#I want to hear my muscles flex as the pull my bones to where I tell them to go

[scurvioli]

I wish the world was quieter so I could hear my internal organs and mechanisms work

[shalomniscient]

BAD ROMANCE || acheron x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

I WANT YOUR LOVE AND ALL YOUR LOVER'S REVENGE, YOU AND ME COULD WRITE A BAD ROMANCE !

cw. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, snuff (but not permanently), graphic descriptions of violence, gore, violent sex, masochism on part of reader, reader is honestly just fucking crazy, no lube, creampie

notes. hyv was insane for that animated short frfr also the song for this fic is obviously bad romance but the cover by halestorm specifically. check it out, it slaps !!

VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE, PLEASE READ !! ↳ This work contains dark content, to the point where I must tag this as DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. I cannot stress this enough. ↳ There will be graphic depictions of gore and violence, and violence during sex. Please check and heed the content warnings. ↳ You are responsible for the content you consume.

Acheron first encounters you on a desolate planet bereft of life. You stand alone amidst withered trees and lifeless stumps, your feet bare upon grey, scorched earth. You don't react when the embers land upon your skin. Your gaze is cast to the melancholy sky as you hum to yourself, rocking back and forth on your heels. You don't even turn to her when you speak.

"We finally meet, oh harbinger of death," you hum, your tone light and airy, unbefitting this dead space. "I've been waiting for a while."

Acheron blinks, slowly, taking you in. There's something about you that's distinctly... similar, in a way. You are more than you seem. Something blessed—or perhaps, cursed—by a higher being.

"You know me?" she asks, taking a step towards you, and you finally turn to face her. Your eyes give her pause—fathomlessly deep and dark. Your sclera are pitch black, and your irises the colour of blood. An enigmatic smile stretches across your features as she stares.

"Of course," you say. "How could I not, when the voices of those you have slaughtered cry out so desperately for salvation?"

Acheron's eyes narrow. "What are you?"

Her question pulls a giggle from you. What are you, not who are you. She has a suspicion already, but she wants to hear it from you, first. You reach out towards her, caressing her pale cheek with your hand—were this any other situation, Acheron might even consider it lovely, free from scars or blemishes.

"The same as you," you whisper, your eyes half-lidded in a way that has Acheron's grip curling around the hilt of her sword. "My fellow Emanator."

Her hand shoots out to grip your wrist, pulling your hand away from her face. She squeezes, muscles in her arm flexing, and she swears she hears your bones creak. But you remain unfazed, smiling almost dreamily at her.

"Are you here to stop me?" she growls. Just a little more pressure, and she'd snap your pretty wrist like a twig.

"No," you say simply. "I care not for your mission."

"Then why have you sought me out?"

You hum, and with your free hand, trail a finger down her chest. The arm caught in Acheron's grip is starting to bruise. "Because there is something I want from you."

"And what might that be?"

You beam at her, and lean in, close enough to brush your lips against hers. It makes Acheron jolt, and distantly she can hear your wrist shatter, but the intensity of you so close demands all her attention. You speak your desire against her lips like a kiss.

"Death."

After that incident, you follow her around, much like a lost cat. Your mangled wrist righted itself within seconds, and Acheron pieced together whose Emanator you are.

Yaoshi, the Abundance.

She has heard about the favored of the Abundance, but has never encountered one—until you, of course. As she braces herself over you, your hands pinned to the floor of a dead duke's mansion, she wonders if your other Emanators are as odd as you are. Or as hungry for death.

She doesn't remember how many times she's killed you by now. How many times she's unsheathed that blade of hers and carved it through your soft flesh until all that remains of you are mangled pieces on the ground. But she does remember sitting by your side, or what's left of it, and watching as your flesh knits back together, cells multiplying and dividing and sowing sinew and muscle until you finally come back from whatever end you experienced ever so briefly, your chest jerking up as it floods with air. And despite herself, she's starting to enjoy it. Such a pretty little plaything you make, one she hasn't been able to break no matter how much she's tried.

You always look for her first when you return. And you always ask her for more.

Like now, as she has you flat on the floor, and you look up at her with the hungriest eyes she's ever seen. You had watched, delighted, as she ripped and tore apart that infernal duke, giggling all the while as his 'children' scattered to the winds. And once she was done you had pounced on her, wild and almost feral, throwing your arms around her neck and whispering into her ear, "me next."

She won't remember doing this, but right now it's difficult to think beyond the drumbeat of her pulse in her ears. She can hear yours, too. It's so fucking loud. She wonders what your heart looks like, pulsing away in your chest. She wonders what it'll do when she rips it from your ribcage and holds it in her hand.

She crashes her lips against yours like she wants to devour you. You groan into the kiss, if that's even what it can be called. Acheron's teeth scrape your lower lip then bite, drawing blood, and the taste of your blood on her tongue makes a shiver course down her spine. Your blood has a unique taste—metallic, certainly, but with a hint of sweetness kind of like peaches. She fucking loves it. You wrap your legs around her waist and grind up into her pelvis, against the growing bulge there. Acheron growls, manhandling your wrists above your head to grip them with one hand so the other can hold your hips still.

She trails her kisses lower, down your jaw and to your neck. She drags the edges of her canines against your jugular and you shiver in anticipation. She can feel your pulse against her lips, against her tongue, thump-thump-thump, and she resists the urge to sink her teeth into the artery and let the crimson liquid spill into her mouth. Instead she keeps going, lower and lower, until she reaches the collar of your clothing.

With one swift movement she tears the fabric apart, and it falls into tattered pieces around you. You jerk as the warmth of the surroundings settles on your bare skin, though Acheron offers you no reprieve. She scratches her free hand down the side of your ribs, drawing red lines as she goes. Her lips descend on your nipples, already stiff as she licks and sucks one before moving to the next. Everywhere her lips touch, dark marks bloom like brutal flowers on your skin.

You whine out her name softly, arching your back, and Acheron looks up the length of your body with electric, half-lidded eyes. Your expression is twisted into one of pure pleasure—the pain had always been something you loved, something you craved. And Acheron is all too eager to give it to you.

