#Sinister Strange x OFC

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

“Okay, but I want to do that again. And again, and again, and again. With you; only you.” Sinister/OFC of your choice, please

Ugh...I honestly have no way to tell if this is any good at all. Please, if you read this and like it, let me know. I'm so blind in my writing block these days, I can't even judge when I've done something right.

Sinister Strange x Beauty Lincoln (OFC)

This...this shouldn't be happening, she was thinking.

Followed by, it's only a dream...it's just a dream...and I'm not really responsible for what happens in my dreams...am I?

But Beauty knew that wasn't quite right. This was a lucid dream; more than that, it was far from her first. Though it had been months and months since those last ones--and this was far more pleasant than those in the past--his lips on hers were like a taste of heaven after going far too long deprived of Stephen's kisses. She had to wonder, am I so lonely and pitiful and desperate that I'd seek out the dark version of the man I love...the polar opposite of the man who once loved me...just to feel desired again?

It takes two to make this dream we're sharing, precious.

She knew she was hearing his thoughts as likely as he heard her own. That was no surprise, and somehow neither was his assertion. You want this as much as I do, Beauty. I've been waiting a long time for you to let down your guard..."

The claim of his sensuous lips on hers only strengthened as he cupped her face in his powerful hands, further weakening her resolve to deny the forbidden connection between them. Inevitably, she allowed him to nudge her own lips to part enough and accept the slide of his tongue against hers. And of course, the flavor that filled her mouth when he did so was not like her Stephen's at all. Exotic, it was, like some dark rum spiked with unfamiliar spices and promises of a decadence she had never known.

How are you even alive? I saw him vanquish you. Her mind flashed back to the deadly flight of the Eldritch Sword, which her Stephen had used to pierce the black heart of that sinister version of himself. The one who had abducted her while she slept, into the Dream Realm as bait to draw her Stephen--whom he hated beyond any other--to his dying universe. That Dark Strange had died, and thus had troubled her dreams no more--so how was it even possible he haunted her dream now with a clarity that felt real?

Did you really think that was enough to kill me for good, sweetling? Your Stephen was either a fool or misled you. Either way, it matters not. All that matters now is this kiss...and what will follow.

What will follow? Cold panic pierced her mind. Wake up! Wake yourself now, her rational mind demanded, wake up before you cross a line too far...

Yet she was whimpering softly in the depths of his kiss, shivering with the heat this dark and wicked doppelganger had kindled in her flesh. A low growl rose from the center of his chest, and she could feel how pleased this sinister mage was with her inability to hide her sudden, terrible longing.

The advantage was all his as Beauty's will to fight off each new advance slowly melted away in the heat growing between them. This Strange kissed her like he already knew her weaknesses; as if he had studied her and understood her secret desires and was determined to satisfy each one. Surely just part of a game meant to steal her away from his nemesis, for his own ultimate satisfaction.

He twined the elegant, scarred fingers of one hand in her hair and slid his other to the center of her back, pulling her flush against him. The muscles beneath his tunic were as firm as she remembered Stephen's were. Tears prickled her eyes as Beauty reckoned how eternally long it had been since he had held her. And this all felt so goddamn good! She couldn't stop her hands from following the familiar pathways she had loved so well. One lay above his heart, with the other palm against the side of his neck. Despite the paleness of his flesh, it was warm enough to surprise her--while his strong pulse confirmed that this had to be more than a dream.

Mine...mine...mine...

That thought was faint, like the whisp of a whisper, as though this eldritch man hadn't meant for her to hear it.

A surge of anger filled her chest. No. I will not be a pawn in your quest for revenge. Her mind repeated it like a mantra until Beauty was able to pull away, out of his arms and out of the ecstasy of his kiss. She ran her hands through her hair, raising her face to Strange’s, practically hissing the words. 'I will not be your pawn!'

Though the most wicked creature she had ever encountered, his smile--Stephen's smile--had nearly the power to weaken her again. But it was his words that broke through the haze of her ire. 'Oh, sweetling. This has nothing to do with revenge.' Strange took a tentative step forward while Beauty held her ground. 'But I recognize your lonely heart because mine is more lonely than most people could ever fathom. Is it impossible for you to accept that I've been trying to reach you because I'm wanting you for you? For the lovely light of your soul that has called to me like a beacon. Like a promise of just a bit of redemption after the crimes that have stained not just my fingertips but my very soul black.'

Beauty lowered her gaze, fixing her sight on this Stephen's tremoring hands. In truth, she neither felt nor heard any trace of deceit in his confession. She was remembering her Stephen in their beginning days. How skittish he had been and how patient she had had to be. Offering him friendship in lieu of the far deeper love she had longed to lavish upon him. Would it be wicked of her to show this Stephen at least a little kindness? Especially as he was so alone in his reality, and she so lonely in hers?

'We'd have to set some ground rules,' she told him softly, reasonably. 'You can't just barge into my dreams when you feel like it, and you certainly have to honor whatever boundaries I set...' He was nodding his compliance, wearing that irresistible Stephen smirk, and his eyes, a deeper, richer blue than in her reality, seemed focused on her mouth. And somehow, she felt her lips tingle pleasantly with the rich memory of when their lips first met.

Okay, but I want to do that again. And again, and again, and again. With you; only you.That thought came through clear as day!

Beauty gave a little shrug, quietly pleased by his insistance, but determined that he'd have to prove himself before she granted him a single kiss more. 'Now, I have an early meeting tomorrow, so I really do need a full night's rest. And the next time you visit my dreams, we'll be spending the time together platonically. Does that work for you...Stephen?"

Sufficently chastened, Strange gave a courtly sort of bow, and then with a flourish, conjured a single, long-stem pink rose and handed it to Beauty. With that, he dissolved into a purple mist, his last words like an echo that followed her into a deep, contented sleep. Sweet dreams, Beauty, dear. As sweet as the kisses I will win from you someday soon.

kissing prompts

tagging: @strangelock221 @strangelockd

[multific]

Toxic

Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: In which you are just as bad as him if not worse.

You longed for love. Longed for someone to love you, and after many disappointments, you had enough.

After all, why be good? 

Why be good when in the end the one you love will choose someone else?

Disappointment after disappointment made you turn.

The magic you used soon turned dark and sinister. The dreams you caused to others turned into nightmares. Unimaginable pain and suffering, just like you were suffering, so were others.

And you were not afraid to go and look at other universes for love. Not at all. Sleepwalking came naturally after a while.

That is how you met Stephen Strange. You were the first Stephen came across and he couldn't kill. You intrigued him.

His dark aura was very different from the one in your dimension. He was looking for Christine but then, you became far more interesting.

Your powers, the possibilities and then your laugh. It all captured him.

And soon, you moved to his world. Moved to be with him.

And you were a joy to have. Not only your powers interested him but also you as a person.

Even if throughout the years you suffered a lot, he saw kindness in you, kindness towards him, but not others. You showed mercy to those who deserved it, which to your definition wasn't many people.

But he couldn't help but love that about you.

Every day, as you looked around this corrupt world, seeing how twisted and broken it was, it reminded you of yourself. This is how you felt on the inside most of the time, but not since you met him. Stephen changed you for the better, not too much though.

He still had the Darkhold, which interested you very much. You asked him to let you read it, but he refused. Instead, he put a spell on it, for you to never be able to read it.

Stephen knew there will be no stopping you if you read that book.

"I don't need anything, the Darkhold would not be able to consume me, I have everything I'd ever want." you said as you looked at the book and then at him.

You wanted to know what's inside that book, yes, but you didn't need it. And if Stephen didn't want you to, you were not going to.

You stood by the stairs, looking at the sky in front of you. The beach, they said, how broken this universe was, but in your eyes, it was beautiful. So beautiful.

It was chaos, but comforting chaos.

"We could go for a walk." said Stephen as he appeared behind you. You turned and smiled at him.

"I'd love that." he held his hand out and you took it, the door opened in front of you and the two of you walked around.

For others, this place was hell, but for the two of you, heaven. A place where you could be together, and nothing else mattered.

There was something about Incrusion that made you so interested. You know how it was achieved, but you had no idea it could be this gorgeous. Destruction, danger and complete silence.

This universe was perfect not only for its beauty but because it had your Stephen.

What more could you ask for? You finally had what you wanted. He had finally what he never knew he needed. He wanted Christine, but got something much better, you.

Stephen tightened his grip on your hand as you spotted a tower, flying, about to hit another then it went back. Everything was so calm. You looked at Stephen.

"I love you." you said and he smiled, a genuine, not sinister smile on his face.

"I love you more, My Queen." he said before leaning in to kiss you.

And you two kissed in that chaos. In the chaos where you both found love.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow​ ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead​ feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster​ celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll​ snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow​ @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs​​​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[crimsonji]

Hello! Thank you for doing requests! I absolutely adore your work - you're a real blessing for the fandom :)

So it'd make me so happy to get an request done by you so I will try my luck and submit smth: how about a Cyno&Tighnari with a gn reader who tends to purr right beside their ear to get themself out of a situation cause they know they're so weak for them and their purring at the end of a sentence. Sometimes it works, sometimes it does not. We know how Cyno and Tighnari can be sometimes but I just find it so appealing to get them flustered cause of smth simple like this heh. (If you dont want to write for both, you can choose one ofc!)

Thank you in advance! Have a wonderful day

୨୧ cyno and tighnari get flustered from their s/o

ft. tighnari, cyno x gn!reader (seperate)

cw: fluff, vry short

>> 🍁 kazuha’s musings : ahh thank u for the compliment I’m happy,,,ty for this request it was very cute! I hope YOU have a wonderful day

✦ Tighnari

Tighnari's sense of hearing is extremely heightened compared to humans, and the first time you unexpectedly brought your lips close to his ear and let out the softest purr you can muster. He keeps a straight face, but the sudden twitch of his ears and the stiffness of his tail was a clear enough indication that your little trick worked like a charm.

He'll be quick to recollect himself, shooting you an unamused look before flicking your forehead as punishment "Don't think you can get away with this by doing... that." Tighnari acts all straitlaced, but you can see the pink blush on his cheeks when he finishes his sentence. He could fake any expression with mastery yet the angle and flick of his fox ears always gave away his true feelings, and he hated how obviously flustered he was whenever his ear twitched against the low purr from your lips. And archons, the knowing smirk that danced across your features only made Tighnari feel more embarrassed.

Really, Tighnari holds himself in higher regard than not getting so tongue-tied over a kitty purr, but he guesses the moment he caught feelings for you was the day he gave up said dignity. He found you attractive more than he'd like to lead on, and a strange part of him partially enjoyed the sound—even if it meant you were just trying to save face. There was an instance where you had snuck off from your forest ranger duties for whatever reason, and soon enough Tighnari had caught you and was fully prepared to give you a wordy lecture. But every word got stuck in his throat when you oh-so innocently pleaded with him, that annoyingly soft purr hitting Tighnari's sensitive ears.

He only sighs, chastely rubbing at his ears and pinching your cheek with a mean glare "Fine, fine, you win. Don't think this isn't gonna have any consequences, though."

Said consequence was that your ear scratching and tail petting privileges were taken away for a short while. Can you blame him, though? It’s your fault you make him feel this way…

✦ Cyno

Cyno was... caught off guard, to say the least, and it's very rare to see "Cyno" and "off guard" in the same sentence. Maybe this would be strange to some people, but the General Mahamatra had happened to be a lovesick fool when it came to his partner. Basically everything you do has him enthralled and captured in your grasp, but he seldom expresses these intense feelings of his like a moron. He visibly stiffens when that lovely sound leaves you, whatever he was mildly scolding you about almost being completely forgotten as Cyno's mentally processing what he just heard come from you. It was cute, he thought, purposely attempting to not meet your sly gaze while still trying to come off as intimidating (It didn't work very well, but at least you were amused.)

He does his best to save face by faking a cough, fist hiding his bit lip and a tinted red to his dark skin. He watches you smile happily, glints of sinister thoughts behind your features; but before he could say anything, you were already gone... Did Cyno really let you get away? And with little to no effort, too, just from a purr. At this point, Cyno's realized his utter defeat to you, almost mad at himself for falling for such a typical tactic. You're lucky you're pretty because anyone else who could try this would be met with the sharp edge of Cyno's golden polearm.

No matter how many times you've done this Cyno still feels just as flustered as the first time, stomach tied into a million knots and heart practically melting at the ringing of his ears. It's surprisingly easy to rile him up like this, even if you felt taken aback when you saw the profound effect it had on your lover. However, if you pulled your little stunt in front of others, it'd be so difficult for Cyno to still seem apathetic, praying to any archons listening that his friend Tighnari doesn't see the subtle changes in his speech or body language—unfortunately for him, it seems that Tighnari had seen right through Cyno just like you had.

Poor guy's so confused, too, on why he feels so strangely fuzzy at the sound of your purring, an action so plain in itself yet making the matra's heart swell... He might be a bit more lenient if you do this in the privacy of your home, stripped of all his inhibitions and letting himself adore you to pieces.

[dino-fart]

Plan for the Week

Hi Everyone,

Thank you for being so patient and still following despite my lack of content.

I still have requests open and prompts to choose from.

At this moment in my inbox is one request which I will be completing tomorrow.

As for the stories, here is my plan:

In the Dragon’s Lair - Stephen Strange!AU x OFC - Chapter 1

The Swan and the Spider - Sinister Strange!AU x Reader - Chapter 1

The Wendigo Forest - Strange Supreme x Reader - Chapter 2

The Hero’s Doctor - Supreme Strange x Reader - Chapter 1

Siren of the Sea - Defender Strange x Reader - Chapter 1

Favorite Features - Multi Strange x Reader - Chapter 1

In Reina In Waal - Namor x Reader - Chapter 4

The Hunt - Sherlock Holmes x Reader - Chapter 1

The Sith and The Mandalorian - Din Djarin x Reader - Chapter 1

The ‘Miracle’ - Joel Miller x Reader - Chapter 6

The Princess and Her Galaxy - Bo-Katan x Din Djarin x Reader - Chapter 3

Heartbreak and Headaches - Joel Miller!AU x Reader - Chapter 1

The Fall of A Kingdom - Pedro Pascal!OC x Reader - Chapter 1

The Blood Moon - Pedro Pascal!OC x Reader - Chapter 1

Let Me In - Pedro Pascal!OC x Reader - Chapter 1

Dear Sister - Pedro Pascal!OC x Reader - Chapter 1

Like you want to be tagged in one or all of these!

