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birrdies · 7 months

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“when I say you are killing me” (desert duo one-shot, 2.6k)

Every inch of his climb is agony. White-hot and endless, it ricochets through Scar’s body as if it bought an expressway pass through his veins like a highway. Would it have killed Grian to get an apartment on the first floor? Hell, Scar would even take something on the third or fourth-floor if he had to. Anything would be better than dragging himself, slowly and painfully, up twelve flights of rickety metal stairs. In the snow. In the middle of the night. Bleeding.

Scar’s having a bad night.

Blood dribbles between the gaps of his fingers. It’s slower than it had been, but each heave up another flight of stairs blinds him with pain and sends a few more fresh droplets of blood sliding down his middle. His shirt (whatever tatters remain of it anyway) and pants are wet and tacky, sticking to his skin like a perpetually wet bathing suit as he tries to climb the rest of the way up to Grian’s apartment.

The fire escape is an old decrepit fixture of rusting metal mounted to the brick siding with nothing more than a few loose bolts and a dream. It groans beneath his weight, the barest shake of wind causing the metal to ripple and shudder. The metal saps the warmth from his already cold, pale fingertips. He’d had gloves, but had to get rid of them as they were soaked in blood and not all-that conducive for climbing-under-the-influence (of blood loss). Scar’s not afraid of much, least of all heights, but he chooses each step up the fire escape carefully, muscle memory a crutch as he drags himself past open windows with the lights still on. Last thing he needs is another broadcast claiming HotGuy is nothing but a petty creep with a penchant for B&Es.

By the time he reaches the twelfth floor he’s shaking from head-to-to. Each breath sears through him, rivaling the sharp-edged pain of lightning, setting him alight. It burns through him, the aftershocks never ending as he pulls himself upright and grasps onto the edges of Grian’s windowsill. A pained whine catches between his teeth; he refuses to let it out.

Curled up at Grian’s windowsill as he peeks through the drawn curtains at the warm lamplight cascading through the glass, Scar finds the painful climb was well worth each and every second of agony. No better minded than a moth drawn to a flame Scar leans in to rest his forehead against the glass, the warm, golden glow from within Grian’s apartment beckoning him forward. Inside, Grian’s sitting at his desk around a cluster of books and papers strewn around as if a bomb had gone off. His hair is fuzzy and curled at the tips, as it always is whenever Grian lets it air dry after a shower. His shoulders are hunched and the sides of his face are illuminated by the blue glow of his laptop screen. Even through the glass Scar can hear the incessant clacking of his keys as he furiously types away at whatever assignment he’s working on.

It takes Scar more than one try to build up the courage to disturb him. He looks peaceful (or about as peaceful as someone working on a lab report can be), and Scar knows that peace will shatter the second he knocks, the second he barges in, yet again, on Grian’s evening and sweeps him up in his vigilante shenanigans.

Scar’s bloodied hands grasp onto the windowsill, red streaks staining the chipping white paint like a crime scene out of some gruesome horror movie Grian would have him watch. He winces at the sight; it’ll be a nightmare to scrub out. He’ll have to remember to buy Grian dinner one of these days to make it up to him and hope that Grian will have the heart, eventually, to forgive him.

“Grian,” he mumbles, startled to find his voice nothing more than a gravelly rasp. He reaches to knock, but his arms are as stiff as uncooked spaghetti noodles and don’t listen to a word he has to say. With a huff of frustration, Scar pitches his weight forward and thumps his head twice against the glass. The dull ache through his forehead is nothing compared to the feverish burning tearing through his chest and stomach.

Inside, a shadow bolts across the floor. Grian’s cat, Maui. In his chair Grian twists around at the sound. He’s wearing his glasses— Scar’s heart drops low in his stomach at the sight— and squints through the darkness to see Scar sheepishly waving at him through the glass, his breath fogging it up just enough to be seen.

He unfurls himself from his chair and comes to pry the window open. Scar comes face-to-face with his heart-patterned pajama pants, two sizes too big and pooling around his ankles. Wait, are those Scar’s?

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Grian is asking before Scar manages to start dragging himself in through the open window. It’s only for the briefest millisecond, in Grian’s ignorance, that Scar can be grateful for the starless, moonless night. The dark shields him not only from the prying eyes of neighbors, but from Grian’s scrutiny. In this dark he can’t see the blood, can’t see the tears in his shirt. In the dark, he might just look a little ruffled, no worse for wear than he usually is after a busy night patrolling. In the dark, he and Grian can pretend, albeit for only a second, that everything is normal.

But as the pain and dark corners throbbing in his periphery are keen on reminding him, everything is very much not normal.

“I seemed to have lost my watch,” Scar says as he pulls himself in through the open window. Every movement is measured, half-withheld, ginger— everything that Scar isn’t, and he’d be a fool to think Grian wouldn’t notice. He does immediately, because he’s Grian, and he’s never been truly ignorant when it comes to Scar, despite Scar’s best intentions.

Grian steps back with wide eyes. The color drains from his face as Scar holds his weight against the wall with one blood-slicked hand and struggles to stand at his full height. Every inch he tries to stand taller, the more the swelling edges of the wound start to pull and ache.

“Scar?” Grian’s face, usually so warm and vivid, especially under the light of his desk lamp, pales to a near lifeless color. He staggers toward him, hands held out in front of him as if to catch Scar. “Scar, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Right as rain, G,” Scar says, managing a wry smile. “Honest.”

“Don’t give me that.” Grian rushes forward, grabbing Scar around the shoulders and steering him towards the futon in the middle of the room. The second Grian touches him some of Scar’s pain fades, if not just because he has somewhere else to pitch his weight, to take some of the strain off his bloodied, torn middle.

The pair of them hobble to the futon, Grian whispering mumbled nothings as he lowers Scar onto the edge and forces him to sit back with firm hands on his shoulders. Scar allows himself the smallest mercy of relaxing into the cushions, his arms and legs limp at his sides as his head lulls back to rest against the back of the futon. It’s as if every string tying his marionette up, stringing him along, has been cut all at once. It’s somehow blissful and terrifying all at the same time. He’s not sure he’s ever been this roughed up, this exhausted.

