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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years

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Safe Haven ~Bang Chan | Day 90.

Pairing: SpaceRebel!Chan x WitchQueen!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy AU | Sci-Fi AU | Royalty AU | Soulmate AU | Slow Burn | Mutual Pining | Angst | Smut | Fluff. Series Warnings: Third person POV · Very loose and liberal usage of Star Wars concepts (mostly to refer to weapons and tech). you don’t need to know anything about SW to read this, trust me · Physical descriptions of the main female character such as: can visibly blush, having long hair, and being short · Violence · Swearing · Mature themes and language · Original characters · Graphic smut (later chapters) · Mentions of the members of other groups (later chapters) · No one is straight, beware · Each chapter will include its own individual warnings. Chapters marked as M (Mature) either include highly detailed violence, or smut.

Chapter Warnings: weapons. Word Count: ~6k | AO3

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for a 18+ audience only. Minors do not interact. ✰This chapter has been reworked as of 16/08/2023

Previous Chapter: Day 82. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 91.

Author’s Note: 👀

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Eight days after Dall sent their message to all units, Chan and his crewmates found themselves on a giant planet practically on the other side of the galaxy.

The terrain was made out of rocky formations, with a few sparse patches of greenery, and it was seemingly completely void of life. Following the exact coordinates from Dall’s message, the Big Bad Wolf circled a mountain. Considering how well concealed it was, the crack on the side of it was surely only perceptible to those who were actually looking for it.

Chan expertly steered the ship through the trees and into the mountain. The hidden hole was lined with metal slabs, stretching for many metres until they finally reached a hangar. There were some people already filtering out from the handful of ships stationed there while the Big Bad Wolf made its landing. Chan recognised a few of the parked vessels, some of them belonged to units they had collaborated with in the past, or to members of the Alliance they had simply met in passing.

The crew inside the Big Bad Wolf was engaged in animated conversation, trying to guess who would be coming or what could possibly be discussed today. Some of them were already unbuckling their safety belts as Chan and Changbin pressed buttons on the main console to finish the ship’s landing process.

“Wow, shit–” Chan’s hand flew to his head, and he clutched his hair lightly as the sudden noise reverberating in his skull shocked his senses.

It had been around a month since he last heard it. In fact, he was convinced the sound wouldn’t come back, that it had probably been a product of their crash-landing in Lira Le, and he had now healed completely. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, considering now–as he shook his head slightly–he started to hear that odd hum in his ears again.

“You okay, dude?” Changbin was clearly worried by the tone of his voice, not like Chan could see him, since he had shut his eyes tightly at the sudden intrusion in his brain.

“Y–yeah. Just a bit lightheaded all of a sudden”, Chan dared not speak about the hum. He worried sometimes that he’d truly damaged his head beyond repair, which could possibly render him useless as a pilot. Although, being honest, he was able to perform this task flawlessly still to this day.

Even if it was unexpected, he couldn’t help but feel weirdly comforted by the familiar sound resonating deep within him once again.

Chan dismissed any further questioning from his friend, years of hiding his worries and concerns had given him enough experience to dance around the situation almost perfectly. Changbin dropped the subject almost immediately, and he secured all brakes and levers in their right place, so the group could finally make their way out of the Big Bad Wolf.

There was a pleasant air of friendliness in the hangar, Chan saw a lot of familiar faces, and enthusiastic hugs and handshakes were exchanged as everyone greeted each other. He decided to put up his best I’m Fine Everything’s Fine face when he addressed people, while his friends thankfully did most of the heavy lifting, and carried most of the conversations.

Truth was, Chan’s mood had hardly improved in the past eight days. Sure, he was no longer actively cranky, but he felt defeated, almost empty. He discovered that the Queen was exceptional at keeping her word, since she hadn’t called him again during this time, giving Chan the space he had asked for.

He regretted it.

Radio silence was much, much worse than a few unanswered calls. At this point, he truly no longer cared about it at all. Sure, he was no longer hung up on uncertainties, but he wanted to know how she was, what she had eaten for dinner, if she was sleeping well, how Freyja was… He just wanted to hear her voice, and that longing in itself certainly hurt the most.

Admittedly, Chan could’ve called as well, but every time he laid his palm over the stone-comm on his chest the words just wouldn’t come out, he was genuinely unsure of what to say to her.

In any case, he had to push his romantic sorrows aside to properly focus on the task at hand.

None of them knew exactly what to expect from this meeting, so every member of his team came prepared for any possible scenario. Blaster pistols and zapper guns were strapped to their belts, and an assortment of cold weapons had been strategically hidden under their clothes. Minho even brought his blaster rifle, the thing was almost half his size, and strapped to his back.

In a last minute decision, Chan had even wrapped the enchanted ribbons around his limbs before getting dressed earlier today, just in case he had to partake in any physical altercation. To this day, the soft fabric still made him feel like the Queen was right there, which he wasn’t sure made things better or worse for him.

A wild thought crossed Chan’s mind suddenly while his crewmates and another unit they’d worked with in the past walked from the hangar’s exit to the main hall. His eyes wandered, scanning people’s faces the closer they got to their destination. The Queen was as much a member of the Alliance as they were… Would she have briefly left Lira Le to attend the meeting?

The chances were slim, but that tiny, tiny possibility shook him to his very core…

What unit did the Queen belong to, anyway? It wasn’t that common for people to work on their own in the Alliance, so there was a high chance that some people here might work with her. Dev seemed to be in on the Alliance, too, so they both surely worked in the same team… It wasn’t something he could ask around about, though, so he decided to drop the thought altogether, trying to focus on what the person next to him was telling him.

“I must say, it looks nice”, Hongjoong gestured to Chan’s head.

Hongjoong was the leader of the ATZ unit, he and Chan had worked together many, many times. Their units had successfully carried out some of their riskier missions together–bring down an entire slave ring that connected three different adjacent planets, take down the guard ports stationed in the twenty moons of one of the biggest planets in the galaxy, to name a couple…

Hongjoong had a similar philosophy when it came to leading, his role as captain was reserved mostly for when they were on a ship or on a mission. Just like Chan, he took his crewmates’ opinions into account, and regarded them with as much respect as they deserved, so he and Chan naturally worked well together.

Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Felix had attempted to fix his hair when Chan had trusted him again. He really tried his best, but the result was a little more than questionable… The top of Chan’s head was still fire-red, while the sides had turned black. If he’d looked like a chicken before, he was a full-on rooster now, and he was trying his best to ignore it.

“I don’t even wanna talk about it”, Chan grumbled. “At least your two-toned hair makes sense”, he gestured to Hongjoong’s head.

The man’s hair was parted in the middle, one half was black, while the other was white. Chan’s comment made Hongjoong chuckle softly. He genuinely looked really cool, and Chan couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit jealous… But he’d live. The state of his hair was absolutely insignificant when compared to what they were here to do.

The main hall of the facility was spacious, it could surely harbour a few hundreds of people. Numerous metal containers were scattered around the place, some stacked high up to five containers at a time, while others simply lined the walls in neat rows. By the time Chan, his friends, and Hongjoong’s entire unit entered the hall, many Alliance units were already there, mingling and conversing with one another.

As Chan and his crew greeted another unit they had collaborated with, he saw someone in his peripheral vision walk past him and abruptly stop in their tracks. He could feel the person staring, almost like their eyes were burning a hole into his body when they eyed him up and down. Chan simply stared back, puzzled at the sudden attention. He vaguely recognised the person as a man he’d heard speak a few times in their last Alliance meeting–Yong, if he recalled the name correctly.

The man shook his head slightly, disregarding Chan’s attempts to get his attention completely as he turned around and walked away, getting lost in the sea of people filtering into the hall. Chan decided to not think too deeply about it. Maybe the guy recognised him from back then, too, or maybe he had confused Chan with someone else.

The hall was steadily getting more and more packed. In no time, hundreds of rebel units had filled the space a fair amount. After around thirty minutes, a loud whistle ceased all conversations, and Chan was sure he would’ve been able to hear a pin drop with how quiet it suddenly was.

Everyone turned to the source of the sound. It was Yong, who stood on top of a few stacked metal crates. The height surely gave him a good view of everyone in the room, as well as made it easier for people to see him.

“Some of you might remember me, but for those that don’t, or haven’t met me before, my name’s Yong”, he scanned people’s faces for a moment, deep in thought. Once everyone’s attention was on him, he took a deep breath and spoke again.

“I’m a member of Dall’s unit, and you’re currently standing on our base”.

Gasps were heard around the room. Chan was genuinely surprised, evident in the way his eyebrows rose high on his face. No one had met anyone close to Dall–not that they were aware of, at least.

The unexpected confession felt meaningful, something really serious was happening for Dall’s unit to be coming out of the shadows, and he was unsure of what to expect. Everyone around him clearly had similar thoughts, since several people exchanged worried looks.

“First of all, thank you for coming. We truly appreciate you just being here at this time”, Yong spoke, steadily and confidently. “We have gathered you all here today to discuss the topic of the enhanced weapons we were developing to use against the Charmer’s mutated creatures”.

“We have successfully enhanced many different types of weapons, blasters, daggers, spears, lightsabers, you name it”, Yong explained. “They have proven to be highly effective, so we’ve been working on a plan to inflict a direct blow on the Charmer and his kin. It’s going to be dangerous, possibly deadly, just like it always is. Once again, we ask you to make a choice, whether you wish to stay here and assist with the plan, or whether you wish to leave”.

Yong scanned people’s faces as murmurs grew among the crowd. Murmurs turned to whispers, whispers to a regular tone, which eventually evolved into pure chaos as people grew antsier. Screams and shouts resonated all around when people started voicing their opinions.

“Why isn’t Dall here relaying the information directly?” Someone shouted from the sides.

“Dall’s not–” Yong started, but he was immediately interrupted by someone else.

“We’re always risking our lives, but what’s Dall doing? Why haven’t they shown their face?” Someone pressed.

Chan was honestly not surprised at the outburst. Even if he didn’t agree, if he was sure knowing who or what Dall was didn’t matter at all, he could understand why people wanted to have some sort of reassurance by seeing their leader’s face. Especially now, since the plan clearly involved an offensive strategy. It was pretty difficult to track the enemy anyway, so the Alliance had always mostly acted in defence, not actively seeking the Charmer or his minions, but rather going to those places that had already been attacked so they could take them back.

Yong had clearly lost the crowd as people’s demands grew louder, the man’s face contorted in slight annoyance when he sighed. Another whistle resonated in the space, and people shut up for the attention to be back on Yong.

“Listen, I understand you want to see them, know who they are, but that’s just not possible. The fact that Dall has remained anonymous all this time is not because they wanted to be, but because they had to”, Yong was clearly a good spokesperson, his tone was completely even, and his eyes were full of confidence. He seemed to be completely unfazed as he addressed the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him, but some people were too riled up to relent.

“We never attack directly! If we’re going to risk our lives we deserve to know. We should meet them”, someone shouted from behind the crowd.

Yong looked at them briefly, but then his eyes scanned the crowd as murmurs picked up once more. After a few moments of thinking, he sighed. “Okay, fair enough. Give me some time and I’ll get back to you on that request”.

He swiftly jumped from the tall stack of crates. Upon landing, a blinding light flashed abruptly, and his form disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving everyone slightly confused.

Soon enough, voices grew louder when people started to discuss the topic at hand, some people even argued against each other on whether or not meeting Dall was important. Even if Chan understood people’s reasoning and desires to know the face they had followed for this long, it slightly aggravated him that some people would even suggest to quit the cause over this. To him, it was almost as if all they’d done to this point meant nothing to them.

Chan’s crew was discussing the topic with Hongjoong’s, most of them clearly wanted to know who Dall was, but they all agreed it wasn’t something that would particularly influence their willingness to participate anyway. Chan wasn’t really taking part in the conversation, his eyes were looking at nothing in particular when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder.

“Chris”, it was Felix, leaning towards Chan from behind, whispering. “Yong’s a warlock. There’s a lot of magic around us right now”.

Chan turned to his friend and shrugged. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were many warlocks and witches here, just like he wouldn’t be if there were hybrids, androids, or people from all sorts of species. He truly didn’t care, all he cared about was this plan of theirs and how they could assist. People’s need for gossip on the matter wasn’t something that interested him in the slightest.

A sudden whistle brought everyone’s attention back to the stacked crates, to Yong once again standing in front of the crowd.

“Like I said, Dall’s anonymity is of great importance to the cause. However, we can reach a compromise. They have agreed to meet the leaders of five units face to face”, Yong announced, voice level, if only a little stern.

Mumbling broke free in the hall, and people started whispering to each other.

“I’ll go around collecting the five of you, and explain the conditions after. Regardless of who’s chosen, the rest must agree to accept these five leaders’ assessment. Understood? Or does anyone have any objections to this?” After a few minutes of whispers and discussions, no one objected.

People reasoned that some of them meeting the person–or thing, or people…–was better than no one doing it, so Yong jumped from the crate to the floor, and started moving along the numerous units.

Chan froze a little. Would he be one of the chosen ones? He saw Yong shuffle between units, briefly addressing their leaders before he moved to the next. Surely he wouldn’t be, why would he? Sure, their unit had carried out a great number of successful missions, but there were way more prepared unit leaders out there. There was no reason for them to want to–

“Chan”, Yong nodded to him, and Chan’s eyes went wide in surprise. Minho pushed on his shoulder slightly, urging him to follow the man.

Chan fell into step next to Hongjoong, who’d been selected as well, and they just followed Yong’s lead. They were led into an adjacent corridor, the automatic door shut closed as soon as all six of them stepped into the threshold, leaving the incessant murmurs in the hall behind them.

Chan could finally see exactly who had been chosen, they were all people he knew and had worked with in joined missions before. Aside from Hongjoong and himself, there was also Joohyun, Junmyeon, and Yongsun. In Chan’s opinion, they were all respectable leaders who–from what he had heard and experienced himself–had contributed a lot to the cause.

The silence was deafening in the corridor, and the five leaders stood in a semi circle as Yong looked at them for a moment. With a sigh, he started talking. “Dall has asked for the five of you as you’ve contributed a great deal to the Alliance, and they trust you and your judgement. You will meet Dall, but you must promise you won’t speak about them. It is detrimental to the Alliance’s success that their identity remains anonymous until the very end”.

Joohyun scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “How can we confirm to the rest that they are to be trusted if we don’t speak about them?”

Yong gave her an exasperated look. “What I mean is… Dall must remain an entity. Genderless, ageless, faceless. Were the Charmer and his minions to discover their identity, all these years of fighting would’ve been for nothing. You must not give details to anyone, not even to your crewmates”.

He gave them all a pointed look. No one else said anything else, so he continued. “If you don’t agree with this, you can still walk out. Just know that, after you speak to them, should their identity be leaked, we’d know it was one of you”, there was a slight edge to his voice. Yong didn’t want to go through with this, it was clear in the way he stressed his words, in the looks he gave the five of them.

Junmyeon looked at the group, and took in each of their faces before he spoke. “I’m willing to keep the secret”.

Hongjoong and Chan looked at each other briefly, the younger leader offered Chan a minute shrug, followed by a nod.

“Us too”, Chan meant it. He had too much respect towards Dall’s cause, so he would take the secret to his grave if he had to. He wasn’t about to throw away years of hard work, of risking their lives, and of immeasurable trauma, just over a few words of gossip

“Me too”, Yongsun said confidently, cracking her knuckles.

The five of them looked at Joohyun, who was looking at Yong intently. Finally, with a sigh, she gave her answer. “Me too”.

Yong led them through corridor after corridor, the air got colder the deeper they went into the facility, but it wasn’t particularly unpleasant.

After a few minutes of walking within this specific corridor, Yong stopped in front of a door. He turned to look at the group of expectant unit leaders, and his eyes scanned each and every one of their faces. With a final defeated sigh, he turned back to the door, and knocked softly on it.

The room on the other side of the door was spacious, numerous pictures and papers were stuck with drawing pins to the cork lining the walls. In the very centre of the room sat a table, with around ten people surrounding it. A map of the current planet they were on was spread out in the middle, with wooden figures resting on top of it to represent important landmarks. A holographic map of the galaxy floated above their heads, where all the Charmer invaded planets were coloured green for easier recognition, while all the planets they had already taken back were coloured purple.

It was all impressive in a way, how everything in the room held a piece of the Alliance’s history… Yet, Chan couldn’t focus on any of it, his body was suddenly frozen in place as he stared towards the table, paralysed the moment his eyes found familiar ones that were now staring right back at him.

She was there.

The Queen was there, and she was looking right at him. Her gaze was loaded, and an almost apologetic smile spread on her lips as she regarded him with the tiniest shrug of her shoulders. He was too stunned to move, much less to speak, or even hear. The only sound he could register was that incessant hum making its home in every crevice of his brain.

She moved. Oh Gods, she was moving… But Chan couldn’t move, his eyes simply followed her as she came from behind the table and stood in front of the five leaders by the door. As soon as she was there, a defeated looking Yong moved to stand right behind her.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Dall. Or more accurately, I’m the one who created the idea of Dall”, she said it so nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just kick-started a million different thoughts and memories within Chan. There are things you still don’t know about me. Things I wish I could tell you, but I can’t without putting a lot of people and you at risk, her haunting words played back in his mind while he stared at her, and he almost wanted to laugh.

Hongjoong spoke next to Chan. What did he say? Chan didn’t hear it, the hum in his ears was too loud, and his eyes were too focused scanning every feature of the Queen’s face, even when she was no longer looking at him. His gaze trailed down to her neck, where he found a thin leather choker hugging it comfortably, with a blue stone hanging from it. A matching stone to the one that rested against his skin under his shirt.

Chan felt a nudge on his side, and his head snapped towards the movement to find Hongjoong’s wide eyes looking at him. “Uh…” He couldn’t produce any sounds, his mind was suddenly blank, incapable of coming up with any word he’d ever known in any of the languages he spoke.

“I was telling, uh, Dall? your name”, Hongjoong’s hand came to rest on Chan’s shoulder, and he shook Chan slightly.

The chuckle in front of him brought Chan’s attention back to the Queen, who was turning the rings on the fingers of her left hand with the fingers of the other. It was an action that was so fundamentally her that for a brief moment he wondered if he was going to pass out.

“You guys don’t need to introduce yourselves to me. I know who each one of you are”, she was genuine in her statement, which didn’t surprise Chan in the slightest, she could very well know who everyone in the Alliance was. However, he couldn’t help but think ‘Of course you know who I am. I’ve had my tongue down your throat…’

“I know it might be a bit shocking to see my face and hear my voice after so many years of anonymity. I’m sure Yong has told you, but it is very important that no one knows who I am”, she looked Chan dead in the eyes as she said it, which almost made him scoff. Even in his stunned state, he wouldn’t have dared out her–not as Queen, not as Dall. “Come to the table, we must talk about the plan”.

