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s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months

Note

*pulls the 45 cents I have to my name out of my pocket and drops them on your table*

I can't believe my name will be forever attached to this but one (1) Kenjaku solo session with Heianera!YN portrait, please

❝ life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key) ❞

warnings: creepy/stalker behaviour, Kenjaku is a 'passive'-yandere (in the sense that Sukuna would and will kill him if he tried anything), manipulative behaviour, gore (detailed), Kenjaku jerking off in front of a portrait of r!, very unrequited

authors note: don't be ashamed, Gabriel. I got way too excited writing this and I think that speaks volumes on how I need to get checked, LMAO. On another note - yes, my YN's will always have a harem of men in the JJK-verse because that's what YN (and you, my dear reader) deserve!

I wrote this partially on my phone so bear with me guys...

*song on repeat: Bernadette by IAMX & Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage. * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned).

People often compared the years they lived as sand. The hourglass holding it is comparable to the human body. He often thought that metaphor was weak. People — humans — were not hourglasses and their years were not sand. No, no. That’s far too neat for humans.

Humans are messy. They are loud, and chaotic, they defy nature's rules and destroy her for the sake of progress. They had no balance, their compass broke when the synapses in their brains sparked conscious thought.

In that chaos, humans made curses. Or, well, you could argue it who came first but without humans and their silly consciousness — cursed spirits wouldn’t thrive.

People are flesh left under the sun. With their blood drying out, flies and maggots eagerly feast on what they can while the meat greys and rots. That’s a much more appropriate metaphor for a human life. If anything, the hourglass comparison should be used for himself. Constantly turning it over to keep going; uncaring of what kept the sands in confinement so long as it could continue its path.

Down, almost empty, flip, repeat.

Kenjaku had perfected his cursed techniques. He had earned this, he had earned his right to let his curiosities run rampant. He had earned the right to be in the presence of Sukuna Ryomen and you.

“Yuuji, you still owe me for eating my yoghurt from the fridge. It was expensive and it took so long for me to find it!” Nobara huffed. “You might as well just buy some for yourself. I’m labelling my food now.”

Megumi glanced over his shoulder at the lack of reply from the pink-haired boy. Nobara stopping next to him with her brows furrowed, sighing as she looks around for him.

“...I was just talking to myself? Seriously?” she grumbled. Megumi adjusts his grip on the bags. The grocery trips were a good team-building exercise according to Yuuji, a way to get to know each other better. Megumi and Nobara agreed after a particularly harsh mission that aimed directly at their novice team fighting experience.

So far, the results that were yielded from it were found that Nobara had an aversion to pineapples, Megumi had expensive tastes, and Yuuji was very good at budgeting money.

“No, he was right beside you a few minutes ago,” Megumi reached for his phone. Nobara placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she continued to scan the crowd.

A gaggle of businessmen came out from the underground train station and between the crowd of slicked-back hair, desperate combovers, and sweaty bald heads, she spotted him.

Tugging on Megumi’s sleeve, she pointed to him. Yuuji was standing and staring up at some sort of vertical banner. As they both approached, they shared a glance.

“Oi, Itadori,” Nobara placed a hand on his shoulder. Smacked it really. He didn’t budge. There was a dullness to his eyes that unnerved her enough to remove her hand. Megumi tightened his grip on his phone as he called out to him again. She took a look at the banner and her brows furrowed.

It was promoting an opening of someone’s private gallery. Some rich kid’s great-great-grandfather’s collection. The painting they used was of a true beauty. A man with long hair, dressed in the finest robes with a serene barely-there smile. It looked to be more European in nature, the art reminding her of the portraits of giant frilly dresses and puffy shoulder sleeves despite the obviously Japanese clothing, accessory, and manner in which the subject was regaled in the painting.

The banner must have costed a pretty penny considering how much detail they could see. Megumi could practically feel the raised textures the artist had used to mimic the pattern of the traditional robe the man wore. The flow of his hair, the texture and pattern it had; and his lashes were surely not that long in reality.

Megumi tore his gaze to Yuuji.

It was like he was in a trance. His mouth was slightly ajar, his brows furrowed and his hands shaking as his knuckles turned white.

“Itadori?”

Yuuji had long forgotten this. This ache in his chest that he sometimes woke up with. When he reaches for the empty space next to him and finds no one. Those moments in the basement when he watches a historical movie and his chest tightens as the nobles courted one another.

“Do you know the painter or something?” Nobara asks.

No, he wants to say. Not the painter. If he knew who it was that did this portrait, he’d tear their heads off their body. But the man? He knew him.

That hellish grin, that perfect face and most importantly those nightmarish eyes.

You’ve seen dolls, right? Those porcelain ones specifically. The craftsmen who make them, the expensive ones with real human hair. To be left on shelves instead of being played with. They would draw these white dots on the eyes, varnish them even, so their eyes would reflect back. A mimicry of humans, that’s what dolls are. But even then, their eyes still twinkled. Not this man. No. It was devoid of light. Pools of (eye colour) and nothing more. These eyes would swallow up any trace of light and diminish the stars from the sky with just a glance.

Yuuji knew him. His soul knew him. His hand clutches over his heart and his friends watch this with trepidation.

It’s been 2,000 years. Sukuna was no longer human and therefore his memory was not as fickle. He still remembers those moments before dawn; the sight of your bare torso breathing softly as you rested next to him. The sun filtering through the windows and making you appear even more ethereal and deadly. How your brows would pinch seconds before you woke. Those soulless eyes that shot through his very soul.

Sukuna could recognize you even if he was blind. He’d be able to hear you just by feeling your chest rumble. If he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, your body and flesh would sustain him.

In his Malovent Shrine, whilst he sat on his throne, he’d summon his flames in his palm. There he’d watch as your figure danced across his hand. You’d twirl between his digits, a smile across your face as he watches the imitation of you.

It used to be enough. Lately, the action brings him more contempt then fondness. The flames never quite catch your shape anymore. Constantly shifting. That coyness is gone, mini-you petulantly staying hidden behind his fingers. So he snuffs you out in his fists.

He hates you for making him miss you. A King should not be missing anyone or anything. Yet, as his vessel stands here, Sukuna teeters on the edge of breaking the Unbreakable Vow he’d made with the brat just to gaze upon you.

The painter got your resemblance and it was agony for him.

How could he continue to be without you when he’s seen you again? Days ago, he wanted to kill you for making him delirious and now he wants you back in his arms.

“Itadori.” Megumi’s tone is firmer. Nobara smacks his shoulder again and Yuuji jolts forward, nearly falling until his rigid legs quickly come back to life.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Megumi asks, his thumb hovering over the DIAL button of Gojo Satoru’s number. Yuuji glances at his wrinkled shirt and releases it, confusion painted across his face at the fading pain across his chest.

“I...yeah, yeah. I'm okay. I have no idea what that was....”

Rich bodies made life significantly easier.

What was that saying humans used?

Money can’t buy happiness?

Kenjaku chuckles at the thought. Foolish and vain — typical of humans. Clinging onto whatever they can to convince their egos they’re better than most when they’ll all meet the same fate. Kenjaku forgets the exact point where he stopped seeing himself as one of them, but he’s sure anyone would if you’ve lived as long as him. Apathy. Most call it a disease of selfishness. Kenjaku simply thinks they’re lying to themselves.

“Mr Geto?” the gallery was a lucrative endeavour. A piece in his grand scheme that required little effort but great rewards. More personal gain on his end.

“Mr Hajimoto mentioned you specifically in his will. The private room is all yours. Thank you so much for your donation to this fine institution of arts.” Kenjaku offers the man a polite smile and nod. The awkward silence prompts them to open the large doors and Kenjaku is greeted by you.

(Y/N) (L/N). In all your glory. In his favourite colours and his favourite kanza. The bespoke lighting on your portrait makes his hands fall limply to his side. You were a brushstroke away from taking a breath. The colours used to recreate that undertone your skin had, the delicate curves of your lashes and the plumpness of your lip.

The two guards in the corner of the room are a nuisance. But with a simple twirl of his right hand, the Slit-Mouthed Woman makes quick work of them. This curse technique was truly convenient, the mess she made cleaned up by a different curse who laps at the blood with vigor. The noises are all muffled as he admires those vicious eyes.

Just saying your name makes warmth travel down between his legs.

“I’ve almost forgotten how you look like.”

Silence ticks by for a minute.

Then Kenjaku bursts into laughter. Clutching his stomach and covering his mouth as he does. He can still smell your blood. Even if Suguru’s body had never had the pleasure of touching you — Kenjaku remembers it.

The way it flowed out of you like silk ribbons. Warm and wet and virile.

“You are an unusual sorcerer,” those were the first words you said to him. He knows you meant that in a derisive fashion — the curl of your nose was a clear indicator. But that was the day a feverish need was planted inside of his very soul.

You. You. You.

The shape of your face.

The cadence of your voice.

The way the wind carried your scent to his nose.

The sound of your cat-like foot-steps.

The effortless way you carried yourself despite the heavy robes that a revered concubine of your rank would wear, along with the golden hair accessories that would probably break a lesser man's neck.

It didn't stop there either.

Your brain, the wickedness that ran through your very veins and that fire that burns within you. Kenjaku wanted to be inside of you in every he could fathom. To sit within that perfectly shaped skull, to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair and take a scalpel to that skin he so craves to taste. Or perhaps inside in the traditional sense, between your legs, embraced by your warm insides and your deadly arms.

Kenjaku ponders on the time he has. He decides that he should indulge in you. He undoes the robes this body wore and sighs as it reveals the torso. Bodies were all the same but he does appreciate the care Geto Suguru took into his temple — there was no need for shame when he's already desecrated this corpse so viscerally already. His hands travel down his torso and that pronounce v-line and past the patch of wiry pubic hair.

You make him feel young again. Reckless and stubborn. Your eyes watch him as he leisurely spits into his palm and strokes it over the tip.

Evil is such a lame word. So primitive in its nature, another one of human's attempts at letting go of responsibility. If something or someone were evil, they were inherently irredeemable. Humans used to call snakes evil simply for doing what a snake would do when hungry, instead of realising they shouldn't have left the door to their huts opened and their sleeping brat asleep.

Was something evil when it simply did what it was meant to do?

They were simply following natures course.

This act Kenjaku is doing now, is not perverted or evil, he is simply being. Simply living, existing, relishing.

If anything, you were the undoing. The evil. You've made, and continue to make, him lose crave and hunger. You were so cruel, so ethereal — so evil.

Kenjaku groaned your name, walking backwards and dropping onto the low seat the gallery provided. His legs spread and he hung his head down but his eyes remained affixed to your painting.

"He sounds beautiful, Mr Hajimoto," the blonde painter had told him once or twice or thrice. Young but talented, the way he used his brushes on canvas was so impressive and Kenjaku missed you so much (Y/N). He simply had to spread the wickedness of your beauty, immortalize it forever within canvases and lesser non-sorcerers minds.

"Did you know him?" his accent was clunky, the Japanese language tumbling on its delicate legs following the rhythm of the painters voice. Still, he — Mr Hajimoto, Kenjaku — gave him a gentle grin.

"Very well. He was my lover."

The small notebook the painter had written your features down in, it was displayed in this very room as well. In a glass casing, handled with gloves to ensure pesky skin oils wouldn't deteriorate his inked strokes.

Speaking of strokes, Kenjaku's was beginning to pick up it's pace. His smile now looser, like an animal that caught the scent of blood, his tongue curled over his teeth as he imagined the disgust on your face. You'd probably cover your nose with the sleeve of your robe and the thought makes his cock jump; you were wearing his favourite colours and it made him moan.

The notebook was filled with sketches of you. Kenjaku recalls correcting the human, correcting him when he disrupted the harmony of your anatomy. You were the humans muse for years, (Y/N). Even as he neared his death bed, the blonde artist kept drawing you. Sketches lose, your shape less tangible, but hauntingly beautiful. Like your dark flames flowing in the wind. Even as his memories of his life escapes him, the artist remembered you. What a blessing. Kenjaku had visited him before he died and whispered your name into the old man's ear.

Sorcerer Society keeps your name hidden. It's their way of control. Making Sukuna Ryomen more monstrous by telling others he ruled coldly and cruelly alone; death was not as harsh as being erased. They say Sukuna needed 20 of his fingers and his mummified heart to be revived. That's what those poems talked about after all.

A misunderstanding.

The heart was Sukuna's, yes.

But it wouldn't revive him.

"You were so angry," he chuckled out, "so defiant even when I was inside of you."

The sky was blood red, the black smoke making the colour more saturated as it seemed intent on blotting out the sun. Uraume had felt a sudden chill, you did too, and they swiftly rose as the scent of deceit was so thick in the air.

“Uraume,” your voice remained nonchalant. But there was a tenseness in your throat that even they could decipher through the layers of regality. They turned, mouth pressed into a thin line as they went on their knees.

You continued to stare, impassively looking down at the patterned swirl of their snow-white hair. The red and black sky turning the colour of your eyes a pleasantly mournful shade; the golden kanza in your hair that your Lord Sukuna himself had commissioned for you glimmered righteously. The teeth of a beast, the curling of centipede legs, and the melded wings of a raven. It was beautiful just as much as it was unusual.

“You leave your Lord’s prized possession to fend for himself?”

Uraume lips reveal a modest amount of teeth. Their face like a porcelain doll as they raise their head. It makes your heart flutter and squeeze.

“You are stronger than these worms, they wouldn’t dare attack you.”

This is true. A fact. You were strong. 100 sorcerers or 1, 000 sorcerers — it made no difference to you. They’d turn into dust and wither right before you. But it shocks Uraume when you place your palm against their jaw, thumb stroking over their cheekbone as you gaze down at them.

“How horrid it is, making me defend myself.”

They see your eyes soften. It was no wonder you were Lord Sukuna’s concubine. Just being touched by you, looked down upon by you; it makes their spine melt.

“I should have your head for your insolence.”

Uraume apologizes, lips stilling when your thumb presses down on them.

“Return to me. Whole. My Lord Husband and I will not be pleased if you do not. We don’t want weaklings to stand behind us.”

Uraume bows, their lips kissing your knuckles as they do before they raise and disappear from your sight. The screams of terror that are heard outside at the sight of them make you slip your eyes close.

Kenjaku appeared before you what felt like hours later. He looks at the scene with a raise of his brow. Your feet were soaked in blood as bodies were strewn across the wide room. The floor was shimmering, looking as though it was breathing as it creaked from his weight. The clothes the bodies wore painted a clear enough picture — they were your servants. Loyalties were swayed as the fight prolonged. These little ants thought they could save themselves from punishment if they showed these righteous sorcerers your head.

He couldn’t smell smoke and there were no signs of charring. The bodies were mangled beyond belief, guts spilling out, eyes gouged, arms bent unnaturally.

Yet, in the gore and horror, you stood across from him with only your feet stained by traitorous blood.

You were a vision. Delicately wiping away blood from the tiger claw kanza with the sleeve of a dead servant. Then, he watches as you carefully put it back in place atop your hair.

“Kenjaku.”

He bows his head, bending at his waist, then lifts himself up again.

“The Kamo clan, your clan, joined this rebellion. I feel that should be a good enough reason to kill you.” The fire in your eyes makes his heart race. He moves forward, casually stepping over a torn torso.

“That would be unwise,” he gives you a grin. This body of his is new. The stitches are still fresh and red. Most likely a desperate attempt of his to hide away while they destroyed his old body. The corpse is younger, and more plain-looking. Despite it’s Curse Technique being a mystery, you’ll take your chances at strangling him.

“I’ve come at the behest of your Lord Husband. To ensure your longevity.”

Your brows pinch. Kenjaku delights at the creases it creates, tucking away this sight into his memories for lonely nights. Then, you scowl.

“You lie.”

His giddiness is palpable. The wide grin on the corpse’s face is clearly not his own; cheeks lifted too high and smile too large and unnatural. Kenjaku must’ve been a truly ugly man with a truly ugly grin. The body struggles to adjust to this display of amusement.

“I’m not.”

He takes a step forward and you lift your hand. The standstill would’ve lasted longer if it weren’t for the yells and thunderous footsteps clambering up to your room.

“You lie!”

Dark flames roared out from the windows. The heat so smoldering it causes a burst of hot air to knock back the men on the stairs, burning their skin and face. The blood on the floor boils, the iron scent now more acidic as the once fleshy bodies now crumble into dust.

You feel his breathe against the nape of your neck. As you turn, he wrings his arms around you like a snake. One across your stomach, the other around your shoulder. That horrible smile is pressed against your skin.

“Kenjaku,” you growl through gritted teeth.

“That’s right. Say my name.”

Fighting feels a lot like sex.

Kenjaku can feel your passion behind every strike, the bruises you leave behind on his skin are akin to hickeys. When you yell out and scream, cheeks so hot he can feel the rush of blood to your face just from looking — the rapid pulse you have and the way your face is contorted.

Kenjaku pins you down. Your legs are thrown over his own while you gnash your teeth at him and spit insults his way. Your hair was so beautiful, thrown back around your head like a lion’s mane. He slides your wrists above your head and holds them with one hand while the other undoes the meticulous array of folds your kimono had.

Sweat drips down his nose. It’s all your fault. Using your Curse Technique in this room, charring the wood and setting it all aflame. Still, he could work in this conditions.

“Ah,” he moans at the sight of your bare skin. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, licking his lips as he places a hand over your heart.

When you kick at his stomach, he acts like he cannot feel it. When you kick again, this time hard enough for a loud crack to be heard, he looks at you.

“If you kill me, you will break the Binding Vow you and Ryomen had made with me.”

He feels your feet dig into his rib, the spiderwebs of cracks spreading further. He allows this with a pleased hum. Your ragged breathing all at once calms and with a blink, your eyes lose that unbridled fury.

“You dare say my Lord’s name so casually?”

Kenjaku laughs. As he leans down, he presses his forehead to yours. Your nose curls in disgust but you keep your lips pursed. The feeling of his sweat sliding down the sides of your forehead and dipping to travel the side of your nose; threatening to get into your eyes as it slips just beneath it.

“Forgive me, venerable concubine.” Kenjaku does not mean this. When he presses his fingers together and imbues his hand with Curse Energy. He enjoys it.

Slicing through your skin at a pace that made the cut more ghastly then it would be if it was done quickly. You remained stone-faced while Kenjaku chewed on his lower lip, every twitch or squint just fueling his hunger.

He is past your skin and now he sees the yellow, when he twists his wrist you grunt as he slices through the threads of muscles. He spreads his fingers and your teeth part as you let out a strained yell.

"You can be louder if you want," his lips brush against your cheek every time he speaks.

"When I return, I'll take pleasure in ripping your head off your body."

"Threatening me?"

He reaches bone. His finger scratching against it before he peels away and settles between your legs. Your hands aren't pinned but you do nothing but curl your fingers into fists as he shoves another hand into your chest. The squelching and pulsing of your flesh, the bursts of blood from your throbbing veins and pumping heart. The wetness and warmth of your insides. He can feel your body clenching around him, and he convinces himself its because you truly enjoy this depravity just as he does.

The size of his hands in your chest is unbearably uncomfortable. Invading you, filling you when you want nothing more than to burn him, as he moves his digits and wrists within you.

He grasps onto your bones and breaks it under the pressure of his wrist. Your blood is spraying him, staining his clothes.

"Your blood looks like ribbons," he whispers to you, "even your insides are like works of art."

You want this to be over with already.

Your arms move down, eyes still set in a glare. You slip your fingers under the soaked clothing and spread it apart further to reveal more of your skin. Shimmying your shoulders so your torso is now bare of any clothing.

The tent between his legs pressed into your crotch. It's hard to ignore, but you push through and grasp onto his elbow and force him to go in deeper.

"Promising you."

Kenjaku's elbow straightens sharply and he moans as he feels your heart beating in his palm. He pulls it out of your body, panting as your eyes slip close and your heart slows. Beating slowly...slowly...slowly...

Kenjaku moans at the memory of your heart in his hands. Your warm blood coating his skin, drying under his nails and crackling in the creases of his joints.

"I wanted to keep you on me forever," he grunts out as his pace gets faster. "The smell of you, of your flesh."

"I didn't need your body, but it was too beautiful not to be admired."

Kenjaku throws his head back, placing his palm across his nose and lips as he sifts through his memories so he can conjure it all over again.

The painting watches on impassively. The croons and purrs of Geto Suguru's cursed spirits echo faintly in Kenjaku's ears while his hips thrusts into his own fist. It's desperate. He usually isn't like this. Even when he was creating the Death Womb Paintings — even when his plans are so close to coming into fruition.

You make him like this. Make him lose control, every thought poisoned with you even when you're nothing more than a mummified heart hidden so desperately away by Sorcerer Society.

"I've gotten a lead," Uraume had informed him just a few days ago. "They've hidden him in the ocean in an underwater research facility."

"Underwater, hah, they think it'll keep your flames contained. Keep your loyal servant away as if the depths of the ocean is enough to scare them, us — Oh, (Y/N)."

His fist stops and Kenjaku stands, removing his clothing fully as he places a hand against the wall of the gallery. The textured wall, the grooves, give way to his nails as he digs them in. He stares into your eyes, imagining the crease of your furrowed brow and Kenjaku groans out your name as he cums all over the wall.

"...Oh, I can't wait to see you again, venerable concubine."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #kenjaku x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader

198 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 2 months

Text

I know you want me

⨳ Mafia!Hongjoong ⨳

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

∞ Warning: mentions of drugs, murder and illegal activities ∞ Word count: 3.5k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, police officer!au, enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Working in the police was no easy feat, especially when you had been chasing after a mafia lord for the past six years. No matter how hard you worked and tried to find evidence, Kim Hongjoong always somehow came clean. But one day you finally get a lead that will help you succeed in your mission...or perhaps you've trusted Kim Hongjoong a little bit too much with your wine.

∞ A/N: Hongjoong's part is here, I hope you enjoy it! I think the tags for Wooyoung's part weren't working and that makes me a bit angry? Anyways, check out the other parts if you're interested! ^^ Next I will be posting Yeosang's part. Let me know what you thought of Hongjoong's part ^^ I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⨳ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥

In my field of work nothing was handed to you on a silver plate. The fact that I went to work daily was already a risk factor of losing my life—and unfortunately, with the passing of years and the many enemies I have made, I didn’t have to go into the office or out on the field to get killed. It was enough to sip my coffee on the balcony, or to go grocery shopping, or even just lay in my bed while watching a movie to unwind after the long day I’ve had. The city was a chaos, per usual, and the crime lords were on a rampant, wreaking more havoc than usual. There was a big influx of drugs sneaked into clubs and other entertainment areas these past two months that had officers, detectives, and even higher ups working their asses off in order to find the one behind it all, but almost each time we came up empty handed. It seemed like whoever was leading this illegal operation was a mastermind and made sure their steps were untraceable. Except that I wasn’t dense like my colleagues, I had my eyes set on one person since we’ve come across the illegal substances.