And in front of Grian of all people?

Grian, whose face is drawn tight, whose shoulders and jaw are rigid as if he’s been made out of wood. Grian, who anxiously flutters at Scar’s side for a second before disappearing in a flurry toward the kitchen. Scar’s head is too heavy for him to lift, but he hears Grian rummaging and cursing under his breath before he returns just as quickly as he left. In his arms he balances a handful of small dishtowels, a first-aid kit, and a box of blue rubber gloves.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, to himself more than to Scar, as he sits on his knees on the cushion beside Scar and leans over to assess the wounds.

Gingerly he pulls the tattered shreds of his black shirt away from the wound-bed (as much as he can with some of the fabric stuck to his body with blood like glue) and winces at the gory sight. Scar’s skin is torn in jagged ridges, three gouge marks clawed from just under his ribs and down across his right abdomen. Thankfully, the worst of the bleeding seems to have stopped, dark, thick globules of blood already starting to stitch together like wads of hot glue around the wound, crusting on the skin.

Grian examines it all with a crease between his brow that Scar, after all this time, has come to know means he’s irritated. He’s always looked especially cute when he’s angry (part of the reason it’s just too easy for Scar to give into the temptation to push his buttons whenever possible), but the downturn of his lips, the whites of his eyes, reveals something far more serious. Worry. Grian’s worried about him, and maybe it’s the blood loss starting to get to Scar in earnest, but Scar finds he far prefers this sight. He can’t help but smile back at him, even though he knows it’ll likely earn him a punch when he’s no longer bleeding out on Grian’s couch.

“Scar.” Grian says his name as if he’s been saying it for a while, but Scar’s only just now hearing it. “This is bad. Like, really bad.”

Scar blinks down his nose at him, brow furrowed. “You should see the other guy,” he says with a weak huff of laughter. “Stuck him so full of arrows you could call him a porcupine.”

“Scar, this is serious,” Grian admonishes, snapping on a pair of gloves and brushing his hair from his eyes.

“But you’re gonna fix me right up, ain’t you, Doc?” Sar teases, lifting his head just enough to catch Grian’s scowl as he flicks open the first-aid kit and fishes out a small brown bottle.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” Grian says, and there he goes again— detached, analytical, dawning his ‘I’m calm and collected’ persona. He pulls a pair of scissors out of the first-aid kit and tests the snap of them. “This doesn’t look like it was from some kind of a knife—”

“Ravager,” Scar says, gritting his teeth in anticipation. “Jerk got too close.”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Sounds more like you got too cocky.”

Again, Scar finds himself fighting (and failing) to conceal a smug little smile. “You’re worried about me, just say it.”

“I’m pissed off is what I am,” Grian snaps. He peels up one edge of Scar’s shirt and begins cutting away as much of the fabric as he can without disturbing the edges of Scar’s wounds. He winces only when the shirt tugs too sharply on the red, puffy edges of the wound. And Grian, to Scar’s surprise, nearly flinches every time he does.

“Sorry, sorry,” Grian whispers each time, sounding so unlike himself. His face is pale, and if Scar isn’t mistaken there’s the faintest tremble to his hand.

“It’s okay,” Scar says, just as hushed, as if the slightest movement or raise in his voice will spook Grian. “Do what you gotta do. I’m tough, I’m strong. I can take it.”

Grian scoffs and peels a foil lid from the bottle’s cap, dumping a bit of it onto a folded dishrag. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see how tough and strong you are once I start cleaning this.”

“Give me your worst, Doc.” Scar lets his head loll back to stare at the ceiling, taking as deep a breath as his tense, wounded chest will allow. The twinge of pain reminds him to stay awake, has his fingers curling into the fabric of the futon beneath him.

Grian doesn’t give Scar a warning, which he appreciates. The anticipation is the worst part. He grits his teeth and bares it as Grian firmly, but not violently, uses the alcohol-soaked rag to wash away the blood from his torn skin. Scar scrunches his eyes shut and breathes through it, the pain an unrelenting impulse racing through his veins like faulty circuitry gone haywire.

And as soon as it starts, it’s over. Grian sits back on his heels and tosses the now blood-soaked rag to the floor. He wipes at the sweat blistering across his forehead with his arm, taking a shaky breath in as he examines his handiwork.

“It’s not too deep,” he says, sounding the slightest bit relieved. He twists to reach for the first-aid kit again. “You’re lucky I swiped this stuff from the lab. Though I won’t begin to guess why you came here instead of a hospital. This needs stitches, probably.”

“Eh, I’m not worried about another scar,” Scar dismisses, ignoring the small beads of sweat starting to gather on his own brow. He can’t handle Grian thinking he’s caused him any more pain; the only thing worse than suffering as he is now is to watch Grian torture himself over things he can’t control. Like Scar. “Besides, I can’t exactly keep up the whole secret identity thing if I go to a hospital half in costume, now can I?”

“Secret identity,” Grian parrots mockingly, unraveling a bundle of bandages and starting to tack them down around Scar’s middle. “You nearly got gutted, and that’s what you’re worried about. Of course.”

He’s angry. Scar would be an idiot to not be able to see it, and maybe it shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. But it’s not the anger that catches Scar off guard. It’s what lingers beneath it: Grian’s gloved, trembling hands, the way he can’t look Scar in the eye more than a second before having to look away, burying himself in sorting through the first-aid kit for the fourth time as if looking for something to help and, just like every other time, coming up empty-handed.

Grian’s scared.

Scar’s known Grian for years now, and over that time he’s been a lot of things. Angry, judgmental, infectiously funny, bright. But afraid has never been a word Scar has used to describe him.

“Grian…”

“Of course I’m worried,” Grian says, catching Scar off guard. His voice is so quiet, so hushed that Scar wonders if he imagined it. Because something so vulnerable and soft sounding couldn’t come from someone as headstrong and impervious as Grian. It simply isn’t possible. “How could I not be? Have you looked at yourself?”

