#sacred assemblies

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

A Sacred Assembly

On the first day you shall have a holy convocation. You shall not do any servile work therein,

"Speak to the children of Israel and say to them, 'When you have come into the land which I give to you, and shall reap the harvest of it, then you shall bring the premier sheaf of the firstfruits of your harvest to the priest. And he shall wave the sheaf before the LORD to be accepted for you. On the next day after the Sabbath the priest shall wave it.

And you shall count to you beginning with the next day after the Sabbath, beginning with the day that you brought the sheaf of the wave offering; seven Sabbaths shall be complete. — Leviticus 23:7, 10-11 and 15 | A Faithful Version (AFV) Holy Bible, A Faithful Version © 2020 A Faithful Version. All Rights Reserved. Cross References: Exodus 12:16; Exodus 23:16; Exodus 23:19; Exodus 28:38; Exodus 34:26; Leviticus 23:8; Leviticus 23:12; Leviticus 23:21; Numbers 28:26; Deuteronomy 16:9; Ruth 1:22; Acts 2:1

[omegaremix]

I found a great idea from one of my all-time favorite bands. Ten questions and answers about my live concert experiences. I had posted them on my sister site @ourladyofomega, but this is the remix. I took the time to explain each one in full.

Dollar values double with each one.

First concert: Dream Theater + Big Wreck @ Vanderbilt Planetarium. A former “friend” became the lucky winner of a radio-station giveaway. The prize? 16 free tickets to this show. We ended up with balcony seats and my “friend” invited our former co-worker from the department store we used to work at.

Last concert: Cold Waves XI (Lana Del Rabies + Ash Code + Sierra + JK Flesh + Orphx + Front Line Assembly w. Skold) @ Le Poisson Rouge. Part of the Triple Crown Victory Weekend that consisted of meeting my Italian-Irish family at a cousin’s engagement party (Friday), and getting an amazing cakeday gift box from a Welsh girl in Detroit (Saturday). This was a (Sunday) show that I waited at the last-minute to purchase tickets and wound up going. Who in the fuck’s idea was it to not have a NYC Cold Waves this year?

Worst concert: none. I make sure all shows I go to are ones to remember. But, if you ask me about the worst band I saw, then Hemlock takes that title. They opened with Meshuggah and Ministry (headliners). Everyone in Irving Plaza just stood there silent seeing this outdated nu-metal band trying to get it going. They were still unknowns after being fifteen years of band, and looks like no one remembers them after that. Good.

Loudest concert: Dream Theater + Big Wreck. Did I say this was my first-ever concert? I had no idea how loud it was going to be. Without question, this one was deafening. I’m not sugarcoating it. I had to cover my ears the entire time up in the balcony seats because all I heard was this shrieking wall of white noise. I remember almost nothing of that night other than the fact that I was there.

Best concert: Hospital Productions' 20th (Godflesh + Prurient + Orphx + etc.) @ Warsaw. This was at a time when I started taking the NYC scene seriously. I just got out of nine months of stay-at-home post-surgery recovery, and I had a new clarity coming out of it. Hospital Productions 20th marked an important point in my life: it made me decide that this was the place and people I wanted to be associated with. I also got to see some amazing artists: Dominick Fernow / Prurient, Orphx, Dedekind Cut, Nothing, and Godflesh. Three of those artists I’ve already seen twice in one point in life and another.

Seen the most: Uniform (3) @ Output, Saint Vitus, and Knockout Center. There was a bill with Uniform opening, then Pharmakon, Prurient, Aaron Dilloway with Genesis P. Orridge, and Merzbow. The line to get in Output was pretty long that I missed half of Uniform’s set and didn’t know who they were until I got more into them. I finally redeemed myself to see them in their entirety at Saint Vitus with a lineup of Michael Berdan, Ben Greenberg, touring drummer Michael Blume, and bassist Jenna Rose of Anatomy. Redemption fulfilled. The third? At Sacred Bones 15th. They were an added bonus right after Jim Jarmusch / Squrl, so why not?

Most surprising: Sacred Bones 15th @ Knockout Center. I have dreams where I end up in so many weird places that could have existed but didn’t. They are no different from the places I experienced. Downstairs record stores, schools, quiet snowy roads, city streets and highways. It’s an alternate reality that’s slightly shifted within itself. I entered Queens’ Knockout Center for Sacred Bones’ 15th where Constant Smiles started the evening so quietly. I was blown away by the first moments of it. People were standing and sitting on the floor in silence during the set. The sinking sun’s rays blasted through the venue’s windows giving light to the current space, as if this show started in the wee hours of the day. This was surreal! It wasn’t anything like I ever experienced before. But that’s not all. What other show I went to had a lecture hall on the line-up ? LD Deutsch’s essay about time, which had everyone sit in classroom setting. I said to myself: “these weird things are happening that normally aren’t. Am I dreaming, or am I in a dream?!” I look back and it was an amazing experience. Nothing like it ever since.

Happy I got to see: Skinny Puppy + Lead Into Gold @ Irving Plaza. No other show I went to had the biggest one-day payoff. You will all kill me when I say this, but I once told myself that it was no big deal if I never got to see Skinny Puppy. WRONG. They announced a farewell tour, and I asked myself how big of a deal that was. I quickly reconsidered. I got my tickets the minute they went up for sale. So what did $150.00 buy me? An unforgettable experience; that’s what. Meeting up with five Tumblr mutuals to see Lead Into Gold and one of Skinny Puppy’s final legendary shows. We had pizza nights, walks around Manhattan, car rides to club night for an amazing after-party, and just shilling around absorbing an experience that’s very rare to have. And, as a special bonus, meeting Ministry's Paul Barker and buying merch- from him. I still can’t believe it. It’s very rare to have Perfect 10-days in my life. This was indeed one of them.

Wish I could have seen: none. I have seen all my desired bands on my list. Nine Inch Nails, Ministry, Killing Joke, Front 242, Skinny Puppy, and Front Line Assembly. That leaves KMFDM the only one left on my bucket list. I’ve seen other artists I wanted to with little or no effort. Those were Indecision, Unsane, Bauhaus, Linkin Park, Cold Cave, Snoop Dogg, Boy Harsher, Atari Teenage Riot, Pharmakon, Prurient, Merzbow, Black Marble, Nas…I could go further if you want me to. I have all day.

Next concert: I’m still on the fence to go see KEN Mode + Hide @ TV Eye and / or Balvanera @ Synthicide. I may not go, because I decided not to do anything by myself again after seeing both of last year’s shows with mutuals. But, we shall see. Wanna' play? Be my guest.

[acourtofquestions]

Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.

Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.

But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.

So hearth to hearth, it went.

To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.

Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"

Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.

Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.

Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.

Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.

Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.

A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.

Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.

Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.

"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"

Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.

[neoninky]

The more I see/hear about General Era Van Rouge and Chapter 7 lore, the more my brain sets itself on fire with possible ideas 😂

Like it’s great and painful at the same time

Also open invite to nerd out in my ask box or comment section lol go nuts now is the time

[thegodwhocums]

mans zooming in from 3008

[lordgodjehovahsway]

1 Chronicles 22: David Establishes Where The Temple Of The Lord God Will Be Built

1 Then David said, “The house of the Lord God is to be here, and also the altar of burnt offering for Israel.”

Preparations for the Temple

2 So David gave orders to assemble the foreigners residing in Israel, and from among them he appointed stonecutters to prepare dressed stone for building the house of God. 

3 He provided a large amount of iron to make nails for the doors of the gateways and for the fittings, and more bronze than could be weighed. 

4 He also provided more cedar logs than could be counted, for the Sidonians and Tyrians had brought large numbers of them to David.

5 David said, “My son Solomon is young and inexperienced, and the house to be built for the Lord should be of great magnificence and fame and splendor in the sight of all the nations. Therefore I will make preparations for it.” So David made extensive preparations before his death.

6 Then he called for his son Solomon and charged him to build a house for the Lord, the God of Israel. 

7 David said to Solomon: “My son, I had it in my heart to build a house for the Name of the Lord my God. 

8 But this word of the Lord came to me: ‘You have shed much blood and have fought many wars. You are not to build a house for my Name, because you have shed much blood on the earth in my sight. 

9 But you will have a son who will be a man of peace and rest, and I will give him rest from all his enemies on every side. His name will be Solomon, and I will grant Israel peace and quiet during his reign. 

10 He is the one who will build a house for my Name. He will be my son, and I will be his father. And I will establish the throne of his kingdom over Israel forever.’

11 “Now, my son, the Lord be with you, and may you have success and build the house of the Lord your God, as he said you would. 

12 May the Lord give you discretion and understanding when he puts you in command over Israel, so that you may keep the law of the Lord your God. 

13 Then you will have success if you are careful to observe the decrees and laws that the Lord gave Moses for Israel. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged.

14 “I have taken great pains to provide for the temple of the Lord a hundred thousand talents of gold, a million talents of silver, quantities of bronze and iron too great to be weighed, and wood and stone. And you may add to them. 

15 You have many workers: stonecutters, masons and carpenters, as well as those skilled in every kind of work 

16 in gold and silver, bronze and iron—craftsmen beyond number. Now begin the work, and the Lord be with you.”

17 Then David ordered all the leaders of Israel to help his son Solomon. 

18 He said to them, “Is not the Lord your God with you? And has he not granted you rest on every side? For he has given the inhabitants of the land into my hands, and the land is subject to the Lord and to his people. 

