm sure I can handle him quickly."
"Sure you can handle him, you were down just with one hit from me."
Your pointed stare at him made him facepalm in disappointment. 
Good to know he's aware of offending you.
"We can work together, I can teach you everything the Limbo has and then I get my money afterwards, it sounds like a fair deal, doesn't it?"
You stared at him with that blank look in your eyes once more before letting your arms hang on your side as you sigh. If you're going with a demon of his level, you should at least know the basic details about him.
"What kind of high rank are you?"
He raised an eyebrow as he smirked teasingly.
"Why would you wanna know?"
"If I'm helping someone, shouldn't I at least know who they are?" You said as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, the deadpanned look in your face making him laugh lightly.
The demon then placed a hand on his heart and bent to a 90° angle before straightening up to introduce himself.
"I am Duke Quackity, competitor for a seven deadly sins title." 
Your eyes widened at the revelation for a brief moment before ironing it back to an absent look. The journals back home have never indicated any other sins other than Wrath and Pride. This would be a good study and a trophy to show off if you do this right.
The priests will kiss the land you walk on if all goes well.
"Which one of the sins?"
He chuckled. "Couldn't you have guessed it from our conversation earlier, priest?"
Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as your mind tracked your conversation with the demon a few minutes ago. He mentioned building a vault for the reward their king has prepared for the victor.
"Is it Greed?"
"Bingo, I'm glad that you're not all brawn, little priest!"
You shouldn't be talking to demons, the looming voice at the back of your head increasing in their volume as you continue to interact with him but it was for the sake of knowledge.
It was a great chance to learn more about the system down in the limbo, you could squeeze every info this big-mouthed demon to pass on to the future generations. He doesn’t seem to mind telling you tales if you asked. 
This is a good learning opportunity.
And a chance to escape the temple even for a few days, a voice mumbled in your head that you pushed back as soon as it was uttered, weight settled in your guts as another sound joined in, insisting for an apology.
But for the alliance to work and make sure no soul can sniff his water dam-like power in a crowd of ponds and pitchers. Glancing at the beads wrapped snug on your wrist, an idea formed.
"I'm going to help you but on one condition."
This is a mistake.
You should take him out while he's unguarded.
"Shoot." 
Stop, what will his holiness say?
"I need to cut your power in half temporarily, I can't have your dark magic changing everyone around you."
"You promise to not banish me as soon as it's on?" He asked, eyes trained on the beads you are removing from your wrist.
"Yes."
You need to banish him this instant! His holiness will be furious!
"Then chain me up, Cardinal."
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winterzsurprise · 2 years
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Unholy Teaser! || Karl Jacobs
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Pairing: c!Karl Jacobs x Reader
Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.
Tags: Priest! Karl, probably inaccurate ways of how the church goes, dirty thoughts, definitely pwp, and spoiler alert, more unholy things to do with holy water, the rosary and the altar (probably, let's see how it goes).
Words: 448 (future work will prolly surpass 3k)
Inspirations: Priest by Sierra Simone, that priest guy from the manwha Stepmother's Marchen, and Sam Smith's Unholy
Release Date: Unknown
I'd be lying if I said I posted this teaser to see if people are interested and definitely NOT because I want to get pressured to finish this, nopeee definitely not. There's three drafted smut plots with c!George and c!Sapnap, I have to at least finish one of them pls :''DD
Archive
-•-•-•-
The wind howling against the corners of the church is always followed by the most insufferable nights, Karl observed. It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, spewing their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the wall.
It was always their infertility, either a far-away admiration/lusting situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens, they marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.
Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.
But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favorite food on the table or at the sight of you.
Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.
It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how gentle yet sensual you are.
It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.
Your vanilla scent tantalizes him, taunting his hands bounded by the rosary to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.
Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your shocked face that’ll soon crumple into an expression of unadulterated pleasure.
As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue.
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winterzsurprise · 2 years
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Blue Innocence I || Bedrock Duo
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Characters: Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot (mentioned), Jack Manifold (allusions to him)
Summary: Every death leaves a legacy behind and his brother was no different from them, along with his journals and music sheets, Techno took upon the task of raising his brother’s adopted child, Tommy.