[keravnos-kori]

return to sender - chapter three: best and brightest

ofc x tech (eventual)

word count: 5.1k

rts masterlist // ao3 link

summary: halla has been alone for the past three years. as it turns out, relocating to coruscant and attending a prestigious university hasn’t been as glamorous as she originally expected - but when a new opportunity comes along for her to prove the republic’s injustices committed against clone troopers, she might get more than she bargained for when the power structure suddenly collapses and is replaced by something far more sinister…

a/n:...let's pretend it hasn't been almost three years since i've updated

~~~~~~

“Are we there yet?”

A collective sigh reverberated throughout the cabin. Tech bit his tongue, but couldn’t help his eyes from rolling. “For the eighth time, Wrecker, you’ll know we have reached our destination when we drop out of hyperspace.”

The largest member of the Batch released an irritable groan from his position on the floor, resting his head on the cool durasteel siding that made up the Marauder’s interior.

“Does it always take this long? I never have to pay attention since Crosshair-…” Wrecker trailed off, the circumstances that led them to Saleucami in the first place overtaking his thoughts.

There was a tense silence that spread between the cockpit and main hold, cut through after a moment by the newest member of the crew. “I’m sure it can’t be that much longer!” Omega reassured. The young girl swiveled around in the co-pilot’s seat to face the rest of her companions, feet barely brushing the ground.

Tech glanced up from his datapad to assess the chronometer on the console closest to him. “Your intuition is correct. We are expected to make the drop in approximately one-half standard hour.”

Turning to follow Omega’s gaze, Tech noticed Echo nodding somewhat absently at the communications panel. Hunter continued to pace the length of the ship’s main compartment, fingers twitching near the holster of his vibroblade: a habit only initiated when his patience was wearing thin.

Staying glued to his datapad was the most effective way to keep Tech’s mind occupied in the moment. There was a lot to process from the past few days, and while he was mentally capable of doing so, he was not sure he was prepared to open up emotionally in front of his brothers about his concerns.

This seemed just fine with the others, as they had yet to discuss the implications of Crosshair’s departure either.

Having to leave their brother behind was a difficult decision, to say the least. Though Crosshair began to act strangely on Kaller, the Batch chalked it up to his severe disposition and assumed he was in a sour mood from all the contradictory orders. It wasn’t until their mission in the Onderon sector that things got out of hand.

Disobeying Hunter to his face. Threatening civilians. A total lack of disregard for how they always operated.

All in all, Tech felt as if he’d failed Crosshair, and not just from departing without him.

For not being able to see the warning signs sooner.

They’d always been close. As close as anyone could be to Tech, and vice versa with Crosshair.

Flashes of their days as cadets flashed in Tech’s mind. Everything that they’d gone through together, first as a quartet for the majority of their enhanced lifespans, then with the welcome addition of Echo to their squad. What was it all for if they left each other behind?

Wasn’t that what made them who they were from the very beginning?

Tech inhaled deeply, clearing his thoughts.

Crosshair’s absence wasn’t the only thing troubling him. Nearly 12,400 parsecs away was a civilian he had, for weeks now, kept contact with.

Against Republic regulation.

Tech had his own creative methods of bending the rules, but this went against his training completely.

He accepted her request for academic assistance on a whim. Resisting pursuits of knowledge was not where his strengths lie.

But that wasn’t all…

This civvie, this woman, was in the very heart of Imperial territory from what Tech was able to glean from scattered radio waves. In his last transmission, he was able to relay recent events to her and provide a warning to escape before anything worse happened in her vicinity.

Her.

Halla.

Contact attempts would have to be few and far between them now. He was effectively on the run from his creators and she was subject to increased surveillance in the capital.

The thought was not a pleasant one.

He was confident in his ability to take care of himself despite the circumstances, but she was just a student - albeit a rather intelligent one. Tech knew, though, that intellect and survival skills were nowhere close to being in the same category. The best he could hope for would be that she keeps her head down and book passage to a system not known for its ties with the centralized government; much like his own plan.

Redirecting his attention back towards his screen, Tech’s heel began to bounce beneath the control yoke as he began to brainstorm potential solutions. How could he provide assistance from such a distance away? What good would he be to her if they had no method of communication?

Straightening his back, Tech decided to compose a new message before he had to switch back to piloting manually.

If he was capable of modifying his signal to become untraceable (which he was and did), and he provided instructions to Halla to do the same, would it not be logical to assume their transmissions could resume without external interference?

There was a flurry of typing as Tech did all he could to explain, down to the minutiae, the process of concealing one’s transmission identifier, holonet mask, and localized device positioning mechanism.

Child’s play for him, in the grand scheme of things, but not for an individual with no engineering experience whatsoever and who had once admitted to him that she’d once fallen for a basic malware ploy that resulted in unsavory Neimoidian images to be downloaded on to a University-owned device.

On that note, Tech made an effort to be as thorough with his directions as possible.

Once the list was drawn up and revised for clarity, Tech took a moment to check the chrono once more: T-minus four minutes until the drop. Satisfied with the results of his work, Tech wrote a quick note near the top of the message and addressed it before sending it off.

Clipping the datapad back onto his utility belt, Tech began his routine of sublight prechecks.

If Crosshair couldn’t be helped right now, maybe Halla could.

~~~

Halla was not a morning person.

She did not enjoy drinking caf or planning how she was supposed to be productive that day. Most of all, she hated waking up before noon on a good day. If it weren’t for the bitterness she felt at the news she received yesterday, Halla would still gladly be nestled in bed.

But no. Here she was, bright and early at 08:00 hours, waiting for an audience with her new graduate advisor.

The administrative complex was just as big and expensive as the rest of the buildings across campus, filled with similar indoor-friendly greenery and back-breaking duraplast seating. The newest addition, besides the drab gray and white uniforms milling about, was the massive tapestries emblazoned with the newly minted Imperial cog draped liberally both in and outside all University structures.

Halla imagined they were meant to display “indomitable allegiance to the cause” or something of the like, but the only impression she was left with was how badly the shades of black clashed with the pristine white and emerald interior.

From her position in the foyer, Halla could still hear the protestors on the steps outside only meters away. It was a diverse bunch, much like the former populace of the college, all holding signs and chanting something along the lines of “hey hey, ho ho, racism’s got to go!”

It had been embarrassing to walk past them, entering the building with her loose hair as a partition between herself and the crowd. She would have joined in, and might’ve said as much to them if she weren’t trying to avoid the scrutiny of the security guards holding a barrier in place.

She was a traitor.

Halla’s meeting with the Dean was not exactly on his daily agenda. She had figured his last message counted as an open invitation, leading her to plaster on a cheerful smile at the check-in center and con her way onto the visitor list.

A list. For who exactly?

Besides a few spare personnel milling about, there was a distinct lack of student activity taking place inside. Halla never saw anyone go into the Admin Complex ahead of her, and there was no one else in the lobby to follow her up either.

They’re just wasting your time to establish authority. Be patient.

Patience was never Halla’s strong suit.

Eons (or maybe just another handful of minutes) passed before the receptionist flagged her down and led her to the lift. Riding up to the story hosting the Dean’s Offices, Halla was cast off to the next administrator who directed her to stand outside a room labeled Aurek Suite.

The pneumatic door opened, though no one was standing at the control panel. Instead, a man was sitting behind a barren desk, the high back of his chair rising over his head.

Arlin Sreetus looked to be the poster boy of the imposing aesthetic his employer was implementing across the planet. Perfectly parted hair, piercing blue eyes, and not a speck on his uniform. Neat, clean, manicured down to a level that was almost unsettling to gaze upon.

Halla felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She wasn’t prepared for when he opened his mouth.

“Miss Ismaren, so nice to finally match a face to its name. Please, come in and sit.” He greeted her from across the room.

Halla had to bite the inside of her mouth to prevent herself from doing something she’d regret. The Dean’s voice was not suited for the body that produced it, much too nasally and broken to fit the façade that went along with his flawless white jacket.

Once she trusted herself to speak again, Halla released the inside of her cheek from between her molars, quickly striding across the office and finding her seat across from the Dean.

How am I supposed to stay angry with this slime when I’m too busy trying to keep myself from laughing?

“Good morning,” Halla greeted, tone as stiff as she could manage.

Sreetus glanced at the terminal in front of him before addressing Halla again.

“I see you’ve received my message,” he said.

“I have,” she responded.

He raised his eyebrows, and Halla had to wonder if he even knew she wasn’t here to be on friendly terms.

"I've reviewed your academic profile," he started. “Impressive credentials you have here… near-perfect grade point, published research commendations, federal volunteer work.” His eyes continued to flit back and forth between her and his screen as he spoke. “Very impressive, indeed.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Halla deadpanned.

The Dean’s nose twitched, barely noticeable but present nonetheless.

“I also noticed while reviewing your file that you have yet to register for your chain code. Every Imperial citizen is required to have one. Is there a reason you don’t?” He asked patronizingly.

Register? Chain codes?

Halla froze for only a half second before she attempted to brush the question off.

“I was planning on getting around to it soon. I’ve been rather busy with my research, as you could imagine.” She said pointedly.

Sreetus leaned back in his chair, blue-and-red rank plaque upon his chest shining under the bright fluorescent lighting. “Ah, yes. Your clone studies. I’m glad you decided to visit today so we can redirect you towards more…productive outlets.”

Halla bristled, “With all due respect,” which is none, “I believe my current track is the most productive use of my time. You can see from my portfolio, I’ve worked in this area for the past few yea-”.

Sreetus spoke up, effectively steamrolling over her protests before she could even elaborate on her position.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of your past endeavors Miss Ismaren,” he groused. “No need to recount every detail.”

“But, I-”.

“There are better opportunities for you now, Miss Ismaren. I understand you hold special interests, but it is time to leave them in the past. The present is where you need to be, with the rest of us - helping to drive society forward.”

More like helping to send it into an authoritarian backslide.

Her silence prompted him to keep speaking, not that there was much time to pipe up anyway.

“You’re lucky, you know. To have such connections in your life capable of putting your name forward for such an exclusive position.”

If anything in the past twenty-four hours took Halla off guard, that comment was it.

“I’m…not sure what you mean.”

“An in. An assignment within the Imperial Service Corps. - the Security Bureau.” Despite the smug look on his face, Halla got the sense that behind his words lay a twinge of envy. “A personal recommendation from your father.”

No.

That couldn't be right.

“Sorry, you must be mistaken. My father, my biological father - we don’t speak. I haven’t seen him since I was eleven, haven’t heard anything from him directly since the start of the war. And besides, he has nothing to do with Security or whatever Service Corps. you’re talking about. He’s been in the Navy his entire career.”

Sreetus pushed on, “Forgive me then, for assuming you held contact. His surname was never redacted from your official record,” He cleared his throat and began reading off his screen. “Age: twenty-two, birthplace: Coruscant, full legal name: Hal’lazorinda Naimina Sileas Ismaren-Y-”.

Before he had the chance to finish his recitation, Halla found herself cutting him off, “I don’t go by that name. Ever.”

“And yet you use the rest…” He huffed under his breath. “Despite your…strained familial relationship, I am not mistaken. Your father’s honorable service during these past years has earned him his new position within the ISB. The request has been logged and attached to your file.” Reaching into a side drawer, Sreetus pulled out a datapad and set it squarely in front of her, already loaded with a page full of text displayed.

Taking a deep breath, Halla kept her gaze steady on the man in front of her as she reached for the device, only lowering her gaze once it was in her possession. She took a moment to skim through the first paragraph, then scrolled down to the bottom to see her father’s digital signature signing off.

Halla was dumbfounded. Why would he do something like this for her? Why now?

Feeling that she’d seen enough, Halla returned the datapad to the desk in front of her. During her review of the document, her brows had furrowed so deeply that she knew she would have a headache coming on later. All she could think about was her father’s blurry face imposed on the body of the grumpy UC archive officer.

“Now that you understand the full extent of the situation, I must counsel you to follow through with this offer. Not many your age have the chance to pass directly into the Corps. with the minimal training you have. Your only requirement would be to fulfill the Royal Imperial Academy’s junior officer preparation, maybe a basic close combat course once you are stationed. From there, you can climb to any other position you deem worthy.

Given your father’s status and the Emperor’s need for the brightest minds to fulfill his vision, the position has been tailored for you, specifically. Despite the nature of your outdated research,” Halla had to bite back a scathing remark at that comment, “you will be a perfect fit for what has been reserved.”

Halla found her head shaking ever so slightly as he finished his tirade. She had to play this safe to avoid skepticism of her loyalty, but was finding that harder and harder to do the longer this meeting went on.

“While that sounds…promising, I really have no intention of relocating anywhere without knowing where it is. Is this position intended to keep me on Coruscant?”

Sreetus pressed his thin lips together before speaking, “I am not at liberty to say. Given the confidential nature of this assignment, even I am not privy to its location. The ISB would be the organization briefing you, not the University.”

And yet you know so much about everything else…

The air around them was tense as a stare-off commenced across the desk, Halla schooling her features to match his.

He broke first. Halla’s one victory of the day.

“I sense we may be at an impasse right now. Take the day to think of what I’ve said, I will confer with the Bureau Chief and let him know I’ve spoken with you.”

Halla tilted her head and grinned, though she was sure it came off a little more sarcastically than she intended. “No issue.”

Rising from her seat, Halla turned her back on the whiny sycophant and made her way back toward the exit.

“Miss Ismaren.” Halla halted inches from the door, but did not turn around. His voice was the most severe it had been all morning.

“You would do well to learn just how far His Majesty’s power reaches. You will either join and thrive, or you may only get far enough to learn what it means to be against him. Do choose wisely, young lady. Oh, and don’t forget to register for your chain code.”

Halla didn’t remember how she found herself back downstairs, head overtaken by the dense fog of the Dean’s hidden threats.

The streets were mysteriously empty of protestors when Halla left the lobby.

~~~

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:18

Recipient: Tech

Subject: Re: Comms Assistance

I followed your instructions to the letter, I hope I did everything right. Thought it was funny you bothered to assign me a code name - remind me to ask you about it some other time. Wanted to send a quick message to tell you my line is secure now, though I don’t know for how long now after this morning.

I met with a Uni rep who tried to recruit me into a service corps. Asked about a chain code? Didn’t know if you had any info. Either way, I’m on my way to the port to book passage off-world like you said. Will update you when done.

Stay safe out there,

Zenith

*Transceiver Identification: 02-91-31.cv.modified*

~~~

“What do you mean my credits aren’t valid? They’re galactic standard!”

A tinny response came from behind the transparisteel partition, the attendant droid repeating its earlier message: “Please be advised: your payment method has been declined. We ask that you exchange your outdated currency at the Commerce Bureau and return with the correct tender, along with a valid chain code to access the flight directory. Have a pleasant day!”

“I don’t know what you mean by outdated. Credits are credits!”

The droid’s optical sensors seemed to bore into her. Halla crossed her arms.

“Please be advised: your payment method has been declined. We ask that you exchange your outdated currency at the Commerce Bureau and return with the correct tender, along with a valid chain code to access the flight directory. Have a pleasant day!”

Halla glared up at the booth, scooping her credit chit back with more force than necessary. Pushing away from the service shelf, she couldn’t help but throw a venomous “Go to Hell!” over her shoulder. The droid only called the next person in line to come forward.

Turning on her heel, Halla stalked back to the self-checkout kiosk and punched in her information again.

And again.

And again.

Each time, a blinking red alert popped up with a message similar to that from the service desk.

Invalid Identification. Please see an attendant for assistance. Have a pleasant day!

“Blast it!” No matter the destination, no matter the departure date, all itineraries were locked behind a paywall, accessible only by, you guessed it, the correct tender and a valid chain code.