19 Now devote your heart and soul to seeking the Lord your God. Begin to build the sanctuary of the Lord God, so that you may bring the ark of the covenant of the Lord and the sacred articles belonging to God into the temple that will be built for the Name of the Lord.”

[tet-asw]

Open Litha (and TET's Thirteenth Birthday) Tickets, Sat, Jun 15, 2024 at 1:00 PM | Eventbrite

Source: Open Litha (and TET’s Thirteenth Birthday) Tickets, Sat, Jun 15, 2024 at 1:00 PM | Eventbrite

https://tet-asw.org/2024/06/05/open-litha-and-tets-thirteenth-birthday-tickets-sat-jun-15-2024-at-100-pm-eventbrite/

[aerikarkadian]

Community Spotlight: Ivo Dominguez, Jr.

We’ve made some headway with our extra special SMF spotlight series, but there is more ground yet to cover! This week, we’re going to focus on Ivo Dominguez, Jr. Ivo is no stranger to these here parts. He was a guest on my show last year for episode number one. That’s right, folks, the very first one. What a way to start things! But in case you’re new, let me explain… this series of articles…

[foldingfittedsheets]

My paternal grandmother was a librarian. I only got to see that set of grandparents once a year as they lived out of state. I fondly remember summers spent at their house watching That Darn Cat and The King and I on loop, hunting for water skippers in the back creek, and reading the entirety of the Peanuts comics.

Because my grandma was a librarian she was delighted to foster my love of reading. We made trips to the library every week. One summer when I was seven or so I got really into this kids series about princesses all named after gemstones, each had a unique magic power.

At the end of each book was a puzzle or some extra bit of lore to decode. All of them were easily copied down in some way. Until I got to Sapphire’s book. At the end of the story Princess Sapphire was in peril! She needed a hero to come save her from a terrible fate. And there, on the last page, was a decoder device. It needed to be cut out and assembled.

I had to help save the Princess!!! In the iron grip of a fever of imagination I immediately found scissors and started carefully cutting the page. The page warned only to use scissors with an adult present and I scoffed to think I needed supervision just for scissors! I was a hero!Her plight called to me from the pages, imaginings of how I would daringly rescue the beautiful sweet Princess Sapphire ran through my little brain-

And about halfway up the page toward my goal I froze. This was a library book. I couldn’t cut a library book! What was I doing?! Even now in my memory it stands as a glaring example of the first time I mastered impulse control. Tragically, too late.

I was distraught. My grandma had a sacred duty to books and I, villain that I was, had defiled a precious tome! I wallowed for some time in abject misery, experiencing the greatest amount of guilt my tiny body had ever previously held. I’d probably go to jail. For a crime as monumental as wielding scissors against a book I wouldn’t even get dessert in jail.

Gradually, I processed my way through the grief of my vile deeds. I couldn’t have the decoder, I slowly accepted. That might be punishment enough. And I had only cut the page halfway. So it was only half a crime... It wasn’t illegal to lie when you’d aborted an evil act, right?

I didn’t know but I didn’t want to face my grandma’s potential wrath. I have no memory of my grandma ever yelling at me. I waited until the next day to approach her.

“Grandma? I finished my book and when I got to the end I saw someone had cut the page! They probably wanted the decoder because I also want that but it was very bad to cut a book, wasn’t it?”

My grandma regarded me benignly. She carefully took the book to observe it and nodded. “It’s good to see that they stopped before they cut it all the way out. Let’s go tape this together, and then I can photocopy the page and we can make you a decoder.”

I was ecstatic. Rewarded for my honesty! I created and cracked codes for the rest of summer with the flimsy paper creation we’d made. I genuinely doubt my grandma believed that I wasn’t the perpetrator, but I loved that she acknowledged that the person responsible stopped.

[kdmiller55]

The Feast of Trumpets

23 And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 24 “Speak to the people of Israel, saying, In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe a day of solemn rest, a memorial proclaimed with blast of trumpets, a holy convocation. 25 You shall not do any ordinary work, and you shall present a food offering to the Lord.” – Leviticus 23:23-25 ESV             At the end of the spring…

[jvneeyres]

There's treasure inside that box, a handful of which could provide a lifetime of prosperity. Facing that kind of temptation, there are few men I would trust to self-deny. But it is not the treasure that concerns me most. Charles Vane's sacrifice is in that box. If your man is unsuccessful in seeing to his rescue, Charles Vane's death is inside that box. Along with my good name. Along with her lost love. Along with your late quartermaster's life. All the awful sacrifices made to assemble that box are now part of its contents, and those things are sacred things that I trust in no man's hands.

Black Sails, chapter XXVII.

[sillywizardman]

HI!!! After finishing Disco Elysium I wanted to read Sacred and Terrible Air, but there were two issues:

1. It’s not officially released in English

2. I don’t like staring at pdfs!

So I did what any sane person would do. That is take three days of my life printing and binding it.

TRANSLATION (“thank you Group Ibex” we all say in unison!):

PROCESS PICS:

I apologize in advance for anyone who has experience in this sort of thing this is so botched.

I have NEVER done anything like this before, I don’t even read books on my own volition, but if the Disco fixation wants me to learn how to sew and bookbind I’ll do that.

Four of the signatures above. There were nine total, eight of them with 8 sheets/32 pages and the last was five sheets I think. Threw the pdf into adobe acrobat and went straight to printing with those settings and the “booklet” option enabled.

Pricked holes through each signature! Used thumbtacks and a piece of foam I scavenged from my room, worked out great. It’s probably also worth mentioning I do not have a bone folder, book press, or any of the other fancy schmancy bookbinding tools. Flattened the pages with a pencil and pressed with D&D books…

SEWING TIME. I have never sewn in my life. My success in this regard can be majorly attributed to Sea Lemon on youtube, particularly this tutorial:

The process from printing to finishing sewing the signatures took ~8 hours. Now we hit our first roadblock, I had no glue for the spine! After going to sleep and waiting what felt like ages (literally 10 hours or so) before I was free to visit a craft store, I tried to find PVA glue because that’s what you’re supposed to use I think?? Yeah. They were out of PVA glue and my impatient ass got mod podge.

‘Tis glued! As you can see I added cardstock to the ends. Joyous day.

Also, you see that sketchbook in the pic? Yeah? You see that lovely cardboard?

It is now the cover. Rest in piss bristol sketchpad backing.

———

EDIT: I see a bunch of people want to attempt this so here’s a video on how to make the hardcover: https://youtu.be/Av_rU-yOPd4?si=7T5zgVJGAfPFBxn-

I didn’t use any measurements or advice from it but it’s a good reference for when it comes to assembling the cover from ~3:50 onwards. The boards are same size as your text block pages and spine, I think I made the cover width a bit longer just in case it doesn’t cover the text block though. Do not do this with the spine, I regret it.

And note, this is NOT a tutorial, it is the process of someone who got a bit too silly and decided to bind a book, obviously do your own research lol. Don’t be afraid to try it though, it’s surprisingly simple!

———

… So, now that’s done! I swore to myself I wouldn’t start reading SATA/PJÕL until I finished this project completely, meaning I’ll be doing that now yippee :]

[bratbby333]

literally just any smutty choso fic pls ☹️☝️

careful what you wish for, my sweet anon...i got a bit carried away

┊˚ ｡*ੈ ☁️‧₊˚ ❝ your majesty ❞ ˚ ｡˚ -choso kamo

⋆˖⁺‧₊♰ nsfw mdni ♰₊‧⁺˖⋆

cw: concubine!choso/dom!reader, infidelity, blasphemy, oral (f!receiving) wc: 2.3k edited by the loveliest: @remlionheart ༉‧₊˚. dumped my religious trauma into this one, i apologize

Upon the sacred grounds of your kingdom, there are only two rules to live by; No sex and no masturbation, for these sins grant you a one-way ticket into the fiery infernos of hell. This rule applies to everyone but you, of course. You are the queen, after all. You run your domain with unyielding power. You are a hard and fast ruler, feared by all who inhabit your realm.

You are serviced by your concubine, Choso, his timid, submissive disposition suiting you perfectly. You allow Choso to indulge in sexual pleasure that other inhabitants of your land are denied, while also relieving your own frustrations. You are his only exception.

You attend many assemblies throughout the day, some boring and some enthralling. A few banishments here, a couple executions there. You walk the grounds of your domain, taking in the fresh air, reveling in the way the setting sun kisses your skin. Your back is tense, and the expectations that the throne places upon you rest heavily on your shoulders. You need release. You need Choso. You send a nearby servant to fetch him, requesting he be bathed and brought to your room. He’s most likely doing his evening chores; he’s a diligent worker. Driven. Strong. Attractive. There’s no question as to why you chose him to pleasure you.

Strolling the marble walls of your castle, pondering the pros and cons of trade with a neighboring stronghold, your focus is interrupted by the lewd sounds of low grunts and wet flesh. You pause in front of the servant quarters, noticing the door is closed as you press your ear against it. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your suspicions confirmed while you listen in. No, this will not do. It is forbidden to partake in such activities and to do so within your kingdom's walls? Punishment is eminent. Your hand will strike down upon the offenders, mercy cast to the wayside. 