Her Majesty made her way back to her original spot by the middle of the table, and Yong stood at her right side. The leaders followed them, Hongjoong pulled Chan by the elbow with a huff of ‘What’s gotten into you’ so they could stand on the opposite side of the table.

The people around the table were all dressed in a similar fashion–Her Majesty included. Long sleeved, dark cotton shirts and trousers, with an assortment of straps over their bodies that held currently empty holsters in place. Chan noticed the familiar face on the Queen’s left side. Kul, the man he’d seen appear from thin air back in Lira Le ages ago.

Even among the rumble inside his head, curiosity bubbled over within him, and it seemed like a lightbulb had lit up in his mind. Was this Dall’s unit? The Liralean Queen’s Guard? Absurd. Ludicrous.

All this time, when Chan chatted with Dall, he’d really been communicating with her. The Queen of Lira Le had been the one to guide them numerous times into safety, the who’d led them to free so many enslaved civilians, to take back so many planets… Unidentifiable emotions brewed within Chan, but this wasn’t the time to dissect them.

“I would like first to thank you all for your continuous support. It’s been a dangerous road, but you have all pushed through, and I am truly, truly thankful”, she placed a hand over her heart and bowed her head. “Now, to more pressing matters… Thanks to you, we’ve been able to identify what the Charmer has been looking for all this time”.

Everyone’s breaths caught in their throat. Any guesses as to what the Charmer’s motives were until now, were just that, guesses. Her Majesty took a deep breath, and continued. “We all know the Charmer uses dark magic to seize planets and void them of their resources. However, usurping planets has never been his goal, it’s just something he does to fuel the specific type of dark magic he uses…”

Her eyes scanned each of their faces. “None of you have magic, so you don’t know. But that level of magic isn’t something you can typically achieve naturally”.

Yongsun raised her hand then, speaking once the Queen nodded her way. “I’m sorry, but isn’t all dark magic bad? Why does it matter which type of magic he’s using?”

Her Majesty chuckled. “No, not all dark magic is bad. I harbour dark magic as well, and I don’t travel across the galaxy straight up murdering innocent people, do I?” The confession made Yongsun recoil a bit. Chan wondered briefly, if he’d been in this room before he’d met the Queen, would’ve he had the same outdated notions Yongsun did?

“What you need to know is that his magic is artificially enhanced by all the despair and destruction he causes”, the Queen offered. “When magic is enhanced that way, it’s powerful, yes. But also very unreliable”.

Her Majesty pulled a piece of paper from the side of the table to the middle, facing the five leaders. Chan’s eyes widened in surprise at the words scribbled on the paper, they were the same ones he himself had retrieved from the Charmer’s base, the ones that got him stranded in Lira Le in the first place.

“You might recognise this”, she addressed Chan, and his gaze snapped up from the paper on the table to her eyes. “This is what the Charmer’s truly looking for”.

“Uh… I’m sorry, but”, Hongjoong’s tone was unsure, and Chan honestly couldn’t blame him. “These words make no sense”.

“To you”, the Queen chuckled. “He’s looking for a way to make his power permanent. He’s seeking the Shadows”, Kul visibly tensed next to the Queen at her words. “While he destroys planets and enslaves people, he’s also looking for the Shadows, which is a power known among magic wielders to be granted by bathing in a very specific spring”.

“Are you sure about this?” Junmyeon’s eyes met hers confidently. “It sounds a bit–”

“I’m sure. All magic wielders in this room are”, Her Majesty’s words left no room for argument. Junmyeon was slightly taken aback, but he still nodded, and his gaze moved from her to look at the people around her, clearly understanding.

“Which brings us to the plan…” She took the piece of paper with the cryptic words written on it, and placed it in her back pocket. “We’re going to bait him into thinking the spring is on this planet, and when he comes, we’ll ambush”.

“What?!” Joohyun was clearly panicking at the mere thought. “You’re thinking of fighting him?! Face to face?! That’s crazy”.

Chan winced slightly at her words, and his gaze found the Queen as she looked at Joohyun. Her face was impassive, but there was fire in her eyes, it burned so brightly there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed it.

“All this”, Her Majesty gestured to the detailed hologram of the galaxy above them. “All we’ve done as the Alliance has brought us to this moment. There’s no more time left, we can’t let the Charmer continue with this slaughter. He must be stopped now, and he will be stopped”, her voice was firm, confident. “My unit will stay here and fight. You guys must make your own decision. If you wish to stay here with us, we’ll welcome you. If you wish to leave and return to your own base of operations, we’ll respect your decision. We’ve never forced you to do anything, and we never will. Regardless of what you choose, we will be here, and we will stop him”.

Her determination flowed in waves out of her, highlighted by her ten guards who stood proud and poised at her sides. That fire in her eyes was contagious, and Chan felt courage pour right into him from her words.

“What’s your plan, then?” Chan had been stunned to speak for so long that his own voice out loud surprised him. Her Majesty’s head snapped back from Joohyun to look at him, the determination in her eyes was now mingling with another indecipherable emotion while she looked at him, while she gave him her undivided attention. “Should we decide to stay back and fight, what’s the plan?”

The Queen stared back at him, her eyes pierced right through his physical form and into his soul, reaching those secluded areas deep within him. After a few moments of silence, and after taking a deep breath, she spoke again. “We’ve got an insider. The insider will plant the information in two days time that the spring is located here… Tomorrow, I’ll set off on one final mission, by the time I come back he should already be here, and that’s when we’ll strike”.

Chan hummed, holding her gaze.

Junmyeon cleared his throat, but the Queen didn’t look away from Chan’s eyes while the man spoke. “What are our resources? Should we stay, of course”.

The Queen–albeit rather reluctantly–broke eye contact with Chan, and looked at Junmyeon instead. “There are plenty of enhanced weapons and rations in this base… Also, we’ve got some of the most skilled magic wielders in the galaxy here, and a handful more coming. If there’s a chance, then it’s here with us”, she gestured to her guards at her sides.

“We also chose this planet because it’s big. There’s hardly any fauna and the only people inhabiting it live on the other side of the planet, so if things derail, hopefully no civilians will be harmed”, she added. “Let all units know of the plan–being mindful of keeping my identity out of the report, of course–and make sure you all make an informed decision. Further details will be shared once we know who’s in and who’s out”.

The leaders exchanged looks. All of them except for Chan, whose eyes were now focused solely on the Queen’s.

In a way, he knew what his unit would do, he could already picture his friends’ faces as they all urged to stay here, to stand up and fight, but he still needed to discuss it with them. Even if he was sure of it, there was always a slight chance that one of them decided to back out.

As for himself, staring right back into her eyes, and regardless of what his friends decided, there was no doubt in his mind of his own decision.

Chaos erupted in the main hall the moment the five unit leaders came out from the adjacent corridor. The five of them had a brief conversation before coming back there, they decided in unison that–after meeting her–they all trusted ‘Dall’, and came up with a way to relay the news to everyone. So, Junmyeon stood tall among the chaos, and with his stern shush everyone went quiet.

He started to explain Dall’s plan. As promised, the pronouns used to refer to her remained neutral. A wave of whispers crossed the hall, and Joohyun clapped loudly to bring back the attention to the five of them.

Junmyeon continued, informing everyone that in two days time, the Charmer will be tipped into coming to this planet, and that, as soon as he arrived, the Alliance would attack. Lastly, he let everyone know that weapons and rations were available already for those that decided to stay back and fight alongside Dall and their unit.

Another wave of whispers started, but this time, none of the leaders stopped it. Instead, they nodded to each other and each one returned to their respective units. Even if Chan was still shaken up by Her Majesty’s unexpected presence–and her even more unexpected revelation–he put up his best Leader Façade and walked towards his friends.

“Of course we’ll stay. We’re staying, right?” Jisung’s words rushed out of his mouth, and a dangerous mix of anxiety and determination coated his voice.

“I’m staying”, Chan said confidently. “But I won’t make you guys stay. If any of you want to back out, now’s the time”.

Changbin huffed. “I’m staying, too. If I’m dying, at least I’ll do it next to you guys”.

Jeongin and Seungmin exchanged a look, and stared at each other for a few moments, clearly unsure. Chan couldn’t blame them if they decided to leave. Even if he knew they were more than capable of defending themselves, they were usually the two staying back as trackers on all their missions, so this would be unfamiliar territory for them.

Jeongin shrugged. “I’m staying”, he said confidently, which made Chan’s heart swell in his chest.

“Me too”, Seungmin added right after.

Felix looked at Chan, and he stared right back. They had been together for years, longer than they had been with the others. They fled their home planet together, and they built their team together, so Chan already knew his choice the second a smirk crept onto Felix’s face, “I’m staying, too”.

Minho slung an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders, and shook him back and forth slightly. “What’re we gonna do, Hyunjin? Are we gonna leave our friends alone?”

Hyunjin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course not”.

Chan felt warm. The feeling encompassed every fibre of his being as the group came together in a circle with their heads pressed together. “I’m proud of you. Of us”, he ruffled Jeongin’s and Seungmin’s hair since they were the ones standing at each side of him. “Whatever happens, know that it’s been a pleasure rebelling with you”.

Chatter broke among the units, members mingled with one another as people discussed their decision, their next steps, and so on. It was all amicable. No one batted an eye when someone decided to leave, no one particularly cheered when someone decided to stay. They could all recognise the situation was complex, so there was no judgement rolling between them.

With food in their stomachs and their spirits lifted, Chan took his friends towards their assigned quarters. There were too many people today at the base, Yong had told them earlier. They could only have four rooms assigned to their unit, but that might change tomorrow when everyone had made up their minds on whether they’d stay or not. So, they divided into pairs with a fair game of rock, paper, scissors.

As he settled in his shared quarters, Chan’s mind couldn’t help but wander. The stone-comm hanging from his neck felt ten times heavier than usual, and the cool surface against the bare skin of his chest was almost tempting him. Should he call the Queen? But if he did, what would he say? He wasn’t sure. All the feelings that had been stirred inside him earlier remained untouched deep within his heart.

He made his way to the adjacent bathroom. Once inside, he stood in front of the sink and splashed some cold water on his face, pondering. How was he feeling, truly? Was he mad? Was he relieved? Chan couldn’t tell, and he had a feeling that talking to the Queen face to face would be the only way he could clear his doubts, preferably in a setting where he didn’t have to pretend he didn’t know her, like his own hands hadn’t touched her bare skin, like he didn’t know the happy sounds she made when she was eating something she liked, like he didn’t lov–

“I think I’m going to Seungmin and Changbin’s room. They said we could play cards”, Jeongin’s voice brought Chan back from his thoughts, rather violently, like he’d forgotten Jeongin was there in the first place. He stared at the younger man with wide eyes, frozen at the entrance of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Worry laced Jeongin’s words while he looked at his captain’s face.

“I’m…” Chan looked at Jeongin for a moment, and eventually forced out a laugh. “I’m alright, just a lot of things on my mind”.

Jeongin hummed. “You wanna come?”

Chan fully stepped out of the bathroom, and started to take out the cold weapons he’d hidden under his clothes so he could drop them on the desk by his bed. “Where?”

“To play cards? At Seungmin and Changbin’s? Like I just told you two seconds ago?” Jeongin’s eyes narrowed, squinting at Chan.

“Ah, no”, Chan waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m just tired. I just… need to be by myself for a while”, he was honest, so his friend clearly didn’t feel the need to question him any further.

��Alright… But if you do feel like having some company, you know where we’ll be”, a genuine smile crossed Jeongin’s features, just before he stepped out of the room, and the sliding door closed quietly behind him.

Chan let out a tired sigh, plopping himself on his bed, with his feet hanging from the edge since he was too lazy to remove his boots. Flinging an arm over his eyes, he laid there in silence. Or, in partial silence, since noise and unintelligible thoughts roamed freely in his mind, accompanied by the familiar humming in his ears

He didn’t think he was necessarily upset, really. He mostly felt… confused. But, at the same time, a lot of things started to make sense to him. Her random disappearances, her hesitancy whenever they spoke about the Alliance or Dall…

An incredulous laugh bubbled over from his lips when he realised that her five day trip months ago when he was still in Lira Le was probably just her going with her guards to rescue Jaebum’s unit members from their captors. It was… a lot to think about.

Chris…

His body jolted at the Queen’s voice suddenly making its way into his noisy thoughts. The usual feeling of excitement he felt whenever he heard her was now mixed with something else. Sadness? Joy? Nervousness? He didn’t know what that something was, but that didn’t stop him from laying his palm flat on his chest, right on top of the stone-comm resting under his shirt.

“Tell me”, his tone was level, but his heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest.

Should you wish to talk… I’m on the third floor of the facility. There’s a room in the corridor that’s right past the wall clock… You can find me here.

Author’s Note x2: i know it was like, super obvious hahha but if you're reading this, let me hear your thoughts! did you guess Dall's identity? Do you think Chan will go talk to her in private? If so, how do you think that confrontation's gonna go? Let me know, i'm curious~

Previous Chapter: Day 82. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 91.

#stray kids fantasy au #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic

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fistsoflightning · 8 months

Text

high society

ffxivwrite2023 16: JERK an unlikable, annoyingly stupid, or foolish person

lumelle & alisaie at a ball(?) historians called them best fri— 615 wc.

“Insufferable prick,” Lumelle muttered into her glass only moments after the son of a house more minor than hers had skulked away, only to frown when she realized it was empty. “I swear, none of these house heirs understand the words ‘not interested’ unless they’re the ones saying it. ‘Oh, I’ll break your foot with my heel if you keep asking’ is too unbecoming of a lady my arse. What else could I have said short of ‘piss off’? Almost makes me miss Sharlayan.”

Next to her, Alisaie brought her hand up to cover her mouth so quickly Lumelle thought she was choking on her pastry. Then she realized it was because Alisaie was trying not to laugh in a shower of crumbs and embarrass herself before a good portion of Ishgard’s upper class, which was just as worrisome but for seperate, more personally embarrassing reasons.

Lumelle’s frown turned into a pout as she stepped closer to her date for the night and said, quiet enough for only her to hear: “Alisaie, I will steal your pastry if you keep laughing at me. It wasn’t that funny!”

Alisaie’s muffled laughter didn’t stop or lessen, but she did offer Lumelle the remaining half of her rolanberry tart, which rendered Lumelle’s threat rather pointless. She took the peace offering anyways and bit into it while Alisaie found a glass of water to down and gathered herself enough to look Lumelle in the eyes without her stifled giggles returning anew—she was still pouting, but now because Alisaie seemed to find it impossibly hilarious in contrast to her otherwise put-together outfit and appearance.

There was little else Lumelle found more dreadful than an Ishgardian ball-party-soiree or whatever they were calling this one, but at least she was in good company that she’d trade for no hand nor title, and in no shortage of good dessert.

“Gods, your face,” Alisaie said finally after her third tiny cup of water stolen off some baffled waiter’s tray. “Do you know how hard it was not to laugh in the middle of your conversation with that man? You looked like you were trying to be brave about having bit into a lemon.”

Lumelle’s brows shot up past her bangs, her eyes wide. “Was it that bad?”

“Not bad enough to get the point into his head by looks alone. I’m certain I only noticed because I know you.” Alisaie leaned closer, the skirt of her dress brushing against Lumelle’s fingers. “Anyways, how long did Auphine say we should stay for?”

There wasn’t a chronometer visible from where they were on the floor, but Elwin had slipped something into her pockets before they’d left the manor. Lumelle looked for it now, feeling the brush of warmed metal in her pants pocket, and found a small pocketwatch engraved with roses and lilies in her hand. The button let off a small click as she opened it.

“Another bell and a half,” she said, tilting the watch in her hand to show to Alisaie when she leaned over with a grimace. “I’m sure I could manage the last bit if you want to make your escape now.”

“Don’t be silly.” Alisaie flicked Lumelle’s forehead lightly. “I said I’d stay by your side, so I will.”

“If I recall, that was meant in a ‘I’m not letting you run headlong into danger alone again’ kinda way.”

“And I remember you saying that Ishgard was more dangerous to you than half the wildlife in Aldenard, once.”

Far be it for her to put up an unsightly resistance, if Alisaie was so determined. “They’re like sharks,” Lumelle said, reaching for Alisaie’s hand to twine their pinky fingers together.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #alisaie leveilleur #c: lumelle de lipine #s: all that we hold dear #elie writes #theyre gay your honor

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chiwhorei · 3 years

Text

𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐚

✞𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧✞

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Dark Content, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3,175 [Link to Ao3]

Tags: Darkfic, sacrelige, coercion, corruption, dubcon and noncon elements, intonations and parallels to incest, but not actual incest (ie. ‘Father’ Shouta), choking, age-gap, oral, Priest!Aizawa, Virgin!Reader

From Chiwhorei: Aizawa is where this all started, so it’s fitting he is the subject of my anniversary fic. To everyone who’s followed me along this journey despite the long bouts of radio silence, to everyone that’s participated and supported this collab, to all of my lovely, devious friends— truly, completely, thank you for this past year. Xoxo.

The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.

** ** **

There’s not a soul awake this late.

The rosary wrapped between twitching fingers feels like a hot lashing against the skin. The glass and metal itch in your hold, the devotional was a gift for your confirmation-- it holds a decade of sins.

Your family has been asleep for hours now. Slipping through the back door as soon as you’re sure. Nineteen. A legal adult. Yet the only way to leave in the middle of the night is in secret. The cool, summer air hits your cheeks, it’s still for a moment. It’s so quiet, you feel like you’ve mistaken the real world for a snow globe. Static— in the moments after all of the glitter settles, all of the quiet, iridescent tears laying at your feet. It waits, patiently, until someone comes by to shake it again.

Moving into a cramped dorm room a few hours away, your childhood home feels bigger every visit. It’s bigger because nothing fills the space inside. There’s nothing but tense words and the clatter of silverware against dinner plates. Your father reminds you of an old briefcase— stern, rigid leather, unmistakably empty; your mother’s rose garden smells like poisoned wine.

Roses and leather, the combination suffocating enough to repel you in the hours you should be unconscious.

The walk from your parent’s house to the church is the most familiar thing in the world. Down to the cracks on the sidewalk and mossy steps leading up to a set of large, cherry doors. So routine it almost feels good for you.

There’s not a soul awake this late, you decide, that must be why you’re here.

That must be why he’s up too.

Pushing open one ornate door just enough to peek inside, you’re met with that distinct waft of incense and dusty missals. It smells like every Sunday morning and Easter Vigil, it smells like home.

Only votive candles light the space around you, flickering with intentions from fellow parishioners. You wonder if there’s one burning for you.