Kim Hongjoong.

Biggest mafia lord in the city and possibly wanting to expand his business overseas, it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. It was Hongjoong’s doing, no doubt, but because he was too good at what he was doing, I couldn’t prove it. Not yet, at least. There were few things that could stop me—death being one of them—and I had been breathing down his neck for the past three months. The Kim Enterprise led by him, on the outside, seemed like an inoffensive car dealership that had multiple deals with overseas companies and collaborations with the biggest existing brands. However, once you looked through the cracks and investigated the Enterprise with a critical eye, you realized everything was hidden in plain sight. The cars they imported and exported often times were filled with either illegal substances or weapons that Mr. Kim should have never gotten his hands on—he also wasn’t shy to admit all the money laundering he’s been doing for the past six years.

But somehow, he always came up clean, without the possibility of directly blaming him for all the mayhem and crime he’s committed. He had great men backing him up, unfortunately, and I had been forced to dig deep and into ugly places in order to finally find something of value, something that would finally put him behind bars and destroy the empire he’s built for himself. He was no stranger to me or my colleagues, but perhaps the most infuriating part of our strictly professional relationship was the fact that he was always eager and happy to let us raid his warehouses and headquarters—perhaps because he knew we’d find nothing of actual value that would finally put an end to this fiasco.

Not tonight though, finally I found a little piece of evidence that fit our puzzle the right way. He wouldn’t be able to argue its authenticity, perhaps because it came from one of his insiders that had grown sick of all of the mistreatment and threats he’d been forced to take. The world of a mafia lord was sick and twisted, dark and unforgiving. The man who had given us a small piece of information had been placed under surveillance for his own safety as we know Mr. Kim too well, he’d definitely kill our informant the second he lays hands on him, and we couldn’t have that right now. We still need this person for further information and insight about Mr. Kim’s thorough plans. We finally had a real lead and we couldn’t let it go to waste.

That is why, in true fashion to myself, I had sent a formal invite to Mr. Kim for a quick dinner to discuss business. He loved being over the top, but he also loved declining our formal requests to meet up, and so, proposing to have dinner together is something I know he never turns down. Perhaps he liked the thrill of sitting at a table with an officer that’s been after his ass for the past six years, perhaps he enjoys the power play and the rush he gets every time one of our evidences get debunked by him. Not tonight, though, tonight will be different. My colleagues have been against me going alone to the fancy restaurant—which definitely wanted to refuse our request as they were fully booked, but upon pulling a few strings, I got us a table. After all, it was Mr. Kim’s favorite restaurant, they couldn’t refuse him if I used his name for our reservation.

“You’ve been just promoted, Y/N,” My colleague and also closest friend, Irene, said with a worried expression on her face, “you’re not supposed to head out onto the field so heedlessly.”

“But it’s not headless, Irene,” I grinned at her as I tidied my desk, feeling triumphant that I managed to book the table for tonight, “It’s necessary.”

“You’re trying to show off to him, and that’s dangerous and headless—”

“It’s an intimidation tactic, and to be honest, I do deserve to show off after everything I had to go through because of him.” I muttered as Irene sighed defeated, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“And if he refuses?” I chuckled as I gave Irene a knowing look.

“Kim Hongjoong refusing a meeting when he thinks he’s still got the upper hand and can humiliate me once again?” I shook my head as I pushed my chair back, “Impossible.”

“Fine,” Irene’s jaw clenched as she shook her head, “But wear a tracker and a camera, and alert me if things get out of hand. I refuse to have a repeat of last time—”

“It was an accident.” I sighed, frowning at the memory, “He didn’t mean to hurt me, the attack was aimed at him and I was there at the wrong time—”

“Whatever narrative you’ve told yourself of him protecting you is pure bullshit, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was harsh and I knew I couldn’t argue with her anymore, “He kills people for a living, he gets innocent people hooked on drugs, and he terrorizes those who refuse to work for him. He did not save you, he wanted you dead. You saved yourself, end of discussion.”

And perhaps Irene was right, but she wasn’t there when it happened. When the fire was opened and aimed at me, had Mr. Kim been a second too slow, I would be lying six feet under now. But Kim Hongjoong sprung up from his hiding place and yanked me behind a wall that kept the bullets from piercing both of our bodies, his eyebrows furrowed and a pissed look on his face as I tried to catch my breath from the sudden adrenaline rush. And Irene wasn’t there when Hongjoong killed every single one man that aimed their weapon towards me. She wasn’t there when he drove me back to the station and waited almost four hours until I was done with reports and a medical check-up and a visit to the higherups to drive me back home. Irene definitely wasn’t there when I noticed two of Hongjoong’s most trusted bodyguards stand the whole night in front of my gates just to keep watch and make sure I wasn’t targeted again. Kim Hongjoong was a criminal and a bad man, but he had an ounce of goodness in his heart somewhere deep down.

The lights in the restaurant were dim and gave the place an intimidating aura, I can see why Hongjoong likes it here. The tables were separated and placed at bigger distance, offering privacy for those who wanted it. The table I had been sat at was a separate booth, more towards the kitchens as I was told it was Mr. Kim’s usual table, and I was surprised to find three red candles placed in the middle of the table and rose petals strewn across the white silky tablecloth. It felt prestige and definitely expensive. The whole setting made me feel a little bit uneasy despite the low murmur of conversations surrounding me, and I tried not to fiddle with my fingers anxiously. I had to appear confident and like I was here for serious business, ready to take down the mafia lord that still hadn’t shown up. He was fifteen minutes late now, and I have started doubting whether he was coming. It also didn’t help that the black spaghetti strap dress was tight as fuck as if it was moulded against my body, forcing me to hide my handgun as it was strapped against my inner thigh where its outline wasn’t visible. It was a little uncomfortable sitting down with it as it dug into my skin, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I’ve had to go through things far worse than this before.

The waiter had served me red wine when I had sat down, but I haven’t touched it yet, keen on waiting for Mr. Kim before consuming anything I was given. I had just started getting disheartened and ready to phone Irene that maybe we should hit a bar since I’m all dressed up, when Mr. Kim finally showed up, looking a little dishevelled. His dyed ginger hair was messy on top of his head and his cheeks rather flushed as he approached the table, sharp cat-like eyes settling on my form with a smirk stretching onto his lips. I gulped and straightened my back, raising my eyebrows questioningly at him once he plopped down in his seat rather unceremoniously.

“Miss Yang, I’m sorry for making you wait.” His voice was velvety as he spoke up, grabbing the white napkin off the table, “Something urgent came up and I had to take immediate care of it, I’m sure you understand with your field of work.”

“Completely, Mr. Kim.” I grinned slyly and Hongjoong hummed as I watched him rub his hands and knuckles against the white napkin, which wasn’t pure white anymore but covered in red spots. My eyes lingered on them knowing that it was most likely blood, and I could feel Hongjoong’s eyes watching me carefully. When I looked up, he had a challenging look in his eyes as he waved his hand lazily towards the waiter who disappeared behind the bar.

“It isn’t a daily occurrence I get asked on a date by a woman like you, Miss Yang.” I huffed in amusement as Hongjoong smirked once again, leaning back in his chair as he spread his legs wide, “May I know how I got so lucky?”

“We should wait for your drink first, Mr. Kim, I feel like making a toast.” I answered with a smug tone as my long red nails tapped against my glass filled with wine, making Hongjoong chuckle as he nodded.

“Very well, I have others things I can chat about either way.” He clicked his tongue, eyes slowly traveling from my eyes down my body, no doubt stopping at my chest as the dress did a shit job at covering my boobs as it should, but for once I didn’t mind, “You look ravishing tonight, Y/N, I wish we met in a setting like this more often.”

“With my field of work I rarely get the chance to dress up all pretty,” I mused, pushing my long hair behind my shoulders, “but tonight’s a special occasion, I had to dress accordingly. And it seems it was a smart choice given that you look handsome yourself, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong chuckled, eyes creasing as he scrunched his nose. For someone who was a dangerous mafia lord, he certainly could look rather cute in a way that seemed almost uncharacteristic, “What a compliment from you, thank you. It’s not often I hear you call me by my name.”

“Casualties need to be put aside when we’re talking about your business.”

“But isn’t that why we’re here?”

I grinned, hand resting on the white envelope placed on the table, “Exactly, but until we get to the business talk, I’ll indulge and play along with you, Hongjoong.”

“I’m afraid I got you wrapped around my finger, Y/N.” I snorted as Hongjoong bit his bottom lip with his eyes boring into mine, one eyebrow raised almost mockingly. But before I could retort anything, the waiter approached us with Hongjoong’s expensive whiskey and bowed upon his departure. Hongjoong hummed and grabbed his glass, raising it as he waited for me to do the same with my glass of wine. As I have said, I intended on making a toast. I couldn’t help but smirk as I raised my glass and titled it towards Hongjoong.

“To the downfall of your enterprise and empire, Mr. Kim.” I couldn’t help but feel elated as Hongjoong’s face fell, eyes hardening as I chuckled and took a long sip of the sweet wine, humming in delict at the expensive taste of the alcohol. Hongjoong almost hesitated for a second, but he took a sip of his whiskey and shook his head as his eyes fell on the envelope. I placed my glass down and traced its surface almost mockingly as I stalled handing the envelope over to him, “You see, Mr. Kim, it’s usually those closest to us that can ruin us the easiest and fastest way.”

“I suppose whatever you have in that envelope won’t be to my liking, Miss Yang.” I chuckled and nodded as I grabbed it and looked at it before handing it over to Hongjoong. I settled back in my seat and grabbed my glass of wine to sip on it as I watched the fearless mafia lord’s jaw clench as he emptied the envelope’s contents and paused as he scattered all the evidence out in front of him. I grinned behind my glass as I took a large gulp of the wine, enjoying the rich taste of it as it bloomed around my taste buds, making me sigh in content as Hongjoong’s neutral mask slipped into one of anger. I chuckled under my breath as I took him in, eyes straying to the exposed skin of his chest as he was leaned forward and wore nothing underneath his jacket. Silver chains hung around his neck and his ears had more than one earring piercing them, his pinkie nails painted black on both hands as a few chunky rings clung to his thick fingers.

He scoffed loudly and I quirked an eyebrow at him as he threw me a glare before looking back down at the papers, his jaw set tight as I swiftly finished my wine. It’s been long I had something as fancy as this one as I usually opted for the cheap beer from the convenience store after a strenuous and challenging day while I sat on my couch in the living room and watched whatever reality show was on at the moment.

“Miss Yang,” I perked up as Hongjoong sighed, tone tight and displeased, “I thought our respect was mutual after all these years of knowing each other and collaborating, yet here you are, meddling with my personal life.”

“Oh, but Mr. Kim,” I interlaced my fingers and placed my elbows on the table as I leaned forward with a fake concerned look on my face, “I thought there were no secrets between the two of us, yet here we are, with proof on our hands of all of your wrongdoings and missteps, Mr. Kim.”

He chuckled as he threw the papers onto the table and tsked, eyeing my empty glass of wine, “I heard you’ve been promoted to Deputy Chief, shouldn’t one of your baboons be sitting here with me instead of you?”

“I couldn’t miss seeing your reaction, Mr. Kim.” I chuckled and he nodded, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, mirroring my position.

“You should thank me for getting as far as this, Miss Yang, without me you would’ve been useless to the police—”

“If that is what you wish to believe, Mr. Kim, go ahead.” My jaw clenched at his blatant disrespect as I cut him off, “But at least I wasn’t outed by my own brother.”

Hongjoong’s eye twitched as he scoffed and hastily grabbed his glass to throw his whiskey back. I smiled as I enjoyed seeing him in real distress for the first time, seeing him uncapable of stopping me this time. But I also became aware of the subtle thumping of my head, of the immediate effect of the alcohol I had consumed. Could it be so strong that it already got to my head? I thought I had a rather high tolerance for alcoholic drinks.

“I am sure my brother has his own reasons—”

“Like many people I’ve come across, Mr. Kim, your brother grew sick of your schemes and deals, and chose to right his wrongdoings.” I cut him off once again, the headache growing a lot more persistent and disturbing. My body suddenly felt like it was moving a lot slower than it actually was, making me shake out my hands as I leaned back in my seat. Once again, Hongjoong’s eyes fell on the empty glass and my eyes narrowed as he grinned before shaking his head.

“My brother is a fool,” Hongjoong muttered and then gathered the papers and slowly slipped them back in the envelope, “when will you raid my warehouses?”

“Probably tomorrow.” I hummed as I had to blink my eyes a few times to clear the haze that threatened to settle upon my vision, “Can’t let you have too much time at your hands to dispose of all the evidence, can’t I?”

“I appreciate your effort of warning me,” Hongjoong hummed and licked his lips as he paused for a second, watching me closely as my legs started feeling like lead and my arms tingled, “you’ve always been a great asset to my organization, Miss Yang, so aware of everything yet never close enough to prove anything.”

“I’ll do anything it takes to finally take you down,” I hissed, venom coating my voice as I had to force my eyes shut upon the violent headache that seemed to leave me immobile, “I’ve had enough of watching people suffer because of you, Hongjoong.”

“Perhaps you’ll hate me a little more after tonight, Y/N,” Hongjoong chuckled as I tried to gulp but my throat felt parched. I tried to move, but I couldn’t, and I panicked as I realized this wasn’t normal. Whatever this was, it had to be Hongjoong’s doing and as my eyes fell onto my empty wine glass, Hongjoong chuckled and leaned over the table to grab it, “because I have tricked you once again. My brother is my most trusted asset to my organization, I knew we could lure you out if I sent him running to you with forged evidence.”

I tried to sit up and grab for my gun, but even my tongue felt heavy to move as I frowned at Hongjoong, heartrate picking up as I realized I had foolishly fallen into his well-thought-out plan, “Some of my business partners are fed up with you always lurking around our asses, so I had to do something about it if I didn’t want to lose them.”

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak sound in the back of my throat making Hongjoong chuckle. My head was pounding and even the dim lights bothered my eyes as I felt dizzy, struggling to stay awake as everything in me was growing soft and calm, “I respect you greatly, Y/N, and quite frankly I like you a lot. It’s hard to find a confident, ambitious, and strong woman that doesn’t abide to my wishes straight away these days. It’s truly a pity that we’re on opposing teams, darling.”

There was a beep coming from his pocket and he grabbed his phone and chuckled as he picked it up, sounding too cheery as I struggled to fight the sleep that was threatening to knock me out for God knows how long, “I told you it would be easy, bring the van to the back.”

I tried to protest as my eyes fluttered open and Hongjoong pushed his seat back and stood with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he slowly approach me, his wide legged pants making him look taller than he was, “You’ve been working hard, Y/N, it’s time for a little vacation, don’t you think? Have you ever been to the Bahamas? I have a really important gig to pull off and I really can’t have you sniffing around my ass like a wild dog.”

I managed to gasp as suddenly Hongjoong’s hands were around and underneath my body, lifting me off the chair as I hung limply in his arms as he stared down at me with pursed lips, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And with the promise rolling off his tongue in a whisper, the drug that had been infused with my wine kicked in completely and I couldn’t help but surrender to the serene darkness that lulled me to a deep sleep in Hongjoong’s strong arms.

I need to call Irene once I am conscious again. I didn’t wear a tracker.

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naeverse · 8 months

Text

Divine Touch

Requested by: Anon! Request: That would be so good if there would be kink series(some aren't tho)! Good thing someone asked for it l'm shy I have a list on mind Imao: Roleplay, breeding kink, Exhibitionism, scene play, age play or ddig, praise kink?, cockwarm?, threesome with peter b parker prob, lactation kink, phone sex?, mirror sex?, dacryphilia, oh maybe like an au where the reader is pregnant n Miguel just get turned on by that LMAO

A/N: I completely adore this request, it's literally the inspiration for the kink series so thank you so much anon! I hope you enjoy the first one! ❤🧡

🧡staring: Deity!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Maiden Reader

🏺preview:

“I must keep the balance in Nueva Yorkhaven or chaos would go rampant upon our lands.” He said, keeping his crimson eyes on you. “So if I take a life…

I must replace it…”

⚔️summary: After being coerced by your mother into a marriage with a man you didn't love, who treated you poorly, you believed your life was over. It wasn't until you remembered one last divine solution that could possibly help alleviate your wretched situation.

🥟tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Breeding Kink, Clit Stimulation, Doggystyle, Grinding, Historical Era, Mythology-Based, Orgasms, P in V, Power Difference, Praising, Unprotected Sex, etc…

🍵Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Pequeñita (Little one), Querida (Dear)

⛩️Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🧡 Word Count: 12.3k

(I do not own any of the photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

(This oneshot contains Breeding do not read, if you are not comfortable)

Breeding kink - The sexual desire to be impregnated or to impregnant another.

**YOU'VE BEEN WARNED**

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the beautiful village of Nueva Yorkhaven and bringing upon the covering of night, you, a fair maiden of the town, traversed during the dark hours down the cobblestone pathways. The gentle glow of lanterns that adorned every trail served as a guide towards your desired destination.

You clenched your black cloak tightly to your body, attempting to hide all traces of your being and the basket that you carried. With frantic, cautious eyes, you swiftly flicked them around, trying to detect any lingering presence in your path; but upon finding none, you quickened your pace.

On your covert journey, you passed cottages with ivy-covered walls and huge trees with dew-kissed leaves that danced in the moonlight, welcoming the night.

Your feet, adorned in black Astrids, carried you through the winding routes of the village, leading out into the quiet meadow that surrounded it. You left behind the dreamscape facade of your village to tread warily into the forest.

Following a dirt path that looked to be used before by countless others, it led you deeper into the meadow. Fireflies wove trails of light along the dark road, while the distant hooting of an owl echoed through the woods, making you jump. Your hand landed on your chest, feeling how harshly your heart was pounding.

You knew the consequences if you were caught, but it didn’t matter.

Things had gone too far, and you needed assistance.-

Divine assistance.

The forest was painstakingly quiet. Every rustling of leaves, cracking of wood, along with your timid footsteps, seemed to reverberate through the trees. A gentle breeze brushed past you, filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers, yet a subtle unease clung to the air like sticky sap on tree bark.

With every step, a voice in your mind told you to turn back, to stop.

You soon realized it to be your mother’s.

Her pestering and nagging words clouded your head the deeper you entered the woods.

‘You know traversing the forest in the dead of night isn’t fit for a young lady. Turn back now!’

‘What would Sir Hawthorne think of you?’

‘Turn back now or you would be seen as a disgrace to your father!!’

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, a shaky exhale passing your lips. Even though it was your own head, your mother’s pestering sounded almost too real; it shook you to your very core and even had you contemplating returning back the way you came when the silhouette of an ancient structure emerged in the distance, causing your worried thoughts to halt.

With a soft gasp, the idea of leaving left you as you hurried along, a sense of relief washing over you. You left behind the unsettling forest and looked upon the worn, yet sturdy stones that held up the quiet sanctuary of your town’s guardian. The large entrance was framed by weathered gray columns, adorned with two flickering torches that casted a soft glow of red-orange into the dark space. The air carried a new sense of otherworldly, different from the feeling of unease you felt before.

You gazed up at the olden engraving of letters, etched into the stone above the massive doors, reading under your breath:

Sanctuary Of Miguel O’Hara Guardian of Nueva Yorkhaven

Just uttering the deity’s name felt ancient and heavy upon your tongue. A huge grin spread across your lips, reading the name of the divine structure once more.

You did it. You actually did it.

You were here…

The harsh grip you had on your basket loosened; anxiety and fear that clung to your being like leeches faded away. You felt an overwhelming sensation of safety and security as you approached the ancient doors.

Despite the feeling of disbelief at your success, you set down your basket and placed both hands onto the ringed doorknobs. The doors were heavy, and it took all of your strength to hear the satisfying creak and soon feel the stone doors move out of their rooted place. You were only able to open them a little, but it was big enough for you to slip through, entering into the sanctuary of your village's infamous guardian.

Instantly a rush of cool air brushed along your body, making you hug your black cloak closer to you. The room was dimly lit with torches and candles as your feet walked along cool ancient stone, guiding you to the heart of the shrine. Respectfully, you drew down the hood of your black cloak, your eyes unable to take in the magnificent sights before you due to astonishment.

You had always heard stories and legends about the great Miguel O’Hara. How he saved your village from many horrific storms, dreadful winters, and blazing droughts. How, with his divine might, he crumbled armies and men who dared to harm his people.

Miguel protected your town and watched over every villager. He was there to pick you and your people up when you fell, whether that was with love, wealth, or glory.

The villagers of Nueva Yorkhaven looked to Miguel for needed support, and he was known to answer your calls of need every time…

Standing and gazing upon your protector's sanctuary, it resembled the great deity perfectly.

The room was styled lavishly in warm reds and muted yellows and oranges, granting a sense of protection to those who entered. Tall pillars rose at each corner, stabilizing the grand building, and the walls were decorated with sacred symbols—images of laurel leaves and celestial patterns that showed Miguel’s guardianship and lasting connection between the divine and mortal realm.

As you move further into the sanctuary, your eyes instantly are drawn to what lies in the center. On an elevated platform adorned with laurel wreaths and symbols of protection was your Guardian’s majestic stone throne, and in front of the throne was an intricately designed altar. The sacred surface was covered with offerings of fruits, flowers, prepared dishes, and tokens of gratitude that were carefully arranged. Candles flickered softly around the tributes as your feet led you towards it.

Nervously, you bit your lip.

You couldn't remember the last time you’d done this.

Before, your family would visit your great deity’s sanctuary once a month, dress his altar with beautiful gifts, and pray for protection until the next month when you’d return once more.

After your arranged marriage to Alden Hawthorne, a man who traveled to your village in search of a wife to betroth, your family stopped visiting.

Sir Hawthorne lacked all youthfulness in his appearance. His facial features showed his age, and he wasn’t a suitor who set hearts aflutter either; instead of his looks doing the speaking for him, his wealth did.

His stature and wealth led many fair maidens of your village to toss themselves at the older male in his late 40s in an attempt to get a grab at his riches.

Of course, without seeking consent, your mother had already given your hand to the salt and pepper-haired male, who, with one glance at you, agreed almost immediately.

You were the most beautiful in your village. A rose that bloomed gloriously amongst ordinary flowers. Due to the poor conditions of your household, your mother sought for more. After your father’s death, she became adamant on finding a living, so she used you to do so.

With the betrothal to Sir Hawthorne in place, from then on, only pesters and nags left the lips of your mother, demanding perfection and a great image. “You will be the wife of Sir Hawthorne, after all. You’ll have to act like it as well, dear," she'll tell you countless times until that dreadful day.

