Justice & Mercy

Justice & Mercy

god!jay park x virgin!reader [afab]

[the pantheon series || next]

genre: smut

concept: your life has always been quaint and simple in your little village at the foot of the hill your god's temple sits upon. when everything takes a turn for the worst, choices have to be made in a desperate attempt to save your village. sacrifices have to be made.

w/c: 7.6k

warning: god au, religious themes, religious imagery, human sacrifice, virgin sacrifice, blood, knives, fire imagery, consumption metaphors; explicit sexual content, god fucking, body worship, vaginal sex, rough sex, *unprotected sex, coming inside, oral (f. receiving)

You kick the dusty ground beneath your feet, dirt rising up into the air in a dirty, brown cloud. The ground is so dry that the grass has turned yellow, the dirt that holds it having grown so thin and dusty that a deep rainstorm might actually flood the houses and roads now. You look out towards the fields, the basket of clothing you’ve retrieved from the river bed sitting upon your hips. The crops are brown, long since having begun to die, many will not make it another day. Your village has been harvesting what they can, but the heat is too much. Even the river bed is thick with half dried mud, the water is low. The drought is worse than ever. 

You take the clothes to the house, dried from the heat of the day. The air is so thin and dry that your hair feels brittle, your home is hardly a reprieve from the warmth of the day, heat soaking in the dark wooden bones, the shutters left open to let what little breeze is around come through. Still, you duck inside, sitting down on the floor of the small sitting room to begin folding the clothes for your family. 

It’s while you’re doing this that voices float from the back of the home. You lift your head from the clothes, holding a tunic to your chest when you recognize one voice as your father’s, the other a village elder. You climb to your feet, shuffling across the stone flooring, trying to keep quiet. You lean against the wooden wall, straining your ears to listen. 

You know you shouldn’t. Your family has told you time and time again that it is not your place, you are too young, too fragile. You haven’t even married yet, your opinions are thin without the knowledge that comes from maturity, from a blooming love and burgeoning family. Still, you can’t help yourself, perhaps it is your worst trait, your intense curiosity. 

“We haven’t much time⁠—” 

“I will not discuss this with you any further,” your father cuts them off, his voice tight and tense. “I have given you my answer.” 

“Don’t be selfish,” the elder demands harshly. “Your daughter might very well save our lives. The village is dying, we haven’t seen rain in over two moons. We’re running out of time. If we don’t do something soon, the Gods will be sure that none of us survive the hot season. You would do well to give your daughter to them. They will look upon you kindly.” 

“My daughter does not belong to them, she is my daughter!” Your father argues. “If they want a child to appease them, they will take them where they stand. She is not a cow for slaughter!” Your breath catches softly, causing you to press your hand over your mouth, lest they hear you. “Find another.” 

“There are few in this village,” the elder tells him. “Most of them are too young, barely older than babes. You know this. Give her to the Gods, they will treat her well.” 

“They will devour her whole. I won’t let that happen.” The retreating sounds of your father’s footsteps reach your ears, as well as the heavy sigh of the elder. You sag against the wall, still holding the tunic to your chest. 

“May the Gods have mercy on our souls,” the elder whispers before retreating as well. 

It is cooler at night, though not much cooler. You close the shutters to the home, your mother having already gone to bed, her stomach swollen with your soon-to-be younger sibling. It is just you and your father awake now, your father stoking the fire to keep the house lit while you finish cleaning. Once the thin blankets have been folded, and the kitchen cleaned, you are able to sit down beside him. You open your mouth to speak but your father beats you to it. 

“I know you were listening. I heard you,” he says, but doesn’t turn away from the fires. You sigh softly, looking down at the floor. “You’re too curious for your own good, child, you should mind your business. You’ve not even married and you are trying to become involved in the worries of the village. That is my job.” He sets the metal poker aside, leaning it against the wall, then turns to you. “I handle the things in this family. You know this.” 

“Is it true, though?” You ask and his lips thin. “Will the village die without a sacrifice? The elders are right, it hasn’t rained in many days, over two moons now. The crops are dying and the river is low. We won’t have enough food for the cold season if it continues. If we wait⁠—” 

“I have given them my answer,” your father interrupts you. “It is the same one I will give you. You’re my daughter and I will not be handing you over to the Gods just for a little rain. We will pray and we will hope and they will bless us as long as we are faithful.” 

“A little rain?” You scoffs. “Father⁠—” 

“Your life is precious, you are my only daughter,” he tells you and you sigh. “Besides, you know not what the Gods would do with you.” 