You push open the wooden doors, your enraged stare falling upon your concubine, Choso, ramming himself deep into one of your handmaids. His strong, muscular back positioned towards you, her cries of pleasure overtaking the sound of you opening the heavy spruce door. Fury courses through your body, but you can’t help but marvel at the sight before you. His broad, toned back tensing with every thrust, the sweet symphony of moans dancing through the still air. You grit your teeth, fists clenching on either side of your body, your heavy gown and tight corset making it far more difficult to breathe when coupled with your lungs constricting in a fit of jealousy. A knot forms in your stomach as you watch Choso toss his head back in pure bliss, his hips stilling as he unloads into her. Betrayal drives a stake through your heart as you watch your sweet concubine find pleasure elsewhere. 

Your voice broke through their post-coital bliss with ease. 

“Guards!” you shout, and not a second later, three armored men are at your side. The two of them jump at the sudden intrusion of your voice, Choso breaking away from his secret whore as his shameful stares meet your wounded eyes. The hurt doesn’t stay on your face for long though, blind rage soon replacing it.

“Seize her, leave the man to me,” you direct with the wave of your gloved hand. Within an instant, the guards pull the woman from the bed, dragging her down the hall before turning the corner, heading toward the dungeon. Her desperate pleas and anguished apologies echo through the castle walls. You pay her no mind as your attention falls onto Choso. 

“Your majesty, I-” he begins, but is abruptly interrupted by your palm suspending in front of you, your daring eyes begging for him to disobey your signal for silence. He knows better than to push his luck in this moment, the fact that he isn’t being dragged away with the woman brings a wave of hopefulness in regards to your leniency with his punishment. But his naive ideations of your forgiveness are all in vain as you bring your hand back down to your side before speaking again. 

“To my chambers.”

He stays frozen, his fear-stricken body glued to the floor by your overpowering demeanor, and your waning patience snaps at his continued insubordination.

“Now, Choso. I will not ask again,” you demand, eyes never faltering. He bows his head complicitly before reaching for his undergarments. 

“Don’t bother redressing,” you add, a tinge of seduction filtering its way through your harsh tone. His head snaps to meet yours, rouge painting his pale skin. He knows better than to object, especially now that you've caught him breaking the kingdom's holiest rule. Walking through the castle completely nude is the easiest punishment to digest. Heat prickles through his skin at the thought of what was in store for him and he prays that he makes it out alive. He inhales deeply through his nose before taking small, timid steps toward you. You glower at him as he gets closer, turning on your heels to exit as he dutifully shadows you down the hall. 

He kneels in front of your bed out of instinct, placing his palms against his thighs. You call for your servants to remove your dressings. He doesn’t have the gall to watch as you are derobed. He shifts anxiously as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in your master suit, looking up at you with prayerful eyes, taking in your body as you sit fully naked before him. He swallows the lump that constricts his throat. You stare down at him, and he's glad he's already seated, because the burning blue embers flickering behind your irises make him feel faint. You are the most ethereal deity in his eyes, his unwavering devotion makes him want to shower you in worship and graciously accept the punishments you dole out. Punishments he unfortunately deserves. You choose him out of everyone in your kingdom and he’s grateful that you allow him to indulge in sexual pleasure, but what does he decide to do with his new found freedom? Guilt gnaws at his flesh; how could he betray you? What possessed him to shatter the pact the two of you shared? Lust overtook his body in his moment of weakness, succumbing to his carnal urges, and now he must repent.

“Disappointed is an understatement, Choso. How dare you desecrate these holy walls with your sins. You petulant man,” you growl. His shoulders drop toward the floor, shrinking into himself at your words, head bowed in submission. Your hand finds the back of his neck, grabbing roughly at his tousled locks, a fistful of his hair between your fingers as you bring his head up to face you. Your other hand squeezes either side of his jaw, forcing his lips to part. You suck in your cheeks and spit. 

“Swallow it,” you command. He obeys. You slap him roughly before grabbing him by his throat. 

“You defy me within my own domain. This is grounds for beheading. I know you understand the terms of living within my kingdom.” You lecture, your sharp words lashing against his fully exposed body. Even in the privacy of your bedroom, you hold the same power as if you were sat upon your throne, commandeering all who are present. His pleading glances dart around your face, but his body can’t help but enjoy this. You run your eyes over him, his abs tensing and his cock pulsating, his angry red tip oozing like he didn’t just relieve himself in that whore only a few minutes prior. 

“Look at you…pathetic. Just came and now you’re ready to cum again.” You laugh at his disheveled state. You meet his eyes once again, bringing your head down to his, extending your tongue to a point and licking along his mouth. He whimpers, lurching forward in hopes to thread his lips with yours. You slap him again, pulling your head back but keeping your faces close. You click your tongue against your teeth at his desperation. You release his head from your clutches with a slight shove, returning to your upright position along the edge of the bed. 

“So, tell me, Choso. With your infidelity in mind, am I not enough for you?” you ask simply, crossing one leg over the other. He’s confused by your question, his mouth hanging open in hopes that your statement is rhetorical. If he says no, it’s his head on the chopping block. If he says yes, you will laugh in his face as you question the sanctity of his loyalty to you. Rightfully so, as you had caught him in the act of betrayal. Your eyes bore into him, head cocked to the side. 

“Speak,” you snap. He shudders at the gravitational pull of your energy. 

“You are everything to me, your Majesty…everything and more. I-I will forever be at your service. I repent. I give my body to you, and only you. P-please…make me holy again.” He hopes he chose the right words to spare his life. And lucky for him, he did. In truth, you didn’t want to lose him as your concubine just as much as he didn’t want to lose his life. You smile down at him, your hands reaching out to cup either side of his face, leaning back down so your faces are level.

“Are you willing to show me how sorry you are?" you ask, softer now, eyes low as you lean yourself back on your elbows. He groans at the sight of your exposed cunt and nods back furiously, leaning forward obediently to rest his cheek on your bare thigh, the smell of your sweetness overtaking him. 

“Look at me when I address you, Choso, and use your words.” Your voice returns to its original harshness, using two fingers to bring his head back up to look at you.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll do anything for you.” he whimpers out, trying his best to maintain eye contact with you. 

"Then make me cum, my sweet little concubine.” His expression brightens ever so slightly, gazing admirably into your eyes. This punishment isn’t so bad, he loves the way you taste.

"Can I touch you? P-please, My Queen...just want to pleasure you," he begs, his overwhelming arousal coupled with his fear of upsetting you again cause him to stutter. His eyes dart back and forth between yours, his eyebrows furrowed. His cheeks are blisteringly warm and he’s practically vibrating against your touch in anticipation. You're pleased with his desperation, nodding with approval, your lips curling into a mischievous grin.

His warm, wet mouth latches onto your pussy almost immediately, his tongue thrashing against your slit and lips sucking greedily on your throbbing bud. He hums in content, the taste of you coating his tongue deliciously, his body yearning for more as he devours you. You arch your back, thrusting your hips toward his mouth.

"S-so eager to please," you breathe out, words laced with the intention of mockery, your fingers interlocking in his dark, mussed hair. You groan at the sight of his lustful eyes staring back up at you through his disheveled bangs. 

"That’s it. Show me how much I mean to you…earn your forgiveness." Your words ring through his ears, spurring him on. Moans cascade from your plump, parted lips. He whines at your noises, the delicious sounds you make only for him. Clinging to the sweet melodies of your gospel, his pace picks up, sucking aggressively, hungrily, as if he needs to drink you up completely to survive. 

His thick fingers tease your hole before plunging inside, the pads of his digits curling perfectly to massage your sweet spot. Your head falls back, back flush against your silk sheets, grinding even deeper into his mouth. 

"My little slut…so thirsty for my cum, aren’t you," you gasp out, the tightness in your tummy intensifying. 

He hums greedily, continuing to pump into you, suckling harshly on your sensitive clit. He removes his mouth from your center before quickly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his free hand, rubbing quick, firm circles into your clit. 

"Please give me your cum...need to taste your sweetness. P-please, Your Majesty," he pleads, dipping his head back to your dripping cunt, lapping and sucking at you with fervor, the pace of his fingers relentlessly pumping into you. His deep voice sends ripples of arousal through your pelvis. His desperate words hang in the air, his frantic fingering and famished mouth against your core sending you over the edge. Your hips rut, thighs shaking as you cry out for him as you spray your release across his face. His rhythm continues while he works you through your blinding orgasm, groaning into you, tasting the hallowed juices he so hopelessly craved. 

His fingers slow, his lips detaching from your throbbing clit with a satisfying pop. He beams with pride, panting as he drinks in the heavenly glow emanating off your body, his lips swollen and his face wet from your release, your body aching as the waves of your orgasm finally simmer down. 

"My good boy...so precious," you praise, sitting up, your hands cupping his cheeks, his eyes lighting up. Your chest heaves as you work to regain your breath. He nuzzles his face against your thigh, his hands massaging your calves, sighing contently as you stroke his head, tucking strands of his hair behind his ear. 

“I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine,” he whispers into your skin. 

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚

author notes: wooo weee this was fun to write. had been dying to do a dom!reader, i hope yall liked it ♡ willing to do a part two of this!!

my requests are open! send a message here ♛ drop an emoji with your ask and ill add you to my anon club xx

thank yall so very much for supporting my work...i hit 100 followers today AND it's my birthday so i feel so grateful rn

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[buckets-and-trees]

Chosen, Part 9: Transformation

Characters/Pairings: James Buchanan Barnes/Bucky x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 7k Summary: Bound to the fallen angel, he sweeps you away for one more ritual on this full moon.