Vows that weren’t written by your hand and said by your heart were read aloud, expensive, lavish rings were exchanged, and the most atrocious kiss was shared.

You didn’t think your life could get any worse until after your wedding when your mother pulled you to the side. With a huge grin and beaming face, she told you what was to occur during your honeymoon.

Something so very abysmal it almost made you retch.

“During that time, the breeding of children will be had. You remember the drawings I’ve done for you—that is to occur.” She said with a smile. “All you must worry about is laying back, spreading your legs, and not being a little pest to him. Got it!?” She spat harshly, proceeding to speak of being a grandmother and having grandchildren to take care of and fill her day, not at all concerned for her daughter who was real and right before her.

And as you anticipated, that night was horrific and excruciating…

It was laden with weeps of sorrow and agony. The booming voice of your mother, that told you repeatedly to not be a pest and to not protest, filled your head while a pain that struck you like a hammer upon a nail hit you over and over again…

It’s a memory you try to efface from your mind.

After the dreadful honeymoon, you, sadly, had to live with him. Sir Hawthorne had a house built in your village, Nueva Yorkhaven, one so grand and modernized that it contrasted greatly with the usual dreamscape cottages.

You hated your life there as every day in the lavish halls of your new home, you were worried about only one thing.

Did Alden’s advances work?

Would you bear him a child?

You would weep every time the idea crossed your mind. After two months had passed, Sir Hawthorne hired doctors to come to your home. You weren't showing any signs of pregnancy and that worried your ‘husband’ to death.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in your marriage when the doctors told the two of you about the failure of Sir Hawthorne's advances. It appeared to have been a failed impregnation, but one on Sir Hawthorne’s part.

Your ‘husband's’ inability to produce an heir angered him immensely.

After the doctor visit, the facade of your marriage crumbled, and Sir Hawthorne revealed a side of himself that you had feared—he turned abusive—mentally and emotionally.

Every word that left your mouth was seen as an irritation. He demeaned and belittled you and constantly criticized your appearance.

Sir Hawthorne isolated you from villagers, housekeepers, your mother, and forbade you from having friends. He even halted your use and access to his riches—although it wasn't like you used it anyway.

As a sign of punishment, he forced you to assist in keeping up the house. He had housekeepers that worked alongside you, but he purposely gave you higher expectations than the normal help.

Despite the stress of your new job, you found solace in it.

It reminded you of the peaceful times back in your home cottage when things were right.

A time when your father and mother were together, your mother wasn't so cruel, and where you were loved.

It was a memory that always came when hanging clothes to dry or harvesting produce.

It wasn't until Sir Hawthorne discovered your contentment with your punishment that he made things even worse for you. He gave you harsher tasks, such as washing every window of his grand house to sparkle in the sun, redecorating rooms over and over again to his liking, and being made to work even in the dead of night.

The physical labor had become too much as he even denied you access to necessities like food and proper clothing.

You felt trapped.

Stuck in this cycle of degrading and forced labor that felt endless.

Many times you thought of running away, but to where? You didn’t have anywhere to go.

You didn’t have friends; he forbade it.

Your neighbors in Nueva Yorkhaven adored Alden. They’ll think you were the crazy one if you came to them with your troubles.

And you definitely couldn't go back to your mother; she’ll send you back.

It felt hopeless…

Like a blossomed well-kept garden, suddenly, an idea came to mind. One that after all these years, you've completely forgotten was the solution to any villager of Nueva Yorkhaven's debacles.

Miguel O’Hara.

The protector of your village, the guardian of every mortal being born and raised in Nueva Yorkhaven.

He was your refuge, your solution to this mess.

But standing before his altar, inside of his sanctuary, you’ve never felt so disconnected from him.

With shaky hands, you set your basket down upon the stone tiles and untied the black cloak from around your body, laying it down gently onto the stone floor to create a small cushion. You descended upon your knees, a neutral-colored bodice with short sleeves adorning your figure. Aimlessly, your eyes wandered the altar, trying to remember how your family did it before.

When you were all together…

Father, Mother, and you…

It felt so long ago.

You pushed back the urge to cry as your gaze landed on the throne, a feeling of strength overwhelming you. You lowered your head, closed your eyes, and began to speak and recollect the words your father uttered all those years ago.

“‘O’ Mighty deity of protector and strength. I…I call upon you on this night to ask for your presence.”

You declared with a shaky voice. After a moment, only silence followed and filled the quiet sanctuary.

Fear and worry filled your being. After your father said those words, you remembered feeling a warmth, a rush, a feeling, something!

The only thing you felt was the heat from the candles and the excruciating silence that seemed to span on forever. Your lips trembled, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks.

Did your deity turn his back on you?

Was that why he wasn’t listening?

The thought only made you sob even harder. You lowered your head to the ground, placing your forehead against your cloak.

P-Please…Miguel. I-I need you.”

You cried, the sound of your weeping being the only thing heard after your desperate words.

It felt hopeless…

It felt like you could feel his presence, but he just wasn’t answering.

Like he was just…

There…

Watching…

In the midst of your sobs, a strong hand cupped your chin, lifting it up.

In alarm, your eyes snapped open coming face-to-face with what you deemed utterly impossible.

“Lift your head mortal. You have shed enough tears.”

The booming voice of your deity said, his crimson eyes holding its divine blend of stoicness and softness as he gazed down at you.

You were unable to speak, only capable of staring back in shock.

Your mighty protector smirked, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb before pulling away. The mere action sent a wave of heat throughout your body, the urge to cry and the sensation of sadness melted from your being.

Unable to keep your eyes off his mighty figure, you watched him walk away from you, his majestic scarlet robe trailing behind him whilst he walked up the steps of the stone platform to take a seat in his throne.

You still couldn’t believe he was here, blinking once, twice, thrice to make sure you weren't mistaking the sight.

Miguel O’Hara, your town’s powerful and divine guardian was, indeed, before you. Your eyes traveled to his seated being, taking in every part of him.

In the dimly lit sanctuary, the great deity sat on his throne. His tanned muscular frame exuded strength, a declaration of his divine might. His dark hair cascaded in waves, framed a chiseled face of stoicness. Crimson eyes stared down at you, the dancing fire of candles and torches reflecting off his red orbs.

Draped in celestial attire, Miguel wore a flowing robe of deep scarlet, adorned with intricate golden patterns. Atop his head, a circlet of gold laurel leaves styled his thick brow and around his neck hung a pendant, both signifying guardianship. To complete the divine being's attire, golden sandals that were crafted with celestial elegance dressed his feet.

Despite the times you came here with your family, Miguel’s appearance was a first.

There were legends and rumors that drifted through the village of his presence gracing the eyes of mortals, but many believed it untrue—but here he was, before you, sitting in his throne with a posture so perfectly regal and straight it was astonishing.

You didn’t know what to do or what to say; his previous touch seemed to be burned into your cheek. With a stunned expression, you stared up at the mighty deity who returned your shocked look with a stern gaze that shook you to your very core.

He then raised a thick eyebrow, his eyes still locked on you. “You appear surprised, yet you summoned me, mortal.” His deep voice seemed to echo inside the small space. You exhaled, breathing out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Y-Yes, mighty deity. I-I did call upon you.” You stammered, not knowing what to do and hastily lowering your head in a bow while remaining in your kneeled position.

You thought you were dreaming. That this was all just a moment occurring in your time of slumber, but the thunderous voice heard before you said otherwise.

“Lift your head and state your reasoning for summoning me, mortal.” He said in a gravelly tone, one that contrasted greatly with his previous touch and soft gaze.

Like the mighty being ordered, you lifted your head, meeting eyes with the deity once more, and instantly you lost the ability to speak. All thoughts escaped your mind as you gazed up at him.

He was majestic just like he was described, painted, and sculpted by mortals; yet, standing before him in the flesh surpassed every interpretation drawn by man.

His tanned skin seemed so radiant and flawless, and his body looked taut and perfect. It didn’t help your stunned state that he was very attractive, despite his face being completely hardened and cold.

“Human. State your reason.”

He repeated, knocking you from your trance. Your lips quivered, trying to find the words, and when you did, you held onto them tightly, not letting them go.

“M-My name is Y/N. I’ve resided in Nueva Yorkhaven since my birth and I-I need your divine assistance, great deity.” You muttered with a voice of little confidence. Deep down, you were still shaken up at the fact that he was here before you, in all of his greatness.

Although the belief of him making an appearance to villagers was thought to be untrue in Nueva Yorkhaven, it was said if he did appear, you were special.

So were you…

Special?

You didn’t feel like it.

The celestial being grunted in disapproval at your words. “Y/N…it’s been ages since I’ve seen you here at my sanctuary, yet you ask for my assistance.” He stated in a rumbling voice that unsettled you like an earthquake.

Your lips trembled, shame visible upon your facial features. “Y-Yes. I-It’s, indeed, been a while since I’ve come to g-glorify you, mighty protector.” You said, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes due to worry about how this interaction would go.

“I see…” He uttered, his piercing crimson eyes still trained on your small being before his altar and throne. “I hope you have brought a tribute along with your presence, Pequeñita.”

Hastily you nodded, opening the case of your basket and taking out the many offerings you had brought for your divine protector— apples picked from Sir Hawthorne’s garden, a woven beaded necklace made by your mother from your youth, cooked empanadas that you knew were the deity’s favorite, and something that you cherished deeply— the last letter written by your deceased father.

You placed each item in a neat arrangement upon the surface of the altar. “I hope you accept my offerings, ‘O’ great one.” You whispered, your voice carrying a blend of hope and reverence.

Miguel’s eyes lingered upon the sacred surface, taking in your tributes from his throne to settle his gaze upon the cooked meal. “Hmm, empanadas.” He uttered, his voice holding satisfaction at the sight of the delicacies. “You know your deity.” He chuckled, giving you a brief glimpse of his sharp fangs that gave a formidable aura before he turned his gaze back onto you.

“Wonderful choice of offerings, Cariño. I'm deeply pleased.” The great being said, filling you with relief. “As well, I am happy that you have come back to me after all this time.” He said, a comforting smile spreading across his tanned lips that brought a sense of warmth inside.

You placed a hand on your heart, giving your deity a deep bow once more. “I am grateful for your comforting words, mighty deity.” You said, a satisfied grunt leaving your protector’s lips at your appreciation.

“Now, tell me, mortal. How can I assist you?” He asked, his crimson eyes seeming to draw you in as well as his fanged smirk. You gulped, apprehension filling your being at his anticipated question.

You were aware of the reason you sought the great deity, but you didn’t know what other way for your life to be fixed if not for the dreadful request you were about to utter.

“Great deity, I…I need you to…

Get rid of my husband.”

You said in a trembling voice. A deafening silence filled the sanctuary after your shocking request, one that even seemed to surprise the great being.

His thick eyebrows rose on his face, his regal posture faltering upon his seat. “You want me to…get rid of your husband?” He inquired, his powerful voice demanding clarification and certainty, bringing you to nod.

You’ve heard of the great being ridding your village of bad people, of individuals like murderers, thieves, and outlawed criminals who came to seek refuge, but he’d done it of his own free will.

There wasn’t a story where a villager asked for the assistance of the protector to eradicate anyone, so it felt odd and a little scary to be the first.

Miguel hummed, his crimson eyes roaming over your being before returning to your face. “Pequeñita, I cannot lie - your request surprises me.” He said, studying you as he spoke. “Your husband is Alden Hawthorne, is that correct?”

Your eyes widened at your mighty protector’s knowledge of your husband, but you should have known - he watched over the villagers of Nueva Yorkhaven, after all.

“Y-Yes, protector. Alden Hawthorne is my…husband.” You replied, finding it hard to prevent yourself from speaking in disdain at the role the horrible male had in your life. While you spoke you kept your head lowered in a way that still showed respect but attentiveness to your great deity.

Miguel hummed at your agreement, shifting to rest his elbow on the armrest of his stone throne and placing his chin onto the knuckles of his divine hand that was covered with golden bands. The change caused his scarlet robe to ripple with his movement and the light to bounce off his circlet golden laurel leaves that sat upon his head.

“Alden Hawthorne.” He scoffed. “The foreigner who has entered my lands and who hasn’t even come to meet me?” He asked in disdain—it seemed Sir Hawthorne hasn’t made a good impression with your villager’s mighty guardian.

“Great deity, y-you are correct. Sir Hawthorne, i-isn’t from Nueva Yorkhaven. He comes from New England.” You said. “Sir Hawthorne also doesn't know of your divine presence upon our lands.” You explained to him in a shaky voice. A surprising fanged smirk spread across his tanned lips at your explanation. “You do not have to be formal when it comes to him, Pequeñita.

It’s just you and me.”

His words made your heart flutter. At your guardian’s request, you realized what you’ve been saying. Alden and your mother had taught you to always speak of your ‘husband’ in such a way—to always address him formally. It had become such a normal thing for you that despite despising your husband, you still did it.

Even now before your great deity, you were speaking such a foul name.

You bowed your head once more in appreciation. “O-Of course. I-I will not be formal when addressing him, ‘O’ great one.” You said, a little too delighted at the thought of deserting such a name that gave you a sense of freedom from your dreadful husband.

“As well as me.”

The divine being added with a small smile. Your eyebrows furrowed, not believing what your great deity just said. You looked up at him to see his crimson eyes gazing back at you, still holding their sternness but now a hint of tenderness was found.

It felt odd for him to ask you, a mere mortal, to abandon the formal names that were meant to be used to glorify and show his divinity. It was hard to abide by such a surprising request, but for your great protector, you would attempt to.

“I-I will try my best, M-Miguel.” You whispered, his name still holding the same weight when you read it upon the sanctuary entrance.

Miguel smirked proudly, leaning back in his seat and resting both of his hands on the armrests, using his thick finger to trace patterns into the stone of his throne as his scarlet eyes never left you. “Good mortal. Now, this…Alden.” The divine being said, returning back to your request at hand.

“I knew of him to be a problem when he first stepped into the village of Nueva Yorkhaven.” He said with a disapproving head shake. “No good comes from mortals who think of themselves as gods.” He growled, his lips turning up into a scowl. He looked at you once more, his crimson eyes settling on your kneeled being before him. “Tell me, what problems has this mortal caused in my lands?” Miguel inquired, his face hardening.

You wetted your lips, preparing the words that you were to tell to your mighty guardian. “Alden Hawthorne shows little interest in knowing your divine greatness upon our lands.” You began. “He…built a home by taking down the sacred trees of the village, and he uses others to serve him… l-like a deity.” At your words, Miguel’s thick eyebrows narrowed, his crimson eyes seeming to darken. “This mortal is living off the backs of people - My people?”

“Y-Yes, Miguel.” You confirmed causing him to snarl, his eyes wandering the room in rage before settling on you.

He looked to be sensing something, his crimson orbs glowing for a second, while his finger tapped the armrest of his throne in steady, thunderous beats, all the while keeping his intense gaze on you.

It was rather unnerving…

“But that isn’t why you want him gone…Is that right, Y/N?”

His surprising question struck you right in the heart. Every cutthroat word, demand, and task that Alden had given to you came rushing back in an instant.

“Y-You are right. T-The words I previously spoke i-isn’t the reason I want Alden gone.” You sniffled, trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall down your cheeks. Miguel’s eyes softened, his attention drawn to your trembling being. “Speak to me, pequeñita. What has this…foreigner done to you?”

His question only made the harsh memories flood back to you like a tidal wave. You shakingly exhaled, blinking back tears. “Frankly, if I were to recollect every wrongdoing that Alden has ever done to me, I’m afraid, you’ll be here forever, Miguel.” You confessed sadly, just remembering everything Alden had done to you was like an endless web of thorns, each holding a prickling reminder of the pain he has caused; some greater than others.

“Then forever, I shall be.”

Miguel’s deep voice filled your ears, brimming with comfort and warmth that instantly soothed your broken heart. Meeting his eyes, you found his enchanting red orbs holding love. “Tell me, Cariño,” he urged. “I might already know what you will say, but I want to hear it from your beautiful lips—if you may, my dear.” Your heart fluttered at your deity’s compliments and endearing names.

You knew speaking of this would only make you more emotional, but you knew you must.

For your deity you’ll do anything…

Before you spoke, Miguel gave you a small smile. “And if you may, will you come closer? I want to see you before me.” He asked, his request leaving you stunned once again. No one was ever to transverse further than the altar, but at your divine protector’s wishes, you rose to your feet.

Your bodice trailed behind you as you walked up the stone steps of his platform to step directly in front of him. His divinity seemed to radiate from him. One could instantly feel Miguel’s superiority and it made you want to kneel and glorify him.

You kept your eyes on your feet as even when he was sitting, Miguel still towered over you. A small chuckle passed his lips when you felt his divine fingers take hold of your chin, lifting it up to meet his gaze.

“Are you ready to begin, pequeñita?” He inquired, his intense gaze causing your legs to tremble slightly. You wet your lips, nodding slowly. “Y-Yes, Miguel.” You whispered. He gave you a fanged smile and released you to settle his hands on his armrest, giving you a nod to begin. You took a deep breath before starting from the beginning.

“M-My mother married me off t-to Alden two years ago.” You said, trying to hold back the agonizing desire to burst into tears. “I never liked Alden, ever since I casted my eyes upon him for the first time - he was prideful, egotistical, and a womanizer.” You explained.

“O-Our marriage wasn’t consensual from the start and as time passed I felt like I was losing control of everything. M-My mother led my life like it was her own, driving me to seal my dreadful fate with Alden in the spring.” You said in a trembling voice, a tear beginning to stream down your cheek at the recollection.

You couldn’t meet your great deity’s eyes, certain you’ll break down into a fit of tears; so you pressed on without casting him a glance. “A-After the wedding, t-the honeymoon occurred…” You trailed off, that horrific night coming back to you. A shaky exhale passed your lips, the trembling of your body only intensifying.

A large, rough hand was placed on your waist, the tremors instantly coming to a halt. “You do not have to dwell on details if it pains you so.” Miguel voiced calmly, stroking your waist with his mighty thumb.

With a small sniffle, you nodded slowly, deciding to continue, bypassing that painful night. “I-I was forced to live with him afterward, a-and he was hoping that I would bear a child for him.” Your voice quivering as you spoke. Miguel’s face remained unshaken, but the subtle tightening of his fingers against your waist revealed his inner turmoil.

Once you caught your bearings you continued. “I-I couldn’t help but be a little relieved when I discovered that I-I wouldn’t. T-The doctors were trying to be modest when they spoke to us, but we discovered that Alden couldn’t bear himself a child even if tried.” You said.

“H-His body couldn’t will it.”

To your surprise, a small smirk spread across Miguel’s lips at your words. “Ah, you see everything must be balanced, Cariño.” Miguel uttered. “Alden constantly took from the world, in turn, his ability to reproduce was taken from him.” He said so wisely with a voice of might. A greater burst of relief and satisfaction filled your being at your deity’s words.

“I-I’m grateful for that occurrence, Miguel. Very much.” You said very appreciative, recalling the many days and nights you spent stressing and worrying. Miguel caressed your skin through your beige and black bodice, the mere touch making your body burn up. “You are welcome, pequeñita, and you may continue.”

With a nod, you proceeded. “Because of his inability to create, Alden became angry at everyone and everything, but especially me.” You sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “He began to treat me unwell, such as demeaning and speaking vulgarly to me in such a ridiculing manner.” You tried to explain in a stable voice, but failed miserably. Miguel listened intently, his mythical eyes never leaving your being as you spoke.

“Alden Hawthorne made me into his personal servant, and when he saw that wasn’t a harsh enough punishment; h-he made things worse by giving me impossible tasks to complete and dehumanizing me.” Your lips trembling horribly as you recalled the terrible memories. “A-And for two years, I've lived this horrific cycle of degradation a-and harsh labor and…

I just wish to be free…”

You said sadly, allowing your final words to fill the air. When you looked up at your great protector, he was fuming. Miguel’s eyes were darkened and anger could clearly be seen in his facial features despite his attempt to keep a hardened face.

You’ve never seen your deity so furious, even the flames upon the candles and torches inside of the sanctuary seemed to intensify with his growing rage. “He’s really done these things to you, pequeñita?” He inquired through gritted teeth and sadly, you nodded.

He growled, baring his fangs in fury. “So this useless leech believes he can come to my lands, live upon it and use and hurt my people?” Miguel hissed, his hand continuing to caress your waist in a soothing manner despite his palpable rage.

You didn’t know if to be scared or appreciative of his shared disdain for Alden. Your divine protector’s anger was causing the entire room to heat up, the flames of the lights to burn larger with his rising fury. His narrowed crimson eyes moved in thought, his large hand lifting from your waist to settle on the armrest of his stone chair.

Miguel's stern gaze landed on you, a deep exhale passing his tanned lips, causing the raging fire of the torches to settle.

“Allow me to consider your request…”

He said as you hastily lowered to your knees before him, casting your eyes to the ground.

During judgment, the great being would go into a state of complete thought. Like you've read in your youth, during this time, he'll become knowledgeable of the outcomes of his choices and if the human before him is worthy to be graced with their request…

And depending on their request, they could be struck down by Miguel himself in the place they stand…

You chewed your shaky lip, anxiety overwhelming you like an overflowing well. Being the first villager with the request of eradicating a human, it could be seen as murder, a disruption in the land of Nueva Yorkhaven.

Your mind raced of what would occur.

Would Miguel deny you your request, send you back to your life of torment and anguish by Alden, or strike you dead where you stand?

But there could be a possibility he does neither…

That he'll grant your request and you could finally be graced with the peace and freedom that you've yearned for…

However, you didn't want to get your hopes up…

If living by your mother's cruel words and residing with Alden Hawthrone has taught you anything is that hope strikes the heart deeper than any weapon when used carelessly.

And right now, you couldn't be careless to believe you'll reach the light at the end of the dark path.

It'll only wound you even more if you do…

So, with a pounding heart, you awaited your great deity's next words, chewing your bottom lip raw and clenching your bodice so tightly that your knuckles turned white as you waited…

…

“I've come to a decision, mortal.”

Your heart dropped, harshly gulping. Shakingly, you looked up to meet your deity's piercing crimson eyes, his face completely devoid of emotion. Giving him a curt nod to show your attentiveness, you prepared yourself for the worse—that he would reject your request and even worse, punish you for asking him such a thing.

You were shaking in fear, full of anxiousness of what he decided that your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“With the request that you've traveled to ask me Y/N, I've come to the decision to…

Complete it…”

Your eyes widened, everything seeming to have come to a stop. You were certain you had stopped breathing. “W-what?” You stammered breathlessly, looking up at Miguel’s stoic face in surprise. “I’ll rid the world of your husband, like you asked.” He said, your heart skipping a beat at his clarification.