You know where to find Father Shouta, and suspect he’s waiting. He can trace every step from your parents home to the front gate. You open the confessional booth and crawl inside, the wooden space around you is cramped. It smells like incense masking cigarettes. Kneeling into the leather cushion, you face the screen partition.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was,” the memory has you falter, “three months ago.”

You remember the last hollow confession like it was yesterday. You were back in town for spring break. After mass that Sunday, your dad told Father Shouta how deplorable it was that your friends had tried, in vain, to drag you to the beach a few hours away from campus. “A week of drinking and sex, not for my daughter.”

Shouta met with you that evening and you cried your sins to him. How you had been dared to kiss boys at a party during midterms week, how you drank who-knows-what mixed with cheap beer at a frat house. He consoled you then, he told you that God will forgive all transgressions. “Even the sins of a whore.”

The memory makes you want to cry all over again. Yet, here you are— knees pressed to the very same leather, face against the same dusty screen.

He’s so still, so quiet, you jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, “What is it that you’d like to confess, my child?”

Your body aches, stiff and tense to the bone. You breathe in, shallow and suffocated, before you speak again.

“Father, forgive me I—” you can tell his posture is just as rigid, he’s only a shadowed outline and the slightest glimmer of color from his eyes. They warn you, but you ignore the familiar feeling on the back of your neck.

“I have been having impure thoughts. I’ve been thinking about a man,” one more deep breath in an attempt to keep your voice neutral, “a much older man.”

If you could hear a smile, Father’s creaks like floorboards.

His silence prompts you to continue, you knot your fingers together and hold them against your stomach, the Rosary tangled in between threatening to cut off circulation.

“The boys in my youth group, the ones in my classes— they’re all nice but,” you leave the second half of the sentence to rattle around in your mind, “but they aren’t you.”

“Impure thoughts are one thing, sinful, but,” his voice is indifferent, cold, “the true sins are ones of the flesh.”

“I- I haven’t,” you start to stutter, trying to defend yourself, “I haven’t done anything, Father.”

Despite himself, he laughs.

“It’s true Father,” you wonder why you hadn’t just stayed at home, “I’ve only ever kissed a boy— it wasn’t even a real kiss. I’m still a virgin.”

From the screen, you can only see him in fragments. Little cutouts of a dark figure and sickeningly bright red eyes. The color peaks through like pieces of a puzzle, chasing through the patterned wood before you can catch that he’s stepping out of his side of the confessional booth.

“It wasn’t a ‘real’ kiss,” each word is mimicked, emphasized by the tap of his shoes against the tiles below, “no, of course it wasn’t. Not with some boy.” Your legs are unsteady as you stand from the kneeler. There’s nowhere to hide, Father has you trapped in a toy box. Just for him to play with.

“Of course that wouldn’t have satisfied you.”

The door to your side of the booth creeks open just as your back hits the wall. You can see his face for the first time in months, you trace the features illuminated with candlelight. Father Shouta’s face is strong, even more sharp with his long, black hair tied back. His presence looms over where you’re sunken into the booth. Even standing and puffing out your chest, he’ll still be able to look down at you.

He bares his teeth. You know this by now, stupid little girl, you know he likes to play with his food.

Long fingers grip the small door frame and curl around the wood like an omen, his body slithers into your personal space until he’s only an inch away.

“Lust, greed, what is it that you want?” Each vowel cradles a hearty dose of poison, the consonants bite away and spit you out. Your skin feels raw under his attention, “You can’t atone for sins you’re not really sorry for.”

Those same fingers slide up either curve of your neck, he crawls from shoulder to jaw, slowly. So slowly it seems like he’s trying not to get caught. He holds steady against your skin, thumb rubbing lightly at your bottom lip. You must have just fallen asleep after your parents went to bed, that stale, poisoned house even lulling the restless. You must be dreaming right now.

“Don’t make me ask again.” His timber hits the three walls and brings you back to the present. There’s no rest for you, only a weak answer to his question. What is it that you want?

“I want to be a humble servant of our Lord.” Your voice shakes, battered against your throat on its way to meet the stiff air.

Father’s lips are on you, he traces the words of Luke over your trembling mouth, there’s only a breath of space between you,

“No one can serve two masters. For you will hate one and love the other; you will be devoted to one and despise the other,”

The hands holding your cheeks move down to circle your neck, each long finger lays a trap. He tightens around the skin, just enough to make you forget how it feels to breathe freely. He could do anything to you right now, and your cries for help would be swallowed by stained glass.

No one can serve two masters.

The scream caught in your throat meets his wicked smile, it fizzles into little more than a whimper. The small booth you’ve been trapped in is burning hot, you feel sweat beading on your forehead. The last ounce of courage, of restraint, tumbles out before you can catch it.

“Who do you serve, Father Shouta? God or the Devil?”

He answers you with a thick tongue finally pushing into your mouth. He smells like perfumed oils and votive candles, he tastes like sugar free gum and Seven Stars.

His grip around your neck is the only thing keeping you on your feet, you’re sure if he were to let go you’d melt into the floor below. Father’s lips against yours are a siren, dulling all other senses, rendering you malleable to his will. Whatever his will may be, whatever it is that he wants from you— you’d let him have it anyway.

He breaks away, the kiss that’s felt like hours disappears far too soon. Your body jolts forward of its own volition, trying to connect yourself to him again. You’re sure you look desperate, but you’re too intoxicated to care.

“I serve only myself.”

Father lets go of your neck and you’re allowed the first deep intake of breath you’ve had since walking into the church. You swallow hard, looking back up to him. He scares you, he always has, but that fear draws you towards him.

Does a moth know what the flame will do to it? Does the moth know their fate?

You feel like crying, really crying, but all that comes out are a few frustrated tears. Father leans over you once more, eyes trailing the tear waxing over your cheek, “You’re a wretched little girl.”

Is that why they fly towards fire, because they like the burn?

** ** **

You step forward in line, it’s almost your turn. Mother first, she’s always thought of Father Aizawa as such a “charming young man''. The notion always made you scoff, in reality he’s only a few years younger than your parents.

Your dad is behind you, he’ll give him a friendly handshake after the service and remark how beautiful the homily was. Today, he spoke of the devil tempting Jesus. You hung on every word.

Mother steps aside and makes the sign of the cross, you’re next. A sheep guided by the dutiful shepherd, a lamb onto his slaughter.

Your chin tilts upwards, eyes locked onto your part-time captor. He only has you for a few seconds this time, but his attention is a hallway— every door is a pitfall. Aizawa’s gaze turns red when he looks upon you again— a bright, bloody, captivating red. You’ve convinced yourself it’s a trick of the light. But you see them in the dark too.

“The Body of Christ,” his voice is a welcome mat in front of an asylum, holding out the wafer and obscuring one painfully beautiful eye.

“Amen.” You know you’re part, but you can’t hear your own voice.

Father watches as your eyes close and your mouth opens, a quiet obedience, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Your fingers tingle with how tight you’re holding them together.

He places the Body to your awaiting tongue. It tastes like a harsh nothing that will stick to the back of your throat for the rest of mass. You take Christ in pieces, letting it start to melt into the roof of your mouth.

Shouta brushes your bottom lip before retracting. It’s subtle, an accident— the smallest touch of chilling skin. No one notices, the earth doesn’t stop on its axis for anyone else. You step aside and follow your Mother back to the wooden pews like nothing out of the ordinary stirs in your heart.

You feel Father’s eyes on the back of your skirt. They feel red.

“Your sweet girl here has offered a helping hand getting prepared for a youth retreat the church is hosting next week.” After mass, the stop to shake Father’s hand is inevitable, a pleasantry every parishioner makes time for before shuffling out for Sunday brunch.

He speaks over your quiet, “Good morning, Father Shouta,” right as your family turns to leave, almost as if he had been mulling over whether or not it was worth a mention. He regards them with a veiled casualty, never once looking at you.

Father’s face is kind when he wants it to be, laying a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades, it's a feeling of comfort you can’t help but lean into, “We’re discussing how to remain chaste in a sinful world.”

The word ‘chaste’ is pinched into your spine and despite yourself, you smile. A heavy heart has found home at the bottom of your stomach, but you can’t let on to the sick churning in your gut. Your parents gleam with pride for their daughter. A perfect example of a good Catholic girl.

“I’ll have her meet at my office this evening, is six okay?” His question sounds like your dowry, talking past you and asking for your parents permission.

Your dad shakes Father Shout’s hand once more, delighted at how his diligent parenting must be the reason you’ve found yourself in holy favor. Said ‘parenting’ is definitely to blame, but not in the way your dad assumes.

*** *** ***

The walk through church and into the sacristy is like a meditation in fear, every step begging you to turn back, to run home like a scared child. You tread steady, feet searing on hot coals until you’re met with the sound of Father Shouta just beyond the threshold.

“You’re late.” Something sinister fills Father’s quarters as soon as you open the door. It’s scary how offhandedly he can lie. You’re at least ten minutes early, the evening toll of church bells will signal the hour. He wants to see if you’ll stutter, if you’ll argue. You stay quiet, busying your hands with the hem of your skirt, fingers lifting it slightly before you remember who owns the eyes sitting across the room. They look golden from here, a honey you could drown in. You cough at the feeling of sugar in your lungs before collecting yourself and awaiting instruction.

Seemingly pleased with your docility, he smiles wide and crooked. It’s bound into a book he will whisper into you page by page. It’s written in a language only he knows.

Shouta motions you farther inside, leaning back in his seat. He corrects you when you move to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk, waiting with little patience as you settle against his side instead. Your posture is stiff being this close, being this alone.

His facial hair is trimmed neatly, small scars litter his face, the most pronounced a jagged trail under his right eye. From the dim evening light, you see a shadow of loose hairs make a pointed crown around his head.

“St. Teresa of Avila,” Father starts, tapping his fingers against a small stack of papers, “what do you know of her?”

You’re disarmed, the question seems so innocent-- not a note of ulterior motive detectible. Even so, your guard remains high. His intentions need no subtext.

“St. Teresa of Avila, the patron saint of headache sufferers,” you’re struggling to see the point, but Father prompts you to continue, “she was a Spanish nun, she wrote about a prayerful life,”

After another moment of measured silence, you grow even more tense, “Father Shouta, forgive me, I don’t understand,”

You’re hushed with a laugh, the small collection of papers placed in your hands. The first leaf is titled with large letters, “The Life of Teresa of Jesus.”

“I’d like you to read the section I’ve highlighted.”

You shake, thumbing through until you find a block of text traced in bright yellow. You scan its contents, but are quickly interrupted by Shouta’s next request.

“Out loud.”

There’s no escaping the toy box.

His stare is unwavering, giving you no room for objection. They’re not soft like honey anymore, Father Shouta’s eye’s are harsh, bloody gemstones.

You know better than to keep him waiting, adjusting in your half sat position on the side of his desk, you begin reading with hoarse inflection, “In his hands I saw a long golden spear, and at the end of the iron tip I seemed to see a point of fire. With this he seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails.”

Wincing, the words sound like a stranger in your ears. After every sentence, Shouta’s fingertips inch closer to the end of your skirt, right above the knee. You’d be stoned for this kind of hemline at home, but with Father it seems to be exactly the sacred skin he wanted to see.

His hands move, unwavering, as you continue with the annotated paragraph, “When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire with a great love of God.” Fingers stop their gentle assault before adding pressure to your inner thigh, he peels apart your legs with a wordless prompting to keep going.

“The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.”

By the last several words, Father Shouta’s lips are centered in between your open thighs, you feel tears frozen in the duct. You want to pull away, to escape, but his lips hold something you’ve never been this close to.

“Piety is a virtue,” you can feel the hot breath against your most intimate planes of flesh, “but our God is one of pleasure too.”

His kiss feels like branding. An aimless, confused lamb seared with the mark of its owner.

You cry out, loud and broken, when his mouth meets the cotton covering your pussy. Shouta uses his pointer and middle finger to move the fabric away.

No one has ever seen these parts of you, kept locked away for your future husband until now, sitting in the heart of your family's church, writhing from even the slightest touch.Hips buck of their own accord, and you’re granted one last open-mouthed lave against your twitching cunt. His tongue peaks out slightly to catch your clit before pulling away.

You move as if possessed, falling to your knees in front of your Father. Your mouth opens, that same quiet obedience, and his finger brushes your lower lip again. “No one” you think, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of fingers wrapped into the back of your hair, “no one can serve two masters.”

“Body and soul, you’re mine.”

But there’s not a soul left in sight.

✞ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞: All writing is chiwhorei’s original content, please do not repost or modify. Do no read my content as asmr. Do not recommend me on TikTok.©️

#aizawa smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x reader smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader smut #heavenly bodies collab #chiwhorei.bnha #chiwhorei.fics #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #tw: sacrilegious #tw: corruption #tw: age gap #tw: darkfic

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fics-by-caroline · 3 years

Text

Bloodlust

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Magical!Reader

Summary: You and Loki are part of the Avengers, but the pair of you have different ideas of what justice entails than the rest of the group; i.e., more horror, more drama, an eye for an eye. And man, do you two ever look sexy covered in blood.

Category: Smut (18+ only, please!)

Warnings: Smut (blood kink, oral sex -- f receiving), rough sex, porn with some plot), language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, smoking, alcohol consumption, mention of human trafficking.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, so please be nice 🥺

Taking a drag from a cigar in the corner of the dimly-lit speakeasy, your target looked you up and down. Even without tapping into his thoughts, you could tell that he liked what he saw; how the black dress you wore hugged your figure, how you had crossed your legs in a way that allowed him to catch the red bottoms of your heels, red that was reflected in your lipstick and nails. You turned to make eye contact with him, and were immediately hit with hearing him imagine you on your knees sucking him off in one of his fancy cars and afterwards kicking you out onto the street.

Typical, You thought with disgust, finishing your martini. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Feeling him get up and walk towards you, you shot a knowing look at Loki across the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The man’s voice was dripping in disgusting salaciousness. He sat beside you, reeking of the over-application of cologne, whiskey, and cigar smoke.

You shot him a demure smile. “A dirty martini, drier than the Sahara.”

The man waved down the bartender before leaning closer to you. “Michael Ashbourne.”

You suppressed an eye roll, taking instead to lighting a cigarette. “I know who you are, Mr. Ashbourne.”

“And what is it that you know of me?” Ashbourne stroked your hair with a drunken finger.

Uncrossing your legs, you turned to face him. “That you are one of the worst Midgardian men alive today. You cheat people out of their winnings in various casinos around the world, making yourself and your friends — no doubt the ones who surrounded you in that corner over there — some of the richest men in the world, while managing to operate under the radars of your enemy governments. You sell weapons and drugs because you always want even more money on top of the billions you already have, not caring about the damage you cause. You drink the most expensive liquors, sleep with all the women you please, and leave people eating the dust in your wake. But what brings you to the epitome of disgusting actions is your engagement in the trafficking of girls, once again, for even more money.” Even though you kept your voice low, you made sure to lace every word with biting poison.

Ashbourne pulled back in shock, unmoving and speechless.

You smirked at his silence. “Your cunningness is almost impressive, especially for a human. You manage to remain one step ahead of the mewling mortals who are left to crawl in your fading footprints. Bravo. Unfortunately for you, however, I am not one of them.” You waved a finger, from which a small ribbon of white magic followed.

“Who the hell are you?” Ashbourne hissed.

“A hero in the eyes of the people you have crossed, and the villain in yours.”

Ashbourne scoffed condescendingly. Stupid bitch, you heard him think. “Speaking in mysterious riddles just makes you look stupid, missy. I don’t know how you know what you know, but it’s a bit too much for my liking.” He raised a hand, beckoning over the large men who had accompanied him.

You sighed, unimpressed. Before they could so much as reach for their belt, you pulled the pistol from your garter stockings and fired silenced shots in between their eyes, before holding a dagger against Ashbourne’s throat. The speakeasy froze in horrified silence.

With a small chuckle at the sudden shock and fear in Ashbourne’s muddy eyes, you called to Loki. “Darling, are there others?”

“No darling, not here … but we can’t have witnesses, can we?” Loki sauntered up to you, kissing you on the head. He looked around at the few bystanders in the bar, terror keeping their feet rooted in place.

“Loki, is that really necessary —”

You were cut off by Loki launching towards the horrified bystanders like a cat pouncing on prey, his daggers slicing through their necks gliding ease. He finished off by throwing a knife into the bartender’s skull, silencing his terrorized mind that shrieked in your own so annoyingly. Loki looked back at you with an amused glint in his eyes, blood on every surface of the speakeasy, including Loki’s own body. Gesturing around him, he noted dryly, “They were dead in seconds, no suffering.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Ashbourne, who sat with eyes wide and mouth agape. You smirked and applied a bit more pressure to the blade in your hand, drawing small beads of blood. You snuffed out your cigarette and stood up, toying with his bowtie as your heel dug into his foot. You could taste the fear that drenched his mind. “What’s this?” You cooed. “Feeling scared?”

“Ah, you’re so right, my love,” Loki smiled, looking around the room at the bloody mess he created. “Not using magic is so much more fun. I missed getting my hands dirty.”

You chuckled lowly. You couldn’t help but stare at him hungrily; there was something in the way the blood splatter stood out against his pale skin that awoke an arousal in you. Shaking your head, you turned back to the man under your knife and cocked an eyebrow. “How do you think I should do this? Stabbing is too classic, going for the neck is too neat.”

“Unzip him, dear,” Loki hummed. He shot a bolt of green magic towards the man, binding him in glowing ropes that wrapped around his pitiful body. Noticing your dry look, he shrugged. “I want a proper view of your handiwork, and I can’t have that if I’m holding him.”

“Fair enough,” You said. After a moment’s thought, you waved your hands, making Ashbourne’s shirt disappear in a white flash of your own magic.

“Wait, wait, stop. What do you want? Money? I have money. What do you want?” Ashbourne pleaded.

“I want ...” you said coldly, “to hear you scream.”

You stepped forward and sunk your dagger into his lower abdomen, slicing upwards smoothy, careful as to not sever any major blood vessels. Ashbourne screamed in agony — music to both yours and Loki’s ears. You grinned at the blood that spurted out to meet you, and tossed the dagger onto the surface of the bar. You looked at the open mess in front of you and sunk your hand into the open cavity, making Ashbourne wail.

Loki smacked Ashbourne’s face with a deadly glare. “Stay awake, you.”

You reached farther into Ashbourne’s gut, quickly finding the pulsating aorta. You looked up at Ashbourne’s paling face, cheek now sporting a bloody handprint from where Loki had slapped him, and pulled on the artery, which snapped and spurted hot blood all over you. Loki released his magic binds, leaving the body of the man to collapse like a rag doll onto the floor, very much dead.

You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as you discarded the shred of aorta in your hands onto the lifeless body. You turned to look at Loki, who was smiling back at you with a familiar, blazing fire behind his eyes. He reached over and picked up your discarded dagger from the tabletop. He looked it over once, then swiped his tongue up one side of the blade. You groaned in arousal at the sight.