Tags: Blood, description of battles, monsters, character death, fantasy setting, Big and scary dad with sunshine incarnate son trope, typical cold manwha duke of the north but Techno, a sprinkle of angst, orphaned Tommy, Found Father and Son trope, not beta read we die like eddie munson :P, probably OOC ngl.
Words: 2.5k
Yes this is me coping, I haven't posted in a while and couldn't bring myself to continue my other wattpad creation lol. This might be a series of chapters ngl.
Constructive criticism are welcomed, I want to do better with my writing, other than that, enjoy! :DD
_________
How many deaths should befall these poor but innocent souls until they’re freed from the eternal punishment that his family should be shouldering alone?
Was it a crime for his kind to defend their lands and honour? It was unreasonable he's aware of that, he knows how heinous and bloody their path has been, but didn’t the humans strike the north first? So how come the dark elves are the only one facing the wrath of the gods?
In the heaps of disfigured bodies and disconnected limbs, Techno stood in the middle of everything with his head hung low and a dark expression on his face as his grip on the handle of the sword tightened, threatening to break under his strength. 
The blizzard raged violently yet the falling whites could never cover up the crimson that stained the ground they would soon touch, the same vibrant hue that painted his skin and hair. The liquid warmed his cold skin; Techno had his skin painted with blood in his quarter of a millenia-long lifetime but never did blood feel revolting as it is now.
It's so cruel how his kind has turned into grotesque mobs that operated mindlessly, almost like reanimated corpses and to be honest, Techno would rather have them dead than thoughtless beasts continuously slain by the man supposed to protect them.
The waves of monsters outside the northern wall are unresting as they charge into the fortress. With their growing numbers that attempted to corrupt their country, anger surges in massive quantities to his veins as he watches them attack him without a single hesitation.
How can the gods be this cruel to their own creation?
“Sire?”
A pre-pubescent voice cuts through his thoughts and Techno pulls his sword from a corpse, blood escaping in rapid succession, spilling and staining the snow-covered land in crimson once more. He heard the teen gag from behind him and he couldn’t feel more bad that he was caught in a disturbing situation.
“Did the butler command you here?”
“Yes, he wishes to relay a message to you.” He paused, seemingly hesitant. The silence that followed caught his attention. 
What kind of news is there that made this child nervous to tell me?
“Spill boy, the next wave is coming soon.”
After much hesitation, the young teen finally spoke up and never had Techno regretted asking for information. “The young master, Wilbur, has passed on”
________
The rampant patters of raindrops on the broad leaves erected on the wet soil, the heavy scent of the ground permeating into the air freely, invading anyone’s nose who stood vulnerable outside felt less offending than usual. 
The earth held onto healthy green grass and flowers big and small, contrasting the withering wreath of now grey lilies and sad chrysanthemums whose petals droop from the droplets and age.
The stone of the grave standing upright in the middle of the lot contrasted its surrounding yet fits perfectly amongst the other memorials.
It was funny that even as beings cursed to immortality, Wilbur passed on so easily that he almost thought of him as an imposter. How can a dark elf perish like a dandelion to a weak passing breeze?
“He was a good man, he helped me realise my potential as a tamer rather than a necromancer.” 
Techno couldn’t find it in himself to bother listening to the human mage with the semi-bald haircut beside him, his thoughts a hurricane rampaging and destroying everything it touches as his emotions whirled in his chest, constricting around his heart and deliberately crushing it as it lingered.
How could you leave me like this Wilbur?
How can I revive the honor of the dark elves now?
Ignoring the signal the silence he received meant, the man beside him lets out a sigh. “What are you going to do with the boy?”
Upon the death of his brother, his journals filled with his written memories of his adventures with the humans and scrapped lyrics and notes, Wilbur left Techno his last trace of existence, a small boy whose kind blue eyes glimmered with hope and childish innocence that planted a seed of discomfort deep in his guts the first time it glanced up at him a year ago.
That boy, how could he hold that amount of naivety in such a small body? Is he a saint or something closely celestial?
“That is something I’d rather not discuss with a stranger, I’ll take care of the boy as I see fit.”
The man scoffed before looking up at the dark elf, eyebrows knitting as he frowned. “I’m just concerned about Tommy, he doesn’t even know his father’s dead and that he’ll be living with his uncle from now on.” 