But before you can utter your astonished appreciation, his next words made you freeze.

“But, you must do something for me in return.”

With furrowed eyebrows, your shock face turned into full of worry as you gazed up at your deity. You wanted Alden gone, but you were a little concerned at what the price you’ll have to pay to do so;

However, your desire outweighed your fear.

Hastily, you bowed your head once more, pressing your forehead onto the stone tile before his mighty feet. “W-whatever you need, Miguel. I-I’ll satisfy it.” You declared in a voice full of desperation.

A hum left Miguel’s lips, before he ran his fingers through your hair, the action causing you to look at him. His piercing crimson eyes instantly meeting your poignant ones.

“Don’t agree until you know my terms, Cariño.”

He uttered mysteriously causing a knot of anxiety to build inside of your belly. You nodded slowly, chewing your bottom lip. Miguel leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on your kneeled being before him. “I spoke previously about a balance. You do remember that, right pequeñita?” He inquired, causing you to nod. “Y-Yes, I remember.” You told him, a little worried about how the balance of life was important when it came to your request; it didn’t help that Miguel’s face gave no hints on what he could possibly mean, making you even more nervous.

“I’ve never had one of my people request to take the life of the living. Due to this wish being from a mortal, I must demand something in return.” He explained, tapping his finger against his stone armrest. You wet your lips, looking from his large hands that were decorated with gold rings to up at his mighty tanned face. “And…w-what do you require, Miguel?” You asked, feeling your heart quicken. Your great deity’s eyes narrowed, his face turning completely stern.

“I must keep the balance in Nueva Yorkhaven or chaos would go rampant upon our lands.” He said, keeping his crimson eyes on you. “So if I take a life…

I must replace it…”

Miguel trailed off, his words repeating themselves over and over in your mind, yet you were still puzzled about what he needed in return. “Miguel…I-I do not understand.” You honestly said to your great deity, and Miguel didn’t hesitate to tell you.

“If I am to kill Alden Hawthorne, you must bear me a child to replace the life taken, Y/N.”

His voice seemed to echo and bounce off the walls of your mind, repeating itself for eternity, but you still couldn't believe what your great deity needed from you.

“Y-you want me to bear a child for you? In return for Alden being…gone?” You asked in astonishment. Miguel grunted in agreement, only making you even more baffled.

“But…a-a deity mating with a human is forbidden.” You reminded the great being even though you already knew his knowledge of the ancient laws. Miguel nodded at your words. “Indeed, but when it comes to…circumstances such as this, the laws are allowed to be bent.” He stated, his words causing a wave of heat to fill your being.

“So, Y/N…will you accept my terms in exchange for Alden Hawthorne to be eradicated or leave my sanctuary without my divine assistance?” The great deity inquired, his crimson eyes trained on your kneeled being before him. You could feel his gaze traveling along your body as you pondered your decision.

‘If I agree, Alden will be gone, things can go back to the way they were before his appearance into my life…but I'll have to bear the child of my great protector — and not just any child, a demigod!’ You thought in disbelief, chewing your bottom lip.

‘But if I do not, I'll return back to my dreadful life of sorrow being a mere servant to a man who I'm to call my ‘husband.’’ You pondered, trying to discover which choice would be better.

The thought of returning back to Alden was a nightmare, but you couldn't help the uncertainty that was bubbling inside your stomach like a potion being brewed by the village doctor at the thought of bearing such a mighty being. It felt like a huge responsibility, one that you weren't confident you would be able to handle.

You lowered your head in respect, gripping the fabric of your neutral-colored bodice in your fists. “M-Miguel, I…do not believe I-I’m the right person for this task.” Sincerely you told him in a trembling voice. “I-I want A-Alden gone, but I’m afraid of disappointing you.” Your words of ambiguity reverberating off the walls of the ancient sanctuary before fading into silence.

The feeling of Miguel’s piercing gaze upon you was intense as he grunted in understanding. “I comprehend your reluctance to agree to my terms, but without me, your fate will be jeopardized, my dear.” The divine being said, his deep voice causing you to lift your head and meet his perfectly chiseled facial features once more. His face still held its stoicness, but his eyes, like before, held a look of tenderness that made you warm inside.

Miguel leaned towards you, the scarlet robe shifting slightly to give you a glimpse of his toned pec underneath as he cupped your face in his mighty hand. “With my child, you would grow stronger.” He said, his eyes wandering your face whilst his fingers held your cheek with such gentleness. “This child shall heal all the wounds of your heart and return the joy you’ve lost back into your life, Cariño.” He explained, his expressions full of love and compassion, the most emotion you’ve seen since his appearance.

“This baby is your refuge— your solution if you wish to live in peace and happiness once more, Y/N.” He cajoled, the more he spoke, the more enticing his deal was…

Miguel, of course, was right…

The thought of having a demigod, a mighty being, a child would, indeed, help everything…

Before departing from your dreadful mother, she spoke heavily about you bearing a child—one that she could care for and love.

During that time, you didn’t understand her reasoning, only seeing it as her not loving you anymore and wishing to replace you, but it wasn’t that at all.

Your mother was wishing for something to fill the hole in her heart that was created when her husband, your father, passed away. She yearned for a grandchild that could help her mend her sadness and grief, which her desires blinded her from the pain she was causing you. This revelation changed your view of your mother. Over the years, you’ve grown to despise her when really, she was broken just like you.

Perhaps, like your great protector has said, this child could fix everything. With their mere divine presence, they can restore the good in your life and return it to how it was before…

Your mother, back to her happy and loving self.

Alden Hawthorne gone.

And lastly, peace and joy being restored to your life.

If this child was to impact your life this greatly, you couldn’t help but want to agree to these terms.

It seemed as if it was your last hope.

Your last chance to make things right…

Miguel stroked your cheek with his thumb, drawing you from your thoughts and back to the grand decision beforehand. “So what will it be, Cariño?” The divine being asked, his eyes seemed to glow with hope and reverence, the look rather foreign on the great protector. After thinking it over, you knew your answer, causing you to give him a hesitant nod.

“I-I agree…” You uttered sincerely. “I’ll bear your child and bestow upon it the love that I could only have wished for in my years of being with Alden.” You affirmed, keeping your eyes on the deity and holding the confidence in your voice.

At your declaration, Miguel gave you a warm, fanged smile. “I’m delighted to hear your acceptance of my terms, querida.” He said, caressing your cheek with his mighty fingers before pulling away.

"But may I confess something in return?"

He inquired, returning to his regal posture with his arms positioning themselves upon the stoned rests of his throne. You were intrigued, yet worried about what his confession could be.

Was it about the child?

Your fate?

What secrets could possibly be shared from a divine being to a mere mortal?

It was a troubling thought...

Giving him your approval with a nod, you shifted on your knees into a comfortable position, awaiting the deity’s confession.

Miguel smiled, keeping his crimson eyes on you. "I’m known as a being of protection, a divinity that is to guard the people of Nueva Yorkhaven, but that is my only role— it’s what I was created to do." His deep voice echoed off the walls of the sanctuary and blended well with the flickering of candles and torches inside; but to your surprise, the deity’s usual stern expression suddenly saddened.

"But recently I’ve grown to want more…"

He uttered, silence following his words. You were stunned at his confession, never wondering from the great protector’s perspective that possibly he could desire something other than being a guardian.

You felt sympathy for him…

"What is it that you want?" You asked with a compassionate voice, one that seemed to be new to the great being. His thick eyebrows furrowed and his posture faltered. Miguel tilted his head at you, confusion found in his usually stoic facial features. "I’ve…never had someone ask me such a thing." Miguel admitted, a soft and uncertain chuckle passing his lips. The mere question of his desires seemed to cause him to be unsettled.

"M-My apologies." You began. "It’s just…humans always come to you with requests and desires, and you consult them each and every time." The words being pulled from your being as your mouth continued to move. "Yes, we bring you offerings and tributes to thank you, but what is it that you truly want, Miguel? What is it that you seek but believe it’s too far away that even you cannot seem to grasp?" You sincerely asked.

Miguel’s crimson eyes widened, his defined Adam's apple moving with a hesitant gulp "What I desire sounds rather silly, but it’s a mortal want, something as a deity I find to be impossible to obtain." He said with a small laugh, the riddle troubling you. Miguel smirked, taking in your confused expression.

"I desire love, little one."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. You weren’t expecting that to be what he wanted from the world. Like he had stated, it sounded like a human desire rather than from a great being that has lived upon the world for many, many years.

Miguel took in your face as he shook his head, a snicker passing his tanned lips. "I know, a silly desire from a great being as myself, but I want to love like you, humans." He said once more, his expression turning into one of deep thought.

"I do not mean love as in worship, but intimacy and connection…I want to experience what it is that causes mortals, such as your mother, to not be able to live on without the presence of their loved one." Miguel said, looking off whilst he spoke.

"I want to feel the beating of the heart and the flutter of the stomach that you humans write of in stories and tales. I desire a love that drives and strengthens me; one that courses through my being and is the reason I breathe." He admitted so vividly that it could be seen as he turned his red orbs back to you. His eyes seemed to slightly glow a bright red hue.

"But that isn’t what I wish to confess to you, Cariño."

You were even more surprised than you were before at his words. "W-What is it that you'll l-like to share, Miguel?" You muttered with a voice stained with anxiousness. You were nervous to ask what he really wished to reveal that was even more shocking than what he stated before.

Miguel’s entire face hardened, his stern eyes trailing along your being, taking in every part of you—the aged bodice that framed your figure perfectly, the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, and the failed effort of taming the unkempt hair upon your head.

Even in this state, something was happening and it troubled the great being immensely.

"You’ve…done something to me."

He simply stated, causing your breath to become stuck in your throat. "W-what?" You asked in confusion and fear, not understanding what he could mean. "You’ve done something to me, human." He repeated, his piercing gaze never faltering from your kneeled being.

Your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, his statement leaving you completely bewildered. Despite how troubled you were by his words, you kept silent, looking down at your lap as Miguel's thunderous voice filled the sanctuary once more.

"When you arrived and called out to me in tears, I couldn’t stop myself from appearing before you," he stated. "When you told me your request of wanting your husband gone and your reasoning, it made my heart behave…oddly, especially when you did what no human has ever done and asked me what I desired." He tried to explain; however, his gravelly voice was laced with rigor and disarray.

Your heart dropped at his explanation of these "odd" feelings he was experiencing.

‘He’s not feeling what I think he’s feeling, is he?”

You pondered, biting your lip and rising slowly to your feet. “M-Miguel, I do not wish to speak out of turn or assume incorrectly, but is it perhaps that you are experiencing what you desire…?

Love?”

As if a lantern was sparked inside of a dark forest, Miguel’s eyes widened. “It…It’s possible.” He replied in a suspicious voice while his gaze roamed along your figure once more before settling on your face. “To be honest, I’ve found you captivating since I first saw you in my sanctuary, Y/N.” He confessed with a small smile. “But it did sadden me to hear the debacles in your life.

I would’ve eradicated Alden sooner to prevent them.”

His tone was completely cold and serious as he looked at you, but your heart fluttered at his natural protectiveness, something you wished you had alongside you in the years of being Alden’s wife-servant. “But…with your help, we can fix them now.” You whispered, remembering the terms of your agreement with the great being that brought a smile to his lips.

“Indeed…” He replied in a tone that he, perhaps, didn’t mean to sound erotic but made your cheeks burn nonetheless. You gulped, trying to regain your composure. “And…how would this be done?” You inquired, believing it to be a divine touch of his hands upon your belly would magically create a baby into your womb.

But this was far from a fairy tale…

“To seal our terms, we must perform it in connection to one another.” He explained.

“As one.”

You suddenly felt like fainting. The thought of experiencing that, with the great protector, shocked you more than anything you’ve heard in your time in the sanctuary.

Completely stunned, you could only look at him with an agape mouth and widened eyes. Miguel laughed. “Don’t be so surprised, human.” He chuckled, suddenly taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap.

With a gasp, you found yourself upon his thick thighs, your legs resting upon the taut muscles. Your cheeks reddened as instantly you were aware of how close the two of you were—the divine silk of his scarlet robe and your bodice being the only obstacles between the two of you.

You gulped, the action not helping your rapidly beating heart like you hoped. Snapping you out of your thoughts, Miguel cupped your cheek in his large hand, caressing your skin with his thumb as his crimson eyes roamed along your face.

“I know your first time was…painful,” He said sympathetically, continuing to stroke your cheek soothingly.

“But I’ll be sure to replace that memory to be something truly wonderful.”

He promised, his other hand moving along your side, feeling your body through your bodice. A shaky exhale passed your lips, eyes fluttering at the sudden intensity of sensations that were coursing through your being. You believed that due to his divinity, it was causing everything to be more heightened, every touch seeming to linger and burn into the surface of your skin despite fabric blocking his bare touch.

You couldn’t help but nod in approval, craving his divine touch. Miguel smiled, drifting his hands down to run along your legs, disappearing under your bodice to bring your housekeeper dress up and over your head. He dropped the neutral colored bodice on the ground beside his throne, revealing the white chemise that covered your bare body underneath.

He sucked in a breath at the sight, caressing your thighs and rear. “So beautiful, little one.” He purred, placing a hand to the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss. You instantly gasped as he kissed you passionately, massaging your chewed lips with his tongue before entering your mouth to taste you.

You’ve never experienced intimacy in this manner, allowing him to take the lead and bashfully returning the kiss. Miguel’s arms wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him whilst he continued to kiss you. Every part of his being wasn't left unnoticed.

It was impossible.

It was hard to ignore how his pecs pressed into your peaked chest through both of your clothing, his burly arms and muscles that held you snug against him, and his thick thighs that flexed underneath your legs; even the intensity of his body heat was causing your core to throb in desire, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Everything about your deity was slowly blinding you, like a heavy fog was briskly clouding your mind with the only light source being him.

You wanted him, needed him to be able to see clearly again, and Miguel, like always, was there to cure your debacle.

He pulled away from your lips, the lingering buzz and taste of him still on your tongue and mouth. “Are you ready?” He asked, caressing your bare thighs soothingly, his suggestive question causing a pit of uncertainty and fear to fill your being. The memory of your dreadful honeymoon with Alden rushed to the surface along with the excruciating pain, sorrow, and the suffocating feeling of helplessness that followed.

Miguel instantly saw the fear that grew upon your face, bringing him to take your chin in his powerful fingers, his eye contact with you, unshakeable. “What occurred with Alden will never happen again,” he sternly said, his crimson eyes roaming your face, taking in every expression.

“If you are worried, the pain will not exist with me; your body will be too consumed with…other feelings that it will not allow it.” Miguel reassured, stroking your cheek. “And if, by chance, the pain does occur, don’t hesitate to speak—to tell me to cease, and I will. Do you understand me, querida?” The great protector inquired.

With trembling lips, you couldn’t help but nod, wholeheartedly believing his words of assurance. In Miguel’s arms, you’ve never felt safer, and you trusted that he would make this intimate experience with you enjoyable.

The deity gave you a smile, reaching down to undo his robe and drawing back the scarlet fabric to reveal his perfectly defined olive pecs, abs, stomach, and thighs; but what instantly got your attention was the enormity that sprung up from the red fabric to rest against your belly.

In all of your life, you’ve only seen the male’s intimate part once, and it was with Alden; but his was nothing compared to the great being’s.

Miguel’s tanned member was large and thick with a bulging vein and an angry mahogany tip. It pointed up to the ceiling, perfectly erect and hard. The sight intimidated and aroused you as you looked up at Miguel with stunned eyes. Miguel chuckled at your astonished expression, running his fingers through your hair. “We will take it slow,” he said, consoling you once more.

You bit your lip, looking back down at the size of his length, trying to imagine how it’ll possibly fit.

It seemed incredulous.

Your eyes snapped up at Miguel at the feeling of his hand beginning to draw your white chemise up, revealing your bare rear underneath. A heavy blush spread across your cheeks at being exposed in front of your mighty protector, drawing a laugh to rumble from his chest at your flustered state.

His crimson eyes looked down at your exposed crotch and up at you. “Do you mind if I touch it?” He asked, his tone sweet and not wanting to overstep. “I just need to see if you are…

Ready.”

Miguel explained, but you didn’t understand what he meant. Your mother had never gone into thorough detail when it came to intimacy, only stating this was how babies were born and what occurred, other than that, you were lost.

Nevertheless, you placed your trust into your mighty protector, giving him a nod. You assisted him by lifting your chemise to your stomach, allowing him more access to your sensitive area whilst you nervously awaited for his touch.

Miguel looked pleased at your approval, moving his ringed fingers between your thighs to run the pads of them along your folds. You sucked in a breath, eyes instantly becoming hazy at his divine touch. Miguel clicked his tongue at your lack of saturation before pulling away. He looked up at you, meeting your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. “You aren’t…wet enough.” He stated, causing your eyebrows to furrow as he continued. “We’ll have to get there before we begin.”

Despite your perplexity, you followed his every word absentmindedly. Miguel placed his hands on your waist and slightly lifted you upon the girth of his cock. He groaned softly, his length laying against his stomach while your folds rested on the base of it. You moaned softly at the feeling of his warmth and hardness in between your folds.

Miguel looked up at you, a fanged smirk on his lips as he rocked you against him. The most unlady-like sounds began to be pulled from your throat at the sudden bursts of pleasure; his cock sliding between your folds and pressing into your sensitive bud with each push and pull of your hips upon him.

The great being grunted and groaned, his crimson eyes looking between the grinding of your pussy along his cock and up at you. “How does it feel?” He inquired, but you were unable to speak.

The pleasure was so intense and foreign, a tingling sensation seeming to sprout from your core and throughout your body. With clouded ears and dazed eyes, you noticed the divine being snicker softly, satisfied that you were enjoying it.

He gripped your hips tightly with his large hands, grinding your body along his cock with much force and speed causing your heavy gasps to change to loud moans in an instant. A wetness began to spill from your core, coating your thighs and his cock with each nudge of his base and tip into your swollen bud.

In all of your life, you’ve never felt this blissful. Naturally, you overheard the many housekeepers at Alden’s mansion speak of this type of intimacy with their husbands and lovers—of euphoric feelings that were so addicting, one could become entranced by the activity.

At the time, you couldn’t understand…

Your time with Alden Hawthorne was anything but enjoyable and euphoric as the ladies spoke of, but now…

You understood what they meant…

Everything about this moment was what they described—euphoric, blissful, and most of all, addicting.

Your hands landed upon his broad shoulders, a heat pooling at your stomach as you took control, sliding your hips forward and pressing your core along his base with each grind. Miguel’s large hand held your lower back to steady you, but his attempt in holding in his groans was intensifying the feeling.

“Just like that, pequeñita.” Miguel moaned softly, meeting your dazed gaze. “You know how to please me.” He chuckled between his heavy breathing, the praise only making your stomach tighten like the thread of a spinning wheel about to snap.

“M-Miguel…” His name fell from your lips in a whine as your thighs began to tremble and still. You were feeling like you were about to burst with each ongoing friction upon your sensitive bud.

“I can’t…Something’s c-coming.” You whimpered, gripping his shoulders tightly, blunt nails piercing the skin, but it didn’t seem to bother the divine being. At your words, you felt Miguel’s massive length twitch against your core, and a soft groan to escape his lips. “Can you hold it for me, pequeñita?” He inquired in a stable voice, despite being so aroused. The tension in your belly only heightened at his request, however, you bit your lip, nodding.

Miguel grinned at your willingness and obedience, soon effortlessly lifting your body and standing from his throne. You gasped at his suddenness, his large hands holding your bare thighs and pressing you closely to his muscular body. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your white chemise fell down your body to cover his large hands that rested upon your legs.

When you met the great being’s face, the look he held was different and very unexpected. His crimson eyes were brimming with love and affection, but something that you’ve only hoped your true lover would cast upon you. The sight made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flutter.

The thought of a great being such as him feeling this way towards you, despite all that you’ve been through, made you feel profoundly grateful and touched. Everything about him felt heavenly, like this moment was the world apologizing for what it had put you through, and you couldn’t have been more thankful…

He walked to the side of his throne, lowering you to the floor without breaking eye contact with you. Your white chemise covered your figure once more, whilst Miguel’s hands were placed upon your waist to turn you around. You followed along with his wishes, giving him full control. He gently laid you across the armrest of his stone throne and pulled your chemise up to rest on your hips once more, revealing your bare bottom.

You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling a wetness sliding down your thighs at the longing for the addicting pleasure he could bestow upon you. A contented groan left the lips of your protector at the sight of your rear, his massive, ringed hands moving to roam the soft skin of your bottom. You moaned softly, the need to release was still evident in your belly, but only intensified with every divine touch of his hands upon your body.

You suddenly became aware of how massive and close the deity of protection was. His body heat was like a furnace on a cold winter night, his mere presence being able to warm you in an instant. His toned pecs and abs were palpable against your back through your chemise as he leaned over your body. The great protector’s hard cock poked against the back of your thigh causing your wet core to drip along your legs. Miguel’s lips grazed along your ear, the feeling sending a wave of heat to sprout through your body.

“Are you ready for me, Querida?”

He asked, seeking clarification in case of you regretting your decision; but you could sense he hoped you didn’t.

The many fearful and anxious thoughts overwhelmed your senses once more, but his sweet kisses along your ear and cheek were causing them to fade. “Y-Yes.” You replied hesitantly, still nervous about performing such intimacy that always terrified you after Alden.

Miguel was relieved but still sensed your hesitance. His large hand caressed your stomach through your white chemise and continued his soothing kisses in hopes of calming you. “Trust me.” He whispered into your ear. “I promise, it would not feel how it was with Alden. It’ll be better.

I’ll make sure of it…”

You always found the traits of the great beings fascinating, one of them being their inability to deceive. The deities could only speak the truth which only made you believe his words even more.

“O-Okay.” You replied, taking the hem of your chemise in your hands to cope with your anxiousness but to also grant him better access. The sight only made Miguel smile, thankful that his words were able to settle your troubled thoughts. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek before pulling away.

Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest as you felt him slide his tip along your soppy folds, the squelching filling the room. “Take a deep breath for me,” Miguel told you, stroking your hips.

You took a deep breath, inhaling deeply, and upon exhaling, he pushed his length inside. A loud moan erupted from your throat, fingers gripping the chair at the intensity of your stretched core.

“G-Goodness, you are…so tight.” Miguel groaned into your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. His enormity filled you up completely, and to your surprise, you didn’t feel pain as you thought, only pleasure that only heightened when he bottomed out. He groaned, kissing along your neck. “How do you feel?” He asked, his voice full of lust and desire, his hips stilled to allow you to adjust to his massive length.