“The taste of justice, my dear,” He said, licking his lips.

He turned his fiery gaze back on you, holding the knife out for your taking. Without breaking eye contact, you licked up the other side, the metallic taste of Ashbourne’s blood spreading through your mouth only adding to the wet ache between your legs.

“Fucking hell,” Loki breathed, the large bulge in his dress trousers clearly evident.

You took the dagger, swiping away the rest of the blood that stained it on your finger and licked it clean. A deep rumble escaped from Loki’s lips before he smashed his lips onto yours, your tongues trading the tastes of blood and saliva. With a sharp tug, Loki tore your dress down and pinched your nipples between his bloodied fingers as he backed you up onto the bar. While normally, he would take his time with you, tease you at a torturously slow pace, make you plead and squirm beneath him, he now was fuelled purely by an animalistic flame, his lips and teeth marking your lips, jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones. You broke apart only for you to render the pair of you naked by way of a flick of the wrist and a flash of white light. You stared at each other, both of you breathless and admiring how the blood that drenched your clothing had stained your bodies in a beautiful pattern of death.

“I love you so much,” You whispered.

“I love you too,” Loki said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip lightly.

In a flash, the momentary gentleness was gone as Loki pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them. You shouted out in pleasure, then gasped when you felt Loki’s tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, Loki!” You hissed, throwing your head back and grinding deeper onto Loki’s fingers and tongue.

The most audacious and obscene sounds filled the speakeasy as Loki twisted his fingers inside your cunt and attacked you with his mouth. You moaned unabashedly and Loki in return groaned against your body. His nips against your clit were anything but gentle, his fingers fucking your cunt so deeply, so gloriously, that your entire body sparked with invisible electricity.

“You’re going to cum for me,” Loki growled, “you’re going to cum for me and make me drink it as you do.”

You nodded into the air, gasping, panting, writhing under him. You clenched around his head, locking Loki into place, and came on his face, rolling and thrusting your hips against his mouth. Loki held your hips and drank your release until your orgasm finally finished washing over you.

Before you could begin to catch your breath, Loki seized your neck in one large hand and pushed himself inside of you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan loudly. He started moving his hips immediately at a quick and relentless pace, splitting you apart in pleasure. You reached up to wrap your arms and legs around him desperately. As he hit that sweet spot that no other could, you brought your nails down his back, no doubt drawing blood. All thoughts had disappeared from your minds, pure animalistic pleasure and arousal clearing everything else out. Your combined energy made the lights spark and flicker, furniture going flying as your grip on your magic became weaker. Loki slammed into you, your walls tight around him, his pelvis grinding in such a way that he moved against your clit. You were only barely registering how you clung onto him for dear life, the most indecent noises pouring from both of your mouths, bodies slick in blood and sweat sliding against one another. Your connection into each other’s minds let you both know that the other was just as close to their climax without speaking. Expletives punctuated your shared groans and screams, Loki’s grip on your body so tight that bruises were sure to follow, your teeth and nails marking his skin.

“Loki, I — fuck — Loki!” You cried as you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably.

“I know, I — ah! I know —!” Loki groaned, biting your neck.

You exploded again with a scream and you slammed your hand onto the table, releasing a huge pulse of magic that levelled the room around you. Green explosions set off around you as Loki lost control and spilled into you with a stammering thrust and deep groan. Even though your eyes were both closed, you could see each other in your minds, totally blissful and exhausted, chests heaving. Loki’s lips found yours in a loving kiss.

“We should ... we should clean up here before the others come by,” You said, still out of breath.

Loki nodded wordlessly. He pulled out of you, causing you to whimper. We waved his hand, and the speakeasy righted itself in a glow of green light. Tables and chairs fixed themselves, light fixtures hung back up on the ceilings, blood and bodies disappeared, until the only remnant of your activities was the gore that still covered your naked bodies. You stood up and cricked your neck before cleaning yourself and Loki up, and dressing the pair of you in the dress and tuxedo you two were wearing.

“What will we say to the others when they ask about the sudden disappearance of everyone here?” You asked slowly.

“Don’t worry, love,” Loki grinned, “we can tell them the truth. We’re both too valuable for them to kick us out of the group.”

You laughed and took Loki’s outstretched arm, walking out into the cool night.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki smut #loki oneshot #smut #mcu #mcu fanfiction #smut fanfiction #smut fic

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demonsandmischief · 3 years

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You Saved My Life

Marvel - Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader, 1.7k Words

-You Saved My Life-

Imagine you save Captain America's life while he is trying to save yours.

A/N: I dunno when this would take place in the Marvel world. I guess you could say it's my own AU. It's a long one but I like it. I hope you do too.

----

There are a lot of things life prepares you for, but the end of the world is not one of them.

You were covering your best friend's shift at a cafe that she owned. You had a full time job as a teacher, but the school was on a holiday, and you were always willing to help your friend. Normally, she'd have managers do the day to day runnings, but there was a scheduling conflict that lined up perfectly with your free day.

You did love the little place. It was small and home-y, nestled between some larger buildings of the city.

It was after the lunch rush when it happened. You were wiping down menus when a large blast that felt like an earthquake rattled the whole shop. The glass door shattered with the impact.

That's when the screaming started. It was loud and chaotic, as throngs of people ran away from whatever had just exploded.

The customers that were in the cafe rushed out in a panic. They could see something out of the large windows that you couldn't from behind the counter.

You moved closer, hesitantly, not sure what to expect, and you were definitely not prepared.

There were large, robotic creatures wreaking havoc in every direction. You could hear their banshee like screeches that echoed in your ears, but it couldn't be louder than the intense blood rushing as your adrenaline began to flow.

Your protective, teacher instincts kicked in when you saw the young group of kids huddled in the alleyway. They were almost out of view, but you noticed. You always noticed the children. They attracted your energy naturally.

You took notice of the daycare bus still running. It looked like the driver had just abandoned them. Intense anger only fueled the instincts.

You saw the way one of the creatures eyed the group and you scrambled to grab something to defend them.

You didn't have much. You decided on a chair, thankful for your nimble frame that was able to get outside unnoticed.

The kids caught sight of you immediately, but you held a shaky finger to your lips, telling them to be quiet.

You swung the chair with all your might, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It faltered for a moment, stumbling forward. You were left with pieces of broken wood, the splintered edges digging into your skin.

"Get inside," you yelled to the group, watching them scramble. At least the robot thing was focused on you, and you prayed that each little boy and each little girl made it home tonight.

You knew you were the only person standing between the cafe and the monster, and you wouldn't go with them to safety for risk of this thing following you into the shop.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as your eyes searched for any kind of defense. Instead, you found more creatures and no help.

This thing was ugly up close. It was metallic like a robot, but had blood red eyes, eyes that were staring right at you.

It opened it's mouth to screech into the sky, a snake like tongue curling out. It was cut off by a flash of color in the haze of dirt and debris, but you recognized it immediately. Captain America's shield.

The man himself appeared, standing tall and proud, but you could tell he was winded. You had never been so relieved, as you relaxed a bit, just wanting to melt into the ground with exhaustion.

Steve yanked out his shield, giving it an expert throw, destroying the other visible creatures.

His blue eyes stood out beneath his cowl.

"Ma'am," he nodded. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," you whispered with a shake of your head, wiping your sweaty, bloody hands on your jeans. "But there's kids in there "

He nodded, repeating the information into his com device.

"We'll get them to safety, and you, too. This is no place you want to be. Every civilian has taken shelter in the metro underground. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Yes, but it's like two blocks," you said. There was no way you could get the kids there without being noticed.

"I'll go with you then, but we need to move quickly. Let's go." He left no room for argument, so you entered the cafe to gather the huddled group.

Their fear struck you, wide eyes and silent sobs. There were probably twenty of them, all different ages. The youngest was probably about six.

"Captain America is going to get you guys somewhere safe," you told them, as reassuring as possible, even though you didn't feel that way.

You led the group as the captain guarded the back. The pace was quick, and eerily quiet. You imagined the tall man had warned the other Avengers to keep the area as clear as possible. You had caught a brief glimmer of Iron Man's metallic suit in the sky.

You had just ushered the kids down the stalled escalator and into safety when you heard a grunt of pain.

You turned to find six more of the robotic creatures surrounding Cap. You could tell he was wearing down as one of them pulled his arms back, rendering him powerless and unable to grab his shield. He kicked the things with all his might, but there were too many of them.

You didn't know what to do. You were exhausted and there was no way you could help. You couldn't even take out one by yourself with a chair.

It wasn't until one of the creatures pulled out a long dagger looking thing, already dripping with someone else's blood that you moved.

Your instincts didn't let you hesitate as you ran to tackle the thing, the knife in turn digging painfully in your upper shoulder, dangerously close to your neck.

You felt the cry leave your dry, cracked lips as you crumbled to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.

You heard the creature snarl at you before you felt a jolt of hot pain in your ribs. It felt like a boot, but who knows.

Your vision doubled as you saw the metallic shield take out the group once more. You sagged in the rubble as the adrenaline left your body. It felt like buckets of blood were running from your shoulder down the curve of your breast, mixing with the pain in your ribs. You were certain death couldn't be much worse then this.

Steve couldn't believe you saved his life. He was foolish to let his guard down, but you were a distraction. You protected those kids with a fearlessness that reminded him of himself.

He heard over coms that Tony had found the source for these creatures and the fight was coming to a close. He wished he could have been there for his team, but the people came first, especially those kids.

He pressed a hand to your shoulder, cursing when he saw how much blood you were losing. He searched aimlessly for something to stop the blood.

"Your six, Captain," you manage to mutter throught the pain, not failing to notice the final of the robotic things sneaking up on the distracted man.

He kicked a stray car door effortlessly, squashing the creature against the brick building.

"We're going to get you help. You're going to be okay."

That was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

----

There was a pesky beeping that was disturbing your rest. You assumed it was your alarm, until the pain hit you full force, and you remembered the events that took place. Were you dead?

Your eyes opened, and you groaned at the harsh light, blinking rapidly to adjust. Your mouth felt like it was full of sand.

The sterile smell and blinding white walls immediately told you it was a hospital, but what stood out was the dozing man still dirty from battle. His blue suit stood out against the white.

His eyes opened when you stirred, and you noticed the blue eyes that you were beginning to like. His blonde hair was matted from the cowl, and he looked terribly uncomfortable in the small chair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his deep voice much softer than the commanding tone he used as captain.

You struggled to sit up. The pain in your shoulder not allowed you to use your hand as leverage, and your ribs didn't like the jostle.

"Don't do that," he said, lightly using his hand to keep you from moving. He pushed the button on the side that allowed the bed to lift without you having to change position.

He helped you drink some water before you were finally able to respond.

"How long have I been out?" you ask.

"Just a few hours," Steve responded. "You saved my life, and those kids, too." He shook his head in disbelief.

You felt your face grow hot at his words, not knowing how to respond. "I'm sure you are exhausted. You didn't have to stay."

"I had to make sure you were okay," he admitted. "I'm Steve."

"Y/N." You tried to smile at his cute pleasantries, but winced at the persistent throbbing in your shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"I'm sure a tough girl like you can handle it. The doctor should be in here in a minute to tell you details," he answered.

The doctor told you that your ribs were broken and your stab wound was deep but no longer life threatening after they stopped the blood. It was going to take a while to recover.

You dozed off, and it must have been a long time because when you awoke the second time, the room was covered in flowers. A stack of cards sat on your table, and you rose the bed again to reach for them.

A swell of happy emotions built up inside of you as you read the sweet words of the kids you saved. It was so relieving to know they were okay.

"You're a hero," Steve said from the door, this time in jeans and a blue jacket. He was handsome.

You wiped the fallen tears off of your cheek. "I'm nothing but a teacher."

"You're a hero to me," he smiled slightly, and a warm feeling bloomed in your chest.

----

Here's Pt. 2

#captain america imagine #captain america #steve rogers fluff #captain america x reader #captain America x you #iron man #avengers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #marvel

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

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Lay Me Down (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, again! We have reached the endgame, as in we have reached Endgame in the timeline. Loosely inspired by Sam Smith’s “Lay Me Down”. Pieces from the film are used, but definitely have adjustments to fit the story. Let me know your thoughts!

Summary: How will the events of Endgame play out for Y/n and Wanda?

“Can I lay by your side, next to you? And make sure you're alright, I'll take care of you. I don't want to be here if I can't be with you.”

It felt as though everything went dark for just a moment and almost immediately you were back. The first sight that greeted you when you opened your eyes was a man in a cape, much to your disappointment. You would have much rather been greeted by a certain green-eyed woman who held your heart. The man urgently informed you that you all had been gone for five years, erased from existence by Thanos. The idea was so troubling that you almost didn’t believe him, but something within you knew it to be true. You had felt it in your final moments in Wanda’s arms before you faded away.

Wanda. She was the first thought to enter your mind. Had she existed the last five years on her own? Was she erased from existence with you? Was she okay? The last thought struck fear into your heart. You wouldn’t know what to do if she wasn’t.

There was very little time for processing though since the man, who said his name was Stephen Strange, told you it was time to fight again. If you all didn’t act quick, Thanos would be sure to succeed in his wicked plan again. This required everyone, and you didn’t hesitate to agree when Strange opened a portal for you to enter through.

The portal that Strange created for you opened into a bleak field, and as far as the eye could see were waves upon waves of Thanos’ army. Thousands of them. There was one thing that gave you hope though. One thing that made you believe that the battle wasn’t lost yet and that was seeing countless members of the Avengers step out of similar portals. Despite the myriad of people stepping out of various portals there was no sign of Wanda which caused anxiety to bloom in your chest. Unfortunately, you weren’t given much more time to look for her as the members of Thanos’ army appeared to push forward eagerly.

You knew that your main focus should have been preventing Thanos from erasing half of humanity again, but you couldn’t help the fact that Wanda was the one thing at the forefront of your mind. She always would be. The heartbroken look on her face as you faded away was burned into your memory. You needed to find her, and you needed to find her now. You needed to see for yourself that she was okay.

You didn’t care if you had to tear Thanos apart with your bare hands to do so.

When Thanos’ army began to push forward even more, you got into a defensive stance, everyone around you doing the same. A unifying sense of determination was heavily present around each of you. Losing was not an option this time.

The sound of a familiar voice caught your attention. As you glanced over you took in the sight of Steve who looked worse for wear but okay overall. Breathing, and that was what mattered. A sense of relief washed over you because at least you knew that he was okay. “Avengers,” he called and reached a hand out, your eyebrows quirking in surprise as he summoned mjölnir. “Assemble.” He finished assertively as each of you rushed forward, prepared to overcome any obstacle that stood in your way.

The anger that you felt at the situation made it easier to harness your powers. Anger that Thanos thought he had the right to take life, anger for the knowledge that he succeeded once already, anger for being taken from Wanda.

Looking around, you noticed that one of the bigger threats was a metal looking creature that was firing down at everyone. With a deep breath you focused your attention on the being and slowly brought your hands together, forcing the vessel to fold in on itself and rendering it useless. Smirking in satisfaction as you watched it fall to the ground.

As soon as the army noticed who destroyed the creature more of the beasts began attacking you. Dozens had surrounded you when you saw a small glimpse of red energy flash out of the corner of your eye. It was faint and in the far distance but you’d recognize it anywhere. The red energy could only mean one thing. Wanda. She was still here. Your heart pounded anxiously.

You need to get to her now.

Making quick work of the creatures that surrounded you, you began sprinting in her direction as fast as you could. As you got closer you could hear her voice over the chaos.

“You took everything from me.” Wanda gritted out through clenched teeth as her eyes glowed with a wrath you had never seen in her before. Her hands stayed at her side, glowing brightly.

Thanos stared back at her unflinchingly, “I don’t even know who you are.”

The calm in Wanda’s voice sent chills down your spine. “You will.” A moment later you watched her begin to attack Thanos and it was clear that he didn’t stand a chance against her. He didn’t stand a chance against this powerful woman who’s heart he had played a role in destroying.

You knew you couldn’t call out to her because if you did her concentration would break and she would be put at risk of Thanos overtaking her. Instead you focused on defeating his members that were coming to his aide so he would have to face her on his own.

He was destined to lose at her hands.

It seemed Thanos was aware of that as well as he called for the larger of the flying ships to begin firing down into the field to get Wanda off of him.

“Wanda!” you shouted as you saw her attempt to shield herself from the attack, only to get thrown by the force of the hit. As quickly as you could you built a barrier around her and began running in her direction. Not caring that you were leaving yourself exposed to the blasts.

The distance between you two was hastily closed as you instantly dropped to your knees at her side, pulling her in your arms and checking her for any injury. She stared up at you like she was seeing a ghost. “Y/n?” You tenderly stroked her cheek as you nodded.

When she finally processed the sight of you in her arms, life filled her eyes again as they illuminated with affection. It didn’t matter to her that you both were in the middle of horrifying battle with an evil being. All that mattered was that you were there with her. The emptiness she had felt when she saw you fade vanished and was replaced with an inconceivable amount of love.

Wanda surged forward and clung desperately to you, a choked sob escaping her lips. “I thought I lost you.” she said shakily into your neck.

You clung to her just as desperately, tears of relief falling down your cheeks at the knowledge that she was safe and, in your arms, once again. “I thought I lost you.” Came your shaky response.

Just as Wanda was about to respond another blast hit the ground right next to you and sent you both flying. You managed to hang on tightly to Wanda and land under her to lessen the impact. “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly as she pushed your hair lightly out of your face.

“You know, under any other circumstances, I would have loved to be in this position.” You said cheekily.

Wanda let out a watery laugh at your response. “I’ve missed you.” She said before connecting your lips passionately. You wrapped your arms around her waist as you eagerly pulled her closer.

Wanda pulled away a moment later. “As much as I’d love to continue, we have a battle to win.” She stood up and offered you a hand which you gladly accepted.

“To be continued?” you teasingly replied with a wiggle of your eyebrow.

Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but laugh. Falling more in love with you than before if that was even possible. This. You. It was everything she needed for the rest of her life.

“To be continued.” She confirmed.

The playful look on your face fell when you realized something. “Why did they stop shooting at us?”

Wanda tilted her head, she hadn’t noticed that until you pointed it out. Both of your gazes turned skyward as a bright beam of light crashed through the largest ship that was in the sky. “I’m guessing it has to do with that.”

“Badass.” You whispered quietly to yourself as you watched.

Wanda smirked in amusement as she took your hand. Your gaze shifted to meet the emerald eyes you cherished. “I love you.” She said adoringly.

“I love you, too.” You replied without hesitation. You’d never hesitate to say those words to her again. “Now let’s go get rid of this giant purple monster, so we can have that happy ending I promised you.” Wanda bit her lip and nodded, melting at your words. That was all she wanted. To live happily with you.