Before she could make a scene by tearing her hair out in the middle of the Spaceport, Halla stowed her chits and stalked out of the Boarding Registry.

~~~

Looking back on that awful day, Halla didn’t know why she expected it to get any better once she left the port.

Arriving back at her apartment went about the same as it normally would, except for when she stepped off the 19th-floor lift and rounded the corner to find her front door missing.

Or rather, her front door was wide open for the whole building to see inside.

Surging forward, Halla gripped her doorjamb and surveyed the interior.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Her voice shook against her will.

No reply.

With great caution, Halla entered her sitting room.

Silence.

She began to check out every inch of the space, from the floor to the ceiling and everything in between to find anything amiss.

Bewildered, Halla took a step back.

If someone had entered her home, they’d done a lousy job of burglarizing her.

Everything was as it should’ve been. Her plants, her holovids, the art on the walls, all still in their rightful place. Even Boonta was still floating around his tank without a care in the world.

Did the door just…malfunction?

For all the grief it’d given Halla over the years, the entrance’s one redeeming quality was that it was secure. It had never just opened up on its own accord before.

Padding into her bedroom, she continued to look around and take her valuables into account.

That was until she came upon her workspace.

On the ground beneath her desk was a large gap.

A large, empty gap where her holoterminal used to be.

Halla felt the blood drain from her face as her eyes went wide behind her specs.

Kriff.

Fuck!

There’s no way this is happening…

Wheeling around, she began searching every nook and cranny of her apartment for the missing console, even the spots she knew would be too small to fit it.

Halla had everything on that machine. Everything.

Her contacts, her financial information, the full draft of her dissertation.

Her entire life’s research.

Gone. All gone.

Halla stopped looking. She considered her options before going back out into the main hallway. She was sure her neighbors didn’t appreciate the way she was repeatedly punching their buzzers, but she didn’t know what else to do. Half of them didn’t open up and those that did claimed nothing out of the ordinary happened that day when asked if they had any clue what happened.

Dejected, Halla returned to her apartment making sure to enforce another lock if only to create a false sense of safety.

Safety, my ass.

She paced around for about a minute or two, running her hands over her forearms. Two minutes turned into ten.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

She could only reach one conclusion, as paranoid as it made her come across; the same person - or group - that did this was the same as who she should’ve been reporting the crime to.

This was no petty theft. This had to be intentional.

Recollections began to invade her mind; Sreetus’ ominous warning, the apparent leeriness around her not being a registered citizen, and the Imperial officer she’d seen occupy her terminal in the UC archive.

She’d given no thought about the latter since it happened, but now she couldn’t help but think he was following her digital trail, digging into whatever he could scavenge from her session.

Halla had wiped her search history, but…

Leave it to the security agency to be able to pull it back up.

Letting out a defeated moan, she slapped her palm across her forehead.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

~

Halla ended up hunkered down in the sitting room for the rest of the night. She felt like a stranger in her own home, vigilant of intruders that might return at any time.

Lying on her sofa, she kept a hand on the go-bag she packed earlier in the evening. The pack included any and all essentials she would need in case a quick getaway was needed: her personal datapad (that still had all the supplemental research she downloaded, thank the Maker), its powerpack, her data and credit chits, and a hygiene bag containing her toothbrush, dental gel, deodorant, hair brush, a travel razor, and other similar items.

Her extra set of glasses, contact pods, and a small medkit she kept stowed under her kitchen sink were also shoved down too. An extra set of boots were folded up at the bottom of the main compartment with as many leggings, tunics, sweaters, camisoles, and underwear as she could roll up laying on top of them. The side pockets were bulging with her filtered water bottle on one side and non-perishable snack foods on the other.

It was hard to prioritize what to leave behind, even in a hypothetical scenario. Halla treasured her possessions: her makeup, her jewelry, her art, and her music collection, not to mention her collection of flimsi-bound books she’d accumulated over the years, uncommon as they were.

In the end, she decided to place only the earrings she’d inherited from her grandmonna in a small pouch and wear the matching pendant around her neck for safekeeping. The music was already downloaded onto her datapad, and most of the art was obviously too large to fit in the pack, sans her sketch diary and a pouch of drawing implements which she included on impulse. After careful deliberation, Halla decided to choose one particular flimsi novel from her shelf to keep with her, due to its objective value as an antique as well as the number of times it’d been read since the initial purchase.

Halla had practiced walking around her apartment with the go-bag strapped to her back, adjusting the order of its contents as needed. Once she was satisfied, she decided to make camp out where she could be the most aware of her surroundings.

Every sudden noise made her flinch as she tossed and turned her head, never shifting from the position on her back as uncomfortable as it was. No amount of breathing exercises or words of affirmation made her feel any more secure.

How do I know I’m not being watched right now?

Time passed slowly in the dark as Halla thought of her odds of escape.

In her mind, she created a chart of pros and cons when it came to registering herself, if only to have the opportunity to get off-planet.

Pro: I’ll have access to credits that work again.

Con: Who knows what they’ll do with the information I give them?

Pro: I’ll be able to book passage out of here.

Con: What if they’re able to track where I go?

Pro: It’ll get everyone who thinks I’m against them off my back.

Con: I am against them.

Pro: It would draw attention away from-

Halla gasped, eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling.

From Tech. It would draw attention away from Tech.

He was on the run right now with the rest of his squad with a little girl in the mix now. If Halla submitted to the registry, the suspicion of her (and them by proxy) would ease up. For the Maker’s sake, she had regular correspondence with him stored on her now-confiscated holoterminal! The last few messages were never uploaded to the main drive, as they only existed on her portable device, but she couldn’t risk their safety for her own selfishness. She was risking potential charges of treason or conspiracy at this point.

If I just go and do it, maybe they won’t feel the need to snoop around more than they already have…

The decision began solidifying in her mind, despite the apprehension of what might come after.

Halla fell into a fitful sleep, fingers still clutched around the strap of the bag that rested below her.

~~~

The local Coruscanti star’s natural light didn’t reach the level Halla’s apartment resided on, so she had to rely on the day cycle atmospheric controls to tell when daybreak was.

Back aching and eyes half open, Halla bathed and dressed while her morning tea was heating up. Travel mug and protein bar in hand, she made her way to the Commerce Bureau before the line could get too long.

Spending more time there than she had anticipated, she emerged hours later with a pit in her stomach, a pouch full of polished silver credits, and a new chaincode embedded in a rather unambiguous ID card.

Soon after she returned home, Halla composed a message from her school address:

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:19

Recipient: Arlin Sreetus, Dean

Subject: Chain Code Acquisition

Dean Sreetus,

This morning I was able to obtain my chain code, I thought you would have liked to know. I’ve considered the offer you conveyed to me and have chosen to accept. Please inform the appropriate figures in this matter that I am able to begin as soon as is convenient.

Good day,

Halla Ismaren

University of Coruscant

College of Interplanetary Law & Relations

Capital Campus

Halla wanted to feel confident in her decision, but all she felt was numb all over.

Like she had just signed her own death warrant.

She didn’t look at her datapad for the rest of the day.

This is for them.

This is the right thing to do.

~~~

Inbox: (1) Unread

Date of Transmission: 1,013:04:19

Recipient: Zenith

Subject: Chain Codes

Zenith,

I am pleased you found my instructions comprehensible, however, this is not the main issue I wish to address.

I assume you encountered difficulties while at your local spaceport due to not having a chain code in your possession. We also have run into trouble because of this new database. We were able to rectify this issue for ourselves, but I must warn you about the dangers surrounding these identifiers. If you provide me additional time, I will come up with a solution for you to get around these requirements as well.

I do not presume to direct your actions; I can only provide my opinion based on what I have seen during my latest travels.

Under no circumstances should you obtain one of these codes voluntarily. I will be able to elaborate at a later date, all I ask is that in the meantime you take my judgment into account.

-Tech

~~~~~~

taglist (comment/dm to join): @wenalena @envyspinebender @shannon-lynn-21 @kimageddon

[enhastars]

FLICKER

༊*·˚ — flicker | sim jaehyun horror!au

FEATURING! jake x reader

GENRES! psychological horror, thriller, mystery, paranormal, enemies to lovers, non idol!au, slowburn

WARNINGS! mature themes, swearing, gore, vivid imagery, bisexual jaehyun (he had a fling w/ hee), paranormal activity, mentions of religion. nothing sexual (mentions)

STATUS! ongoing, irregular updates

PLAYLIST! fever (enhypen), animals (maroon 5), mind games (sickick).

TLDR!

“seven lost planets melting into stars of hellfire, how could a tragedy not bloom?”

sim jaehyun, part of a notorious gangster duo with the one and only infamous lee heeseung, has his life crumbling before him when he gets arrested in busan. meeting you, the "bad cop" and down to earth FBI agent might've been the cure he needed to solve his reoccurring problem—learning how to love again. except there's one major problem; there's a blood thirsty demon involved.

————————

— a/n:

hi omg!! my first written enha fic and it’s jake (ofc). i’ve been so mia on tumblr ++ ik it’s been 2 months since spooky szn but i rly liked this old au i wrote a couple years ago and decided to rewrite it !! i’m not really sure how chapter installments work on here but i’ll figure it out lol

alsoo this fic used to be a taekook one (i know stfu) so that’s why jake and heeseung had a little fling or whatever in the beginning but this is an x reader fic! so it won’t be mentioned often :) and also bisexual jake just feels right so i’m going with it

————————

masterlist:

1. Introduction

2. The Beginning

3. The Follower

4. Interrogation

…. and more to come!

SUNGHOON had never been one to be afraid of the dark.

Of course, the petrifying gazes of dolls frightened him, or the maniac grins of clowns haunted him in his sleep, but he has never once caved into the phobia of darkness.

Its a strange thing, to be able to control your own imagination. But Sunghoon was able to master the impossible.

He has always thought he was special in that way.

At least, that's what he used to think.

Instead of the warm feelings of security he was feeling moments ago, it vanished into a sinister frost.

Cold breaths panted down his neck, kissing his tender skin with ice cold air. Shards of glaze stabbed his torso, beads of sweat oozing out of the wounds. The silence engulfing the room was eerie; the tension in the air pressing on his chest as if preventing him from breathing.

Quiet, it was too quiet.

Sunghoon quickly cocked his head to his right, and he swore he heard whispers crooning into his ears seductively.

What the hell is going on?

"Hey, who the hell turned off the lights?" A loud, but shaky voice demanded. It was coming from the corner of the room, but Sunghoon couldn't make out who said it.

The voice seemed almost...unfamiliar.

"This isn't some fucking joke." The same voice roared, louder and more aggressively this time.

Sunghoon’s head was spinning, arms and legs wobbling like they had no strength left in them. His stomach was bubbling up and he resisted the urge to hunch over and retch.

It may have lasted only a couple seconds, but for him, it felt like hours.

"It wasn't me, I swear Heeseung." To the blonde's relief, a familiar voice answered the former male.

That was Heeseung? It didn't sound like him at all.

"Well it was fucking one of you." Someone else growled, sounding obviously annoyed but stumbled on his words as he spoke.

They were all scared.

"I swear to god, once I get my gun back I'm killing you all." The same person warned.

"Jaehyun, shut the fuck up; you're not making this any better."

Jaehyun? That was definitely not Jaehyun’s voice.

Sunghoon would know, he spent hours watching him talk to himself in his cell.

After that, the eerie silence poured into the room again. Palms sweaty, he dried them on his uniform pants, cringing at his fingers sticking together from the friction. He doesn't remember the last time he had ever sweat that hard before.

"Guys, it's alright." A new voice, one Sunghoon had never heard before, tauntingly chuckled.

Footsteps approached him, the whispers in his ear getting noisier by each thud.

Thump, thump.

A shoulder shoved into his, but it felt like a bar of metal. Sunghoon felt like his bones broke at the small gesture, so minimal but so strong.

Who was this guy?

Sunghoon’s always been the strongest, the bravest, and was always there for other people. So when he clutched his shoulder in pain, he hung his face in shame at how quickly someone else put him in his place.

Thump, thump.

It felt like it was just him, alone, in that room. A blindfold tightened around his eyes and dumped into the river styx. He was drowning, sinking into that sea of darkness, with the sharks of sins surrounding him. There was no light, no hope, no escape.

They were eating away at his limbs, but his bright crimson blood could not be seen in that pool of ebony. No one was there to help him out, no one was ever there.

Sunghoon was all alone in the dark, and this time he was scared.

His chest heaved up and down and he choked on greedy breaths, swallowing them as his head sunk deeper into the water. A monotone sound rung in his ears, and he felt as if he was about to die.

Maybe he was dying, his body and brain too numb to feel anything.

All of a sudden, it went quiet. The gurgling of water from Sunghoon’s throat dispersed, and the vicious sharks vanished. He wasn't in water anymore, and felt the dirt floor underneath his feet. There was no sound, just a ringing in his ears.

The thumping of feet finally ceased.

A gunshot echoed around the room, and just like that, the lights flickered back on.

————————

THE OFFICIAL CAST FOR FLICKER:

SIM JAEHYUN AS HIMSELF

— "Blood is such a ravishingly dark painting"

A Serial Killer duo with Heeseung, who always has time for some rebellious fun. He acts recklessly, without a care in the world for the consequences. However, his life of motorcycles and smoking came to a halting crash when he got arrested by the devil himself.

LEE HEESEUNG AS HIMSELF

— "Monster? I'm just ahead of the curve."

Heeseung has been a special case since he was a child, killing innocent animals and such for entertainment. He had never been taught how to love, or express feelings, so he feels no remorse for any of his actions. Will he wire the rest of the crew into his trap like he did to Jake? If he even have enough time to, that is. After all, karma has her own schedule.

YOU AS Y/N

— "Change is inevitable, not always favored."

Mischievous and stubborn, the two words that were basically created for you. Captains of Police Forces are usually intimidating, but your crew would always tease you for acting tough. What would happen if this normal, childlike coffee lover faced a horrifying inter-dimensional creature?

PARK SUNGHOON AS HIMSELF

— "Class first, class second, safety third."

Not exactly the brightest kid in the department, but is the most strategic when it comes to his job. His only priorities consist of ice-skating and fashion, which can be bad sometimes when you wear Doc Martins to a bloody crime scene. He's dreamed of being a Police Officer ever since he's been out the womb, but he would’ve never expected it to be as dark as this.

PARK JAY AS HIMSELF

— "You little shits better solve this before I start growing grey hair"

The Hard-Headed Deputy Chief of Police Force had quite the temper whenever on the job, and his colleagues would describe him as very straightforward + down-to-earth person. Once he stumbled upon an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, however, his whole life was deemed a lie.

YANG JUNGWON AS HIMSELF

— “God, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

The top dog of the Seoul Police force, who also had a conceited heart of stone. He doesn't believe in the supernatural wishwash, with ghosts and demons & devils; thinks it's all a bunch of baloney. (Maybe that's why he gets along with Jay so well.) How will he feel once he finds out there's one after him?

KIM SUNOO AS HIMSELF

— "Icarus got nothing on me."

A lovesick twenty-one year old, with such a face, the sun itself gets envious. A chill, laid back guy that would always have your back no matter what. His only problem was, he fell in love/trusted people too quickly— which could ultimately lead to his demise. I mean, can anyone even penetrate what was about to unfold?

NISHIMURA RIKI AS HIMSELF

— “Last one to hell is a rotten egg!”

A young and aspiring intern that hopes to one day serve his people faces the harsh reality of what the universe could throw at him. He’s basically the department’s certified little brother, and his wide toothed smile could make just about anyone crumble. Can his bright and enamoring personality save him and his crew though?

————————

"knawing at the essence of reality, save it in my grasp, will you?"

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

[acediian]

─𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 [ℹ.]

Pairing: Stephen Strange x OC, (eventually) Sinister Strange x OC

Synopsis: Alma, a newly appointed S.W.O.R.D. director, finds herself working alongside Stephen Strange to confront an inter-dimensional threat two months after he abruptly ended their long-term relationship and broke her heart. A young girl needing their help forces Alma to confront her lingering feelings for Stephen while they search for answers.  [Loosely follows the plot of DSMOM.]

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: violence, gun use, swearing, unrequited love but also mutual pining, general peril??? Since this fic will eventually feature some smut, I’ll go ahead and say this now: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY

A/N: I saw DSMOM one freakin time and fell so hard for Sinister Strange that I’m writing a multi-part fanfic just to shamelessly ship a self-insert OC with him (and 616 Stephen ofc). I truly hope you enjoy this chapter, even though we haven’t gotten to the best bits yet. I love some good setup in my fics! c:

* Please do not copy or repost my work anywhere else! *

Silence. That was what a corner office with a view of the New York City skyline got you. Well, not dead silence. There was still the soft, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. The distant sounds of car horns on the street. The clacking of fingertips on a keyboard. For most agents, the quiet, meditative atmosphere of a glass office and the accompanying promotion to regional director of S.W.O.R.D. for the Northeast would be a dream come true. It was the culmination of a career spent running memos to research and development, investigating inter-dimensional anomalies, and occasionally responding to the odd extraterrestrial threat. 

A pair of brown eyes glanced up from the computer screen to the bronze plaque hanging on the wall to her left. 

The United States Government recognizes Alma Elizabeth Simmons for her bravery and dedicated service during the Battle of New York on May 4, 2012.

This was the only one she had hung of the numerous other medals and plaques that she had earned in her more than fifteen years as an agent. Boots on the ground was all she had known for so long that the transition to ass in an office chair had been a tough pill to swallow. 

Still, she had to admit… “Director Simmons” did have a nice ring to it.

It was like an answer to her prayers when the sudden blaring of sirens pierced the silence of her office. Alma nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden interruption, but the satisfaction of putting her computer to sleep pushed aside her momentary shock. It took her two quick strides to make it to the glass door and swing it open, letting in the beautiful cacophony of a facility leaping into action. 

“Finch, talk to me,” Alma shouted to her assistant through a rush of agents passing by. “What’s going on?” 

“Inter-dimensional visitor, ma’am,” Finch replied, pressing a datapad into her hands that already displayed what little information they had on the incident. He struggled to keep up with her pace as they followed the others to the atrium. “SoHo. Unknown origin. But it’s, uh… big and it’s angry.”

Alma sighed. “Great. Alright, I’m gonna want Squadron 3 on this. Armored vehicles only. And get me one with a laser turret on top.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

---

Her team was suited up and speeding through the city streets less than five minutes later, their convoy of vehicles weaving in and out of traffic as sirens blared and unsuspecting civilians gawked from the sidewalks. Alma could feel her heart pounding excitedly in her chest. It was her first chance since her promotion to be at the front of the action. No more hiding behind a desk while the agents got to have all the fun. 