Content Warnings: skin marking/branding by cutting/use of dagger; explicit smut: oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse; supernatural binding; human transformation to supernatural being; terato/monster fucking

Notes: FINAL CHAPTER! Lots of smut and lots of information! Given the length, I could have split this chapter in two, and there was a spot I could have broken it off at, but this really felt more cohesive to me and I wanted to give it to you as one final installment of this long and winding tale. Additional Notes: To anyone who has not read from the beginning, I have determined that one could reasonably start with Part 7: Offering and read only the final third of the saga. Think Doctor Who when there's a new Doctor and/or companion and it's built to be a sufficient entry point for anyone new to the story. You'll miss copious backstory, but should be able to drop in and follow without any real problem.

Previous: Binding | Series List

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

James' powerful wings beat steadily as he carries you through the night sky. The cool night air rushes past, a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressed against yours. You cling to him tightly, your mind reeling from everything that has transpired, heart pounding with a mix of exhilaration and lingering pleasure.

As you soar higher, the clearing and the assembled crowd fade into the distance below. The full moon bathes everything in its ethereal glow, casting long shadows across the landscape. You've never seen the world from this vantage point before, and it takes your breath away.

"Where are we going?" you manage to ask, your voice barely audible over the rush of wind.

James looks down at you, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "To a place where we can complete your transformation in private," he replies. "What comes next is sacred, meant only for us."

You nod, nestling closer to his chest.

After what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, James begins to descend, and you turn your head to see the towering walls of the estate. With a graceful landing, he alights on a terrace teeming with ivy, jasmine, and more of the Luna’s Tears. As he steps through a set of grand French doors, you’re enveloped in the soft and warm lighting of a luxurious room. From plush rugs to the rich velvet curtains billowing in the gentle breeze from outside to the mahogany furnishings, it’s designed for comfort. But another word comes to mind as well as he gently sets you down and you look around - sanctuary. This is his sanctuary, a place where he can escape the chaos of the world and find peace in its lavish surroundings.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, pulling you into his arms so you’re standing face to face. His eyes are earnestly studying your expression, and his arms circle around your lower back. Your hands come to rest instinctively on his chest.

You take a moment to assess yourself, still marveling at the changes you feel coursing through your body. "I feel different," you say softly. "More alive than I've ever been." Your skin tingles where it touches his, as if an electric current is passing between you. "But also... incomplete? Like there's something more waiting to happen."

James nods, a small smile playing at his lips. "That's to be expected. The binding ritual in the clearing was just the beginning of your transformation. There's still more you could become, and I think the essence of Luna’s Tears in your blood is calling for it."

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip. The simple touch sends a jolt of pleasure through you, igniting the embers of desire that still smolder in your core.

“What do you feel through this?” you ask tentatively. “Anything?”

James' eyes darken as he gazes at you intently. "I feel everything," he says, his voice low and husky. "Your essence, intertwining with mine. The potential for what you could become. The hunger in your body, calling out to be fulfilled."

His hand slides from your cheek down your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. "But more than that, I feel a connection to you that goes beyond the physical. A bond that transcends mere mortal understanding."

You shiver at his touch and his words, feeling that same connection humming between you. "What happens now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

James leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Now, we complete your transformation. If you're willing."

You nod without hesitation, surprising yourself with how eager you are to continue this journey.

“Come with me,” he says, and takes your hand.

He leads you into the bathroom, as spacious and exquisite as his chambers. The moonlight streams in through a large skylight, casting an otherworldly glow on the tiled floor. He turns on the faucet, and water gushes out, filling a deep clawfoot tub with steamy warmth. You raise an eyebrow, and he explains, “Bathing in the light of the full moon is one of the elements for the transformation ritual.”

He reaches for a simple glass bottle, removes a cork from its seal, and begins to pour the liquid into the bath. You’re met with a strong and fresh scent of a smell that’s growing not only familiar but recognizable to you - Luna’s Tears. It’s been faintly surrounding you due to the flower crown that’s still on your head, but the essence being added to the bath is more potent.

A small wave of nerves threatens to wash over you. “Do I have to be unconscious for the next part? Won’t the essence of Luna’s Tears put me to sleep?”

James' eyes soften as he hears the concern in your voice. He reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "No, my dear," he says softly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. "You won't be put to sleep by this."

He guides you closer to the tub, the steam rising from the water carrying the intoxicating scent of Luna's Tears. "What you experienced earlier - the deep sleep - was caused by a different concoction. A blend of herbs and other elements designed to prepare your body and mind for the initial stages of the ritual."

James' wings rustle softly behind him. He reaches out and gently removes the flower crown from your head as he continues, "For you, the essence of Luna's Tears will now provide strength and healing. It will fortify your body and spirit for the transformation." He places the crown on a nearby shelf, then takes your hand to help you step into the tub.

The warm water envelops you as you sink into the tub, and you feel the essence of Luna's Tears immediately seeping into your skin. It's invigorating, awakening every nerve ending in your body.

James kneels beside the tub, folding his wings neatly behind him. His eyes never leave you as he begins to gently wash your body with a soft cloth. His touch is reverent, almost worshipful, as he cleanses away the remnants of the earlier ritual, blood and earth and sweat.

You shiver despite the warmth of the water, both from his touch and the implications of what he’s said.

As his hand moves with the cloth over every part of your body, it’s an intimate study for him, memorizing you inch by inch. You still feel somewhat exposed, but also treasured, and still slightly overwhelmed by all of this. But as his hands move over you, with no way to hide the soft, round parts of your body that you typically dread, he shows nothing but unabashed wonder and appreciation. It’s something you’ve rarely felt with any previous partner.

Seeking distraction from thinking only of his touch and what it means, you decide to test the waters of what he will tell you. “How exactly do you see this working? You’ve bound me to you through ritual and through contract, but am I to you?”

James pauses his ministrations, his hand stilling on your shoulder. His eyes meet yours, intense and searching. "You are my elim," he says, his voice low and reverent. "It's a sacred bond, one that goes beyond mere mortal understanding."

He resumes washing you, his touch gentle yet purposeful. "Your essence is intertwined with mine, your very being attuned to me in ways that transcend the physical realm."

James' hand moves lower, skimming over your collarbone and down to your breast. You inhale sharply at the contact, feeling a spark of desire ignite within you. "In the most basic sense, it means you are mine. But it's so much more than simple possession."

He resumes washing you, his touch gentle yet purposeful. "You are my chosen one, selected to stand by my side. You will be my partner, my confidante, my source of strength and renewal."

James' hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "In time, as your transformation completes, you will gain abilities beyond those of mortals. Longevity to match my own lifespan, enhanced strength and healing, a deeper connection to the natural world."

His eyes search yours, gauging your reaction. "In addition to that, you will be integral to my mission.”

Your mind reels at the implications of James' words. Enhanced abilities, longevity, a deeper connection to nature - it all sounds like something out of a fantasy novel. And yet, after everything you've witnessed tonight, you find yourself believing him.

"Your mission?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What exactly is it that you're trying to accomplish?"

James' hand continues its gentle ministrations, moving down your arm as he speaks. “That,” he says, “is a discussion for another time.”

You make an impatient sound and bat his hand away. “I’m tired of information being withheld from me! I want answers, and I deserve them!”

He reaches out and firmly takes your hand. “I will tell you everything, I swear it on our bond, but not now. There is more to the transformation ritual, and I want your mind and body to be completely rested and refreshed, and there are charts and maps and books I will want to show you in the archives.”

“Oh,” is your simple reply.

“Soon, just not now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You believe he’s being sincere. You feel it, actually, and not just in the metaphorical sense, you realize you feel some kind of resonance between the two of you.

He resumes washing you.

Your eyes roam over him. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, body sculpted as if by the gods, and you’d almost believe it, given that he’s an angel. He’s still naked as well, but now that you have time and feel comfortable enough to simply look at him, you notice he’s wearing a gold pinky ring and a pendant on a chain around his neck.

“What’s that symbol on the pendant around your neck?”

“It’s for protection,” he answers simply.

You cock your head. “Protection? But you’re an angel.”

“That’s part of the soon-not-now story you will eventually learn.”

You sigh, and he laughs softly. “Your keen mind will not be wasted, elim. Your desire to know is something I look forward to in a partner.”

Your chest swells a little at this admission. But it spurs another thought - one you think he should be able to answer.

“With all of the ritual, the destiny,” you start, “why bother with an employment contract? Why go through the ruse of it all?”

He chuckles. “It’s not a ruse. Everyone has a place and a purpose here, and if you’re going to work, you should be compensated. Nat was insistent that whether or not I bound myself to you, I needed some kind of assistant working with me on my projects.”

You almost laugh, but his face tells you he’s serious.

“Wait, so the foundation is… it’s real?”

He tilts his head, scrutinizing you. “You saw it all today. You met with so many of my people. Did you think it was all an act?”

“I,” you start, then stop. “I guess not, it’s just a lot to take in. I suppose now that I know what and who you truly are, I’ll be able to have a lot more of the questions answered today that I got denied full transparency on?”

He nods. “I imagine so.”

“Hmm,” you hum. After another moment, you ask, “What do I call you? You’re an angel, but bound to me, and also my boss?”