She moves back up, and uses her free hand to undo the buckles of her shorts. They’re almost constrictingly tight now, and she fumbles with the zipper until it comes loose and her aching cock springs free. She hears you make a pretty, breathy noise, and sneers down at you. Her hand slips down your body to your core, and her cock twitches when she finds that you’re fucking dripping.

“Getting off being used like this?” she hisses, dragging her finger through your drenched folds. “Dirty girl.”

“Please,” you moan, canting your hips into her touch. Acheron withdraws her fingers at that, then slaps your still-clothed pussy. You jolt and whine in surprise, those unnatural eyes of yours widening. “Wh—“

“I’ll do what I want to you,” she snarls, gripping your calves and manhandling your thighs open. She pulls you forward until her cock brushes along the soaked fabric of your panties. Her tip catches on your clit and you moan despite the dulled sensation. Then, her fingers hook into your underwear and tug them to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to her.

“So shut up and just take it,” she growls, before shoving her entire length into you with one smooth thrust.

You scream in both pain and pleasure as Acheron splits you open on her thick cock. She has both her hands beneath your knees, holding your legs wide open as she ruts into your clenching cunt, hardly giving you time to adjust. She’s vicious with it, each snap of her hips making the sound of flesh against flesh ring throughout the abandoned mansion alongside your shrill cries of ecstasy. Your fingers claw at the floor until they bleed, drawing red lines on the black marble.

Acheron grunts as she feels your pussy squeeze her—even here, balls-deep in your tight pussy she can feel your incessant heartbeat pulsing away. She feels like she can drown in it, in that rhythmic pitter-patter of your heart as it races like some sort of prey animal.

Yes, that’s what this all feels like—a hunt. She as the wolf, you as the rabbit. She the hunter, you the hunted.

It’s a god damn fucking frenzy. Lust and bloodlust fog her mind. Her hair is turning white. She fucks you into the floor, shifting her position so that gravity helps with each thrust she makes. She practically folds your lower half in ways that would snap a regular human, but only serves to deliriously excite you. Aeons, you’re fucking crazy, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel it too.

But the end of the hunt approaches. She feels you tightening around her, and you scream out her name with each downward drive of her hips. Your heartbeat thunders in her ears now, and she matches her thrusts with each beat, sending slick flying from your gushing cunt and her own leaking cock. She leans up, nosing beneath your jaw, right where your pulse thrums.

But here’s a thing about hunts—there’s only one way they end. So her teeth sink into your neck, the taste of iron and peaches spills onto her tongue, and the world goes white as she reaches her peak.

She’s always never felt more alive than during the moment of the kill.

When she comes to again, she’s kneeling on the floor and there’s blood on her lips and chin, spilling down her neck and onto her chest. She clicks her tongue and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. Beyond that, her clothes are in fine condition, as if nothing ever happened. And maybe she might have believed so, were it not for one thing:

It’s quiet.

That pounding drumbeat is gone, replaced by calm silence. And that’s when she remembers—you’re still here. She looks down, and there you lie, motionless in a pool of crimson liquid, the flesh of your neck torn asunder, exposing the white of your bones and the attaching tendons and sinew.

Your face is frozen in an expression of bliss, eyes half-lidded and lips curled into a half-smile. Idly, Acheron thinks it’s a rather pretty look on you.

(You come back a few minutes later, chest heaving and eyes shooting open. The scarlet halo of blood surrounding your head on the floor makes you look like a bleeding saint.

And then you smile at her, sickly sweet, and your heart starts up again, slowly restarting the cycle once more.

Acheron can’t fucking wait.)

[moonshynecybin]

16 + rosquez + extra smooches if its in the canon timeline

16. accidental i love yous during sex.

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dante... okay so these guys are such crazy asses who hate vulnerability that i think the only way this would happen is through them accidentally psychically BEAMING i love you at the other via eye contact during insane sex and the other somehow recieving that message. telepaths only. like they are PR merchants they love to choose their words if this is post-break up it will nottttt be an accident..... and i thought about doing pre-sepang but that made me SAD ! anyways this beat my ass. bon apetit

“I love, ah, you are just—“ Vale says as Marc sinks down on him, palms braced on the hot center of his chest. “Christ, the way you take it.”

Marc hitches himself a little further onto Vale’s dick, taking a breath in, and letting it out slowly. He’s all the way in, now. He closes his eyes. They haven't done this —Marc on top– since before everything. He needs a second.

“— You are going to kill me,” Vale groans, hands tender on Marc’s skin. A possessive hand high on the side of his thigh, sliding Marc’s knee forwards on the bed— managing his position, a little. “Okay?”

Marc nods, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. It's a lot. 

Vale pulls his own leg up a few inches, looking for leverage and finding it— and the movement tugs at Marc’s slick hole, drags hotly against his prostate, a zip of indescribable feeling that makes him shiver and jolt, stomach jumping. Bright pleasure snakes its way through him, cutting away at everything else.

Vale sees it hit him and curves a smile Marc’s way, lifting a hand to grip Marc’s ass and keep him where he wants him, the other skating the curve of his side and feeling the muscles work. “Better?”

Words don't— he whines, digging his fingers into Vale’s shoulder, and arches his back obscenely, grinding back onto Vale. It is better, and he wants more, chasing that angle.

“Greedy,” Vale laughs, and Marc nods, lip still caught between his teeth. He's sure it’s white with pressure at this point. He starts to move, getting a rhythm going, putting some power into his thighs, thick cock dragging smoothly inside him. He hears Vale’s throat click.

“You were gone too long.” He finally answers, probably too truthfully—  It's been two weeks, since they’ve seen each other, and Marc has spent the entire evening on edge, waiting for the academy guys to clear out so he can get Vale to himself, spread out so nicely on the bed for him, pulling Marc onto his cock with a hand on his ass.

