#unholy series
Text
Fire on fire—Javier Peña x f!reader**
Chapter 17 of the Unholy series
summary: you and Javier spend your first full night together. A new chapter waits for you both in Cali.
word count: 4.8k
WARNINGS: talk of grief in the beginning. Blindfolds, lingerie, face sitting, dry humping, doggy (implied rough sex), squirting, cum play.
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
A/N: last chapter, lovebugs! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had sharing it with you all. Thank you so much for all the love and support💕 P.S: here is the inspo for the lingerie😌and keep an eye out for the extra one-shot post-Colombia that’s gonna come real soon!
gif: @vera-kozhemiakina
series masterlist | AO3
There’s an unusual heat around you this morning. Granted, the atmosphere in Colombia is always this way, but you wake up to the sound of rain tapping lightly against your window, wrapped in your beloved blanket and fingers intertwined with yours.
It’s the second time Javier has spent the night, only now there is so much more to be felt between you. Grief, anger, tension, love, everything that has been boiling for the past fifteen years.
You’re nose to nose with him, having the perfect opportunity to study every little detail about him. There’s something so soothing about watching him finally get proper rest; you can see his long eyelashes, his stubbly cheek, and plush lips that can be both the sweetest and sinful touch you have ever felt on your skin. The fact that he’s holding your hand in his sleep makes the moment all the more endearing, like a perfect little gesture that’s a secret between the two of you.
“Staring is creepy, you know.”
God, his voice is huskier in the morning and you begin to wonder how come you’ve spent this long without moments like these.
“I’ve heard it can be romantic,” you retort, smiling as he’s slowly waking up.
You caress his hand, and Javier fully opens his eyes—his brown, warm eyes that don’t cease the look of admiration for you.
“How would you feel if you’d wake up to me staring at you?” he asks.
You shrug. “Pretty good. You look cute when you’re needy.”
Javier makes a mocking sound, some disapproval mixed with admiration, and your smile widens.
“You mumble in your sleep,” you say out of the blue. “Did you know that?”
Javier seems surprised by your statement, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he gazes fondly at you, awakening more and more with each passing second.
“How would I know that?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I figured one of your lady friends noticed at some point in time.”
The sound that leaves Javier’s mouth has a hint of mockery, though not explicitly so. You reckon it is one of his default noises when people mention his personal life or habits, so you don’t bother with it. Perhaps you’re not the most qualified person to mention this at all.
Or perhaps you are.
“They never stayed long enough for that,” he casually mentions, shifting in bed so that he’s staring at the ceiling, seemingly contemplating everything.
“I feel so special,” you gush, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes.
But Javier doesn’t move.
He keeps staring at the ceiling, barely blinking, and you figure something’s the matter. Not that he’s the most communicative person in the world—particularly with you—but you have enough of that God complex to actually believe he might open up to you in some way, especially now, given how yesterday went.
“What do I mumble about?” Javier asks absentmindedly.
“You keep saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. Not sure to whom or for what. Some things in Spanish too, about forgiveness, I think.”
Bits and pieces return to Javier’s mind, crystal clear now. The faces he sees are ghosts of his past, as well as his present, always lingering in the dark, haunting and tormenting, laughing at him on occasion.
He finally turns towards you, and you see it: somewhat of a sadness darkens his eyes, otherwise emptied of the happiness he momentarily felt last night with you.
“My mom,” he replies after a while. “The first person I apologize to is my mom. Always. I apologize to her for… not being able to be there more for her. She died when I was fifteen.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was sick for a long time and I couldn’t do much of anything. Then I apologize to Loraine. My ex-fiancé. I met her after college. I proposed for all the wrong reasons. We weren’t—“
“Did you love her?”
Javier doesn’t need to ponder over that. Though he cannot help the embarrassment that comes with that story.
“I thought I did,” he tells you with honesty. “I did care for her, but it wasn’t true love. She lied to me about being pregnant, I lied to her about being in love… match made in hell.”
You chuckle softly, your head resting on his bare shoulder as you let him speak freely. It’s probably the first time in God knows how long that he gets the chance to let it all out, raw and real, in a place that keeps him safe.
“Then I apologize to all the innocent lives I couldn’t save since I arrived in Colombia. All the children, the mothers and fathers I failed. And, at the end, I apologize to you.”
“To me?”
Javier grunts a soft mhm that resembles a purr, and you feel your body tauter, warmer.
“Why do you apologize to me?” you ask.
He turns to look at you, meeting your eyes with a remorseful glare, and you hold your breath.
“For not being honest with you in the first place. I could’ve spared us both a lot of pain and anger if I’d just… told you back in college how I felt. If I would’ve been open.”
“You’re not the only one carrying the fault,” you try to coax him. “I wasn’t the most open person in the world either.”
“Match made in hell.”
You chuckle more audibly this time around, with Javier mimicking the sound as well.
“Then how come this works?” you retort.
He can’t argue against that. There is no answer to that. What he does know is that, whatever the trouble or the question, you are the answer.
“We’re made of the same clay,” you continue. “We… think the same, we act the same and we do the same.”
“A little troubling how similar we are.”
“Shockingly, I agree.”
But there’s something else Javier wants to ask, and he’s hesitant to do so. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up after last night, nor live under the impression that spending the night together might change your professional feelings.
He coos your name, looking at you as if he’s desperately trying to memorize every detail of your face.
“I gotta leave for Cali tomorrow.”
His voice is small, afraid to go on, and you can tell he’s forcing himself to go on as brave as he did till then.
“I know.”
“Steve and Sofia are coming, too. They’ll be part of the team. They put me in charge, not really sure why—“
“Javi.”
“—but they want me and someone else to supervise the entire Cali operation. I nominated you.”
“Javi.”
He finally hears you, sees your pleading face, begging him to listen to reason and end his babbling. It’s an unusual habit for him, talking this much, but you always managed to bring that out of him, one way or the other.
“If you want to know if I’m going or not, just ask me, like a normal person,” you almost giggle.
“I meant every single thing I said in that letter. Including the part where I said I want you to be okay, no matter where you are or who you are with. If you don’t want to, I understand it.”
“I do want to. I will be joining the team in Cali.”
You see the relief on Javier’s face, and you almost laugh fondly at his stubbornness to conceal it through a rugged, yet forced expression.
“You are?”
“Mhm. I’ve made a commitment to the DEA, to the case… of course I’m sticking around and seeing this through.”
Javier exhales, after what feels like an eternity, and simply looks you over.
“I’m flattered you thought to nominate me as your coworker,” you smile. “I would’ve thought you’d ask Steve first.”
“He was the backup in case you said no. Just don’t tell him I said that.”
“God, you’re so stubborn.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
You peck his lips, getting lost in his scent and his taste once more. Soon, your bodies get entangled, skin pressed against skin. Javier’s lips leave a wet trail as they suck on a particular spot on your neck, and you hum softly.
“I’m so much better than you at this,” he says, keeping up his sweet torment.
You smile, your hand grazing his chest and stomach in its devilish pursuit. Javier stops, gasping when your hand fists his cock, as slowly as humanly possible. You reach up for his lips while you keep that same pace, beyond satisfied with the result.
“You’re kidding, right?” you joke. “I’m actually crushing you at this.”
“Maybe—don’t use the word ‘crushing’ when you’re—hmm—doing this.”
You giggle against his lips, the moment making Javier ticklish and causing him to laugh alongside you. But then, his smile fades as your face darkens, haunted by something.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away.
You simmer in the bizarre sensation for a little while, trying to pinpoint what the exact issue is. And then, you come to the realization.
“I’m fine,” you say, still frowning at the sudden change of pace. “It’s just… I don’t know why, but Escobar popped into my head.”
“Trying not to take that as an insult.”
You chuckle, watching him with a guilty figure. “He knew me. When I went after him, he recognized me by my birthmark, he knew my middle name—“
“Carina.”
You look at him, stunned that he knows that piece of information that truthfully, you don’t recall confessing to him.
“Economics professor, Mr. James, always insisted to call us all by our full names. I know you really hated to be called Carina. Especially by me.”
“Which is why you kept doing it in front of others.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I don’t know why this happened now. I’m sorry. I mean he’s dead, he doesn’t…”
Javier rolls over to the side, taking your hand in his and stroking it gently. “Don’t have to apologize for anything that shithead did or said. You can be angry and upset about it.”
You respond to his touch, smiling fondly at him.
“Don’t ever say you’re not a good man,” you tell him.
“You’re going soft, cariño.”
“In your dreams, Peña.”
You press a chaste kiss to his lips, then get out of bed, leaving Javier behind to watch your naked figure roam around the room.
“Where are you going?” he asks, almost saddened by your departure.
“I gotta head down to the embassy, confirm my transfer for tomorrow. You can either stay here or come along with me.”
Javier grunts, exhaling along with it, and he smirks your way. Hate as you might to admit it, you were a sucker for this sassy side of him.
“You’re putting me in an impossible situation here,” he huffs.
“How come?”
“Cause if I stay here, I get to see you walk around with nothing on, but if I go with you… well, we could make out in the evidence room.”
You chuckle, shaking your head at him. You bounce back to the bed, pressing another kiss on his lips. His hands sneak around you, giving your ass a good squeeze, and you give him an unimpressed glare.
“Could you go there and bounce back here again?” Javier asks, earning another chuckle from your side, paired with a playful push of his arm.
“You’re so filthy,” you coo.
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
You pull away abruptly, leaving Javier hanging low and dry.
“I’m going to the embassy,” you insist, starting to get dressed. “You can stay here playing with yourself or you can join me and make a good impression.”