He chuckles. “Bucky. You can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky?”

“Supernatural beings are either assigned or choose a sacred name for their transformed state, but only certain designations are allowed to use the name,” he explains. “An elim can use the name.”

“And Bucky?”

“It’s what most people called me when I was still human. I wanted a moniker to remind me of my humanity - who I wanted to serve and protect.”

Bucky's revelation that he’d once been human sparks a flurry of questions in your mind, but before you can voice any of them, he places a finger gently on your lips.

"I know you have many more questions," he says softly. "And I promise, we will have time for all of them. But for now, we need to focus on completing your transformation."

You nod, realizing he's right. There's still an unfamiliar energy thrumming through your body, an anticipation for something more.

The water around you has cooled slightly, and you notice the moon's position has shifted in the skylight above. Bucky helps you stand and step out of the tub, wrapping you in a plush towel. As he dries your skin, you notice the way his touch lingers, sending little sparks of pleasure through you. The bond between you pulses with energy, and you find yourself leaning into his caresses.

“Is it always like this for an offering? For elim being selected, the binding, and this transformation? Do they all feel like this?”

He brings his head back to look at you. “Oh, my elim,” he says, voice dropping low, and smoother than any words he’s spoken to you up to this point. “I can not say. I’ve taken many offerings for the moonlight ritual, but I’ve never bound someone to me as elim. I invoked a transformation in Steve and Natasha, but not the transformation I have intended for you.”

He cups your face in both of his hands. “You are the first. The only.”

His words send a shiver through you, both thrilling and terrifying. You're entering uncharted territory, blazing a trail no one else has walked before. The weight of this revelation settles over you, but instead of feeling burdened, you feel empowered.

"The next ritual will be more intense than the binding," he explains, his voice low and intimate. "It will require complete trust in me.”

Bucky's hands slide down from your face, tracing the curves of your body. His touch reignites a fire within you, desire coursing through your veins. The bond between you pulses with energy, amplifying every sensation.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

Bucky leads you back out onto the terrace fully bathed in the moonlight. On a table near the edge of the terrace, there’s a wooden chest and a clear pitcher of water - though you would guess it’s more than mere water. He opens a the case as you reach it. It’s velvet inside, and there’s an empty spot, but you instantly know what’s missing, because next to it is a dagger that looks exactly like the one that he’d used in the clearing to initiate the blood bond. They’re clearly a pair.

Bucky takes the dagger from the case, its silver blade gleaming in the moonlight. He turns to you, his eyes intense and filled with an otherworldly light, and his wings unfurl behind him. "This is the first part of what will complete your transformation from elim in name to elim in being."

You nod, unable to form words as anticipation builds within you.

He guides you to the edge of the balcony. “Place your hands here,” he says, motioning to the stone parapet. “You’ll need to brace yourself.”

You feel the coolness of the smooth stone beneath your palms as you look out over the grounds. You must be on the fourth level of the mansion, standing naked in the moonlight. Bucky moves in behind you, standing so close you can feel the heat radiating from his equally naked body.

“I’m going to carve a sigil into your body,” he murmurs next to your ear. Your body tenses up, and he runs his hand down your back. “It will be painful, but should be less so given the transition your body is already making, the essence of Luna’s Tears in your system, as well as the oils from the bath, and the sustaining energy you’ll pull from the full moon.”

“Bucky…” your voice is hesitant.

Bucky's hand traces back up your spine, coming to rest on your left shoulder blade. "The sigil will be here," he says softly. "It will mark you as mine, and as a being transformed. The placement of a sigil is instrumental in the transfiguration, and an elim receives their mark here because it’s so close to the heart."

Bucky presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. "Are you ready?" he asks softly.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Yes," you whisper.

You feel the weight of his hand come to rest again on your lower back, warm and reassuring. "Remember, I'm here with you. Our bond will help you through this."

You nod, closing your eyes and focusing on the connection between you. You can feel it thrumming with energy, and you try to ground yourself in it.

You feel the cool touch of the blade against your skin, and then a sharp, burning pain as Bucky begins to carve the sigil. You grit your teeth, your fingers gripping the stone parapet tightly. The pain is intense, but not unbearable. As Bucky promised, there's an underlying current of energy flowing through you, dulling the worst of it.

As he works, Bucky murmurs words in a language you don't understand. The air around you seems to thicken, charged with an otherworldly power. You can feel the bond between you pulsing, growing stronger with each stroke of the blade.

As Bucky continues carving the sigil, you feel a strange tingling sensation spreading from the point of the blade. It's as if tendrils of energy are snaking through your body, igniting every nerve ending. The pain is still there, but it's overshadowed by a growing sense of power and connection.

You gasp as a particularly intricate part of the sigil is carved, your body arching involuntarily. Bucky's free hand moves to your hip, steadying you. "Almost done," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

With a final, decisive stroke, Bucky completes the sigil, then places his palm flat against the marking and murmurs a few more words. The moment he's finished, a surge of energy courses through you, so intense it nearly brings you to your knees. Bucky's strong arms wrap around you, holding you upright as wave after wave of sensation washes over you.

You're dimly aware of what’s going on as he sweeps you into his arms. He carries you back into the bedroom and places you softly on the large four-poster bed. The sheets are soft and cool against your skin as you lie down. Bucky stands next to the bed, his wings unfurling to their full span, but he rustles them in clear agitation.

"The ritual of the sigil is complete," Bucky explains, “and now your body will undergo transfiguration over the next few hours.”

There’s a sudden spasm that shoots down your right side, and you wince.

He puts a hand on your torso, and it radiates out a calming energy that allows you to breathe easy again. You put your hand over his, holding it there.

"You’ve seen that I have some power, but the strongest energy - to generate, to transfer, and to consume - is sexual energy.”

A strained laugh erupts from your lips. “Of course it is.”

Despite the lingering pain from the sigil, you feel a surge of arousal at his words. The bond between you pulses with anticipation.

"Are you willing?" Bucky asks softly, his hand still resting on your torso.

You nod, unable to form words as another wave of sensation washes over you. Bucky leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The moment your lips meet, energy courses between you, amplifying every touch, every sensation.

Bucky's hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arch into his touch, craving more. Your own hands explore the planes of his muscular chest and back, marveling at the softness of his skin contrasted with the hardness of his body. When your fingers brush the base of his wings, he lets out a low groan that sends shivers down your spine.

His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Each touch sends jolts of pleasure through you, amplified by the bond between you. You can feel his desire, his need, as if it were your own.

Bucky's hand slides down your body, coming to rest between your plush thighs. You gasp as he strokes you, your hips bucking involuntarily. "So wet for me," he murmurs against your skin.

You whine and spread your legs.

“It’s good that you’re so eager now, my elim, because I’ve wanted to taste your nectar from the source since the instant I smelled you in the clearing tonight.”

Bucky's words send a shiver of anticipation through you. He moves down your body, trailing kisses along your skin. When he reaches your thighs, he spreads them wider, settling his broad shoulders between them.

"Bucky, please," you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair.

His breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you squirm. "Be good for me," he murmurs, placing a hand on your hip to steady you.

The first swipe of his tongue has you arching off the bed, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips. Bucky holds your hips down as he continues his ministrations, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue.

The mounting pleasure distracts from the pain, but you’re feeling other sensations throughout your body that you can’t ignore. At one point you’re aware of your bones, heating up, then resonating for a moment, and then those sensations subside. Most of the other changes in your body, though, fall into the background against the canvas of what Bucky’s doing to your sex with his mouth.

Bucky's skilled tongue works you into a frenzy, building your pleasure higher and higher. The bond between you pulses with energy, amplifying every sensation. You can feel his desire, his hunger for you, as if it were your own.

Your hands tangle in his hair, holding him close as your hips buck against his face. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy as your body continues its transformation.

"Bucky," you gasp, feeling yourself teetering on the edge. "I'm close!"

He redoubles his efforts, sucking your sensitive bud between his lips as he slides two fingers inside you. The dual stimulation is your undoing. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

As you come down from your high, you feel the air literally moving through your lungs, hyperaware of every sensation in your body.

But Bucky is only idle for a moment. He pushes up to kneel above you, tracing his fingers down your thighs, causing you to shiver with pleasure. Then he grips your hips and flips you over and maneuvers you onto your hands and knees.

Bucky's strong hands grip your hips as he positions himself behind you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire palpable in the air between you. The bond pulses with anticipation, your bodies already in tune with each other's needs.

"Are you ready for me, my elim?" Bucky's voice is low and husky, sending goosebumps over your skin.

You nod, words failing you as another wave of sensation washes through your body. The transformation is still ongoing, every nerve ending hypersensitive.

Bucky slowly pushes into you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way. You gasp at the intensity of it, the pleasure almost overwhelming. He pauses once he's fully seated, giving you time to adjust.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, leaning over to press a kiss between your shoulder blades, then right over your sigil. There’s a pulse of energy that radiates through it, and you feel like it’s healing.

Bucky begins to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that has you gasping with each thrust. The pleasure is intense, amplified by the bond between you and the ongoing changes in your body. You can feel every inch of him as he slides in and out, your bodies moving together in perfect synchronicity.

His hands roam your body, caressing your curves and sending shivers of delight through you. When he reaches around to cup your breasts, you arch into his touch, craving more.