“Hey.” Scar can’t dream of sitting up, but he manages to leverage himself up just enough to reach for Grian’s wrist. He’ll feel bad about staining Grian’s sleeves with blood later. For now he needs to grab hold of him, pull him in close. To reassure him. “I’m fine. I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m in good hands, yeah?”

“Scar,” Grian says, sounding like he’s about to start crying. He curls his fingers into a weak fist, as if to pull from Scar’s grasp, but he doesn’t try it. He only holds it there, waiting. “I’m not exactly qualified. I’m a bio student, not a—”

“You’re doing fine,” Scar insists, caressing the inner aspect of Grian’s wrist with his thumb. There, he can feel the furious pace Grian’s heart takes on at the touch, like his pulse is ready to leap out from beneath the thin layer of skin. He flashes a smile, just to prove it to Grian. “I’ve bounced back from a lot worse than this. I’m just glad I don’t have to do it alone this time.”

#desert duo #desert duo fic #scarian #<- just in case #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #goodtimeswithscar #grian #birdie writes #sometimes I forget I am a writer and forget to post the things I’ve been writing like a madman #blame fishbloc for making me post this one

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lovelykhaleesiii · 6 months

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could you write something about aegon having raw seggs with reader before he sets off for rook’s rest? putting a baby in her just in case … bonus if he’s chubby 🤍

For Good Measure...

PAIRING: Daddy!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Daughter!Reader

WORDS: 1,432.

WARNINGS: for the sake of the story, B&C has already occurred prior to Rook's Rest, incest, implied age gap [reader is of consensual age], Daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of implied pregnancy, p in v sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, possessive!Aegon, swearing, slight praise kink, chubby!Aegon.

*READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION*

A/N - boy oh boy, it feels good to be back… I hope this is a sensational comeback fic for you all. thank you to everyone for the warm welcome. and I hope we’re all preparing for what’s to come… cause I certainly will need you guys to keep me standing tf up!!!!

credit to owners of the images.

“Princess come, come. Your father summons your immediate presence.”

Ser Arryk, a dignified and loyal knight of the Kingsguard, and a familiar, trustworthy face. Your father, the King, Aegon the Second, entrusts him to bring you forth at his beckon call, wherever he may be.

Entering the empty council room, you find yourself engulfed in the menacing silence, scorched by your father's eager, hungry eyes. As the large, oak doors shut close behind, sending an instant shudder across your body, you feel rigid in the unnerving, mighty presence of your father. You knew better: for he would dare not to harm you. In fact, Aegon held quite the opposite attitude towards you. He loved you dearly, romantically. You were the complete apple of his eye, holding you with great infatuation and awe, he was mesmerised by you since you had matured enough into a woman. As the young male lords and knights of realm bestowed their likeness towards you, streaks of jealousy arose feverishly within him, boiling his blood, he refused countless of marriage offers, and ultimately claimed you as his own. Word had spread like wildfire across the realm regardless, of such a blasphemous unity between a man and woman, a father and his daughter: and yet your ancient tradition said otherwise.

Aegon wanted you: a stubborn man, and King nonetheless, his word held the highest authority, making it final. And in the midst of a war, your unity was neither a priority nor the main topic of interest.

"Come to me, my sweet girl. Your Daddy is tired and sapped. Your presence is all I crave for."

Not a breath uttered, except for a subtle exchange of a sympathetic smile as you closely embarked the weary disposition of your father: sprawled against the larger of the sturdy chairs, his figure stout and brawny, he was an impressive sight to see. You felt vulnerable and meek against him, and yet knew the protection he granted, no one else could provide. His grand stature met his considerable authority hand in hand.

"And what does Daddy need me to do for him exactly? Need I sate him, or the needs of the King?"

Your hands softly grip at his shoulders, pushing his chair back, creating enough space between his rotund stomach and the table's edge, mounting his wide, meaty lap.

"Hmm- By serving your Daddy, you serve your King, princess. Do your Septa's not teach you of royal etiquette? What your role to me is? Need me to fuck some sense into you, princess?"

"It would be more compelling than those tedious lessons you force me to attend... I think Daddy just wants me all to himself. This war has stolen you from me, and I-I miss you," The taunting words disappear as your voice grows quiet and shaky, struggling to sustain eye contact with your father, you feel your body fall deeper against his lap, as your fingers toy with the chains of his tunic. His calloused, pale hand reaches up towards you, gently stroking your flushed cheek, as he strokes a shedding tear away.

"I know, baby, I know... I would want nothing more than to just be with you. Have you in my arms and my cock deep inside you all day and night. I can't stand being this far apart from you, even if you remain down the hall from me. Daddy hates disappointing you, princess. I do... But I must ask more from you-"

Sniffling you enquire what precisely, and Aegon's lilac eyes grow tempestuously dark.

"Your Uncle and I are to head to Rook's Rest, for battle-"

A panic breath hitches in your throat, your saddened eyes widen in alarm, your grip on Aegon's broad shoulders tighten: you refuse to let him go if need be.

"I want you to bear a child, our child, my beloved. I want you to carry my heir, it is our duty. I want you to honour me with a babe. I promise I will return in one piece, for you and the babe."

One attention you had grasped in your day to day Septa lessons, was that your father, as King, and whomever his betrothed wife may be, her duty to her Grace, was to provide as many heirs as possible, blessed by the Mother. You knew as a fellow heir in line to your father, the Council and the realm would be expectant. The idea wholesome, the motive morbid, yet a part of you wanted to honour your Grace. You wanted Aegon to claim you as his completely, to taint you with his seed and showcase it to the greater good of the realm.

"I-I would want nothing more. So long as you uphold your promise, and return to me, if the Gods bless me, father, I want you to take me now."

Without a second to spare, Aegon's rough, pudgy hands find their way eagerly hiking up your tender thighs, your gown raking upwards in motion. His plump lips latch onto your reddened, soft ones, biting and pulling at your lower lip in tease. With such a vigorous strength he lifts you effortlessly, planting you onto the table's edge, as he shoves his heavier mass between your legs, spreading you wider open much for his ease. You aid him in undoing his pantaloons and belt, his lips sucking and trailing down your neck, feeling your sensitive skin moist and numb from his eager take.