“You missed it,” Vale gasps, as Marc drives down with a twist of his hips. It’s not a question. “You needed it,”

“Yeah,” Dragged out of him like it hurts, dick rubbing the skin of Vale’s abdomen. Vale flexes up, twitching into Marc, and Marc has to squeeze his eyes shut at the feeling. He leans forwards, legs trembling, and lands a hand on Vale’s chin, directing him. Lazy blue eyes snap to his. He just, he needs— 

“Watch me,” Marc asks, rolling his hips, and he’s on top but he feels like the one that’s pinned, split open, held down by the hands on him. He flexes his pelvis, legs spread wide, and Vale spasms, thumb digging hard into bone. He’ll have bruises tomorrow, happy reminders. 

Marc had asked for attention, and Vale gives it to him, eyes roaming over him— a captive audience. His face is open, his eyes lidded— his gaze lingers on Marc’s face, his chest, the cut of his abs, his dick, red and drooling between his legs,his hole, where Vale is holding him open. Marc gives him a second— he knows he’s a picture. 

He spreads his legs and puts on a show. 

Vale’s brow furrows as Marc picks up the pace, and a soft sound punches out from him. Marc’s lips twitch, of course Vale catches it, and he answers with a grin of his own, throwing a joke out as he catches his breath. Hot amusement fills Marc up, sweet as honey.

“You can really ride, eh?” Is what Vale goes with— always happy to bring a double meaning to a phrase.

“That’s what they tell me.” Marc laughs, breathless when Vale gets his knees under him and fucks upwards, hands a gentle counterpoint cupping his waist, devastating. “World champion.”

He looks at Vale. Absorbs his face, the laughter lines there, leftover from their joke— the track of his eyeline trails over Marc’s body, genuine happiness making him boyish, curls askew from where Marc had dragged his fingers through it earlier. His face is open, as unguarded as Marc’s seen it. Rapt.

I love you, Vale’s eyes say. I love you, and it’s unmistakable. Hits Marc like a bullet.

Marc stops moving, realization gossamer in his mind, chest heaving. Vale’s hips jerk once, involuntary, dragging a choked sound out of Marc, before they stop as well.

“Are you okay?” Vale asks, panting, worry coloring his voice. He tries to sit up and Marc leans on him, palms to his chest, holding him to the bed, leveraging his strength. He doesn’t usually do that in bed, content for Vale to do the manhandling—and it makes Vale look up at him with wide,  confused eyes.

“I love you.” Marc says, intent, holding onto Vale’s gaze with both hands. Holding him in his palms. He has to know, at this point, after everything, but they’ve never said it, and a frightful need to verbalize the feeling rises up in him, overwhelming. 

There's a second as Vale’s face does something complicated, expressions flashing in quick succession, tight concern giving way to surprise. There's a moment of silence. There’s a bolt of fear. Maybe he read him wrong.

And then he smiles like the dawn breaking, and Marc is flying.

“I love you.” Vale answers. Like he means it.

“You love me?” Now that Marc’s heard it once, he reaches for it again. Greedy, Vale had said.

Vale’s cock is still snugged up inside him, an undeniable pressure. He clenches, watches Vale’s chest hitch.

“I love you,”

He starts to move, watches Vale’s eyes flutter, watches him make a low sound, dropping his hands to Marc’s thighs and giving them a slight squeeze.

“I love you.”

Marc leans forwards, hips still working, and kisses Vale, messy. He can’t stop saying it, thinking it, asking it.

“You love me,”

Their breath is fast now, frantic, caught in the moment with each other, and he answers. Every time Marc asks, he answers, the feeling huge between them, indisputable as Vale reaches for Marc’s cock, leans up to gasp into his mouth, kissing him hard and messy. Two jerky strokes, and Marc comes, crying out, dripping onto Vale’s stomach.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Vale sounds desperate, intense. His hands are everywhere, his hips stutter.

“I love you.” Marc’s not even sure if he’s asking or saying anymore, repetition becoming religion, legs still working, thighs trembling as he rises and falls, that edge of too-much that he enjoys so much coming into play. Sunlight streams in through the curtains, and Vale locks up when he comes, clutching at Marc's skin, breathing deep and fast against his neck.

“I love you.”

[hellfirexhoe]

The Pool Boy - Eddie Munson x BoredHousewife Reader

@likedovesinthewnd thank you for being the real brains behind this filth <3

Warnings: 18+ content, minors this isn't for you so fuck off, cheating, bored housewife x poolboy trope, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v sex

3,278 words

Masterlist

The hot sun beats down on you, lounging in a sun chair, dark sunglasses obscuring your eyes. An open book rests at your thighs, you look as though you are deeply engrossed, but your eyes are elsewhere, shamelessly ogling the pool boy your friend had recently hired. Tall and slender, with long dark curls and a few tattoos dotted about him, honestly, if you looked up pool boy in the dictionary a photo of this guy would be the last thing you’d find. And yet, the way he moves so confidently as he cleans the pool floor, the way his muscles flex and relax under his vest, it all just looks so right. 

Eddie, you were told his name was, with a nod of your friend’s head towards the figure by the pool as she handed you an icy margarita in the kitchen. 

“Never seen him before.” You comment, sipping at your drink, relishing the coolness of it. 

“Yeah, well, he’s cheaper than what the other guys charge and so far hasn’t urinated in my garden, so he’s a winner.” Your friend had joked as you both stepped out to the sun loungers. 

She left you alone to fix more drinks, so you had pulled out your book, not comfortable to make conversation with Eddie, nor do you have any idea what you’d even say, ask him his favourite brand of chlorine? Please. You struggle not to bite your lip and give yourself away as you watch droplets of water running down his soft skin, and then as though he can hear your thoughts, Eddie turns around, a devilish smile on his face,

“Whatcha reading?” You snap out of your trance and shake your head slightly, almost disorientated,

“Um, what, sorry?” You squeak out the words as he sets down his net and strolls over to you,

“The book. You’re so engrossed in it I figured it's either a really good book, or you’re straight up reading porn.” 

You cough a little, caught off by his brashness and quickly grab for your glass sipping down melted ice, you hold up the book so the cover can be seen while Eddie tries not to laugh, he reads the cover and nods,

“The Shining? Wouldn’t take you for a horror fan, considering how much I make you jump. I’m not that scary am I?” The only jumping you want to be doing right now is jumping his bones, and it seems like he’s flirting with you. You push that thought aside, he’s not flirting, just wants me to hire him. 