"That's it," Bucky murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Let go for me, my elim. Let me feel your pleasure."

His words spur you on, and you begin to move your hips back to meet his thrusts. The new angle has him hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. You cry out, your fingers clutching the sheets as the waves of pleasure and pain begin to mount higher.

As your climax approaches, you feel a surge of energy coursing through your body. It's different from before - wilder, more primal. Your spine tingles with an otherworldly power, and for a moment, it’s like you can’t breathe.

"Bucky," you gasp, your voice strained. "Something's happening..."

"Let it happen," he says, his voice low and commanding. "Don't fight it."

He repositions himself behind you, planting one foot on the bed to give him more leverage to thrust into your cunt. He forces your chest down, pushing your face into the soft sheets, hand planted between your shoulder blades, and he redoubles his efforts, slamming his thick cock into your weeping pussy. You moan and keen, and it mixes with his own groans and grunts of desperate pleasure.

the bond between you heightening everything, you climax at the same time, accompanied by another blinding burst of light as happened before on the altar. But in the next moment, there’s a searing pain that rips through your ecstasy. Your back feels like it’s exploding, and there’s a cacophony of sounds - ripping, ruffling, rustling, and your own anguished scream.

The pain is overwhelming, and you feel like your body is being ripped apart from the inside out. You crawl away from Bucky, desperately trying to escape the searing agony.

But as you move, you realize that something is off. Your body feels foreign, and when you reach back to touch your back, you feel something there that shouldn't be - a pair of wings.

As you turn to face Bucky, he holds a cautious stance, but his face is full of wonder and awe. You, on the other hand, can only stare at him in mute horror as you try to understand what has just happened.

You were so focused on fulfilling the bonding ritual that you didn't consider the consequences. And now it seems as though those consequences have caught up with you.

Tears stream down your face as panic sets in. You don't know what to do or how to control this new form that has taken over your body. You never thought the transformation would lead all the way to this - to your own set of wings.

Bucky speaks your name softly, moving slowly toward you.

You’re trembling, and your chest heaves with sobs. You didn’t even realize your tears had turned to crying.

Bucky approaches you cautiously, his hands outstretched in a calming gesture. "It's alright," he says softly, his voice soothing. "I know this is overwhelming, but you're safe. I'm here with you."

You try to speak, but only a choked sob comes out. Your new wings flutter involuntarily, causing you to flinch.

"Breathe," Bucky instructs gently. "Focus on my voice. In and out, slowly."

You follow his guidance, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. As your panic subsides, you become more aware of the wings on your back. They feel strange, yet somehow natural, as if they've always been a part of you.

"That's it," Bucky encourages. "You're doing wonderfully." He moves closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "May I?"

You nod.

Bucky's touch is gentle as he runs his hand down your arm, grounding you. The sensation helps calm your racing heart.

"Your wings are beautiful," he says softly.

You take a shaky breath, trying to process his words. "I... I didn't expect this," you manage to say.

Bucky nods understandingly. "I know. The full extent of an elim's transformation isn't always predictable. But this... this is extraordinary."

Slowly, carefully, he guides you to turn around so he can examine your wings. You feel his fingers gently tracing along the new appendages, sending shivers down your spine.

You take another shaky breath. "What... what am I now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky turns you back around and cups your face in his hands, his eyes meeting yours. "You're still you," he says firmly. "But now you're also something more. You're an elim, my elim, one of the pantheon of angelic creatures."

His thumbs wipe away your tears as he continues, "Your wings are a physical manifestation of the power you now possess. They're a gift, not a curse."

You nod slowly, trying to process his words. The initial shock is less overwhelming, but not gone. “And I’ll have these wings forever?” you ask, thinking suddenly of how you never saw this man before the midnight ritual, which makes sense as there’s no way to hide his large wings. Your heart constricts thinking of all the people you will never see again.

"Yes, but you’ll be able to retract and conceal them most of the time.”

“I-” your voice breaks, “I will?”

“Yes,” he says emphatically, and you know he must feel your enormous worry through the bond, “it’s only the day before and the day after a full moon when an angel can not conceal their true nature.”

Relief washes over you, and you sink forward against his chest, and his arms wrap around your lower back beneath your wings.

“I suppose that’s not the worst,” you say, already starting to see how you could build your life around that. Work will certainly never be a problem, as you won’t have to explain to your boss since he’s the one who triggered your transformation. You imagine it won’t be strange for you to go about as normal here on the estate, either. “I’ll just have to stay out of the public eye for two days a month.”

Bucky chuckles. “‘Not the worst?’ Oh, my elim, you won’t want to be anywhere but here those two days. I’m certain we’ll always have good sex,” he says, trailing moving one of his hands up your spine, and causing you to shiver, “but the unbelievable heights of sensation we’ve felt tonight? That intensity will only accompany the full moon.”

Your eyes widen at Bucky's words, a mix of anticipation and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. The memory of the intense pleasure you just experienced is still fresh in your mind, and the thought of experiencing it again and again, amplified by the full moon, is both thrilling and slightly overwhelming.

"So, this happens every month?" you ask, your voice a mix of curiosity and awe.

Bucky nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "The full moon amplifies our powers and our connection. It's a sacred time for our kind."

You take a deep breath, trying to process all this new information. Your wings flutter slightly behind you, and you realize you can feel the air moving through them, a strange but not unpleasant sensation.

"How do I... how do I control them?" you ask, gesturing vaguely behind you.

Bucky's smile widens. “It will come. You’ll develop mastery over your wings as you have the rest of your body. It will take concentration at first, and then it will be like breathing.”

Bucky guides you to stand up, his hands steadying you as you wobble slightly, still adjusting to your new center of gravity.

Bucky leads you over to stand in front of a full-length mirror. For the first time, you see your transformed self - your body still familiar, but now adorned with a pair of magnificent wings. They're smaller than Bucky's, but no less beautiful, with feathers that shimmer in shades of pearl and pale gold. You note that the coloring is not that different from Bucky’s lighter wing.

"Let's start with something simple," he says. "Try to stretch them out fully."

You take a deep breath, focusing on the new appendages. At first, nothing happens, and you feel a flicker of frustration. But then, slowly, you feel the muscles in your back engage, and your wings begin to unfurl.

The sensation is strange but exhilarating. As your wings extend to their full span, you gasp in awe. They're larger than you expected, easily reaching several feet on either side of you.

"Beautiful," Bucky murmurs, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. "Now, try to fold them back in."

This proves to be a bit more challenging, but with Bucky's gentle guidance and encouragement, you manage to tuck them nicely behind you - though not as tightly as you remember Bucky had initially in the clearing. You furl them back out a little, in what feels like a more natural position - at least for now.

"That's it," Bucky says, pride evident in his voice. "You're a natural."

You stare at your reflection, mesmerized by the sight. It's far too surreal, yet somehow feels right. Bucky steps closer and strokes along the bone of your wing from base to tip, and you fight between a whimper and a sigh escaping your lips, the feeling exquisite as he touches your wing.

"Sensitive, aren't they?" Bucky says with a knowing smile. "Wings are one of the most erogenous zones for our kind."

You nod, unable to form words as he continues to stroke your wing. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before, pleasure radiating from the point of contact throughout your entire body.

Bucky's hand moves to the juncture where your wing meets your back, massaging gently. You lean into his touch, an unrestrained moan escaping your lips. The bond between you pulses with renewed energy, and you can feel Bucky's desire rising to match your own.

"There's so much more for you to learn," Bucky murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "About your new body, your new abilities, the world you're now a part of.

Bucky's hands move to your shoulders, turning you to face him. His eyes are dark with desire as he looks at you. “So many new sensations to explore."

His wings unfurl behind him, and you're struck again by their beauty and power. He takes your hand and guides it to the base of his wing. "Touch me," he encourages.

Hesitantly, you run your fingers along the strong bone structure of his wing, marveling at the softness of the feathers. Bucky's eyes flutter closed, a low groan escaping his lips. Encouraged by his reaction, you grow bolder, stroking and exploring the expanse of his wing.

As you caress him, you feel an echo of the pleasure through your bond. It's as if you can sense what he's feeling, amplifying your own arousal. Your other hand moves to his chest, tracing the defined muscles there.

Bucky's hands aren't idle either. They roam your body, learning your curves and newly sensitive areas. When he reaches the base of your wings, mirroring your actions on his own, you gasp at the intensity of the sensation. It's pleasure unlike anything you've ever experienced before, radiating from your wings throughout your entire body.

His wings twitch and flutter under your ministrations, and you can feel his arousal building through your bond - and pressing against your stomach.

Suddenly, Bucky's eyes snap open, dark with need. In one fluid motion, he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrap around him, and he carries you back to the bed. He tosses you into the middle of the mattress, joining you immediately. He lays back and pulls you on top of him.

“Ride me, elim,” he says, his eyes hungry for you.

You straddle Bucky's hips, your new wings fluttering slightly as you position yourself above him. The bond between you pulses with anticipation and desire. As you slowly lower yourself onto his hard length, you both groan in unison at the exquisite sensation.

Bucky's hands grip your wide hips, guiding your movements as you begin to rock against him. The angle allows him to hit deep inside you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your wings seem to have a mind of their own, stretching and folding with each roll of your hips.

"That's it," Bucky encourages, his voice low and husky. "Let yourself feel everything."