“What’s our ETA?” she asked, catching the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror. 

“Two minutes, ma’am. Traffic allowing.”

“Director?” came a voice from behind her.

“Yes, Murphy?”

“Looks like Stephen Strange is already on the scene, ma’am.”

The back of the vehicle filled with an air of excitement. Hushed but enthusiastic whispers passed between the passengers. These were experienced agents, but the chance to watch an Avenger at work was always thrilling. Alma, however, couldn’t share in their delight. It was bound to happen sooner or later - seeing him again - especially given the work that they both did. All the grief and heartbreak that she had spent the last two months trying to process, to suppress, to overcome, consumed her in an instant. It was a ravenous beast and she, its vulnerable prey. 

Perhaps she should have sat this one out, after all. 

“Agents–” Alma finally managed to croak out, breathless, before she summoned her composure. “Agents. When we arrive, I want Team Alpha to begin setting up a perimeter and escorting civilians out of the area. We’re going in weapons hot. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all said in unison.

“Team Bravo, on me. Engage with the intent to neutralize. And watch each other’s–”

The vehicle squealed to a stop just short of the next intersection, narrowly avoiding the enormous, tentacled creature that was lumbering down the street with a city bus in its grips. 

“There’s our bogey! Go!”

Their convoy of armored vehicles sprung into action. Agents poured out of the vans and onto the road as instructed. “Moreno! Rouse! Bring the Cannon and rendezvous with us. You four – with me!” 

For her first incident as director, Alma didn’t think she was doing too badly so far. But the real test of her leadership skills was currently rounding the next street corner. She took off sprinting with the other four agents in tow, dodging abandoned cars and fallen street lamps in pursuit of the creature. A familiar red blur whizzed through the intersection, causing the lump in Alma’s through to grow even larger. The sooner this was over, the better.

As the squad turned onto the next street, they were met with their first full view of the creature in all its many-tentacled splendor. They immediately began firing on the monstrosity, which responded to the sting of their bullets with a high-pitched screech. A mass of tentacles came hurtling toward them, grabbing two of the agents and tossing them aside as if they weighed nothing. Alma prepared herself for the inevitable when something else wrapped around her shoulders and swiftly pulled her out of the creature’s reach. Once she skittered to a stop, she swiveled around to see who had saved her only to see Stephen’s Cloak of Levitation hovering behind her. 

“Oh,” Alma breathed with a smile. “Hey, you.”

The Cloak drew in closer, wrapping a bit of its cloth around her in a sort of hug. 

“Yeah, I’ve missed you, too,” she chuckled. “Thanks for the assist.”

Alma thought the Cloak nodded to her before it flew off, presumably back to its master. The creature, in the meantime, had become distracted by something else, which gave her a window of opportunity to check on the agents who had been thrown. They were fine, if not a little shaken up, and they would definitely have a few bruises later on. But it was her responsibility to make sure that wouldn’t happen to them again. 

Pressing on her earpiece, she barked, “Where is my Cannon?” to the two agents who she had tasked with bringing the weapon.

“Coming up on you now, ma’am,” a breathless voice replied.

S.W.O.R.D.’s R&D department had been cooking up prototype weapons for occasions just like these but hadn’t had many opportunities to test them in the field. Alma saw two outcomes: either the Cannon was going to work and kill the creature or it would explode in her hands and kill her in a blaze of glory. 

The agents promptly arrived with the weapon, a laser cannon that must have weighed more than fifty pounds and had a smooth, silver exterior that pulsed with a pale blue glow. Alma could feel the thing humming with energy beneath her fingertips. With the press of a button, the Cannon whined to life as it began to charge up its laser pulse. The bar on the top blinked rhythmically - one light for every minute it needed to charge. R&D said the process would take three minutes. Hopefully, that would be enough time.

Throwing the Cannon’s strap over her shoulder, Alma resumed her pursuit of the creature with her agents on her heels. “Keep it engaged until I’m ready to fire!” She had to shout over the screams of panicked civilians and the distant sirens that were steadily growing louder. 

The team had to dodge a flying sedan before they could resume shooting at the creature, which hardly seemed interested in them this time. It was after something else. No, someone? There was little time to discern who or what its target was. An Eldritch Whip suddenly wrapped around one of the creature’s tentacles, but it broke free and grabbed the spell’s caster, hurtling him into a van on the opposite curb. 

Alma wanted to run to him but her legs wouldn’t budge. She could only stand there, gawking, as Stephen Strange shook off the blow and rose to his feet. It was merely a coincidence that he looked in her direction. But as soon as their gazes locked, the world around them fell away. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. Not the creature, not the people running past them, not even the ground beneath her feet. All Alma could hear was her hammering pulse and all she could see was him. 

It was clear by the way Stephen’s shoulders dropped that he could discern the hurt on her face. There was a yearning in her eyes, too, that was unmistakable. Finally, he broke eye contact with her to look down. He was thinking. He always drummed his fingers against his leg like that when he was thinking. But the second he looked up again, one of the creature’s tentacles wrapped around him and squeezed. Neither one had seen it coming, lost as they were in the sight of one another.

“No!” Alma bellowed as the creature lifted Stephen into the air. He struggled, but his arms were pinned to his sides. No spells. No way to save himself.

The third light on the Cannon was blinking, now. Less than a minute until it was ready to fire. 

“Ugh, come on, fucking thing!” Alma gritted through her teeth, giving the weapon a little shake as though that would help it finish its charge more quickly. Surely it was a coincidence that the light stopped blinking just then and the end of the weapon’s barrel lit up with a sickeningly bright glow. Her brow lifted in surprise. “Huh. Okay, then.” 

Alma struggled to brace the Cannon against her hip so she could aim the barrel at the creature, which still had a tight grip on Stephen and didn’t seem inclined to let him go. It was trying to escape the barrage of gunfire by clambering up a skyscraper, sending boulder-sized pieces of limestone tumbling to the earth. 

Why did they always have to climb the buildings like the city was some kind of playground?

The Cannon beeped as Alma followed the creature up the building’s facade, signaling that it had the thing squarely in its crosshairs. She hesitated for only a second and hoped against all hope that the weapon wouldn’t backfire before pulling the trigger. To her relief, a glorious beam of light left the Cannon’s barrel with a roar, illuminating everything in a fifty-foot radius as it came into contact with the creature’s flesh. 

The being had only a second to let out an ear-shattering screech. The beam’s energy quickly traveled through its body, searing every vein, muscle, and limb. In an instant, the creature disintegrated into ash. Stephen, finally released from its clutches, let out a yell as he began his eight-story fall. Not a moment later, the Cloak of Levitation seamlessly caught him in mid-air and gently lowered him back to the road before disappearing into the sky once again.

The momentary confidence and satisfaction that came from defeating the creature evaporated as Stephen jogged over to Alma. An awkward pause followed while the two struggled to find what to say to one another. Stephen opened and closed his mouth several times, even drew in a quick breath before stopping himself. Clearing his throat, he gestured emphatically at the Cannon that Alma was gripping so tightly that the tips of her fingers had turned white. 

“That’s a… fun weapon you’ve got there,” Stephen finally managed.

Alma could only raise her eyebrows in response. His first words to her in two months and those were the ones he chose? Well, since he wanted to be quippy with her, the least she could do was respond in kind.

“Oh, you like it? It’s a prototype.” She slapped its metallic exterior. “You can… kill so many giant tentacled freaks with this bad boy.”

Alma winced at her bungled attempt at humor. He was so much better at it than her. It was one of her favorite things about him - the way he had always been able to make her laugh.

“You agents and your toys,” Stephen remarked with a lopsided grin. 

They stood there silently for another moment, Alma shuffling her feet and Stephen fiddling with his hands. But he finally beat her to the punch, speaking just as her lips parted to say something herself. 

“Your hair is different.” Stephen mimicked the shape of her short, black bob with his hands. “It looks nice.” 

“Thanks.” A smile passed fleetingly across her lips before her expression turned serious. “Are you okay, Stephen?” 

Stephen nodded, flashing a smile so warm that Alma knew she must have turned pink. “I’m okay.”

Someone cleared their voice behind her. “Director Simmons?”

Stephen raised his eyebrows, shocked, impressed, and proud all in equal measure. “Director.”

Alma ignored him and turned to her agent. “Yes, Moreno?”

“Emergency services are on scene, ma’am. Some civilians wounded, no casualties.”

“And one hell of a lot of property damage,” she commented, finally taking a second to look around at the trail of destruction that the creature had left in its wake. “Can’t wait for the paperwork on this one.” She sighed. “Thanks, Moreno. Can you bring this back to the truck and coordinate with first responders while I debrief with,” her eyes flitted to Stephen for less than a second, “Doctor Strange?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Moreno said, taking the Cannon with him as he left the two of them alone again. 

“Debrief, huh?” Stephen teased. “Is that what you’re calling it?” But this wasn’t exactly an excuse she had cooked up to talk to him more, even if it was what the little voice in the back of her head was begging for her to do.

Alma played it cool, brushing off his question with a sincere: “Well, we just had a visit from a cyclops cthulhu monster from another dimension, Stephen. It’s kind of my job to interview the parties involved about what the hell just happened.”

“Speaking of parties involved…” he began, his head turning to where the Cloak of Levitation had returned carrying a young girl like it was a magic carpet.

The girl started turning on her heel to run when she caught sight of Alma and an excited look of recognition lit up her face. Instead, she came barreling into Alma and threw her arms around her in a tight embrace.

“Alma, holy crap! You killed it! You saved me!”

Alma exchanged a confused look with Stephen, who shrugged and shook his head to say that he didn’t know this kid either. 

“You’re… welcome,” Alma stammered. “Sorry, do we know each other?” 

“Oh, well–” The girl sheepishly withdrew from their hug. “Yeah. And no. Kind of.”

A million questions bounced around Alma’s head, so she settled on the most basic one to start. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, I was gonna ask that same question,” Stephen chimed in. “More importantly, what did that creature want with you, kid?”

“And where are your parents?” Alma’s brow furrowed in concern. “Do you need us to call them for you?” 

The girl’s head whipped from Alma to Stephen and back again amid their barrage of questions.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, okay?” Alma assured her. “We’re just trying to understand what’s going on.”

“Look, giant teen-eating monsters aside, I have something important that’s bothering me.” Stephen took a step closer to the kid. “Why were you in my dream last night?”

The girl shook her head. “That wasn’t a dream. It was another part of the Multiverse.”

Alma and Stephen exchanged a look. S.W.O.R.D. had spent a little time researching other dimensions - other universes - but their knowledge about the Multiverse was still sorely lacking. Some of her colleagues didn’t even believe that such a thing could really exist. The chance to interview this girl could prove invaluable to their work and to mitigating future threats. 

“Do you guys have pizza in this universe?” the girl suddenly asked.

What a way to change the subject, Alma thought. Leave it to a kid to ask for pizza right after evading death by octopus monster. 

“Yeah, we have pizza.”

---

The girl sat across the table from Alma and Stephen, devouring slice after slice of pizza as though her meal was being timed. Alma’s fingers absent-mindedly drummed against the screen of her datapad as she sat watching the kid with a curious gaze. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen, maybe sixteen. She was shrouded in mystery, and yet no one in the restaurant would have suspected that she was any different than your average teenager just by looking at her.

“Slow down, kid. You’re gonna get a stomach ache.” Stephen spoke with a level of care in his voice that Alma found sweet.

“She said she was hungry, Stephen.”

“Yeah,” the girl agreed with Alma between bites. “And besides, I’m from another universe. You don’t know if my stomach even works the same as yours.”

“I don’t even know if you’re really from another universe like you keep saying you are.” Stephen tilted his head. “I’m still waiting to be enlightened.”

“Is your Stephen always this grumpy?” the kid turned her attention to Alma, who chuckled in response.

“He has his moments.”

The girl’s eyebrows raised. “Guess this is one of them.”

“Alright,” Stephen interrupted their conversation, causing the two ladies to exchange a little grin. “You know, I left a very nice wedding to save a smart-ass kid from being eaten by an octopus. Now, tell me–”

Alma’s head snapped to him. Christine’s wedding. They had planned on going together, initially. “Oh, you ended up going?”

“Did you guys get married?!” the girl interjected excitedly. 

“No. We’re not married,” Alma replied.

“No, we didn’t,” Stephen said in unison with her. “And yes, I did go.”

“Wait, you’re not married?” The girl sounded stunned, confused even. “You were married in every other universe I’ve been to.” 

An uncomfortable look passed between Stephen and Alma that the kid definitely noticed. 

“No, we’re–” Stephen cleared his throat. “–not together any more.”

The girl dropped the slice of pizza she was working on in shock. “What?” 

Stephen’s words cut through Alma’s heart, reopening the wounds she’d spent the last two months trying to heal. She’d made it through, mostly by pouring herself into her work. It was probably what had earned her the promotion to director. Things in her life were starting to feel normal again after so much change, so this verbal reminder of what once was and what could have been… oh, it hurt to hear.

“But–” the girl continued, her disappointment clear. “You’re always together. You’re, like… soulmates.” 

“Tell that to Stephen,” Alma said under her breath, low enough that she didn’t think either of them heard. But the way he turned to look at her told her otherwise. Instead of meeting his gaze, she focused her attention on her datapad.

“Sorry.” The kid looked a bit guilty for stirring up sore feelings between them. “So, uh… you wanted me to explain what’s going on.”

“Yes.” Stephen leaned closer, resting his forearms on the table. “Why was that thing trying to eat you?

“It wasn’t trying to eat me; it was trying to kidnap me and take me to this… demon who wanted to steal my power.” 

“Power. What power?”

The kid took a deep breath. “I can travel the Multiverse.”

“What?” Stephen blurted out.

Alma, who had been typing on her datapad, finally looked up. Her eyes reflected an equal amount of awe and concern. “How?”

“I don’t know. I can’t control it. It only happens when I’m really, really afraid. The last universe I was in–” She looked at Stephen “–the other you was trying to help me. But the demon caught up with us.” 

A sudden realization flashed across his features. “The fight from my dream.”

“I already told you,” the girl urged. “That wasn’t a dream. I can prove it…!”

Stephen suddenly rose to his feet, sending his chair scraping backwards across the tile floor. “Alright, pizza time’s over.”

“Wh– Stephen, I’m not done here.” Alma gestured to her datapad in annoyance. 

Stephen leaned down to whisper to her, coming close enough that she could feel his breath on her temple. The sensation sent a chill down her spine. “I have to take her to Kamar-Taj. Wong has to know about this. If this ‘demon’ is after her, it won’t stop just because we killed its minion.” 

When Alma tilted her head toward him, she briefly lost herself in his startlingly blue eyes. Blinking, she considered his idea. “You think he’ll have answers?” 

“Maybe. I hope so. If not, then I guess I’ll have to see who else might know what to do.”

“Such as?”

“Wanda Maximoff?”

Alma set her datapad down and turned fully to face him. “Stephen, no. Do you know what she did in Westview? 

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “mass kidnapping by way of sitcoms.”

“I was there.” She needed him to know how serious she was. “I saw it all. I don’t think that she can be trusted.”

“Alma. I have to try. Or the entire Multiverse could be at risk.”

"Damnit.” He was right. Rolling her eyes, she relented with a heavy sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t I always?” He lingered for a moment before standing upright again and swooshing around the table. “Alright, kid. Come on.”

“Wait–” Alma stood up as the girl began to follow Stephen, meeting the two of them near the door. “I don’t think we ever caught your name.”

“Oh… right.” The girl must have forgotten that they didn’t already know her like the other versions of them supposedly did. “I’m America. America Chavez.”

Alma smiled warmly. “America. It’s nice to meet you. Go with Stephen, now. He and the other sorcerers will keep you safe.”

“I hope so.” There was an air of doubt in America’s voice.

Before Stephen could reach for the door handle, Alma grabbed his forearm to stop him. When he looked down, she withdrew her hand as quickly as she would have if she had touched an open flame. 

“Anything else you learn from her - anything at all - you better keep me in the loop,” she said softly, but firmly.

“Aye aye, madame director.” Stephen winked. 

“I mean it.” Alma sighed and slipped one of her freshly-printed business cards into his hand. “Call my office.”

He took one look at the card and tried to hand it back to her. “I already have your number.” 

“Stephen.” 

