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gloomwitchwrites · 3 months ago

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Demon's Thrall

Incubus Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements, demon!Simon, incubus!Simon, accidental summoning, deal with a demon, descriptions of future sexual acts, power imbalance, master/slave, witch!reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Requested by @coffeecaketornado for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Summon a Demon)

Attempting to return what has been lost, you seek the Void, with the hope that someone will reply. What responds is a creature from hell. They return what you’re asking for but the price for such an ask is your soul.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

There is fire in the air. Salt on your tongue.

Power surges through you, heating your blood, and lifting you into the air. Words, old and ancient, drip from your lips. The grimoire in your hands glows, the pages tinged in blood-red. Its cover is leathery, made of human flesh and lined with animal teeth.

You've been searching for years, delving through dimensions to seek a spell that might return what you've lost. The pentagram on the floor radiates yellow light as the candle flames around you go out.

This is your last hope. A final attempt.

Little witch.

The voice is deep, whispering in your ear. It is not one you recognize.

Ignoring the voice, you remain focused on the spell, chanting until the air kicks up and roars in your ears. The pentagram's glow increases, almost blinding in its intensity. There is a heavenly bright quality to the light, and hope swells in your chest, spurring your chanting to a louder crescendo.

Little witch.

A dark form takes shakes within the light. It’s slightly round in shape, like a hunched figure. You are so close. This is what you’ve been waiting for. Everything you’ve lost will be returned.

You will be whole. You will be happy.

The final words fall from your lips, and a sense of completion settles over you. The ritual is done. It is complete. You’ve finally succeeded after years of trial.

The wind dies, the air calming, and your feet return to solid ground. The pentagram’s glow dims, revealing the figure crouched within. Whatever dark shadow obscured them within the light melts away in tendrils of black sludge, revealing…wings.

Leathery, bat-like wings.

They ripple. Shake.

Expand.

As the bat wings unfurl, the first thing you see are stone grey horns. They curl slightly out and back, the sharpened tips pointed upward toward the ceiling. They are connected to a man, his skin flushed a subtle shade of red. His legs and torso are bent, his arms crossed over his knees protectively.

Behind the thick, muscled arms is movement. The man lifts his head, and you’re met with eyes so black they resemble bottomless pits. They are consuming and yet empty, begging you to fall inside and tumble forever without ever knowing the relief of death.

Staring directly at you, he blinks slowly like a contented cat. Some of the darkness bleeds away in his eyes, revealing fiery pupils. A wickedly cruel smile forms, stretching across his face in a way that unsettles you.

The quiet after the ritual is drowned out by his power, the intensity of it slamming into you like a wave. It is immense. Suffocating. You feel no pain. No hatred. It is violent arousal, so pure and unfiltered that your body shudders as if in ecstasy.

Incubus. Demon.

"I did not summon you," you growl, fighting through his demanding presence. It wants to wiggle in, you twist around your heart, to make you orgasm to feed his infernal desire.

"Oh, little witch. You did," he purrs.

With a languid, hypnotic sway, the naked demon before you revealing himself completely, standing tall and proud in the middle of the pentagram.

He is solid muscle—all strength. Broad shoulders give way to a firm chest and abdomen. Scars pepper his skin. They are not haphazard or random. There is a pattern. There is a purpose. The scars on his chest and abdomen spiral downward, circling the base of his erect cock in a mandala-like pattern.

Your gaze lands on the hardened appendage. It is ribbed and pierced on the underside. The base is slightly rounder, the skin a bit loose as if it could swell. His testicles are heavy and large. There are scars there, too.

He is terrifying, yet entirely alluring.

"I didn't call for a sex demon."

The demon smiles, showing his fangs. "You asked for something to be returned to you.” He extends his arms in a placating gesture. “And I have granted it."

Bitter hope blooms in your chest though you know that demons enjoy a good lie. "You grant me nothing."

The demon's smile doesn't fade. "If I could not grant your request, I'd be in your thrall. Trapped within this pentagram. Unable to touch you.”

"You are in my thrall, demon.”

He shakes his head. "No, love. You are in mine."

With a snap of his fingers, a heavy weight seizes your neck. Instinctually, you claw at your throat, dropping the grimoire. Your seeking fingers find solid metal.

A collar. A fucking collar.

“What have you done?” you ask, panic rising in your voice.

The demon does not reply. He lifts his hand, palm upward, and then brings his fist together as if he holds an invisible robe. He tugs that transparent tether and you jerk forward, falling onto your face.

The wooden floor slams into your stomach, pushing all the air from your lungs. The demon tugs again, and you’re dragged across it. Gathering your wits, you flip onto your back, your own hands clawing at the air in front of you to find the invisible chain.

“No!” you screech, finding the connection. “You are contained!”

A sob quickly rises with the panic, threatening to burst forth from your lips as you dig your heels in. Every tug draws you closer and closer to the pentagram.

Glancing over your shoulder, you seek the grimoire where you dropped it. As if sensing your intent, the demon pulls on your chain harder, yanking you back around to face him. With a snarl, you jerk back against the chain to put distance between the two of you.

The demon is stronger, and with a final tug, you’re yanked onto your feet and hauled over the pentagram. You slam into him, but the incubus is a solid wall, and his hard cock pokes at your stomach like a demanding prod. It’s a threat of what’s to come.

You've heard the stories. Incubi love witches. They last longer in hell, and their wombs can carry demon spawn easier than any human. For them, witches are a treasure. Human women are shared. Witches are hoarded. At least this one won't share you with others. He'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you alive and healthy but only for his own ends.

"You asked for revival,” he purrs, breath warm against your skin. “The one you sought dwells in my realm. I granted your request. Now you're mine. Forever."

The incubus snaps his fingers and the grimoire ignites, consumed in flame. With a roar, you lash out with all the power you have.

Nothing swells. Nothing ignites.

You are empty. Hollow.

Your magic does not answer your call.

"What have you done?" you gasp, staring down at your hands before turning your threatening gaze on him.

"It's only silenced," he murmurs. "Not gone."

You pound your fist against his chest but the demon does not falter. It's like hitting a brick wall. You use your other fist, striking out repeatedly but the demon is unfazed.

"Are you done with your tantrum, little witch?” he asks, bored.

"You've made me your slave," you hiss.

The demon's pleased purr only tightens the leash further. "Your words. Not mine."

"You've put a collar around my neck."

"We made a bargain."