“Leaning towards the first one. How would I make a good impression there?”
“As the lead man for the Cali operation, showing up at the office to ensure the smooth transaction of the other lead man, on a Sunday, no less, would look good for you.”
Javier huffs, finally getting out of bed and searching for his clothes. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
As it turned out, no one was happier about your return to the office than Claudia Messina. She even gave you a hug, which was a rare sight and treat for any agent at the embassy, repeatedly making sure that you were okay and that you were, in fact, there to sign as the co-lead in the Cali operation.
Javier stood by your side the whole time, proudly nodding to confirm Claudia’s questions while also ignoring her side-eyeing him whenever you spoke. He was fairly certain by now that she knew you and he had something going on behind closed doors, but then again, she needn’t know more than the absolutely necessary information.
After you signed the papers and confirmed your transfer to Cali early on tomorrow, Javier invited you for lunch, thus marking your first official outing as a couple and your very first date. You enjoyed a rather quiet meal together, which was a welcome change from the usually fast-paced, loud and deadly environment you learned to navigate your daily tasks through.
“I’m glad you’re joining the team,” Javier tells you as he’s parking the car in front of your building.
His soft voice, a little huskier than usual, pairs devastatingly nicely with the rain that’s pouring outside. The raindrops tap fast and cruel on the windows, cooling down the city, yet it has the exact opposite on you.
“I know,” you retort coyly. “What would you do without me?”
Javier smiles and huffs. “Probably be more productive.”
“More productive, really? Weren’t you the one being needy this morning?”
“Weren’t you the one who threw herself at me two days ago?”
“Oh, you wanna play this game?”
“I do.”
“Do you? Cause may I remind you, you were the one getting a hard-on in the conference room while staring me down.”
Javier smiles, walking you to the door and shielding you from the rain at the same time.
“No comeback?” you huff, opening the door. “You’re really going soft on me, Peña.”
“On the contrary.”
You notice his wicked smile and it triggers one of your own.
“What do you feel like doing?” you ask.
“It’s fuckin’ blazing outside and we’re free till tomorrow morning. What to do, what to do…”
He approaches you, gently grabbing the hem of your shirt and giving you a lustful look.
“I might have something in mind,” you say, brazen and zealous.
Fire spreads rapidly throughout your veins, your skin burning at the mere sight of Javier, and the simple thought of what you’d like to do getting you wetter than you would’ve thought.
“Yeah?” Javier grins. “Like what?”
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.”
You steal a kiss from him, and rush to the bathroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You actually forgot about the bold fashion statement you’re currently slipping into, with everything that’s been going on. You’re not even sure as to why you’ve bought them in the first place, but the timing couldn’t have been better now.
You check yourself in the mirror, slowly twirling and making sure everything is in place. The black straps of the fabric wrap your body in a taut way that’s giving you a big confidence boost. Inhaling deeply, you smile to yourself and grab the tie that’s been gathering dust on your bathroom drawer.
When you re-enter the bedroom, leaning seductively against the doorframe, you see Javier sitting on the edge, hands joined in between his legs and staring down. He senses your presence and looks up, eyes wide and pupils fully blown out.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, eyeing you up and down.
“That’s the plan. I take it you like it?”
Javier huffs, the sound mocking you and your silly little question, and for once you don’t take offense at it. You know the overall look—the black lace underwear and its garter belt—is sultry and inviting in every way anyone can think of. The only thing missing from Javier’s facial expression is drool.
You inch closer to him, tantalizingly slow, revealing the tie in your hand. You reach around his broad shoulders to remove his leather jacket. Javier watches you intently, curious as to where is your brilliant, filthy mind headed but at the same time, all too eager to process your latent moves. So he reaches to unbutton his shirt, but you are quick to grab his hands, thus putting an end to his actions. Without a word, you guide him further up the bed, and when he’s leaning against the pillows, still in his shirt and jeans, you open the bedside drawer to reveal some more fabrics.
It’s only when you’re tying his hands around the headboard’s ends that Javier raises his brows and starts to get a sense as to where the afternoon is headed.
“Are you serious?” Javier asks, though not making an effort to free himself from the constraints.
“Do I look like I’m not?”
“What you look is gorgeous. And fuckable.”
“And you look like you’re about to get needy, which I happen to enjoy.”
Securing him to the bed, you move on to his face, pressing a languid kiss over his lips before tying the tie around his eyes.
“Oh, come on,” Javier whines.
You have to admit, the sight of a restrained Javier to your bed stirs powerful emotions inside of you. A smile breaks from the corners of your lips as you join him on the bed, your legs on either sides of his clothed thigh. You bite on your lower lip as you press your core onto him, arms on his shoulders for support. Before you can even realize it’s happening, you’re grinding on his lap, while Javier is completely unable to response.
“This what you had in mind for the rest of the day?” Javier asks in an unusually raspy voice. “Use me as leverage to make yourself cum?”
“A little,” you smile in utter delight.
The sensation of rubbing your barely clothed pussy on his thigh, the raw electricity of it, is causing your head to spin.
“That why you’re dressed like this? To make me feel worse?”
“Not worse,” you coo while continuously grinding on him. “Just a little riled up.”
“A little? We’ll see about that.”
You smile and grind faster, needier; Javier clenches his fists, anger building fast within. Sheer anger at being unable to see your gorgeous figure desperately fuck yourself on him, using his body as a propeller for your own pleasure. And then he comes to realize that that’s been your plan all along.
Devilish and effective. Just like you.
He loves this, too; the way you’re using his body as leverage to reach that pinnacle of desire and ecstasy, making him squirm and nearly beg for release himself. He feels his cock throbbing in his jeans, pulsing with immense need with each roll of your hips against his jeans, yet he knows that soon he’ll get to feel you properly.
He hears your breaths get ragged, soft moans cooed in between, and he smiles. He can picture your beautiful figure fucking yourself on his thigh and getting warmer and wetter with each passing second, and the mere thought could easily make him come in his pants like some lousy, horny teenager.
Well, maybe he is that way with you.
“Fuck,” you mutter, and Javier smiles.
“That feel good, cariño?”
“Yes—“
You know that if you keep going down this treacherous path, you’ll eventually come, messily and speedy, and you don’t want it to happen this way.
Besides, this is simply a test of strength and self-control. For both of you.
Your hips no longer rut against his thigh; instead, you cup his cheeks and kiss him, hungrily, like you haven’t felt the touch of his lips for the longest time.
“Cariño?”
“Hmm?”
“Sit on my face.”
Bewildered, you stare at his immobilized figure, contemplating, craving. You haven’t really done this before and it’s stirring all kinds of emotions inside of you.
“Uh—are you sure?” you check.
“Did I stutter?”
“No, but I just wanna make sure—“
“Sit. On my face. Now.”
He doesn’t bother asking you to untie him, nor does he squirm or try to break free. No; he simply waits, breaths deep and as hungry as the body they’re being freed from.
“Panties to the side. And sit,” Javier enunciates, as if reading your mind regarding your struggle about the lingerie.
You follow through, nearly embarrassingly wet by this point. You notice the erection strangled in his jeans, and you can’t help but admire his self-control.
Both legs on either sides of his face, you lower yourself onto him. That first brush of his stubble and mustache against your folds is thrilling, his tongue lapping diligently to collect every ounce of arousal you’re capable of giving him sensational. It’s also mighty impressive how he’s able to provide you with so much pleasure already, even with his hands tied. Between moments of ecstasy, you remark Javier’s clenched fists, tugging at the restraints. You know that he craves to mold your skin between his fingers, to grope you till he leaves bruises.
“Javi—fuck—“
He can’t say a damn thing, not with his mouth full of your soaked pussy. You start to rub yourself all over his face, feeling the buildup in your belly, ready to be detonated. Javier grunts, the vibrations an additional aid towards your impending orgasm. Your mind gets foggy, your breaths shallow and your chest tight; and then you feel it throughout your entire body.
“Fuck, right there—oh God—“
You finally come, your body seizing entirely on Javier’s face as your orgasm knocks all air out of your lungs. You feel a hand tightly gripping your right ass cheek, and you come to your senses enough to realize that his left hand broke free from the headboard. Shit, that’s a determined man, you think.
You look down, seeing Javier licking his lips. “Good girl,” he praises.
Blood rushes to your face, your cheeks now appearing sun-kissed, as you climb down, settling on his lap. His free hand is now on your back, gently resting there, waiting for you to make your next move. You remove the blindfold, and Javier blinks several times in a row, taking in your gorgeous attire, almost unable to believe that this is real and that he gets to have you this way.
His other hand is now free as well, and they both move to hold your waist, not daring to move. He stares you down, and you know he’s gonna take his revenge for what you did.
That’s exactly what you were counting on.
“My turn now,” Javier mutters.
He rolls you on the bed, flat on your tummy and ass up. He bites his lips, quickly disposing of his clothes. When he wraps his hand around his aching cock, he grunts as if in pain. He gives himself a few strokes, stopping abruptly the second he realizes how sensitive he truly is and that he’d probably come in a matter of seconds if he keeps doing this.
“Can I fuck you my way?” he asks.
And his question comes so kindly and sweetly that you nearly tremble.
“Yes,” you breathe.
“On all fours then.”
You obey, sitting in position. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer, and you suck in a breath. The anticipation is killing you, and you know that no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you’re prepared for what’s to come, it won’t be true.