Together you began running in the direction that the gauntlet appeared to be. Only letting go when you both had to use your hands for your powers.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.” You heard Peter tell the woman who you recognized to be Carol Danvers from Fury’s stories.

Both you and Wanda landed at her side a moment later, “Don’t worry.” Wanda began confidently.

“She’s got help.” You finished with determination. All the women on the team joined together and charged fearlessly forward into the battle. You and Wanda worked together on destroying the ships and creatures in the sky while some of the other women cleared a path on the ground for Carol to transfer the gauntlet to Scott’s van.

There was only a short distance between Carol and the van when you noticed Thanos throw his weapon aiming directly towards said van. You tried to run towards it to stop the impact, using your hand to try and summon the metal within the weapon. The problem was that you noticed it a moment too late. The spear like object had already impaled the machine. The force of the explosion threw you back into a large stone, your head taking the majority of the damage.

Wanda looked over worriedly from where she was keeping a group of at least two dozen creatures at bay. You gave her a thumb up to ease her worries. She seemed reluctant but turned back to getting rid of the creatures.

When you were able to focus on the scene in front of you, you saw Carol get launched into the large rock right beside you from the force of Thanos’ hit. Shortly after Thor and Steve appeared to attempt to stop him from snapping his fingers once again. Both being removed by Thanos despite their superhuman tolerance and strength.

When you saw Thanos approach Steve who was on the floor you jumped up protectively and flicked your wrist. His feet sunk into the ground, preventing him from getting any closer. You didn’t have superhuman tolerance or strength like Steve, but you’d be damned if you just sat there and watched Thanos attack him and then erase half of humanity again.

“Y/n, stay back.” You heard Steve grunt from his place on the ground.

Your action was enough to get Thanos’ attention as you began using your powers to manipulate the metal in his hand to stay open. Distracted by trying to keep his hand open, you didn’t notice him getting closer. Steve finally got up and raced over only to be a second too late. Forced to watch in horror as Thanos’ opposite hand that held the power stone hit you in the head at full force.

Wanda landed just in time to see you go through the large rock you had been leaning against just moments before. She screamed.

As she gathered you in her arms, she gently tried to coax you awake. Fear sinking into her heart when you didn’t even flinch. With shaking hands, she checked your pulse and was relieved to still feel your heartbeat thrum steadily beneath her fingertips.

Suddenly, everything around Wanda went quiet. When she lifted her head, she was relieved to see Thanos’ army fading to dust around her. She tenderly pulled you closer to her body. Tears brimming at her eyes. “We won, Y/n.” she said shakily. “We won. We can finally have our life together. Our happy ending. Please, wake up. Please.” She begged quietly.

The only comfort she found was the way your breath softly fanned across her cheek and the way she could feel your heartbeat steadily against her own. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she refused to let you go.

When Steve placed a cautious hand on her shoulder, she jumped. “We have to get her to a hospital.” He said meekly, his eyes troubled as tears fell from his eyes as well.

Grudgingly she let him pick you up and load you on the waiting jet, blind to anything going on around her. When Steve said he’d meet her there later she barely heard him as she took your hand in hers, pressing her lips firmly to the back. Shortly after feeling the jet rise in the air and begin the short trip to S.H.I.E.L.D’s facility where their top medics were waiting to tend to you.

“I’ll take care of you. We’ll have a happy ending.” Wanda gently stroked your cheek, smiling slightly at the warmth that she still found on your skin. A moment later tears began falling as she rested her head against your hand. “I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you.” She whispered despairingly, hoping that you’d squeeze her hand, or open your eyes, anything. You were all she wanted, all she had. She couldn’t lose you. She wouldn’t recover.

Part 12! Can you believe it? I’m honestly shocked we’re already on part 12. Only one part left though. What do you all think is going to happen in the last chapter? Annnyway, as always, hope you each enjoyed reading this part. Thought and comments welcome, seeing them makes my day :)

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lokislastlove · 3 years

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Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x reader) p.2

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Knife play, Oral (m&f), Smut, Bondage, Kidnapping

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: Here is part 2, for those who have taken a chance on my trash, thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint. ❤️

Chapter 2:

You feel your chest seize and you start to shake as your heart rate skyrockets, your body and mind dissolving into a full blown panic attack as you feel around the black box imprisoning you. You are only locked in for a minute before you hear rustling outside and you are thrown into the wall as the whole box shifts and turns.

“What the fuck. Oh my god, someone help! Please let me out!” Your voice cracks as your pleading grows more desperate with each passing minute.

You try to hold out hope that it’s a prank or part of the experience but after what you were sure had to be at least ten minutes of begging to possibly no one, you sag in defeat. Your eyes burn with hot tears, the temperature inside the box rising the longer you sit there. Stewing in silence and sweat, you listen to anything that might tell you where you have been moved to but the joyful bustle of the carnival fades early on.

You fall asleep hunched at the bottom of the box, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You don’t know for how long but you are awoken roughly as the box tips over sending you face first into the solid surface. You grunt and stretch out, turning to lay on your back.

“Open it” you hear faintly.

The wall above you is ripped off instantly by a singular muscular arm. Startled, you gasp but manage to hold in the pathetic squeak when you look up into piercing blue eyes shrouded in unruly golden hair. Your own eyes widening as you take in the sheer mass of this man.

The muscles under his sun-kissed skin ripple as he huffs and stands straight. He scratches his bearded jaw, looking over to the darker figure you could barely see standing across from him.

“Yes I can see why you liked this one. Inquisitive eyes. A bit of fire in there, yes?” The hulking blond man raises a brow and smirks at you.

Had you not been in your current situation he would have been the type of man you could drool over for days. But considering the fact that you appear to be kidnapped, his physique only enhances your trepidation.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, fighting your soft-spoken nature.

“Yeah, there’s that fire” the large man chuckles deeply. “Want me to put her on the wall?” He asks looking back to his silent counterpart.

“The wall?” You mutter, panic rising again at the prospect of being ‘put’ anywhere.

“Yes, then you may go. Thank you , Thor” The darker mans voice drones, sounding bored.

The larger man, Thor, leans down and goes to grab you, making you scream and try to slap away his arms which is clearly ineffective, considering his bicep is the size of your head. He grabs your wrists easily and pulls you to your feet, you try going limp but he hardly seems to notice as he drags you out of the box. You start kicking and flailing wildly as he tosses you against a hard flat wooden surface attached to the wall. You sob as he takes one of your arms and stretches it straight out and snaps a mounted metal cuff around your wrist. You reach over with your free hand and try to unclasp the lock but he catches you and stretches the other arm out to the other side, rendering you completely helpless.

Arms spread wide, you feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when he traces his hand over your breasts before stepping away. That’s when you finally look at the thing you are mounted to. A circular wooden board painted red and white like a giant target, with you at the center.

“What the hell is this?” You tremble.

“Ankles too, for now” the dark suited man directs from across the room.

“Oh, well aren’t you a lucky girl” Thor chuckles under his breath before kneeling down and spreading your legs, attaching each to a similar iron restraint.

“Please. Please let me go” you plead softly to the bulky blond as he stands straight and smiles at you.

Thor brushes his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear before sucking it into his mouth and humming.

“So sweet.” He praises before winking at you and leaving the room.

Your eyes settle on the lithe figure facing away from you. He’s tall and although he’s not as thick as Thor, you can tell he doesn’t lack strength either. He sheds his jacket and lays it neatly across the desk in front of him.

“If this is s-some sort of joke, it’s not funny” you stutter.

You watch in horror as he slowly turns to look at you, leaning back on his desk and crossing his ankles.

“You’re a clever girl, does this feel like a prank to you, darling?” His voice is as smooth as silk.

“Why are you doing this? Where are my friends?” You question, dreading the answer.

“Oh they will make fine prizes for the highest bidder. But you, darling… you caught my attention.” He explains blithely, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

“Lucky me” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him as a wave of anger washes over you at the mention of your friends.

“Indeed.” He smiles cruelly.

“I swear to god if you hurt my friends –“ you fume before getting cut off suddenly.

You barely see the silver glint as something small whizzes through the air toward your head. A sharp silver blade sinks into the board next to your head, the shock causing you to choke on a gasp. It was mere inches away from your eye.

“Care to threaten me again?” He smirks, holding another knife in his right hand, the sharp point of it delicately pressing into the middle finger of his left hand.

You gulp as your body shakes uncontrollably, your life seemed to flash before your eyes in that moment. How did he throw that so fast, you say to yourself, the target behind you making more sense now. You shake your head in response to his question, voice lost amongst the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Very well” he nods once, with a small smile.

Your eyes are glued to the dagger in his hand, as he flourishes it about casually. Your muscles tense every time he tosses it gently in the air before catching it.

“Now, I want to know how you solved those riddles so quickly today” he asks lightly before throwing another dagger, this one splintering the wood inches away on the other side of your head. “And no lies.”

You squeak and close your eyes, body trembling so badly you aren’t sure how to form words anymore.

“I – I don’t know. I just did.” You manage to stammer out. “Please stop.”

Another dagger flies through the air, landing with a thud between your thighs.

“Oh my god, please! Please” you cry.

“You know some people could figure out one, maybe two, within the time limit. Most just get the answers from those who went before them. Others just come back repeatedly, mindlessly searching for the keys. But you… such a clever girl” he purred, pushing himself away from the desk still clutching another knife.

“You can hardly blame me for being curious” he continues, taking slow steps toward you.

He stops before you, admiring your terrified expression before dropping his eyes down your body. You pull on the restraints and shift in discomfort at his close proximity. He smiles as his eyes connect once more with your own, his pupils blown wide.

“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to – I won’t ever do it again. Just please let me and my friends go,” you beg.

You watch him smirk and sniff at your pathetic pleas, both fully aware you have nothing to offer. He turns and calmly walks back to his desk.

“Ugh let me go you fucking creep! What do you want from me?” Anger and panic causing you to lash out desperately.

He turns and flings another dagger at you, but this time you feel a sharp pain under your arm. You look over to see the dagger pinning your shirt to the board, slowly staining with blood.

“Oh my god!” You scream shifting your arm away from the dagger. “You cut me!”

“Barely more than a scratch. You’ll survive.” He assured you coolly with a roll of his eyes.

You feel the slow flow of warmth trickle down the underside of your arm and you whimper as you watch him near you again. He stops in front of you and pulls the dagger from the board, releasing your shirt. He admires the blade for a moment and then reaches out to you, making you flinch away. His eyes flare at your reaction and he tuts disapprovingly.

“This shirt, however…” he mocks, sliding the sharp end of the blade under the hem of the fabric along your stomach, “I’m afraid it will not.”

You gasp as he brings the knife up cutting through the flimsy material with barely any resistance. You cry as the cool air breezes over your exposed stomach. The useless cloth hanging loosely off your arms.

“Better” he coos his appraisal, as he glides the tip of the knife from your neck to your navel.

Your chest heaves as the reality set in like a boulder dropping in your stomach. You can’t believe this is how your ‘fun night out’ is going. Cursing your luck as you wonder why the hell your intelligence only seemed to lead you to trouble and scummy men.

“All of this because I solved your stupid riddles” you gripe, shaking your head in bitter disbelief.

“Stupid?” He repeats, his face twisting in disgust at the insult.

“Yeah, what is it? You have a problem with women smarter than you? No, that can’t be it, you’d have to be used to that by now.” You sneer.

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but something about this man makes you angry, and you figure, what do I have to lose?

His face twists in anger and he slams the dagger into the wall above your head. Your head is now caged in by three sharp knives and yet you suppress a flinch.

“That, wasn’t so smart, darling.” His lip curls in amusement as he backs off slightly and grips the rounded edge of the board spinning it until you are hanging upside down.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

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pips-squeak · 2 years

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Mother’s Creature

The world finally seemed to be on his side today. Running faster than light itself, the wind almost picked the little boy up to push him further away from the lab. He tripped over the thick, gnarled tree roots, no person to take the dead trees down around here. A woman in a stark white lab coat chased, although even with her much longer legs she was falling behind. It was almost as if nature could sense who she was, what she had in mind for her test subject, the beautiful creature she had created that had nightmares filled with her face.

He was born in the walls scented with chemicals, his bed a test table. Forever scars carved into his skin from IVs, slivers of skin cut out from scalpels. Hospitable was not a word to describe his childhood, nor his ‘mother’, or what had soon become of both. Nine years he had lived like that, desperately searching for a way out, the shining sun behind the cold, metal door. But he had never gotten the chance. Until now.

The door left slightly ajar, his mother missed the sound of the lock not sticking into place, assuming it had kept her experiment locked away like it had done every other time. But the lock didn’t click. And as soon as the little boy, Ivan, the monster’s chosen name for her creation, heard the car door close and engine starting, he took off with a crack.

He never would’ve made it this far if the trees were less dense, if their branches weren’t cuddled so close. They were, though, and no car could fit through these woods. There was very little light coming through the arms of the trees that tried to cover him, hide him away from the woman’s grasp. It would soon be dark, and the woman’s hunt would have to wait for daylight.

The tracker! Inspiration struck the woman. The little blinking light underneath Ivan’s skin, flashing when a button is pressed. It would normally have a small alarm to go along with the light, but the lack of any form of a connection would render it useless, so the light would have to do.

Ivan continued to sprint through nature, just barely missing a drop from a cliff that looked to never end. “Landmarks”, Ivan whispered to himself. “Remember the places around you.” Something his father had taught him.

The monster pushed the button, held her breath, and watched to see any red in the now, pitch black nature, the dark blanket of night obscuring her vision.

Ivan heard the press of the button before she managed to see the light. How had she gotten so close already? He was miles ahead of her! You went in a circle, one voice whispered inside his head. You’re trapped, said another. No. No, he was not trapped. He had to find a way out. Some way to escape.

But the woman saw red before the little boy could come up with a plan. She was holding some kind of device as she stalked toward her creation, like hunting prey that was just out of reach; just barely out of grasp.

Ivan turned around, at first heading back into the thick of the woods. But then a thought surfaced, a thought that shouldn’t have been thought of, but it was the only idea he had.

Changing direction, Ivan started running where he had just come from, to the edge of the forever cliff. His feet reached the edge, rock crumbling, falling into an abyss where nothing could be recovered. Where no one would bother checking. He heard his mother, the monster, the woman he didn’t know slow down behind him, feet no longer pounding on grass and now lightly stepping, as if not to scare a frightened dog.

“Darling”, She said. “It’s okay, honey. Just come back with me to the lab. To home.” She smiled sweetly. Ivan wasn’t looking at her. And even if he was it wouldn’t have made a difference. So as fast as light, as fast as someone who had everything to lose, he ran to the monster, grasped her arm, and swung her off the cliff.

#submission #I might fix some of the formatting in the morning we’ll see #this isn’t about ctommy but if you want to associate it with him or whatever i don’t mind cause it was kinda inspired by the lab au thing #writing #writeblr #pips writing #flash fiction #long post.

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑩𝒆𝒈 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑰𝒕 (𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆! 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑒! 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)× 𝑂𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐵𝐷𝑆𝑀 𝐴𝑈

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5K

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑑𝑜𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑒! 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑔𝑒 (𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠), 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑠𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙, ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑗𝑜𝑏, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐵𝐷𝑆𝑀 𝑡𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑎𝑔/𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔/𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑔/𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑑𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑢𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛).

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @rvse-miingi @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez

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The bleach blonde male sat quietly in the dimly lit room, nothing to keep him company save for the metal chains attached to his wrists that would occasionally rattle when he would shift around, not that there was anywhere he could go to. His face was glued to the floor, his nose letting out a sigh every now and then as he waited for something, anything to happen. He had been stripped of his clothes, leaving him completely bare and occasionally shivering from the cold air that sometimes hit him. He had been locked up for approximately an hour or more since his little.....episode upstairs in the mansion.

Nothing that he regretted though.

Hearing the large door open, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. The corner of his lip curled upwards in a smirk as he heard the familiar clanking of heels sounding throughout the basement. They stopped right in front of him, one of them impatiently tapping against the floor. He didn't need to look up to know the owner more than likely had her arms crossed and a scowl was visible on her face.

Good. At least he had finally gotten her attention.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Still not looking up, he opted for pursing his lips out, looking over at the side as if he saw something that amused him. His demeanor only served to fuel the already burning anger inside the female. Squatting down, she harshly gripped his face and made him turn to look at her.

"Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you and fucking answer me when I'm asking you a question Wooyoung."

He only let out an unsatisfied huff, finally opening his mouth.

"Little bitch had it coming."

Digging her nails into his skin, she hardened the grip she held on him.

"Excuse me?"

With a grunt, Wooyoung jerked his face away from her hand, a red line now marked across the side of his chin. He looked up with defiance at the woman standing in front of him, her gorgeous body clad in a black leather bustier corset, paired with extremely short cheek hugging shorts with thigh high fishnet stockings decorating her legs.

"I said little bitch had it coming. He kept bragging on and on about how you've spoiled, pampered and constantly been fucking him like you're all some kind of horny rabbits. Well I got news for you, Madam, he's not the only slave you own, not the only one who can please you well enough yet you let him bask in your undivided attention and that only serves to fuel his ego."

The young woman blinked her eyes slowly, the light bulb turning on in her head as she realized what was happening. She let out an amused scoff as she took in the fire burning in her slave's eyes.

"Jung Wooyoung, you were jealous. Weren't you?"

"So what if I was?" He spat back at her, making her frown again.

"Don't you use that tone with me. Remember I'm still your owner and you're still in trouble for picking a fight with San." She reprimanded him.

"What's the use of him working out those arms of his if little baby can't even defend himself?" He let out a small 'tsk.'

"I'm not done with you. Your little temper tantrum just put you in a lot of trouble you little brat."

Loving the use of his usual nickname, he smiled challenging up at his mistress, a twinkle in his eye.

"And what do you plan on doing then?"

He was truly unbelievable. Smirking down at him, she lightly petted his hair, making sure to be all so gentle with him.

"Well....seeing as you've been feeling neglected and in need of my attention, I'm going to make sure you get it..."

Before he could even get comfortable, she suddenly yanked his hair harshly, a harsh grunt spurting out his mouth as he tried to break free once again.

"Along with a reminder about how I like and expect my submissive little slaves to behave at all times."

Letting go of his hair, she tilted his head up once more and struck him across his pretty face, leaving his cheek a bright pink color.

"That's for the busted lip you gave Sannie."

Throwing his head back, he let out a loud and mocking laugh.

"Is that all you came here for? Slap me once and call it a day?"

Not letting his bratty behavior make her lose her temper, though her hand was twitching to put him in his place, she gave him a sweet smile. Hand reaching out to pet his hair, she began cooing at him.

"Oh my sweet little slave, you know better than anyone I'm not letting you go that easily."