"We did no such thing,” you insist.

The demon’s head tilts slightly, amused. “You called out to the Void. You asked for help. Any help. And I granted it. If you didn’t want something to answer, then why do it?”

Because I want everything to be as it was.

You remain silent, jaw tense as you grind your teeth. You will not justify yourself to this monster. Your actions are your own.

“I have nothing to say to you, demon,” you reply slowly.

"Ghost," he corrects with a cocky smile. "That is what you are to call me. Or," he shrugs.

"Master. Since you seem to prefer that."

"You're foul," you mutter.

Ghost's smile is almost mocking, as if you're a petulant ignorant child who knows nothing of the world. "Oh, little witch. You'll change your tune. I guarantee it.”

You lean as far back as you can which isn’t much. Ghost’s hold on your chain is unrelenting. "What is worse than being at the beck and call of a demon?"

Ghost’s head dips intimately as if to kiss you. You jerk back, but wince when the metal of the collar bites into the nape of your neck.

"Any hellspawn might have answered your call,” he whispers gently. “Would you like one of the Grand Dukes? They’re an…interesting bunch. Their harems are vast, but a witch to add to a collection? You’d have them all fighting over you.” Ghost chuckles softly. “Exchanging beds constantly. Satiating their every appetite.”

Your nostrils flare in anger. Jerking on the chain does nothing, and Ghost does not move away from you. He remains close like a lover.

“Or perhaps a Lord of pestilence? Can you imagine yourself in one their laps for all eternity? Constantly sick. Constantly ill. A new disease to test on your flesh whenever they please.” When you don’t reply to his remarks, Ghost continues. “What about a Torturer from one of Nine Circles?”

"You're teasing me,” you growl.

Ghost shakes his head. “I am merely telling you the truth.” He lowers his voice, a menacing promise. “They will take. They will hurt.” His gaze drops to your lips, observing your mouth. His hand upon the chain gives a little tug, and that one little pull almost closes the distance. His thumb traces your chin, the sharpened nail lightly pressing against your bottom lip.

“I am a demon of pleasure,” he purrs. “You’ll spend your waking hours keeping my cock wet and warm. All you’ll know are the orgasms I give you.” Ghost’s head lowers further, lips brushing against your cheek as he continues. “You’ll look beautiful in my lap. Naked. Skin glistening with sweat from hell’s fires. Cunt full of my cock.” The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. “Promise you’ll enjoy the piercing, little witch.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter.

He sighs. “You think me cruel now. But I promise, little witch, you’ll be begging for me.”

“I don’t beg.”

“For my cock you will.” One muscled arm comes around to your back, blocking escape. “You will resist. You will hate me even. But in time, you will want me. I’m a patient demon. I can wait.”

“Then you’ll wait for all eternity. You are no different from your brothers and sisters”

He exhales, lips tracing against your cheekbone to move to your ear. “I cannot wait to fill your holes. To gift you with my seed. To know what you sound like when you orgasm with my cock inside you.” Deep in his throat comes a rolling groan. “You will want no others.”

“I will never want you,” you whisper, but even your strength is wavering.

Ghost’s grip on your leash tightens until the metal digs into your skin. He draws you in until there is no space between your bodies. His hard cock digs into your abdomen. Through your clothes, you can feel the ribbed shaft. Though you abhor the idea of spreading your legs for this hellspawn, you’re also curious about how he’d feel inside you.

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. "Already you lean in my favor."

"You're delusional."

Ghost traces the curve of your ear with his forked tongue. "I can smell your arousal, little witch."

Against your buttocks, Ghost’s tail traces a trail downward. It ventures between your legs. You stiffen as the tip slips between skin and fabric, toying with your entrance. For a moment, you think it might dip inside, but it retreats.

The tip of his tail appears before you. The two of you observe it. It is glossy with your arousal.

In stunned silence, you watch as Ghost licks the slickness off. A pleased groan escapes him. "Beautiful. Tasting you properly will be an honor." The middle of his brow creases slightly, and that wicked smile returns.

"Ready to descend, little witch?”

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wicked-barbie · 26 days ago

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I feel her heart beating in me

Wicked: Elphaba Thropp x fem!reader

Rating: Teen

WC: 1.4k

Prompt: “I'm everything she never was. Now everyone's out for my blood” -Anything Like Me by Poppy for @sweetspicybingo (Lyrical Bingo Collection)

Warnings: WLW, blending of book and musical lore, angst, SPOILERS IF YOU’RE NOT FAMILIAR WITH HOW THE MUSICAL ENDS

Summary: You’re on the run with Elphaba, finding a brief respite in Quadling Country

Elphaba’s hand furled tightly around yours, her pointed green nails nipping your skin as she tugged you along. You gasped for air as you focused on running as fast as you could, the Grimmerie tucked tightly under your other arm. There wasn’t any time to waste; Fiyero’s cryptic message arrived only moments ago, providing very little time for escape. The broom slipped between Elphaba’s thighs as you wrapped one arm tightly around her waist as she lifted into the sky. Behind you, the winged monkeys followed, and a few swooped down to attack the guards and keep them off Elphaba’s trail.

You pressed your face into Elphie’s shoulder, trembling as your other arm continued to grip the Grimmerie. “Where will we go?” you whispered.

“I don’t know,” Elphaba answered honestly.

When your wits returned, you suggested, “Quadling Country seems the safest choice. They’ve grown tired of being exploited by the Wizard. Surely, they might aid our cause.”

“Our cause, is it?” Elphaba teased, and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew there was a smirk on her face.

“We are in this together whether you like it or not,” you pointed out.

“I’m glad,” she replied honestly, resting one hand on top of yours as the other gripped the broom handle.

The hill to cross into Quadling Country was steep and rocky, and you felt relief when your feet finally settled on the smooth, red-paved road. Quadling Country mimicked the Emerald City, but everything was bathed in red instead of green. Even the occupants possessed a deep ruddy, and beautiful complexion.

“It is her! The Witch!” a woman screamed, pointing her finger accusingly.

“Hush! She stands against the Wizard, the man who has worked us to the bone and exploited us,” a man responded.

“We welcome you, witch!” a few voices cheered amongst the gathering masses.

“Her name is Elphaba, my good people,” you smiled.

“Miss Elphaba! Miss Elphaba! You are safe here!”