"My precious girl, so adamant to fulfil her Daddy's wishes. How did I ever deserve the likes of you, my angel. Gonna make me the proudest fucking King."

Moaning helplessly, you feel even more weaker against his efforts, more susceptible to his seduction, as you feel it has been a lifetime since you had been spoiled by your father's heed.

"Y-Yes Daddy- M-Make me all yours, I-I want them a-all to know."

The blush tip of his girthy cock, struck with palpable veins, had been teasing your slick entrance, slowly etching in and out of your folds: plunging himself in suddenly, your tight walls stretching with agony to adjust to his mass: screaming his name in painful pleasure as a lightning shock courses through your feeble body.

"Baby must've forgot how to take her Daddy, huh? Show me how well you can take me, princess. I know this cunt was made just for me, prove it."

His thrusts had always been sloppy and formidable, although the table was sturdy enough to take, you gathered every fibre of strength to hold dearly onto Aegon. Your nails digging viciously into his clothed adipose flesh, for extra support.

"Gonna make you such a pretty, little Mumma. You're going to look so fucking beautiful with my child swelling inside of you, and these tits will grow ripe with milk. Just tell me how bad you want it, princess-"

"Mhmm- S-So fucking bad, Daddy. Over fill me with your seed, and watch me take. It will be my duty, m-my honour. E-Everyone will know, you d-did this to me. W-What will they think of m-me then."

His round hands tugged and pulled at your lush, free fallen strands, one holding you steady by your neck. In sync, your fingers found themselves entangled with his short, platinum strands, burying his face deeper between the crook of your neck, as he remained lapping at your skin in between his words.

"They will know exactly who you belong to, who owns you. No man will dare to question my authority. My decision to make you mine. I'll fucking have you swollen all war long if necessary."

His pace had quickened, his messy thrusts sharper, as his bulging, stiff tip plummeted against your clit. The pain worth the pleasure. Reaching a climax, the sudden outburst of his warm seed overfilled inside of you, spilling out in between the edges as he shifted himself over you, caving in. His heavy mass falling onto you in relief, your sudden outcry of his name disguised as an audible moan, you cradle his solid body in your arms, unable to embrace him completely, you still manage to hold as he regained his composure.

A quick, incomplete clean, he props you up softly against him once more in his lap, stroking your hair, as your dense breaths become one.

"So proud of you, my precious. For all that you have done and put up with... Our children will be blessed with a graceful mother. Our realm delighted with you as their Queen, my Queen. I will return to you with our babe kicking inside of you, I promise."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

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lowkeyremi · 7 months

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"I'M PREGNANT"

How they react when you tell them you're pregnant ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami (fem reader)

content: no curse!au, fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of infertility (choso), mentions of a miscarriage, established relationship (marriage + dating), children, families.

Gojo Satoru

Upon arriving home from another stressful day of work, Satoru looks around for his loving, beautiful, awesomest (his words not yours), girlfriend.

"UGHH I had a HORRIBLE day today. Baby, where are you so I can tell you all about it?!!" He takes note of how most of the lights are off and he can't smell dinner. Even on your worst work days you always make dinner, so there are two things Satoru can think of off the top of his head. A. You're out with friends and forgot to tell him or, B. Something is really wrong and you're hiding from him.

His stomach drops at the idea of option B, and as much as he'd like to eliminate that option it is very possible.

"[name]? Where are you?" He asks loud enough for you to hear it from your shared bathroom. You stare silently at the three positive pregnancy tests on the floor next to you. You know it's only a matter of time before he figures it out because he's used your real name instead of a pet name.

"If you're cheating on me then don't worry. I'll only kill the bastard who dared to make a move on you." If you weren't so stressed from your current situation you might have laughed at the fact that Satoru is a clueless idiot. Why would you cheat on him?

He starts walking deeper into the apartment. Into your room, you note, because you can hear his soft footsteps.

"Tell the coward to come out, babe. I bet he's in there with you fearing for his life right now." His voice sounds deadly but you know deep inside he's probably devastated thinking you've cheated on him.

"It's just me 'Toru. I.. I um. I need a minute." He shuffles outside of the door. If you're correct he's probably pressing his ear to the door to listen for another man's voice.

"I'm unlocking the door." He says, and fuck, you forgot that there's that little key at the top of the door to unlock it.

"Toru don't!" He unlocks the door pushing it open to reveal what's going on. It all happens too fast, you launch to try and close the door. In the process, one of the three tests gets kicked. His eyes draw to the moving object. They focus in on the test and he about falls to the ground.

"B-baby.. what are those?" The silence after his sentence is so loud that you could hear the busy city life outside of the bathroom window.

"You know what they are Satoru." He makes his way over to you embracing you so delicately like he'd break you if he squeezed any harder.

"Am I gonna be a daddy?" The question is whispered softly into your ear. Your tears fall landing on his shoulder.

"If you want to keep the baby, then yes." Ultimately it's not his choice, he knows that, but he also understands that this statement you've mentioned means you've already made your decision to keep the little baby forming inside of you.

"Fuck yeah I wanna keep it! Hope it looks like me so you have two adorably cute people to look at everyday. Also what the hell, my pull out game sucks!" He starts muttering to himself about how he could have sworn he hadn't cum inside of you recently.

All your anxiety subsides, and is replaced with faint annoyance when you roll your eyes.

"I'm having second thoughts." He doesn't realize you're joking because of how serious you look.

"Waittttttt I take it back!! The baby can look like you instead PLEASEEEEE PLEASEE KEEP IT." It's astonishing how your boyfriend can go from thinking you've cheated on him to being a sap in a matter of seconds.

Geto Suguru

"Sugu... can we go get some food?" This is the sixth night in a row you've asked this question. At first, Suguru just thought you had the munchies, but after observing you, he thinks there could be a different reason for your sudden change of behavior.

"It's 2:30 in the morning doll.." You sit up sleepily to check your phone and sure enough there are about two minutes until it's 2:30 am.

"How do you do that, Sugu?" He shrugs matching your previous actions.