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you increase your pace. The new position causes your wings to spread wide, and you feel a rush of cool air against the sensitive feathers. The sensation sends shots of pleasure straight to your core.

Bucky’s hands move from your hips up your back questing for your wings again.

As Bucky's fingers caress the sensitive juncture where the feathers meet your back, you cry out in ecstasy. The dual stimulation of his touch on your wings and his cock deep inside you is overwhelming. Your movements become more frantic as you chase your pleasure.

Bucky's own wings unfurl beneath him, the feathers rustling against the sheets. The sight of him, powerful and angelic beneath you, only fuels your desire further.

"You're so beautiful like this," Bucky murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "My perfect elim."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your climax building rapidly. Your wings flutter and stretch with each roll of your hips, seeming to respond to your mounting pleasure.

Bucky's wings curl forward to touch your wings, and a jolt of intense pleasure courses through you. You cry out, your movements faltering for a moment as you adjust to the new sensation. Bucky uses the opportunity to thrust up into you, setting a faster pace.

You can only moan, words escaping you as waves of pleasure wash over you. As you ride him, you become aware of a building energy between you. It's similar to what you felt during the ritual, but more intense, more focused.

The energy between you and Bucky builds to a crescendo, pulsing in time with your movements. Your wings are fully extended now, quivering with each thrust. One of Bucky's hands moves to cup your face, his eyes locked on yours.

"Let go," Bucky commands, his voice rough with need. "Come for me, my elim."

His words, combined with a particularly deep thrust, send you over the edge. You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, more intense than anything you've ever experienced. Your wings beat powerfully, sending gusts of air through the room as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

Bucky follows you moments later, his own wings unfurling fully as he reaches his climax. You feel his seed filling you up, and it fills you with an added element of satisfaction.

You collapse against his chest, and his arms draw around you tightly. You rest your forehead against his, and then he kisses you. Slow but passionate - not with a drive for more sex, but more of an earnest need to connect with you on a deeper level.

As your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of a warmth spreading through your body. It's different from the heat of arousal - this feels more like a gentle, comforting glow emanating from within. Your wings, now relaxed, drape over you both like a feathered blanket.

Bucky's hand strokes gently along your spine, his touch soothing and grounding. "How do you feel?" he asks softly, his voice filled with tenderness.

You take a moment to assess yourself. The initial shock and fear of your transformation have faded, replaced by a sense of wonder and, surprisingly, contentment.

"Different," you reply honestly. "But... good different. Like I've finally become who I was always meant to be.”

Bucky smiles, his eyes shining with pride and affection. "That's exactly it," he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "We’ve awakened your true nature, what was buried beneath the surface."

You shift slightly, marveling at how natural your wings already feel. "There's still so much I don't understand," you admit. "So much to learn."

"And we have all the time in the world for that," Bucky assures you. His hand moves to caress your wing, sending a pleasant shiver through you. "I'll be here to guide you every step of the way."

You nod, feeling a surge of gratitude and affection for him. The bond between you pulses warmly, a constant reminder of your connection.

"What happens now?" you ask, curious about what this new life holds for you.

Bucky's hand moves back to its soothing motion along your spine. "Now, we rest. Your body has undergone a significant change, and you need time to recover and adjust."

He shifts slightly, adjusting your position so you're lying more comfortably against his chest. Your wings naturally fold around you both, creating a cocoon of soft feathers.

"In the coming days, I'll teach you more about your new abilities," Bucky continues. "How to control your wings, how to harness the energy that now flows through you, and,” he presses his hand meaningfully to the small of your back at the same time he presses a kiss to your forehead, “answer all of your questions.”

“All of them?” you ask.

“All of them,” he promises.

THIRTY-FOUR THOUSAND WORDS TOTAL! Can you believe it?!

If you've come with me this far... I literally can't thank you enough for reading this. It really pushed my creativity as it's an AU area I'd never explored before. I hope it was full of delicious details, tantalizing mysteries, and I know I still didn't answer all of the burning questions... 🤭 Maybe if anyone is really dying to know, then someday we'll learn more?

But THIS is the end of this story at least. A nice, smutty end. 😏

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[sanflawoah]

I just noticed it now. I thought Erlang was pointing at the Destined One when he raised his hand, but it was actually him moving the cloud to cover the sun.

"Even stars shift in my watch."

Remember that the presence of the sun means the heaven is watching.

He knows they're safe from the court's watch in that place, as they're in Maitreya's protection, but I think that's just Erlang being extra cautious because well... you know the jade emperor.

"I have already opened the path for you. No one will disturb you there. Take your time to ponder," Maitreya said, stepping aside. Instantly, wind and snow swirled in from the opposite wall, casting a chill throughout the pagoda.

The Sacred Divinity stepped forward as instructed, stopping at the edge of the void. He turned back and said, "By stepping into this painted Mount Mei today, the Celestial Court will not be able to find me. Venerable One, would Mount Lingshan know of your deeds?"

Maitreya laughed, "Have we met before? The Erlang Shen I know is much uglier than you."

Hearing this, the Sacred Divinity said no more and strode into the wind and snow.

WHEEZING at Maitreya's last line💀💀💀. I think he meant Erlang's titan lion form.

I am so down for a possible team up between Wukong and some other gods in the DLC to fight whatever is going on in the celestial court. I mean hello we got friggin MAITREYA on our side. And I still want the heavenly kings to join the avengers assemble moment I like them ok.

[sarahscribbles]

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐕𝐀!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You hear the sharp sound of Loki’s footsteps on the atrium floor roughly twenty minutes after slipping the note undetected into his coat pocket. 

“You’re too chicken to fuck me in public,” you had scrawled across the yellow TVA issued notepaper, feeling a heat begin to form between your thighs with each stroke of your pen. 

Was he too chicken, though? You aren’t sure what you and Loki are exactly, but heaven help you you’re enjoying the secret trysts in broom cupboards and bathrooms. It’s what spawned the idea to write him the note - the fact that all your hook ups have been in secret away from prying eyes. 

It was meant to do nothing but tease him, to poke the proverbial bear, but with how quickly and forcefully his footsteps are approaching from behind, you fear you may have flown too close to the sun.

Your heart begins to thump wildly in your chest with each step he takes, and you lose track of what the analysts huddled around you are discussing. Vaguely, you catch snippets of their concern over yet another variant causing havoc on the Sacred Timeline, but their voices fade to a faint drone when the familiar scent of cinnamon and patchouli wraps around you. 

Each quiet inhale of his scent sends an addictive giddiness zipping through your veins. You imagine him slipping his hands in his pockets and feeling the sharp edges of the note - had he just stepped through the Time Door on another assignment with Mobius? Or had he only found it while they were already in the field? How long has he been stewing over that single, teasing sentence and assembling, to him, a suitable consequence?

It has you fighting not to squeeze your thighs together where you stand.

“Terribly sorry!” That familiar, smooth voice rolls over you only seconds later, and you feel two firm hands grip your shoulders. “I’m afraid I have a very pressing issue that requires one of the best minds in the TVA! I’ll have her back in a jiffy!”

Before you can even draw breath to object Loki’s fingers are curling possessively around your upper arm. His pace is frantic as he steers you through Chrono Bay Three, so much so that it really does look like the future of the TVA rests on your shoulders. 

You know different, though. 

You know that, beside you, is a man with enough pent up sexual energy to power a small town. 

It’s exhilarating to see what you do to him. From your place at his side, you can see the tense way he’s holding that strong jaw; you can see how his free hand is curled into a half fist, and you can feel the flex of his fingers through the material of your shirt like he’s itching to get his hands on your bare skin. 

Again. 

“So, what’s this pressing issue that requires my brilliant mind?” you tease him as he continues to pull you through the deserted atrium. “Are the threads of time disintegrating as we speak? Has Miss Minutes gone rogue?” 

You swear that the corner of his mouth quirks, just a little bit, and, for a second, all you want to do is make him laugh. 

Loki’s pace doesn’t falter even for a second as he keeps weaving you both through the intricate halls of the TVA, but he turns briefly to flash you that devilish grin. “Do you really wish to do this, darling? After that little stunt you just pulled?”

Something lurches to life in your stomach, but you forcibly will it down. This is all just a little bit of fun, really. A little bit of excitement in the otherwise boring days of being an analyst. What better way to liven things up than with this man with those beautiful green eyes and the…

No.

Not this time. 

You’re, ironically, saved from any further traitorous thoughts by the very subject of them. Loki comes to an almost comical stop beside that ridiculous “minimise chat in the cafeteria please” sign that’s become a favoured inside joke between you and Mobius, in large part due to the weary sigh it garners from Loki. He throws a casual glance at the handful of other agents milling around - none of whom seem remotely interested in either of you - and yanks you through a door with a sign that reads “Authorised Personnel Only.”

Although the corridor he’s pulled you into looks just like every other corridor in the labyrinth of the TVA, you recognise this as one you’re not overly familiar with. Does this one lead to Repairs and Advancement? Or is this the shorter route to the Automat? You aren’t sure. 

What you are sure of is that it isn’t very wide. 

You turn to face Loki as the door snaps shut. Even under the harsh yellow lights running overhead, he still manages to look every inch the handsome god that he is. It’s both infuriating and exhilarating. 

“A stunt?” you whisper with feigned disbelief. “Who would dare to try the God of Mischief?”