Wooyoung couldn't resist leaning into her touch. It had been so long since she'd caressed him like that and he was already melting for her. He allowed her to press him up against the wall, her hands roaming across his chest, his skin so soft and smooth to the touch it'd be a sin not to leave it full of purple and red blotches. Which was exactly what she was going for. Face hidden on the crook of his neck, mouth closing over his beautifully tanned skin, she began to aggressively suckle on his sensitive points. Being the loud brat he was, Wooyoung immediately began spilling out moaned out hums and harsh sucked in breaths whenever she gave him a particularly long suck or sank her teeth into his flesh. When one of her hands brushed over his hardening member, he pressed his hips into her palm. Getting the hint, Y/N chuckled and gripped his base, starting a rather mellow pace as she began rubbing along his length.

"This what you wanted my little slave? Wanted me to get you off like this?"

Wooyoung couldn't keep himself from bucking his hips up. It had been far too long since he'd been touched like that by anyone else and he having been so sexually frustrated for a while, all he wanted was to cum by the help of someone else who wasn't his hand.

"Y-yes! Please! Keep going Mistress. Feels so g-good."

Taking her hand, he urged her to pump him faster, his breath letting out hisses when she finally began jerking him as he wanted to. Y/N smirked against his neck, she had him exactly where she wanted him: needy, vulnerable, but most of all oblivious to what she was going to do. Her free hand reached deep inside her shorts, taking out a little special surprise she had kept hidden away for a specific reason. Wooyoung was so lost in his urgent need to cum he didn't see anything of what was happening. His eyes only shot wide open when he suddenly felt her other hand wrap something around the base of his cock, her movements halting all together and she stepped away from him. Looking down, Wooyoung was not only pissed at being denied his orgasm, but was also somewhat anxious about having a cock ring placed on him. This meant he was not going to cum for a while, and that thought alone made him uneasy and whiny.

"No! Please! Y/N! You can't do this to-yahh!"

Having gone over to the lever that connected to the chains he was wearing, Y/N made it so that his arms were fully raised above his head, rendering him unable to bring them back down and unable to escape the position he was in, back pressed to the wall and at her complete disposition for her to use him as she pleased. Wooyoung knew it, hence why he gulped when he saw her pick up something from the table that had an assorted of toys for her to choose from. He watched as her hand waved over a flogger, a riding crop, hesitated for a moment when it hovered over a paddle. But ultimately, Y/N's eyes sparkled brightly as she unraveled the single tailed whip and began walking over to Wooyoung with a determined look.

"Remember this Wooyoung? I'm sure you do. It was the very first thing I used on you when you first came to live with me. You were such an unruly and untamed little boy, I had to teach you manners and etiquette........."

Wooyoung grunted when she wrapped the whip around his neck and pulled his face close to hers, a devilish smirk in her eyes.

"Let's relive old times."

With a harsh tug, she pulled the whip off from his neck before forcing him to turn around and face the stone wall behind him. He had no time to mentally nor physically prepare before he felt the first fiery sting of the whip clashing against his skin.

"Ah fuck!"

Gripping harshly at the metallic links above him, Wooyoung tried so hard for keep any noises from spilling it but ultimately couldn't. He was extremely vocal and the seering pain of the whip hitting against his back, ass and thighs had him howling out curses and screams that would be heard by anyone who was passing by the hallway outside. Body flinching, every strike further served to make his already hard member throb more intensely against the constraining device placed on it, aching to be allowed to cum. His precum was already spilling out onto the floor at a dangerous pace. He lost count after the 23rd hit, his mind too hazy and filled with lust as his body ached to be released from his torture yet also begged for more.

Y/N finally pulled back after his back was a bright red color, a few bright marks were definitely going to be left for a couple weeks, maybe a month. Although she felt slightly bad, she knew she had to continue, not only for his sake but for hers. If she was being honest, she had grown much too tired of all the other complacent boys, all perfectly submissive babies who were ready to obey her every command and behaved so perfectly well. She wanted to fill like an actual Dom once more and punish a brat for stepping out of line....

And Wooyoung provided just that.

Her heat pooled out a gush of slick when she saw how his body trembled when she placed a hand on his sensitive back, low panting breaths being exhaled from his chest.

"You look so pretty like this Woo. All naked, back red, sweat already forming around the center of it, your pretty cock with the ring around it..."

Wooyoung threw his head back when she reached over to cup his balls in her palm, squeezing and groping at them so intensely.

"But I know you can look even better."

He stiffened and gasped loudly, the sound getting cut off as he choked on his breath when he felt something being pushed up into his tight asshole. He let out a raspy groan when it was fully inserted in. It didn't take a genius to know that it was without a doubt a butt plug, his Mistress always loved shoving one up his ass every now and then, sometimes even making him go a whole day with one inside him. Hearing her giggle, he held in a whimper when she smacked his ass harshly.

"You always did have the cutest butt." She complimented him.

He let out a dissatisfied scoff.

"Yeah right. I've seen you stare and talk about Hongjoong's voluptuous ass more than once..."

Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, teeth nibbling at his ear.

"Yeah his ass is definitely the biggest, but what's the point if he's too scared to have something shoved in it?"

Letting out a growl, Wooyoung tilted his head away from her, making her frown.

"Still not over that bratty and selfish attitude of yours? And here I was thinking of being nice and actually let you cum as much as you wanted.....but you seem hell bent on making your punishment worse."

Leaving his side, she went back towards the lever and began to loosen it up.

"On the ground, I want you lying on your back."

Grudgingly and with a hiss, he layed on his back, the cold surface surprisingly soothing the burning sensation he still felt on his skin. Feeling generous, Y/N loosened the chains enough to allow him to move his arms as freely as he wanted, though it'd probably be a while for the numbness to go away after having them held up for such a long time. Strutting over to him, she got on her knees and pried his legs far enough to see the red jeweled plug decorating his ass. Bending over, she placed her head so close to his reddened tip, which immediately excited him.

"What?" She questioned him, pulling her face back when he attempted to shove his length towards her face.

"Please~" He pleaded, hips bucking up in the air in desperation, wanting to feel something, anything to help his problem.

"Please what slave? You're going to have to be more specific with me." She teased him as she leaned back in and swiped her tongue up his cock and almost immediately pulled back.

Wooyoung shivered at the feeling of her wet muscle gliding along his length, wanting to feel more of it.

"Please! Let me cum! I'll be a good boy for you!" He cried out.

Y/N pretended to think about it for a second. Then she proceeded to wrap her lips just around his tip, tongue swirling around his slit.

"Oh my! Yes! Please please please!" He shut his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure from just a small action.

Pulling back to spit on his cock, she pumped at the base as her head bobbed up and down and sucked the top. Wooyoung's mouth was an endless pit of constant moans and hisses as he bucked his hips onto her face, cock twitching when she pushed his length all the way to the back of her throat and held it there before gagging on it and pulling back out, the sides of her mouth spilling out a large trail of saliva as she got back to work on sucking him off.

"Mistress! I'm going to cum! Please don't stop! Yes! I'm gonna-"

Just as he was on the brink of reaching the high he so craved, Y/N immediately pulled back when she felt his cock about to stutter. She witnessed sadistically as he let out a pained cry at his ruined orgasm, his hands going to his face and clutching at his hair, hips sputtering and cock wiggling pathetically as he experienced the most intense discomfort and disappointment in his life. He nearly pulled out his own hair as he dropped his arms to the floor and looked over at his Mistress, eyes glassy and red.

"Wh-why would you do that?! I wanted to-"

He quickly shut up when she strangled his neck with one hand, eyes glaring at him.

"I told you I'm not letting you go that easily. If you want your precious orgasm, you gotta beg for it you worthless slave. Show me you deserve it."

Slamming him back down to the floor, she climbed on top of him, dragging her shorts down her legs and tossing them far away somewhere. Wooyoung licked his lips as her wet and succulent pussy came in contact with his face, her thighs placed on each side of his head.

"Now, put that big and loud mouth of yours to work slut. It's not going to eat itself so get to it. If I don't cum, you don't get to cum."

Wooyoung waited for her to lower herself even more before swiping his nose along her slit, shamelessly inhaling her scent. Tongue poking out, he glided it across her folds, paying careful attention to clit. Y/N couldn't resist it and began grinding her hips against his face.

"That's a good little slave, yes. Eat my pussy out like a good little boy."

Running her fingers through his hair, she threw her head back as Wooyoung's tongue skillfully toyed with her clit, lips enveloping her little nub to suck on it. He made sure to hum against it as well, knowing she loved it when he did that. His face was practically making out with her heat, hands gripping her thighs to pull her closer until she was practically smothering his entire face. If there was one thing he had it was eagerness, both to receive but most of all please. Wooyoung's tongue movements were eager and determined, he sloppily licked all over her mound, his teeth sometimes grazing across her folds only adding to her pleasure.

"Ah fuck! Such a good- holy shit! I'm gonna cum Wooyoungie! Gonna cum all over your pretty face and make a mess!"

Tugging his hair harshly, she rode his face in a brazen manner, eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clenched as she fucked the poor boy's face. He didn't mind, he just kept his mouth wide open, tongue out to allow her to dig her clit onto it. He was letting out muffled whimpers as her weight practically crushed his jaw, but that didn't stop him from continuing to eat her out like one of the many desserts he loved enjoying. If it hadn't been for the cock ring, he swore he could have cum untouched when her hips stuttered, thighs clenched his head and she grinded herself furiously onto his face as she spilled her juices all over him. He made sure to lap up as much as he could, even after she stilled and sat there to collect her breath. Y/N was a panting mess by the end. Looking down, she smiled at Wooyoung as she got off his face. His hair was poking out in all directions, forehead sweaty, eyes dazed and he had her cum all over his chin, nose and jaw. He looked like such an ethereal mess.

Placing herself back on his hips, she began rubbing herself along his cock, and he immediately responded to her touch.

"Mistress will you let me cum now?" He put on the cutest puppy face he could muster.

"Hmm...i don't know....I want to since you've been good so far...but I don't know."

Feeling her movements slow, Wooyoung bucked his hips up, earning a slap on his thigh from her.

"Don't move."

"I'm sorry! I just really wanna cum! I've been good and I'll be good, I promise! Just please! Keep going, keep doing that. Put my cock inside your hole, even if just the tip but please!"

Y/N loved hearing him beg like he did, knowing she had probably already broken him once more, signaling she won. But she needed to be sure.

"You'll be good? Really? Does that mean you'll behave from now on? Will you even......watch as I fuck Sannie from behind?" She suggested.

At the mention of the other man's name, Wooyoung's attitude changed once again. With the chains rattling, he lifted himself up and began attacking Y/N's neck, sucking and biting down on her skin as his hands began to tear the corset apart.

"Mine! You're mine! I refuse to share with anyone especially that little whore!" He declared fiercely as he managed to tear her corset apart enough to free her glorious breasts, his teeth sinking down on one of them.

Although extremely turned on by his possessive and aggressive behavior, Y/N pushed him away before slapping his face harshly. Wooyoung sat there stunned, eye wide as he stared away in shock. Y/N had never slapped his face before, this just happened on the spur of the moment and she wondered if maybe she went too far.

"Woo-Wooyoung, I'm so sorr-"

"Fuck please do that again." He interrupted her as he grabbed her hand and placed it on his cheek once again.

She was appalled by his request.

"What?! No! Are you crazy?!"

Not accepting her answer and knowing she wouldn't hit him unless she deemed he deserved it, he launched at her once more ripping the rest of her corset off. He scrambled to line himself up to her drenched hole, wanting to pound up into her and fuck her as he wanted. Realizing what he was doing, Y/N pushed him off her once more and this time she landed two slaps across his face. She watched in fascination as Wooyoung's body trembled, his cock releasing tiny spurts of white liquid onto his thighs. She couldn't believe her eyes, he had literally just had a tiny orgasm from being teased for so long and from slapping his face.

It was such a twisted and sickening sight, but it fueled her depraved desires.

"Look at that......who knew you little mutt could cum at the merest of my touches....kinda pathetic don't you think slut?" She shook her head in a mocking way, looking at him with a disdainful gaze.

"Just admit you're enjoying this as well. Your eyes glow with every punishment you throw at me. Can anyone of your other slaves put up with half the torture you throw at me? Hmm? Can they? Admit I'm your favorite toy to play with." He taunted at her.

She calmly got up, ignoring the confused look on his face. He watched her go back to the lever and saw her lift it up. He felt his arms go up once more, just enough so that he wouldn't be able to bring them back down. Then her hand swiftly grabbed something from the table once more. Straddling his chest, he found out what it was she grabbed after she forced it around his mouth, drool coming out as he was unprepared for the ball gag that now adorned his mouth.

"Maybe that will keep your filthy mouth shut for a while as I fuck your cock like I want to."

He groaned in excitement when she pulled the cock ring off him, finally he was going to get what he wanted, a full blown orgasm.

"Oh.....don't get excited and happy just yet slave....I'm not quite done with you."

Having lined herself up on his throbbing dick, she harshly slammed herself down, giving him no time to adjust as she began bouncing on him. Wooyoung didn't care, although he was hypersensitive from being constricted by the cock ring, he felt relieved to have his Mistress' warm and wet walls cover his cock. Although muffled by the gag, he let out joyful mewling sounds as he lost himself in the feeling of her velvety hole. Y/N's eyes stared intensely at him, waiting for him to cum, which would probably come very soon giving how long he had been waiting for it. Just as she predicted, his high came very fast, even he didn't expect it so soon. Through garbled incoherent words, he sputtered underneath her, his hot cum coating up her walls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt the most mind blowing orgasm he's had since the first time he was broken by her.

Giving him no chance no relax, she lifted herself back up and continued to fuck herself on his dick, small mocking laughter coming out her lips when Wooyoung tried to pull his hands around her to halt her movements, only to be painfully reminded that his arms were chained up.

"I'm not done yet you bitch. I still need to cum....let's see how long that takes."

Wooyoung began thrashing his body underneath her, stifled screaming pouring out his throat as he couldn't handle the overstimulation, especially not after so much denial. She could faintly make out the word 'please' come out his lips, but all she did was slap him across the face once again.

"Shut up! Who's the whiny little baby now? Take what I give you. You wanted to cum so badly, now you're going to get it."

Her breasts bounced against her body, her skin glistening from all the sweat it had accumulated, hair sticking to her face as a wicked smile framed her features as she peered down at the poor boy underneath her. Through teary eyes, he let out choked out shrieks as he felt another orgasm being ripped out of his body, legs kicking out in a futile attempt to move her away from him. Y/N only sped up her movements, feeling her 2nd orgasm fast approaching, especially when taking in how much of a blanked out mess Wooyoung was becoming.

"Look at you pretty little slave making such a mess. Your cum is leaking out onto the floor. Such a dirty naughty boy."

Wooyoung had tears streaming down his face, cheeks burning bright red. His mind had completely shut off at this point, nearly blacking out from all the immense pleasure he was being forced to endure. He no longer had control of his body, his body kept writhing and quivering against his will. He was pretty sure even the people on the other side of the mansion could hear his screams, even if they were being slightly muted by the mouth gag he was wearing. In trying to clench to keep from cumming once more, he only groaned as he felt the butt plug that had never been taken off him. He could no longer hold back, cumming for a third time, more violent than the previous ones, body convulsing under the harsh fucking of his owner as her walls also contracted over his spurting cock.

Holding herself up on his thick thighs, her back arched, panting hysterically as she heavily came all over her lover's cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Oh my- Wooyoung!"

If he hadn't been so fucked out and dizzy from the overstimulation, Wooyoung would have had a smug grin plastered on his face followed by a teasing comment, but all he could do was just stare up at the ceiling, face blank even after Y/N slowed down her movements until completely stilling on top of him. Knowing he was too worn out to move, she pulled the plug out of his ass before pulling out of his length. She noticed him shiver when the cold air hit his exposed cock, thighs clenching together. She quickly freed his hands from the chains and caught them before they dropped against the hard floor. Finally, she removed the ball gag off his mouth, all covered in his saliva, lips looking sore and somewhat slightly pink. He painfully grumbled when she lifted his torso up and cupped his face.

"You doing ok?" She scanned him all over to make sure no severe damage was done.

Tilting his head slightly up and down, his eyes began to get drowsy as tiredness began to befell him. Y/N carefully helped him to his feet, slinging one of his arms over her shoulder to help him walk him to her room so she could give him proper aftercare.

"Come on my precious baby. Don't worry about anything. I'll run you a bath and then we'll cuddle on my bed. Does that sound good?"

Although he had his head hung low, Y/N knew he was smiling, after all, he was finally getting what he wanted: her undivided attention.

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269 notes · View notes

nanamixxkento · 3 years

Text

Always (Nanami x Female Reader)

Rating: General

Content Warning: mentions of blood/injury.

Word Count: 2,827

A/N: I’m open for Nanami x Reader writing requests.

He was late.

It wasn’t uncommon for Nanami to work overtime but he’d never been this late. The hours ticked by sluggishly, until you were pacing your living room with your heart in your throat and your phone in your hand.

You knew something was wrong. You knew it when you didn’t receive his customary text to let you know he was heading out or working overtime today.

And now you felt it. He was not answering his phone.

The worry got the best of you.

Scrolling through your contacts, you sought out a different number.

“Hello?” Gojo answered on the third ring, nearly making your knees give.

“Gojo,” you breathed, voice wavering. “Thank god you picked up!”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He immediately sounded concerned, no doubt hearing the anxiety in your voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m at home,” you quickly reassured. “But I don’t think Ken is. He’s late Gojo, he’s so late. And he’s not answering his phone and I haven’t heard from him all day.”

Gojo swore softly. “Give me five minutes, I’ll find out where he was sent and get back to you.”

You went back to pacing, now with a slightly more hopeful note in your chest. With Gojo on Kento’s case, surely you’d at least be able to relax knowing where he was.

However, another anxious thought found you before then. What if ... what if Kento was so hurt he couldn’t attend to his phone? What if he was dying?

Your breath hitched with oncoming tears. That couldn’t be happening. So lost in your grief you nearly jumped when your phone rang again.

“Yes?” You answered wobbly.

“Y/N, I know where he is. But I ... I’m not anywhere close, I can’t go check on him. I asked Ichiji to stop by and he’s on his way—“

“Where is he?” You demanded, now scared.

“Titan High, but it’s too dangerous, don’t you dare try to go there Y/N!”

It was too late, you’d already made up your mind. “Sorry, Gojo but I have to find my husband. Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N—!”

You ended the call, dashing to grab a coat and your keys. If Kento was hurt, if he was grievously injured, like hell you were going to sit around and wait for him to die or be rescued. You didn’t care what happened to you then, as long as you could be with him.