"You seem to be having munchies every night? You getting enough to eat?" You nod meekly to answer his question. He suspects that you're pregnant but he's not sure how to bring it up.

"I have, but I dunno.. I've just been having these crazy food dreams that make me so hungry. I don't know where it's even coming from." He responds with a nod.

You take note of how he scratches the back of his neck, when he does that he's usually thinking.

"What's on your mind, Sugu?" He sighs inwardly as you get up out of bed to go make your latest craving: pork cutlet rice bowl with a fried egg on top. You didn't even really eat pork much but now you will destroy a pork cutlet bowl.

"I think you might be pregnant." You stop as soon as those words leave his mouth. The tension in the room rises as you try to find words to say.

"I- what? What makes you say that?"

"I mean think about it, last month I came inside of you like three or four times, which is enough to get you pregnant. On top of that you were testing out that new birth control since the other one was giving you weird side effects, and now you're craving pork. You don't even like pork." His reasoning makes since, but you're in denial right now.

"...That's a strong claim to make.... I mean what if it's just munchies?" He rubs his temple before getting out of the bed to join you in a hug.

"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying I think you are. If you are, you know I'll be there every step of the way with whatever decision you choose to make." He's so understanding, it's one of the many things you love about him.

For his sake you guys go out and buy a test for you to take. You took two of them, both showing a '+'.

"Well, it looks like you're gonna be a papa, Sugu." You say handing him the test, so he can see for himself.

"You're going to make an amazing mother, my love."

Kamo Choso

The both of you were clueless to the symptoms. He'd told you it's unlikely he'd ever get you pregnant because his sperm was tested, and he's very much infertile.

So, imagine his surprise when he sees a box of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink while he's looking for a new tube of toothpaste.

You've already left for work so he'll wait for you to return to ask you about it.

He's excited, honestly. Choso has always wanted to start a little family with you, but he figured his infertility would stop that from happening. His doctor suggested adoption or a sperm donor. The two of you quickly ruled out the second option, it just didn't feel right to you guys.

The topic of adoption has been brought up here and there. You've both considered it deeply.

Choso can't sit still, he's off work today and the excitement within him will not fade away. All day long he's humming and practicing what he'll say to you when you get home. He even started looking at baby stuff.

When he hears the door unlock he's quick to act, greeting you at the door with kissing and smiles.

"Hey baby." His smile reaches his eyes, something it hasn't done in a little while.

"Hey, Cho. You seem to be in high spirits today."

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out the question without even thinking. Shit.. he was gonna try to ease into it.

"How'd you find out? Gosh did your stupid brother tell you? I was gonna surprise you!!" Confusion takes over your face when he gasps.

"You told Yuji before me? Baby.. how could you?" He's only half joking, he's a little bit sad, of course.

"I needed to tell someone!! I wanted to surprise you. I knew you were gonna be so excited." You pull him into a hug. He quickly reciprocates forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.

"Oh, I found out because the box of tests were under the sink."

"I probably should have hidden them better..."

Fushiguro Toji

Even though this is your second baby, telling him will never get any easier. When you'd told him about your first daughter he was indifferent about it. He'd go to great lengths to avoid you. Since you couldn't get through to him your only option was to call your step-son, Megumi.

He guessed that Toji was trying to figure out how to come to terms with being a father again. You had confronted your husband and he did admit to trying to understand the changes that would be made to your lives.

He said that his first daughter with you was his first and last child with you. You agreed with him because you only wanted a small little family. That was about three years ago. Here you are sitting on your bed looking at the test. Your daughter is playing on the floor with her toys.

"Mama, what wrong?" For her age she's quite perceptive. She must get that from Toji you think.

"Remember when you were telling Mama that you wanted a little sister or brother?" You'll break the news to her first. Her reaction will be the cuter and less stressful one.

"Mhm." Toji insisted on getting a bed frame that's somewhat high off the ground, so your little girl is standing right next to the bed waiting for you to pick her up.

Her deep green eyes stare deep into your soul as do your husband's eyes when he looks at you. She's sitting with her legs folded on your bed waiting for you to continue.

"Well.. you're going to have a little sibling." She springs up like a rocket, cheering in happiness.

"And when were you planning to tell me?" Your eyes quickly flicker over to the door frame which Toji is leaning against. There's a smug look on his face, nothing malice. Maybe he wants another one?

"Uh- Toji, baby, I was going to tell you soon. I just... Nami, my sweet girl? Can you go play with toys while mama and dad talk?" With ease she slides off your bed and walks out of your room.

Toji closes the door behind her ensuring she doesn't get nosy. "I didn't know how to tell you. You seemed really set on only having one.."

"I say stupid stuff all the time then change my mind. Do you really think I'd get mad at you for being pregnant? I'm the one who got you pregnant."

For once you don't know what to say.. you did think he'd be upset. Now that he's reassuring you all your anxiety washes away.

"I mean if it's another girl I might end it all." He's only joking, but you think another girl would be pretty funny.

"You're so stupid." He smirks at you, "You like it." Toji's not wrong, you do like it.

Nanami Kento

He could tell before you could. Everything started to add up when you complained about your back hurting, you hadn't mentioned period cramps in awhile and you seemed to be more clingy than Kento's ever seen you before.

It would make sense, he thinks. You'd gotten off of birth control last year and he stopped using condoms when you two got married. He wants kids more than you do, he believes. That want became more prominent after your first baby died three months into the pregnancy.

It would be cute to see you walk around with a round belly, complaining about little things like not being able to put your shoes on, or something of the sorts. He could once again experience that paternal feeling he felt awhile back.

"Honey, what're you daydreaming about now?" You ask joining him on the couch.

"Do you think you might be pregnant?" He asks suddenly taking you by surprise.

"I haven't really thought about it but it would make sense. The aches, cravings, yeah." If he were any normal man he'd get you a pregnancy test, but honey, this is Nanami Kento. You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the next day.

When you arrive at your appointment with your husband the doctor has you pee in a little cup and he asks a bunch of boring but necessary questions.

On the drive home you notice Kento tapping the wheel to the tune of the song you're playing. He's never really liked your music tastes so he must really be excited.