“Whatever it is, my life is not worth that of the entire village!” You argue but he simply shakes his head at you, turning back to the fire. “If I do not go, the village might very well die anyway, and then what will become of me? It matters not, I may die regardless!” 

“Quiet,” he tells you. “Do not wake your mother.” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Should you die by way of the rest of the village, I will find comfort in that.” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “I will find no comfort in handing you to the Gods. You are not just a sacrifice, you are a virgin,” he points out and you turn away, skin hot for more than just the weather. “You know who they will hand you to, do you not?” He points out, giving you a hard look. 

Of course you do, the patron God of your village, Jongseong. He is many things, but merciful is not one of them. He is the God of War and Justice, the belief that things that are just will prevail over all. He is a depiction of what is right, and what befalls men who misunderstand such things. You know not what will become of you in his hands, perhaps he will use you, bend you to his will, subject you to the punishments that your village is currently experiencing, channeling his rage into you. It’s a terrifying prospect, of course, but what choices do you have? 

“I do,” you agree and he sighs. “Perhaps, if I’m given freely, he will show mercy⁠—” 

“He knows not mercy, you know this,” your father reminds you, glaring at you. “Don’t be stupid. You know well enough, you are beyond the age of silly hopes. You know what the Gods are capable of, of the things they might do to you. Jongseong will devour you, he will take you for all that you are. You are pure and untainted, he will make sure you are no longer the moment you are handed to him. I will not do that! I will not subject you to such depravity.”

“But⁠—” 

“This conversation is over,” your father tells you. “I am the head of this household and I will not be questioned. You are to remain here, safe. If they want a lamb for slaughter, they will find another. In the meantime, you pray. Pray every night to him, and to Jungwon. Hope they will have mercy on our village.” He turns back to the fire and you deflate, leaning back on your hands. 

You look towards the window, thin streams of moonlight trying to slip through the shutters. There’s not a cloud in the sky tonight. 

There’s not a cloud in the sky for another several days. The elders are unsure of what to do, you watch as members of your village share what meager food they have with one another, full hours of prayer being held in the village square. It drives you almost to madness, so close you think you might meet Jongseong just based on how filled with rage you are. Your father’s selfishness drives you to the brink, it’s what convinces you to take matters into your own hands. 

You walk into the meeting hall while the elders are meeting, surprising all of them into silence. You walk towards them, dropping to a prayer kneel before them, hands on your knees. Slowly, the village leader gets to her feet, looking down at you from the front table.

“What brings you to us, child?” She asks. 

“I wish to offer myself to the Gods,” you tell them. A murmur runs through the others though the leader does not look away from you as her expression softens into one of profound sadness and regret. “I know that I am young and unwed and virgin. I know that I am the best choice to be handed to the Gods. I know that you have asked my father and he has staunchly refused, but I am offering myself. My life may save the rest of the village’s. Please let me do this.” 

“You’d give your life?” She asks and you inclined your head slowly. 

“Yes, I would. Allow me to save everyone else’s.” 

When the day comes, you have not spoken to your father since you returned home from the elders. He yelled himself hoarse, calling you reckless and stupid. He near threatened to lock you in the home, keep you trapped until the village elders forgot all about your offer, insisting that it was only to keep you safe from yourself. You took his scolding with a steely gaze and told him that it wouldn’t change anything. He refused to speak to you, storming out of the home while your mother wept. 

You drape yourself in a ceremonial robe, of sheer white fabric that leaves your body near on display. You feel embarrassed but you know it’s all for show, that it’s meant to be symbolic of how pure and untainted you are. Despite the heat of the weather, you have goosebumps as you walk out of your house, greeted by much of the village and the elders. 

“Your sacrifice will not be vain,” the leader of your village assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are a special child to give your life for us. We will never forget your sacrifice,” she assures you and you nod in understanding. “Have peace with your family, and then we will take you to the temple.” You nod again and then turn to your parents. 

Your mother is still crying and your father is still furious. Your mother kisses your head through her tears while your father glares at you. Still he kisses you and tells you that he loves you. You think the shine in his eyes might be tears, but you can’t be sure. You’ve never seen him cry before. 

The elders take you up the hill to the temple, a great stone building. It rises up in front of you, with its long stone columns, curved roofs and spire rising up towards the heavens. Your breath is taken by it, as it always is. Once a year your village all come up here for a festival in Jongseong’s name, praising him and leaving offerings at the foot of his altar. You swallow harshly around the lump in your throat as you’re guided up the steps and into the great hall of the temple. 