Cock in his hand and hand on your waist, Javier thrusts inside you in one languid motion. You instantly moan, the feeling of having him so thick and eager inside of you utterly maddening. He starts to fuck you with fervor, wasting no time. He’s fucking you like he only has five minutes to spare, so much so that you can barely breathe. You try to reach around to touch him somehow, in some way, but he swiftly grabs both your arms and keeps them locked together, snapping his hips faster into you. He’s mesmerized by the way his cock disappears in and out of you, the way your ass bounces against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and the sounds you make… Jesus fucking Christ, this is the best sight he’s ever seen.
Your face buried in the mattress, hair falling down your face and your cunt at Javier’s mercy, no sounds other than some groans and moans leave your throat. It’s pretty impressive that for a man who ran on two hours of sleep, cigarettes and whiskey for the longest time, he snaps his hips into you so fast you’re nearly seeing stars. He can’t get enough of you, the way the lingerie is strapped to your body, it’s all giving him a fever.
“Fuck, you’re so—beautiful,” he grunts. “S-So good.”
“Javi, I n-need—“
“Hm? What was that?”
“I need to cum, please—“
“So do it.”
You’d reach around to play with your clit if you could, but Javier is taking everything from you, and you can’t help but give it to him. A few more thrusts and he’s done for: next thing he knows, he pulls out and comes all over your ass, jerking himself off to completion. He watches you squirm and, freed from his grip, you rub your clit speedily, and you come with a ragged moan, your orgasm messy and unusually wet, spurting everywhere.
It takes you a while to settle down. Then you feel Javier’s hands on your ass again, only now they’re gently cleaning your skin with what feels like a warm cloth. When you move to the edge of the bed, you see the mess over the sheets, slightly embarrassed.
“Wow,” you notice. “I don’t think I’ve ever… came this hard.”
Javier smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Of course you would, you cocky bastard.”
He leans down to kiss you, falling atop of you again. “So I take it you liked the lingerie?” you cheekily ask.
“We pretty much ruined your sheets. Take that as you will.”
It’s no longer embarrassment that you feel, but rather fondness, and a certain happiness. It’s bizarre—you’ve never felt happiness quite like this. It feels deserved, after all the hard work and hardships you’ve both endured.
You crawl into the bed, listening to the rain falling against the windows. Javier joins you, one arm wrapped around you.
“Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna go through hell again, you know?” Javier says, visibly contemplative.
“Nice pillowtalk.”
Javier chuckles softly, turning to look at you.
“I know though,” you reply. “We should enjoy this afternoon as much as we can.”
“Any other devilish plans on your mind?”
“Eh. Let’s see how you feel in half an hour, maybe we give it another go.”
You graze his cheek, weirdly thankful for all the moments that led you to this particular one, safely in his arms.
“You know I’d fuck you all the time if I could,” he tells you.
“You sure know how to flatter your women.”
“About the mission though… I’m thinking we should have some boundaries.”
“Like what? No making out in the break room or getting down and dirty in the evidence room?”
You smile at one another, smugly remembering the precise moments you broke all rules known to professionalism.
“Would help, yes,” Javier says. “It’s for our safety. We can’t let people know we’re together. Otherwise—“
You take his hand into yours, trying to reassure his pessimism. You can’t help but share it as well, although you know it consumes him more than you on occasion.
“I know,” you tell him sweetly. “We’ll be careful.”
Javier sees your wide smile, and it manages to make him flustered for what feels like a premiere in his life.
“What?” he asks.
“So… we’re together? A real couple?”
“I thought it was obvious.”
You shrug. “I like to hear it.”
Javier’s thumb grazes your cheek, cupping it as if he’s holding the most valuable possession in the world in his hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs.
“I know that too. We’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be fine.”
And for the first time since he’s been in Colombia, Javier means it, and feels it to be true. He knows Cali will be just as—if not more—murderous and bloody than Medellin and Bogota, but it doesn’t feel that difficult now that he’s not alone.
He was never alone when you were around him. And maybe, hopefully, he won’t ever be alone again.
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#Javier Peña#Javier Peña x reader#Javier Peña x you#Javier Peña fanfiction#Javier Peña fic#Javier Peña smut#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena smut#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#narcos smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#unholy series
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Matthias: *has one Unholy™️ thought about nina*
Matthias to himself: TAKE A WALK YOU ABSOLUTE WHORE. AND WHILE YOUR AT IT YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUMP IN A RIVER YOU SLUT.
#his chapters are so funny to me lmaooooo#bro is so down bad all the time and he actively hates it💀#meanwhile Nina: hi I like your unholy thoughts#he could probably get away with half the stuff he fantasizes about if he just let go a little#he’s so big and sweet and stupid lmao#matthias helvar#soc#six of crows#soc matthias#soc nina#nina zenik#helnik#incorrect soc#incorrect soc quotes#Matthias#Nina#soc helnik#the grisha series#grishaverse#leigh bardugo#leigh bargudo#crooked kingdom
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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 10
✩°｡ ⋆ a death wish
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader
- oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings:
arranged marriage au, drama, angst, angst, angst, another gojo cameo (but he is being kinda insufferable?), naoya <- a warning in and of itself
notes:
soon, guys, soon. not now... but naoya will meet his end soon
and yeah, the end is a timeskip. next chapter would explain how :)
listen to: monster - big bang
✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter nine : all done <- previous ✩ next -> chapter eleven : transcendent truth
A week later, true to what Naoya said, Megumi still felt like he was the biggest fool out there.
To say that he was simply heartbroken would be an understatement, because it went beyond that. Is there even a word that could adequately explain extent of this betrayal? He was utterly deceived, maneuvered like a chess pawn.
If that day hadn't unfolded as it did, how long would he have remained oblivious to this deception?
And yet, despite that, no matter how searing the pain was, Megumi apparently wasn't heartless enough to drive you out. So he chose to go instead, renting a room at the nearest motel to the headquarters.
He made a conscious effort to avoid you whenever possible—drowning himself in missions so he didn't have to see you in the workplace. And it worked, he hadn't crossed paths with you since last week. The love tucked away in the deepest corner of his heart tugged at him, urging him to at least check on how you were doing, but his wounded pride made him focus on another task at hand.
"Megumi?"
This. Kurusu Hana was calling for him.
"What is it?" he turned to her, who was standing by Tsumiki's bedside, having just finished her enchantments on her. The very least he could get after being dragged into this deceitful marriage with you was Tsumiki being released from her curse.
Hana looked at him curiously. "Are you alright? You seem out of sorts, somehow..."
The past week, all Megumi did outside his workhours was tending to Tsumiki and interacting with Hana in the hospital. After getting to know her a little more, he noticed she was a bit scatterbrained. However, she seemed like a genuinely good person and was pleasant to have around, and before he knew it, he was much more comfortable around her and not exactly holding back his words as he used to.
"Ah, no," he brushed her off. "Just thinking of some things."
"Oh..."
On her side, Hana couldn't help but notice that something seemed different about him. "Is... uh, your wife not coming?"
Megumi almost jerked in his seat. Oh, right. He realized he hadn't mentioned to her that you two weren't on speaking terms anymore. He hadn't felt the need to bring it up.
“No.”
“Uh… I don’t mean to pry, but… did you two have a fight or something?”
“I think that’s what you’d call prying, personally.”
Hana felt like her face would burst into flames out of sheer embarrassment. Come on, you like him but don’t make it that obvious.
"Sometimes talking about it helps, you know," she braved herself. No, she reasoned. She was here as a friend. Not that she was curious.
Or maybe just a bit?
Megumi eyed her sharply. "About what?"
He didn't mean to get snappy. But when you were on the brink of divorce with your wife, you were entitled to, right?
"Your problems," she asserted. "I'm saying, talking to someone can make you feel better."
"To you?"
Hana gulped. "Yeah."
It had been daunting enough to know that he was married. Nothing could be worse than that―certainly not saying that he could rant to her.
Megumi didn't want to have his problem out in the open, much less to someone who was more like a stranger like Hana was. But he had no one to turn to... and truth to be told, he was still in an internal debate with himself regarding everything―what his life had come to.
He scoffed. "Highly doubt it."
"It does! Look, I'm going to start first―"
She then proceeded to ramble about how her landlady was an annoying woman who kept adding extra charges. Her expressions shifted so frequently that it became almost comical.
She was kind of like you, in a way―the expressiveness.
Then again, maybe not really. Evidently, you managed to fool him completely and fully, you were hiding something behind that crafted cheerfulness you showed to him.
"―and haaah! Now I feel much better!" she remarked with a wide smile and twinkling eyes. "See? It's harmless! I won't divulge it to anyone, I promise!"
"Are you an idiot?" Megumi deadpanned, and Hana merely chuckled, abashed at how much she'd gotten worked up over it.
Megumi didn't have much to say, however. He was just grappling with numerous thoughts, and now he started wondering if having someone to listen might offer some relief, even a little. "How would you feel if someone very close to you lied to you?"
"Huh? Someone... close?" Hana was clearly caught off guard. And when he nodded, she tilted her head to the side, seemingly choosing her words carefully. "I'd be upset, of course."
"Would you forgive them?"
"That's a tricky question... I think it depends?"
"On what?"
Hana blinked in confusion. What had happened to Megumi that he pulled this... sad―almost desperate―expression? Who exactly did he want to forgive?
"I'm not an expert on this but..."
At that moment, she had an epiphany―could it be... you?
"If it's truly something that's so unforgivable, then I suppose... no," she decided then, albeit warily, gauging Megumi's reaction. "There's just a limit to what someone can forgive."
"Hmm... A limit, huh?"
Certainly, she wasn't expecting any reaction that would give him away, and Hana wasn't someone who would take an advantage out of someone who was fighting with his wife, anyway. But still, if it was you that he had in mind, then she was... genuinely curious.