You could only frantically nod, your stuffed core quivering in delight at how wonderful the sensations felt. Miguel smirked, pulling out to the tip before slamming back in, causing you to release a choked moan. It was as if an avalanche of pleasure crashed into you and overwhelmed your every sense with the suffocating emotion. At your wonderous response, the great deity began to slowly thrust into you, dragging his massive length into you and sliding out.

In all of your life, you’ve never felt something so good and addicting. Your unkempt hair spilled over his throne whilst the most unladylike sounds were pulled from your lips with every smack of his hips against your rear. “Such pretty sounds you are making for me, Cariño.” Miguel cooed behind you, wrapping an arm around your stomach to hold you close.

The great protector kissed along your neck, nipping softly and grazing his fangs along the skin. It wasn’t long before the tension in your stomach returned. You whimpered and moaned, the improper sounds of skin and squelching bouncing off the walls of his sanctuary as the divine being took you to your blissful end.

“M-Miguel, I- something’s coming.” You whined through body tremors and the clenching of your walls. “You may let go, querida. Give it to me.” Miguel moaned breathlessly into your ear, aiming his rhythmic thrusts to attack your sensitive spot over and over.

Unable to hold it any longer, with a loud cry, you released the pent-up pleasure that was building in your stomach. Your eyes rolled, body shaking horribly in Miguel’s arms. Suddenly a rush of euphoria overcame you, making you weightless, like a feather being drifted off into the wind.

Miguel’s hips never ceased their movement, rutting into you as his grunts louden against your ear. "Are you ready to be mine, querida? To bear our child?" He asked, his pace quickening.

The blood rushing to your ears and the pounding of your own heart made his words faint, but nevertheless, you heard him. Frantically you nodded. "Y-Yes. I'm...ready." You told him through breathless gasps and the slapping of his hips against your rear.

At your final approval, a guttural groan escaped his lips as he burrowed his length deep inside you and released his warm, hot essence into your womb. You could feel his thighs tensing up against your legs and his toned chest heaving on your back whilst he filled you; granting you a child and fulfilling the terms...

The sanctuary was now laden with both of your heavy pants and the small flickering of fire upon the torches and candles. A comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as Miguel slowly pulled out, leaving you empty and longing for him once more.

The great being kept you in his arms, seeming to not be able to let you go…

Not like you wanted him to anyway.

It felt like forever since you were loved, and in Miguel’s arms was where you were cherished.

But like all good things, they must come to an end…

“Your request will be completed, Y/N,” Miguel promised against your backside, caressing your stomach through your white chemise. In your moment of pure bliss, you’ve forgotten the reasoning behind the shared passion between the great being and yourself.

His words brought you back to the harsh reality that you’ll have to eventually leave him…

He pulled away, fixing the scarlet robe upon his mighty, chiseled body whilst you also got dressed, drawing down your chemise and adorning your neutral-colored bodice once more. When you were finished, you turned to look at Miguel to see he was already staring back at you, his crimson eyes holding adoration in them.

He walked up to you, his divine body towering over your form. “Y/N…” He said your name upon his mighty tongue, making your heart flutter. You looked up at him, trying to calm the desire to avert your eyes due to how intense his gaze was. “Y-Yes?” The inquiry leaves your lips in a timid voice. Miguel gave you a small smile, cupping your face in his large hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I need you to promise me something.” The great being uttered, his words greatly intriguing you. “W-what is it?” You asked, willing to do anything for him.

The divine being’s eyes roamed over your face, taking in your every facial feature. “In all of my years that I’ve traversed this world, I’ve never experienced something like this.” He confessed, tracing his fingers along your jaw. “You’ve done something that no human has ever done, Cariño.” He whispered, leaning closer to you, so close that his breath fanned against your lips.

“You’ve fulfilled the wish of a deity and have set my heart ablaze.”

You sharply inhaled, staring at the great being with widened eyes. You wanted to believe that his words were false, that the great protector of Nueva Yorkhaven had mistaken his feelings of love for you as something else; but the truth of the most alluring trait about the deities continuously filled your head.

He couldn’t lie.

He was created unable to…

His words of adoration and affection were all real. The great being loved you out of all mortals and that thought only made you even more confounded.

You wet your lips, meeting the red-eyed protector, and taking in everything about him: his morals, values, greatness, natural will to protect his people, and even his physical appearance with his perfectly sculpted body, chiseled face, dark wavy hair, and beautiful, scarlet eyes.

In all your life, you’ve never fallen deeply in love, you were never given the chance to—being forced into marriage with Alden severed your ability to find love for yourself, however, after all this time, you believed you’ve succeeded.

You’ve fallen in love with your divine protector...

“I…love you too.” You said, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about it. Miguel’s thick eyebrows rose briefly in shock to soon settle once more. He hastily pulled you into a kiss, his plush lips interlocking with your own in a passionate entanglement that seemed to go on forever.

When he finally pulled away, he kept you snug against him, his arms protectively wrapped around your body. “I want you to promise me you’ll never love another—that your heart will always burn for me as mine does for you,” he uttered, his deep voice filling the small space between you and adding to the tender moment even more.

Unbeknownst to him, his promise was an easy one...

In the pit of your stomach, you knew from this moment onward, things would never be the same, and you were content with that.

When you first pressed your lips against the great protector’s, it was as if you were being reborn, your wretched life leaving you as a new one welcomed you.

Once you leave this sanctuary, Alden Hawthorne would be like a terrible nightmare that never occurred. Your mother and yourself could mend the relationship between the two of you, and you would always have a piece of Miguel with you even if he wasn’t there physically, holding you in his mighty arms.

And you were satisfied with that…

Like the sun emerging to dispel away the shadows from a long, dark night and bring light across the lands, goodness was being revived into your life all because of the might of Nueva Yorkhaven’s great protector—Miguel O'Hara.

Looking up at Miguel with glossy eyes, you smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a loving embrace.

“I promise.

I’ll love you till my last breath.”

A/N: Thanks so much for reading my oneshot! Shoutout to the wonderful anon who gave me the request, there is still more to come for you, but I hope you enjoyed it!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog and follow! If you would like to add a request to the kink series or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask! ❤️

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne

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semisolidmind · 2 months

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How do you think season 5 would’ve gone in your Bad End or Twice As Bad AU?

ok, so

y'know how, since season 4, mk has been going through the whole “i don’t want to use or even acknowledge my monkey form because it makes me feel like a monster” thing? well, bad end/twice as bad mk doesn’t have that hangup to address, because he’s spent his entire life up until the shows’ events in that form, training and living in it. he knows no other way.

he is an incredibly powerful monkey demon; he is the harbinger of chaos, and he's fine with it.

his “mortal” form is the one he’s been having visions and confrontations with. (i imagine the ink curse in s4 using his mortal form to taunt him about being weak now that he's got mortals he cares about– "keep on compromising for them, and you'll end up just like them; too small and insignificant to ever make a difference.")

instead of having to face his fear that he may be dangerous (because as a crazy powerful monkey demon trained by the two other most powerful monkey demons in the universe, of course he is), his mortal self is trying to tell him that he doesn't have to be a monster like wukong. death and rampant destruction don't have to be his legacy.

the mortal mk in his meditative visions tells him that caring for his friends doesn't make him weak or undeserving of his power and lineage. the visions he has during the guardian trials (and the guardians themselves) tell him that in order to be a real hero, he has to care about those that his training would tell him are "lesser" than him (also that his friends aren't worth less just because they don't have a ridiculous amount of power).

mk would learn to accept that every being in the world has value, regardless of their status. nuwa would tell him this as well, when he meets her.

season 5 would be bad end/twice as bad mk's journey of accepting that he has a mortal heart, and that caring for others has immense power all on its own. he must choose to be the change to the status quo.

he'd always known he was an "agent of chaos," but the events of season five cement in his mind that he was brought into the world for a reason. just that now, he alone gets to decide what that reason is.

----------

as for his mentors...

getting captured and re-bound by the gold fillet wasn't exactly on the monkey king's itinerary, and he's majorly pissed. he levels the surrounding area about it, and decimates all of the soldiers sent to subdue him (regardless of how agonizing the tightening spell is; the pain just makes him angrier). he breaks every ward and barrier placed against him, tears apart any enemy who dares to come close. his rage is a force to be reckoned with.

wukong had sworn he'd never be subjugated by heaven ever again; he's definitely not just gonna let this slide. the celestial realm will suffer for their breach of the tentative peace they brokered by leaving the monkey king well enough alone.

as the only one that gets captured after his fit of rage, he only has to get himself out of celestial prison. easy, despite how many wards are placed on his cell (it's not like heaven has ever been much of a threat to him before, after all). he has to get back to the group, for his family's sake. nothing will stand in his way.

macaque only barely dodges getting locked into a fillet as well, and uses his advantage to launch a sneak attack on nezha and li jing; this forces them back and gives the gang their chance to escape in the chaos caused by the monkey bros.

the shadow general takes the distraction provided by wukong's rampage to get reader and everyone else somewhere safe. from there, the gang helps mk find all the stones, defeat the guardians trials, and eventually make their way to the pillar.

both wukong and macaque try to stop mk from sacrificing himself (in-between fighting the nine-headed demon), and reader tries to talk him down from it. however, she can't argue with the look of quiet determination on his face..she knows that he's made up his mind. with tears in her eyes she embraces him, then lets him go.

wukong tries to go after him, but one look at reader stops him. she's...she's accepted his decision. just like she always has. maybe...maybe this time, wukong should too. he sheds tears and holds onto his wife... but doesn't follow his son into the pillar.

the world goes silent, before bursting back to life.

the stones are destroyed, the nine-headed demon dissapears, and things go back to almost normal.

----------

—i imagine reader, with her skills as a peacemaker developed from her centuries as queen of flower fruit mountain, is the one who keeps everyone calm and grounded throughout their ordeals. she's gotten to know them all through her adopted charge, and keeps them on track.

—now it'd make sense for reader to be left relatively safe on ffm, but given the state of the universe in this season, the monkey bros aren't about to let her out of their sight (weird end-of -the-world-again family road trip). they don't care much for the rest of existence, but even they have to acknowledge that they'd prefer the world and their mountain unbroken.

—the pagoda sequence is a very emotionally tense one for reader and the boys in twice as bad. reader relives being stolen and the early years of her imprisonment; after they break her out of the hundred eyed demon's spell, she won't look at either of them and flinches away when they try to touch her; little does she know, her husbands relived the same thing (plus all the other bad shit they've done). they've learned enough compassion for her to feel a bit of shame.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #spoilers kinda

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: 2/22/22

summary: carmy receives bad news that changes his life forever, while you're relationship with him comes to a head. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only), death, grief, mentions of suicide, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language

word count: 5.5k

listen to: hurting kind - del water gap | robbers - the 1975 | hostages - the howl & the hum

a/n: i need therapy after writing this. so sorry bbs love you all. ok but fr, i thought that i was going to write a smut scene that was not going to be hot bc we know it's canon that carmy does not fuck and then it ended up being really hot and i'm once again asking for therapy.

read: chapter three

2/22/22

Something happened. Can you come over?

That’s all the text said. It’s all that needed to be said for you to drop everything you were doing and hop on the subway. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you imagine every single worst case scenario possible. Carmy had given you little context in regards to what this was about, and you almost regret not asking as your mind runs rampant with possibilities. Not that he would’ve given you an answer. Something about him seemed different. He’d never sent that urgent of a text.

Not even when the restaurant was slammed and he needed you to come in on your day off.

Something happened.

The words continue to echo in your head until you reach him.

You're at Carmy’s doorstep faster than you ever thought your feet could carry you, and when he opens the door for you, your heart breaks. He’s wrecked. His face is a flushed red, though you don’t think it’s from crying, and he looks like he hasn’t washed his fuckin’ hair in days. You take in his somber expression, like all of the joy he’s ever experienced has been sucked out of him.

Carmy steps aside, allowing him into your apartment.

He mumbles something you can barely hear, gesturing towards the couch, so you follow him, taking a seat on the crappy couch you’ve come to love. He stares at the floor, his eyes cold and empty, as you sit in silence.

It’s you who breaks it, bursting at the seams with anxiety.

“Carmy, you’re scaring me,” you say softly.

He keeps his eyes fixed on the floor as he licks his lips, swallowing as he opens his mouth to say something. It’s a few moments later that he’s finally able to put two words together to tell you what happened.

“It’s Michael,” is all he manages to get out. You can hear the break in his voice when he utters Michael’s name, and you’re terrified of what he’s going to say next.

“Your brother?” you ask, secretly hoping he won’t say yes.

You feel your stomach drop.

Carmy nods slowly, “Yeah.”

He takes a few beats before saying anything else, his head swimming. On one hand it doesn’t feel real, and if he doesn’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t be. There’s a part of him that still thinks this is some cruel, sick joke that Mikey cooked up, just to fuck with him.

But he knows it’s real. He could hear it in the way that Sugar’s voice broke on the phone. He could hear it in the way that Richie practically screamed at him to stop being such a fuckin’ cuck and come home. He knows it’s real, because for the first time in years, his mom’s called him.

Must be Sugar or something calling from her phone for her…. ‘S gotta be, he thinks to himself.

“He’s-,” Carmy starts, before stopping again. Carmy looks away, in the opposite direction of you, focusing his eyes on something outside of the window.

He can’t look at you because if he looks at you, he might lose it.

“He’s dead.”

“Oh Carmy,” you gasp, your heart wrenching in your chest as the words leave his mouth. You reach out to touch him, but he flinches, pulling away from you.

“No,” is all he says through gritted teeth.

You cannot touch me. You cannot make me feel better about this because I’ll have to feel worse about this, is what he wants to say.

“The fuckin’ asshole shot himself on the State Street bridge. I don’t-, you don’t get to make me feel better about this,” he snaps, his tone almost a warning.

“Fuck,” you sigh, sitting up straight and leaning towards him. He may not want your comforts, so you’re going to give your presence. He had asked you to come over after all, right? “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, coldly.

His response is jarring, leaving an unsavory taste in your mouth. You understand that he’s just gotten the most unimaginable news, but it doesn’t sit right with that he’s taking it out on you either. Is that why he invited you over? To be his punching bag? Instead, you decide to pivot to crisis control-mode, hoping to remedy some of the animosity he’s harboring.

“Okay, well, I’ll call Kate and let her know that you can’t come in tonight, if that helps. Just so you don’t have to-,” you suggest.

“Why would you fucking do that?” he yells, snapping his head towards you as he finally turns towards you. You can see it in his eyes: how angry and devastated he is – at Michael, at what happened – and even though you know it’s not personal, it stings all the same.

“Because!” you shout back. “Carmy, you just found out-... something terrible. I just don’t think you should-.”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my mom and you’re not my girlfriend so,” he’s quick to retort, rebelliously.

You scoff at him, shaking your head in utter disbelief.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Carmen,” you cut him off with a yell. You know he’s hurting, but this is where you draw the line. “I’m well aware that I am not your girlfriend, but I am your friend, and I care about you.”

You’re right.

He knows you’re right.

He knows he’s being a dick, but it’s like he can’t stop his own rage from spilling out sideways as yells:

“Well, if you don’t want to be here, then get out!”

“Stop it!” you cut him off, venom in your voice.

Carmy looks at you, his bloodshot eyes wide with utter despair.

“You called me, Carmy. So shut the fuck up and let me fucking help,” you lower your voice, bringing the confrontation between the two of you back down.

With his eyes fixed to the floor, his mind zoning out to numb the pain, he manages to get out, “I don’t want to-. I need to go to work tonight.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you plead softly, yet firmly.

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to make that decision,” he dismisses.

He’s right. You don’t.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, giving in.

It’s a horrible idea – for Carmy to go into the restaurant – but you know he’s going to do it anyway.

“What can I do for you in the meantime?”

“I just-, I don’t think I can be alone right now,” he mumbles, averting his eyes once again. “Can you just like… sit here with me? Till we gotta go?”

“Yeah.”

The afternoon passes slowly, and you feel like the both of you have been lit on fire – only a matter of time before you burn his whole place down. As you’re getting ready to leave, Carmy sprints into the bathroom, emptying what little contents he has in his stomach into the toilet. You’d been aware that he’d been having some trouble – throwing up before work – but he’d refused to see a doctor. Another decision he’d made clear wasn’t yours to make. What you weren’t aware of was that it had gotten this bad.

Like you’d imagined, going into the restaurant had been a mistake. It hadn’t taken long for Carmy to blow up at a line cook, mid-shift, over an undercooked duck breast. Sure, it was a big mistake, but Carmy had sent the line cook home after making a very public example of them. After the event, Tim had urged Carmy to take a break, offering to expedite for a few, while you rushed him into the walk-in.

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you chastise him.

“He’s a fucking idiot! How do you undercook a fucking-,” Carmy yells, his face twisted into a look of disgust.

“Carmy!” you shout, stopping him mid-sentence.

You both know this is not about the duck breast.

You share a moment of silence together, the cold of the walk-in leaving goosebumps on your skin. You lower your voice, a quiet and intentional demand leave your lips as you instruct:

“Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?”

He nods in response, his lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. You watch him pace a few times, before he clutches at his chest, his breathing becoming more uneven.

This is why coming in had been the worst idea ever.

“Carmy, are you o-?" you start, genuinely worried about him. You feel like your head is spinning. Carmy is losing control and all you can do is watch.

He holds out a hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you leave him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in fills your ears, as you close the door to the walk-in behind you. You feel like your heart is caught in your throat and watching him go through this is more painful than you could’ve ever imagined. You take a deep breath before returning to your station, keeping your head down for the rest of the shift.

Dinner service is pure chaos as Carmy undulates from unbroken focus to volatile and unpredictable throughout making the evening hell for the rest of you. The tension is thick, and it’s as if everyone is walking on eggshells around him, more so than normal. By the time it’s over, you insist on walking Carmy home. You make a stop at your favorite deli near his apartment to pick up a quart container of matzo ball soup on the way.

“You gotta eat something,” you encourage, the silence in his apartment deafening.

You’re met with silence as he stares blankly at the table in front of him, his spoon dipped into the soup. Instead, you sit with him, watching him take a few sips of the broth, while the actual food in the soup goes untouched. He doesn’t have the stomach for it.

He doesn’t know if he has the stomach for this either.

All of this. Any of this.

You eventually give in, packing up the soup to put in the fridge for another day, even though you know he’ll probably just toss it when you leave. Just when you think it’s time for you to go, he stops you with the most tender touch to your arm, as he asks:

“Stay?”

His eyes are watery, and although he’s going to let himself cry yet, he looks more vulnerable than he’s looked all day. How could you say no?

“Yeah,” you agree.

You change into one of your favorite t-shirts of his and the pair of sweatpants that he always seems to give you as you get ready for bed. He doesn’t even wear them anymore, as if he knows they’ve become your favorite… as if they’ve just become yours. You spend the evening with the TV on, not talking, just sitting in each others’ company. You watch as he smokes a cigarette inside, stress-running a hand through his slicked back hair from his shift earlier.

Tonight feels heavy.

Tonight is heavy.

Before bed, you fill up a glass of water for him, before placing it on his bedside table. Carmy lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as you crawl into bed with him.

He’s too afraid to his close his eye, because if he closes his eyes he’ll picture it: the State Street bridge, Michael….

How could he? he thinks to himself, the bitter taste of betrayal welling up at the bottom of his throat.

You close your eyes, trying your best to fall asleep next to Carmy – something that feels like an impossible task when you can practically hear him thinking out loud beside you. Instead, the two of you just lay there, frozen in silence. You’re not sure how long you’ve been doing it for when you feel Carmy shift closer to you.

He turns to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body, earning the smallest gasp of surprise from you. You’ve never seen him like this as he buries his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours. It’s then that you realize he’s crying, and you know it’s highly likely that this is the first time he’s cried since he heard the news.

“Carm?” you whisper, unsure if he wants you to acknowledge it or not.

“Carmy.”

But he doesn’t respond. He just cries.

So you let him.

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you whisper, over and over again.

You stroke his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you know there isn’t much you can do. Instead, you let him cry, running your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort you can. This is breaking your heart. You fight the tears coming to your eyes because this is so not about you right now.

Carmy’s body shakes against yours as he finally lets go, surrendering to the huge waves of pain and grief that crash and pull him under. He feels like he’s being taken under a riptide, never to see the surface again. He knows he’s been wildly unfair to you and as he weeps against your body and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve someone like you.

Someone who chooses to say, even when he’s being a dick.

Someone who cares enough to fight with him.

Someone who cares for him like this.

When he finally looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, all he can think to do is to kiss you.

It catches you off guard as he surges forward, pressing his lips against yours, that for a moment, you let him.

But reality hits and you’re afraid he’s gotten too carried away, swept up in a moment of grief.

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you murmur, pushing him away.

He leans his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, almost as if he’s given up on the idea. You feel like he’s put you in an impossible position. You’d have been lying if you said you didn’t want to – hadn’t thought about kissing him before – but this felt wrong. He was vulnerable, and you know you’ll both regret it in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you apologize quietly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence only makes you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” is all he says, cutting you off mid-sentence. With the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the sun, the moon, and you hang the stars, you’re not sure how to say no.

Carmy leans in to kiss you once more before whispering mere inches away from your lips:

“Please.”

He presses his lips against yours again, immediately regretting his past self for not doing this sooner. He’s never tasted anything sweeter than you, and the way you kiss him back seems to bring all thoughts flooding his brain to a halt.

In between kisses you manage enough self control to stammer out, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes,” he replies, as if it’s a declaration.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he pleads, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he begins to leave across your collarbone. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good,” he repeats.

You surrender, letting go of your own ambivalence as you focus on the way his lips feel against your skin. It’s then that you realize what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you. For a moment, you’ll tear down the walls, the rigid boundaries that you’ve kept to help you compartmentalize your relationship with Carmy.

There’s no possibility of hiding from it when his body feels this good so close to yours.

The truth is that you are fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other.

“Yes,” you parrot.

With your confirmation, his mouth is back on yours, as you’re pulling him on top of you, deeper into your shared passionate liplock. He wonders why he’s denied himself the pleasure of having you, for this goddamn long. His tongue slides against yours, a tender hand moving up to cup your face. The way his name sounds tumbling out of your mouth sends him into a frenzy. It feels absolutely intoxicating and he can’t get enough.

Carmy’s hands begin to wander, fingertips sliding at an experimental pace underneath the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing. You shudder against his touch, gasping as you anticipate where this is going.

Carmy raises his head to look at you, not sure if it’s a good thing or not.

“This okay?” he asks you, concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah,” you nod, giving him permission. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing you again, dragging calloused fingertips up and down your torso underneath the shirt, hesitantly making their way to where they’d like to be. You’re not wearing a bra, he realizes, as his fingertips find soft, supple skin at the rounded bottom of your breast. He follows the shape of it, before bringing a cautious palm up to grab hold of the fullness of your breast. You arch into his touch, encouraging him further. Carmy takes his time exploring your body, giving you the lightest touch as his fingertips graze your nipple.