If Techno was any better dealing with challenges, he would have asked the human for advice but being battle hardened with centuries of experience pressing onto his existence, he stayed silent. He was dubbed with the most atrocious title that frightened every species to submission, blood god that’s what they call him.
A ferocious monster in the battlefield whose sword has been driven through many bodies that if piled up, would put the highest mountain to shame. A demon-incarnate with a terrifying apathy for lives as he slayed everyone that he crosses path with, nonchalance hidden behind a bone mask barely flinching at a passing death or unfortunate events.
“I shall head on my merry way, if you ever need help, I’ll be in the magic tower, it's the least I could lend for Wilbur's sake.”
The mage’s footsteps became a blur in the background like everything else around him, Techno felt slightly relieved as the man departed, leaving him alone with his brother or rather his headstone.
Wilbur’s passing came to him as a shiver that violently wrecked his body before the ache blossomed full in his chest, thorns of roses hugging his heart tight and letting it bleed. Techno, who was in the middle of a fight, froze as the invisible string that connected his life with his twin degraded.
The fresh scar that laid across his nose bridge was the first one he had in so long and he will hold the grudge on his twin for it.
At first, Techno was filled with disbelief and questions. How could a kind cursed by the divinities to immorality die? 
From one mouth to another, he found out that the valkyries above were sent down to deliver the mighty gods' punishment and  the poor victim happened to be his own blood, the sole remaining member of his family.
Soon enough, anger quickly washed away the denial and grief that flooded and overwhelmed his consciousness. 
Wilbur died protecting the measly human kid that was never his own in the first place, a mere orphan he took from a dying friend to fulfil her last will. The man perished trying to pick out the forbidden fruit on the tree of life, the only existing one that guarantees to heal every disease and restore a body to its greatest condition.
Why would you do something so idiotic, brother? How could you throw all reasoning and fetch something us, dwellers of the earth, can never hope to hold nor linger a stare at?
Techno’s hands itched to curl and drive itself to the nearest flesh it can sense, the anger that boiled his very being to his soul rampaging deeply inside of him. 
His eyes pierced through the six feet distance between him and the remains of his brother beneath him as he ran through scenarios of digging down and screaming his questions at the empty shell Wilbur used to be, flew around his head along with many others.
“I would trade my life for Tommy, my love for him knows no bounds. If it’s to keep the light in his eyes and the thrum of his heart, everything is possible.”
It was beyond an uncharacteristic action for the man who strategized to ruin a hundred empires built after centuries of hardship from the inside in a day or two, to act rashly; charging straight into the dark in panic like a headless chicken, not a single wit in a pinkie.
Techno could only deduce why his twin did what he did and it all leads back to the boy with the eyes colored with the innocence the clear blue sky held and its brightness.
-*-*-*-*-
Sickly pale skin with limbs so thin that even after putting them all side by side would not outsize Techno’s arm, little body covered in clothes tripled his actual size with his shirt hanging down his frame like a dress, his feet hidden by the puddle of the fabric of his pants. 
How can a child claimed to be catered fully by his adoptive father appear twig-like that if a simple breeze blows, he will fall to his hind? 
This isn't the Tommy he saw a year ago in that blossoming field under the white willow tree, that one was bright and sweats liquid gold and rainbows but the child sitting in front of him barely resembled the past with his downcast gaze and frail, an inch of muscle covering his bone.
How long was he left in the hands of a neglective human that Wilbur trusted to take care of his son that Tommy was reduced to a stickman?
It's despicable and boils his blood at the sight.
If I tried holding him, he'd probably crumble in pain even at my best attempts to be gentle.
Sadness oozed out of his eyes in droplets as he sniffled, every teardrop trailing down his cheek, the saint-like light that highlighted his blues long gone with the chilly wind of the north.
It striked an enraged emotion in Techno, seeing the child's sadness drip from his eyes like a waterfall somehow makes him want to go on another rampage.
The weight of the child’s tears sharpened and pierced through Techno's conscience like daggers as he sobbed silently by the large window sill, the overwhelming height of the abstract glass making him smaller as he curled close to his legs.
Techno has seen many children in the middle of fire and chaos in all of his years spent destroying kingdoms and towns, sobbing and crying for help to those who lived to hear it; orphaned and helpless in a heap of flame but not once has he mustered the sympathy to aid them, their pleads muted in his ears, he couldn’t muster the pity to aid an orphaned child.