“No, you’re not scary.” Sexy, perhaps. “Who doesn’t love a good scare?”

“I don’t love a scare.” Your friend re-emerges from the kitchen, sunglasses on her forehead showing pale skin around her eyes where the sun has not hit, she looks pointedly at Eddie and back to the pool. Eddie nods and gets back to work without another word.

“You don’t have to be so rude, he can take a break for a few minutes.”

“I’m paying him to clean my pool, not host a book club in my garden. You want to pay for his conversation? Be my guest.” Your friend grabs her bag off the floor and rummages until she finds a business card, it's fairly plain just a phone number and the words “Munson Landscaping”. You plush the card from your friend’s manicured fingers and settle back with another drink. Careful to not let your gaze wander back to Eddie.

When you get home, it’s late and yet still you’re greeted by an empty house. You’d married young and for money. And now you are left with the distinct feeling that you might be wasting your best years on someone who deep down you share no meaningful connection with. Your parents of course had been delighted, it was a step up in the world for you and meant they could look forward to a comfortable retirement since you were their only child. You wander into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water as you stare out of the window to the pool. A woefully immaculate pool. One that definitely does not need a pool boy to attend to it.

Maybe it's the slight buzz that does it, maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis. But you step out into the garden and find the waste bags the gardener would be collecting in the morning. Dumping all of them into the pool would be ridiculous. So you settle for one, the heaviest, mind you. You cast a quick look around and quickly rip the bag open, tossing the contents into your pristine pool. You look over your handiwork as you dispose of the bag.

“Yep. I’m losing it.” 

You walk back into the house, shutting the cool night air out and shivering slightly, you’re still only clad in a bathing suit and cover-up. You rummage through your bag and locate the business card you were given earlier this afternoon, you practise speaking a few times, trying to sound casual and not desperate and once your semi-confident you can talk like a person you dial the number, twisting the cord between your fingers as you hear the dialling tone. Your heart sinks into your stomach when an older voice answers,

“Munson Landscaping, Wayne speaking, how can I help you?” 

“Oh, uh um hi. Is Eddie available?” You hear a changing of hands and a muttering from the older voice identified as Wayne.

“Eddie speaking.” 

“Oh, hi Eddie, this is Miranda’s friend from today.”

“Oh hey, Miranda gave you this number?” You nod, and then remember that’s not how phone conversations work.

“Yes, listen I just got home and I think my gardener’s check might have bounced or something because it looks like he’s dumped a load of garden waste into my pool. I was wondering if you would be free tomorrow to come and sort it out for me?” You hope you sound casual and lighthearted.

Eddie laughs, “So, a quick tip when you’re calling people to do services for you, don’t mention checks bouncing. I’ll be over at 10am tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver, I’ll make sure I have cash for you.” You’re kicking yourself right now, why on earth would you mention a check bouncing? You could have said the wind this evening blew it into your pool.

“Relax sweetheart, it's just a pool. See you.” The line clicks and you lean back against the cool kitchen counter, you swear you can feel your skin sizzle from how hot your whole body feels, all this just from a phone call?

You sleep fitfully that night, your dreams nothing short of vulgar, that leave you waking up multiple times wanting. It’s almost a relief when your alarm finally rings, freeing you from the relentless lewd scenarios your brain is able to come up with. You take a cold shower, trying to calm your mind down, trying to rationalise that you’re not going to fuck the pool boy. You’re not that much of a cliche. You just want to ogle him. Oof. You’re not sure that’s much better. One thing is for sure, you can’t start fights with your husband for visiting strip clubs ever again.

You rummage through your swimwear drawer, throwing bits of fabric over your shoulder until you land on a dark red set you'd bought for your honeymoon, hoping to jump start your husband’s libido. You’d stood at the foot of the bed, striking a pose and your husband’s response had been to peer over his newspaper and inform you it was distasteful and to get changed before returning to his crossword. You doubt Eddie’s reaction would be in even the same realm as your husband’s. You slip into the bathing suit, grabbing the black sheer wrap and wedge sandals you had left on the floor from the previous day. 

Eddie is perfectly punctual, knocking on your door as the second hand ticks to 10 and greets you with a disarming smile, the pool vacuum resting over his arm, he looks you up and down before he can help himself and quickly forces his eyes back up to your face, clinging to a veneer of professionalism that is dangerously close to slipping. As you turn around and lead him to the back garden you hear a sharp intake of breath. As expected, an infinitely different reaction than your husband’s. You unlock the back door and gesture to the pool, filthy now from the garden waste being left in overnight.

“Damn, I’d get a new gardener. You clearly pissed them off.” Eddie whistles as he takes in the damage that your “gardener” caused. Eddie gets to work straight away, pulling his sweatshirt off over his head and giving you a glimpse of more of his skin. You head inside the house and return shortly with glasses of lemonade, you gesture to Eddie, indicating which one is his and he gives you a thumbs up in thanks.

You settle yourself into a sun lounger, this time determined to read more than 3 pages of your book in between glances at Eddie. You can’t just sit here staring. Eddie is a quick worker, you look up from your book after 20 minutes and find he’s almost cleared the branches and leaves. Maybe I should have used all the bags… The thought enters your head before you can stop it and you force yourself to look back at the book, certain your knuckles are white from the grip you have on the pages. You refuse to allow yourself to look back up at Eddie, not even when you hear him approaching and taking a seat on the sun lounger opposite you and chugging his lemonade.

“Okay, honesty hour. Did you dump all this into the pool so you’d have a reason to call me?”

You still don’t look up, “Really, why on earth would I do that?”

“I don’t know but either you made this mess or your gardener has an expensive taste.” You look up at him quizzically and immediately your eyes settle on a glittering bracelet that Eddie is dangling in front of you, reflexively you grab for it and give yourself away. There’s no way you could lie about this being the gardener’s based on the way your magpie hands grabbed at the shiny object.