Please don’t call my cell, her heart cried. She couldn’t bear to see the little red hearts next to his name on the call screen.

“Alright,” he breathed as he slipped the card into his pocket for safe keeping. “I’ll be in touch.” He nodded to America, who gave Alma another quick hug.

“Sorry, force of habit,” she chuckled before following Stephen out of the restaurant.

Alma sighed as though she had been holding her breath for the last hour and slumped into one of the chairs at their table. Her hand reached for the last slice of pizza. She’d earned it. 

[amagicdoctor]

it's unlikely margali will come back for nightcrawlers, she kinda dead in that timeline but she will be back in sons of x. i wish we'd skip the sos event cuz it's a load of "instead of doing anything productive, the mcs spent x number of years on pause, until the plot started again". like after escaping krakoa, storm was put on hold for 10 years, following a literal "do nothing" directive. in the end nothing actually matters in that event??? they're gonna restart the timeline before it went down

Yep yep, literally reading through SoS series again right now and that's the issue I'm having with the entire collection. Thing is, they did the same exact thing when the Krakoa arc first started (with House of X etc) and this seems to be the best way, to the writers, to tackle a large plot in such a small timeframe. Which is really dumb because we have to keep guessing and guessing all the stuff they throw at us when it's been 5000 years since the last thing we read. Storm is a woman of action, she seemed so prepped and ready to go it makes me fume thinking she would sit for 10 years waiting for her friends and family to fix themselves. There's literally a guy on earth playing dollhouse with your people. That's pretty messed up to put her on pause.

And it is overall unsettling to read this series and then go back to our normal timeline with any other Marvel comic that's running right now. Like to me I feel hopeless because I know a few years from now the SoS thing will hurt all these people no matter what. For example, it's so toxic, mentally, for me, seeing Dr. Strange come back to life, bring happy with Clea, being a married man again knowing some bs is about to break that apart so soon.

And then there's the issue with the whole event getting reset, cause ofc it will 😅. Once SoS is done there's the Fall of X event which is again, going to effect the entire Marvel universe. Like got dam 🤣

I don't know what to think about Margali potentially being dead. I would hope not. I like to think sorcerers got the hell on when Sinister started taking over, especially if they're not selfless heroes. I like to think Margali did what Dr. Doom is probably doing and is just going undercover 😅. She won't intervene unless her own life is threatened but I'm sure she's watching and waiting somewhere around earth...

[littlefreya]

Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae​ and @wondersofdreaming​ who held my hand. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows. 

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine. 

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked. 

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.  

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’ 

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death. 

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil. 

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street. 

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies. 

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever. 

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry? 

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.  

“You seem distressed.” 

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom. 

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant. 

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man. 

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms. 

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh. 

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight. 

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon. 

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin. 

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex. 

It seemed enormous... 

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons. 

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face. 

“I can take you wherever you need to go.” 

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size. 

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her. 

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond. 

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril. 

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache. 

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her. 

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs. 

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’ 

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears. 

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away. 

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.  

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’ 

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him. 

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks. 

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union. 

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck. 

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue. 

It was almost as if he worshipped her. 

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears. 

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity.  It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres. 

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage. 

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body. 

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy. 

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. 

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them. 

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape. 

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns. 

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.  

“Do you like it, bride?” 

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea. 

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest. 

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away. 

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched. 

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him. 

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not. 

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground. 

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury. 

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered. 

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once. 

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp. 

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize. 

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones. 

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.” 

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.  

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her. 

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself. 

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered. 

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell. 

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.” 

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward. 

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure. 

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon. 

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.    

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.  

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage. 

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease. 

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out. 

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed. 

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock. 

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation. 

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.   

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.    

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove. 

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood. 

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil. 

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!” 

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours. 

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria. 

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax. 

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall. 

This was no longer a hallucination. 

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.  

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.  

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly. 

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for. 

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.  

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will. 

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth. 

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth. 

“I wish for…” 

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics​

[awesomerextyphoon]

Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420​ for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @chrissquares​ , and @amythedvdhoarder​’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge.  Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie​ for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil​ for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

 Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

  The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

  The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

  Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

  “Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

  You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

  The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

  “The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

[altagraye]

The Bid part 1 (ABO)

The Bid (A/B/O):

Ari Levinson (Alpha) x Eurydice Sideris (Omega, OFC)

TW!: dark themes, human trafficking, sexual themes, eventual smut, religious themes (Jewish), pagan themes, implied elements of torture, 1980s (or my best attempt), drugs, mafia themes, elements of past torture, religious persecution, strangers to lovers, Satanic panic, cussing, abo dynamics.

Summary:

After accomplishing the impossible, Ari Levinson left the promised land and went to the land of the free. He settled in Boston. He went to a football game on the good graces of the mayor of Boston (Charles Blackwood) , and discovered sinister happenings that seemed much too familiar to him. 

Characters:

Ari Levinson (Portrayed by Chris Evans, as seen in the film Red Sea Diving Resort)

Eurydice Sideris (Portrayed by Emmy Rossum, as seen in various titles but mostly the TV series Shameless)

Charles Blackwood (Portrayed by Sebastian Stan)

Esperanza Domingo (Portrayed by Michelle Rodriguez)

Author’s note: sorry this one is short. I know it is different. And I don't intend to offend anyone! I hope this is interesting enough for my readers. Message me if you are confused about anything. I apologize in advance for accuracy errors.

The Bid

Part 1: The Pure One

1982, Boston, Massachusetts:

Eurydice Sideris:

They dolled me up, made sure they covered up the bruises, put me in a skimpy dress and drugged me. They made sure to accentuate my scent too. How? Well that was a mystery, but I’m far from home. I could barely remember what or where home was but I remember the sea. The melodies that the waves made as they crashed onto the shore. During all of this chaos, I held onto the sea, and the one born from the ocean foam. That Aphrodite herself had kept me hanging on, kept me safe, at least safer than the others. 

My feet were unsteady in these high heels. They dragged me up when I stumbled and hit me more, only in places that weren’t visible. Out of my entire faith, the soulmates legend is the one thing I didn't believe in. At least until I was face to face with an Alpha, the one I was staring at now. He looked like he lived life on the edge. He didn’t belong there, at least not next to the other Alpha who looked like they were acquaintances. 

He was striking and even more so his scent. When the aroma flew through my lungs, it felt like freedom. What a strange thing to feel. Freedom had been taken from me for so long and now it was gawking at me, drinking me in with hungry blue eyes. It was then that I realized Aphrodite had answered my prayers. She was somewhere there in this Alpha’s eyes. That unmistakable color of the sea and the voracious and primal yearning. 

All this time, just when I began to lose faith, to crumble. This tiny silent moment had tears dampening your eyes. I knew and he knew at that moment the two had found the other half. The millennia of wandering the Earth generation after generation, searching for my half was finally complete. How cruel though to be dragged through the mud to get to you, my Alpha. 

“Starting price is 10.” yelled out one man. Ten dollars!? What am I? Chopped liver? I didn’t spend five years in the shithole to get sold for 2 Abraham Lincoln's.  The Alpha turned to his friend, confused. I caught more of his scent just then. Noticing how his aroma deepened, taking note of the dry wine. His nicely dressed friend chuckled at whatever conversation they were having. Your Alphas eyes widened and he chewed on the inside of his cheek, contemplating. The price must have been much higher than I initially thought.

“30!” yelled a man from the back. The gavel rose slightly, waiting for its sentence. Once its sharp cry would ring out, I’d be officially sold. Please, please, Aphrodite! Let me be with my true love. 

“50!” said another Alpha. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch. 

“100!” said a closer voice.

“200!” said the last voice, desperation seeping from his lips.

 “200, that’s 200. Anyone else for a higher wage? 200. Going once. 200. Going twice, that’s 200 folks! Sold! To the Alpha standing in the middle row.” The auctioneer announced. My lips trembled with fear.  The gavel struck, its sharp sound ringing in your ear. One tear fell, ruining the make up they had hastily thrown on. 

I opened my eyes slowly to see him. The one meant for you. The soul Zeus himself had separated my own from all those years ago. He was panting, like he was unsure the outcome had really happened. It happened so fast like instinct had taken over. 

A different Alpha took my arm, gripping it tight, being sure to dig his nails into my tender flesh. The man set me down in the seat next to the stranger who’d just bought me. The stranger took notice of this and gave him a look and a growl that could have killed. He paid no more attention to the worthless piece of shit than was necessary. 

He unbuttoned his denim shirt and took it off, draping it over my shoulders, filled with goosebumps. He was wearing another shirt under it, he wasn’t naked, but just from the look of him, I wanted to invest in that endeavor. 

“I’m Ari. You’re safe now, Omega.” he whispered in my ear as he clothed me. His breath was warm and melted the cold air stinging my skin. He held out his hand, resting it on the arm of the seat. I took it, feeling its strong muscles underneath and the calloused skin on its surface. I almost forgot to breathe. Leaning in, locks of my long brunette hair falling into my face.

“It’s Eurydice. Unless you’d like me to call you Alpha instead of Ari.”  I had to test the waters, throw in a curve ball of my own. Something to let him know I meant business. My own name was so foreign falling off my rose tinted lips. Those fuckers made me forget who I was. Given me a number instead, stamped it high on my neck. It was another form of humiliation. A tactic to degrade me to dehumanize me. If anyone would claim me, they’d see the mark. Number 394. They covered it up of course. Can’t have imperfections on Selling Night during halftime at the football game. It was an odd place to be sold in the first place but for the mob it was perfect. It was all done in the VIP rooms, where it was less conspicuous and ‘Megas like me could be bought at a pretty penny. It happened once every three months. 

Most Omegas didn’t make it this far in five years. Some of them died after three. I honestly don’t know how I got to this point, but I felt something close to happiness at that moment. 

He smirked. “Eurydice is a beautiful name.” His voice was sweet molasses to my ears. At first I didn't feel comfortable resting my head on his shoulder. But with the high from whatever drug they gave me wearing off, I didn’t care about much else other than sleep.

I hesitantly set my head down. His shoulder is firm with muscle yet so comforting, so right. Ari gripped my hand back, his thumb nonchalantly stroking my skin. I sighed, content and whiplashed from the events of today. I’ve been on edge for the past five years. I never knew I needed this kind of sleep. One where I didn't have to worry about a rut-crazed Alpha having their way with me in the middle of the night. This was the first day of the rest of my life. As with the Phoenix, I felt like I'd risen from ashes.

End part 1.- part 2 to be written soon.

Taglist:

@imaginedreamwrite​

@starshipsofstarlord​

[1-800-hellraiser]

Hey lad can you make a Yandere David Headcanons you know from Camp Camp?

Ofc! I put this into a oneshot bc I feel bad for not givving y'all enough content recently:")

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Requested by: Sam Clumsy (On Tumblr)

Image Credit: Mommy 🐇 on Pinterest 

Words: 1,131

Aged up: Nope

Song: Saccharine - Jazmin Bean

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Yan!David x Reader

!TWS!: Yandere/obsessive behavior, mentions of murder, gore, and swearing

(A/n: I'm so sorry this is so late y'all. Not only am I busy with school, but I got sick and now I'm behind :") But its okay! I'm getting better, and I hope updates will be more frequent :))

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"Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you. I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute."

      You've been seeing David for how long now? Four months? You and David met at a bar, the poor guy was sobbing with a shirley temple in one hand, and a crumbled picture of a woman and him in the other. You assumed this to be his ex. You sat down next to him, asking him if you could buy him a drink. You've been in the same position before, so you could empathize with him. He nodded his head and you bought him a light alcoholic drink, because just by looking at him, you know he's very lightweight. 

       And that brings you to today, driving over to his house. You wanted to inquire about your best friend, Fraser, suddenly going missing after he sent you some...worrying messages. For example "David is fucking insane" and "I'm pretty sure he knows we talk, and he doesn't like us talking. I know what he's going to do." You did get some weird vibes off of him when you two hung out more and more. He seemed very obsessive and controlling, like he didn't want you talking to anyone except him. And only him.

     Although you brushed off this strange behavior, maybe he was clinging onto someone he just met because the love of his life just dumped him? You don't know, but that's how you rationalize it. You pull into the driveway of a white house with burgundy shutters, David's house. You get out of your car and hesitantly knock on the door. You stand and wait for a couple minutes then knock again. This time, when you knocked, the door opened ajar. You peek into the house through the crack in the door and see bloody footprints going down the hall. You gasp silently and rush into the house, not even bothering to take your shoes off. 

       Following the trail of footprints, you find yourself standing in front of the bathroom. You can hear soft humming coming from inside. You open the door to reveal a blood-soaked David, washing his hands of the crimson liquid in the now lightly dyed porcelain sink. "Oh Y/n! It's pleasant of you to stop by~" he purrs with a sinister tone. Your eyes go wide and you hand instinctively covers your mouth as you back away. "D-david, what the fuck did you do?" You manage to say, still shocked and now terrified. "Oh, I took care of some...business." he chuckles darkly, giving you a ominously lusty look. You gulp, trying to force out more words. "What does that mean?" You say, finally getting over your initial shock and now into full blown fear. 

      "Lets just say...Fraser won't be bothering you anymore, love~" he laughs maniacally. You cover your mouth with your hand and step backwards as David steps closer. You become nauseous at the smell of human rot and blood that David wears instead of his usual pine and campfire smoke. You resist the urge to scream when he cups your face with his bloody hand, knowing it will only make things worse for you. "Oh darling, you can scream if you want to." David says, as he leans in really close to your hear. "I love it when you scream~" he purrs into your hear, you manage to swallow the lump in your throat and try to shove him off of you.

      No matter how hard you shove, David doesn't budge. You use your last resort effort and manage to pull out your pocket knife and cut his cheek. He drops his lustful look for a more guilty and shocked one. He puts his hand to the cut and winces when his hand makes contact with it. "Honey, why would you do that..?" He whispers, looking like a kicked puppy. "You fucking killed Fraser David! Then you started coming at me, I got scared!" Your voice cracked as you yelled.

      Tears form in your eyes, David immediately feels regret and guilt. "I'm sorry sweetheart..." he says, holding you in a gentle embrace. You shoved him away. "Get away from me you freak!" You yell as you sprint to the front door. David gets up and yells for you to wait and stop. You don't listen, when your hand graces the door handle, something hits the back of your head really hard. Your vision goes dark as you pass out. David sighs, he really didn't want to have to do this. But you gave him no choice. 

      David hoists your unconscious body over his shoulder and carries you downstairs to his basement. His basement is rank, and smells of mothballs. His basement is full of random things and junk. David moves a tall cardboard box out of the way to reveal a rusty door. He opens the door to a long, dimly lit hallway with another door at the end. He walks up to the other door and opens it. It leads to another room that smell less rank.  The room has a medieval dungeon type theme. A black chandelier hangs from the ceiling, handcuffs and chains hang from the walls.

      A pole sits in the middle of the room along with an oddly comfortable looking chair. A black chest sits at the back if the room. Its filled with rope and other...items. He starts to hum a campfire song as he works. He sits your body up on the chair and goes to the aforementioned chest and pulls out some red rope. He ties up your body snugly to the pole. After he's done, he admires his work. After that, David shuts the door and locks it. Then he shuts the other door and locks it. He puts everything back into place and goes upstairs to finish cleaning up his mess. 

       A couple hours later, you wake up and immediately start screaming for help. A couple minutes later, David bursts into the room. "What happened dear?!" He says frantically . "DAVID YOU FUCKING WHORE WHY AM I HERE?!" You scream at him, he chuckles nonchalantly. "What do you mean darling? You're right where you're meant to be~" David says, that chuckle turning into maniacal laughter. You then realized that you're probably never going to escape him.  

[deathonyourtongue]

Willow Run | Ch. 7

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 3K Warnings: Drug use? A/N: Y’ALL ARE THE BEST!!!! CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | 

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“I’m a nice guy, right? I mean I got a place, roof don’t leak none, got food...Hell, I gave it to her good, too. She always moaned like a whore when I gave it to her. She loved it, especially the rough stuff.”

“I mean, you did say you were gon’ kill her.” Wade giggled, inhaling deeply from a bong and momentarily taking his eyes off Travis. His shaggy blond hair was in need of a wash, but from the state of his shirt, it was clear cleanliness wasn’t at the forefront of any of his thoughts. 