Her hand reached for yours, fingers entwining tightly as a sense of relief washed over you and her. Some of the crowd had taken to handing various fruits to the monkeys, clearly delighted by them, too. You and Elphaba were shown to a rustic farmhouse and given food and shelter. It would suffice for a day or two. You had no idea of how fast the Guard might catch up, and you only hoped this wasn’t a trick. It would be quite irritating to wake up with a knife pressed to your throat. The cup of red mint tea cradled in your hands soothed your nerves.

A fire roared in the hearth, bathing the spacious room in an orange glow. Elphaba removed her hat and stripped off her black robe, leaving her in a simple, dark purple, sleeveless frock.

“Will you help me loosen my braid?” she asked, sitting in front of you.

“Of course,” you smiled, sitting your mug down and moving your fingers through her thick, black tresses to loosen the braid.

“I’m exhausted,” she sighed, leaning back against your chest.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your chin on her shoulder. “Me too. Let us try to get some rest,” you murmured, shifting so the two of you were lying down and facing each other. You gazed into her eyes, noting the hues of jade and olive, with flecks of dazzling seafoam around her inner iris. There were times when they appeared dark, bathed in amber and chestnuts. Elphaba was a peculiar being, unearthly and hauntingly beautiful.

The two of you intertwined, limbs furling until they almost became one. Her lips held a tinge of sweetness that you savored as her long nails pleasantly scraped down your back. Her hands slipped up your tattered shirt, her warmth spreading through you. You gazed into her eyes, noting the hues of jade and olive, with flecks of dazzling seafoam around her inner iris. There were times when they appeared dark, bathed in amber and chestnuts. Elphaba was a peculiar being, unearthly and hauntingly beautiful. It was hard not to fall under her spell.

Your forehead rested against her, allowing your eyes to close as you held Elphaba. It would be a new day tomorrow, and still, you were by her side. It was a small thing that you were beyond grateful for, and cherished the nights spent in her arms. You detested how she had been painted the villain and sought to spread the truth of the deceiving Wizard. If the Quadlings learned the truth, it would spread throughout the Land of Oz.

A few days passed, and Quadling Country continued to provide a safe haven. While the inhabitants were impressed by Elphaba’s sorcery and entertained by the winged monkeys, especially with Chistery’s attempts to speak, you made yourself valuable with other skills. Though Elphaba had taught you little spells, the townfolk enjoyed your trick of making a daisy rise from the pavement cracks or when you could summon a kaleidoscope of butterflies. It was fun to watch the monkeys fly after the multicolored insects. Apart from those limited feats, you were a gifted cook and a whiz with a needle and thread.

By the end of the week, it was time for you and Elphaba to move on, even though you had grown to love the Quadlings.

“We will spread your truth, Miss Elphaba.” You watched her face glow happily as she held the woman’s hands.

“I have a gift for you, Miss, since you cannot fly,” a young male smiled. He brought forth a beautiful dark black horse, its fur the same color as Elphaba’s rich raven hair.

Your eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude. “This is very kind of you.” You warmly hugged him, waving and calling out heartfelt goodbyes before departing with Elphaba and the monkeys.

Happiness was fleeting, was it not? Tears streamed down your face as Elphaba cradled it tenderly in her hands, her thumbs swiping away your tears.

“I will always love you,” she whispered before her lips captured yours in a deep kiss.

“Your name will forever be on my heart. Please be happy, my love,” you sniffled, holding her close.

The trap was set. The ruse worked, and all of Oz believed the Wicked Witch was dead when, in fact, she had fled with Fiyero by her side. You couldn’t begrudge him; love was an odd thing, and what you shared with Elphaba would never be forgotten or tarnished. You kept a lock of her ebony hair pinned to the inside of your dress; her scent lingered behind on your nose, and the warmth of her lips burned your own. Her hat had been left behind, a cherished possession you would never relinquish.

“She’s dead?” Glinda asked, her voice cracking as her shoes clipped against the castle floor.

You whirled around to face her. “I suppose you won.” It was imperative to keep this a secret, even from Glinda, even while knowing Elphaba had disappeared safely. Keep them safe; may their bones never break, and may they never die.

Her jaw dropped. “I was her friend! I was your friend! And that is all you can say to me?” Fury laced her lilting voice.

“You betrayed her! Made her the enemy to serve your own ambitions,” you snapped, fists balling at your side.

“And I regret that.” Truth strained in the word.

“Then help me make it right. Help me continue her legacy; what she wished to achieve can still be done,” you pleaded.

She swallowed hard, gripping the Grimmerie tightly.

“That’s what I thought.”

You stormed past her, stopping when she grabbed your shoulder.

“This is yours now. Protect it, and I wish you all the luck, my friend,” Glinda whispered, pressing the Grimmerie into your hands when you turned to face her.

You softened, glancing into her warm, doe eyes, and felt your anger melt away. “Thank you, my friend.”

Her lips were butterfly-soft against your cheek.

You tucked the Grimmerie safely into your leather bag and then mounted your horse, Zixi. You settled Elphaba’s hat on top of your head, your cape billowing behind you as Zixi galloped away. You cast your gaze to the sky while keeping a tight grip on the reins.

So if you care to find me, look to the western sky.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you rode toward the west with newfound hope pulsing through your chest and a kaleidoscope of colorful butterflies leading the way.

“I will never forget you, Elphaba Thropp,” you whispered, disappearing into the forest with a promise to fulfill.

#fics: wicked #sweetspicylyrics #elphaba x reader #elphaba fanfic #elphaba imagine #wicked fanfiction #elphaba thropp x reader #wicked elphaba #elphaba thropp #wicked imagine

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chocourse · 5 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)

➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.

➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love

: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3

➳ good omens masterlist

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO

As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.

You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.

“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.

Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.

When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food.

His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.

He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.

Bingo.

Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck.

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him.

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile.

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition.

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs.

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too.

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy.

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper.

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer.

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too.

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

#good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #poly ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens #good omens fluff #ineffable husbands #cross posted on ao3 #polyamory #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

Ok so I don’t know if your requests are open, but I’m going to drop one in case… 😅

A Joel Miller x Reader story where Joel and Ellie arrive to Jackson. Could it be a moment like where Ellie saw *possibly* Dina? They could make eye contact and maybe he’s interested in her and wants to know more? Something along those lines hehe.. You can totally add more whether it be spicy or fluff! :)

AN | Please this is just the softest idea. Plus - wing woman Ellie! 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It happened so fast that he almost didn’t realize that anything had happened.