“Wanted to see me again that badly huh?” Eddie smirks as you reattach the bracelet to your wrist, then as quickly as he came over he strolls back to the pool, continuing to work, the smirk never leaving his face as he continues skimming, the gentle laps of water against the side of the pool the only sound that breaks the silence between you two. You decide to ignore it, turning your attention to your book, a resolve that lasts for all of 30 seconds before you’re staring at Eddie again, watching the way his body moves, eyeing that tattoos that peak out from his vest, while you try to work out the shapes your questions are answered when he pulls the vest top over his head and wipes his forehead with it before throwing it to the side. You blindly reach out for your glass but the condensation makes the glass slip out of your hand and shatter on the ground. You curse loudly and Eddie looks up at the sound,

“You okay?” 

You nod, “Fine, just clumsy. I’ll grab a pan for this.” You head to the kitchen and are followed by Eddie, insisting he can help. You grab the pan from the cupboard and start slightly when you see Eddie immediately behind you. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He all but purrs at you, stepping into your space, but slowly, giving you an opportunity to push him away. You don’t, you step towards him and before you can register what’s happening your lips are locked in a searing kiss, Eddie pushes you against the counter, pinning you between it and him, meaning you can feel his cock as it hardens through his thin shorts, you gasp for air as he pulls away,

“Is this okay?” He asks, cheeks flushed and breathless, you nod, pushing him away just enough so that you can slip down to your knees. Screw it. Fuck the thought of being a cliche, you banish all those thoughts from your mind, this is something that you both want and need from each other.

You pull his shorts down slowly, and can’t help but lick your lips as you take in his length. He's bigger than your husband, not just in length but in girth too. You run your tongue up the underside of his dick, eliciting a deep groan from him, you might be rusty but you haven’t completely forgotten how to give good head. You take his tip slowly, barely sucking but enough to have Eddie gripping the counter behind him for dear life, you work your way up, gradually taking more and more of his length until his tip is nudging the back of your throat, you use your hand to squeeze and stroke along the length that you know you can’t take,

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mumbles as you take his length as deep as you dare, until your eyes are misty with tears and then come back up his length, over and over until his cock is coated in your saliva and he’s barely able to speak,

“Sh-shit you need to stop or I’m going to cum right down your throat.” You grant him reprieve, letting his length go with a sordid pop as the tip leaves your mouth. Eddie leans back on the counter for a second, appearing to catch his breath before a devilish smile spreads across his lips, 

“Your turn.” and before you can speak he’s pulling you to standing, and lifting you onto the counter with a surprising amount of ease, he’s definitely stronger than he looks. 

“This,” he plays with the top of your bathing suit, before unclasping it and throwing it to the floor,

“Is,” now he yanks down the bottoms, leaving you bare on the counter, “So fucking hot.”

“If you like it so much why did you take it off?” You tease him, trying to cover yourself, unsure of why you’re attempting to preserve any modesty.

“Because as sexy as you look in it, you look much better like this.”

Before you can come up with a smart retort his head is between your legs and he’s alternating between sucking on your clit so harshly it makes your hips buck and tracing letters on it with the softest brush of his tongue, it’s maddening sensation that has you racing towards your peak before being slowly brought back down to earth. You whine in frustration and Eddie comes away, kissing at your thighs and rubbing circles into them as though anything other than an orgasm could calm you now.

“Let’s play a game, if you can guess what I’m spelling I’ll let you cum.” You nod, breathing hard, only focused on winning the game so that he’ll stop tormenting you. Eddie’s head dives back in, the tracing of his tongue now going much slower, allowing your head to clear enough to think. The first letter is E - easy enough. Then the second and third letters are the same and form a slow circle around your clit then a quick upwards flick - d. 

“Eddie!” you cry out panting, praying to be right, you hear a quiet chuckle before Eddie is eating you like a man starved, shaking his head and moaning against you, your hands become tangled in his hair and your hips start to twitch entirely of their own accord, it's been what feels like an eternity since you last felt this desired, this kind of bliss. Eddie keeps his actions consistent, wrapping his soft lips around your clit and wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you close until he has your whole body in spasm from orgasm. 

He wraps his arms around your body as you cling to him, coming down from your high with breathy sighs and unconscious twitches. He helps you down from the counter and holds you steady, waiting until your legs are able to take your weight before his hands leave you, 

“Think you can keep going?” A hungry smile forms on his lips as he speaks and you nod, desperate for more. You bend over the counter, sticking out your ass at him and Eddie hesitates for just a moment,

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” You shake your head,

“Just fuck me Eddie.” You’re practically pleading but it's not like you’d need to plead, he’s lining himself up and trying to bite back a moan at the mere sensation of your slick dripping onto the head of his cock. He shivers and slowly slides in, the stretch burns slightly and you make a noise somewhere between pleasure and pain and he stills,

“Everything okay?” You nod and he continues to fill you up, it’s almost a relief when you feel his thighs flush with yours, he pauses, allowing you to adjust to his size before he starts slowly pulling back and setting an almost torturously slow pace, like he has all the time in the world to fuck you and he’s going to relish every single second. 

“Fuck you feel so fucking good.” Eddie groans against your shoulder and you can only nod dumbly and moan in response, as your body becomes used to his size he begins to pick up the pace, biting at your shoulder as he pounds into you, every thrust forcing a soft cry of pleasure from your lips. You lean back against him, pressing your back against his chest and he wraps an arm around you to toy with your clit, the dual stimulation making it impossible for you to focus on anything but the euphoria of this moment. Eddie sucks the skin of your neck harshly, you know its going to leave a mark but you don’t care, you cry out for more and then Eddie fucks you harder, nearing his peak, and thats when he makes you do something unexpected. Eddie makes you squirt, creating a mess on the kitchen floor.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Eddie grunts as he reaches his own orgasm, burying himself to the hilt inside you so that you can feel every pulse of his cock as he unloads inside you. Eddie pulls out slowly, as if he resents doing so.  You lean forward onto the kitchen counter and try to catch your breath and control the shaking of your thighs, Eddie strokes your back soothingly, whispering words of encouragement to you. You hear cupboards opening near you and then Eddie presents you with a glass of water that you take in shaking hands.