Not until he saw Tommy curled to himself for comfort and warmth in his cold manor.
“Will dad be coming home today?” 
His voice heavily expressed his dismay yet held a hint of hope, eyes trained on the wooden statue of a werewolf beside the window, there’s an undeserved irritation that surfaced after hearing the glimmer of positivity in his voice. 
After sustaining horrible neglect from his previously assigned caretaker and with his father's sudden departure from his life, Techno couldn’t fathom how the child could retain such an emotion alive.
“Your dad will not—” The boy looked up at him with those eyes that held the night sky’s glittering stars with hope glossing over it, rendering Techno speechless as he held the child’s stare.
Suddenly, Techno is aware of the extreme gloominess that permeates the atmosphere of his house, his senses tenfold sensitive to the child’s every sniff and sharp inhale.
Guilt pricks and poked his heart with a dagger as he continued to bask under the light of the child’s look as he questioned himself:
Is it worth telling the truth in exchange for his sadness?
“Your father will not be joining us for tonight’s dinner nor will he appear in the approaching days.” Because he’s dead. 
But Techno couldn’t say that, there was an invisible restriction shackling him from ever uttering any truth to the child who held all the hope in his blue eyes. Wilbur would be livid and stirring in his coffin if he ever sensed his child’s grief and dejected aura; there’s no doubt that he already is.
“Why isn’t he coming home?”
“He’s running away from loan sharks.”
Tommy blanched and Techno mentally facepalmed. The kid must’ve thought of a legit shark with human legs running after his father with its jaw open to show his sharp mawlers gleaming with saliva.
Of course he wouldn’t know what a loan shark is, he’s a mere child what are you saying?!
“Will papa die?!”
“No no no, what I meant is uh…” Techno trails off, for the first time in centuries, he found himself speechless. How do you explain that to a child?!
“I-Is that why papa’s not coming home?”
Techno could only stare at the kid, stunned as he scrambled for words while his mind restarted. His silence only drove the kid off of his seat and ran to him, lithe arms wrapping around his leg as blue eyes glossed over with tears.
“Please save my papa!”
“I-I don’t mean a real shark, they can’t even live without water.” Techno spluttered, surprised the kid approached him even with their almost disturbing size difference. How is he not scared?
“Then what’s following papa?”
Death himself but you don’t know that. “Some angry people but Wilbur’s stronger than most so don’t worry about him.”
A knock cuts their conversation short as his butler, Steven, steps in the room. Posture regal and firm, salt and pepper ponytail lying comfortably on his shoulder, barely hiding the burn scar that stretched from his left shoulder to his high cheekbones.
At the sight of this, Tommy scrambled to hide behind Techno's cape, almost tripping on the pooling fabric as he did so.
"I see that you've met the young master's child."
"Can you assign a maid to bathe him? Is dinner being prepared yet?"
It was faint but Techno felt a tug on his cape, peering down at the child, he found him hiding as much as he could behind the adult. The butler let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Techno raised an eyebrow at him to which the man ignored as he reached into his pockets to pull out a poorly wrapped candy, most likely a caramel ball since that's the sole delicacy they have in the north.
With the harsh winter and hostile mob tribes surrounding it, their supplies are limited.
"Hello young master, do you like sweets?"
The child didn't speak nor did he move behind the burly man. This time, Techno let out a sigh before he bent down and gingerly picked Tommy up, suppressing most of his strength as he carried him.
Just one squeeze and he'd pop like a balloon.
Unaware of how to properly carry a toddler as he hasn't done such a thing yet in his hundreds years of life, Tommy hangs from Techno's outreached arm, to his butler's disappointment.
"Sire, you're supposed to let him sit on your forearm. You'll hurt him that way."
When the man made no move to change the way he’s holding the child, his butler took initiative by taking the toddler off of his hands and into his arms, handing over the candy as soon as he settled comfortably.
Techno couldn't help but stare at the child, slightly dejected as he saw Tommy nestled and got comfortable with his butler faster than he did to him, it was betrayal at its finest and innocent form; another first one after many years.
It seems like he's gaining many firsts with the boy here.
"I shall take him to the head maid, dinner is already being prepared and I believe Baroness Weald awaits you in the drawing room."