"I can't wait to get the results." You nod in complete bliss. You're still trying to process the potential pregnancy. There was a time in the past; two months after you'd gotten off your birth control, you ended up pregnant but unfortunately your little baby passed away before being born.

There's hope in your heart that this baby is here to stay... a rainbow baby.

Within a few hours the doctor calls your husband telling him the results are positive. You're going to be a mother if this baby stays strong.

"We're going to be parents." He's so excited but he tries to contain his excitement.

"You're going to be a great daddy, Ken." He smiles dreamily at you. This is a dream come true to him. He couldn't think of anything better.

"I just know this is the one, Honey. We aren't going to lose this one." He tells you quietly with a little smile and you trust him. After all, Kento would never lie to you.

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hyperiondickrider · 7 months

Text

Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 2)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

Vox was an angry man. At least, right now he was.

“What the FUCK does that ancient prick think he’s doing, putting his hands on my little assistant?” Yes, Vox was in quite the mood, watching your every step and action through his monitor. Watching Alastor drag you along through public, knowing he could see you both, was simply the most fucking audacious move he has ever made.

“God fucking dammit, I told her not to speak to that old-timey asshole.” Staring at his monitors and muttering profanities, he felt his screen begin glitching and buffering out of severe irritation.

“My, my, Voxxy, I wonder what’s got you so out of sorts, hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up, Val, you fuckin know why I’m pissed.”

“What? You miss the little conejita, hm?”

“Get out of my room, Val. I got work to do.” Through gritted teeth he managed to compose himself, returning his gaze to his monitors, focusing in entirely on you, and your fearful eyes.

The way your bunny ears fluttered when you were thinking. The way you batted your eyelashes in surprise. The way your little button nose twitched when you were upset.

God, it was hard to stay mad at you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp buzzing of his doorbell, likely signally your arrival. He watched on his screen as Alastor bade you goodbye, planting a soft kiss on your hand, and watched your face darken with a blush at the action.

If he was angry before, now he was fucking seething.

No sooner had you entered the building and greeted the secretary, then Vox harshly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you up to his office, ignoring your pretty little whimpers and pleas on the way up.

Finally in his office, he slammed the door and locked it before speaking.

“Y’know, dollface, I only had one rule for you here. Don’t fucking speak to Alastor. And y’know what, pretty girl? You just fucking broke it.” The lights in the room start to flicker and glitch as his irritation grows.

“‘M sorry, Mr Vox, b-but he wouldn’t l-leave me alone..” you cower away from his as he approaches you, eyes welling up with tears as your nose begins to run.

His anger stalls as he sees your teary eyes, letting out a sigh and releasing his power.

“C’mere, dollface.” He beckons you over, taking a seat behind his desk. As you approach he grabs you by the hips to sit you snugly on his lap, straddling him, as your face grew brighter.

“Y’know I can’t stay mad at you, babydoll. Just promise me you’ll try to avoid that asshole?”

You whimper affirmatively nuzzling into his chest as he pulled you in for a firm hug, reluctant to let you go.

“Okay, dollface. Run along now, Val wants to see you.”

Satan, was he such a sap for you.

Climbing off his lap you walk towards the door on shaky legs, gently waving him goodbye before closing it behind you.

Adjusting your skirt, you decided to go find Mr Val, to give him your report.

Wandering through the building, you finally found a staircase, and climbed up a few flights to reach the porn studios, where Valentino could usually be found. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of naked people and lube in the environment, you began to get rather desperate.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Mr Val?” You timidly asked the nearest actor.

“Uh, yeah, he’s in studio 6 right now, but be careful pretty girl. He’s in a mood right now.”

Hurriedly thanking the actor, you rushed off to studio 6 eager to speak to Val and leave the porn studios as quickly as possible.

“Goddammit, kitty! Why are these putas so fucking incompetent!” The sound of glass breaking indicated Mr Val’s presence, the actor’s observation of his poor mood being dead on.

“Well, if it isn’t the little asistente~ Any news for me, bonita conejita?”

And as always, his piss poor mood could be fixed in an instant by the presence of a pretty little thing. Feeling better already, he pulled you into his lap on his couch, your back against his much larger torso, as he began picking through strands of your hair, humming softly to himself.

“I-i found Angie, Mr Val. H-he’s stayin at the princess’s hotel in the center of town. I-I know you’re sad he’s not stayin with us anymore, b-but I think this could mean his work will improve, s-since he has more space ‘n all..” you trail off, embarrassed at your rambling, while Valentino simply chuckles at your naïve attempt to protect Angel from him.

He turns you around on his lap, blowing pink smoke into your face, making you cough gently.

“Such a kind little bunny, hmm? Trying to protect Angel Dust from the big bad moth man, yes? You really are una conejito estúpida, but such a cute one~”

He grabs your jaw forcing you to look him in the eyes, your skirt riding up as he forces you to lean forward, hands on his chest to brace yourself.

“I could make you a star, bebé bonita~ how’d you like that, everyone would know your face. And pussy I suppose.. no, I think I’d rather keep you all to myself, conejita.~”

He pulls you ever closer to pat your head and rub your ears, knowing just how much you love the attention.

“Hmm, you better go now, bebé. I got films to direct.” With a grin, he’s shoved you off his lap leaving you in a shaky heap on the floor. You carefully hoist yourself off the floor, deciding to head home for the day, all whiny and teary from how worked up everyone’s got you today. Oh well, hopefully Vox will take care of you later.

A/N: I love writing Val so much omg it’s so fun he’s such an ass

Tags: @whocaresimnothere

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #valentino x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #I’m in love with Christian borle

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chlmtsdoll · 2 months

Text

more of I was an angel just bc 🤍 18+ | shower smut | fluff

It wasn’t a surprise that you had woken up in Arts white T, fit with the smell of fresh linen the next morning.

As you lie sprawled out on your back, the cotton wrapped your skin but also the aroma filled your senses on the frosty winter morning outside, to contrast with how steamy last night with the two men had been. What was a surprise was that last night you assumed you would wake up back in your own bed. Alone and to rise within the empty sheets — But when you opened your eyes to face the day, you were met with the sight to your left and right of not just short golden locks, but also dark curly ones as well.