“Fuck.” is the only word you’re able to say. Eddie laughs breathily, 

“Right there with you.” 

As you recover from your post orgasm haze you suddenly become hyper aware of your nudity and scramble for your cover-up from the floor. Eddie follows suit and grabs his shorts, hiking them up. You throw a kitchen towel over the mess on the floor, cheeks blazing at the sight. 

“Well, I’d better get back to the pool.” Eddie bumps your shoulder playfully and then whistles when he gets a look at your neck, “Sorry about that.” 

You sneak a peak in the mirror and gasp when you see the darkening love bites left on your skin, those can’t be explained. Then it thrills you a little. How far could you take this?

Eddie taglist: @hellfire-puppet @just-absolutely-feral @fangirling-4-ever @and-claudia @scrumptiouslyangrystarfish @quinndjarin @munsonsgirl71 @likedovesinthewnd @boomhauer @joejoequinnquinn @callmeloverr @dukesmebby

[avalonia320]

all of the ghouls come out to play

I'm flexing my slightly atrophied writer's muscles with a swing at an IWTV fic. Here's a sneak peek if anyone's interested. This is going to be a canon compliant fic, bridging the gap between season 2 & season 3. Louis has returned to New Orleans once more to reconnect with Lestat, but this time Lestat is no where to be found. Instead, Louis is distracted by dreams of Claudia and reaches out for help. This fic will cover the beginning of Ghost Claudia, & maybe even the start of Devil's Minion.

This is from the first chapter, after Louis has woken up from a particularly intense dream. I have to say, I really enjoy writing Louis/Daniel convos.

***

A few minutes later, Louis found what he was looking for: Daniel, in a bar in Chicago, side-eyeing a bartender who had watered down his drinks like the man was lunch. Which, by the direction of Daniel’s thoughts, was exactly what the man was going to be. A high price for trying to save 50 cents on bourbon.

Daniel, it’s Louis.

Louis du Pointe du Lac. It’s about fucking time. Glad to hear you’re still alive. You went radio silent after your big challenge. I was getting a little concerned.

He got right to the point. I need a favor. I need you to use your research skills to check on something for me. Something to do with Paris.

Of course it’s fucking Paris. I knew all that ‘time heals’ crap was bullshit. What is it that you’re wanting to know?

Louis steeled himself. I had a dream. About Claudia. It took him several painful minutes to explain, recounting everything he had seen, what he thought it might mean. 

There was a long silence once Louis was done speaking. He could picture Daniel so clearly, as if he were in front of him, reading the expression Daniel undoubtedly had on his face right now. The disapproval. The worry tinged with fear. And finally…that hint of insatiable curiosity that Louis was banking on.

Daniel, he thought finally. Will you look into it or not?

I'm just trying to think how to talk you out of this. You know this is a bad road to go down.

I’m having these dreams for a reason. I need to know. If it’s really her or if I’m just -

Crazy? I hate to say it -  alright I’m lying, I enjoy saying it - but we both know that crazy train pulled out of the station a long, long time ago.

Louis chuckled quietly to himself. That may be true, he admitted. But I still need to know.

You want my advice? Of course you don’t but I’m gonna give it to you anyway. Let a dream be just a dream. You don’t always need to go digging up the bones, trying to see if they’ll talk to you.

I trust you understand the rich irony of those words coming from you, my friend.

A long capitulating sigh was the only response for several seconds before Daniel spoke again. Fine. I’ll look into it. His words were saturated with reluctance. At least tell me something good. Tell me you’re not in Dubai anymore.

I’m not in Dubai. I’m in New Orleans.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Daniel groaned loudly. No wonder you’re in the mood for a seance. You know that’s the first place anyone’s gonna come looking for you once they figure out you’re not in Dubai.

It’s sweet that you care, Daniel. But this is where I need to be right now.

Who says I care? I just need you alive for the next book.

Louis smiled to himself. Sure. 

OK, I admit it. I care. So listen to what I’m saying now. There’s nothing for you in New Orleans. Lestat isn’t even there anymore. Stop chasing ghosts and come visit me instead. I’m flying out to California to start the second half of the press tour tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me? You don’t have to be on camera if you don’t want to. We can relive old times at Polynesian Mary’s when we’re in San Francisco. Go night swimming in Santa Monica. It’ll be good for you.

Louis stretched before he stood up, stepping out of the coffin. It’s tempting. But I’m not ready to - He stopped as sudden realization struck him. Wait. How do you know Lestat isn’t in New Orleans anymore?

There was an uncharacteristic hesitation. Uh..

What is it that you’re not telling me, Daniel?

My agent’s calling me. I have to go.

DANIEL.

I’m hanging up now. This is me slamming down the metaphorical phone. If you really want to know, get on a fucking plane. His voice gentled slightly. I’ll let you know what I find out about Paris. 

DANIEL MOLLOY DON’T YOU DARE - 

It was too late. Daniel’s voice was gone. 

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know...(6/?)

Word Count: 2,551 Words

Rating: Explicit (SMUT + Violence)

Chapter 6

"Welcome to the nightmare in my head

Say hello to something scary

The monster in your bed

Just give in and you won't be sorry"

- Halestorm

“And, here I was wondering what all the fuss was about…” Lucifer chuckled. “You better not have blown apart my fuse box.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed bright; cutting through the darkness. Lucifer’s eyes had quickly adjusted to the loss of light and he could see that Alastor was struggling with himself. He watched as Alastor’s clawed fingers flexed; cutting into his face – his head shaking.

“Whoa, hold on.” Lucifer quickly threw up a portal; a ring of swirling gold forming beside him. “No need for that; you’re covered in enough scars, my friend.”

Alastor’s hands curled into fists; he pressed them to the sides of his head – ears flattening - as he took a stumbling step backward. His antlers were growing at an incredible rate; filling the room. Lucifer could hear bones cracking…

“Better do this then…” Lucifer manifested a chain in his hand; with a toss, he sent it flying at Alastor. A heavy shackle caught the demon at the neck, snapping closed. The chain was heavy; made to restrain Al just enough for Lucifer to get him moved. He hesitated to use heavenly bonds or any of the chains that were casted in brimstone…better to allow Alastor the freedom to shift and change as he succumbed to his rut – he worried that confining him now might make things worse for the sinner.