With that, the butler bowed and turned to leave.
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winterzsurprise · 2 years
Text
Loving You Was A Losing Game || Karl Jacobs
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Pairing: c!Karl x Gender-Neutral! Reader (It's in the past), c!Quackity x Reader x c!Sapnap
Summary: In all of the universes he has visited, why is the one where you lived peacefully have to be you as his best friends' fiance?
Tags: Universe-traveller! Karl, Coffee Shop Manager!Quackity, Nurse! Sapnap (not specified tho), Polyamorous established relationship, Angst, Us against the world but the world won trope.
Words: 736
Was inspired by the shit ton of Dr. Strange and Christine edits floating around my Tiktok fyp. Might open request soon.
Like always, feel free to give me constructive criticism since I want to better my writing. Other than that, enjoy!
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The doorbell chimed, then came the tinkles that didn’t come from the hanging ornament above the entrance but from someone’s lips that chattered off to their companion.
It was incredible that the aching dullness of his heart stuttered in its rhythm upon hearing your honeyed voice pierce through the calm melody playing on the speaking that drowned the space in its tunes.
“Darling!”
When you smiled, the winter snow that covered his heart thawed to make way for the patches of flowers that bloomed in his chest that withered as fast as it came.
Because there’s no one you could call darling other than the other man behind the counter.
“Mi amor, mi corazon, are you guys going to work already?”
The café branch manager, Quackity, answered as he crossed the distance between the backrooms and the counter to reach over and hug you tight before turning to your companion.
It was shitty of him to forget that there’s another person involved.
But can you blame him? Out of all the universes he had visited...
“Can I get a large coffee with two bagels?”
He didn’t even notice you move in front of him, shocking him back from his thoughts that would’ve dragged him down into an endless void he so desperately tried to erase.
Your voice was the incarnation of every sweet thing that exists in the world. Your kind eyes that glanced at him for a mere second held every star he hand-picked out from the sky from every other universe he has visited.
It was lovely and absolutely stunning, but also hurtful.
Because unlike the other universes he travelled to just to meet you once more, he dared to come to this reality, where your eyes only glimmered whenever you looked at them.
“Sure, can I get this gentleman anything?”
Shaggy pinecone brown hair hidden under the obsidian VANS cap, a fresh bandaid pressed across the bridge of his nose and a fair length of peach fuzz on his jaw and chin. 
Fire smoldered deep within his guts when his green eyes practically dribbled in adoration while staring at your ever enthusiastic form beside him 
“Nah man, I’m good. I already ate before I left.”
“What name do I put on your cups?”
“Y/N, then he’ll go with—”
“Best Fiance.”
“Put Sapnap please.”
Karl let a smile breakthrough his impassive face, it was ridiculous.
When he started jumping from one universe to another with the same desperation of a grieving lover who wasn’t able to say his goodbyes properly, he saw miscellaneous realities where you took form in miscellaneous ways.
A human, an alien with multiple limbs, a dog, a tailless cat, a mermaid, hell, even a rat.
Even with the odd science of those universes, he stayed beside you. But with every failure, every jump that exhausted his body, mind and soul, he saw the horrors of the world and the cruelty of fate.
“You take proper care of them, alright man? I have some inventory arrangements to do.”
With a pat on the back, the man waved his beloved goodbye before running back to the door behind them.
Out of all millions of worlds and dimensions, your lives never dragged on for long. Your wishes of exchanging the bustling city into a lonesome yet happy lifestyle in a cabin in the woods were never fulfilled.
To see you unable to achieve your dreams crushed his soul, much more when he realises that there is no timeline out there where he’s someone you could call yours.
“I’ll call you guys when it’s done.”
You clung to Sapnap’s coat-covered arm as you moved away from the counter.
Karl has seen many horrors in his immortal life, experienced many heartbreaks from unique events that occurred in his life.
Yet nothing prepared him for the hammering ache that penetrated his heart when he caught the glimmering stones that shone around your finger. 
To be precise, two overlapping rings decorated your ring finger.
His eyes followed you both as you left his vision before letting out a shaky exhale. He didn’t even notice his hands gripping tightly on the marble counter that it turned pale with his veins bulked out.
How cruel can the fates be? How can they make a universe where you lived happily and will die with age be the only reality where you can’t be his but for his best friends?
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