Tapping on a dying lightbulb that sat next to his recliner, Travis grinned. He took a long drag off his cigarette, swilled it with lukewarm beer, and finally nodded. “Well, that’s ‘cause she disobeyed. She doesn’t have a lot to remember, really. Keep the house clean, keep the food hot, keep her legs spread, keep takin’ ‘er pills. Four things. That’s all she needs to remember, but that seems too hard for ‘er. You tell me Wade. If someone finds it too hard to remember four things, should they really be breathin’?”

“No sir,” Wade laughed, grabbing a handful of pretzels and putting the whole lot in his mouth at once while shaking his head. 

“Exactly. And seein’ as how she’s mine, it’s my right to do with ‘er as I please.” 

“Can’t argue with that one, boss.”

Standing, Travis made his way to the kitchen, pausing in front of a mirror his fiancee had broken with her face some time ago. Slipped into the frame was a picture, taken years before on a Polaroid. He stroked over the image with his thumb, smiling. Travis could remember the day like it was yesterday. She’d tried to surprise him by bleaching her hair a white-blond with pink streaks. He took a deep breath,trying to keep from getting hard as he remembered how rough he’d given it to her that night after the party at the drag strip. In his experience, blondes were always bimbos, good for one thing and one thing only. He treated her like a blonde that night, then made her dye it back to its original color the next day; it didn’t matter to him that she had a hard time moving her hands up to her head, so long as she got the job done. 

His reflection, disfigured among the cracks of glass, made him look more sinister than usual and it suited Travis’ mood. His grin grew as he met his own gaze; tri-colored eyes reminiscent of a broken marble stared back, amplifying the decision he’d already made. Running a hand through his mussed russet hair, he looked over his shoulder at his best friend before opening the fridge and grabbing a fresh beer.

“Wade? What d’you do when a deer runs away from ya out into the bush?”

“Y’hunt it. Why?”

“Well, my dear ran away, Wade. Get your stuff and call the guys. We’re gonna go huntin’.” 

Sasha couldn’t help but smile as she read over the second note Sy had left her in as many days. To him, it was probably nothing more than common decency, but to Sasha it was such a tender gesture of affection that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. 

Feeling better than she had in a long time, she slipped out of bed, leaving the puppies to sleep and moved to get ready for the day, intending on finally surprising Sy with the breakfast she’d planned on making the day before. After a quick stop in the bathroom to tie her hair up in a floppy bun, Sasha put on a touch of the makeup she’d bought, slipped into the second outfit she’d tried on, and with new shoes in hand, headed downstairs to start cooking. 

Though she hadn’t cooked from scratch a lot in her past, Sasha had always felt it important that a person have one or two recipes that they could make to near-perfection. Her favorite by far was her breakfast burritos and she’d yet to have someone fail to compliment her on them after trying them.

After a quick rummage through Sy’s fridge, she set about making two for him and one for herself, Sasha watching the clock closely, knowing full well she had a limited time frame to get the food to him before his meeting with the buyer. Where Sy sang, Sasha preferred to dance in the kitchen as she cooked, every movement accompanied by a happy little shuffle of her feet, whether or not there was music playing. 

Before, she’d have to watch herself, as dancing was looked down on, but now, feeling freer than ever before, she couldn’t  help but make her movements a little more grandiose. To anyone looking in, she might have looked a little strange, dancing and smiling from ear to ear when there was no music playing, but Sasha couldn’t have cared less. She was happy for the first time in a long time and she wasn’t going to hide it.

With the kitchen cleaned and the dogs all given a bit of bacon for their good behavior, Sasha set off with everything she’d made, the food wrapped in tin foil then gathered in a clean kitchen towel for easier carrying. Along with the thermos of hot coffee and a bottle of water in place of her OJ, Sasha headed off by foot to find Sy, not ready to try her hand at the ATV that sat parked at the back of the house. 

Her smile grew as she neared the barn, hearing an upbeat country tune playing through speakers she could only assume were hardwired into the building itself. Seeing Wyatt, Sasha put a finger to her lips, silently asking him to stay quiet. The taller man only smiled, shifting his gaze back to a horse he was grooming while discreetly tilting his head to the left, giving away Sy’s location. 

She was expecting him to look as he always had when working in the heat; sweaty, a little disheveled, and wearing his beat up baseball cap. What met her eyes however was something closer to the cover of a romance novel, and Sasha was momentarily stunned into stillness. 

Wearing a navy and black plaid button-down, tight blue jeans with a black belt, and a far less trodden pair of black, round-toed boots, it was the black Stetson on Sy’s head that made her stomach explode into a million butterflies. Biting her lip, Sasha felt a stirring she couldn’t remember ever feeling for her ex, the realization a startling one that nearly made her drop the thermos. 

It took a deep breath to refocus her mind, but once she had, Sasha tiptoed as close to Sy as she dared. With a quick look to Wyatt, who gave her wholehearted approval, Sasha leaned up as far as she could, standing on her tiptoes to try and reach his ear. 

“Morning, handsome,” she whispered, echoing his morning note. 

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sy jumped a mile, turning and banging his elbow into the stall as he tried to figure out what was going on. Seeing Sasha, his fear instantly turned to elation, and he placed a hand over his heart as he took her in. Even more radiant than she had been the previous morning, Sy could tell she felt a million times better, not just physically, but emotionally. The gleam in her eye said it all, and before he could even register it, Sy was grinning like a fool. 

“Morning, mama,” he said with fondness, his voice quiet and sweet as he tipped his hat back enough to kiss her cheek. 

Though Sasha was momentarily confused at the formality of the kiss, it only took one look at Wyatt’s raised eyebrows for her to realize why Sy was being a little coy with the PDA. Everything was still new. Blushing a little, she pulled her surprise from behind her back, smiling hopefully up at Syverson.

“I thought I’d make your morning a little easier,” Sasha said, her smile growing as Sy slipped a hand around her waist, guiding her down the aisle towards his office.

Sy’s face showed genuine appreciation as he took a seat in his high back leather chair, pulling Sasha down into his lap so she wouldn’t have to sit on the perpetually hay dust-covered chair. 

“You didn’t need to do all this, darlin’. You made coffee and everything. Thank you.” Sy met her eyes, his own gaze making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t used to being treated. Turning her face with his hand, he kissed her deeply now that they were in private, Sy sighing happily when he finally pulled away. 

“Been thinkin’ about kissin’ you all morning,” he confessed, Sasha unable to keep the small squeak of happiness from escaping, her head falling to Sy’s broad shoulder as he reached around her to unwrap the kitchen towel. 

With the tinfoil off in a hurry, Syverson’s face turned into one of delight as he immediately recognized what she’d made. 

“Did you use the chorizo?” He asked, bouncing a little in his seat when Sasha nodded. Laughing softly, Sasha held off on taking her first bite in lieu of watching Sy. While his food always tasted amazing, he usually didn’t have much of a reaction to his own cooking. Now, with someone else’s handiwork in front of him, it was a totally different story. 

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head the moment the first bite touched his tongue, a loud, appreciative moan coming next as he began to chew, followed by more bouncing and a bob of his head that was unmistakably made in time with the music. 

“Damn, woman! You could make some serious coin off these! It’s so good! I think you’ve ruined me. Never, ever tell her I said this, but... Even my mom’s isn’t this tasty! Holy shit!” 

Blushing profusely, Sasha hid her face deeper into the crook of Sy’s neck, her smile wide as she felt his free hand come up to cup the back of her head. Warm and safe, she almost forgot about her own meal until the baby moved and her stomach growled simultaneously, both Sasha and Sy laughing and the loud interference. 

“Might wanna eat quick, mama. The lil’ one’s gettin’ restless,” Sy grinned, his hand slipping under her overalls to rub her belly gently over her shirt. The touch made her heart skip a beat, Sasha still amazed that Sy seemed to have no qualms over the fact that she was pregnant, even now that they’d declared their interest in one another as more than just friends. 

Unwrapping her burrito, she took a hearty bite, Sasha glad that her appetite was coming back a little stronger now that she was well away from her previous situation. Still watching Sy, she felt her blush returning as his excitement over the food didn’t waver a bit. It was so opposite of what she was used to, Sasha didn’t quite know what to do with herself. 

“Seriously, Sash, I could have these as my last meal and I’d die a happy man.” Giving her a squeeze, he looked up at her and something in his eyes changed. 

“Darlin’, you’ve got a little somethin’...” Sy’s voice softened as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Sasha’s lips and knocking her heart into overdrive immediately, with how charming he was. 

“Stop,” she whined playfully once they parted, her broad smile making it clear she didn’t actually want him to do anything of the sort. “You’re too cute for your own good, mister,” Sasha added, pressing the button of his nose, her own scrunched up playfully. 

“Nuh uh. That’s all you, mama. I’m just the big ‘ol rust bucket that works with horses,” he joked, Sy about to lean in to kiss her again when Wyatt’s soft throat-clearing interrupted them. 

“We got about five minutes. He’s all ready to go, trottin’ around the pasture so he’s seen as they drive up. You need my help with anythin’ else or am I good to get back to the trees?” Wyatt asked, trying his hardest not to let his face show how surprised and happy he was for his best friend. 

It had been eons since Sy had shown any interest in a woman, and despite only having met her briefly, Wyatt could already see how much of a difference Sasha was making in his former C.O., a difference for the better as far as Wyatt was concerned. 

“Nope, I’m all good to go. D’you mind if I share this with Wyatt, darlin’? He hasn't’ eaten yet either and he’s about to go out and break his back.” Looking down at Sy as he asked for permission, Sasha only let the shock of his request flash briefly across her face before nodding quickly. Men never asked her for permission; they usually just took and took and took. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Sasha found herself slowly getting off Sy’s lap, mouth parted slightly. 

Was it too good to be true? Would he end up being like every other man she’d ever been with? Was this all a dream that would leave her sobbing when she woke?

Managing to keep the smile on her face, she bent down and gave Sy a sweet kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger just a little longer than was customary. 

“I think I’m gonna head back up to the house.” Sasha murmured, stepping backwards while trying to keep her composure. Sy frowned slightly, confusion marring his features. 

“You alright, darlin’?” Nodding quickly, Sasha waved the two men goodbye before turning on her heel and heading back towards the house as fast as she could manage. 

Hearing the buyer’s truck pulling up as she crested the hill, it was all Sasha could do to keep from running, afraid seeing her might deter Sy’s prospective customer. Inside, the cool air hit her and without anyone watching her, Sasha let her tears spill, elated that she’d found such a wonderful man, but terrified that it was all going to go south like it did any time she had even a modicum of happiness to herself. Overwhelmed with emotion and forgetting all about the hormones coursing through her, Sasha kicked off her shoes before beelining the couch, curling up with Hudson and letting the tears fall silently until sleep overtook her. 

Sasha wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt soft lips on her face. Moaning quietly, she braced for the kisses to turn to punches. With her eyes squeezed shut tightly, she was certain she’d feel the familiar wakeup call tear her out of her dream, which would put her right back to everything she’d run away from. 

“Travis, I’m up, I promise,” she mumbled, whimpering even as she put her hands up to block whatever violence was coming her way. 

When the gentle kisses stopped and all she felt was the circulating air of the AC, Sasha finally opened her eyes, confused; the sight before her put a lump in her throat instantly. Sy sat on the coffee table, back hunched over, his eyes gazing into a spot on the rug. Lips pressed in a tight line, two tear drops clung to his lower lashes, streaming down his face only when he finally looked up, their path cutting through the fine layer of dust on his face before he wiped them away slowly. 

“Ah, sweetheart. Wish I could take all your fear, all your pain away,” he whispered, sniffling and wiping a little harder at his eyes when the tears wouldn’t stop. 

Sitting up, Sasha found herself at a loss for what to say, her own eyes already red-rimmed from having cried herself to sleep. Looking at Syverson, she couldn’t help but feel the same guilt she’d felt during her first day with him. Only now, she could add making him cry to the list of things she felt responsible for. 

“I feel like I’m a burden on you already, nevermind you wanting to take on my pain,” she admitted, her voice small and pinched, Sasha looking anywhere but at Sy. 

Opening his arms, it only took a moment before Sy had Sasha in his embrace, holding her as close as he could and letting her fresh tears fall into the crook of his neck. Rocking her back and forth as he stroked her hair caringly, Sy could only think of one response to her words. 

“No, not a burden. A joy.”

[artemiseamoon]

The Golden Palace

Pairing: Multi! Oleg x Ofc , Ivar x Ofc

Chapter 1: Blood Red Moon and a Winters Sky

 | Words: 825 

All chapters here  | Next chapter 

Summary: Seraphine (ofc) adjusts to life as Prince Oleg's mistress. As everything becomes predictable the arrival of a Viking King feeds her desire for excitement. 

Warnings: Viking era fic so canon topics like kidnapping, that’s about it for this chapter though. If you don’t like stuff like this, skip this one. I generally do not write non-con, for many reasons, so made it that the Ofc is kind of into Oleg but also hates him. Sex scenes may be angsty but still consesual. All chapters will contain specific warnings at the top. Other chapters won't have a pre-essay, but wanted to cover all ground here and now. Overall this fic is: Adult 18 + only, Mature content, and Sexual Content

Credit: Gifs; Oleg one is not mine, credit to owner| 1st one is mine | Banners and Boards: Me 

Seraphine knew this was coming; the dreams started a full cycle before his arrival. They were always the same. 

Overcast skies; the blood-red moon above. A chill in the usually tropical air. The thunderous pounding of horses hooves against the ground preceded by a crimson mist; figures of men upon the horses with strangely shaped dark hats about their heads. They scream in a language unknown to her. In the background a laugh, a laugh-filled with menace and dark brown eyes looming in the clouds belonging to a face she could not see. 

This day was coming. The kingdom knew this as the neighboring lands were hit with the plagues of war and terror. They spent months planning exit strategies, defense, and recovery. It seemed to pay off in the beginning. They were winning against the intruders of the night. 

Then the fates turned. Since Seraphine was a child, she saw three visions for herself. The one in which she was in the process of fulfilling; the marriage to the very unsavory and rather repulsive King, a great ally her father and people needed. Second, she leaves the place she calls home to set off on her own. Or third, being uprooted and taken to a new and strange place. 

At the start of the battle, she told herself she would leave. To avoid the marriage despite the wealth and status it would bring. The wedding was to be in 2 moons time before the intruders came. Though, as the battle continued and things began to look dire, she knew the third vision was increasing in strength. Being her father’s only daughter, Seraphine was one of the first to be hidden away for safety. 

However, staying locked away did not sit well with her. A group of people was assigned the task to save the young, help them escape. If the young could be free of this, they could rebuild and start all over again. 

Seraphine knew her life was at risk to lend a hand for this cause, but their lives mattered more than her own in the grand scale of things. This was the deciding factor. She escapes her cozy hideout, past the guards to help with the escape. 

As the group successfully got the last of the young out, the brutal men dressed in heavy black and furs gained on them. It was chaos. Breaking away from the group Seraphine makes her way to an alley leading back to the underground tunnels to the palace. 

Nearing the corner, and overcome by sadness at the state of her home, Seraphine is distracted. As she rounds the corner, she runs right into something, that something she would realize was a man. 

Standing tall and still like a statue, his unusual dress made it clear he was one of them. Seraphine takes a step back. He grabs her left forearm, she can see a large sharp weapon in his other hand. 

A sinister smile dances on his lips, making his dark features all the darker. 

“What do we have here?” He asks in a language she doesn’t understand. 

“Let me go!” 

Seraphine yells in her own language as she pulls free from his grip. The strange man acts quick, pulling her back to him. This time her back to his as he clasps his free arm tight around her torso. He leans in close, she can feel his hot breath on her ear and the side of her neck. 

“Come. Let’s go home, pet.” He whispers. 

Again, she can’t understand him. She looks up at his face and realizes his eyes are the same eyes from the vision. The eyes looking in the background belonging to a face she could not see.

This place was cold, the chill felt deep down in her bones. Unable to stop her shivering, Seraphine feared she would fall sick or even die in such harsh conditions. 

The man with the starless eyes layered her in furs. She assumed the words he spoke to her were to reassure her she would get used to this, but she couldn’t be sure.