Outside, it was raining relentlessly, the skies the darkest grey. It rendered your vision awash with fuzzy colours but you couldn’t slow down, stomping the pedal and whizzing through the streets with your map giving instructions in the background.

Titan High was on the other side of the city, and you cursed everything alive and dead in the half-hour it took you to get there. It would seem you beat even Ichiji to the deserted location.

You stumbled out of your car, and rushed through the metal gate that was left ajar.

Immediately, you felt the lingering swirls of doom in the air as you drew closer to the doors. You noticed fallen chunks of concrete in the open field, and the deformed soccer goal post.

They were all signs of battle that made adrenaline course heavily through your veins. But if there was one thing you feared more than the invisible monsters Kento fought, it was losing him to said monsters.

You made it through the doors, ringing Kento again and again until you thought you heard the distant ring of his phone. It made you race for the staircase, breath puffing out rapidly and sweat beading on your forehead.

It was several degrees colder on the second floor. One wall was entirely blown out, several windows were completely shattered.

Traipsing through the crumbled wall into the classroom, the first thing you noticed was the dust still hanging in the air. The second thing you noticed was the absence of Kento. And finally, you fished out his cracked phone from under a toppled desk.

By now you were so frustrated and scared you could cry. You clutched his phone in a death grip, trying to breathe through the lump in your throat. He had to be nearby.

This time, you threw your reservations out of the window, opened your mouth and screamed his name over and over hoping he would answer.

Your feet carried you to the third and final floor where more signs of battle left the corridor with dents in the metal doors and shattered floor tiles. You struggled through the wreckage, the dust making you cough until finally you arrived at a broken down supply closet.

The yellow light bulb flickered eerily, casting out just enough light to see a heap on the ground.

“Kento!” You cried, falling to your knees by his bleeding figure.

He was propped up against the metal closet, a wad of tissue paper curled to his bleeding side.

He stirred at your voice, blinking slowly. “Hmm, Y/N?” His blood stained fingers pumped your cheek lightly, and he frowned. “Huh.”

Awareness seemed to slam into him moments later as he made the connection that you were real, and actually crouched there with him in the closet. “Wait—“ he struggled to righten himself, breathing strained and you lurched forward to help him. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? Have you lost your mind!”

He wheezed slightly, his hand clutched his side again as small rivulets of blood trickled out through the tissues.

You looked around wildly for anything to use to stifle his bleeding and got up to rummage through the closet and shelves until you found small packaged towels and rags.

“Please don’t talk,” you pled, distantly aware of the tears streaming down your face as you ripped open package after package and replaced the tissue with the towels.

He hissed as you pressed down on his wound, making your heart twist in your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. “We have to stop the bleeding, please just— please hang in there. Ichiji should be here any minute.”

Kento clumsily used the back of his shaking knuckles to wipe your tears. “Hey,” he attempted, still sounding pained. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ... to yell at you ... you’re okay ... please don’t cry.”

Ichiji found you several minutes later, still crouched over Kento who was thankfully bleeding less now with you there to apply pressure on his wound.

He paled considerably at the sight of the both of you covered in blood, your eyes puffy from tears and Kento’s squeezed shut.

It took the strength of both you and Ichiji to help manoeuvre Kento down three flights of stairs and finally to the backseat of Ichiji’s car.

“To the hospital Ichiji, quickly,” you said, crowding against Kento’s side to press on his wound again.

Half-way through your trip, Gojo called, sounding a little wild over the speakers. “Ichiji, tell me those idiots didn’t get themselves killed!”

“G-Gojo-san,” Ichiji swallowed thickly. “We’re on our way to the hospital—“

“—the hospital?!”

“—because Nanami-san is injured—“

“HOW INJURED?”

Ichiji was sweating bullets now, nervously flexing his fingers over the steering wheel. He’d never heard Gojo-san shouting before and it made him incredibly nervous. “We ... we don’t know yet.”

“Your location, now, Ichiji,” Gojo’s voice came out calmer with a hint of steel underlying it.

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Did you run into Y/N? I swear if something happens to her, Nanami will have me castrated.” Gojo muttered darkly. “Make sure she’s safe, Ichiji, you got that?”

“She’s um, she’s here with me and she can hear you,” Ichiji offered meekly but Gojo had already ended the call.

Silence flooded the car again, but for Kento's harsh, wheezing breaths.

You used your free hand to stroke through the damp wisps of his hair, tugging comfortingly at the crown of his head. “Ken, you have to stay awake,” you told him regrettably, tugging gently at his hair again. “Stay with me.”

He made a soft groaning noise but his eyes cracked open.

“That’s it,” you encouraged, barely managing to hold back a second wave of tears. “Focus on my voice.”

You talked to him about the trip you were organising for next month, where you planned to go, and all the ridiculous endeavours you vowed to pull him into. By the time you reached the hospital, he was struggling to keep his eyes open for a second longer but by then a squad of nurses with a stretcher rushed to his side and you felt some relief wash over you.

You were checked in too, even when you insisted all the blood wasn’t yours, but the elderly nurse in charge gave you one stern look and hooked you to an IV.

Ichiji stayed by your side, shuffling nervously and gulping at every sudden noise, no doubt fearing the appearance of Gojo.

When Gojo appeared an hour later, Ichiji did indeed jump a foot in the air. “G-G-Gojo-san! You made it!”

At least he wasn’t shouting, but something about his expression looked distinctly foreboding. “You,” he pointed a finger at you. “Are an utter idiot!”

You gave him a sheepish look but made no apologies whatsoever.

“What if Nanami hadn’t exorcised the curse, huh? You could’ve died.” He huffed, leaning his long limbs against the wall. “And then I would’ve had to spend the rest of my life avoiding him. Sheesh.”

You shrugged stiff shoulders. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”

“That’s because you’re as stubborn as him!” Gojo said. “And as dumb as him,” he pointed viciously at Ichiji who shuddered.

“I gave you one job,” he told Ichiji. “One. How the hell did she beat you to it?”

Ichiji was looking throughly chastised, sweating profusely with his gaze locked on the floor.

You used your foot to lightly kick Gojo’s ankle. “Stop bullying him,” you said. “It’s not his fault.”

Gojo huffed again, but heeded your wish.

A couple of hours later, you were allowed to see Kento when he finally awoke from his surgery. Gojo and Ichiji lingered awkwardly at the door while you dashed to his side to take his hand and pepper his face with grateful kisses.

Kento wrinkled his nose slightly at you but he was smiling. “Kisses won’t make me less mad at you for putting yourself in danger, Y/N,” he scolded, albeit gently.

“Shut up and accept my love,” you said unfalteringly, earning a laugh from Gojo who finally wandered into the room after you.

“Don’t they just warm the cold cockles of your heart?” He sighed fondly to Ichiji.

“You’re not off the hook either,” Kento threw him a mild glare. “I know you told her where to find me.”

Gojo cleared his throat and ignored him. “I think the moral of today is that we’re all alive. And that’s what we should be talking about. Of course that and the fact that Y/N called you her husband.”

You jolted, flushing as you realised that you did indeed call him that in the heat of the moment earlier.

It was easy to forget sometimes when you and Kento already shared everything. You’d been living together for years, you’d even discussed kids.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I think the true moral of today,” you said, “is that Jujutsu sorcerers should never be sent out on solo missions. And you really should invest in some location trackers and an earpiece.”

“Mhmmmm,” Gojo hummed slyly and clapped his hands. “Well now that the lovebirds are reunited, Ichiji and I will see ourselves out, right Ichiji?”

“Yes, sir,” Ichiji yelped, slinking out of the room immediately.

Gojo’s smile was satisfied but it quickly morphed into a serious expression as he gazed at the both of you through his blindfold. “I’m glad you’re okay, Nanami. And Y/N, if you weren’t, I might have had to bring you back to life just to kill you for being an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, we love you too Gojo,” you smirked teasingly at him and waved him out.

The exhaustion of tonight’s events were beginning to catch up with you. It was nearing three in the morning and all you wanted was to curl into Kento’s warmth and catch a few hours of rest.

He cleared his throat softly and scooted over. “Come on sleepy head,” he patted the space next to him. “Get in.”

You smiled gratefully as you slid into the cosy space beside him and carefully rested your head on his chest.

The lights overhead dimmed a few minutes later to a hushed warm colour that engulfed the room with shadows.

Kento stroked your hair lightly, his breathing soft but not yet asleep. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he murmured quietly, just as you were beginning to wonder if he was finally falling asleep.

“Ken,” you chided gently. “Go to sleep. There’s nothing to apologise for.”

He hummed contemplatively. “I knew what I was signing up for with this job,” he sighed. “But it never gets easier. Especially that I have you now.”

It wasn’t like Kento didn’t know your true feelings about his occupation. You supported him in everything he did, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Constantly risking his life would never be something you agreed with.

“I know,” you sighed too, tracing feathery circles over his chest. “It’s not easy for me either. So you can’t blame me for what I did today, okay? Losing you is not an option, I don’t care what your job description entails.”

He squeezed your shoulder lightly, as if to acknowledge your words. “I promise I’ll always come home to you ... even if it means you might occasionally have to haul my ass there yourself.”

You cracked a smile and felt it mirrored against your temple as he pressed a gentle kiss to your brow. “That’s fine by me,” you declared and snuggled closer to him.

Silence descended again but for your rhythmic breathing and the warm thudding of his heart under your ear.

It was a much-needed peace after the storm. He was alive and breathing and in your arms, and you couldn’t have wished for anything more.

“Y/N,” he said a while later, stirring you from the first stages of falling asleep. His thumb was fluttering lightly over your cheekbone, and you suspected the innocent strokes were what was lulling you to sleep.

“Hmm?”

“Did you really call me your husband?”

A wave of butterflies, nerves and surprise cleanly banished any lingering sleep from your system. You attempted a calm, matter-of-fact tone. “Yes.”

You felt the ghost of his smile again. “Was it by accident?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Does it matter?”

“Maybe,” he echoed and you heard the light humour in his tone. “What if it matters to me to know whether you think of me that way?”

You swallowed. “Well ... we’ve been together for years now. I don’t see myself with anyone else and if it won’t be you, then it won’t be anyone. For me at least.”

The thumb on your cheek brushed lower to hook just under your jawline and tilt your head up. You looked up at him and were startled by the adoring look on his face. “It’ll always be you for me,” he said and pressed your lips together.

You melted under the loving ministrations of his mouth, your heart racing and racing. Everything always seemed too good to be true with Kento, even the overflowing affection in your chest.

Cradling his cheek in your palm, you pressed closer to him, lips lingering together for a long, wonderfully charged moment.

When he pulled back he was smiling faintly, but his eyes were serious. “Do you understand why it matters to me to know?”

You bit your lips shyly. “Well ... a girl can hope ... that it means you like it?”

He chuckled. “Close. Very close.”

“Okay, then tell me,” you pressed your thumb to his lips and tried to resist your smile as you felt his own grow under your touch.

“It means ...” he began slowly, letting the tension mount. “That I do like it of course ... but that I only like it because I feel the same way Y/N. I’ve been planning to ask you. I won’t now, not like this. But I will, soon. And when I do, I’ll hope your answer is yes... I’ll always hope your answer will be yes to me.”

Blinking away a tear, you buried your face in his throat and let out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” you said unequivocally, and cuddled closer to him.

He pressed his face into your hair and smiled. “Sleep?”

“Yes,” you said again, smiling wobbly.

“Do you love me?” He teased.

“Yes.” You replied fervently. “Yes, yes, yes.”

His palm pressed over the back of your head and held you closer, sighing contentedly. “I love you, too sweetheart. Always.”

#fluff #Romance #Nanami kento #Kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #my writings

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thejollywriter · 2 years

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The Beaker Crystal SAMPLE

IT’S HERE! FINALLY! A succubus doing interesting magic and encountering not-at-all-anticipated folks on the other side of the engagement. This story will be posted, in full, as I write it, on my patreon.

https://www.patreon.com/1thejollywriter

I hope you enjoy this sample! If you do, share it around, give other folks a chance to see a new story written under the combined auspicies of science fiction AND fantasy.

This is about a succubus, a necromancer, and an arcanist working together to topple a corporate tyrant in a space-faring fantasy future.

***

The rented shack had no windows. A roll-up door at the front, a normal door at the back, and vents on the sides. All of these were shut, and locked to visual inspection.

I stood off a little, pulled a coin from my pocket, and drew some of my energy to my fingers.

I didn’t know the exact language of the spell I murmured, I just knew what it did from an old incubus who mastered me many, many moons ago. Gilroy was a clever old fuck, wily in more ways than I could describe, and had a trick for every situation, pants on or off.

This was what he’d called a door-knocker, a trick taught to him by a Peruvian pirate as a trade for services rendered.

The point was to infuse something lightly heavy, like a rock or a full-gold Gilly, with a bit of divination magic; the purpose being, when the object connects with the barrier you’re testing, you’ll get knowledge about the kind of magic cast to make it.

Coin infused, I flicked it towards the shack’s door, the coin hung in the air, tumbling, for a long moment, before striking—

Not the door itself. White and red sparks met the coin but a few inches from the metal surface of the door, and my divination coin hit the ground with a dull thump.

“Huh.”

That told me nothing.

There’s a lot of different magic and there’s even more science to create force fields, locking wards, protective shields and the like. And none of them tend to react like that.

But! I am not a security specialist, and testing, identifying, and understanding warded doors isn’t my specialty. I wanted more information, and I now had it.

A locked shack warded by a transparent barrier that reacts with white and red sparks.

Wait Jacque would have the answer.

I fumbled for my scryer, nearly dropped the little cylinder of magically routed electronics, caught it.

Scrolled through my messages, found the most recent conversation, winced because he’d sent me a question and I’d never responded.

I saw the message. I meant to respond. I just forgot.

I called. Connection to the boosters in-station, to the sats in orbit, to the ground, hundreds of miles below, took less time than blinking.

He picked up, “Heh-hey!” He clapped, rubbed his hands together. “So you think about my offer?”

I remembered why I hadn’t returned his text. I ground my teeth together. “You know, I don’t really perform for camera.”

“I’m just saying, you’d make it hand over fist. They couldn’t give you the money fast enough.”

“If I say I’ll think about it, can I get a favor out of you?”

“Done.”

“Got a warded barrier I can’t identify. Basic reaction to tests demonstrate white and red sparks.”

“White is just heat,” I could almost hear him pacing in his shop. “Red however is odd because usually it’s necrotic energy but for the life of me I don’t know anyone who can, or would have the inclination to, cast wards using necrotic energy.”

“Not something you’d usually do?”

“I mean there’s no technical reason why you couldn’t, except that would require a necromancer who was inclined to subtlety. Which goes against the ethos of someone who raises the fucking dead.”

“Any other kind of warding it might be?”

“No.” Instant, confident. “There’s nothing. If its red sparks it’s probably—“

“Probably isn’t a definitive answer, Jacque.”

“I’m just staggered okay, and every discipline has its own meager way of casting wards, but I have never once heard of a necromancer being inclined to do so. Never heard of it being done, being taught, or being useful. Because, as you’ve noticed, the wards betray information about the caster, namely ability affiliation, and given how goddamn sneaky necromancers are ‘sposed to be, it don’t make much gods-be-damned sense that they’d be castin’ wards about.”

“So it’s someone trying to disguise their presence.” I said without confidence. This had been a useless call.

“That makes infinitely more sense. Good trick though.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen while you’re here, I’ve got this photogrammer I think you’d like, he’s real cool, casual like right you wouldn’t even him notice while we—“

“Talk to you later, Jacque.” I hung up.

I didn’t wanna do anything at this point. I don’t know how a conversation that involved no physical contact can leave me feeling so dirty, but there we are.

He was wrong, of course. I would notice someone filming me while I worked, and I would be terribly self-conscious the entire time. And obviously he was mistaken by what I’d witnessed with the sounding coin.

Something in that shed had erected a warded barrier with necrotic magic.

Which was peculiar unto itself. Not many ‘mancers about. Not many at all.

With my palm held low, I flicked my fingers, compelled the thrown coin to return to my hand. It did so, with a solid thwack.

The edges of the coin had been scored by the barrier.

Once again opening my channels of magic, I envisioned a different purpose; a speakogramn, a little message carried through the transductive metal of the coin.

It’d press against the barrier, get the attention of anyone on the other side, and maybe be heard.

“My name is Reka Ohammon,” I said. “I mean no harm, and I promise no danger. I worry for whomever has occupied this little cottage, and would ask to be invited in, that there might be understanding had about intentions and purpose here.”

I exhaled, closed the channels, and then threw the coin once again at the barrier. It struck the warding, held in the air briefly, before clicking dully against the metal door of the shack.

It disappeared briefly, and then the barrier flickered, collapsed, and the door flew open.

I flinched, took a step back, flexed instinctively, power surged in my right hand, it glowed with the energy I surged through the crystal—

I’d expected so many things to have been inside that shed. I did not expect her.

“Reka?”

“Aurelue?” I blinked. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Standing there, hands bloody, trembling, stood a tall, leanly muscled half-orc with short, filed-down tusks, black hair braided at her back, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a denim vest.

“I’m trying to save a life here,” she gestured to a prone woman inside the shack. “Can you help me?”

My feet unfroze, and I strode rapidly towards my ex fiancé.

#science fiction #fantasy fiction #original fiction #lgbt fiction #science fiction fantasy #the beaker crystal #the days that pass

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tloujm · 3 years

Text

Part XXVII: Captive

Author’s Notes: N/A

Genre: Angst

Summary: Joel and the rest of his patrol group find themselves in danger. You become emotional after receiving some startling results.

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel leaned forward against the counter as he wrote his entry into the log book. There wasn’t much to say. The little log cabin that acted as their first checkpoint was clear of any danger and showed no signs of tampering since the last entry. He closed the book and looked back at his two patrol partners. Marcus and Glen were resting in their respective spots. Joel figured it was time for him to do the same when he saw a shadow pass in front of one of the living room windows. His brows furrowed as his focus heightened. It could have been a number of things that he saw. Glen noticed his hardened demeanor and asked what was wrong. All Joel did in response was put one finger over his lips and wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the handle of his pistol.

One of the floorboards that made up the porch creaked. The sound went away just as quickly as it appeared as if a competent being had known they made a mistake and removed their foot from it. It was at this point, Joel knew it wasn’t just some lost deer roaming around the premises. The other men followed suit and aimed their guns at the entry points. The air was very still save from the dust particles that floated in ray of sunlight across the living room. It was also eerily quiet. The three of them exchanged quick glances. Joel was about to walk up to the door when it swung open from the outside. A small group of men rushed in and immediately opened fire.

Joel ducked and crawled over to the kitchen. He flipped the table over to use it as a shield. His thoughts immediately settled on the safety of his partners before he peeked his head out to see where everyone was. Marcus was hiding behind the couch. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stuck his hand out to shoot blindly at the attackers. Joel popped up from behind the table to shoot them. A bullet hit one of the men’s shoulder while another managed to hit another in the cheek, rendering him useless. He ducked back behind his makeshift shield a split second before a bullet could graze him.