Meanwhile, Megumi was left with even more thoughts than before. Thoughts about the whole shit of the ordeal, and you, among everything else. And he thought, he had his answer then.
He still didn't find it in himself to.
You hadn't seen Megumi ever since that day.
You knew he was intentionally avoiding you, given that his work desk in headquarters was always empty whenever you clocked in. And you weren't actively seeking him out either―seeing him would only make you feel shame all over, so no, you were fine with how it was.
It still hurt, but it was more bearable these days.
"Sena-san, are you sure you're alright?" Nobara asked you after both of you finished your mission. You two weren't exactly close, but from a handful of times you were paired with her for missions, you got the gist that she was a fun person.
Glancing at your bandaged arm―an aftermath from your mission earlier, you casually shrugged and remarked, "Oh, this? It's just a scratch, nothing serious."
"Really, Fushiguro should take better care of you," she grumbled. "Why is he still letting his wife taking missions? If I were him, I'd forbid you from this line of work altogether."
Thump!
Your heart squeezed at the mention of Megumi's name, realizing that no one here knew your recent unfortunate circumstances yet. Megumi hadn't told anyone―he was not the type to, to be exact.
"How is he? Is he doing okay?" you looked down, deliberately not meeting Nobara's eyes, because you weren't sure if you would be able to keep this "I'm fine" facade if you look at her in the face while talking about Megumi.
"Hmm? In missions, you mean? Yeah, as always," she blurted nonchalantly. "He's skillful. His talent is enough to bail him out of anything."
Talent. Ha. Now you understand a fraction of what Megumi must have felt, being reduced to just his gift from the so-called Zen'in bloodline.
You let out a sigh, blinking the mist in your eyes away. "Does he get hurt often?"
"Bah. Getting hurt is nothing new. If you ask me, I think he and Itadori just love to race each other to rack up the most bruises, actually."
A frown etched itself across your forehead. "That's not good..."
"Boys will be boys, I suppose. Don't worry too much!" Nobara said with a light chuckle. "I hate to admit it, but Fushiguro knows how to take care of himself far better than anyone here does. You have nothing to worry about."
That gave you some relief. He was fine. And he will be.
"Nobara-san, please keep an eye out for him, yeah?" you muttered with a repressed smile. Keeping tears at bay was tough, but you were determined to stay cool. "I can't always be around for him. He may not seem like it, but someone has to watch over him so he won't overdo himself."
Nobara blinked, obviously taken aback by your simple, heartfelt plea, but she quickly collected herself and barked a laugh. "Leave it to me, Sena-san! I know how to keep those troublemakers by the leash!"
With everything taken care of, you parted ways. Just before heading back to Megumi's apartment―really, one of these days, you were going to move out too because how could you still hog his place?―you found a mail on your desk. A brown, neat envelope.
Driven by curiosity, you swiftly tore it open, only to feel your heart sink to the lowest abyss as you read heading of the pristine paper.
Notice of Divorce by Agreement.
Suddenly, your vision blurred, and you grasped onto the desk, causing the papers to scatter to the floor. A choked whimper escaped your lips, and then it turned into a fit of sobs.
Of course. Of course. Why didn't you expect this? Both of you had to come to a resolution eventually. You couldn't be in a stalemate with Megumi forever―not quite willing to end the marriage but also not entirely wanting to continue it.
And this is how it ends.
A part of you died when you scanned Megumi's formal name and signature, as well as the witness―Kurusu Hana. For fuck's sake. Who was that again? How did the witness to your divorce be someone you never knew?
Suddenly you felt anger coursing through your veins. How was this your life? You never wanted to be embroiled in this shit in the first place. You never wanted to be born in Hara clan in the first place. You never wanted to drag a stranger to your mess in the first place.
And yet you did. And yet you lost everything all the same. You poor mother, how was it fair that she had to pay the price first and now, you too?
...okay, who were you kidding? You had to pay the price because you instigated everything. But still, you couldn't help the pain tearing your chest, the fervent hope that Megumi might understand, the longing that he wouldn't abandon you just like that. Because if the positions were reversed, you would definitely hear him out first.
Alas, fate just didn't favor you. When did it ever, really?
. . .
Oh, the curse breaker.
You finally remembered, right after you furiously scrawled your name and signature on that scrap of paper.
"I'm just saying, if you're going to make her even more miserable, then you should just get a divorce."
It was what Gojo Satoru told him when he somehow got a hold of him and forced his way inside his hostel yesterday.
In a daze, Megumi managed to get hold of the divorce papers and left them on your desk. He knew it wasn't the best move—just as forging someone else's signature wasn't either. But his conversation with Gojo had stirred up a storm of emotions, especially a sense of righteous anger.
"How could you, Gojo-sensei?" he demanded as soon as his mentor stepped into his space, feeling a surge of betrayal coursing through his veins. "What more do you want from me? Is toying with me not enough for you?"
"Megumi," the Six Eyes user began, and unlike all other instances in which he was trying to be funny, now he looked as serious as he could be. "First of all, I apologize for—"
"That means nothing," he bitterly spat. "You have scarred me for life. You and Sena both."
Gojo let out a resigned sigh. "Fair point, but now that we have come to this, you deserve the truth."
And then Megumi heard it all. About how you had no one to turn to, how you came to him to stage everything, how he agreed, and how you dragged Zen'in Ogi into your plans too.
By the end of it all, he was furious. Even more than before.
"You... absolute bastard," Megumi hissed through gritted teeth, glaring squarely at Gojo.
"Yeah, I might be, but you know what, Megumi?" Gojo dauntingly challenged, his eyes gleaming and unwavering with intensity. "For the record, I really thought you could do it."
"Do what?" At this point, he just wanted to rage and not think of anything else, because for the life of him, he couldn't fathom what Gojo Satoru might expect from him or what he himself was capable of doing.
"Taking the Zen'ins to your hands. You have the capability to do so. And with Sena too, she knows what she is doing."
"Is—" Megumi couldn't believe it one bit, the very shit coming from his mouth just now. "Is that kind of reasoning supposed to make me able to forgive you? If you really think so, then get the fuck off!"
He hated it. He hated how he made it sound as if you were just as complicit in this as he was. Even when that was the truth.
"No. Your anger is justified," Gojo stated sharply. "But if you look at it differently, it's actually my acknowledgement of you. Of your strength. All the terrible things you've faced, they hold significance, and reclaiming what's yours from the Zen'in would be the ultimate embodiment of it."
"Don't patronize me! You don't get to fucking choose what I should do! And what's more—I don't need your fucking acknowledgement!"
How arrogant could someone possibly be? Megumi recognized Gojo Satoru as an unparalleled individual, but who did he think he was that he could play with another's fates? A god?
"You may take it however way you wish," Gojo blurted indifferently, seemingly having enough of this too, as he also knew better than anyone that changing Megumi's mind would be a tall order. "And now, what happens?" he scoffed, changing the subject, throwing a glance at the shabby room of his current place to stay. "What do you plant to do now? What about Sena?"
"That's not your business whatsoever—"
"I'm just saying, if you're going to make her even more miserable, then you should just get a divorce."
That was what drove him to do just that. First, the very mention that you might be miserable did something to him, and then second, the feeling of utter betrayal. Maybe cutting you off would make all of this better, somehow.
But now, as Megumi sank on his uncomfortable bed in this cramped space, he had the time to think over Gojo's words in a calmer state of mind. True, what you did was beyond appalling—but it wasn't as if you truly wanted to manipulate him either. You weren't in an ideal situation either, and now, you were just as miserable as he was.
How are you? Have you been eating well? You tend to skip meals when you're upset, and that could take a toll on your health. It reminded him of the time you went on an eating strike before.
"Haah," he grounded out, pulling an arm over his eyes, willing his headache away. How was it that even though you had betrayed him this bad, he was still worried about you?
Two weeks later
October 31
Zen'in estate
It is only a matter of time, really.
Naoya could scarcely believe that it had come to this. How his home had shattered in the most grotesque way possible. Brought by his own hands, no less.
But Ogi should have expected it when he insisted on that Fushiguro bastard to keep being in the next line of succession. He should have known that Naoya, the true heir, would have his head.
He had left his daughter with a pretty sound message too. For whoever in his accursed clan still wanted to defy his claim, they were welcome to do so... but only if they were ready to face him and settle it in blood.
As he dawdled inside the barrier that had been pulled down for his supposed duel with Fushiguro Megumi, Naoya mused to himself.
What was taking him so long?
(It just didn't register in his deluded mind that Megumi might have deserted him altogether. He thought everyone and anyone, without a doubt, coveted the position like he was)
Still grumbling to himself, Naoya suddenly noticed a silhouette slipping through the dark curtain, which promptly sealed shut. The curtain was specifically designed for this deadly showdown—it wouldn't dissolve until only one victor remained standing.
Naoya barked a scoff, whirling to face his fated match. "You surely took your sweet time—"
But then his eyes widened as he recognized who stood before him, and then he doubled over in maniacal laughter.
"Hah—ah—what sort of joke is this?" he managed to utter between wheezes, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? Have you completely lost it?!"
A level-headed gaze met his, and Naoya was convinced, this was indeed his day to win.
"Hara Sena— do you really wish to die?!"
✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter eleven : transcendent truth
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Dinner & Diatribes
Series: Think I Need Someone Older
Word Count: 4,840
Rating: E
Characters: Dracule Mihawk, Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut. Pure smut. Mihawk is on his knees for you and he is hungry.