He was trying to listen to Maria, really he was, but he found himself zoning out more than he wanted to. Admittedly it was a lot to take in all at once and he wasn’t sure what to think or where to look anymore. He hoped that Ellie would be able to catch him up later although he had his doubts; she seemed just as distracted. Well then - maybe things would be easy to pick up on.

But then it happened. He heard something about communes and vegetable gardens but when he looked ahead, time seemed to slow down and the voices around him were muffled and distant.

He saw you. It happened so fast that he must have imagined it. You caught his eye and offered him a sweet smile but as soon as he blinked, you were gone.

It must have been his imagination playing tricks on him. He was tired and in desperate need of a shower and nap; surely you were nothing more than a mirage.

“Joel?” he snapped back into attention, finding Tommy, Maria, and Ellie all watching him curiously. His young charge raised an eyebrow, "everything okay?"

"Fine," he huffed indignantly, waving her off before the group continued to walk on. Maria was in front, back to explaining everything in detail as he and Ellie fell behind. She nudged his arm, silently conveying her question to him. They'd gotten to the point where they could easily communicate without words, "just a moment of distraction. Nothin' to worry about."

"I can find out what her name is," Joel almost stopped in his tracks at her sudden comment. This girl was way too observant - it was a blessing and a curse. His felt his entire being flush with warmth as he opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, "you're even prettier when you blush!"

"I'm not - I'm not blushing," he hissed but he knew he was. His face felt like it was on fire, "Ellie."

"Fine," she held up her hands innocently putting on a sweet smile in an attempt to get him off her scent. She had a plan - she was already plotting on how to get the two of you to meet, "I won't say or do anything. I'll be quiet as a church mouse or whatever that old saying is."

"Good," despite his hesitation and suspicions, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug, "good."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ellie Williams was a liar. A damned, dirty liar. But it was all out of affection and care for the man that had become her father figure.

He took good care of her and was always looking out for her best interests so for once she was going to return the favor. The man had been through a lot. He deserved some happiness too.

But she had to work smart and be subtle, otherwise her plan would explode in her face.

The first step? Naturally, she had to find you and get your name. It should have been simple…but of course it wasn't.

Jackson wasn't small but it wasn't that big either. There were more people in the community than she had bargained for and finding you again seemed an entirely impossible challenge. She'd managed a few fleeting glances at you and that was all she had to go.

After a few days of looking she'd almost given up hope.

Until she saw you tending to a flock of loudly bawking chickens. Bingo.

She pretended to be fascinated by the chickens…although honestly she was amused by them, and came over to you.

"Look at all those chickens!" Despite her initial thought that she would remain calm and calculated, her excitement got the better of her.

"Look at all those chickens," you agreed as you smiled at her. It took her a moment to realize you were standing there and watching her until she made a small sound of acknowledgement.

"I'm Ellie," she could hear Joel in the back of her mind telling her to find her manners, "we just moved here."

"It's nice to officially meet you, Ellie," you offered her your name and held out your hand for her to shake, "welcome to Jackson."

"Thanks," she shook your hand gently and you could feel her watching you in the way that kids often did when they were trying to glean everything about you, "it's nice being here."

"It's always nice to have new people here," you grabbed a bucket of seed for the chickens and held it out to her, "Tommy's really excited to have his brother back."

"Joel!" she almost shouted as her eyes grew wide with embarrassment, "his name is Joel. He's my…Joel."

You laughed, a sound Ellie decided she liked and that Joel would like. You tossed some seed to the chicken and Ellie followed suit, watching amazed as the chickens started to peck away, "well, if either of you ever need anything or have any questions just let me know. I was new here too once and it can be a little overwhelming."

"Thank you," Ellie knew all about things becoming overwhelming. Everything had changed for her so quickly since she'd met Joel, "are you-"

But she was interrupted by the call of your name from the distance. She silently cursed Chad, or whatever his name was, for interrupting her little plan.

"I gotta go," you offered her an apologetic shrug, "see you around, Ellie! Don't be a stranger!"

Don't be a stranger. Oh, she would make sure of that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I know her name!” Ellie ran into the house, yelling, without even waiting to see if Joel was up. She found him in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face, “the girl. I know her name.”

“Ellie,” he sighed softly, but there was an affectionate bloom in his chest towards the girl, “I told you not to meddle.”

“You didn’t say that,” she sat down at the table and helped herself to some of the fresh orange. He gave her that look and she shrugged sheepishly, “not specifically in those words.”

“You’re trouble, kid,” he sighed, affectionate though tired. He was a tired dad, “I’ll entertain you for just a moment. What’s her name then?”

The young girl softly whispered your name and oh. He liked the sound of it. Even from the brief glimpse he caught of you, he thought it suited you perfectly. He repeated it, testing it out on his tongue and deciding that he liked it.

“Now you actually have to talk to her,” she was most pleased as Joel lightly scoffed at her, “you’re in love with her!”

Joel inhaled sharply and almost knocked the pan off the stove as he quickly turned around, “now just what are you talking about?”

“The look,” she shrugged lightly as if to say that it was all so obvious, “you had the look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look of love at first sight or whatever,” she was now proceeding to shove some freshly baked bread into her mouth, “I’ve seen enough old movies and read enough books to know.”

“Well you must know something I don’t because there was no love at first sight,” right? Right. His hands were on his hips as he sighed at her, “that’s something made up for entertainment.”

“Whatever you say,” she made kissy noises at him and he cursed under his breath, “when you get married you can thank me. Trust me Joel, you had that look on your face."

“I had no look on my face,” this was ridiculous. She was ridiculous, “now eat your breakfast and get ready for school.”

“Joel-”

“Don’t make me ground you,” he waved the spatula at her but both of them had happy looks on their faces. It had been a long time since he had gotten to say those words. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this. Ellie, on the other hand, had never really had someone that loved her as he did, that was a real parental figure. She liked it too, “do you want bacon and eggs and pancakes?”

“Yes please,” the two of them exchanged a look before breaking into soft smiles.

Yeah…this life was turning out to be pretty okay.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe there was some small part of Joel that hoped that once he had learned your name that he would somehow magically start to run into you in other places. Like that one bit of information would lead to much more.

Well, that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. It was like the universe was somehow trying to keep the two of you apart. Every time he arrived somewhere, you were leaving, or vice versa. Every time he spotted you in a crowd and made his way over, you managed to disappear. It was like a horrible game of cat and mouse.