“Can I take this off?” he questions, only willing to move forward if you say yes.

You nod, breathlessly, “Please.”

You watch as he sits up, pushing the hem of your shirt up over your breasts, revealing your bare body to him. He has to hold back a groan, swallowing hard.

Carmy stops what he’s doing, in pure awe of you, as he marvels at you. He can’t believe this is real: that you’re here, laying in his bed, allowing him to do the things he thought could only live in his head.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” are the words that tumble out of his mouth and you think you may cry.

“Touch me,” you whisper desperately, begging him to come back to you.

“Touch me, Carmy.”

Carmy lays his body over yours, and you spread your legs wider, allowing him to fit perfectly between them. He begins to roll his hips against yours as he returns his attention back to your bare breasts. He drags his fingertips over your erect nipples, following his touch with his mouth.

He practically groans as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, earning a strangled whine from you as his hot, wet mouth engulfs you.

“Carmy,” you moan, arching into him.

He’s rolling his hips against your clothed core on pure instinct, as he takes his time, now exploring unfamiliar territory with his lips and his tongue. You find a good rhythm as he continues to drag his mouth over you, grinding your hips into his underneath your remaining clothes. He’s surprisingly good at this – something you hadn’t expected considering he’d let you know he didn’t have much experience when it came to dating. You assumed that that meant sexually as well.

As Carmy moves to your other breast, you feel one of his hands snake under the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, lifting his hips so he can feel you. You know you’ve soaked through your cotton panties from the anticipation, and it goes right to his dick as he feels just how wet you are. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but he’s seen in porn. He begins to rub circles across your clothed core, while he busies his mouth with exploring your other breast.

But he’s not quite where you want him.

“Wait,” you say, stopping him.

Had he just gotten caught up in the moment?

Did you not want to go this far?

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks you, a concerned tone in his voice.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, I just-.”

Instead of explaining, you reach down to grab his hand, guiding him just a little higher up to your clit. He presses the rough pad of his index finger against it, finally touching you where you need him, gasping to let him know that he’s found the right spot. His eyes are locked on you, watching your face change as the new spot you’ve shown him brings you more pleasure than he could’ve imagined.

He practically groans into your mouth when he hears the way you whine his name, and he swears he’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

“There?” he asks you, rubbing tight circles across your clit.

“Yes,” you pant, growing wetter with every touch.

Carmy pulls away just for a moment, daring to touch you underneath your panties. You’re so wet for him, and he thinks he may lose his mind as he slides his index finger in between your folds curiously.

“Take them off,” you practically demand.

“Hm?” he hums, lost in the way you look at him with hooded lids and pupils blown out with pure desire.

He’s never been this guy.

The guy that gets the girl.

He never knew he could feel like this guy, but here you are, begging him to undress you.

“I said take them off,” you repeat yourself, more desperate this time. You take a lighter approach with what you say next, the smallest giggle in your voice. “And while you’re at it, we gotta get you naked too.”

“Yeah,” he says, with the kind of conviction he’d say ‘heard’ with.

He’s stripping off his shirt, and you’re sliding your pants and underwear off with him.

“I have a condom in my emergency kit,” you say, the both of you busy shedding your clothes.

“Yeah?” he asks you, relieved to hear it. He hadn’t thought that far yet.

“Yeah, hold on,” you reply, getting up from the bed.

Carmy thinks he may pass out as he watches you stand, giving him a full view of your naked body. You disappear only for a moment, before returning with the small emergency kit you always keep in your backpack. It’s equipped with all the ‘just-in-cases:’ tampons, panty liners, safety pins… condoms. You pull out a single condom before returning to the bed. Carmy’s kneeling on the bed, and you mirror his body language, doing the same.

“What would you like to do?” you inquire softly.

As turned on and hot for him as you are, you want to make sure that he still wants to do this. He finds himself surprised at your question, not sure how to answer it.

“Think we can just pick up where we left off?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you reply.

You place the condom down beside you on the bed, before leaning in to press your lips against his again. He inhales as you kiss him, his tongue immediately sliding against yours as one of his hands goes to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. He’s surprised as you pull away from him, beginning to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his neck, his chest, and he hisses in anticipation as run your hands down his muscular abdomen, following with your mouth.

“Hold on, I uh-,” he stutters out, as he anticipates where you’re going with this.

You pause, sitting up tall as you kneel, your body across from his.

“I just uh… if you do that, I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he admits, a blush running across his cheeks.

“Yeah, no. Totally cool,” you reassure him, before crashing your lips against his once again.

As you tangle your tongues together once again, Carmy begins to lead you down towards the bed, pushing you back, and climbing on top of you. He still has his sweatpants on, so you begin to bring your hands down to them. He hisses as you cup his rock hard erection, pleasantly surprised by what you feel.

“Wanna take these off?” you ask in between kisses.

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, sitting up for a moment.

You wait with baited breath as he strips his sweatpants off, wondering if he’s as thick as he feels. You’re practically pulsing, squeezing around nothing as you finally see him, Carmy, your best friend, fully naked.

God, he’s beautiful.

How had you not noticed how physically attractive he was?

It’s not that you hadn’t noticed. It’s that you hadn’t let yourself think about it.

You reach over to where you left the condom, handing it to him. Carmy takes it, a blush running across his cheeks as he rolls it on, still in disbelief that you’re about to do this. He returns to you, laying his body over top of you as you space for him once again between your legs. He’s hesitant to give you his full bodyweight as he gives you a long, passionate kiss. And before he knows it, you’re reaching down to stroke him, and he’s thrusting into your hand, his breath becoming heavier and heavier.

You feel him as he presses his tip against you, rubbing it up and down before pushing into you. You both gasp as he gives you shallow thrusts, testing the waters, thrusting deeper into you with each one.

He pauses, exhaling as he’s fully inside of you. You’re pulsing around him, practically causing him to lose his mind with the way you feel alone.

“Fffffuck, you feel good,” he moans, trying not to cum right then and there.

He begins giving you shallow, hesitant thrusts, unsure of himself. He wants to make you feel good. And he’s also terrified that this is going to end before it’s even properly started.

Carmy stops again, pausing within you.

“Sorry, I just-.”

“No, it’s okay. Take your time.”

He’s nervous. You can tell he’s nervous and that he’s trying not to cum.

“How about… I take control?” you suggest, hesitantly. “And that way, if you need me to stop we can um… well, you can just tell me.”

“Uh… yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Sure.”

Clumsily, the two of you switch positions, making sure he knows you’re okay with this. As he lies on his back, staring up at you, you straddle his hips, giving him the smallest smile. You reach down, guiding him into you once again. You gasp as he fills you, his thick cock stretching you, especially in this position. Carmy’s hands go to your hips as he watches you take him.

“You feel really good too, Carm,” you finally say, your hands moving to his chest to brace yourself as you begin shifting your hips forward and back at the most unbearably slow pace.

Carmy thinks he must be dreaming as he watches you ride him. His hands slide over your hips, wrapping around your body so that he can touch your butt. He’s practically digging the pads of his fingers into your hips as you begin moving over him at a faster pace.

“Shit… you’re really good at this,” he groans, as you lean down to kiss him.

You giggle against his lips, and whatever thoughts he has in his head disappear. Carmy begins thrusting up into you, his hands on your hips encouraging you to move a little faster as you kiss him. You’re moaning his name, whining as you feel every single inch of his cock slide against your walls, becoming more and more breathless by the minute. Your gasps turn into moans, getting higher in pitch as you go. His hands are guiding your hips, taking some control back as you grind against each other.

“Carmy,” you cry out as he thrusts his hips hard into you. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” he asks. You nod, breathless, as you bury your face into his chest.

He holds your hips down, pinning you down against him as pushing his hips into yours.

“You wanna switch?” he asks, breathless. “Can I-?”

“Please,” you reply eagerly.

You switch positions once more, and as Carmy guides himself into you again, you can tell he’s much more confident than last time you’d found yourself in this position. You wrap a leg around his waist and he holds you there, beginning to move his hips against yours again. He works his way up to a rapid pace, his face turning red as he does, and you’re writhing underneath his body, whispering the dirtiest things into his ear with every single thrust.

“Holy shit, Carmy. You feel so goddamn good too,” you praise him. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah?” he manages to get out in between grunts.

“Yes. Please let me cum,” you beg him, as he hits that spot inside of you, earning another loud cry.

“Don’t stop.”

He’s surprised to learn that he likes it when you beg as he tangles his fingers with yours, pinning you down so that he can fuck you. With your hand in his, so close to your climax, you let slip:

“I thought about this too. I’ve wanted this for so long too, Carmy.”

“Fuck,” he howls as he drives into you, his sole purpose to earn more praise from you. To hear you cry out his name. To give you what you’ve been begging for.

You angle your hips upward so that he can go even deeper, hitting all the way to the back of you. You’re grasping at his back, his arms, his biceps, hanging onto any piece of him that you can as he shudders, letting out the most guttural sounds. You’re squeezing around him, as he takes you to your high. The feeling of you cumming, squeezing around him like your life depends on it drive him wild, and he’s fucking you through it, the feeling of your orgasm bringing him to his.

As you finally come down, you pull Carmy in for a searing kiss.

“Holy shit, Carm,” you say, breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he pants against your lips.

Even if just for tonight, all feels right in the world.

This feels right.

The light of day is sobering. Before Carmy’s even had a chance to open his eyes, the events of the day before come flooding in, running in vicious circles around his mind: the phone call from Sugar, Richie screaming at him… and then….

Fuck.

He’d crossed the line with you.

He doesn’t know whether to be mad at himself or devastated that he fucked up, considering he’s sure as hell not going to let himself feel anything about Mikey yet.

Michael.

Michael’s dead.

And he might’ve done the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do – the one thing that he’d been afraid of: that he might just lose you.

As you stir in bed next to him, slowly blinking your eyes open, you turn over on your side. Carmy’s sitting on the edge of the bed and you can see Carmy’s stuck in his head. While you’d let yourself surrender to whatever that was last night, you knew today was different.

“Hey,” is all you say, hugging Carmy’s bed sheets closer to your naked body.

“Um… listen. We don’t have to-,” you begin, searching for the right words. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? I don’t-. You’ve got a lot going right now and-.”

You take a breath. You know the two of you can’t be together right now, even after your revelation last night.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Carmy swallows, fighting back the emotions that begin to swell in his chest.

He feels sick to his stomach.

But he doesn’t want to do this in front of you.

“Yeah, no. We can… we can just forget it,” is all he gets out, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You sure?” you question.

He takes a beat before answering:

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

And even with the declaration you’d made – the promise to forget since neither of you could afford to lose each other – things had become different. In the weeks following, your communications with Carmy were less than normal. While you understood he was processing, grieving, he’d withdrawn from you, and it hurt more than you had the words for.

You’d check in, making sure he knew you were here for him if he needed to talk. But he put his head down, working night after night at the restaurant, cold, stoic, and checked out. You worried about him. And you also knew that you both needed some space from each other.

Some days you regret it – sleeping together – and other days, you don’t. You think that maybe everyone had been right about the two of you all along – that this had been inevitable. But it happened under the worst timing, the worst circumstances and you miss your best friend. You wish, in some ways, that two of you could just go back to normal.

read: chapter five

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #smut sunday

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2-dsimp · 9 months

Note

can u write something for yandere armin? like what if his darling actually liked him back but then ppl are gossiping about him visiting Annie and still having feelings for her? this hurts darling bc she never forgave Anine and maybe her sibling is dead bc of the female titan so she just kinda stops talking to armin???

@laughing-with-god these were catching cobwebs in my drafts but it’s finally here (^◇^;)

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Cw: Unhinged Armin! Fem! Reader, suicidal mentions, manipulative tendencies, yandere tendencies, obsessive behavior, mutual pinning

————/———-/——————————-/—————-

Is she ignoring me?

Armin questioned.

Watching you longingly from afar underneath the bangs of his long blonde hair, he began to overthink about what went wrong between the two of you. The rumors that kept circulating his mind about how you also had feelings for him. Was driving him insane with all the conflicting emotions in his weak heart.

Doesn’t she feel the same way? But if that’s true then why…?

If the rumors are true then why’re you avoiding him? The day before the both of you were in the library leisurely reading books sitting next to each other as if you were connected by the red strings of faith. The atmosphere was so blissful a lovely distraction from the chaos in a world that seems so hopeless.

But now he’s witnessing you ignoring his existence entirely almost as if he didn’t exist in your heart to being in with. And that made him anxious with insecurities running rampant until it turned into twisted delusions.

Has she found another?

No, that can’t be! What do I do? I can’t let her go. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her—

“Hey did yall hear about what’s happening between Armin and Annie?”

A distant voice snapped him out of his obsessive train of thoughts, and he automatically tuned into the conversation of gossip stemming from a group of scouts.

“Duh everyone knows that those two will hook up eventually, but my heart goes out to that girl who had a crush on him.”

Another voice chimed in with a slight huff of pity going out to you.

“Yeah, hasn’t Armin always had the hots for that Titan girl? I heard that he went to see her last night at the stables”

Armin went rigid at the mere mention that he would choose that abomination you utterly despised over you. Calming himself he couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Although, he did have an encounter with her, trust me when I say that it was far from that of a friendly front.

Now that he had a clear vision of the situation, he knew exactly what he needed to do to mend the bridge between him and his darling.

Him being all nice to Annie was just a facade to get her guard to the lowest crumbling point. The woman was already running on a half life carrying the guilt of her past warrior self. He pretended to be empathetic towards her, feeding the flames of her innermost desire to end it all by stating that she had suffered long enough by the hands of fate. And that as a former ally he’d assist in making sure she had a nice send off straight to hell.

And eventhough He knew it was wrong of him to enjoy the simpering thought of how jealous you were at the mere inkling idea that he was interested in Annie. He couldn’t help the excitement drumming along in his heart at how that was a sign of your apparent love towards him. A telltale sign of how you wanted him.

He nearly got weak in the knees at the vision of you and him getting together as a loving couple. Especially since he knew that his goal was within reach, all he had to do was set the plan in motion. In few days time you’ll soon see how much he truly loves you, and how much he’d be willing to be your faithful companion.

And what better way to show it, by giving you the chance to get revenge on the traitor you loathed with all your being.

With that in mind Armin quickly headed towards your quarters, his steps becoming upbeat with a small hopeful smile on his face while he daydreamed about you rewarding his efforts with a kiss.

#yandere armin #yandere aot #yandere aot imagines #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot scenarios #armin x reader #armin aot #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin x you #snk armin #snk x reader #aot imagines #aot scenarios #aot drabble #armin imagine #armin drabble

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lilacmingi · 9 months

Text

CAPTIVE

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Seonghwa x fem reader

Word count: 7,803

Note: Another imagine from 2022 from Wattpad! Seonghwa is a major jerk at first oof but he softens up <3

You woke up to the most maddening sound, like a commotion in the streets. You tried to ignore it, assuming it was just some drunkards in the streets. You attempted to use your pillow to block out some of the noise, which didn't work too well seeing as it only muffled the pestilent sounds.

When the noise persisted, you sat up, grumbling to yourself as you got out of bed, going to investigate the continuous racket. Shuffling to the front door, you flung it open only to be met with chaos. Families were tied up outside their houses as they were being raided, those that weren't tied up were running rampant in the streets shrieking and shouting for help. Men dressed in dingy loose-fitting shirts and cropped trousers ran about in the streets laughing and howling like lunatics. Some held large swords, using it to slash ropes around crates, others held muskets, using them to threaten civilians.

Your throat went dry as you grasped the situation unfolding in front of you. These men weren't regular thieves, they were pirates and your town was being looted.

You hurried to close your front door, only to be stopped by one of the men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"'Scuse me, lass, but it seems we haven't been in your house yet." The grimy pirate grinned wickedly, showing off his stained teeth.

"No." You spoke firmly.

"No?" He raised a brow. "You've got moxie don't you, little lady?"

"Leave."

He let out a dry chuckle. "If you don't keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, your supplies won't be the only thing I take back to the ship."

Your face immediately contorted, a deep frown of disgust pulling at your lips.

"Kiss my—"

The clicking sound of a musket made you shut up immediately.

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

You gulped. "Alright. I'll let you in."

The pirate moved to take a step inside, and when he did, you slammed the door in his face, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Why you." He growled, advancing towards you.

You didn't have a chance to escape or even fight back. The pirate yanked you outside into the dusty streets, pulling a rope from his satchel before tying it tightly around you, your arms constricted by the abrasive cable. He shoved you down, forcing you to sit on your knees in the dirt.

"Maybe that'll teach you a lesson." He hissed before stepping inside your house.

At that point, you could do nothing but sit idly and allow that sea rat to ransack your home.

Minutes passed and the man stepped out with an armful of supplies. You saw spices, a few of your candles, and even soap, which was odd because the plunderer in front of you didn't look like he had bathed a day in his life.

"Look at you sitting there all defenseless like that." He taunted.

You clenched your jaw.

"I've just raided your home and there's not a thing you can do about it." He smirked, sticking his face up in yours.

That was the last straw.

Without thinking, you thrust your head forward, giving the man a harsh and powerful headbutt. The man clutched his head in agony, the stolen items falling to the ground.

"That's it. You asked for it!" He growled, lunging for you.

He was swiftly jerked backwards by the arm before he could lay a finger on you. Someone had reached out and grabbed your assailant's upper arm. You glanced over to see who your savior was.

He was tall with a slender frame and carried a sort of superior energy. His dark hair was mostly pushed away from his face, save for a few dark strands hanging over his forehead. He wore a long cream colored coat with a corset of some sort around the abdomen area. He donned black gloves on his hands, black pants and matching boots. His face remained placid but firm as he addressed the pirate.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"She headbutted me, Captain!"

Captain? Crap.

This "Captain" turned to you, a faint smirk of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Looks like we've got a feisty one on our hands." He said, bending down to your eye level.

You spat in his face in response.

He closed his eyes in mild annoyance as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe his face. He stood upright, gazing down at you sharply.

"Put her on the ship."

"Yes, Captain."

"And clean up that mess." He gestured to the fallen (stolen) items on the ground.

"Yes, Captain."

The objects that had fallen to the ground were gathered and tossed into a sack. Still tied up, you were jerked to your feet by the grubby pirate and shoved forward down the street.

"This is absurd!" You voiced. "You have no right to be doing this!"

"We're pirates, dear. We don't care about rights."

You jerked in his grip, wanting desperately to escape.

"I don't even have shoes on." You complained.

"That's the least of your problems." The captain spoke up.

That's when the panic really set in.

What was going to happen to me? You thought.

You then began to think of the worst possible scenarios. You could end up locked in the brig, fed to the sharks, tortured, or worse. These men could do things to you—things that you would by no means consent to.

You could feel the blood drain from your face at the thought.

Next thing you knew, you were standing on a dock, the weathered wood pressing into the bottoms of your bare feet. The captain of the ship stepped up the gangplank, shouting orders to the crew still on board.

"Prepare for departure!"

He then withdrew a pistol from its holster strapped around his waist. He held the gun up to the sky and gave off two shots, the loud sound resonating in the air.

"Bring our hostage on board." He ordered the pirate who still had a tight hold on the ropes tied around you.

"Yes, Captain." He spoke, shoving you forward.

You stumbled up the gangplank and onto the ship. The crew was hard at work, moving hastily around the deck, preparing to depart from the dock.

Moments later, groups of grimy men boarded the ship, their arms laden with items that were looted from innocent civilians' homes. You frowned, saddened at the though of all those poor people with barren shelves and messy houses.

"Get a move on, will ya?" The pirate complained behind you.

You moved forward, the rough wood of the deck scraping against your bare feet.

"Captain, where should I put her?" He asked.

"Tie her to the mainmast."

"As you wish."

You tried fighting back as you were dragged towards the large, wooden beam, but it was useless. You weren't strong enough to break free, but that didn't stop you from trying. Screams of protest left your mouth as you thrashed around, making it as difficult as you could for the pirate trying to keep hold of you.

The captain merely stood off to the side and watched in amusement. A look of satisfaction spreading across his features as you were ultimately tied to the main mast. A second crew mate hurried over with thick ropes in his hands, assisting in fastening you to the mast. The first pirate that had harshly escorted you onto the ship insisted on being the one to tie you up, making sure the ropes were uncomfortably snug around you.

He gave you a nasty grin when you shifted uneasily under the abrasive restraints, content at your discomfort. You knew this would only be the beginning of your suffering.

Your entire upper body was pressed against the mainmast, you weren't able to move at all. You kept your eyes cast downwards, staring at the boards.

Captain Seonghwa strode towards you, his boots thumping heavily against the wooden deck as he held a shotgun in one hand.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You kept your gaze low, not daring to look up at him.

"Did you not hear me? I said look at me." He repeated a little more harshly.

You then saw the barrel of a shotgun in your sights. The end was pressed under your chin, lifting your face up to look at Seonghwa.

You glared at him with the most hatred you could muster, keeping a brave face.

His hard expression faltered momentarily at the intensity of your stare. He was quick to recover, putting on that same tough guise as he glowered down at you.

"You filthy pirates think you can take whatever you want." You hissed.

"We can."

"Not without consequences."

"You sure have a mouth on you." He commented, ignoring your statement as he looked you over, seemingly contemplating something. "I wonder what I should do with you." He murmured, thoughtfully, his head tilting to the side. "I could blow your head off right now... or I could keep you around for entertainment."

Your face twisted in distaste.

"You're disgusting."

He let out an amused chuckle. "I didn't mean it like that, dear. But, if you're offering, I can't say no."

You spat at him for a second time, your saliva landing right on his perfectly polished boot. His top lip curled into a snarl as he moved the barrel of his gun into your mouth.

"You'd better keep that to yourself."

Now you were scared. Seonghwa could see that. He smiled in satisfaction, lowering his weapon.

"If you don't keep that mouth of yours shut, I'll gag you with a piece of cloth."

As much as you wanted to make a snappy remark, you didn't want your speaking privileges to be taken away. You had more quips to use on Captain Seonghwa.

He turned on his heel, facing his crew.

"Prepare the sails!" He ordered, harshly. "Let's get out of here."

You watched as he strode away, going to steer the ship away from the docks. The only thing you could do was sit and watch as the giant vessel departed from the port, your ravaged town getting smaller and smaller, not looking away until it was nothing but a mere dot.

The crew busied themselves around you, not paying any mind to you at all.

So this is how it's gonna be until they let me go... or kill me.

You dropped your head, letting out a sigh. There was no use in trying to find a way out of this situation. You didn't have anything with you to cut the ropes and you surely wouldn't be able to wiggle your way out of them. You'd be stuck like this for... well, you weren't sure.