Tags: Smut, cunnilingus, eating out, squirting, fingering, Mihawk being a tease, cannibalism as an allegory for love and/or sex
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
The island was larger than you had initially thought. With how Dracule had explained it, the picture you’d painted in your mind was something more akin to Windmill Village. But this- oh, this towering city floating in the middle of the sea was everything and more. Canals that traced through each level, making essential roads that yagura-led -gondolas wound through. Water 7, the legendary floating city full of shipwrights, pirates, and civilians alike. One of the very few places without a strong Marine presence- a relief for you.
The two of you had met a few years prior. One thing led to another, which led to a room in an inn, which led to you sobbing and begging for him to not stop. Now, anytime the two of you having been in the same place at the same time, hitching a ride hadn’t been much of an issue. A break from your own crew for a “date night” as your First Mate had put it, much to your annoyance.
“Here,” Dracule murmured, reaching a hand down to grasp your own, helping you step down onto the dock. The sound of laughter and yelling drew your attention away, gaze trailing over the shipwrights and dock yards. You’d heard stories of Water 7, but had never found a reason to seek out the aid of the legendary builders. Yet here you were; as he led you away from the ship, you found yourself distracted by the large galleons that were being built, repaired, or setting sail on their maiden voyages.
“This is… Wow,” you breathed out a laugh, shaking your head at the craftsmanship. “Now that I’m here, I can only picture what’s wrong with my own ship,” not necessarily a joke, though your tone made it sound as such. Dracule hummed as he dropped your hand, his own gaze sharp.
A target on the back- one for each of you separately, and a much larger one for you two to be spotted together. But who would dare encroach upon Dracule Mihawk? Haughty swordsmen who thought themselves better than the Greatest, that was who. Luckily, it seemed that reputation did matter in Water 7, as the two of you were given a large berth. “I’ve business I need to attend to before our dinner,” his voice drew you from your thoughts; you glanced up, meeting the keen golden eyes of your not so secret lover. “The hotel I’ve booked is two tiers up. Take the yagura to this address,” always demanding, he placed a slip of paper into your grasp. “I’ll be there soon.”
“What, no time to stroll along with me?” You teased, stepping closer. He tensed, but didn’t push you away- no, rather, he drew you even closer with a hand upon your waist, pulling you flush to his own form.
“If I remained with you, I would get nothing done.” He leaned down, lips brushing against your own in a ghost of a kiss. “And I would much rather save that for after our dinner.” A nip of his teeth against your lip had you gasping before he pulled away, adjusting his hat. He turned sharply on his heel and ducked down an alleyway- and within moments, you lost sight of him.
Not even a goodbye.
With a sigh, you turned to flag down a yagura to ride on. While you wanted to spend time exploring the city- the knowledge of what this night could bring was sitting at the forefront of your mind, making you adjust your skirt to cross your thighs a touch tighter. Even so, you did enjoy the sights you were able to see: a grand water fountain, plenty of storefronts that looked promising, restaurants that you were certain were above your normal indulgence range.
It wasn’t long before the yagura- a sweet thing that had more spots than you’d ever seen on one- pulled up to the front of a large hotel. Nearly four floors tall, you felt your heart stop as you looked at the people coming and going from it. You were almost- no, you WERE certain- some of these people were famous. With their clothing, the way they had their own security detail- oh, Mihawk, what did you do? You stepped from the yagura onto the sidewalk and reached over to offer it a gentle pet on the snout before turning towards the front. The door was covered with a black awning- and had a red carpet leading beyond golden doors. The outside architecture was elegant- older, speaking back to a time before you had been born, but beautifully attended to.
You felt under dressed. Clenching your jaw, you made your way inside, ignoring the sideways glances sent your way as you approached the front desk. “I have a room.” You stated with confidence, chin raised, gaze level with the man behind the desk.
“Name?”
“It should be beneath Mihawk.”
“You-… You are his guest, I presume?” Stumbling over his words for a moment, the concierge leaned down to procure a golden key with the room number etched onto the body. “You will be staying on the top floor. The Garnet Suite.” He rushed to explain, gesturing to someone behind you to take your bag from your shoulder. “Please- let us know if there is anything- anything- you desire.”
“Thank you.” You glanced to the bellhop curiously- a petite woman whose eyes were wide in awe as she followed you to the elevator. “How long have you worked here?” You asked as she rang the elevator.
“Only a few months,” she answered quietly, her cheeks rosy. “Sure must be important to be… His guest.”
“You think so?” You teased, watching the way her mouth opened and closed a few times before she bobbed her head quickly, dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. “I think you’re right. I mean- if you can keep a secret?”
“I can!”
“He isn’t the only one with a large bounty on his head.” You winked as you stepped into the elevator. She followed after with an expression reading of awe. It took her a moment to close the door and to select the floor- but that was alright. “You aren’t used to pirates, yet?”
“No, ma’am. I’m still… This is all new to me. I’m not even from here! I just- I wanted to see more of the world, and Water 7 is the social hub!”
“Where are you from?”
“The North Blue, ma’am.”
“You certainly are a long way from home, then!” You couldn’t help but smile fondly; she was sweet, this bellhop. She still had a lot to learn, certainly, but she would do well. “What’s your name?”
“Liliana, ma’am.”
“Well, Liliana- I think I can handle it from here. But thank you for helping me,” you opened the coin purse that hung from your hip, fishing out a few berries that had her eyes widening even further, if that were possible. “For your trouble.”
“Oh, thank you!” Her grin was bright as you stepped out into the hall. “Thank you very much!” She reached out to grasp the door, shutting it once more. Turning, you made your way to the room; plaques hung beside each door with the name of the room.
Ruby, spinel, jasper… Ah, garnet. They must separate floors by the colors of gemstones, you thought to yourself as you unlocked the door. Stepping in, you had to pause to take in the sight. It was breathtaking; a large balcony separated by twin glass doors, covered with semi-sheer, off-white curtains. The bed was a four poster with black sheets; golden detailing was etched into the wood, but that wasn’t even the show stopper. No, it was the rest of the room. The walls were painted a rich garnet tone with ivory pillars set into the walls with decorative filigree carved into both stone and wood. As your head turned, you realized with a flush that it was one large room- the claw foot tub sat across from the bed, a shower tucked into the corner. Twin sinks were posed on either side, though a large mirror ran across the length, framed by gold.
How much had Dracule paid for this room alone? You were almost afraid to ask.
Closing the door behind yourself, the lock clicked into place. You set your bag down at the foot of the bed and crossed over to the large mahogany wardrobe, opening it, only to find that no, it wasn’t empty. A garment bag hung with a note scrawled in Mihawk’s hasty handwriting:
“Wear this for dinner.”
Curiosity piqued, you unzipped the bag and slipped the cloth off to reveal a stunning gown of ruby, silken in it’s make. Your size, you noted; draped collar with thin straps, the back plunging and crisscrossed with thin straps you knew were only there for decoration. A slit clear to what would be mid-thigh, too-
“Sweet Aphrodite, Mihawk.” You hissed, shaking your head as you turned away. Now it made sense, why he’d asked you to bring heels. Well, in the meantime- freshening up would be nice. You strolled over to the bath, fingers trailing along the ivory lip of the tub. This close to the mirror, you noticed that it gave a perfect view of the bed. Your lips curled in a mischievous smirk as you turned the tab on the tub. A glance to the left to the windows that offered a lovely view of the sky. No one could see in.
Perfect.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Someone had come to retrieve you- one of the waitstaff for the hotel. You’d had enough time to bathe, apply makeup, and dress before the man had arrived. The dress was, indeed, your size- clinging to your form in a way that could almost be considered sinful. The ruby tone caught the light regardless of which way you turned. You’d paired your lips with the dress, the red stark against your skin. As you entered the restaurant attached to the hotel, you felt eyes turn to take you in.
In that moment, you felt like the most important woman in the world. Your lips curved into a slow smile as you spotted your date, who was slowly rising to his feet. He’d forgone his normal wardrobe, though Yoru was leaning against the wall behind him. His own suit was black, tailored to fit him. “This was a pleasant surprise,” you greeted as he reached out, taking your hand in his.
He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your cheek. “You look delicious,” he murmured in your ear before pulling back to pull your chair out for you. A shudder threatened to dance across your skin as you settled down into the chair. Somewhere in the restaurant, a piano played live. “I hope the room met your expectations.”
“Met and exceeded,” you replied with a shake of your head. “This was too much- all of this-”
“Nonsense.” He waved a hand through the air as if to dispel your words. “For you? It’s worth it. I hope you don’t mind, I ordered wine for the table.”
“Perfect.” A vintage red, perfect to pair with dinner. As you glanced over the menu, you tried to ignore the prices listed. Expensive tastes; of course he’d have expensive taste. “You seem familiar with the island. How often have you visited?”
“A few times.” The dismissive tone had you rolling your eyes as the waiter approached. You gave your order- a pasta dish with white sauce paired with a side salad. Mihawk ordered a steak- medium rare, some sort of a pasta dish you weren’t familiar with, and informed the man that the desert would be to-go. You raised your brow at that, head tilting to study him. “To go?”
“Mhm.” He hummed as he sipped on his wine, gaze trailing along your bare arms, settling on your collarbones for a moment. He was right; the dress had been the perfect choice for you. “I don’t intend to linger here longer than necessary.” The hotel was perfect, one he was more than familiar with. He only hoped it was up to your expectations. “Why?”
“Just curious.” Your gaze slipped away, cheeks flushing under the intense stare. Your legs crossed under the table, thighs pressing closer to offer some relief to the pressure you felt beginning to build. “Did you finish whatever business you had?”