At the back of the temple is the altar, decorated with many offerings. Nearly every day someone comes here to gift to him whatever can be spared, desperately hoping that he might have mercy on the village. It’s not changed anything so far, but perhaps, you will. Just before the altar is a long, low stone table, usually decorated with a feast for the festivities but now it lies empty, white and cold. The village leader helps you lie down on it. 

It’s been a great many years since a sacrifice has been made on this slab, but you are laid out on it like the sacrifices of old. Barely covered in the thin, gauzy fabric that drapes you, the stone is chilling against your skin despite the heat of the season. Once lying down, your wrists and ankles are taken by the elders while the leader says a prayer, ceremonial knife in hand. 

The shackles that surround your wrists and ankles are heavy, rusted with time, having not been used in far too long. They weigh you down, keeping you trapped against the table that you lie upon. You close your eyes, letting the words of the prayer wash over you, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. With your eyes closed, you don’t see it coming, until the sheer fabric of your robe is pushed aside and the knife is pressed into your skin. 

You resist the urge to scream despite how much it hurts, characters carved into your skin, running down your sternum, between your breasts. Blood wells and then runs down your skin, pooling on the stone and in the fabric of your robe. It’s symbolic of your virginity, that the God that may take you will take with him your purity. You try not to think too hard upon what that might mean as you feel your blood trailing down your body. 

When it ends you can finally breathe, through the aching pain that still runs through you. When you open your eyes, the village leader has stepped away from you. You watch as she and the rest of the elders kneel before the slab, hands clasped in prayer. You sigh softly, dropping your head back against the stone you lie upon. 

They stand after a few moments in prayer and then turn, leaving the temple. You’re left alone, open and on display, as the heavy wooden doors close behind them. You let your eyes fall shut again, waiting for what might become of you. 

You don’t know how long you laid on that stone, the air around your thick and stifling. You could feel the blood on your skin drying down, sticky and then flaky and uncomfortable. When you moved your hands and ankles, the chains of the rusted shackles clanged in the silence of the temple, the sound bouncing off the stone, filling the room. The hours seem to drag on and on, the only indication of time passing being the open ceiling above you, the sun tracing across the sky. Your breath becomes slow and tired, the heat of the day filling your lungs as you wait for what might inevitably befall you, no matter what it might be. 

The day has turned into night by the time anything happens. Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, your wrists and ankles ache with the weight that surrounds them, your chest still painful but having fallen into a near constant throbbing that you can mostly ignore now, the wounds will open but scabbed with blood. You stare up at the sky as the moon starts to rise over the edge of the open ceiling, the stars shining down on you sweetly. It almost makes you feel hopeful. 

You’re startled by the sudden flaring of the torches in the temple, looking around to see them all burning brightly where they line the walls. They glow orange and warm for a moment and then turn an eerie blue, dousing the room in cool light. You blink several times, looking around to see if anyone is nearby. Your mouth is dry and your heart is pounding. 

A crackling, creaking sound reaches your ears and you whip your head around to look at the altar. Right above the altar is a life sized carving of the God of War & Justice, carved out of stone that builds his temple, a constant presence. You watch the stone slowly shift in color, changing from cold gray into a warm, golden skin tone and flowing navy blue and silver. Your heart stutters in your chest as the stone comes alive, eyes closed, only for them to suddenly blink open, dark brown and intense. You swallow as best you can as he steps out from the wall, using the altar as a step to climb down from his perch, onto the floor of the temple. 

You watch as he approaches you, his expression one of disappointment and disdain. You feel shame, just lying before him as you are. He stops at your side, looking down upon you. 

“It’s crass, the things they do,” he comments, though it doesn’t seem to be towards you. “At the very least, they could show me some respect. These words mean nothing to me.” He reaches a hand out, running his fingertips over the words carved into your skin. They smart from the slight pressure, making you hiss. He doesn’t seem to pay you any mind. “If they want devotion, it would be my name carved into your skin. Not these useless words.” He brings his hand up to the top of the carved characters, slowly running the pad of his thumb down them. 

The smarting pain of the wounds slowly disappears, replaced with a cool, soft feeling, like silk over your skin. You look at your chest, seeing the wounds disappear right before your eyes. The characters change, reappearing once his thumb passes over them, knitted together on your skin in shades just lighter than your own complexion, scars reading his name. Park Jongseong is forever embedded in your skin once he’s gotten to the bottom of it, lifting his hand once completed. 

