Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They're not mine I just use them from time to time and promise to give them back in perfect working order...eventually ;)
Season/Spoiler info: Season 10, spoilers for Hathor, Meridian, Origin, The Shroud.
Author's notes: This was a hard fic to write. I've never been one for non-con, but this scene just screamed for something more. quarryquest is the complete inspiration for this fic, she and I conversed the entire time I was writing it, and in fact it was she who planted the plot bunny in my head, and helped me greatly with the title. This fic is set during the flashback in The Shroud where Adria turns Daniel into a prior.
Being turned into a prior felt like going through an intergalactic car wash. All the dirt of Daniel Jackson all his pain, fears, stripped from him by a blinding white light. An unnatural force, separating him from his past, his actions. A numb feeling washed over him, a half life. And he truly sees how one could fall so easily into this. How he could just slip into the lies he has lived upon these last few weeks and see one ounce of good in the woman sitting before him.
Adria raises her hand to touch his face, and Daniel can feel her lightly cup his marred skin. Her fingertips lightly trace the scars, tokens of worship and servitude. He sits patiently, letting her gaze wash over what she has made him. And when she pushes him back against the cushions, he lets her. Daniel Jackson is hidden behind Merlin’s shield; this is Daniel’s body, willing to be led.
She leans over him now, pinning his shoulders with her arms. He lets his legs fall naturally to the sides, they’re almost completely numb from sitting and meditation, but Adria has no use for them right now, so neither does he. She straddles his waist, and with one hand, traces the Ori symbol on his uniform, burning the symbol into his chest, right above his heart. Daniel can’t close his eyes, so he just lies there and watches her. Adria then opens the front of his jacket, and the cool air rushes along his chest, tightening his nipples and causing gooseflesh to rise. She touches him, surveying all that is hers, before bending forward to reach for a bottle behind him. Her velvet dress brushes his chest and Daniel cannot help but shiver as the material pulls against his skin.
A small part of him think he should push her off, get away from the warm body pressed against him. He should hate that it feels this good, but he doesn’t. Hate that it’s happening again, but he won’t. She is fire, life, and he has been cold for so long. All the promises of the Ori, ascension, they’re so tempting and to find himself on the path is so odd. Almost cruel in a way to have ascension thrown back in his face like this. To have his faith caged.
But Daniel wants this for not only Adria, but for himself. A chance to revel in this act. The power.
Adria pulls back, settling atop him once more. She opens the bottle and pours oil onto his chest. It’s hard to keep quiet this time, and Daniel squirms as the liquid runs along his bare skin. Her hands are on him once again, spreading the oil into muscles, taught with the will to stay put. Her fingernails lightly scratch over his newly formed scars, sending little sparks of pain and sensation right to his groin. He forces himself not to react. He is not bound physically, but he knows that at this moment he is hers to enjoy.
She finishes rubbing the oil into Daniel’s skin and reaches for one of the candles that surround them. Daniel’s mind flashes from fire, the burning flame, to phallus and its embedded position in developed culture, a tool for domination and submission, and comes back to rest on Adria’s grip around it’s smooth surface. She smiles softly at him, keeping her eyes locked on his as she tips the candle, allowing the hot wax to fall on Daniel’s torso.
He can’t not react this time, hissing between his teeth as he arches forward. Wanting the pain. Adria takes this distraction to shimmy down to his thighs, and open his pants. She manages to get them far enough down to free Daniel, taking him in her small hands and watches him harden obediently.
Daniel keeps his breathing steady as she continues to run her hands over him, reaching down to softy scratch his balls while jerking him off, not loosing eye contact for a second. This body, this mutilated body, pale and marred with her marks, her touch is submitted, owned. His reactions are hers.
He can feel it building up inside him and he is helpless to escape it. Adria increases her tempo, rubbing the glans, circling the head with her thumb, spreading pre-cum around for more lubrication as she forces his orgasm from him. The flames burn inside, and out, ripping him apart as Daniel lies there panting while Adria consumes him. The fires of Celestis burn hot on the back of his eyelids as his head is thrown back in release.
His limbs are heavy, as if bolted to the floor. The cushions are haphazard; the contrast between their softness and the hard floor is one of the first things Daniel notices as feeling slowly begins to return to his over stimulated body. Adria is rising, keeping his eyes locked on her form as she steps away from him to the door, he follows her for a long as possible before she leaves and he is alone once again.
Daniel doesn’t move for some time. His broken body open and defenceless is bathed only in candlelight and rumpled fabric. Daniel Jackson sits in the corner, letting Merlin dance with his devil.