He nodded before settling his chin upon his palm. The hat was still on his head, hiding his features from most everyone at the restaurant- aside from yourself. “I did. Some repairs that I required to be finished tonight before we left in the morning.”
“A shame we have to leave so soon. This truly is a beautiful city…” You sighed, lip jutting out in a pout.
Across from you, Mihawk chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve business to attend to after we finish here, you know that.”
“Some big meeting with the World Government, I’m aware. Tell me, what is so pressing?” No news had broken yet, but there were tensions that had certainly gotten the seas astir. “Or is that some secret you’d have to kill me for?”
“You know the answer to that, darling.” Mihawk purred, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk curving the corners of his lips upwards. He watched you squirm in your seat, affected by the threat and the rumble of his tone. Your fingers drummed upon the top of the table, a telltale giveaway of how much you were anticipating the events that would follow this dinner, much to his delight. “How did you like the room?”
“Oh!” Your attention returned fully, gaze sparkling as you gestured vaguely. “It’s stunning! The latticework was so intricate- and the filigree? Oh, Dracule, you outdid yourself this time. And don’t get me started on the way the room is set up? That four poster is simply to die for! And the bathtub? It was big enough that I couldn’t touch the other end- a perfect soaking tub.”
“So you enjoyed it?”
“Oh, certainly. The balcony is a fun touch. I had the doors open while I bathed to get that warm sea breeze…” You trailed off, worrying your lip for a moment before releasing it. “The mirror is interesting. Such a perfect angle for the bed…”
“So you noticed.”
“That hotel used to be a brothel, didn’t it?”
“Perhaps, once, many years ago. It no longer serves that purpose.”
“Tell me, Dracule- am I just a high priced whore to warm your bed?” You teased, foot settling on the inside of his calf. Slowly, you drug it up the inside of his leg, watching the way he tensed, the way his gaze darkened. “Someone who can take care of you? Take away all of those stressors-”
“The highest.” He interrupted, sitting up straighter as his gaze shifted to over your shoulder. Food. You smile as your plates are sat before you. “Thank you,” Mihawk dismissed the waiter with less than a glance.
You could have sworn you heard the boy mutter “prick” under his breath.
Conversation lapsed into silence as you ate. You had to hand it to the chef, he certainly knew what he was doing with his pasta. But your mind wasn’t on the pasta- it was on the way Dracule kept looking at you, as if you were the meat on his plate that he was devouring, rather than the steak that was rare enough it still bled, making its own gravy. How long had it been since the two of you had any time alone? Weeks, at this point. Between your own crew, your own plundering, and Mihawk’s schedule, finding any time to be alone had been difficult- until now.
A bag was presented along with the check as your plates were cleared away. “What did you order?” You whispered as he came around, pulling your seat out for you. You had a bit of a sweet tooth, something he was well aware of.
“Something sweet.” He replied as he left payment on the table before settling Yoru on his back once more. Once settled, he took hold of the bag in one hand while his other settled on the small of your back, leading you through the winding tables. Couples of all ages paused in conversation as you passed, shock and awe spread across their expressions.
You couldn’t help the rush of pride that swept through you. Yes, that’s right- Mihawk was yours. He was the one at your back. His hand was the one settled just above the curve of your ass. The one who had rented the hotel room, the one who had paid for your dinner, who had brought you here for time away from your crew- time alone with him.
You were his- and he, equally yours.
Crossing the lobby to the elevators, you shifted, moving his hand from your back to twine your fingers together. A soft hum pulled free from him at the movement, though you paid it no mind. He didn’t care, really- as long as he could touch you, that’s all that mattered to Mihawk. His hand gave yours a gentle squeeze as the bellhop opened the door for the elevator. A man this time, you noted as you two stepped in- and he stepped out quickly, face paling dramatically in a way that had you laughing.
Mihawk looked almost amused as he pulled the gate closed.
Alone, his hand pulled free to reach up, settling at the base of your neck, just above your spine. A gentle squeeze had your eyes falling closed, breath stuttering. “I believe I’m still hungry,” Mihawk sighed, tutting softly. “I suppose I’ll need to have my desert sooner rather than later.”
“Is that so?” You breathed out, features flushing as you reached your floor. You opened the gate quickly, stepping out ahead of Mihawk- who still had his hand on your neck, not allowing you to turn. Leading, guiding you to your room. “And here I was, thinking I had the sweet tooth.” You taunted, pulling the key free from your garter to unlock the door. An old habit- normally, a knife would have been there.
A gentle shove in had you stumbling forward. Mihawk kicked the door closed, already setting Yoru aside with great care. “Do you have any idea how delectable you are in that dress?” He murmured, turning as he clicked the lock into place. Your breath caught in your throat as he removed his hat, hanging it on the door handle- a habit you learned was to know if anyone tried to jimmy the lock to break in. “How I was tempted to cut dinner short just to rush you back up here? To feel the way your skin had warmed the silk.”
“No, I- I hadn’t realized you were affected that much.” He had a remarkable poker face, really. You stepped closer, meeting him halfway as his hands settled on your hips, tugging you closer. His fingers rucked up the fabric with how he gripped you in that moment. It was exhilarating as you reached up, cupping his cheeks as he studied you. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”
And so, he did.
Lifting you up with ease, hands gripping your thighs as he carried you to the bed. A squeal had escaped you at the sudden movement, though you couldn’t help the laughter that followed as he tossed you down. It was rare that Dracule became playful, but oh, how you relished it. The way he crawled over you, trapping you beneath his body- and within his kisses. Full of passion, you reached up to tangle a hand in his hair. One leg rose, hooking around his hips, tugging him down against yourself.
He hadn’t been the only one affected, after all.
“I could devour you,” Mihawk sighed into the kiss, trailing more down your jaw, to your throat, where he busied himself with making sure the world knew who you belonged to by leaving bruise after bruise. When he reached the juncture of neck and shoulder, he paused, teeth scraping the sensitive skin before biting down. A surprised yell escaped you, prompting you to tug on his hair. “May I?” He breathed against your skin, soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. “May I devour you? My dessert?”
“Mihawk,” you were panting already, heart hammering within your chest. His pupils were blown with lust, you noted; no doubt your own were the same. “Gods above, please. Please- I need you. I need you so badly, I ache for you.” You whined, shifting your hips as he sat up on his knees, tugging off the tie he wore, followed by the dress shirt- all but ripping it to remove it, tossing the ruined fabric aside.
He moved back off the bed, only to kneel at the end. You reached back, grabbing hold of the pillows to make things more comfortable for yourself- and for you, too. You tossed one down for him to kneel on, drawing a genuine smile from him as he shook his head. You placed a pillow behind your head, and one under yourself to raise your hips up. A better angle, you’d learned.
Carefully, he removed your heels, taking a moment to massage one foot, then the other. An appreciative hum pulled free from you as you settled back against the bed, eyes falling closed to enjoy the feeling of calloused hands smoothing across the smooth skin of your legs. A kiss was pressed to your right ankle, a nip at your calf that had your leg tensing momentarily. His hand settled behind your knee, prompting you to bend it, to settle it over his shoulder. And then- a gasp was ripped free at the feeling of his tongue laving a slow trail along the inside of your thigh. You sighed, eyes opening to study the ceiling, expecting for him to dive in-
Only to receive a bite on your left thigh. Your leg tensed once more before a surprised sound escaped as his tongue- his damned tongue- pressed against your core through your underwear. “Mihawk,” you whispered, hands fisting the lavish duvet beneath you.
“You’ve already soaked through your panties,” he taunted, turning his head to kiss at the juncture of your leg and pelvis. “What were you thinking about?” He mused as his fingers crept forward. Something clinked- you didn’t register what it was until cool metal pressed against the skin of your thigh. The Kogatana, you realized. “Was it this?”
“If you rip this pair, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll buy you five of the same.”
“… That’s a good deal.” The sound of fabric ripping, of the flat of the blade pressing against your skin had goosebumps breaking out. He tugged your underwear off and away, the ruined fabric joining its predecessor- his shirt- on the ground somewhere. You’d find them later, it wasn’t important right now. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as he carefully slid the Kogatana back into its sheath before removing it entirely from his neck. He looked up, meeting your gaze as he guided your thighs to settle back upon his shoulders. With a tug, he had you laying back once more with a breathless laugh that morphed into a moan as his tongue licked a slow path along your core.
Once.
Twice.
Three times before his thumbs settled on your lips, spreading you for him. “It’s almost like the nectar of the Gods,” he murmured against you, tongue laving against you from entrance to clit in firm, broad, warm strokes that had you gasping for air quicker than you thought possible. “I could get drunk off the taste.”
“Dracule,” you whined, a hand coming to settle in inky tresses, tugging none to softly, drawing a growl out from your lover.
In retaliation, he turned his head and nipped at your thigh, though it only drew a startled moan free. He returned to his goal, licking like a man starved, as if he truly did intend on eating you. His lips settled around your clit, creating a momentary vacuum that had your toes curling and your back arching. He hummed around you, tongue flicking over your clit quickly, mercilessly. Where he’d learned how to pleasure someone like this, you would never know. But by the Gods, you were melting against his mouth. “Oh, sweet Aphrodite,” you whimpered, hips shifting to grind against him, craving more stimulation. You needed, wanted, craved more.
“Greedy girl,” Mihawk growled, pulling back from your pussy to settle an arm over your hips, holding you down in place. “You’ll take what I give you, when I decide to give it. None of this nonsense.”