“Much better,” he comments. “Now, as for you,” he says, walking around the stone slab. “I don’t know what they think they’ll accomplish by bringing you to me.” He touches the shackles binding you, the heavy metal immediately coming undone and falling to the tiled floor with loud crashes. “But I don’t ask for human sacrifices. I don’t want them. Your village is misguided to think that giving me a life will change my mind.” He touches the last shackle around your wrist, allowing you to sit up, once freed. “I don’t bargain with humans who know not their place,” he tells you. 

“What… if I may?” You say and he nods his head. “What do you mean, your Divinity?” 

“You come from the village below, yes?” He asks and you nod, hesitantly. “They are reckless and disrespectful. They have driven their own land to infertility. They overfish and over breed their livestock. I have no use for humans who don’t understand how to cherish what they are given. This was a test, and by handing you to me, they have failed.” He leans towards you, eyes running over your figure. “A perfectly untouched virgin, pure and untainted. And they gave you to me, desperate to appease the God they’ve already disappointed. I owe them nothing.” 

“Please,” you say and his dark eyes meet yours. It makes you shiver, the intensity in them. “Have mercy. My village will die if you do not help.” 

“Mercy?” Jongseong asks. “You sit before me, carved and laid bare like a lamb, and you ask for mercy.” He touches your face gently, expression softening. “You must be young and innocent, to ask for such a thing. They gave you to me for their lives.” 

“What else were we to do?” You ask, voice shaking. “Without you, we’ll succumb to famine. If we survive the hot season, we won’t make the cold season. Please, I’m begging.” 

“You beg? You beg for me?” Jongseong asks, disappointment in his voice. “You are naive. Brought to me in a desperate bid to save your lives, knowing what I could do to you. I could devour you whole, do you realize what I am capable of?” He asks, forcing your head back, making you whimper under his hold. “Are you aware of the things I have done to humans for less? They know this and they bring you to me. You beg for mercy, as if their malevolence deserves it. Mercy begets mercy, my dear. A lesson your village will soon learn.” He lets go of you, and turns on his heel, walking back to his altar. 

“Wait, stop!” You call out, climbing off the stone table. He stops in his tracks. “Please, you don’t understand! They didn’t take me by force, they didn’t. I offered myself.” Slowly, Jongseong turns to you. You fold into yourself, shying away from his intense presence. “I offered myself, to the elders. They wanted a virgin, they wanted to appease you, yes, but my father refused. It was me. I’m the one you should blame, not them.” 

“You are more naive than even I thought,” Jongseong says, voice soft. “You hand yourself to me?” He asks, taking a careful step towards you.

“I do,” you agree. He approaches you again, causing you to shuffle back against the stone. With one hand, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you in. You gasp, suddenly pressed against his chest. Jongseong looks at you with dark eyes, but it doesn’t feel like he’s seeing you. It feels like he’s seeing through you, making your heart race, your hands tremble. Suddenly, his hand is on your face again, fingers gentle against your skin. 

“A selfless sacrifice, for the good of your people,” Jongseong says. You don’t speak, too scared of what might happen. “You hand yourself over to me, knowing well what might happen. You speak out of turn, disrespect your father, disappoint your mother and let the elders carve my prayer into your skin. You bare yourself to me despite your shame and fear. Even now, you tremble in my hold.” You try to turn away but he holds fast to your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes glow blue for a moment, making your breath catch. “Your village doesn’t deserve you, my dear.” 

“Wh-what?” You whisper. 

“Do you want them to live?” He asks, voice soft and alluring.

“Do- yes,” you agree immediately. The glow of his eyes dies down. 

“You do?” He asks and you nod vehemently in agreement. “You would do anything for that, wouldn’t you?” He asks, backing you back up against the stone. You swallow, nodding slowly this time. He pushes you down to sit you on the slab, causing you to grip at his clothes to steady yourself. As soon as you realize what you’ve done, however, you jerk your hands away, making him smile softly. “Your faith is more important than anything, I can see that within you. Do you pray to me?” His fingers trace the side of your face, looking up at him.

“Yes,” you agree. “Every night.” It’s true, you pray to Jongseong every night, born under his stars and his village. You are devout to him, gave your life to appease him. Others may cower in fear at the idea of him, but you know him for what he is, just and right. No matter how much fear you may feel towards how he will treat you or your village for what they have done, you know that it is not without reason. He will do what is necessary. 