Loki takes two steps to the side so he’s standing directly in front of you at what counts as the “other side” of the corridor. One hand is deep in his trouser pocket while the other rises from his side. Between two elegant fingers sits your little note. “Care to explain?”

An impish smile curls across your face in tandem with your heart beginning to thump wildly in your chest. “Oh, that! I meant to slip that to the new Minuteman this morning. You know, the tall one with the blonde hair? Whoops.”

The god in front of you doesn’t smile. Instead, he inhales slowly, deeply, and locks those hypnotising green eyes with yours. “I thought we had addressed this little issue last week? Do I need to put you over my knee again?”

You swallow silently and make a valent effort to ignore the heat that’s rising to a crescendo between your thighs. The last time Loki had held you over his knee you hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for three days. It hadn’t been the first time and you pray it won’t be the last. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Your Highness.” You smirk at him, knowing how much he loves this.

The quirk of his lip is barely perceptible, blink and you would have missed it. He takes two silent steps forward, closing the remaining distance until he’s looming over you. He’s so deliciously close that you could easily get drunk on the scent of him and on the mix of mischief, desire and lust that’s swirling in those pretty green eyes. 

A lavender haze of raw arousal has settled around you like a blanket, twisting tighter and tighter with each second Loki stays silent. His lips are quirked in a half smirk that makes you desperate to know what’s going on in that devilish mind of his, to know what concoction of pleasure and pain he’s cooked up to make you pay for your brattiness. 

It’s foolish, though, to think you’ll ever be able to guess his next move. 

You become overly aware of the wall at your back when he reaches out a thumb and forefinger to grip your chin. It’s a soft touch, but there’s no denying the jolt of electricity that rushes through every vein and pore. 

Because that’s what Loki is; he’s electrifying. 

“On your knees, Agent. Now.” His voice rolls over you low and smooth, but there’s a clear undertone of dominance flowing beneath each word. 

A thrill of excitement shoots along your spine, but it leaves something else in its wake. Something that feels oddly like nerves. 

“Here?” you question him, turning panicked eyes to the rows of doors lining both sides of the corridors. “But…Loki, there are people here!”

Loki answers you with a raising of his brow. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. Perhaps you’re too chicken to be fucked in public?” He throws your own taunt back at you. 

Something in you bristles and you curse your nervous outburst. He has quite enough to hold over your head. “You wish. I do this all the time,” you lie. 

His face is impossible to read. “Then why am I waiting? On your knees.” 

He expects you to obey and the threat of what will happen if you don’t hangs heavily in the air. Normally, you’d want to keep pushing his buttons to see just how far you could push him, your ass be damned, but you’re so completely under his spell that you fall to your knees after only half a second of defiance. 

A satisfied smirk curls across Loki’s face. “There. See how much easier it is when you obey, sweet girl?” he purrs, using those sinfully long fingers to tuck some hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t get used to it,” you shoot back before you can help yourself. 

Loki’s answering laughter is short but genuine. “I wouldn’t be so foolish.” 

His hand curling around your skull is a sign that the talking is over. He holds you there firmly in place while his other hand works at the belt and zipper of his trousers. In several seamless movements, he frees himself from the black boxers he’s wearing underneath, and you feel the slightest pressure on the back of your head as he pushes it forward.

“Open,” Loki orders, curling a hand around his cock and guiding it to your lips. 

They part obediently and he wastes no time in feeding you his cock inch by inch. It’s becoming familiar to you now - the taste of him on your tongue and the musky scent that quickly wraps around you - and yoi’ve done this enough times before to know how much he loves when you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

As expected, you’re rewarded with a soft moan and the feel of his fingers flexing in your hair. It only serves to embolden you. 

Loki’s eyes drift closed as he savours the warm wetness of your mouth around him, and you take the opportunity to take as much of him as you can into your mouth, refusing to stop until the tip of his cock slips down your throat. With teary eyes you hold it as long as you can until you feel your throat start to convulse with the need for air. Only then do you pull back off him until just the tip rests between your lips. 

“Fuck! You divine creature!” Loki rasps out, curling his hand even tighter in your hair. “Keep going! That’s my good girl.” 

You eagerly obey. 

Ignoring the ache that’s beginning in your knees and the quiet hum of voices from behind several of the doors, you focus your attention solely on getting this man off. You do everything that you know he loves - you swirl your tongue hungrily around his tip and lick the aching length of him until his hand flies out to slam into the wall with a groan. 

“Faster !” he grunts, and when you peer up at him, you see him slowly coming apart piece by piece. 

That beautiful face is contorted in pleasure and several black curls have fallen haphardly around his shoulders. He’s panting and moaning like a whore, causing your eyes to dart frantically back and forth between him and the doors behind.

But it’s no longer fear that’s pumping through your blood. It’s raw, hot arousal. 

Loki won’t last much longer, but just when you begin to drive him towards release, he pulls his cock free from between your lips.  “Enough,” he says huskily. “On your feet.” 

Shakily, and with Loki’s help, you climb to your feet, but you barely have a second to appreciate the relief before his lips crash against yours. His kiss is hungry and dominating and, at the same time his tongue slips into your mouth, a hand is pulling your leg around his waist and pushing the brown material of your skirt around your hips.

“Tell me you were wrong,” he pants, hot and heavy against your lips. “Say it.”

“I…I was wrong,” you say as his skilled hands make short work of your underwear. 

“Yes. You were,” Loki taunts, “and I’m going to show you just how wrong right here in this corridor.”

One long finger begins to circle your clit at the same time the blunt head of his cock presses against your soaked cunt. You’re aching for him - you have been since the last time he had pulled you into Time Theatre Four - but Loki only slides his cock through your wetness.

“Fucking hell!” you whimper, reaching out to grab his shoulder through the thick material of his pea coat. “Loki, enough. Just fuck me, please!” 

You see a flash of white teeth before he rolls his hips, sinking his cock into you in one smooth thrust. It’s been so long since he’s filled you that a shameless moan slips from your lips before you can stop it and echoes down the empty hallway. 

You snap your mouth closed and look to Loki with panicked eyes, but he only gives you that infuriating smirk. “I hope you can be sufficiently quiet, little mouse. We’re in quite the compromising situation.”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, but press down on his ass with your foot to coax him into moving. 

Loki chuckles and thrusts into you once more, forcing you to bite your cheek to stop from crying out. “You do have such a way with words.”

His fingers stay at your clit as he thrusts his cock into you over and over. It’s enough to send you dizzy and you grip his shoulders for dear life, but it’s impossible not to let them drift into his curls. They’re soft and silken between your fingers - like they always are - and you’re rewarded with the same deep groan when you twist them around your finger and tug. 

It’s something you accidentally discovered that night Loki had taken you on top of one of the desks in the library - he enjoys having his hair pulled. It’s a small slice of knowledge that you filed away, and it only made you eager to discover what other filth this man got off on. 

Loki, it seems, is just as kinky as you are. 

“How is it…that you feel better…every time?” he pants and slams into you with such force that you can’t swallow your cry of pleasure. 

“Just part of my charm,” you answer on a single breath, though it’s a breath that’s quickly lost to you as Loki increases the pressure on your swollen clit. 

He builds you up expertly, and the tiny ripples of pleasure that begin to ripple in your core are like no other. Whatever this thing is between you and Loki, it’s ruined you for anyone else. 

Each thrust of his cock has the edge crest ever closer, and every pant and groan that escapes his lips has you clenching down harder around him. 

But it’s right when you feel the first swells of your orgasm that the scraping of chairs begins behind a door only a few feet away. 

You look to Loki wildly, but the asshole only waggles his eyebrows at you. “I’d say you have about two minutes to cum, Agent,” he whispers wickedly in your ear. 

You whine and tug him closer, willing your orgasm to wash over you before the door opens. You’re too pent up, too desperate to be left dangling on the edge today.

“One minute,” Loki taunts, though it’s questionable if he’ll last that long.

Maybe it’s from how relentlessly he’s fucking you and the gloriously filthy way he’s grunting in your ear, or maybe it’s due to the exhilarating thought of being caught fucking this god in an open corridor, but your orgasm tears through you only seconds later, drowning you in a pleasure so intense that you bury your face in Loki’s shoulder to stop from crying out. 

It’s white hot and steals the breath from your lungs. You feel it from the very tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. It’s a neverending tsunami that you would happily drown beneath again and again. 

Loki spills inside you moments later, panting your name and cupping your ass to keep you as close to him as physically possible. It’s a release so blinding that it leaves your ears ringing and your heart hammering in your chest, and you’ve barely come down off your high when your leg falls from Loki’s waist back to the ground. 

The afterglow of release settles around you like a pink cloud. Your chest is heaving as you stand boneless against the wall on shaky legs. It’s beyond you how they’re still supporting you in the wake of a climax so powerful that it’s robbed you of your ability to speak or to form a coherent thought. 

Though you aren’t sure if the feeling of relief is from the explosive orgasm he’s just given you or the fact that you managed to reach it before being caught. 

Your eyes drift lazily to Loki. He’s standing before you infuriatingly proud smirk as he tucks himself away and straightens the brown pea coat that you’ve nearly clawed off his shoulders. It only grows when he reaches out to straighten your skirt down just as a door opens several feet down the corridor. 

He takes a few steps backward to begin melting into the small crowd that emerges from within, but not without sticking his hands in his pockets and giving you a filthy wink. “Until next time, Agent.”