“Oh, you fucker,” you huffed, but try as you might, you could never move his arm. As you looked down at him, you caught a glimpse of yourself in that damned mirror, giving you pause. The dress was rucked up around your hips, your skin flushed in the soft light that spilled through the doors. And Mihawk was kneeling between your thighs- oh, you could watch him. You could watch the way his head bobbed with each pass of his tongue, the way his other hand was between his thighs, moving quickly-
Touching himself.
The knowledge sent a shudder through your body. “Good girl,” he murmured against your core, voice ragged. How close was he? Too close- he turned his full attention back to you, his now-free hand settling on your thigh. “So fucking wet, all for me.”
“You’re- oh, fuck- vocal tonight, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, one of his fingers slid in smoothly, clear down to the knuckle, drawing a loud moan from you in retaliation. Slowly, he pumped, crooking his finger on the draw out to brush against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars- only from one damned finger. “Should see yourself,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Greedy, greedy girl- already weeping around my finger. Do you need another one?”
“Please!” You cried out as he withdrew his fingers, only to replace one with two. The stretch was delicious; you thought you could handle three, but couldn’t find your voice- not with how he started fucking you in ernest, not with the way he focused his talented mouth solely on your clit suddenly. “Oh- oh, there, there, there!” You cried, tossing your head back against the bed.
Good, he thought to himself. If he played his cards right… Crooking his fingers, he pressed upwards, grinding his fingers in, deeper than you could ever manage by yourself. Tongue rolling against your clit in hard passes that had your thighs tensing each time, you felt that familiar ball of tension begin to form quickly. “Can feel you getting tighter,” he taunted, letting his tongue hang out as he lavished your clit in attention.
“Mi-Mihawk, oh fuck. Oh- oh my god, your fingers!” You whined, reaching up to palm at your chest, tugging on your nipples before raising it higher to settle around your own throat. “I’m close, so close, please-”
“That’s my good girl. Come for me,” he rasped, watching the way you rolled your hips as best you could, as your stomach tensed. It was like watching a living piece of art, the way your orgasm washed over you. How your jaw dropped open, how your cries spilled free as your release spilled over his fingers, onto the floor below. “That’s my good girl.” The praise fell upon deaf ears, your heartbeat racing within your ears. You shuddered as you began to come down, the feeling of his fingers still gently thrusting almost too much for you. Weakly, you reached down to push at his shoulder, the telltale sign. He sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss against your oversensitive clit as he withdrew his fingers.
“Gods, Mihawk,” you shook your head, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, trying to calm yourself as he rose to his feet. He used the shirt he’d ruined to clean his arm up before tossing it over the small mess made on the floor. At least it didn’t hit the pillow, he thought as he grabbed it to set at the head of the bed.
“Oh, I hope I didn’t tire you out,” he murmured as he rounded the side of the bed, leaning over to draw you into a slow kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, on the brush of his tongue against your lips, against your own. His chin was drenched in you- in your essence. You rolled over, rising to your knees to reach him properly, dragging him closer, chest to chest. “Why’s that?” You breathed into the kiss, pulling back just enough to study your lover. His hands reached up, brushing your hair back from your face, his lips curving into a grin full of mischief. “Because, darling, I want seconds. I haven’t had my fill yet.”
#one piece#dracule mihawk smut#dracule mihawk x reader#one piece x reader#one piece smut#think I need someone older series#feel like I need to go to church tomorrow for this jfc [ is pagan ]#next up: Shanks#and boy are y'all gonna love that one#unholy scripture [ n s f w ]#x reader#kanon's writings
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So. I finished watching hazbin hotel
Radioapple was instantly my favourite 🍎🎙️😔
bottom right scene inspired by @fanby-fckry 's fic Bloodlust and Butterflies !
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#lucifer x alastor#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#sketch#obsessed with the Unholy Trinity series!! binged it all at once at night#worth it#appleradio
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Vol.2 of mashing all my bbgs into one post
After a “long” while of my last post I decided to finally get around to putting peoples requests and recommendations of their fav priests into the format. Keep in mind I don’t know who most of these characters are and I mainly put them in here because they were requested and matched up to the descriptions. Id be lying if I said it wasn’t impossible to squeeze them all into one thing. Thank you all for showing off your deranged priest bbgs!
#unicorn wars padre#padre#faith the unholy trinity john#faith the unholy trinity#father garcia#wendell & wild#father bests#twd#the walking dead#father gabriel#hellsing#alexander anderson#barnabus tharmr#final fantasy series#damsels#dominic cooper#Jerome Jeffries#far cry 5#Timothy Howard#american horror story#joshua graham#fallout#hyness#kirby series#amalthus#xenoblade#xenoblade chronicles#enrico pucci#jojo's bizarre adventure
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mortis.
#faith game#faith the unholy trinity#indie games#john ward#faith#am does art#procreate#loved this indie game series and tried to do a fanart in its style
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JamesSu full cover of Unholy
#obsessed with the fact that he wears a rosary as a choker while singing Unholy 🔥💀🔥💀🔥#james supamongkon#netjames#bed friend the series#middleman's love#dmdland 2 concert#James singing#James dancing
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Thinking about sassy camboy!Sonic and his overeager simp-y fan North who squeals a little everytime Sonic starts a stream and spends a majority of his money just to hear the boy speak his name and thank him. (he's a broke college student di but like he has a lot of money to spare). And Sonic who has fans gifting him more but still has a like soft spot for this one viewer who never misses a stream and asks about his day in the comment section.
Or camboy!Babe who's known for his pretty, pretty face and tendency to ban ppl, even long term fans, off his stream acc to his whims with hid rich little sadboy fan Charlie who's there in his every stream. Babe thinks he's cringe af, but the money's good so he tolerates (or so he says) Charlie in his stream comments!
Or camboy!Kim and Kenta who drops tons of money in every stream but never speaks a word. Kim's intrigued by this mysterious viewer-
Abd between AlanJeff, Alan would 100% be the camboy, because it's hilarious to have a technologically challenged newbie streamer who's so clueless that his younger viewer aka Jeff will have to show him the ropes lmao
#pit babe the series#pit babe fanfic#charliebabe#babecharlie#kentakim#kimkenta#alanjeff#idk what this is it just popped on my mind at an unholy hour in the morning and i just had to write it down before it vanished away#so yeah have my incoherent ramblings u.u
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New eyes—Javier Peña x f!reader
Chapter 1 of the Unholy series
summary: the new colleague Javier & Steve are supposed to show around is the last person on earth Javier would want to see.
word count: 1.9k
A/N: many thanks to @pedropascalsx for basically inspiring me to write this Lay it on me 2.0 as I like to call it. Hope you enjoy the ride!
gif: @azertyrobaz
series masterlist | AO3
“I hate this.”
“You already said that.”
“Well, I really do. I really, really do.”
“You already said that, too. Stop being a big baby.”
Javier throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time that afternoon alone. There’s nothing Steve can say that would soothe him, nor does his colleague wish to fix things.
Ever since ambassador Noonan asked them to show around a new colleague, Javier had been in a grumpier mood than usual. He believed that all of their time and resources should be spent on catching Escobar and his cartel, not acting as guides around the embassy. He’s made no efforts in hiding his displeasure, going as far as asking Noonan to remove him from this task.
“Not a chance, Peña,” she told him with a firm tone.
“Why not let Murphy take this one? Why do you need me in on this?”
“Because you two are some of our finest DEA agents, and your new colleague needs to see professionalism. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And that was it. No room for arguments or more complaints. Javier embraced the idea, though he still hated it.
“Don’t act like you’re better than showing some new guy around,” Steve tells him.
“I just think we could be spending our time looking for Escobar or his men instead of playing tourists with a newbie.”
“Come on, it won’t be that bad. We just gotta show him around a little, update him on the Escobar case and that’s pretty much it.”
“You left out the part where Noonan asked us to basically babysit this newbie.”
This time, Steve is the one who rolls his eyes upon noticing his partner’s stubbornness.
“All she said was to mentor him in his first few days.”
“Babysitting.”
“Just shut up already, it’s not a big deal.”
Javier crosses his arms and leans against the desk, eyes set on the embassy’s far entrance. Even he realizes he’s complaining loud and proud, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s really in no mood to show some overly-enthusiastic, fresh out of the Academy boy how things are done. But what else can he do, especially since Noonan gave him no choice?
He just has to suck it up and get through the day.
It’s easier said than done, though; he checks his watch once every two, three minutes, hoping, nearly praying that nine o’clock arrives faster. He keeps staring at the entrance, waiting for the figure of some 22 year old boy with too many life goals to be crushed already.
It’s only when Steve taps him on his shoulder as he’s busy checking his watch yet again that Javier nearly tastes bile in his mouth when he swallows.
His pupils are blown out, his lungs pump an unusual amount of air and he nearly chokes on nothing. He can’t believe it. This is no boy—this is a woman, in all of its beauty and meanness alike. A woman he hadn’t seen since he was a young boy attending the Texas College of Arts and Industries—Texas AI, as many alumni referred to it—and one he hadn’t thought he’d see, certainly not under these circumstances, and certainly not in Colombia, of all places.
He doesn’t move a single muscle. He can’t—all he can do is stare as Steve goes to welcome said woman.
Time has been very kind to you: you definitely look more mature and well-traveled through life. There are many contradicting feelings going around in Javier’s mind, from reminiscing all the competitiveness between you and him, to instant attraction.
Attraction he loathes from the moment it starts consuming his whole being.
“Welcome aboard,” he hears Steve greet you, then he sees him shake your hand. “I’m Steve Murphy, one of your—ah, what the hell, let’s say guides.”
Javier hears you chuckle, a sound so crystal clear, so calming and playful, it messes with his head completely. That is not how he knows you, and that ruins him even more.