Maybe he just had to accept that he wasn’t meant to know you. Even if he hated the idea of that.

But - somehow, magically or whatever - the day came when he was finally destined to meet you.

And he couldn’t have been less prepared.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was tending to his small flock of sheep, trying to clean out the dirt and muck out of their grazing area when he heard you. He was filthy; covered in sweat and dirt and probably smelling of shit. But there you were, pretty face and radiant smile waving happily at him.

But damn if that smile didn’t make him want to melt.

“Joel!” oh. He was in trouble; deep, deep trouble. He tossed his shovel down, swallowing thickly before exchanging a look with Gertrude (his favorite sheep but he’d never admit it, he didn’t want any of the others to get upset). She seemed to know what he was thinking and baa’ed at him before nudging her nose against his leg. He nodded before making his way over to you, trying to keep his walk calm and cool and not like he was overly excited.

“H-hey,” he nearly choked on the singular word as he reached you, separated only by the fence. If he smelled or anything, you didn’t seem to mind, not balking in the slightest when he said your name, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you held out your hand and the poor man stared at it - so dainty and delicate compared to his - before shaking it. You laughed softly, sensing the nerves rolling off him, but in truth, you were nervous too, “after all this time I finally get to meet the infamous Joel Miller. It felt like the day would never come.”

“Y-you’ve been wanting to meet me?” there was no way; you were like an angel and he was anything but.. How could you have any interest in anything to do with him?

“I have,” you confessed softly, “it seemed like every time I saw and wanted to say hi you were gone in the blink of an eye. I finally just broke down and asked Ellie where you were.”

“Me?” he repeated, pointing at himself and casting a look around as if to make sure you couldn’t possibly be talking about anyone else.

“Yes,” you laughed softly, and the sound went straight to his heart, “who else could I be talking about? Unless one of your sheep is also named Joel. Then I’d like to meet him too - actually I kind of just want to meet your sheep either way. They’re so cute!”

“Yeah?” his brain was so frazzled that somehow any coherent thought he had left seemed to have left his mind. You probably thought he was an idiot but you had some sort of magnetic pull that kept him firmly in your orbit. He didn’t want to leave it - to ever leave your presence.

“Of course,” you thought it was endearing to see how nervous he became. Truthfully, you were just as nervous but managed to hold it together a little more, “listen, I’ve gotta go but do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“Dinner…tonight? With you?” alright, he was going to throw himself off a cliff.

“Dinner tonight,” you confirmed, “my house is the one at the end of your straight - with the yellow shutters. See you at six?”

“Six, y-yeah, yes,” he finally gained back some of his confidence, “should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” you smiled sweetly, “and Ellie of course, if you’d like to invite her.”

“Sure,” yeah, he’d ask her but part of them hoped she’d say no. He loved her so much, but he really hoped she’d say no this one time, “see you later.”

“See you later, Joel,” and then you did the unthinkable. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. You gave him one last little smile before turning around to flounce away, “six o’clock, Miller!”

He felt like he was going to explode as he touched the spot on his cheek that had been blessed by your lips.

Maybe Ellie hadn’t been totally wrong on the love at first sight thing. He was definitely feeling something; something he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he loved it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You met her finally,” Ellie looked most pleased with herself as soon as Joel walked in the door, “you’re welcome.”

“How’d you know?” he couldn’t even pretend to be grumpy as he looked at her in earnest. She shrugged innocently before sliding off her chair and going over to hug him; he warmed up and hugged her back without hesitation.

“Your face,” she stated obviously, “it’s written all over your face. You look happy.”

“I met her,” he confirmed and Ellie squealed in delight. He couldn’t help but match her smile, “and she asked me - us - over for dinner.”

“Oh, you’re totally gonna marry her,” Joel opened and closed his mouth a few times, “but I’ll pass on dinner. I’m going to go over to Dina’s.”

“You knew she was going to ask, didn’t you?”

“Not explicitly,” Ellie shrugged, “but I had a feeling. So….you can go and have your dinner with your love.”

“Ellie,” no malice, all affection.

“You’ll be thanking me for this in a few years,” she insisted, tugging on her sweater and reaching for a backpack, “and I won’t mind if I get a brother or sister then either. Maybe both, who knows!”

“Ellie…” his face was bright red by now.

“Love you!” she threw her arms around him quickly before running towards the door, “see you later - make good choices!”

“Kid…” he watched as she ran out the door and almost slammed it behind her in haste.

He didn’t even know what to say. Maybe nothing needed to be said.

All he knew was that for the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to the future.

One that involved you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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mossy-morg · 7 months ago

Text

MY PARENTS GOT ME AND MY 24 YEAR OLD SIS TICKETS TO BLUEYS BIG PLAY

It's June

ya know what that means? Not only is today kids day in Poland so I have a festival-lile event at school but it's also Pride month!

This means I have to try make a Qinter piece. Which is also a problem because I've been struggling with this one headcannon and all three sides of my brainn want something else. Is Qibli FtM trans, Winter FtM trans or do I fuck it and make both FtM trans

Y'all enjoy polish kids day and the first day of gay month while I think.

Also my dad did ground me for four days(today is one of them) so I might not post too frequently. Also that means I'm writing this even thoI'm not meant to. I'm roaming my ass for y'all

#wof #wings of fire #pride #trans pride #transmasc dragons #pride month #kids day #bluey #bluey bandit #bluey heeler #bluey bingo #bluey chilli #Bluey's big play

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 years ago

Note

Bucky and presumed dead 🔥🔥🔥 you can chose if he thinks y/n is dead or y/n thinks he’s dead

You already know what I had to go with ahah. This was fun! 💗

Presumed Dead (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst, language, fluff, some fighting, mentions of blood and injuries

part one | part two (each can be read individually)

“Sergeant Barnes, the Mountain Base Mission Jet just arrived in Hangar 3.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the room and Bucky was quick to push himself off the sofa and head towards the door. He was excited to see his teammates again. You, Steve, Natasha, and Clint had been sent out to raid a Hydra Base hidden in an Alaskan mountain eight days ago. And even though Bucky had missed you a lot these past days, he knew that it was part of your job. Just as it was part of Bucky's. You occasionally checked in with each other every other day when missions lasted that long, but when things got difficult, it was common for either of you to stop communicating to focus on the mission. And that was okay. Of course, Bucky still worried about you and his friends, but he also knew that each and every member of the mission team was a capable agent that knew how to handle difficult situations.