“If that is truly what you wish, I will accept your selfless act as appeasement. You are devout and precious. Your village will mourn the loss of you like they have never mourned anything else,” Jongseong tells you, tucking a finger under your chin, tilting your head up further. “Your village will never truly move on from the grief of your loss.” 

“But they will live?” You ask and he nods once. “You promise me?” 

“I promise you,” Jongseong tells you, getting down to his knees before you. All so backwards, the way he kneels before you like a follower and you are his God. “I will let your village live, so long as you become mine. You have given yourself to me, and I will take what you have given. However, your sacrifice will resound throughout their history.” 

“I understand,” you agree. “I agree.” 

His lips press to yours. Your eyes widen, but you don’t see. The world becomes a swirling, spinning haze in front of your eyes, Jongseong disappearing from your sight as you’re consumed by a void, a navy blue void that envelops you entirely. Stars dot your sight, your body is being moved but you can’t make sense of it. Desire devours you whole, an aching, sizzling want settling deep within you, causing you to arch blindly against him, Jongseong’s hands landing on your body. 

When he pulls back, the room flares alive in your sight again. You’re opening your eyes but you don’t remember closing them, the whole temple bathed in blue light, the torches on the walls burning wildly enough that it looks like they might devour it. You can feel a warmth on your body, trails of scalding heat running over your bare skin as you’re pressed down into the slab you’re lying on. A body is over the top of yours, which you realize is the God himself when you can focus again. You look at him, mesmerized by the flickering, glowing blue that fills his irises when he lifts his head from your neck, your skin smarting from where his mouth once was. 

“I’m going to have you, fully and wholly,” he tells you, staring down into your eyes. “Your body will be mine by the end of the night.” Your breath leaves you in gasping pants, watching as he straddles your waist, hands running over your skin. It feels as though he could burn you, the heat seeping from his hands as he pushes the gauzy fabric from your body easily, revealing you to him. There’s not much to be revealed, but he does it eagerly, like he can’t wait to see what will be his before long. 

You clench your hands around the sides of the stone when he leans back down, kissing your skin again. His lips are like silk on your skin, your eyes rolling back as pleasure rushes through you. It’s unimaginable, the way he makes you feel though he’s barely touched you. You can feel a wetness between your thighs, your nipples pebbling without being touched. With every brush of his lips along your skin the scar that lies between your breasts aches, smarting like new, a reminder of who is about to claim you. 

When he pulls back again, he looks down at you softly, running his hands from your hips to your waist, caressing your skin gently. It builds an ache between your legs that is nearly incomprehensible. 

“You don’t touch me?” He asks, squeezing you gently. Your cunt clenches around nothing.

“Would you like me to?” You ask and he lifts a brow. “I… don’t want to sully you with my touch.” 

“You’re more pure than anything else in this room. I’m going to sully you, my dear. Put your hands upon me.” Hesitantly, you uncurl your fingers from around the edges of the stone, gently touching his shoulders. His eyes roll back, as though in ecstasy, swallowing roughly. “I’ve never been touched by something so blindly pure before. Your body makes me ache, my dear.” When his eyes meet yours again, the flicking fire in his irises seems brighter somehow. “I’m going to destroy you.” 

His mouth lands back on yours, the world spinning out of control. Your eyes slide closed, your fingers clutching at his neck. Jongseong moans into your mouth, his tongue pressing past your lips. He licks into your mouth like a man starved, desperate to taste every inch of the inside. You whimper as his hands start to move over your body again, heat trailing his every move. 

You lie back against the slab, letting yourself be kissed and touched by this God, that seems intent on worshiping you. Your mind spins as desire eats you up, through your whole body, feeling like there’s lightning in your bones. You arch underneath him, eyes rolling back as Jongseong runs his hands over your breasts, squeezing them softly in his hands, your nipples sore from sheer desire. He circles them with his thumbs, making you squirm underneath him, hips rocking up towards his, desperate for friction. 

He doesn’t give you any, he keeps you down against the slab as he runs his hands from your breasts to your ribs, being sure to graze his fingertips over the characters that mar your skin. You gasp, feeling like someone just poured molten metal down your spine, burning and sizzling and aching through you. Jongseong pulls away from your lips, doing it over and over again, watching you writhe underneath him, needy and helpless to his touch. 

“Do you feel that?” He whispers right above you. You dig your fingers into the sides of his neck, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations that are filling you. You don’t know that you’re meant to feel all of these things, that lying beneath a God won’t kill you, but perhaps that is your sacrifice. When Jongseong said he would devour you, he meant it. 