Art and Patrick hadn’t left you, instead they must of dozed off not too long after tucking you in. — it couldn’t have been a sweeter way to persevere the night you all had. The smell of vanilla mixed with the blend of oaky sent of wood hadn’t just been coming from the t-shirt on you, but beside you. Turning to face the blonde sleeping in peace, your sleepy expression turned into lips being spread into a smile as you ran your finger tips lightly through his soft hairs facing you. And Art had easily felt your touch. After a yawn, he opened his eyes gently, a sideways grin taking upon his lips. Half tired, half risen on his icy blue.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“I woke up before you.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but you fell asleep before me.”

You beamed more at the note of his voice, raspy but filled with sweetness in the mornings. You wanted to cherish every part of it during times like this when he wasn’t waking up next to Tashi just to go and face the word of tennis and people who never got him like this. Tender and completely defenseless for you. “You guys stayed..” your tone was quite but filled with fondness as your finger tips went to trace over Arts nose and cheeks.

“I didn’t want you to feel like we had treated you like some one night stand, and left to go play pool and spades or some shit.” The blonde chuckled. He took your hand up to his lips and kissed your wrists with lovingkindness and your heart could of exploded right then, your lips curved into a soft pout as you leaned in to leave a kiss on Arts soft lips. Smiling through your pecks as he held you there against his.

You felt safe going into it, you didn’t doubt for a second that the two boys would of made you feel obligated in any way that you’d just been used. Even if you weren’t always all knowing of Patrick’s intentions — you knew with Arts impression on him he knew how to be just as sensitive, even if he struggled to show it. You knew you’d be fine, and taken care of.

“How long till you think he’ll be up?” You gestured to the brunette who was seemingly sleeping faced away from the two of you.

“Well, that depends-” Art leaned up from your embrace to kick the other man’s leg and you covered your mouth with laughter. “..If he’s been listening to us the entire time or not.”

“Fuck off!” Patrick looked over the sheets and crowed pillows to glare at the blonde. “I was waiting for your sap fest to end so I could hear more about myself,”

“You sleep like a bear y’know.. like one of the ones right outside in the forest, for fucks sake.” You commented as Patrick narrowed at you and Art couldn’t help but laugh at your assertion.

“Yeah ? Well we both know you loved to climb this bear last night..” Patrick snapped back with a grin.

And before you could protest Art scoffed “alright, alright..”

Patrick only shook his head as his grin stayed put on his face and Art rolled his eyes even though he kept a light simper on his lips — you could always see just how much he adored Patrick, even with all of his annoyances he was just glad he had the presence of the brunette around time to time.

“I’m starving,” you sighed as you sat up as well.

“Yeah. What are you making us for breakfast, daddy?” Patrick nudged the other man as he propped up from the bed with a grin and Art shoved his hand away playfully.

“I think you need a bath first, baby,” Art glanced at you then to Patrick beside. “We all do. Especially you.. I just know you’re disgusting.”

“I take that as a compliment.” The darker haired man shrugged as he relaxed against the messed up sheets and wrinkled comforter. Arts eyes had peered down at your legs, so tiny to him, and his mind started to worry of the aftermath from last night. He’d pondered if you’d been alright although you said you were fine. Patrick was rough with you, and they hadn’t given your petite body much of a break really.

“Can you walk, pretty girl? I can carry you if not…” Art began as his brows furrowed in concern and when your doting eyes met his, smiling at the way he cared so much that you weren’t in any discomfort emotionally or physically.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah..” you lifted yourself up from the bed and stepped on the ground. Your calves were for sure a bit wobbly, and your thighs shook for a minute as you stood up — but overall you were perfectly shape. You stood and turned to both men with a sly smile across your face. “See. Good as new.”

The blonde chuckled as he observed you, “you’re so small I forget your a professional dancer and tennis player.” He grinned.

“Flexible.” Patrick added in a low ring as his eyes grazed over your toned legs, and he had a defining smirk on his face.

“Although, I could use your help to bathe..” your eyes flickered over the two, and your wide-eyes pleaded in a way they both had read as a signal towards your innocent smile that had a lace of minx to it.

You turned on your heels to approach the bathroom that was huge, if not as big as the bedroom itself. The shower taking up a good quarter of the room and when Art and Patrick had both entered, naked and standing godly as they rushed in to accompany you — you reached to lift off Arts shirt that you had been wearing, but the blonde stepped in to help you anyways. Arms lifting above you to reveal your bare body to match theirs, Patrick had been fumbling to turn on the shower head as he fought to watch Art look at you like you were heaven sent just to make this whole trip a little more fun for them.

Your smile was pretty. And you sunk your lip between your teeth as you watched Arts gentle eyes settle on you beneath him. His shirt was somewhere else again by the time you finally gave away to his ardor to make your way to the shower with Patrick.

“Will you help me with my hair ?” He heard you murmur sweetly to the brunette which he nodded all too quick as the water ran and began to heat up on you both. Your eyes met the blonde again provokingly, making him have to almost force himself from staring at just the way your angelic body moved towards Patrick’s six three stature without any caution in the world. He practically raced over to join you both.

Art stepped the tiles and got close to where the two of you’d been under the steamy water. Eyeing the way your delicate hand had been placed on Patrick’s chest, now wet and looking devout as the man peered down at you, his own hand went to entangle in your waves. Both of the men’s eyes darkened quickly, and it couldn’t go unnoticed at all the way their pretty cocks stood up at just the sight of you.

Your little figure glistening underneath the warm water. Your ass looking impeccable as you noticed the way their hard ons only grew as moments went on and you would reward yourself praise for the way you just kept egging them on, you turned to face Art. You brought a finger to your lips and lightly grazed your skittish small smile.

Art couldn’t help but laugh a little at it all, his grin returned, the blonde looked down at you and he viewed the way you looked at him in a pleading manner. To be touched.

“You just never get tired do you?”

It was more like you couldn’t get enough.