“And this—”
Steve takes a few wide steps to reach Javier, pulling him in by the arm and thus pushing him face to face with you. While his facial expression drops, yours brightens up into a cocky smile.
“This is— “
“Well I’ll be damned,” you say. “Javier Peña in the flesh. Oh, what a treat this is!”
Steve frowns. “How do you guys know each other?”
You open your mouth to reply, and so does Javier, but Steve’s frown deepens as the wheels in his mind start spinning.
“Don’t tell me you slept with her!” he exclaims and slaps Javier’s arm.
His partner throws him a deadly glare, one that cut easily cut through him.
“God no,” Javier mutters, avoiding your eyes.
“Yeah, there’s not enough money in the world,” you smile and purposely stare him down.
“So then, how do you guys know each other?”
When Javier falters, you take it upon yourself to clarify the situation. This brings you immense delight, much more than you would’ve thought.
Turns out your first day on the job is shaping up way better than you would’ve anticipated.
“We went to college together,” you say. “We weren’t… the best of friends.”
Javier scoffs mockingly. “We were very competitive with each other.”
“Academic rivals, if you will.”
Steve makes a face. “Never thought I’d hear about Javi fighting to have higher grades, and with a woman, no less.”
That particular piece of information catches your attention.
“Why with a woman in particular?” you ask, a cheeky smile still residing on your lips.
“Well… Javi’s known for being… an affectionate guy.”
“Cut it out, Murphy.”
“So he’s a man whore.”
Javier rolls his eyes and finally returns your stare. He sees the cockiness in your bright, intelligent eyes; he sees the venom in them, the thirst for affirmation, the competitiveness, everything from back then wrapped in a single lethal stare.
“Somehow it doesn’t surprise me,” you say.
“My personal life doesn’t concern you,” Javier replies dryly. “You’re here for work and that’s it.”
You raise your eyebrows, admittedly, pleasantly surprised.
“Fair point. Will you be parading any eligible ladies by the office, per chance?”
Javier feels his blood start to boil in his veins; he clenches his teeth, unwilling to let his competitiveness get the best of him, not on his territory. This is his territory, after all. He’s supposed to show you how things work over there, not the other way around.
“Should we get moving?” he asks Steve directly. “Lot of work to do.”
“I see you play your college cards well.”
Steve turns to you, oddly curious now. “What college cards?”
“Oh, he had plenty. Whenever we butted heads regarding our courses and I said something he had no answer for, he pretended like he didn’t hear you and changed the subject entirely to not make himself to look like a fool.”
That makes Steve chuckle loudly, much to Javier’s anger. “He does do that!” he laughs at the realization.
“I could say plenty of things back to you, princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “But I wouldn’t want to wrinkle your ego.”
You lean in towards him, your mouth unreasonably close to his own. He shudders, but he shakes it off quickly.
“Mine’s bigger than yours,” you smile.
Something roars inside Javier’s chest, something loud and big and powerful. It gets stronger as he stares you down, yet he fights his usual instincts. This is no usual woman he’d take to bed. This is his old nemesis, his academic rival and enemy in every way.
Now, an enemy in the workplace.
“Remember you said it first,” he retorts.
“So, office tour first?” Steve offers, and you nod.
Javier stays a little behind, his own thoughts drowning out every other sound.
Out of all the people available… it had to be you.
So many DEA agents capable, and you had to show up. Sure, you were undeniably gifted in the world of academics, as shown by your final GPA results, but you were absolutely obnoxious when it came to comparisons. At least that’s how you were with Javier. You two were sworn enemies from your first semester in the first year: every course you had together was motive for competition. Whoever had the biggest grade, was known to be the best. It wasn’t planned; you simply seemed to bring out that side of Javier, passionate and feisty. But never in the way might one think of nowadays.
He lets Steve guide you around, show you the offices, telling you all the details regarding the team. He watches you be introduced to Carrillo, Trujillo and eventually, ambassador Noonan herself. Through all of those interactions that you have, Javier studies you carefully. You appear like an entirely different person with everyone else. You smile brightly, professionally, revealing the same academic competence as when you were 20 years old. Yet with him, you’re feisty, arrogant, pushy, and downright unbearable to listen to. He can’t help but think the real you is the one he sees, not those surrounding you.
But he can’t dwell on it too much, nor does he care enough to do so. All he cares about is finding a way to make things tolerable at the office, now that his territory had been brutally invaded by enemies.
“I trust you’re on your best behavior, Peña.”
Noonan’s voice awakens him. He realizes they’re standing in the same spot, all looking at you as if it’s some sort of welcome party.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies absentmindedly.
She then draws attention to you again, and Javier catches a glimpse of your wide, proud smile, utterly unimpressed.
“You’re gonna be working closely with Horacio and his team. I trust you’ve met Trujillo and Ramirez, and of course, Murphy and Peña.”
“Yes, I have had the pleasure of meeting all these incredible men. Even Peña,” you smile at him directly.
His blood boils again. He swears he feels blisters forming at the surface of his skin from all that white, hot anger. It’s impossible to ignore that feeling, yet somehow he still pulls it off. He has to. Though in all honesty, he is astounded by the fact that you make no attempt in hiding your displeasure at having him around, but he doesn’t care.
He can’t. He’s never viewed as anything more but competition. Plain and simple.
“I think you’ll fit in with the team quite well,” Noonan seems to be ending some sort of welcome speech.
“Thank you very much, madam ambassador.”
Javier catches your eyes and sucks his cheeks in, making sure you know he’s just as unpleasantly surprised as you might expect him to be. He can’t let a pretty figure with shiny hair, a mouthful on her distract him from his mission. No matter how curious he might’ve once been from a physical point of view, he’s making a promise just as he keeps eye contact with you walking away with Steve: he won’t let your presence there disrupt his life in any way.
You won’t make or break him.
Not this time.
next
#Javier Peña#Javier Peña x reader#Javier Peña x you#Javier Peña fanfiction#Javier Peña fic#javier pena#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#unholy series
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Doggie brothers
(Joshua lost his notched ear when his restoration powers went into overdrive after Phoenix Gate (though I'm not sure why I'm trying to explain away a minor logic gap when I'm committing a bigger crime by having both their breeds change between puppy and adult 🤭)
#final fantasy xvi#clive rosfield#joshua rosfield#gikenka#animalification#final fantasy series#dogs#ff16#Joshua is an unholy spawn between a Maned Wolf and an Alpaca
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✩°｡ ⋆ UNHOLY MATRIMONY
fushiguro megumi x reader
⭑ — PREMISE. in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
⭑ — GENRE/WARNINGS. arranged marriage au, aged-up megumi, family drama, angst to eventual fluff, domesticity, hurt/comfort, profanity (from naoya, mostly), suggestive themes, mentions and descriptions of aggressive behavior, blood, violence, panic attack, minor character death
⭑ — STATUS. ongoing | playlist | ko-fi
prelude -> one ⋆ to be wed -> two ⋆ unholy matrimony -> three ⋆ the right husband -> four ⋆ going downhill -> five ⋆ sinner's punishment -> six ⋆ a longer dream -> seven ⋆ love unspoken -> eight ⋆ all falls down -> nine ⋆ all done -> ten ⋆ a death wish -> eleven ⋆ transcendent truth -> twelve ⋆ the most twisted curse -> thirteen ⋆ seize your happiness -> last ⋆ to the one i love
© CHULUOYI. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms
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These shots of Sand's legs should be illegal 😳👀
Hand in marriage, more like legs in marriage! PLEASE SAND SERIOUSLY SCREW RAY, YOU COME TO THE TUMBLR QUEERS AND WE WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING BABY 😍
Episode 5 gave us SO MUCH including THAT WAIST 👀
#just an unholy post about my unholy thoughts about sand's legs#ray is a goddamn fool#LOOK AT HIM!#those legs are meant to be cherished and adored and be the only legs you worship for life#HOW DIFFICULT IS IT FOR YOU TO ABANDON EVERYTHING IN ORDER TO WORSHIP SAND HUH RAY?!#sand sand sand sand#head empty no other thoughts for me lol#only friends the series#sand only friends#first kanaphan#thai bl#thai drama#asianlgbtqdramas#sandray#raysand#ofts#only friends
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all i can do is make this promise to you
that my damage could be your damage too
(can you manage the mood when the chaos ensues?)
#cannot for the life of me figure out how to center text so just pretend it is#faith the unholy trinity#faith game#amy martin#david.art#scopophobia/#kinda want to make a whole series with betamosh lyrics hmm
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Fort x Peat for Journey Magazine (The Seduction Gifset)
PEAT. PEAT. Peat is channelling the dark and moody seductive prince fantasy. And sweet baby Jesus - can this boy get ANY prettier? Is he for real? I want to frame the first gif as a piece of art in my home and stare at it forever.
#LITA#love in the air#love in the air series#LITA cast#fortpeat#fort thitipong#peat wasuthorn#babyfeat#prapaisky#paisky#the power this boy has#UNHOLY#UNGODLY#sin is the theme of this gifset
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one song per glee episode
↳ 1.02: i say a little prayer
#my art#digital art#fan art#art#glee#glee art#glee fanart#one song per ep#unholy trinity#quinn fabray#santana lopez#brittany s pierce#gleesource#long time no uht art apparently!#if we're being really honest in the tags i fully considered push it gcv instead#but i couldn't just skip over the first uht appearance#despite my semi hatred for the cheerio uniforms </3#i think i have to make peace with the fact that ill probably have to draw them a bunch for this series lol
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