It had happened this time as well. The last time you had contacted Bucky was about three days ago. Which was why he was all the more excited to finally hold you in his arms again.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the Quinjet Hangar. The hatch had not been opened yet, as the jet was hooked onto fuel and checked by the crew. Bucky stood by the metal reiling leading up to it with a big smile on his face and soon, the team appeared one after the other. First Clint, who was supported by Natasha as he limbed across the bridge. They were both covered in soot and blood. And as they weakly smiled when passing Bucky, his heart sank, smile fading slightly as well. He nodded in their direction.

Then Steve appeared with an equally devastated look on his face. But Bucky was still hopeful. He had yet to see you, and he knew your presence would light that positive fire within him like it always did. Steve hugged Bucky before a couple agents crowded him with paperwork and signatures.

“How’ve you been, pal?”

“Oh, you know... bored. Stark covered me in paperwork.”

Steve just hummed in response and Bucky peaked behind him to the open jet. Where were you? He was nervous, he always was. But this time, it felt different. And when Bucky's eyes wandered from the jet back to Steve who was still signing forms, uneasiness pooled in his stomach.

“Where’s my girl? She already inside?”

That’s when Steve excused the agents and pulled Bucky aside. His hand was still lingering on his arm when he spoke again. “She’s not here.”

“What? Why?”

“We needed to regroup. We’ll go back to get her in an hour.” Steve’s eyes were drilling into Bucky’s when he said it. Bucky swallowed thickly. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Why hadn’t you come with them in the first place?

Steve nodded sternly once and then he stepped aside and made his way to the medical wing. Bucky followed him hastily. There were still too many questions swarming his brain.

“An hour? It’s freezing up there!” He stumbled behind the blonde until he finally caught up to him. Goddamn it, you hated the cold. Bucky despised the feeling of panic surging up his spine. He pictured you hurt and alone in the snow - lost and thinking that your team neglected you, which they had!

“We had complications. It was the only plausible move.” He pushed past the double doors and into the room Clint was being treated in.

“Complications? What complications?”

“They knew we were coming. A bomb detonated when we pulled the files from their servers. Y/N was hurt. We barely made it out of the base,” Natasha spoke up when Bucky’s eyes searched the room in a panic.

“Then why didn’t you bring her home?” His voice was shaken but he willed himself to calm down. There must have been a rational explanation for your not being here. Steve didn’t just leave people behind. Not unless...

“Buck..,” Steve reasoned, but it brought an uneasy tension into the room. The way they were all looking at him - looking at each other. It was dead silent. Clint pushed a nurse away when she approached him and Bucky knew something was very very wrong. “The explosion caused an avalanche that separated us. We looked for four hours, but we couldn’t keep going without putting the rest of the team in danger.”

Bucky clenched his jaw in the small pause Steve made. “Her wounds were fatal. She most likely didn’t make it… We’re going back to recover her body.”

Everything muted when Steve’s little speech was over, and Bucky just stared ahead. You weren’t dead. You couldn’t be. You were tough. You didn’t just die on a stupid mission. Not when Bucky had so many memories to make with you still.

“No...” He whispered sorely, the lump in his throat growing as he watched the faces in the room sadden around him. “You just didn’t search properly. Maybe she hid away. She’s smart. She thinks tactical.”

“I told you we will fly back in 55 minutes. ETA 1300. If she is alive, we will find her.” If she’s alive.

Bucky’s heart was racing. He felt it pulsing in his neck, along with a strong urge to punch a hole in the nearest thing around. “Why are you all so calm?! 55 minutes is too long! The damn flight there is too long!”

“Bucky-” Steve laid a hand on his shoulder.

But Bucky whipped around with vigor, stern eyes staring down his friend. “She’s not dead, Steve.”

They held eye contact for a solid minute, but the urge to hurry passed over Bucky again. You didn’t have time. Steve was staring at him with those stupid captain eyes. Those might have worked on others but not Bucky. Not him, he had always respected him - he just wanted a little of that back now. But Steve was too stubborn, and Bucky couldn’t grasp why.

“I can’t believe this.” Bucky shook his head and then turned to suit up. He would definitely not wait 55 damn minutes.

-❁-

Surprisingly, Steve had gotten the Jet ready when Bucky arrived at the Hangar in his suit, along with a change of clothes for you and some other necessities he thought he’d need. And when the two friends started their journey to Alaska, it was dead silent in the aircraft. The only noises were the initial communication with the compound and the constant whirring of the quinjet.

They were flying on autopilot now, sitting in their seats, keeping quiet as if it were a contest. Bucky actually had worrying thoughts about you that would occupy his brain for the remaining hours of the flight. He had to keep himself from crying when he packed up some clothes for you earlier and, to be honest, it wasn’t easier now. He hated that he didn’t know where you were, or what you were doing - how you were doing, most importantly. And he also couldn’t believe Steve would just leave you behind like that. Because Bucky knew for sure that his best friend was just as protective of you as he was himself... at least he thought so.

Steve watched him from across the room, his hands folded in his lap, a sorrowful look painting his features. And if Bucky weren’t so angry at him, he would have comforted the poor fella in front of him. But what he had done was unforgivable. He had left his girl to die.

“What?” The brunette spat after another thirty minutes. God, the time was passing in slow motion.

“I just want to say I’m sorry.” Steve looked up. “I know you’re angry and worried - I would be too - but you also need to understand that I have to think about the whole team in these situations. She would have wanted me to keep the others safe.”

“Are you kidding me right now? Why are you talking as if she’s already gone?!”

“Because she-” But Steve stopped abruptly, his mouth shutting, jaw clenching. The silence took back over and it was unbearable this time. The worrying, the anger, the fear - it was all too much.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouted as he buried his head in his hands, body folding over. The tears were brimming in his eyes, and his breath was shaky. “I can’t do this, Steve. I can’t lose her. She’s my- I can’t lose her, Steve...” By the end, it was only a whisper. One that held the most painfully truthful words he’d ever said. And when the first tear fell between his legs to the ground, Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her, pal. We will...”

-❁-

Icy winds were whipping in their faces as the two super soldiers trekked over the mountain. They had already swept the place the bomb went off at, just to find the site was impassable. A little down the hill was where the debris had settled and beyond another elevation, was the place Natasha had last seen you.