A vicious snarl erupted from between Alastor’s clenched teeth; hands wrapping around the chain that held his shackle.

“Come along, then” Lucifer shifted smoothly; six wings spreading wide as he threw himself backward into the portal – dragging Alastor with him.

The pocket of nothing that he had brought them to was no less dark than the shower room had been. Lucifer was a romantic at heart – even with their unique transactional circumstance -  he would have preferred something more scenic or comfortable. However, this would be plenty accommodating to them for now.

Once they were through; Lucifer snapped the portal closed – flicking the chain back and sending it and the shackle away. Folding his wings and shifting back; Lucifer assessed Alastor’s state.

The demon was on his hands and knees; claws gouging into the floor. Lucifer could see that he was still fighting with himself; the muscles on his back were stretched, strained and taut. Drops of blood were falling from the cuts he had made to his face and onto the floor. His ears were laid back flat and his antlers continued to thicken and lengthen.

Lucifer approached him and he saw that Alastor’s body was shaking from all of his effort.

Damn it.

“Alastor!” Lucifer knelt to face him. “You need to stop doing this.” 

The demon’s claws dug deeper. Alastor wasn’t looking at him; he was snarling through his teeth – bloody foam seeping from his gums and Lucifer knew he had bitten himself somewhere.

Lucifer hesitated to touch him; but then he reached out and caught Al’ chin – pulling it up so that he could look into his maniac and crazed eyes.

“We’re good. I got us where we need to be. You don’t have to keep fighting it…” He saw Alastor wanted to believe it; desperately needed to but his body clenched as a ripple of shivering ran through him – he needed to allow himself to shift form.

Running on his hunch…Lucifer gripped his chin tighter; needing Alastor to understand. “It’s okay…you’re not going to hurt anyone; certainly not me. I’ve got this, just…let it go. It’s time to lose control.”

 It was incredibly brief but something in Alastor’s face was viscerally honest as his eyes widened; his ears pressing flatter before a violent shudder ran through him. His claws retracted from the floor and Lucifer quickly backed himself away.

Ducking his head; Alastor finally let himself change – sharp creaks and cracks filling the darkness as his limbs twisted and contorted; his body violently snapping and lengthening as he became something hulking and macabre.

Massive clawed hands spread; each talon sharpened into an incredibly large and deadly point. His antlers finally found their form; twisting and black they jutted into sharpened points – gleaming white at the tips. The branches curled and wound around themselves; the bases were thick and heavy; protruding sharply from his great head. His ears laid low and flat; curling at the tips. His mouth was all teeth – long, jagged points hanging from the maw and dripping drool mixed with red-tinted foam. His thin body had become sucked in – ribbed and bony – vertebrae sticking grotesquely from his back. A thick red and black line of fur stretched from his head and down his back – the bristling hairs standing into sharp hackles A similar line of hairs formed a trail from his navel all the way down to his groin. His tail – no longer delicate and cute – was frizzed up; standing and trembling behind him. His legs were bent into haunches behind him; hocks covered in black fur that ran to meet red cloven hooves. More eye-catching than anything though; was Alastor’s penis – fully erect it pressed curved and seeping into his abdomen as he moved – the size of it matching these new greater proportions he had found for himself.

“Where the fuck are you going to put that?” Lucifer crossed his arms; tilting his head.

Alastor’s red eyes bore down on the angel; the pupils had become moving radio dials. A static buzzing filled the air – sending vibrations all throughout this enclosed and yet empty space. Alastor’s great maw opened; lower jaw hanging slack as saliva seeped from between great yellow teeth; spilling onto the floor. A rumbling traveled to Lucifer; sending tremors to him from the floor as a deep and gurgling growl emitted deep from Alastor’s chest.

“I’m not turning myself into some fucked-up-looking doe; if that’s what you’re wanting. There’s not enough lube in the world for me to be comfortable with you pointing that thing at me.” Lucifer continued to jape at him.

Judging from experience; he suspected that Alastor’s eldritch form was more of a result from all of his pent up energy wreaking havoc with his power and less to do with breeding. Lucifer made a mental note of them needing to have a discussion regarding the positive sides to promiscuity – or at least the beneficial aspects of some increased frequency with it.

Alastor stepped one hulking clawed hand toward him; the points cutting deep marks into the floor. The radio static was humming louder – developing into a sharp and stabbing keening. The hackles on his back stood up straighter and his tongue lolled long and dangling from his mouth.

“Still a ‘no’ from me, I’m afraid.” Lucifer told him with a passive wave of the hand.

Alastor’s growling deepened; another clawed hand stepping forward – followed with the scrape of a massive cloven hoof.

“You know…” Lucifer smoothly shifted form himself; his wings pulling him upward. “There’s really nothing sexier than consent.”

A great and terrible snarl tore through the empty space as Alastor leant back onto his massive haunches and swiped a wickedly large handful of claws at Lucifer. The angel dipped; easily dodging the outstretched talons.

“Now don’t go getting your ears all in a twist with me just because you’re feeling sexually frustrated…when I offered a lovely bit of fellatio the other day but, no-”

Alastor flung a warped and twisted forelimb at Lucifer; catching him in the palm he drove him into the ground – pinning him there.

“Ow.” Lucifer then laughed. “Sorry, you didn’t actually hurt me…just a reflex. Funny, how that sometimes just comes out, am I right?” He smirked up at Alastor, his head pressed tightly between two great talons.

Alastor’s glowing eyes narrowed as he leaned over; saliva falling in strings from his lips.

“Oh, yuck…” Lucifer squirmed. “Do not! You touch me with that slime and I will blow chunks all over these pretty claws of yours.”

Alastor pressed closer; the strings of drool dangling just above Lucifer now.

“No, Al!” He cringed, wriggling. “Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew – EW!!!”