At some point, the crew mates started making their way to their sleeping quarters, the main deck getting emptier by the second. You watched as they passed you by, not acknowledging you. It wasn't long before Seonghwa walked by, heading to the captain's quarters.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. Goodnight." He responded, casually.

Just then, a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

"You wouldn't dare leave me here overnight."

"Try me." He smirked.

You were left outside.

As if your situation wasn't bad enough, it ended up raining—hard. You were left freezing cold, soaking wet, and shivering. Since you were kidnapped in the middle of the night, the only thing you had on was your nightgown, which was very thin and providing you no warmth at all. For the time being you were thankful for the ropes, as they were giving you a little protection and warmth.

You were uncomfortable and cold, yet somehow, you were able to sleep. You assumed you got so tired that you dozed off without even knowing.

You woke up to yelling, causing your body to jolt as you were abruptly pulled from your sleepy state.

Seonghwa was scolding some of his crew, telling them they need to move faster, griping that they weren't tying knots fast enough. Once he was done with his rant, he stomped off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The three pirates muttered amongst themselves as they tried to figure out what to do. They were trying to tie up the sails, which requires you to tie a bowline knot. This group seemed to not know how to do that.

"Pardon me." You called out to them, keeping your voice low.

One of them turned to you with a confused expression, wondering why you were speaking to them.

"You're not tying that knot correctly." You told him.

"Why should we listen to a prisoner?" One of them asked harshly.

"Yeah. We wouldn't listen to a prisoner, let alone a woman."

"Fine. Get yelled at by your captain. I don't care." You responded, nonchalantly.

"How... how do you tie this knot for the sails?" The one with the rope in his hands asked, softly.

"Your buddies there don't seem to wanna listen to what I have to say, so just forget it."

"No! Please. I'll listen."

You then explained to him what to do, all three of them hanging on to every word—even the ones that snapped at you.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had noticed you conversing with his crew. He also noticed how they listened to you. He was surprised to see that you knew what you were talking about.

"So you can do something besides spit and run your mouth." He remarked, catching your attention.

"My dad worked with ships a lot." You responded, casually. "I know almost everything there is to know about sailing."

Seonghwa hummed to himself, looking at you thoughtfully before walking off.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against the main mast. Visions of your home flashed in your mind. Your warm bed, your kitchen stocked with food, and the feeling of safety that came with your abode.

Heavy footsteps approaching pulled you from your daydream—it was Seonghwa.

"You just might prove to be useful."

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head in curiosity. "Does that mean you'll untie me?"

"Oh, I'll untie you—but, in case you have any ideas about jumping ship,"

You then felt something cold brush against your ankle, followed by a click sound.

"I'll have a leash to tug you back with."

Glancing down, you saw a metal cuff around your ankle, a chain laid out on the deck.

"You're chaining me up like a dog?"

"It's the only way I'll be able to keep an eye on you. If I let you loose on my ship, there's no telling what you'll do."

You pressed your lips together, holding back your irritation. He was right and you hated that.

He pulled out his cutlass, using it to slice the ropes, the thick cords falling at your feet. His eyes lingered on your figure as his tongue ran across his bottom lip.

"I was going to offer you some proper clothes, but I rather like you in this little nightgown."

The gown had long sleeves and went down to your ankles, covering you well, but his comment made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

"You're sick."

He snickered in response, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I suppose the right thing to do is to provide you with proper clothing. Follow me."

He used the chain to tug you forward, which earned him a displeased scowl from you.

He led you to the captain's cabin where he started rummaging through his wardrobe. You glanced around the space, noticing a shelf with a plethora of rolled up maps and a few books. There was a desk near the front windows of the ship. On that desk were papers, maps, books, and mapping tools.

"Here."

You turned to see Seonghwa with some clothes in his hands.

"Hurry and change."

When he didn't move, you looked up at him, expectantly.

"Don't worry. I won't look."

You gave him a skeptical look as he turned away from you. You took a few steps away from him before changing.

"I never got your name." He spoke up, his back still turned.

"You never asked."

He let out a short scoff. "So, are you gonna tell me your name or should I call you whatever I please?"

"My name is Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated, testing the name out.

You didn't think he deserved to know your name, but with the alternative you were given, you didn't really have a choice. There's no telling what he would have called you had you refused.

The moron supplied you with clothes, but neglected to consider the fact that there was a cuff on your ankle which prevented you from being able to put on pants. He removed the cuff and turned his back only long enough for you to change.

"I'm done." You announced once you finished changing into the clothes Seonghwa had given to you.

The shirt was loose, but comfortable, as were the pants, but he had given you a belt to help with that. The metal cuff was clamped back on your ankle once again, reminding you that there was no escape.

You felt much better now that you were in actual clothes, even though they were a bit baggy and belonged to the person who kidnapped you.

The captain looked you over once you were finished.

"My clothes fit you better than I though." He smirked. "The boots are probably a bit big."

"They're fine." You muttered. "Thanks."

You thanked him under your breath, hoping he didn't catch it.

"What was that, darling?" He inquired.

"I said thanks." You spoke up.

"I still didn't catch that. What?"

"I'm not saying it again."

"It was worth a shot." He sighed, playing with the chain in his hand. "Come on."

He led you out of his cabin and back onto the deck where he took the long chain attached to the cuff on your ankle and wrapped it around the main mast, securing it around the large post. Though you were upset about still being imprisoned, it was a step up from being tied up with rope. At least now you could walk around, well, as far as the chain would allow.

"Now, just because I said you might be useful doesn't mean you're off the hook. You're going to have to earn my trust."

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes. "What is it you're wanting me to do?"

"I want you to swab the deck." He told you.

"Seriously? I just proved that I know sailing knots and you're putting me on cleaning duty?"

"You proved that you know one sailing knot. So yes, you're on cleaning duty." He grabbed a nearby mop, shoving it towards you. "Bucket's right there." He pointed before walking up to the forecastle deck.

You sighed, grabbing the bucket of water, dipping the ratty mop into it. The chain cuffed to your ankle allowed you to walk around the main deck, however, you couldn't get near the railing of the ship. Even if you wanted to, jumping ship would be the stupidest thing you could do. You're out in the middle of the ocean with no compass and no boat. If you jumped ship, you'd be left treading water for goodness knows how long. Your best bet was to stay on the ship. Though, you'd love to get this infuriating cuff off your ankle.

For the time being, you'd play it cool and stay under the radar, mopping the fish gut-stained deck, the acrid stench burning your nose. You dropped the sopping mop onto the wooden boards, swiping back and forth repeatedly until it was clean. You repeated this until you had nearly half the deck mopped.

Seonghwa made sure to keep a vigilant eye on you, making sure you weren't trying anything.

At times, you'd have to move things out of the way to properly mop. As you moved a few small crates, you noticed a bobby pin lying on the deck. Glancing over your shoulder, you checked to make sure Seonghwa wasn't looking before snatching the bobby pin, swiftly sliding it into your hair as you got back to work, acting as if nothing had happened.

Once the deck was thoroughly swabbed, you sat down on a large crate to rest, glancing up at the forecastle deck where Seonghwa stood, steadily steering the large sea vessel.

"Captain!" One of the crew members called out.

"What is it?"

"Come here. I need you to come check this."

Seonghwa stepped away from the wheel to assist the man in need of assistance. You took the opportunity to get a look at the keyhole on the cuff attached to your ankle. When you were younger, your dad had a huge chest of memorabilia from old ships he worked on when he was a teenager. Unfortunately, the box was locked shut and he had lost the key, so he picked the lock to get inside the chest. That's where you learned to pick locks.

Checking again to see if Seonghwa was still preoccupied, you pulled out the bobby pin and began to mess with the keyhole on the cuff, jiggling the the pin around. Unfortunately, you didn't make any progress with it, as Seonghwa had returned to his post at the wheel. Not wanting to raise suspicion, you tucked the bobby pin away, choosing to wait for a better time to free yourself.

"Not bad, Y/n." He commented as he observed the deck from the wheel of the ship.

You scoffed, turning away from him.

The bright sun was soon replaced with the softly glowing moon, the air becoming much cooler as stars began to appear, dotting the sky above.

Seonghwa had put you to work cleaning and doing seemingly pointless tasks almost all day, which you were annoyed with. However, when night approached, he offered to let you sleep in his quarters. You refused at first, not wanting to share a bed with the tyrant, but he clarified telling you that he had a hammock you could sleep in. You agreed after that.

Seonghwa, who still didn't trust you, attached the chain to a wooden post in his room. Despite the discomfort from the metal cuff, you slept well—much better than you had the previous night.

You still wanted to leave, though.

You stayed chained up for days, being put to work cleaning and doing other things completely unrelated to sailing. You hated it. Swabbing the deck, cleaning the cannons, cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes. Chores, basically. You didn't get to anything the crew got to do. You were just a maid.

Then, one day an opportunity presented itself to you.

As you worked on the main deck under the watchful eyes of Seonghwa, his quartermaster called out for him. Your attention turned towards the forecastle deck. Seonghwa sighed, abandoning his place at the wheel to speak with his quartermaster.

You hastily retrieved the bobby pin you had kept with you since finding it, making sure no one was watching as you attempted to pick the lock on the cuff.

"Come on. Come on." You murmured under your breath, glancing around. Seonghwa was busy, his back turned as he spoke to the quartermaster. The crew was busy doing their own tasks, not paying any mind to what was going on, too engrossed in their duties. Though everyone was preoccupied, you still felt on edge, knowing that at any moment, one of them could spot you trying to free yourself.

"Come on." You muttered, gritting your teeth.

Click.

The cuff unlatched.

You gasped, frantically looking around to make sure no one saw. You stood up, preparing to sneak into the cargo hold.

"Captain." The quartermaster pointed just beyond Seonghwa's shoulder.

He turned around, following the quartermaster's finger, spotting you without the metal cuff on your ankle, sneaking along the deck.

"That little—" He hissed through his teeth, rushing down the stairs to the main deck. "What do you think you're doing?"

You spun around just in time to see the captain coming after you. On a moment's notice, you reached over to the nearest pirate and pulled a sword from his sheath

"Very cute." Seonghwa chuckled amusedly, pulling his own sword out.

You held the sword out, pointing it towards him as the crew mates backed off, watching in shock. He stepped forward, your weapons clashing with a resounding clang. You weren't the best swordsman, but your father taught you a bit about sword fighting in case you came across any pirates while sailing.

You pushed Seonghwa's weapon away with the thin blade of your sword. He grunted, his jaw clenched as he fought back.

"Get away!" You shouted.

"You have no authority here." Seonghwa chuckled, blocking your swing.

You came at him mercilessly, every single time, he blocked you with ease, looking as if he wasn't even trying. Rarely did he come at you with an attack. It seemed he was only defending himself, never taking any shots at you. You raised your sword, ready to strike again when suddenly he stepped forward, the flat side of his sword firmly patting your bottom.

You gasped, placing your hand on your backside in shock. Seonghwa chuckled, smirking proudly. That only made you angrier. Your grip tightened on the hilt of the sword and you lunged forward, only for Seonghwa to dodge, stepping aside with ease.

"You know, I could have injured you many times by now, but I didn't." He spoke.

You noticed he had plenty of opportunities to harm you, but he was just being playful and not really fighting back. Why?

"Don't be a coward!" You snapped, pointing your sword at him. "Fight back."

"You don't want me to do that, sweetheart."

"I do."

Seonghwa quirked a brow.

In turn, you came at him, swinging the sword. He blocked every hit, fighting back and clashing blades with you. The force of his hits had become much more powerful at this point. So powerful, that it was forcing you to take a few steps back. With one, powerful swing, Seonghwa knocked the sword from your hand, the weapon clattering to the deck. You stepped backwards to get away from him, your back hitting the wall between the sets of stairs leading to the forecastle deck.

In a split second, Seonghwa's sword was thrown through the air, landing directly beside your head, sticking out of the wood.

You were frozen with fear, your body stiff as you tried to process the fact that your life quite literally flashed before your eyes.

Seonghwa strode towards you, grabbing onto the sword's hilt, jerking the weapon from the wood, his dark eyes staring into yours with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. You were terrified.

"Now, let's get you chained back up, shall we?"

Your eyes widened and in seconds, you ducked under his arm and went straight for the closest thing—the rigging. Grabbing onto the netting, you began to climb up it, moving further from the deck.

"Don't be like that, Y/n." Seonghwa sighed. "Why don't you come on down?"

You ignored him, climbing higher.

"Come on. Where will you go?"

"Away from you!" You shouted.

"Get down here." He called.

"You honestly think I'll listen to you?" You asked.

Seonghwa's jaw ticked with annoyance, his hand squeezing the hilt of his sword.

"I could always just cut you down." He tilted his head, a glint in his eye that told you he wasn't lying.

"But Captain, the rigging will be damaged." One of the crew mates spoke up. "I don't know if we'll be able to—"

"Shh." Seonghwa cut him off. "I don't care."

"What if she gets hurt?"

"I don't care." Seonghwa repeated, raising his sword.

Crap.

You didn't think about the fact that you could fall onto the deck and get injured. Just as Seonghwa reared back, you spoke up.

"Okay!"

He paused, looking up at you.

"I'll come down." You relented, making your way down the rigging.

As you descended the netting, your foot slipped, a shout leaving your lips as you fell, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the harsh impact. You grunted as you landed roughly in someone's arms. You peeled open your eyes to see Seonghwa looking down at you with a proud expression on his face.

"Nice of you to join us." He grinned.

Your face twisted in distaste as you squirmed your way out of his arms.

"You're not a bad sword fighter." He commented. "I could teach you how to be a better one."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you can do better than that."

"I thought you wanted to chain me up again."

"I should. Especially since you've proven to me that you'll turn on me as soon as you get the chance... but I won't."

"Why? What do you want?" You asked.

"Well for starters, you're not that much of a threat to me. You know a little self-defense and you seem to have a few skills that can help you get out of bad situations. In other words, you're good, but you're not that good."

For some reason, that offended you.

"You passed." He finally stated.

"Passed?"

"Yeah. You've done a good job cleaning around the ship, you managed to escape under tough circumstances—though you did it under my supervision, which isn't very good on the loyalty part, but we'll work on that. You know a bit about ships and your sword fighting, while rather sloppy,"

"Hey!" You snapped.

"I think you could improve with an excellent teacher." He finished.

"Oh? Do you know one?" You asked, sarcastically.

He gave you a deadpan expression.

"So what do you want?" You asked.

"I want you on my crew."

"You're joking." You chuckled.

"I'm not."

"What's in it for me?"

"Food, shelter, a place to live."

"I had a place to live and you took me away from it." You snapped.

"That's fair." He hummed, straightening his coat.

"How do I know you won't turn on me?"

"How do I know you won't turn on me?" He directed the question back at you.

Touché.

"Fair point." You responded.

"What do you say, Y/n?" He inquired, reaching his hand out. "Do we have a deal?"

You'd never be able to return home. You were going to be stuck on this ship either way so it didn't really matter. The only thing you could gain from joining the crew is safety and protection, which you'd prefer over being chained up and not knowing when they'd decide to throw you overboard.

"Deal." You finally spoke, shaking Seonghwa's hand.

As soon as you latched on, he pulled you toward him, jerking you forward. You grunted as you landed against his chest. He brought his head down to your ear before speaking.

"If you turn on me at any time, I won't hesitate to shoot you." He whispered, threateningly, the barrel of his pistol pressing against your side.

"You have my word." You responded, keeping your tone relaxed.

Truthfully, he wasn't all that frightening to you, but his threats seemed to hold weight. Whether or not he would follow through, that was a mystery. So for now, you needed to be on your best behavior.

Seonghwa released you, allowing you to step away from him and put some distance between the both of you.

"Alright everyone, back go work. There's nothing to see here." He addressed the crew who had been standing and watching the both of you like they would a play or some other form of entertainment. The crew dispersed immediately, going back to what they were doing.

"Alright, Y/n. Should we begin your lessons?"

"Now?"

"No, tomorrow."

You turned to him with a flat expression.

He paid no mind to it as he began speaking again.

"Follow me."

You trailed behind him as he went to his sleeping quarters and retrieved an extra sword, grabbing one that was displayed on the wall.

"I stole this one from a wealthy king." He grinned, seeming to look back on the memories. "You can borrow it for practice."

You took the hilt which had a rather intricate design etched into and around the handle that caged your knuckles.

"It's nice." You commented quietly, watching the way the light spilling into the room glinted on the silver handle.

"I know. That's why I had to have it. Consider yourself lucky. I don't let just anyone borrow that."

Rolling your eyes in response, you lifted the weapon upright, testing its weight.

"Will that work for you?"

"I think so." You nodded.

"Then let's begin."

You followed the pirate onto the vast and spacious main deck where he took his stance. You did the same, holding your sword at the ready.

"For starters, the way you stand is too loose. You need to lock up your legs. If you stand like you are now, your opponent can easily overpower you and force you backwards. You need to try and stand firm."

Glancing down at your feet, you repositioned yourself, making sure to stand a bit more firmly.

"That isn't right." He sighed, walking over and readjusting your stance, making you straighten your back. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, pushing them forward a bit.

Feeling him so close to you was giving you mixed feelings, both good and bad.

You had to remind yourself that the man teaching you how to sword fight was the same man who forced you onto this godforsaken ship in the first place.

"Alright. That's how you properly stand. Do you feel the difference?"

You nodded.

"Good. Let's try fighting now." He held up his own sword, quickly making the first move.

You made sure to keep your legs locked, blocking his swing and pushing his blade away with your own, a resounding shing sound cutting through the air. The force of you pushing his weapon away didn't faze him at all, in fact, he hardly budged.

His brow briefly rose in a somewhat mocking manner as he smirked. You could practically hear him say, "That's why your stance has to be solid."

Swinging your weapon towards his, you let out a grunt, your blades clashing. You pulled back, going in again only to be blocked. This pattern kept repeating until you finally saw an opening. Your arms raised, your hands gripping tightly onto the hilt. Just as you were about to swing, you noticed Seonghwa eyeing your middle. That's when you realized your abdomen was exposed. Both of your arms were up in the air and he had a clear shot at your midriff.

In the blink of an eye, you jumped backwards and just as you did so, Seonghwa's blade stabbed the air right where you previously stood.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your eyes wide in shock.

"You just tried to stab me." You breathed.

"That's what a sword fight is."

"But you could have killed me!"

"Don't be dramatic. I wasn't actually going to stab you. If you hadn't jumped back I was just gonna fake you out."

Your eyes narrowed at him.

"Come on. Let's go again."

"I don't think so."

"Come on, Y/n. I won't try to get any hits in this time. Promise."

"I don't trust pirates." You snapped.

"You trusted me enough to have a practice sword fight with me just now. So, you must have at least an ounce of trust in me."

He got you there.

"Alright, fine."

"So, you admit that you trust me even if it's just a little." He grinned.

"Let's just get this over with."

You spent the next few weeks training with Seonghwa, allowing him to teach you all his tips and tricks for sword fighting. At first, you thought he was just being cocky calling himself a good teacher and all, but he was telling the truth. Besides his arrogance, he was a pretty decent mentor. You actually felt like you had improved a bit in your sword fighting.

Not only that, but between practice sessions, you started picking up different tasks around the ship. Some days, you'd help with the sails, while others you'd polish weapons. You even got to help prepare dinner for the crew one night, which you enjoyed.

You stood on the forecastle deck with Seonghwa watching him steer the large vessel, the warm sea breeze blowing through your hair. That's one thing you were beginning to enjoy about being on this ship. The almost constant breeze was always nice and in some ways refreshing. The ocean surprisingly relaxed you.

"I love this view." Seonghwa spoke up, cutting through the silence. "The horizon stretches for miles and miles. You can't see the end of it. It just goes on forever. And the thing about the ocean being so big is that there's so much to explore and you never know what's out there unless you look for it." He commented, staring out at the endless expanse of water.

Glancing over at him, you saw how his eyes had this gleam of joy, a content expression on his face. It was the first time you'd seen him look so... happy.

"You really like what you do, don't you?"

"I do. I enjoy going to different places and living at sea. I feel like I was meant to be here."

You were surprised to hear that from him. For once, you felt like you had gotten a glimpse of the real Seonghwa. You'd never seen that side of him before and were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as merciless or as arrogant as you first thought he was.

"Seonghwa?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Taking care of me, training me, feeding me, giving me a place to sleep. Why did you even kidnap me in the first place?"

"Honestly, you were giving my crew mate so much trouble. It agitated me. I really was planning to hurt you or throw you to the sharks, but I also saw something in you. You put up quite a fight, I guess I though I could use you on my side. So, instead of doing something I probably shouldn't, I decided that I would just keep you around and see what happened." He answered. "Besides, I don't kill ladies."

"Oh, so now I'm a lady?" You questioned, teasingly.

"You were always a lady."

For some strange reason, that made you feel something and you kind of hated it. You should have been repulsed, disgusted, appalled even—but no. Instead, you felt somewhat flustered. There's no way you could be falling for Seonghwa—could you?

"So, do you just put on this tough exterior so everyone is afraid of you?" You questioned, intending to learn more about him.

"Was it that obvious?" He chuckled.

"Sort of. You did a good job at hiding it at first, I'll give you that."

"Thanks."

"You still rob innocent townspeople of their things, though." You added.

"I have to. That's a pirate's life. Though, I don't always steal from innocent people, just when it's necessary."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Not really, but I act like I do. Robbing people who deserve it is what I enjoy." He smirked at that.

"I suppose I could understand that." You hummed. "So, how did you end up here, living a life of piracy? I don't suppose you were born a pirate."

"It's a long story." He responded, staring ahead, his expression holding an emotion you couldn't describe.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I have plenty of time." You chuckled.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together in thought, his fingers tapping the wheel.

"When I was five, my mother suddenly decided she didn't want anything to do with me and dumped me on my father." He started. "Unfortunately, he didn't want anything to do with me either, so he took me to the docks and ditched me there. It wasn't long after that a fisherman came along and found me, taking me in. I was young and scared, wondering why both my parents had just left me, not caring what happened. You'd think that fisherman would be compassionate since he took me in, but he was cruel. He would guilt trip me and make me feel like a liability, always saying things like I was useless and would never amount to anything. He always called me ungrateful and said I'd be dead without him. Truth is, I did everything he asked me to do and then some. I was a decent kid. He had no reason to treat me the way he did. I sometimes wonder why he even took me in if I was such a burden to him."

You frowned, not knowing Seonghwa had such a difficult childhood.

"One day I just had enough. I was sick of him putting me down all the time. The first ship that docked in town, I stole. I didn't care who it belonged to, I just wanted to get out of there. I boarded the ship with a small bag of all my belongings and just sailed away. I was on my own for a few weeks, stealing from different places until I docked in a nearby town. That's where I found the first few members of my crew and it's grown ever since."