Bucky was cold and drenched, but he wouldn’t stop searching until he found you. He had sworn himself that and he had made Steve swear on it too. There was no way he would leave this mountain without you, this much was clear. Whether he would die on the journey there was yet to be discovered.

They passed another ice plane before Bucky finally stopped. Steve caught up to him and together they took in the new territory before them. It was hopeless, daylight was fading but Bucky wouldn’t relent. Not when your safety was on the line. Their view was obstructed by the grey sky and stormy clouds, and the high altitude made it hard to catch enough oxygen. Bucky swept the snow-covered landscape a second time. His eyes wandered over a rock to the valley.

“Bucky!” A fist met his shoulder and then pointed ahead into the snow. And upon further inspection, Bucky caught a spot of deep red disrupting the harsh white.

He surged forward, stumbling down parts of the mountain with the newfound energy this sliver of hope it had given him. And when the men finally arrived, the big spot had already been covered by a thin layer of new snow. Blood.

“She went this way,” Bucky shouted over the wind as he trailed the growing accumulation of blood along the hillside.

It took another hour of stomping through the deep snow until Bucky and Steve finally came along a caved-in rock deeper in the mountain. Here, where the snowfall wasn’t as heavy, the blood was more visible. Bucky swallowed thickly before moving inside. He wasn’t prepared for finding your dead body - he couldn’t possibly. Because up until this point, he could still pretend you were alive. If he would find you now... there was no denying the worst outcome he could have possibly imagined.

For the umpteenth time, Bucky felt his best friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder. But this time, it gave him the strength to finally move forward. Together, they went inside and followed the narrow gap between the rocks, their board shoulders barely fitting between the stones, But there was no way they would turn back now. They were close, Bucky knew it.

When the cave opened up again, Bucky immediately called your name. The echoes bounced back strikingly loud in the opening, but nothing else reached his ears. He tried again, and again, each time moving deeper inside, his hand guiding him along the walls of the dark place and then, suddenly, his feet hit something soft - softer than stone.

He leaned down, his hands immediately feeling up a body he was all too familiar with. But this time, cold and lifeless. A little clicking went through the cave and Steve’s flashlight turned on.

“Doll, thank god!” Bucky shook your frame. As if in trance, he felt your weekend pulse. He moved you, called your name, anything to get you to wake up. But your face looked lifeless and cold, your suit covered in blood and drenched in ice-cold water.

A pained moan left your lips, suddenly, weak and quiet, but definitely there. And Bucky felt his heart start beating for the first time since he set foot on Alaskan soil.

“Oh my god, Angel. You’re safe now. I promise you’re safe. Thank god!” Tears streamed down his cheeks when he turned to his friend again.

“Steve, help me. Help me get her out.”

Together, the friends carried your body outside into the biting cold, over ice and snow, hills and debris until they finally reached the quinjet. And when Steve started the aircraft, Bucky cradled you tightly in his arms and rocked you, while he tried to warm you as best as he could. He had changed you out of the wet tactical suit and tended to your wounds as well as possible. His hands never left your body. Not when he changed into dry clothes, not when he got you blankets, not when your beautiful eyes finally opened and met his.

“I knew you would make it, Angel. You’re a fighter. I’m so glad you’re alive.” He whispered to your temple after pressing hundreds of tiny kisses to your skin.

He would never let you go again. Not now, not ever.

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ruanbaijie · 1 year ago

Text

CHENG YI + 💋 cheng yi on variety [2/?] @asiandramanet jan-feb creator bingo board ⎈ free choice full translation below the cut

dumping this here in case the subtitles were too tricky to follow please watch the actual video (18:21) with sound on and all it takes me out all the damn time

[1] Cheng Yi’s cards: Ultraman who went on a blind date and got stung by a bee and got sausage lips Cai Wenjing: (in terrible Cantonese accent) A man and a woman - what do their parents arrange for them to do together?

[2] CY: processing CWJ: When two people meet for the first time, a man and a woman He Jiong the host: already dying

[3] CY: still processing CWJ: If they get together, they are lovers HJ: still dying

[4] CY: (itCa) Sei… Sei… Sei… CWJ: anticipation CY: (itCa) How many characters are there?

[5] CWJ: (itCa) Two characters! CY: (itCa) Lovers. CWJ: (itCa) The step they have to take before becoming lovers

[6] CY: (itCa and with absolute fucking confidence) Friends! CWJ: literally hanging on by a thread at this point (itCa) They started as friends HJ: (in Mandarin) A verb. They go to a place to do what?

[7] CY: PROCESSING aha! (itCa and still with absolute fucking confidence) A park! CWJ: (itCa) Ok let’s not talk about that anymore HJ: cackling in absolute sadistic glee CWJ: (itCa) There’s a small kind of animal in the garden

[8] CWJ: (itCa) Like that. It’s a… Its body is like what you’re wearing. It’s yellow. Yellow, black, black, and it has a pair of wings

[9] CY: got it! (itCa and with the most fucking confidence known to mankind) Cow! (lit: yellow cow) CWJ: (itCa) There’s a tiny bug CY: still processing (itCa) Little yellow bug

[10] HJ: spits CWJ: (itCa) Not a little yellow bug. There’s a bug that might sting you and you will swell up CY: (itCa) Bee! HJ: (iM) That’s right! There’s progress, friends! “Bee.” There’s progress!

[11] Tan Jianci: completely enjoying this circus CY: secretly pleased CWJ: (itCa) Then what will the bee do to you? CY: (itCa) Sting me HJ: (iM) Ah that’s right, that’s right, that’s right

[12] CWJ: (itCa) It stings your mouth–oh no, no! Game rule: can’t say the character that appears on the card CWJ: (itCa) This area will… ooOOOOOoooo Show effects: kissing sounds CY: (itCa) A bee stings my mouth du du du

[13] TJC: having the absolute fucking time of his life HJ: (iM) Yes, yes, yes, what do you call lips that go “du du du”? CY: (itCa) Du du lips. Bee du du lips

[14] CY: rapid fire beings (itCa) Bee sausage. Bun! I think I got it (itCa) Bee sausage ah! Oh! A bee stings the lips of a sausage?

[15] HJ: what the fuck is going on CWJ: what the fuck is going on x2 (itCa) Bee… gives up TJC: (iM) The lips of a sausage?!

[16] HJ: (iM) Your lips, your lips CY: (itCa) Oh! A bee stings the lips of a sausage and causes me to have du du lips? CWJ: K.O.