“J-” you stutter out, biting your tongue to stop yourself from speaking his name. You don’t deserve it, to call him by his name. He presses his thumb against your sternum though, right against the last character and you choke out a moan. 

“Say it,” he demands of you. “Say my name.” 

“Jongseong,” you gasp out and he moans above you. 

“Like a fucking prayer from your lips,” Jongseong sighs. “How beautiful.” He kisses you again, running his hands down your body, over your stomach. He climbs off of you, pulling away from your mouth so he can spread your legs apart, exposing you to him. You whimper at the idea of him seeing you like that, but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he kneels between your spread thighs, running his hands up your legs. “Look at me,” he demands and you do, shifting up onto your elbows to look at him. 

His eyes are the first thing you focus on, glowing like coals, bright blue and entrancing. You only tear your eyes away from them when he moves, lifting a hand to his cloak. He pulls it away from his body, revealing his golden skin beneath, all lean muscle, his body perfectly sculpted like that of marble. He is truly Godly, you realize as Jongseong pulls the fabric away, more and more of him until he’s throwing it to the ground and your heart leaps into your throat as your eyes roam the rest of his body. 

Down his chest, over his toned stomach, to the carved v of his hips and down between his thighs. Jongseong’s eyes don’t waver from you as yours focus on his cock, standing proudly between his thighs, ruddy at the tip and dripping from the slit. You swallow roughly, unfamiliar with the arousal of men, and yet it courses through you, the thoughts of what he might do to you. When you bring your gaze back to his face, he smirks at you. 

“You still wish to give yourself to me?” He asks. You nod in agreement, uncertainty disappearing from your mind. As nervous as you are, you won’t pull away. You won’t change your mind now, not when he’s already promised you. He leans over the top of you, causing you to drop back down onto your back, his hands resting on either side of your waist as he hovers above you. Hesitantly, you touch his shoulders, watching with rapt attention as his eyelids flutter over the top of his smoldering eyes. “Your mortal body may not be able to handle it,” Jongseong warns you, meeting your eyes again. “I may actually take you for all that you are. Do you still wish to hand yourself over to me so readily?” 

“Yes,” you agree. “Yes, I gave my word.” 

“And what a beautiful word that this,” he tells you. He gathers you in his arms, he pulls you up from the stone, pulling you onto his lap. You yelp softly, clinging to his shoulders as he does so. All of him is so hot against your skin, every place his skin touches yours scorching. Your robe flutters off of you fully, leaving you exposed and bare. You whine when you feel his cock press against your folds, warm and tempting and wet. 

He moves you like you weigh nothing, shifting you over his lap so that he can press the tip of his cock against your entrance. You squirm, suddenly anxious about it. Will he hurt you? Will he take you roughly, brutally, using your body for his own pleasure? Will he harm you as he takes you apart? Will you survive this encounter with the deity you’ve always prayed so desperately to? Gods help you, you don’t want to see Heeseung today. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Jongseong warns you. “Don’t you dare think another God’s name in my presence.” Abruptly, he pulls your hips down on his cock. You scream, head thrown back, pleasure pulsing through your body like you’ve just been cut open. 

Your heart is racing, your cunt is aching and the world is spinning. Bright flashes of light, gold and silver, fill your vision as Jongseong clutches you to his chest, fucking up into you. All you can do is cling back onto him, closing your eyes against the bright lights that suddenly fill you, shaking against his body as he fucks you with reckless abandon. You’re hardly more than a doll in his arms, being pulled down onto his cock over and over again, used for his pleasure. 

“Mine,” Jongseong bites out into your ear. His words tremble through you like they’re being spoken into your soul, a brand so deep you could never erase it. “This body is mine. This soul is mine. You belong to me.” You think you might be whining, might be agreeing, but all you can feel is a pulsing, relentless need that soaks into you. You’re barely human, mind empty, body flayed open for his taking. 

Your back hits the stone again, Jongseong hovering over you as he takes you for all that you are. When the haze of bright lights clears, you’re looking into the shining golden glow of the God that takes you. You can barely understand it, there’s blue fire dancing around his head and shoulders, sweat dripping from his body. You reach your hand up towards his face, gently cradling his cheek in your palm, causing him to look away from your body and into your eyes. 

“I belong to you,” you tell him. “I always have.” 