Upon arrival, his home seemed bleak. A large looming settlement among white skies. Cold tones of grey marking the walls and buildings. The townspeople dressed similarly to the men draped in heavy layers. Was there life here? What about the Sun? Did dance and laughter exist in such a severe place? 

Once they reach his palace, a burst of color appears. High ornate walls and designs. Elaborate archways and fabrics. Was the palace containing the only color of this place? The appearance of color and gold warmed her chilled bones up just a little; it was a sign of life and something similar to home.

The man, after insisting she drink some tea, takes her on a tour; speaking to her in his language while holding her arm tight the entire time. Two looming guards behind them like shadows. 

[peachyteabuck]

old school (make me drool)

summary: bunny is sweet, well-behaved. something about princess, though, makes her want to act out for the first time in her life. 

pairing: natasha romanoff x ofc

words: 2,663

trigger warnings: heavy md/lg, spanking, forced age regression, manipulation, there’s a vague allusion to starker, breaking of rules, 

notes/other: ANYONE WHO USES THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO BRING RAPE FANTASIES INTO MY INBOX WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY. this was inspired by @orphiclittleone & i highly reccomend you check out their blog!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

It started when Princess had to go with Steve to a meeting with Natasha. For whatever reason Steve decided she couldn’t be alone, and Natasha said it would be fine. Princess wasn’t too mad, unhappy she could only bring one of her prizes stuffed animals, but nearly-willingly went with her Daddy to Aunty Nat’s. Still, it wasn’t until she met Bunny that the pointed frown left her face.

Steve put her down onto the thick comforter next to Bunny, whose lips were wrapped tightly around a paci, hands clutched around a large stuffed animal of her namesake, eyes trained on the TV in front of her. Her long, thick hair was tied from her face with a pink scrunchie with a bow on it, her knit sweater a matching shade of pink. Her socks were stark white, ankle devoid of the tracker Princess had to wear.

Bunny said nothing at her guest, head only turning when Natasha caressed her face.

“Uncle Steve and I are going to do some work in my office, okay Bunny?” She placed a kiss to the girl’s head where her hair parted, careful not to remove any from her perfect ponytail. “I’ll be down soon to give you your bottle. Until then, play nice with Princess, alright?”

Bunny, still not dislodging the paci, nods and leans into her Mommy.

“Good girl,” Natasha praises, leaving one final kiss to her girl’s forehead before leading Steve into her office, a room adjacent to the playroom the girls resided in. In a moment of good faith, she had her coworker close the door behind them.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Steve chuckled as he sat in the fine leather chair near the fireplace. “I put that track on Princess for a reason, you know.”

Natasha sighed, grabbing the file from her desk. “If we weren’t discussing how someone was disemboweled by a small terrorist organization outside Orlando, I’d keep it open.”

Steve, already worried about what Bucky had exposed Princess to in order to watch her squirm, acquiesced.

Back in the playroom, Bunny made a disgruntled noise as Princess poked her chubby cheek.

“Do you ever speak?” Princess asked, nose wrinkled at her supposed playmate’s poor playful reciprocation. “Daddy said you were quiet, really quiet. He said you almost never talk. I’m not quiet.”

Bunny, much to Princess’ dismay, remains mute. Not a squeak, not a huff, not an eyeroll. Even Bucky’s Doll was better than this, and she was often too exhausted to give Princess enough attention for the girl’s liking.

Princess, though, is anything but a quitter. She pulls back for a few minutes, allowing her counterpart to relax. Just as Bunny seemed the happiest, Princess yanked the paci out of her mouth and pinned her to the floor.

Bunny tried to yell, but Princess placed her hand over the girl’s mouth before she could do anything. As Princess leans close to her ear, she whispers low, giggling as Bunny clutches her stuffed animal’s ears in her tiny hand. “Daddy says we can be playmates, do you want that, Bunny?”

Suddenly, in the span of less than a second, Princess hears her Daddy’s footsteps, hears the knob turning, and jumps off Bunny to the other side of the blanket. Bunny laid, there, stunned, as Nat and Steve picked up their respective littles.

As Steve bid his goodbye, and Nat turned around to close the door, Bunny perched her chin on her Mommy’s shoulder and locked eyes with Princess, who wears a smile fit for the evil penguins from the movie Bunny was watching before Princess showed up.

Somehow, Bunny knew their game wasn’t over.

The next time they met, Bunny is playing on a blanket in Natasha’s expansive backyard, dressed in a plain-pink one-piece bathing suit with her hair in two braids down her back and the bracelet Doll made her on her left wrist. Peter’s in the pool, sunbathing on a unicorn floatie. Doll’s curled into Bucky’s side, shoulders covered with one of her Daddy’s worn t-shirts – one large enough to cover her sensitive, bruised thighs. Natasha, Stark, Strange, and Rogers are all inside, making drinks for themselves as the sun swelters high in the sky.

Princess is the only other conscious person who remains outside, an easily forgettable body as Bunny colors under the sweet shade of the big tree in the back of the expansive yard, quiet enough that the occasional squirrel or bird will hop across her blanket and sniff at her forgotten snack.

She’s unable to ignore her counterpart, though, when Princess plops herself down onto the thick, cotton blanket specifically designated for outdoor use.

Bunny, despite her annoyance, says nothing.

Princess says nothing in turn, watching the girl in front of her meticulously color in the lines of a complicated flower.

“Daddy never lets me color anything like that,” she finally says, staring at the set of sixty-four crayons Princess had wanted for two Christmases and three birthdays but still never received. “Daddy says they’re too complicated for me.”

Bunny stops coloring for a moment, whole body stilling. Princess thinks she’ll say something, thinks she’ll show a break in her shell that’ll give her some in. But no, the sound of crayon gliding against thick paper fills whatever silence Bunny intended to proliferate with words.

It’s then that Princess takes out one of the most-loved crayons – a soft blue that’s had the wrapped long since pulled off.

“Do you like this crayon?” she asks Bunny.

Bunny stops coloring – bright orange crayon inert as she tries to swallow the dryness in her mouth. Fear paints her face as she gazes upon her favorite coloring tool. Out of all her markers, her colored pencils, her watercolor paints. None of those hold a candle to that one crayon. It’s the only crayon she doesn’t like Natasha using, the only one she saves for the special coloring book pages – the ones she gifts her Mommy for Christmas and for her birthday and when Natasha picks her up from spending time at Uncle Bucky’s place because she’s been on a business trip.

Which is why Bunny nearly cries when Princess snaps it in half, then crushes the pieces into something resembling dust. She does whimper, though, does drop the crayon she’s holding and curl her legs up to her chest and stares at Princess with these wide eyes that beg for her to stop whatever it is she thinks she’s doing.

“What’d’ya gonna do about it?” Princess questions. When Bunny doesn’t answer, Princess quirks her eyebrow then moves to grab another one.

Bunny gasps, tears beginning to well up in the corner of her eyes. “Please don’t,” she whispers.

Princess pretends not to hear her, and selects another well-used crayon. “Really, you’re just gonna be a baby and let me do this?”

Bunny looks around the lawn, begging Natasha to come outside or Peter to feel how frightened she is or even Bucky, a man who rarely pays attention to her but seems to like her more than Princess, to look over and wonder why there’s such tension between his best friends’ best little girls. Unfortunately (for you, at least), none of them pay you any mind. Somehow this is worse than when Natasha has to leave you alone for work or whatever it is she does when she’s away. At least then you don’t have to do deal with Princess.

“Please, Princess,” Bunny says a little louder. “Please don’t break my crayons.”

Princess smiles wide and sinister, like that Cheshire Cat from that movie you don’t like very much. “Alright then,” is all she says before standing up and skipping off to lay on the Aurora towel that was in the shade of a different tree. Even though she’s alone, Bunny remains upright, curling around her precious box of crayons.

The third time they meet is Bunny’s birthday party about a month later. The main festivities are over, all the adults drinking from Natasha’s expensive liquor cabinet. Doll’s curled up on Bucky’s lap, playing with a My Little Pony toy (Applejack, of course) and occasionally being fed bits of cake from Bucky’s fork; Peter’s enthralled with the latest installment of their classic movie marathon that’s playing just too loud for Bunny’s liking.

On any other day, Bunny would be elated to watch her favorite movies with her favorite friend. She’s allowed to eat ice cream cake (vanilla, from her favorite pastry shop down the street) and wear her favorite pink dress.

Her hair is in two low buns with a pretty pink bow. Natasha spent the whole morning with Bunny in her lap, telling her how cute she is and how much she loves her. Everything was great, perfect.

That was, until Steve and Princess showed up. Natasha was preoccupied with catching up in her friend to notice Bunny clutching her favorite stuffie or Princess’ sly smile.

Like the first time they met, she and Princess are placed on the blanket that sits in the middle of the playroom. This time it’s fleece, thick, one Bunny made with Doll one of the rare times they’ve had playdates together. It’s full of mint green and soft pink flowers around a bunch of sea animals. Bucky said he found the blanket kit at a craft store and thought the two of them could make it when he and Natasha were working in his office.

There were a few moments of silence as Steve pet Princess’ hair and explained how much Princess had been looking forward to today. Princess just smiles big and wide and teasing, waiting for the adults to leave before she finally speaks.

“Ya know, Daddy and I love teasing each other…” Princess says as if she’s the most innocent conversation maker to ever fail to meet her counterpart’s eyes. “You and your Mommy should try it sometime.”

Bunny gulps, fidgeting with her hands. “Mommy doesn’t…Mommy doesn’t let me do that without her permission.”

Princess scoffs. “Oh, you ask your Mommy for everything. Daddy hasn’t made me do that in forever.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Daddy likes it when I act out.”

“Mommy doesn’t,” Bunny doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to stave off what she now understands is inevitable. “Mommy doesn’t like it when I act out. She likes it when I’m good. I get candy, cuddles, stuffies when I’m good.”

Princess almost rolls her eyes, frustrated. “Maybe you should just try it sometime, just to see what happens.”

Bunny doesn’t say anything back, too scared of what would happen. Natasha always told her curiosity killed the cat, but could curiosity kill her as well?

Hours pass without incident, without Princess nagging Bunny or Bunny snapping at Princess or, really, anything happening. Princess merely leaves her to brew for hours, eating cake with her fingers and eyeing Bunny to see how she’s doing. Bunny’s lost in her own thoughts, the only indication of time passing being Steve coming in take Princess home.

As Steve picks her up once more, a smirk spreads across her frosting-stained face. Her eyes are knowing, full of mischief. In the background, the forest fire scene from Bambi plays on the large TV. Bunny wishes she could be one of the forest creatures running for their life, able to get away from the natural disaster that had descended upon her home.

Despite her fear of Princess, her words stick in Bunny’s brain like gum in her hair. It’s all Bunny can think about for days, maybe even weeks after her birthday party.  It gets worse when she’s alone, when all she has are her thoughts and her hands and…and…

Bunny decides to do something, do the unimaginable the day Natasha says she’s going to have lunch with Stark and Strange. That she’ll be back in a few hours.

Just enough time, Bunny thinks as she hears the front door shut and the deadbolt lock. Just enough time for her to do the unthinkable.

◦ ◦ ◦

“Bunny!” Natasha calls into the house. There’s the usual pause, one where she’s used to allowing Bunny to find her voice. But for whatever reason, she doesn’t hear the usual yes, mommy? followed by the pit-pat of her feet across the house. “Bunny?” she calls again, but the only thing she can hear is resounding silence.

Natasha’s heartrate picks up tenfold, not even throwing her shoes off as she runs to the room she kept Bunny in when she had a long work day. As she types in the code to open the door, Natasha is met with a sight she’d never thought she’d see:

Bunny, with one hand down her pullup, and the other clutched over her mouth. Her pale yellow pajama shirt is hiked up to her ribs, threatening to fall over where her hand meets her center.

For a moment Natasha does not know what to do, body frozen and chest heaving and heart racing. Bunny hadn’t so much as blinked without permission, let alone touched herself sans asking Natasha beforehand.

Squeaky, breathy moans slip past her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body shakes with the desperation that comes just before an orgasm.

That’s what snaps Natasha out of her trance, what makes her fly across the room and grab Bunny’s face with her perfectly manicured hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Natasha hisses through her teeth.

Bunny bites her lips, eyes wide with fear. “P-princ-“

Natasha almost growls. “What, Steve’s little?”

Bunny nods slowly, meekly, lip quivering in fear as Natasha hand remains firmly grasped over her jaw. “P-princess s-said that it woul-d be f-un to-“ Natasha, a woman who has not had a hair out of place since the Reagon administration, nearly knocks over Bunny’s designated stuffed animal bookshelf. Wordlessly, she places Bunny over her knee and exposes the soft skin of her ass.

Bunny hadn’t been spanked in years. Ever since Natasha had gotten her, broken her, she’d been the perfect little – so obedient and eager to please, smart and quiet, happy to play by herself while Natasha worked with the others. She was everything Natasha could’ve asked for and somehow more…

But this? This was inexcusable. She was a big believer in second chances, but those must always come after an appropriate punishment.

“You think just because Steve’s Princess can whine and act however she wants, that means you can, too?” she hisses, hitting each cheek twice. “You think that girl’s behavior excuses your own?”

Bunny yelps, trying to find the strength to speak without sobbing. “N…no…” she mumbles, digging her face into her and trying to curl against the woman whose lap she has found herself in.

“What was that?” Natasha snaps, hitting the backs of her thighs this time. The slaps of skin on skin echos throughout the room and stabs at Bunny’s ears.

“No, Mommy, I am not allowed to misbehave! I am not allowed to break the rules”

“Good,” Natasha says through grit teeth. She takes a moment to grope her heated ass cheeks, and you savor the sweet moments away from the sharp pain. “If you didn’t know your place, I would’ve had to call Steve up to see how he keeps Princess in line. Maybe Bucky, too. He once kept Doll in a basement for two weeks because she wouldn’t eat her vegetables. Do you want that?”

Violent shivers shoot through you. Uncle Bucky and Steve are nice enough to you, especially when Natasha’s around. But with her permission to discipline you in their preferred way? You shrink away at the thought. “N-no Mommy. No, Mommy I’ll promise I’ll be good.”

“Good girl,” Natasha coos, another few smacks landing on her bottom. “Now, for the rest of your punishment…” Bunny gulps, trying to relax her muscles so it doesn’t hurt as bad.

“Now, should I put you on meal replacement shakes or keep you in chastity?”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Coming Back for You 1

A/n: Dubcon warning. Dark!Gabe. 

Words: 3,942

Summary: This is the sequel to Animals (It may be a good idea to read that so you will know what’s up). Gabriel has gone dark. Rosalie has to deal with what she had lost, what she has gained, and what will lie ahead. 

Link to Animals

Pairings: Gabriel x OFC. Dean Winchester x Cas x OFC, 

__________

So what you trying to do to me It’s like we can’t stop we’re enemies But we get along when I’m inside you You’re like a drug that’s killing me I cut you out entirely But I get so high when I’m inside you Yeah, you can start over, you can run free You can find other fish in the sea You can pretend it’s meant to be But you can’t stay away from me I can still hear you making that sound Taking me down, rolling on the ground You can pretend that it was me

Rosalie’s eyes snapped open. She was laying on the floor of a strange room. This wasn’t the last place she remembered being at all. The last thing that she remembered was being in the bunker after the truth of Gabriel’s newest deception came to light. Now here she sat in the floor of what looked like a nice hotel. Slowly standing up, Rosalie felt like she had been hit by a train.

Putting a hand to her head she called out for Cas or Zoe via angel radio. When she received no response Rosalie snapped her fingers to get back to the bunker however, she remained stagnate on the ground.

“What the hell?”

Rosalie mumbled again trying to use her powers. Still nothing happened leaving the angel in a new state of panic. Reaching down to her boot, she took out the knife that Dean had given her. She ran the edge of the knife down her hand. Rosalie watched the blood flow from the wound that didn’t heal.

“Oh no!”

She turned walking from the bedroom into the main living room section of the hotel room. The only thing on Rosalie’s mind was getting out of wherever the hell she was at and getting home. As she tried to unlock the door and open the thing nothing happened.

“How hard is it to open a damn door?”

Rosalie mumbled tugging at the door.

“Going somewhere sugar?”