You watched as he steered the very vessel he had stolen years ago, his eye still on the horizon ahead.

"Being tossed from one person to another makes you feel pretty unwanted." He glanced down below at the main deck towards his crew. "But I feel pretty wanted here." A small smile pulled at his lips and he looked over at you. "I never had a permanent home until now. This crew is my family."

For some reason when he said that, you felt included in it too.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"Me too."

"How old were you when you ran away?"

"12."

"Wow." You twiddled your thumbs for a moment, imagining a young 12-year-old Seonghwa being at sea on his own with only a few people to help him out. Without thinking twice you approached him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. The captain stiffened a bit before turning in your hold and facing you.

"What are you doing?"

"You didn't deserve any of that." You told him, your arms tightening around his slim waist.

He hesitantly brought a hand up and placed it on your back, somewhat reciprocating the hug. The only person to ever hug him was his mother and that was only a few times. He wasn't used to such displays of affection.

"It isn't your fault." He told you, trying to ignore the way his heart raced.

Pulling away, you glanced up at him. "You know, despite everything you went through, it seems to me you've made a decent life for yourself."

"I have." He smiled softly to himself.

Your elbows rested on the railing of the ship as you stared out into the ocean, watching the way the waves crested as the wind blew across the water's surface. Once again, you were on the forecastle deck with Seonghwa, which is where you've been spending most of your time recently. Ever since he opened up to you about his childhood, you started seeing him more as a decent man with rough beginning and less like an arrogant captain that you constantly wanted to slap across the face.

After he opened up, he started acting different around you—different in a good way. He seemed more himself, like he wasn't putting on an act or trying to be tough or intimidating. He joked around more and seemed to enjoy your company just as much as you enjoyed his.

"You know, we're headed east." Seonghwa spoke up, leaning over on the railing beside you.

"Oh." You responded with no particular attitude.

"You know, where your town is." He added.

"I know. The east is a bit boring though, don't you think?"

Seonghwa seemed confused by your response. Having expected you to want to go back home, he thought you'd be jumping for joy.

"I hear the west is nice this time of year." You commented, turning to him with a smile.

"That's in the complete opposite direction."

"I know."

"What are you trying to say?"

You gave him a grin. "I'm part of your crew, aren't I?"

"What?" Seonghwa's cheeks turned red. "I-I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

Pushing aside his embarrassment and flustered feelings, he managed to respond.

"Are you saying you want to stay?"

"I am."

"Why? I took you from your home by force. I tied you to the mast and kept you chained up for weeks."

"That was before I learned about you... the real you. You're not the same man who forced me onto this ship."

"Even so, you should return home."

"I don't want to. Besides, there's nothing for me in that town. I prefer staying right where I am." You smiled contently.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm more sure than I've ever been."

Seonghwa tried to hold back the smile that attempted to break out across his features, but his efforts were futile. He was thrilled that you wanted to stay with him.

The feelings he had towards you first became prominent when he started giving you sword flighting lessons and they only grew from there. It was when he opened up to you that his feelings really blossomed, becoming so palpable that he couldn't bear to be away from you.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Why are you thanking me?" You questioned.

"Because I don't deserve your forgiveness or even your company."

Your gaze softened as you looked at him. "Yes you do. I wouldn't have wanted to stay here if you hadn't proven to me that you're not who I once thought you were."

Seonghwa reached over, tentatively taking your hand in his. You accepted the gesture, lacing your fingers with his.

"So, you want to be a permanent crew member?" He inquired.

"I do."

"I hope you're ready. You may think you know what goes on around here, but you've only seen the half of it. There'll be fights with opposing ships and strong storms that could throw a man overboard. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I'm ready for whatever the sea has to throw at me."

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Hongjoong ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa #ateez pirate au #seonghwa pirate au #seonghwa #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios

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edosianorchids901 · 9 months

Text

Hope Rekindled

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a reunion hug"

Utah, 1869

Really, Crowley wanted to be asleep. Preferably back in London, asleep, but asleep back in New York would do. Even asleep in any random hotel in the middle of nowhere would do.

But no. He’d gotten himself into this, by talking up how great railroads were for sin and crime and everything, not to mention how much they could expedite demonic work without as many travel expenses. And now, for some reason, Hell wanted a report on two railroads joining up. Big deal.

A twinge of grief tugged at his stomach, and he tried to ignore it as he steered his horse around a bend. Normally, he would think this was a big deal. He’d even tried to get excited about it with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol. But without Aziraphale in his life, everything just seemed pointless.

At least soon, he’d be able to stop riding around following the progress of the Union Pacific and go back to somewhere with a more reliable source of alcohol. Maybe he’d go investigate the rampant corruption of the railroad’s operations. That should make Hell—

“Awfully sorry, but I’ve gotten a bit turned around, do you know the way to—”

Slowly, Crowley raised his head. There, coming around the bend from the opposite direction, was Aziraphale. On a light palomino, dressed in fancy beige clothes that really didn’t belong in this rough and tumble territory. Staring at Crowley with the same shocked horror that Crowley could feel on his own face.

They hadn’t spoken since Crowley asked for holy water. It might be smarter to turn around, to head back in the opposite direction. Aziraphale had to be pissed off at him, for that whole thing.

Crowley gulped and scrambled for words. “Er. Hi. What’re you doing here?”

“Um.” Aziraphale’s lip trembled, and he fumbled with his reins. His horse pinned its ears at the restless fidgeting. “Heaven, um, sent me to witness this great act of unity.”

“‘Course that’s how they see it. Never mind the corruption or theft of land or…” Crowley cut off. Normally, he and Aziraphale would have a rousing debate, a fun debate. But it seemed too risky now. “Hell wants me to witness the expansion of greed n’ stuff.”

“Of course that’s how they see it.” A small, nervous smile tugged at Aziraphale’s expression, and he gestured. “Um, would you ride with me? I’m afraid you’ll have to lead, though. I’m lost. I’ve been following the railroad—”

“No, I’ve been following the railroad,” Crowley interrupted. “I’d definitely have seen you.”

Aziraphale pointed to the west, towards the Central Pacific’s line. “The other railroad, dear boy.”

“Oh. Right. Opposite Sides, of course.” Frowning, Crowley tried to figure out why Heaven would be backing them. “Are they somehow less shady than the Union Pacific? At least, in Heaven’s eyes.”

“I believe they’re both rather reprehensible. But I happened to be in San Francisco, fomenting peace.”

“Right. I happened to be in New York, fomenting chaos.”

They stared at each other, their horses now both looking impatient. Finally, Aziraphale gave a little sigh. “Well, do you know where we’re supposed to be going?”

“Er. No, actually. I’m slightly lost too.” Crowley looked around, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of any of the trails or sections of rail from here. “Guess we could just ride until we find the railroad, follow that.”

A very familiar look crossed Aziraphale’s face now, shy but mischievous. “Or. We could, um. Share a drink and a snack. I still have a very nice bottle of wine that I brought with me from San Francisco. And some absolutely lovely little cakes that I got at the last town. I’m sure the newspapers will paint a vivid enough picture for us to write our own reports.”

“Really?” Startled, Crowley pushed his hat back to see the angel more clearly. Aziraphale was blushing a little. “Wow, am I just that bad of an influence, or have you been dodging your duties this whole time?”

“Well, you are a dreadful influence.” Aziraphale gestured to a shrubby patch of trees. “But in truth, I’d much rather enjoy the serenity of nature than to watch humans get into a measuring contest over whose railroad tie is longer.”

Crowley sputtered, and Aziraphale gave him an entirely innocent smile. As always, it was impossible to be completely sure whether Aziraphale was completely oblivious or fully aware of the innuendo.

“Right. Okay.” Yielding, Crowley tipped his hat and struggled off his horse. His hips and legs throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. Riding horses was always a torture of its own.

“I’ll tie the horses, shall I?” Aziraphale asked, already taking the reins.

His fingers brushed against Crowley’s, and both of them froze. Crowley battled the urges that barraged him. To babble apologies, to demand apologies, to wrap Aziraphale in a hug and never let go again.

Before Crowley could make up his mind, Aziraphale did. The angel dropped both sets of reins, stepped forward, breaths shaky, and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist. It was a tentative hug, shy and unsure, his fingers worrying at the fabric of Crowley’s jacket.

“I missed you,” Aziraphale whispered, and tried to pull away.

But Crowley had finally regained his senses. He hugged Aziraphale back, holding him close, and pressed his face into the soft curls. Their hats knocked together, his own nearly sliding off. “Missed you too.”

Apparently, Aziraphale found this just as embarrassing as Crowley did. When they let go of each other and stepped back, they studiously avoided each other’s gaze. Aziraphale took the horses over and tied them to a sturdier tree, and Crowley snapped a blanket into existence for himself and Aziraphale to sit on.

“Here we are.” Still avoiding eye contact, Aziraphale joined him with the wine and cakes. “I don’t suppose you have any goodies to contribute?”

“Unfortunately not. Haven’t been hungry lately.” Crowley’s hand shook, but he held it out anyway. “Today, cake sounds terrific.”

As Aziraphale passed him a little iced cake, their eyes met. Aziraphale smiled, just a little, and Crowley smiled back.

At first it was awkward, talking again after all that had happened. They skirted around any complicated topics, mostly just updating each other on things. But after only a few minutes, it became easier. And in no time, as they drank wine, ate cakes, and laughed together, it was as if they’d never been upset with each other at all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #art #ace omens hugfest 2024

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faegoddessog · 22 days

Text

Years? Really?!

Part 2: You got me so...

Things heat up quickly when you each confess your mutual crushes. You realize that between your legs is exactly where he has always belonged.

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, cunnilingus, pussy play, fingering, fellatio,

A/N Ya'll asked for it! A continuation of the steamy evening and somehow in the midst of crazy life chaos, I actually got it written! Enjoy sweet darlings!

Tag list:

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Let me know if you'd like me to add you to the tag list!

“Thank you, I think this might be the best birthday present yet,” he chuckles, sitting up. “I'll be right back.”

He scoots into the bathroom, leaving you sitting on the bed. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the full length mirror on its stand by the door. You are astounded at how hot you look; hair tossed around, totally naked and laying back on your elbows, The devil-may-care look you give yourself makes you throttle that voice trying to rise and ask ‘what the hell are you doing.’ You are doing what you have wanted to do since the night you laid eyes on this man. You can’t help but smirk at yourself.

You hear the toilet flush and the running of water. Suddenly he flings the door open before hitting the light. Burned into your brain is the silhouette of him against the bright rectangle of the door. Then you feel his hands gliding up your leg, you swear you hear him say ‘sexy little minx.’

“I may need a little time before you uh-’ he glances at his crotch, “in the meantime.”

Your night sight comes back just in time to see the heated look Austin gives you as he lowers his face between your legs.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say, figuring if that’s the main thing he’s been doing for the past couple years, maybe he’d had enough of it.

“Oh no, hunny. I love it,” he says in all seriousness, “trust me, this is the quickest way to get me hard again.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond before his fingers squeeze deep on your outer labia, capturing your clit between them. He pulls just a little, then rolls his fingers together and it’s like fucking magic. A giggle escapes you, rolling into a moan as he continues.

Then his thumb is just above your clit, pulling up and tightening your folds.

“Now squeeze and release this pretty pussy, hunny,” his deep honey’d voice drips.

You tighten your pelvic floor rhythmically and it nearly sends you. It feels like your clit is being jerked off. You’ve never felt anything quite like it before.

He smiles as he watches your face in pleasure.

“You like that?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

“Yeah, that’s… fuck… what are you doing?” you moan.

“I”m not, you are doing it,” he smiles.

Unlike many of the previous partners, who would stop the thing that felt good to try something new, Austin actually keeps going. You feel the warmth, the pressure mount. There he is, not even touching your clit, doing nothing more than pushing your mons and you are approaching delirium.

When he does let go, he quickly nestles his face between your legs. His tongue grazes your bare lips. His long fingered hands knead into your inner thighs, coaxing and pressing them apart.

Little flicks of his tongue part your lips, little nibbles from his teeth run rampant. His head turns to the side and the tip of his tongue slots between your labia, lifting out just before he gets to your clit. His moan tells all as a string of your juices pulls away with his tongue.

The deliberate twists of his tongue tell you that he knows exactly what he is doing. It’s tantalizing in a way you’ve never felt before. Most guys went hard and fast for the little nub, if they knew where it was at all. But here he is, introducing himself, flirting with it. You’ve never been so turned on by someone doing so little to your pussy.

He pulls back, looking up at you. His little inhale lifts his brows just the smallest bit as though asking if he’s doing alright. The sight of him peering up at you over your mons is breathtaking. The realization strikes you that this is where you’ve always wanted this fine man.

You bite your lip and nod. The apples of his cheeks pop as he smiles. He doesn’t break eye contact as his tongue extends long between your lips. You can scarcely breathe.

His fingers gently spread you open to him. His brow furrows, a little horizontal crease forming between his eyes.

“God that is beautiful,” he mumbles mostly to himself as he looks down.

The ploughshare of his tongue separates your small glistening petals. His head moves gently up and down. His moan starts out soft but deepens into a growl as he dips his tongue into you. His body shakes with desire. He wasn’t kidding when he said he loves it.

“Oh my god, you taste so sweet. I could eat you for hours,” he says against your skin.

He takes several long deep licks from your taint to almost your clit. Sousing his tongue in your juices then continuing to suck and nibble on your labia.

Finally, just before you can’t stand it anymore, he gently exposes your clit to the air before drawing little circles around it. Then it’s in his mouth and you aren’t sure what he is doing with his tongue but it’s fucking amazing.

Your hand shoots to his head. His silky, soft hair is glorious between your fingers. You’ve always wanted to comb your hands though it. Your fingertips tighten on his blonde locks, tugging.

“Oh baby, be gentle,” he winces, “I’m a bit sensitive,” he admits.

“Sorry Austin,” your brow creases,”It’s just, your hair is so… and fuck, you got me so…” his tongue flicks across your clit and you gasp, unable to complete your thought, let alone get it out your mouth.

“It's ok, just don’t pull, darling,” his lips graze your clit as he talks.

His mouth closes over your pussy and he’s sucking.

You feel fingers play at your entrance, tracing your opening, petting it, pushing down and releasing just inside. It’s like he knows every little hidden button that sparks fire. The sensory overload of his hair, his scent, his tongue, his fingers. Good lord this man could not be hotter.

The sucking and pressing get rhythmic, stronger. Moans escape your throat.

You are surprised with how quickly you near your climax. And he just continues on steadily.

You want to keep watching how his jaw muscles tighten, how his shoulder flexes as he fingers you, but your head falls backwards with how good it feels. You barely have the presence of mind to let go of his hair before you yank on it. Instead your hands find their way to your hard nipples and then fuck oh fuck.

“I’m cumming, oh god” you moan. Your hips shake against him, nerves exploding with a third orgasm for the night.

His tongue flattens against your clit, holding pressure as you grind into his face. He is masterful. You might as well have never been eaten out before.

He waits, just pressing his tongue against you, letting your shakes and shivers provide all the movement until you come down.

“Jesus, Austin,” you puff out, “that was fucking awesome.”

He leans back, smacking his lips, shiny with your juices.

“Thank you,” he raises his eyes to yours as a quiet moan rumbles his chest.

Whether he referencing your compliment or for letting him feast on your pussy, you don’t know.

His gaze turns intense, wanting.

You melt.

You know it’s just the oxytocin flooding your brain right now, but you’ll be damned if your crush isn’t morphing into more in this very moment.

You return his intensity, tongue peeking out to lick your top lip.

You glance down, his cock is rock hard again. You wonder how he has any blood left for his brain. Your fingers curl in a come hither to his cock.

No words have to be spoken.

He pushes back, his knees folding up under him.

You sit up with nothing but his cock in your sites. Your hands wrap around his shaft and it definitely takes both of them. You take a minute to soak in the sight of him.

His cock is just a pretty as he is. Long, like his fingers, he curves ever so slightly to the right, thicker at the base by just the perfect proportion. A patch of blonde short and curlies is partially hidden behind his erect shaft.

You only now notice how smooth he is. Not prickly like he shaved, but lickable like he got waxed. The thought of him manscaping just in case he might get to maybe fuck YOU sets off a little bomb in your belly. Your tongue sneaks out to lick your lip in anticipation. God you love a smooth cock. His head is a beautiful pink, with a jewel of precum catching the light.

You want it in your mouth, and you want it right now, as much of it as you can swallow.

You bend forward, rubbing your cheek on him like a cat. He smells like your hand soap. The flat of your tongue drags along his smooth shaft up to his little weeping hole. You growl as the tip of your tongue dips into the viscous fluid. You spread it along the roof of your mouth.

“That tastes so good,” you whisper.

You pull saliva to the front of your mouth and let it fall from your lips. Your spit dribbles down his sides and over the ring of your thumb and forefinger. Which nearly meet around his girth. Then you close your mouth over his head, the flat of your tongue rubbing against his frenulum and suctioning up to his tip. Up and down, up and down you glide on his head, reveling in the feel of his smooth cock on your tongue.

You can feel your pussy heating up, jealous of the friction your mouth is getting. You slurp off him with a moan, glancing up at him. His face is shaking with barely contained lust.

“God, that’s been a while,” he mumbles, almost to himself.

“What, did she not do this either?” you say with a slight frown.

“Not really, but I’ve not had… not like that ,” he whispers, trying to keep it together.

“Like what?” you ask, your heart breaking just a little for him.

“Like you want to do it, that you actually enjoy it,” he bites his lip, its all just so hot for him.

“I do,” you say simply.

Before you let yourself rage over the ungrateful bint, you dive down onto him.

Sucking the gorgeous cock on a gorgeous man is not something everyone enjoys or has to enjoy, you remind yourself.

Luckily, you do.

You are intent on devouring as much of him as you can. You want to show him what he’s been missing out on.

He fills your mouth, forcing your jaw to hinge wider. You rub the tip of him along your soft palate. You moan as you fuck your own mouth with his girth. Tongue tracing random designs on his underside each time you pull back.

“Oh god, girl you are- OH!” he moans.

Solid desire sublimates into outright need as you hear his deep-throated moans above you. His inability to make sentences drives you wild. You stuff him deeper.

You can tell he wants to thrust into you. His hands lightly land on the top of your head as his hips strain to stay still. There isn’t any more room in your mouth, but his control is breaking. Your air is cut off momentarily, then the back of your tongue is rolling and forcing him out along with thick viscous spit. It trails from his cock to your lips as he emerges.

The sound of you gagging momentarily freaks him out.

“Are you ok?” Austin asks with a concerned face.

“Mmhmmm,” you nod, a mouth full of thick spit. You dribble it on his tip, using your hand to spread it. Curling your knees under, you grab his hand, placing it on yours.

“Show me how you like to jerk off,” slutty desire coats every syllable.

Austin’s beautiful face goes beet red.

“No, I don’t… I mean, I do. It’s just…” he licks his lips nervously, shyly looking away from the scene between his legs. You wait patiently for him to get over his inhibitions. He doesn’t take away his big hand, instead he adjusts his handgrip, pressing into your fingers. It’s like he can’t help himself.

He tightens over your hand and starts moving both up and down his lubed cock. First, several faster short strokes on his upper third followed by a few long strokes that slide all the way from root to tip. Short short short short short, long long long. His head tilts back as he loosens his grip, letting you take control, drunk on the friction. You return the favor by keeping the pattern, the pace, the pressure steady.

“Here, just a little,” he says, moving your other hand to his balls.

Your hand cups his smooth testicles, gently rolling them in your palm.

“Yes, oh fuck like that,” he moans, looking down at you with once blue eyes that are now morphed into dark pools.

The sly smile on your lips only serves to spur him on. You catch his eye, lowering your mouth to his tip while still pumping his shaft and tickling his balls. Tongue cradling his head, you glide back and forth over him.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s gonna make me cum,” he moans, involuntarily shifting his hips back and forth.

Moaning your consent, you keep steadily jerking him off into your mouth, steadily undulating your tongue along him. Spit begins to pool in your palm

“So hot, so fucking hot,” he chants. His fingers thread into your hair and they are surprisingly gentle.

Two of your fingers slide behind his balls, lightly rubbing the dribbling spit nearly to his asshole.

“Oh my god!” he groans into the thick air of the bedroom, fingers tightening on your scalp. His hips that once he was trying to maintain control over, thrust forward erratically.

So turned on by his seemingly wild abandon, by how much you are pushing him to the brink, you find your hips angling to and fro against the bed to get friction. You moan around his cock. His echoing grunts are wordless and feral.

You can feel it; the tightness of his sac, the throbbing pulsation on the lower side of his thick-as-fuck shaft. All just before the deep wordless groan rips from his throat. Hot ribbons of cum fill your mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” he intones as milky white jizz drips from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. When he pulls back, your face and chest are a veritable cum mess.

He pants, looking you up and down, reeling from his orgasm. When he looks down and sees your mouth just a little slack from straining around his big cock, he immediately cradles your head in his hands.

“Oh darlin’, are you ok?” his eyebrows raised.

“Very,” you swipe your thumb under your bottom lip.

“You sure?” he is so cute when he’s concerned.

“Quite,” you assure him, “Austin that was so hot.”

He produces a hand towel he must have brought with him from the bathroom and gently wipes your chest and chin. When he leans forward kissing away the last of his own cum from the corners of your mouth, you kiss him deeply, loving every second of it.

“Oh lord,” he sprawls out next to you, arms open.

“Yeah?” you snuggle up to his chest. His arm automatically slips around you.

“Yes, like…. That was amazing the way your tongue…” his fingers flick upward like your tongue twirls, “ and how you went under,” his hand turns over in a mimic of your hand rubbing his balls. “I’ve never experienced anything like that. And for real you like doing that? Even on me?,” he is babbling, finally relaxed enough to state it like it is.

“Oh hell yeah,” you say in no uncertain terms, “I’ve never had a cock feel so good in my mouth and you are so smooth it’s dreamy” you reach down between his legs, lightly gliding your fingers along him. “I could lick and suck you all day.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he reaches too, rubbing along his balls, catching your fingers and lacing them in his own, “I like to be smooth, it just heightens everything.” he reaches between your legs to pet your labia. “Don’t you think?”

“Mmm, Austin,” your glutes tighten, pushing against his fingers.

They slip lightly between your folds and come away wet with your viscous juices.

“Damn girl, are you always like this?”

“No, no, Austin you just are that fucking hot.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them and moaning low.

“And you just keep getting hotter, damn,” your finger crawls up his chest, “I wanna ride you, do you think we can make that happen?” You have no idea if he’ll have it in him.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said lots of times,” he smiles. “Give me a few, then I’ll see what I can do.”

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #austin butler/reader

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