He leans down to press his lips to yours, eagerly kissing you. Your eyes slid closed, wrapping your arm around his neck while still cradling his face with the opposite hand. Warmth fills your body, golden and bright. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to stay inside of you. Jongseong does as you ask, fucking you in short, tight thrusts, keeping himself buried inside of your body. Heat ebbs through you, needy and desperate, centering deep within your hips. You arch up against his body, silently begging for him. Jongseong’s mouth diverts from your mouth to kiss down your throat, biting into the skin. You whimper, the pain a shock to your system through all the pleasure he’s given you, aching through your body. 

“Give it to me,” Jongseong urges in your ear. “Give it to me. Become mine and mine alone.” You don’t know what he means but when he grips your hips and fucks into you, hard enough that you feel as though you’re going to bruise, hips jarring against the stone beneath you, your eyes roll back into your head. Blue fire fills your vision as you’re taken apart by him and him alone. 

You’re consumed by the heat of him, like you’ve been swallowed whole by blue flames when you feel a heavy gush of wetness between your legs. Your mind is empty and blank, your body going lax beneath his. Jongseong watches from above you as your eyes turn white, a glowing blue lighting up the scars on your chest. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, chasing his orgasm. 

“That’s it,” he moans. “You’re more precious than you could ever imagine, my love.” He closes his eyes, throwing his head back as he lets himself come inside of your body. 

You awake in a bed, swaddled in soft fabrics, head lying upon a pillow more luxuriously soft than any you have ever known. You roll over in the bed, looking up into a blue sky, the most clear, cloudless sky you’ve ever seen, framed by marble. Your brow furrows as you slowly sit up, clutching the blankets to your bare chest. You’re still naked, left in the nude in the large bed you lie in alone. When you look around, you find yourself in a vast room of marble, the bed much too big, large swaths of decorated silk and stunningly embroidered tapestries hanging from the walls and blowing in the soft breeze that comes in the large, open windows. You have no idea where you are, but you are sure you don’t belong here. 

You extract yourself from the bed carefully, still wrapped in the blankets from the bed. You can’t leave without clothes, forcing you to look around, hopeful to find something to dress yourself in.

A draping robe of navy sits upon the back of a chair that sits before a vanity, gilded in silver. You snatch it from the back of the chair, wrapping it around yourself, letting it hang from your shoulder. It’s not the best option, threaded with silver along the edges, the fabric far too soft and gentle against your skin, clearly worth more than probably your own home. Still, without anything else to wear, it's your only option. 

You approach the hanging curtain of the doorway, gently brushing it aside. Your breath catches when you realize where you are. 

Marble and white stone stretches out as far as the eye can see, towering columns of white, curved roofs colored in jeweled tones, intricately decorated with gold, draping cloth with designs of silver and gold hanging from the overhangs. You can’t see where it ends but your attention is easily taken by the people around you. They all glow with a golden hue, draped in silver and golden jewelry, elegant robes and are more beautiful than fathomable. You try to stumble back behind the curtain lest someone see you, but you’re not fast enough. 

“There she is,” someone says, suddenly catching you by the wrist. You’re tugged aside, eyes widening as you find yourself face to face with the God of Merriment himself, Jaeyun. You try to get away, but he has a tight grip on you, smiling at you with all of his teeth, glowing golden and warm. “Come now, beautiful. You’re the talk of the palace.” 

“Please, I- I don’t mean any disrespect⁠—” 

“Disrespect, from you! Never, my dear,” he lays on, bringing you in closer. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in. “Someone as devout as you could never be disrespectful. After all, Jongseong brought you here, didn’t he?” 

“He did?” You ask, voice cracking. 

“Don’t remember much?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “Doesn’t surprise me none. The way he took you⁠—” 

“That’s enough, Jaeyun.” You turn away from the God before you, only for your breath to catch in your throat. “Haven’t you something better to do than bother our newest guest?” The King of the Gods himself, Jungwon, tells him while approaching the two of you. Jaeyun’s arm slides away from your shoulders. “Busy yourself elsewhere,” he tells him. 

“How disappointing,” Jaeyun sighs. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around, your highness,” he teases you, winking pointedly. Your brow furrows, not understanding. Jungwon, however, quickly comes to your side, turning you around to guide you back into the room. 

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Jungwon warns you. Once inside, Jungwon closes the curtain behind you. When he turns back to you, he smiles gently. “Don’t mind Jaeyun, he’s like any other God. A mortal is nearly irresistible to such Gods, the desire is unimaginable, even if you do belong to Jongseong. Be glad it wasn’t Heeseung.” He warns you. 