“I already slept.” was all you muttered and your soft giggle echoed off the fogged glass around the three of you. You stood on the tip of your toes to reach up and grab on to the other tall man so he would smooch you, Art cradled you body in his and leaned into the kiss while a low grown exited his throat. You pulled away as you felt Patrick’s towering presence nearing behind you,

“You just don’t how much of a fucking tease you are. What you can do to a man, let alone two — what we could do to you.. it’s dangerous.” The darker haired man warned into your ear, his voice a seductive kind of low that made you nearly moan right there. It sent shivers down your spine. You looked over your shoulder to meet his sage irises

“Show me.” Was all you needed to say for Patrick to give Art a look as his smirk spoke messages you couldn’t even comprehend, but Art knew all too well — he picked you up in one swift motion, your legs gone to wrap around his waist, and you smiled with a flirtatious flicker in your eye as you held his broad shoulders tightly. He felt the warmth of your thighs, trailing his fingers to line his dick up to your entrance.

“Already soaked. You’re such a naughty greedy girl, just can’t stop thinking about being filled with cock constantly. Huh ?” Art practically grunted as he felt your wetness just graze him before he started to pushed into you, which made your lips fall agape as you moaned through a breathy dazed smile and you nodded.

“Mmm, yeah.” Your skin was hot. Your pussy had taken Art like a glove almost immediately as he held your ass in his own hands, and you sunk down hungrily with ease — it was until the blonde reached for the other lean man behind you, a grasp of his shoulder making him inch forward to the both of your bodies, and you then felt Patrick’s cock just inches from your heat. You sunk your teeth into your sugary bottom lip as you had put together what was about to happen. Your eyes went soft with a burning sensation of need but also edginess. The brunette’s hands go to your slim little waist as he let himself to your dripping core, feeling you up and your mouth had opened to let out a little sigh of relief before he started to sink into your hole with a deep groan escaping his own. You body immediately started to shake and jerk with the urge to actually lose the feeling in your legs now.

It stung and it stretched your small enclosure in the most delightfully and pleasant way even though,

“Oh ! O-oh.. fuck.. - my god,” you closed your eyes tight and you never felt more full in your whole life. Whimpering out like your life depended on it. You’d been meshed between the two men as the hot shower proceeded around you all while you were getting filled up with dick as the heat rose. Arts face has contorted in pleasure and he let a noise slip from his lips as palmed your face so you’d look at him.

“Be good. Take it like my sweet, sweet little girl, I know you can for me” He panted out as he stared to fuck up into you and the other man thrusted without any hesitation — making your wet cunt their own mess now. Your whines were high pitched and the feeling was like ecstasy as the blondes hands went to run over your figure and he nibbled at your neck, while the other ran a tongue over your exposed skin and your head went dizzy.

Arts back had hit the glass of the shower and Patrick’s free hand had beat against that as well and you’d all been in synchronized moans to the thrash of movement against the shower. Your aching pussy being rutted into senselessly, you feel as if your were trembling from the inside out and pink nails dug into the glossy skin of Arts back as you let out choked cries. Both men practically holding you up as they fucked up your petite body, skin like soft butter being ruled by sweat now between their lofty gallant frames.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You warned, but there wasn’t any time to do much as you’d already been a trembling mess between the two, cries escaping your lips on instant as you let the high run through your body.

“Good girl, princess,” Art had palmed your ass in his much bigger hand as he felt your body cling to his and the men stilled with the way your warmth around them pulsed, gushing your arousal on to their members as you pulsed around the way their hardness throbbed inside of you

“Fuck, your clenching us so much, sweet girl.”

You had breathed out a soft titter as you released your legs from its tight grasps on Arts waist, he lifted your body as he slipped from your drooling cunt with a groan and so did the brunette. You effortlessly go down on your knees, melting with the marble tiles beneath you as both men still had full twitching cocks beyond you and your hand went to grasps them both. You saw Patrick release his head against the glass as he cursed under his breath and you watched as Arts tongue darted out to wet his lips. Your smile couldn’t have been more pretty and dainty contrast your hands that were doing the worst to their erections.

You wrap your lips around Art’s dick and let out a light moan as he immediately went to grasp at your hair. “Fuck, angel.” You looked up at him with pure eyes set on the way his mouth made the perfect ‘o’ shape at the way you throated him, sucking and whimpering on his cock like a slut just begging for it — your hand worked godly on Patrick and he watched you with a deep sulk noise of his own.

“Shit. I wanna feel that pretty mouth, me next.” He panted and your lips slid off of Art to run a tongue against Patrick and you observed him moan now with a smile on your lips. You sucked on him quick as you pumped Art and you knew by the way their veins had been bulging and burning to cum ropes right then you were getting them close.

“Your gonna make me cum, baby.” Art huffed and his eyes fluttered shut, your hand jerked him in sharp movements. Patrick couldn’t help but send his knuckles to your hair as well, you sunk him into your sweet mouth and your drool had covered his dick to the base. You tried not to gag as you eased up to focus on Art again, moving your hand in circular movements around his tip till the blonde palmed the shower handle beside him and he groaned while he came hard, white leaked on to your chest bellow and the two boys where a mess of noises from above. Patrick had started to cum too, the feeling being too great to grasps — Both of their seed slide down your breasts and it made you whimper just from the sight.

All panting harshly you run a clean stripe up Art again to get the last drip from his now twitching cock, never losing his eyesight as you did the naughty act on your tongue, a girlish giggle escapes you as he bent to lift you to your legs.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing.” Patrick shook his head and his heavy breathing caught up to him. He smacked your ass with a cheeky smile when you stood beyond them — it only made you stumble just a tad bit, but Art caught your movements as he let out a breathy chuckle of his own. The blonde intertwined your tender hands in his as he kissed your knuckles.

“Okay…let’s actually get you clean, little one.”

A/N: can you tell my love language (words of affirmation) by how much I love writing my favorite thing ever ? (dialogue)

#challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers smut #art donaldson x female reader #artrick smut #artrick x reader #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader #i love art donaldson #patrick zweig x you #challngers x reader #ballerina!reader #inexperienced!reader #x reader #petite!reader

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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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