Rosalie froze hearing that voice. She turned seeing Gabriel sitting on the couch with one leg on the coffee table. He raised an eyebrow at Rosalie’s shocked expression.

“You looked shocked to see me.”

He said. Rosalie frowned.

“Gabriel, where am I?”

Gabriel looked around the room with a smirk as he stood and walked over to Rosalie. His eyes watched her with a catlike expression that made Rosalie feel a mixture of attraction and panic. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t her Gabriel. This was something else…something dark and sinister.

Before she could really move away Gabriel had her again t the wall. He looked down at her bleeding hand with a raised eyebrow.

“Now what have you gone and done sugar? Do you think that I am going to be around all the time to make sure you haven’t injured yourself in some stupid way?”

“What have you done to me?”

Rosalie whimpered as Gabriel took her by the neck. He tilted her head to the side running his tongue down side of her neck. He stood straight again letting his hand run down Rosalie’s body to squeeze her thigh.

“I turned you human.”

Rosalie panicked at that. She pushed Gabriel away, leaving the archangel looking more annoyed.

“Why would you do something like that?”

Gabriel shrugged innocently.

“Because I can. I can do anything I want.”

Rosalie gaped at him.

“Are you insane? You have to be? Is this all because Chuck showed up at the bunker and you got your panties in a twist? You bond with me then turn me human to break the bond? Why even bother?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Oh hush would you?! We are still bonded. I know everything you are feeling in that pretty little heart of yours.  This is all for the best Rosalie and I know what is best for you.”

Rosalie scoffed, trying to think of someway to get a hold of Cas and Zoe.

“You might as well forget that too. You try to leave and I’ll know about it. You’re mine and team free will can’t save you now. Further more, I am not worried about all that stupid mess that they are dealing with. I would rather go back to doing just desserts. Now here are the rules for our little marriage princess. You are going to do what I say and I get everything I want.”

Rosalie frowned angrily.

“So I am just here to be pretty for you.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Yep. Again I’m an archangel and what I want I get. Speaking of which….come here.”

Rosalie shook her head.

“Hold up big boy. You think I am going to just put out for you?”

Gabriel nodded innocently.

“Well I was hoping for a bit of a game which is actually going quiet nicely. You won’t be able to turn me away for too long. I can already smell your arousal and trust me sugar you are mouth watering. If you don’t give me what I want I can always take it. You can play hard to get for some time and please me. Remember sugar I can make your life hell too and you know I can.”

Rosalie felt dizzy. Was all of this really coming out of her lover’s mouth? This wasn’t Gabriel. This sounded like Michael or Raphael….even Lucifer to a sense.

“Come now sugar must you really compare me to those morons? I think I would be a bit better.”

Rosalie turned.

“Right now you are just as crazy.”

Before Rosalie knew what hit her Gabriel had her slammed against the wall holding her tightly.

“Rosalie, I am warning you now I love you but don’t push me. I can punish you and I think you need that. You need to be put in your place.”

Rosalie cried out as Gabriel’s mouth slammed against hers. Gabriel continued his assault on her body internally smiling when Rosalie began to kiss back.

“There we go sugar. See I was right. You like this as much as I do. You’re like heroin baby. My personal heroin that no one will touch ever again.”

Rosalie sighed as his voice appeared in her head.

“Gabriel please. I just want you. Just want my Gabriel….the Gabriel I love with.”

Gabriel’s lips pulled away but hovered inches from Rosalie’s .

“Oh sugar, you are just precious. I’m still me. I’m still with you and will still take care of you. I promised you that I would take care of you and I want you. Again I get what I want so…”

Rosalie swallowed. Maybe if she played along she could find away to fix him. Gabriel going dark had to be some weird malfunction in his programming right?

“But why do I have to be human? My grace was nothing compared to yours. You could overpower me in a blink of an eye.”

Rosalie asked. Gabriel gently sat her back on the ground before fixing the wrinkles in her sweater. He smiled his best innocent smile before going back to the sinister expression that was there moments before.

“That is a wonderful question sugar. I was thinking about Natasha…”

Rosalie’s eyes widened.

“Gabriel, no, you can’t hurt her. She is just a child.”

Gabriel blinked a few times.

“It’s rude to interrupt Rosalie.”

Rosalie held her hands up before motioning for Gabriel to proceed.

“Any how, like I said, I was thinking about Natasha and her nephilim condition. A regular nephilim can cause enough havoc. With Natasha being Raphael’s child her power could be unparalleled. I have her loyalty. Child or not she knows who can protect her and who will destroy her. If Raphael gets his hands on her she will be killed. You know that as well as I do.”

Rosalie nodded.

“I don’t see what that has to do with me being human.”

Gabriel smiled.

“If we have two nephilim that had archangel as the other half we would be untouchable. While I don’t give a damn what my brother’s are up to but its good to be prepared. As an angel you would never be able to get pregnant as a human however…anything is possible. With as much sex as we are about to have you will be pregnant in no time.”

Rosalie was silent for a moment trying to judge if Gabriel was making some sick joke.

“Whoa no!”

Rosalie practically shouted as she moved further away from Gabriel than she already was. Gabriel frowned, obviously displeased with her reaction.

“Gabriel, there is some stuff I can deal with but that is not one of them. I am not having a child for you! If you think that is why its a good idea for me to be a human you really a few bricks shy of a load. This has bad idea written all over it.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers having Rosalie in his arms immediately.

“You can and you will have my child.”

Rosalie reached out smacking Gabriel as hard as she could. Whether it be the shock of Rosalie doing something so stupid or the fact he totally didn’t see that coming Gabriel let go of her to clutch his nose. Rosalie took the moment to take off into the bedroom slamming the door before locking it. She quickly reached grabbed the knife  from earlier slicing her hand again. Maybe if she made sigil quick enough she could keep him out for enough time to make a game plan to get out.

“Do you really think that was a good idea?”

Rosalie spun around to see Gabriel leaning against the door frame. Any hint of the bloody nose that Rosalie left him with moments ago was gone. He was back to perfectly handsome Gabriel. His golden eyes watched her with nothing but pure annoyance.

“Rosalie whatever am I going to do with you? Enough toying around. I want whats mine.”

“I’m not making love to you.”

Rosalie said coldly. Gabriel sighed before walking over circling her.

“Again sugar I can smell your arousal. You want me so bad. Can you stop being stubborn and just give in?”

Rosalie didn’t say anything as Gabriel’s arms went around her waist. He leaned his head down breathing in her euphoric scent.

“Be a good soulmate and make me happy.”

Gabriel let his hand slide down her waist going into the waist band of her leggings. The moment his fingers made contact with her clit Rosalie cried out. Gabriel smiled wickedly. This was the exact reaction that he had been hoping for. If he could just get his hands on her Gabriel knew that he could have Rosalie exactly where he wanted her. Rosalie could only tell him no long. Before long Rosalie’s body would be calling for him as well.

“Thank you dad for soulmate genes.”

Gabriel thought coldly as Rosalie laid her head back on his shoulder. Rosalie meanwhile, whimpered the moment that Gabriel’s finger tip went inside.

“Gabe….”

“That’s it sugar. Say my name.”

Gabriel cooed rocking his hips against her bottom. Rosalie whimpered feeling his erection digging into her. She tried not to think about how wonderful it would feel to have him inside of her. Would sex as a human be different than what it would be as an angel?

“Yes princess it will be. Wait until I get all of your nerves on end and you are so desperate to come. You think I am an asshole now just wait until I won’t let you come. I am going to make you so full of desire that when you do come you won’t be able to move for hours. I’m going to be having my way with you every day.”

Rosalie moaned at his words.

“Lucky me that I got the angel with never ending sex drive.”

Gabriel looked like someone had handed him a 10 pound chocolate bar.

“Yes, you are lucky. You are the luckiest woman ever honey bunch however, it’s time for you to be punished for that little stunt you pulled a bit ago.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers leaving Rosalie completely naked and bent over the dresser with her hands locked to the sides.

“Gabriel, I don’t like this.”

“I don’t care.”

He said unbuttoning his shirt. Tossing it to some unknown corner of the room Gabriel began to walk circles around Rosalie.

“Look at you sugar. Mhm you look so sexy like this. I could take you so easy but I think I am going to wait.  Do you know what you are being punished for?”

Rosalie sighed.

“For existing apparently.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. This was going to be more fun than he had anticipated.

“You are just digging yourself a bigger hole. You are being punished for that smart mouth of yours and for punching me in the nose. For a human you do have a good arm on you.”

Rosalie listened to Gabriel babble on and on. She tried to deny that she was enjoying this. This was wrong! Rosalie jumped the moment she felt Gabriel’s finger tracing down her slit.

“Mhm sugar you should see how wet you are.”

Rosalie jumped when she felt Gabriel’s tongue slide down the path his finger had taken. She tried to push back but the bindings on her hands made it next to impossible.

“Gabe!”

She cried out as his index finger pushed into her body. Gabriel curled his finger while his tongue continued to work its magic. Rosalie was thankful that even though Gabriel had turned away from himself he still seemed to be an excellent lover.

As soon as those thoughts entered her mind Gabriel stood and took away his finger.

“Enough being sweet.”

Rosalie winced the moment Gabriel’s hand made contact with her ass. She didn’t know whether the sting or the sound surprised her more. Rosalie bit her lip trying to hold back any sounds of pain. If she made too much noise that would probably just encourage Gabriel to go even harder.

“Are you going to punch me in the face again or try to run?”

Gabriel asked before delivering another stinging slap. Rosalie jumped again struggling against the bonds on her hands.

“No sir.”

Gabriel smirked.

“No sir? Sir huh…that’s a nice addition. Keep doing that.”

Another stinging slap was delivered this time Rosalie cried out.

“Ah finally. I wanted to hear you scream.”

Gabriel cooed before leaning down and pressing a series of kisses down Rosalie’s spine. He leaned his body over Rosalie’s before whispering in her ear.

“What do we have here? Sugar you are getting wetter by the moment. I think you are liking this as much as I could have hoped.”

Rosalie moaned digging her behind back into Gabriel’s body. She could feel his erection digging into her ass she tried to get any form of friction on her aching clit possible. She was ashamed to say that she was in fact enjoying his torture. Rosalie could mentally see Zoe’s look of displeasure. She shook her head, trying to block any thoughts of her friend from her mind.

“See isn’t this a lot more fun than being in that silly bunker with those stick in the mud friends of ours?”

Rosalie didn’t respond thankful that she couldn’t see the expression on Gabriel’s face at the moment. She knew that if she did he was probably frowning that archangel like frown of his. It was that frown that probably made him resemble his brothers more than he would ever care to admit.

“Gabriel…..”

The archangel snapped his fingers before picking her up and putting her on the neatly made bed. He watched her a moment longer with a pleased smile. Seeing that Rosalie’s face was flushed and she was beginning to sweat was a lovely sight.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Keep your legs up. If you bring them down I will spank you a lot worse than just a moment ago. Understand?”

Rosalie nodded, trying to keep calm. She didn’t know what Gabriel had up his sleeve but she had the sinking feeling in her body that he would have his way and she would be pregnant sooner than she would be ready for. Things were always going to go Gabriel’s way and she would be just another pawn in his game of life.

“Yes sir.”

Rosalie replied as Gabriel took his place between her legs. He watched her hands that were clutching the sheets.

“Silly me. Can’t have free hands.”

He snapped his finger and again Rosalie’s hands were tied is silk scarves to the bedposts.

“Now back to the party.”

He said with that devilish little smirk. Rosalie could only hope that she was actually making love with Gabriel and not Lucifer. That would be all kind of a disaster!

“I can assure you that I am not Lucifer. I am a lot nicer than he would be.”

Rosalie frowned up at Gabriel.

“Must you read my mind?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes again.

“Again I can do anything I want. Best you learn that fact now peach.”

Rosalie leaned her head back against the pillow but yelped the moment something ice cold touched her folds. Her head snapped up seeing Gabriel with a glass dildo in one and tracing her outer lips. Gabriel smirked up at her.”

“This is the closest to another cock you will ever get.”

Rosalie groaned as Gabriel stroked his hand over her wetness to saturate the toy.

“See I’m not a total douche. I want to make sure you are comfortable when I shove this in you.”

Rosalie wiggled against his hand as Gabriel continued to stroke her.

“Why is it frozen?”

Gabriel’s golden eyes flickered up. He was truly enjoying the look of panicked lust that was written all over her face.

“Because it keeps that pretty little pussy of yours nice and tight so when I push in it is going to feel so much better for the both of us. Sugar I am about to fuck you so hard you won’t walk right for a few days.”

Gabriel didn’t give Rosalie any warning before he shoved the toy deep inside her.  Rosalie flung her head back into the pillow as Gabriel worked the toy in and out of her heaving body. He watched her face for a few moments before dipping his head lapping at her clit. Rosalie cried out raising her hips off the bed. Pushing her back down Gabriel moaned against her clit. He knew the vocal vibrations would drive her crazy too.

“Gabriel, I want to touch you.”

“Nope.”

He said simply as he went back to sucking at her clit and twisting the toy as deep as possible.

“I need your cock.”

She finally cried out. Gabriel perked up at that one.

“Oh so you want me to fuck you now?”

Rosalie nodded with wide eyes.

“Please….sir.”

Gabriel sat up snapping the toy away for another time. He watched Rosalie’s sweat drenched face for a few moments before shrugging.

“Since you asked so sweetly.”

Again he snapped his fingers leaving himself nude before climbing his way on top of her. Gabriel didn’t give her much of a chance to prepare before pushing in. Rosalie bit her lip enjoying the feeling of Gabriel inside of her. No matter how Gabriel was mentally this was just like making love  before. Gabriel looked down at her knowing that he should feel sorry how that she was mourning for him but something stopped him from doing so.

Reaching over he pulled the silk bindings on her wrists so that her hands were free.

“You can touch me now.”

He said calmly. As he began to move his hips Rosalie’s hands where scratching down his back almost encouraging him to fuck her harder. Rosalie watched the muscles in his chest and stomach tighten with each thrust and for a moment she reminded him of the archangel that he used to be. The archangel that had ’t really thought of the concept of “free will.” The archangel that he used to be when she first made love to him so many years ago.

“Oh sugar don’t be getting all sentimental on me.”

Gabriel groaned before cramming his lips to hers. His kisses were hungry as he continued to pound into her.

“Look at me Rose. You’re mine. If another touches you I will kill them. Understand?”

Rosalie nodded.

“I love you.”

She mentally smacked herself for saying this. After all the hell that he had put her through and she loved him. Was she crazy? Again she could hear Zoe’s voice in her head chastising her. Tomorrow she would hate herself but tonight she was far into the moment to care about the words that had left her lips. I love you was an admission that any angel would make to their soulmate. Gabriel was no different…no matter what was going on inside that brain of his.

“I love you most.”

Gabriel growled back. The words even shocked him to a point. He had almost decided that admissions of love were pointless. They had almost split himself and Rose up many times yet here he was throwing out I love you’s like a damn cupid.

His thoughts were interrupted when Rosalie’s body began to tighten around his.

“Oh no! No coming yet princess. You have a long night ahead of you.”

Rosalie cried out as he brought her to the point of orgasm and left her hanging.

“Gabriel….please”

The archangel appeared to neither listen nor care as he continued to bring her to the brink of orgasm multiple times and always slacking off.

“Gabriel, I can’t

Gabriel smiled down at her.

“I forgot that human stamina isn’t as good as what our used to  be. I may have to tweak your biology.”

Dipping his hand between her legs it only took a few strokes and thrusts to have Rosalie screaming his name. Gabriel watched her chest heave as she trembled beneath him. Instead of giving her a break he continued to pound into her. The moment he came Gabriel didn’t immediately move. Instead he remained motionless until he was positive his lover was exhausted.

Pulling away he took his place beside Rosalie before pulling her into his arms. Reaching between their bodies he placed a hand on her behind that was still red from his punishment. Rosalie took a shaky breath afraid that he was going to punish her again instead, the pain seemed to vanish.

“Thanks.”

She whispered as Gabriel tightened his hold on her.

“Go to sleep. I have some clients to take care of. You better still be in bed when I come back.”

Before Rosalie could say anything else Gabriel’s cold finger was on the side of her head putting her to sleep. Once she was out Gabriel looked down at her with a satisfied expression.

“This will all be worth it.”

_____________

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