“What did he mean?” You ask, heart racing. “When he called me that?” 

“I think Jongseong should explain it to you. Stay here,” Jungwon tells you. “You don’t want to be caught outside of this room by anyone else.” He turns and walks back out, being sure to keep the curtain closed behind him. You stumble back to the edge of the bed, sitting down on it with a sigh. 

When the curtain is suddenly thrown back not long later you flinch back, thankful to find that it’s Jongseong who’s coming in. He places a plate on the vanity and then goes to you. You lean away, worried that you might’ve angered him somehow by walking out without telling him but he simply drops to his knees before you. You gasp softly, surprised by the action. 

“You’re more reckless than even I thought,” he tells you, reaching for you. His hands land on your legs, sliding up them, gathering the material of the cloak you’re wearing. You squirm away from his wandering hands but Jongseong simply ignores you, collecting the fabric that drapes your body until he’s got enough of it in his hands he can simply take it off of you. You gasp, trying to cover yourself, but he quickly climbs you, covering your body with his own. The fabric of his robes brush against your bare skin as he leans over the top of you, forcing you onto your back, his mouth landing on the valley between your breasts. 

Hot metal trickles down your spine, your hands flying to his hair, biting your lips to keep your sounds in. His hands grab your waist, his tongue laving over the scars that decorate your skin, your head thrown back into the bed as you ache, arousal pooling between your legs, deep within your hips. 

“Don’t you dare keep quiet,” Jongseong whispers into your skin. His mouth trails over your skin, scorching and burning. “Those bastards have already touched you. Tell them who you belong to.” He bites your nipple, making you cry out. “That’s it. Let them all know who’s body this is.” He moves to the other, also biting, pinching and tugging at the one already bitten. You moan, digging your fingers into his scalp. 

“Jongseong!” You moan, back arching, hips rocking up against his. 

“Louder,” he demands, sliding back down to the floor so he can get between your legs. You gasp through every breath, pushing yourself up to your elbows to look. “I want them to hear you below the fucking earth,” he tells you, eyes burning blue. “I want everyone to know who’s fucking mortal you are.” Spreading your legs apart he dips down towards your hips, fitting his mouth over your cunt. 

“Jongseong!” You scream as he laps at you, holding you open. His mouth eats at your cunt like he can’t get enough, lapping and sucking, obscene wet noises reaching your ears, heating your skin further in embarrassment. Even still, bright flashes of light go off in your vision, reminding you of who you’ve managed to find yourself in bed with. Heat and desire and need crackle through you as Jongseong sucks at your clit, taking a hand off of your leg just so he can spread you open further, shoving two fingers inside of you. You scream, back arching, body all but convulsing on his sheets. 

He thrusts his fingers in and out of you at a manic pace, sending your eyes rolling back, cunt clenching and unclenching wildly, trying to pull him in further, chasing the feeling. You don’t even register the way your hips are working back against his fingers, long since having fallen back onto your back. Your mind is utterly blank as you let yourself be consumed by him, his need, his desire, his jealousy to remind every God on the planet just whose follower you are. Whose bed you woke up. Whose bed you belong in. 

You come all over his fingers with a helpless scream of his name again, back arching, silver light filling your vision. You’re completely taken apart by him again, going limp against the bed as he finishes with you, pulling back with your cum on his lips and his fingers. Jongseong stands, licking his lips clean as he climbs into bed with you. 

“How naive you are,” he tells you, turning your head to look at him. You blink your eyes open to look at him, trying to catch your breath. “Those Gods would tear anyone apart to get a mortal of their own. But this one,” he touches the scars on your chest again, making you shudder, “it belongs to me. My pretty queen,” he coos, leaning down to kiss you. When he pulls back, you gently touch his cheek again. 

“You’d take me as your wife?” You ask and he smiles softly. 

“You are faithful and selfless. You are the embodiment of mercy, my dear,” he tells you, stroking his fingertips over your cheek. “You’ll become a Goddess yet.”

a/n: *the unprotected sex depicted is both purposeful and symbolic, engage in safe sex practices like condoms and contraceptives in real life. safe sex saves lives; this is a god concept i came up with myself, modeled after the greek pantheon but it's kind of a fusion between the pantheon and korean cultural gods so, suspend your disbelief. this was an idea i thought of and really wanted to play with and jay was so perfect! i hope you enjoyed it, this was a very visceral and yet abstract concept for me, i hope you understand!

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