The attackers were currently distracted by Marcus shooting at them again. Joel took this opportunity to crawl away and find another place for cover to catch them at a different angle. As soon as he peeked his head around the other side of the table, he saw a pool of fresh blood. His eyes followed it to the source to reveal Glen laying on the floor. His eyes stared blankly out at the wall in front of where his body laid. Joel quickly took cover behind the table again and gathered himself for a second before making a run for it.

With a rush of adrenaline, Joel shot at the attackers which inadvertently covered Marcus as he ran to another place of cover. He managed to wound them, but not kill any. They took cover behind the same couch Marcus used. During the few moments of stalemate, he noticed that only two took cover and if he killed one early, then that left one more…Joel’s vision suddenly went black a split second after a sharp pain shot through his head.

A pounding ache tormented Joel’s entire head. His vision first came back blurry then all at once clear. He pushed himself up from the cold cement floor into a sitting position. He noticed that it was significantly colder than before as he instinctively shivered. Large hunks of meat hung from hooks attached to the ceiling. His legs almost felt foreign under his weight as he got up. The sound of metal hitting something hard echoed into the room he was in. Following the source of the sound, he accidentally bumped into one of the hunks. As it swayed back and forth on the hook, Joel noticed features familiar to him. His eyes darted from the hair around the belly button to the nipples at the top. They widened in realization that the hunks of meat were human torsos and that the men who attacked him were cannibals.

A loud chop brought his attention back, leading him to cautiously follow the sound again. Quietly, he picked up a lead pipe off of a shelf on his way. He came to a halt at the doorway. A strange man’s back was to Joel as he hovered over a naked body on the table. One of the legs was already detached and pushed aside, almost falling off the table. The cannibal lifted his hand with the cleaver to do the same with the other leg when Joel ran up to him and pressed the pipe against his throat from behind. He gagged as the knife fell out of his hand. Joel applied more pressure against his windpipe as he brought his arms into his chest. His eyes flashed over to the bloody body on the table. If it wasn’t for the cannibal leaving the head on, he wouldn't have recognized him as his patrol partner, Marcus. Just like Glen, his eyes looked blankly on. They focused on a spot beyond Joel.

He released the pipe from its position against his throat and let him drop to the floor. Rage overtook him as he instead swung the pipe against his head. He kept at it until he was sure that he was dead. Even then, he wanted to add a couple more swings, but he knew that he wasn’t the only one he’d have to fight to get out of there. It wasn’t worth getting caught or spending extra energy on if he stayed to beat his head into a pulp. Hesitantly, he approached the dismembered body on the table and closed his partner’s eyelids before moving on to the next room.

******

Your foot tapped against the floor almost uncontrollably as you waited. You let your head fall into your hands as to avoid staring down at the stick on the counter. The sound of the door swinging open caused you to pop your head up to find Ellie on the other side of the bathroom.

“Uh, sorry. I forgot to knock.” She said in a low tone. It looked like she needed to pee, so you swiftly ushered her in and closed the door behind you. As the door clicked, you forgot to take the stick with you. Pacing back and forth in front of the bathroom door, you listened as she flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet. Surely she saw it just sitting there. You only stopped when she opened the door again. She stood there in front of you silently for a few moments. “Is that yours?” Her head nodded in the direction of the counter.

“Mmhmm.” You hummed and nodded. “Is it ready?”

Ellie turned and hovered over the stick. “Does two lines mean it’s ready?”

“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Fuck.” You began repeating the expletive before sitting back down on the edge of the tub.

You grabbed the stick to double check for yourself and there it was, two very distinct lines. If one line was faded, you would try to convince the nurse to administer you another test, but this seemed pretty definitive. You didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, you wanted this, but you still couldn’t help the nerves that flared up across your body. Guilt began to rise as you regretted not waiting for Joel to do this with. He would know how to feel. You continued to sit there, imagining him sitting on the edge of the tub with you. He’d take the test from your hands and double check the instructions from the box before smiling. You would imagine him engulfing you in a hug, tucking his head in your neck and mumbling some words of joy that you couldn’t quite discern.

Though the daydream offered a sense of comfort, you were snapped out of it when a real pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle. You looked down and saw Ellie sitting next to you on the edge of the tub. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. Her presence, while an accidental invasion of privacy, was welcomed. You repositioned yourself in her arms to hug her back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to curse in front of you.” You whispered into her hair.

“I’ve heard worse.” She replied with a playful tone in her voice.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Mmhmm.” She hummed lightly.

“That this stays between us.” You wipe a tear away. “I have to talk to Joel and then the doctor.”

“Who am I going to tell?” She said, referencing the fact that you’d never seen her converse with anyone else since she first spoke in front of you and Joel.

*******

“Hey, Tommy, give me a hand with this.” A resident of Jackson yelled out. Your head whipped around in his direction. You’d been looking for Tommy all day. The resident was sitting down near the stables trying to get a horseshoe off a huff. Tommy stepped out of the shelter and came into your view.

“Tommy, hey! I hope you’re not busy now. I’ve been looking for you actually.” You said when you got closer to them.

He bent down to get a closer look at the huff. “I always have time for you; you’re family. Now what’s wrong?”

“Well, Joel and ‘em aren’t back yet from their patrol. They were scheduled to be back two days ago. I know sometimes things happen that delay their travels---”

“Exactly.” He finally pulled the horseshoe off and tossed it into the dirt. “Any number of things could have happened out there that caused them to veer off plan. Those three are some of our most experienced patrolmen. We both know firsthand what Joel is capable of.” He noticed that his words were not easing the worry written across your face. “Did you know that I spent five extra days out on one of my patrols. It was the toughest route I ever did, but every decision we made as a group was for the betterment of our survival even if it meant staying out there a little longer. Five days really isn’t normal though. I’ll tell you what, I’ll get on the walkie and ask our scavenging group to see if they see any signs of them heading back. They should still be close enough to catch Jackson’s frequency. Their route is right next to Joel’s; it should be no problem for them.”

“And what if they don’t see any signs?”

“You know what our emergency policy is. We send out a search and rescue crew if the original group is not back within six days.”

“Does that not seem like it’s too long to you?” You asked.

“Like I said, especially on longer routes, they can be delayed for a number of reasons. I know it's not what you want to hear, but we’ve wasted resources and lost lives in the past to premature rescue missions.”

“Tommy, that’s your brother! Wouldn’t you want him to go out looking for you if you were out there possibly in trouble?” You said frustratingly.

“I know he would go out and look for me when it was time. Everybody who is cleared to patrol knows what the emergency rescue policy is. They were trained for situations like this just as you were. I’m sorry.” Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder as he tried to find compliance in your eyes. “I left my radio in the stable. I’ll go and try to contact the scavenging group now. Hopefully they are still in range.” You nodded before he walked off.

#TLOU #TLOUII #TLOU2 #thelastofus #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us joel #tlou joel #tlou joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel x fem!reader #Joel Miller x Fem!Reader #joel miller x you

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msmarvelouswinchester · 3 years

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Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 4 - My Apologies

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None

WC - 2551

Square Filled - Fluff ( @girl-next-door-writes's Make Me Feel Bingo); Neighbours AU ( @anyfandomfluffbingo )

A/N - A new chapter! Hope you enjoy reading this!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 <33

Series Masterlist Masterlist

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Adjusting her glasses on the nose, Y/N toyed around with the pen in hand, blankly staring at the kitchen wall. The empty sheet of paper sat there on the table, glaring at her. It was a bit old-school, considering her laptop was lying only a small distance away but this was how she preferred to work on her novel. It had nothing to do with her laziness.

The fear of another rejection was weighing heavily on her and she was really close to giving up on her dream of being an actually published writer. However, after her little pep talk to herself last night, she had this new indomitable spirit ignited inside her. Though that spirit was fading away with every passing minute now.

Y/N dropped the pen on the table with a huff, its metallic body hitting the wooden surface of the table as she got up to make herself a cup of coffee. Now, she might not want to admit it, but her novel wasn't the only thing that was troubling her.

A stranger’s callous comments should never hurt so much but when Dean called her stupid or rather a brainless idiot, for some reason, Y/N took it to the heart. She had then come to the conclusion that he was an ass and it was futile to even try and start a healthy relationship, but the bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter in front of her changed every perception of him yet again.

Ms. L/N, I didn't have any intentions of humiliating you. I'm really sorry. I hope you accept this small token of apology.

Walking up to the counter, Y/N picked up the small, white card and read the handwritten apology for the hundredth time that day. She didn't know if she should be impressed at his tacky methods of apologies or be annoyed at him for wrecking her mental sanity. Shaking off her thoughts, she was just about to dive back right into her writing when the coffee machine beeped.

“This is not gonna work.” She sighed, pouring one cup of the warm liquid and bringing it close to her lips. After finishing her drink, she decided to go out on a walk to clear her head but just as she stepped out of her house, she heard soft pitter patters of feet out in the hallway before a small figure of a hazel-eyed girl came into her sight.

Y/N tilted her head in confusion as the little girl ran in the halls. She looked around for her parents, but didn't see anyone else.

“Hey, pretty girl. What are you doing out here all alone?” She called out to the girl, making her stop in her tracks and look at Y/N.

“Daddy says not to talk to strangers.” She said while she cautiously approached the woman anyway.

“Where's your Dad?" She smiled softly, " I'm Y/N. See now you know me.”

“Daddy's-”

“I told you to stay inside, babygirl.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the all too familiar voice of her ridiculously handsome neighbor before the tall figure of the man himself appeared in front of her. His eyes were focused on the little girl as he walked up to her. Dean crouched down to her height, hands gently placed on her shoulders. “Never go anywhere alone again. Alright?”

Does he have a daughter?

But she had never seen the girl before. Y/N was in awe as she saw the grumpy facade fade away when he talked with her. She realised that there were so many things about Dean that she truly didn't know. Maybe she had, after all, misjudged him on some petty conflicts.

“At least your kid was within the building.” Y/N said.

“Ms. L/N.” Dean regarded and turned to look at her. He shuffled on his feet which made Y/N raise a curious brow.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester.” A look of guilt with an underlying hurt flashed in his eyes when she didn't acknowledge him by his first name. He was very sure his effort at a decent apology had been appalling and it made him wince, thinking of the awfully cringy card he had curated by his own hand to convey his regrets.

“She is pwetty.” The girl tapped his knee, attracting his attention while looking at Y/N.

“Y-yeah.” Heat crept up Y/N’s neck when she heard Dean agree with the kid. A moment of awkward silence passed as Dean looked back up at the woman, this time his gaze not faltering making the woman’s cheeks warm up even more. “She is pretty, baby.”

“You are prettier. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning in that dress and hair!” Y/N jumped in deciding to not make the situation more awkward. She hoped that Dean was maintaining his usual poker face, but instead, the corner of his lips tugged up in a little smile as the girl diverted her attention to Y/N.

“Uncle De did my hair.” She said proudly and Y/N stared at Dean. Uncle De? Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought of him to be such a gentle soul. She now remembered that the last time she saw Dean, he had told her about meeting up with his brother.

“He did an excellent job, I see.” The woman said as Dean got up and stood up straight. “What's your name, pretty girl?” She looked up at Dean, as he nodded his head.

“Ava.” She muttered.

“So Ava, remember next time to not go anywhere without Uncle De’s permission. Promise?” Y/N said and walked up closer to the two humans as Ava nodded her head agreeing to her proposition, all the while Dean’s eyes trailed along the woman's every movement. He was the best in his profession and he excelled at reading his client's body languages to figure out conflict, but Y/N was like a puzzle to him right now so he decided to take matters in his own hands.

“I hope you liked the flowers.” There it was, subtle, but at least he owned up to his apology. Y/N observed him for a moment, watching as he was nervously wringing his hands together. He seemed nervous around her. This wasn't the Dean Winchester she had come to know in the last few, quite unfortunate encounters.

“I did.” Y/N wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. He tightly held Ava’s hand to not let her out of his sight.

“De-” she pouted, “Uncle De!” The said man looked down at his niece.

“Stay put for a moment, babygirl. Uncle De needs to talk to this lovely young lady. Then we can go and get ice cream, like I had promised.” He said, before looking up at Y/N. “Listen, I'm sorry for what happened that day. I did not-” Sighing, Dean said before he was unceremoniously cut off by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

His face scrunched up as he stared at his phone screen. Sucking in a deep breath, he let the phone ring until the caller reached the voicemail. He chewed on his plump, pink lip when his phone lit up with a voice message. Y/N had an instinct he was avoiding someone, maybe an ex. Dean must have had some girlfriends.

“I'm sorry, I was saying-” the phone rang again and Dean was so close to throwing the little device against the wall.

“I think you should take that, which seems important. And I would leave you with your work things. I was going out for a walk anyway. Have a good day, Winchester.” Y/N said and walked right past the man.

“Hold up!” Y/N stopped walking before turning around to face the lawyer. “I never had the intention of hurting you.”

“Then you know the story wrong.” She said, shrugging

“Well if we study closely, the scarecrow was actually very intelligent but he never realised it.” Dean shrugged.

“So you're saying that I act stupid.” This time Y/N wasn't offended but she liked watching him squirm.

“N-no I didn't mean that-” He struggled to come up with yet another apology. “Can we drop the subject of the scarecrow? Let's just pretend the story doesn't exist in this context.” Y/N chuckled at the poor man, making him shake his head lightly.

“It's okay, Dean. Go, get the kid some ice cream.” She smiled.

“Join me for a drink sometime.” Dean blurted out without thinking. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he stared at Y/N, trying to gauge her reaction.

“I never pegged you for a guy to ask me for a drink.” She raised a brow at him.

“The card and flowers were pretty lame, I agree…but I do owe you a drink, or maybe a coffee, whatever you prefer.” He said. He knew his method of apologising was crappy but at that moment it was the best he could come up with. Dean never was a man of many words and he sucked at expressing his feelings so it was near impossible for him to think of anything better than this, but now he realised it would have been much better if he would have just knocked on her door.

“Sure.” Y/N nodded.

“How does tomorrow sound? Ava will be back with my brother by then. As you can see I kind of have my hands full right now.” He smiled. Y/N pondered over the sudden change in her hot neighbour’s behaviour. If this was the way Dean chose to open up to her, then so be it.

“Tomorrow sounds good,” she smiled back.

“G-great then!” Heat crept up his neck as he looked at Ava, a bit flustered. He didn't know what her deal was but she always rendered him speechless or stumbled on his own words, trying to form a good comeback. Y/N had an effect on him that neither Jo nor Lisa had ever had on him. Her perky attitude made him want to spend any time he got with her. They were poles apart but Dean found a sense of familiarity in her.

“I won't hold back you two any longer.” Crouching in front of the girl and ruffling her brown hair, Y/N said, “Don't settle with anything less than a triple scoop.”

“Don't give her any ideas,” Dean teasingly warned, “I have no idea how to deal with a kid on a sugar rush.”

“Then don't shy away from asking for a little help. I had to babysit my cousin's kids many times. I know a thing or two about babysitting,” Y/N said.

“I'll definitely take you up on that if things get out of hand.” He said, “See you tomorrow night. Have a good day, Ms. L/N.” He grabbed Ava’s hands tightly, pulling her close as he started to walk towards the elevator. Y/N shook her head, an amused laugh leaving her lips. Some things never change.

“I think the cupcakes worked their magic!” Dean teased, sharing a laugh with Y/N over a glass of Manhattan. This was the first time she had ever seen him laugh. Apparently, he was a happy drunk.

“Some roots of jasmine, rose thorns, a pinch of pearl dust and voila! You have the friendship potion,” She barely made it through with a straight face before bursting out in fits of laughter.

“I had a feeling that there was some kind of sorcery involved.” He said, signalling for another glass for both of them.

“This one’s on me,” Y/N said, making Dean scrunch up his face in an adorable pout.

“No it's not. I'm payin’, I was the one who asked you out.” His eyes immediately widened when he realised what slipped out through his mouth. “Not like an ‘asking out’ asking out. This is-” Dean waved at the space between them “-just a gesture of goodwill.”

“You're adorable.” Y/N giggled.

“What?”

“I know this isn't a date. Just two friends hanging out on a Sunday night.” She shook her head, chuckling as the man picked up his refilled glass and took a sip.

Even if Y/N said it was platonic, the ungodly amount of time she had spent in front of her closet to pick out a perfect outfit would definitely make her rethink her answer. She had skimmed through her closet, trying to find the dress that said ‘just friends’ but to her all the dresses she owned screamed ‘I want you to fuck me’.

Nevertheless, she had settled on a simple pair of blue jeans and a crop top. But she had felt seriously underdressed when she knocked on Dean's door and it had opened to reveal the man in a jeans t-shirt and black slacks, staring at her with a smile on his face.

“Well duh! My first impression of you kinda sucked.” Y/N said.

“I did warm up to ya, didn't I?” Dean chuckled. “Another round?”

“Nuh-uh. Sparkling water for me. I don't want to show up at work tomorrow puking my guts out. And that while nursing a painful hangover? No thanks” She laughed.

“You're no fun!” He chuckled with her.

“I am no fun? What about you, Mr. Turn-down-the-volume?” She said as the bartender pushed a glass of water towards her and poured out another to the man.

“You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He shook his head.

“Never.”

A moment of silence passed as Y/N looked across the nightclub buzzing with people just like any other Sunday night. She never thought Dean would be the person to even know about nightclubs around the city but guess she didn't know him that well.

“You wanna head back home? I can walk with you to your place, be all gentlemanly,” he smirked. She liked this drunk version of Dean. He was happier, far more cheesy and funnier than his workaholic version.

“Of course. It's not like we live in the same apartment,” she teased. “Hey, you wanna hit the dance floor before we go back?”

His eyes widened at her sudden question. “No, I don't dance.” He shook his head furiously, clearly stating that dancing was definitely not on his agenda.

“Oh come on, don't be shy.” She said.

“Nope.”

“Fine! You are no fun!” She rolled her eyes, “Let's get outta here then.”

The walk back to their apartment was filled with drunken giggles and cheesy banter. “I had a fun time tonight. Apologies accepted.” Y/N said, unlocking the door to her home.

“Glad to know that. I couldn't have lived knowing you hate me,” Dean teased, “I had a good time as well. I really needed a break from work.”

“So you do accept that you work too much?”

“Agree to disagree.” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway, “Night, Y/N.”

She walked up to the man and pecked his cheek, making his eyes go wide at the sudden affection. He swallowed hard as she stared up at him with hooded eyes. Patting his arms lightly, she said, “Night, Dean, see you in the morning.”

“Only if you're running late.”

Chapter 5

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