[17] Wang Hedi: losing his shit CWJ: (itCa) Then you will look very sexy lor! CY: embarrassed send help

[18] CY: (itCa) It’s too difficult, let’s change to another one CWJ: (itCa) We’ll guess this (card in his left hand). This is easy to guess. Pew pew pew! Pew pew pew! CY: (itCa) Ultraman! HJ: (iM) That’s right! Good!

[19] HJ: (iM) Now we’re just missing a verb. The verb in the front CWJ: (itCa) Just missing a word. Your daddy and mummy tell you to go and meet a girl today. With me… what do you call this action?

[20] CY: (itCa) Ultraman’s action? CWJ: (itCa) Not Ultraman!!!!!! HJ: dies in background CWJ: (itCa) Nothing to do with Ultraman anymore!!!!!! Yang Di: Aaahhhhhhh!!!!!! WHD: SHOOK

[21] TJC: (iM) Oh my god! I can watch a whole season of them playing this! CY: god save me CWJ: (itCa) There’s no more Ultraman now!

[22] TJC: can’t even sit in his fucking seat anymore CWJ: (itCa) Now it’s me and you. Then Daddy and Mummy tell me you are a handsome boy, that you are going to be my boyfriend CY: (itCa) Date? HJ: (iM) Before a date

[23] HJ: (iM) The first date CY: (itCa) Strangers? eyes sparkling with hope HJ: (iM) AhhHH yes–yes… The two strangers go to the park for a first date that was arrange by their parents. That’s called… CWJ: anticipation TJC: does he finally get it

[24] Show effects: tense piano music CY: (itCa and once more with ABSOLUTE fucking confidence) Park. HJ: K.O. of the century

[25] HJ: (iM) Can we get Cheng Yi to be a regular? Just to play this CY: SHY TJC: in proper Cantonese The second word is… Show effects: kissing sounds

[26] CY: (itCa) Kissing ah? They’re meeting for the first time and they’re already kissing ah? TJC, WHD: ABSOLUTELY FUCKING GONE HJ: choking goose INTENSIFIES

[27] CY: SHY (iM) I’m wrong, I… HJ: (iM) Blind date YD: (iM) Blind date! Blind date!

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

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predator/prey with Cassian?

Thrill of the Chase (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Predator/Prey

(Okay I’m not gonna lie I’m a Cassian girly through and through and I am SO happy seeing all this love for him. I hope you guys enjoy this because it was hella fun to write! Also this prompt got asked for a lot with different characters so don't think I forgot you! I see you all!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Predator/Prey, Biting, Rough sex, Slight breeding kink lol I couldn’t help myself

The summer air was warm if not a little stifling as you raced through the forest's edge that surrounded your and Cassian’s home. All you had on was a thin slip, the straps sliding down your shoulders while your bare feet sunk slightly into the ground with each step.

You could hear your heart racing in your ears as you dared a look back, only seeing the inky black of the night staring back at you. Cassian had started this entire game when the two of you played hide and seek in the house, starting off as an innocent game until it took longer than anticipated to find you.

Each footstep you heard, each room he entered, had your stomach in knots while also causing you to get excited the closer he got. It was almost a primal reaction, the way your pussy was throbbing, especially when he had yanked open the door and found you.

He had stood above you, wings outstretched, and his smile feral and you felt a thrill of fear and arousal shock your entire body. Before you could fully think your decision through you bolted past him and out the back door. The chase was on.

Your feet dug into the dirt as you stopped suddenly and hid underneath a small bush. You did your best to control your breathing as you desperately searched for any sign of him, your hands shaking as you heard nothing but silence.

Until two large hands wrapped around your ankles and yanked you out into the open air.

“No!” You screamed, fingernails digging into the soil of the earth as you were suddenly flipped onto your back with Cassian looming above you. He was shirtless, a sheen of sweat covering his body as he pinned you underneath him.

“Did you really think you could run from me, princess?” He taunted, holding your hands together with one hand while the other ripped your slip completely off your body. “Did you think I wouldn’t come collect what’s mine?”

“Please…” You begged, not sure if it was for him to release you or to touch you. Cassian grinned and clicked his tongue, dark curls hanging from his head as he used his free hand to collect the juices that were pooling in your sex.

“Gods, you’re dripping,” He groaned, thrusting two fingers into you sloppily for a few moments before pulling them out and shoving them against your lips until you opened for him. “Taste yourself, princess. Taste how wet you are.”

You almost gagged when he pushed them all the way back into your throat, tasting your excitement and stroking his fingers with your tongue to tease him. Cassian bared his teeth and pulled his fingers out, shoving his pants halfway down his legs before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Stay still for me.” He purrs, shoving your legs open with his knee before filling you up with one thrust. You immediately arch upwards, the fullness making you cry out as he sets a brutal pace. “Fuck, so fucking good.”

The sounds he was pulling out of you were guttaral as you clung onto him for dear life, your legs haphazardly wrapped around him so he could go deeper. Cassian buried his face into your neck as he rutted into you like a beast in heat, his low growls and moans making you even wetter.

It felt like your entire body was on fire as you got pounded into the ground. You were able to wiggle one hand free from his grip and start to run it over the tips of his wings, enjoying the way he gave a full-body shudder from the contact.

“You’re such a little tease.” He smirked, mouthing at your neck. “Running from me, getting me all riled up, and now touching me like this? And you’re taking me so well.”

“Only for you.” You whimper, your tits bouncing from how hard he was fucking you. “I’m so close, Cass, please!”

“You’re so cute when you beg for my cum.” He cooed. “That’s what you want right? Do you want me to fill you up until you’re bursting?”

“Yes!” You sob, your release only seconds away as he grunts.

“Then take it, princess. Don’t waste a single drop.”

Cassian bites the junction of your shoulder and neck until the tangy taste of copper fills his mouth. The pain sends you over the edge and you clench around him, your body going rigid as you milk him for several minutes. He follows along with you, his balls tightening before releasing all of his seed. You can feel it coat your walls and it almost sends you into a second orgasm.

By the end of it both are you panting heavily, covered in dirt and bites, and reveling in one of the best fucks of your life.

“I think I want you to chase me more often.” You sigh, cupping his face as he smiles.

“I think I want to chase you for the rest of my life, princess.”

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar reader smut #acotar smut #acotar imagine #cassian x reader smut #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x reader acotar #cassian x reader acotar smut #reader acotar #acotar smut reader #acotar bingo #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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