In a soft poof; he became a sizeable white snake – easily slipping from between the claws and coiling around the base of one enlarged finger.

“Ssssssssseriously.” Lucifer’s snake formed raised up; flicking out it’s tongue. “Disssgusssssssting!”

Alastor’s insane and monstrous grin widened; lifting the clawed hand Lucifer was on he quickly brought it to his teeth; meaning to pull the snake off.

A soft poof again and Lucifer was a small white bird; swiftly spiraling and darting all around.

Alastor drew back, tilting his head as his glowing eyes followed the bird’s quick movements.

“Whooo…” Lucifer’s bird form puffed in little pants. “Wish I knew that this what we would be doing…I need to work-out more.”

Sharply; tilting his head Alastor clipped the little bird with a branch of his antler – sending it somersaulting downward.

Lucifer swiftly shifted back to form – his large six wings dragging him quickly upward again.

“Fucking nice shot!” He climbed higher before hovering in place. “I’m impressed.” He smiled down at Alastor with a wide and toothy shit-eating grin.

Alastor huffed; snapping his jaws closed – snaggle-toothed fangs overhanging his lower lip - thin trails of blood seeping down his chin.

“You really need to stop biting yourself.” Lucifer remarked. “Stomatitis is no joke.”

Alastor threw his bulking weight up; jaws flying open and slamming shut a hair’s breadth from Lucifer when he flapped back.

“Fuck, you’re quick.” Lucifer dove; evading a close swipe.

Skimming close to the ground, Lucifer spread his wings wide before pulling them sharply down to pull himself back upward as Alastor leapt for him.

The keening of the radio was starting to die down now and Lucifer saw that Alastor’s fur and hair was standing less upright.

“Are we about done here?” Lucifer asked him; hovering again. “I’m starting to get bored and I really hate flying around fully naked; it gets drafty.”

Sitting back; Alastor raised himself up onto his haunches – clawed hands lifting from the ground; limbs hanging long and lanky as he considered Lucifer’s position.

Before he could make another attempt at him; Lucifer flung an arm and sent a flurry of golden chains - holy bonds – to encircle the eldritch demon’s legs. Pulling his fist back; the bonds tightened – effectively pulling Alastor heavily to the ground.

With a dive and a flaring of wings; Lucifer landed beside him.

The holy bonds encircling his legs had not only brought Alastor down but also brought him back to form. The radio demon hissed and spat; flinging spit and blood onto the floor as he tried to tear at the chains encircling his legs.

Lifting a hand; Lucifer sent another chain to twist tightly around Alastor’s wrist. With a jerk; the chain pulled his hand to his back – a loop of it sharply pulling his other to meet it so that he was solidly hog-tied.

Alastor pinned his ears flat to his head; snarling loudly as Lucifer stood there, considering him. His antlers were heavy and spread wide above his head, his eyes flaring starkly red.

“You are quite powerful, aren’t you.” Lucifer casually noted. “I have you in some of the strongest chains in Hell and you are still a bit of a problem. I bet you have power that even you haven’t tapped into yet.” He laughed. “I believe you actually could give me some real grief even…under the right circumstances.”   

Alastor’s snarl deepened.

“Now…the question that comes to us now, I think, is this:” Lucifer’s eyes trailed to Alastor’s crotch. The demon was uselessly fighting the bonds, lying on his side and snarling crazily into the floor. He was still sporting a rather uncomfortable looking erection; the member had to be terribly painful and throbbing to him by now. “How do we make you more…compliant? You’re going to have to get more of a grip on yourself before I let you touch me again.”

Alastor’s snarling was starting to die in his throat – turning to low growls; a little bit of the craziness was leaving his eyes. 

“I suppose I could leave you here – give you time to cool down. Or, perhaps…” Lucifer lifted a wrist; tilting it.

Alastor’s eyes widened and his growling ceased.

Good, he’s still out of control but at least he’s coherent now.

Lucifer moved closer and knelt near Alastor’s face – firmly he reached out and gripped him by the base of an antler – lifting his head so their eyes were level with each other. 

“If you bite the absolute shit out of me, I’ll put a muzzle on that lovely face.” Lucifer told him.

Eyes wide; Alastor’s twisted and insane smile grew.

Still holding him by the antler; Lucifer brought his wrist close to Alastor’s face.

“You won’t hear this when I tell you…” Lucifer was saying, as Alastor bit sharply into the skin; hot golden blood dripping from around his lips. “But, you will want to take it easy with that it’s….” Alastor’s eyes rolled and he started to sway drunkenly. “Potent.”

Sighing; Lucifer pulled his bleeding wrist from him. Gold seeped from the corners of the radio demon’s mouth. The chains encircling him came loose; sliding away into the dark.

“Even at that,” Lucifer was saying; steadying him by the antler. “You’re more of a lightweight than I anticipated.”

Lucifer gave him a minute; letting the effects of the ichor work through his system.

When Alastor started moving; Lucifer carefully observed him. Alastor was disoriented and his eyes were glazed but the craziness that had been there had left him.

“You feeling ok?” Lucifer asked him; releasing the antler now that he was a little more with it.

Alastor shifted and Lucifer briefly saw again that the sinner’s erection was curved tightly upward before the sinner was climbing over him.

Lucifer fell back with him; feeling Alastor’s throbbing member pressing against him. Alastor was kissing him; pressing Lucifer to the floor beneath him – grinding roughly into him. Flicking his hand open; Lucifer reached between them and grasped at the incredible length. Alastor gasped; feeling his cock slide through the warm lube Lucifer had manifested into his palm.

They quickly adjusted themselves; Alastor leant over - sliding into Lucifer – bodies pressed tightly together and facing each other. Alastor eased himself in – shuddering at the tight heat. Lucifer’s penis and balls were tucked tightly between them; his member responding quickly to the stimulation of their movements. Groaning; Alastor began moving and Lucifer arched himself back; lifting his pelvis so that every thrust was a delicious stroke to his swelling cock.     

Alastor’s chest and face were turning a brilliant and deep red; he was panting and sweat coated his tired body. He trembled and Lucifer gripped his sides; steadying him. Jerking; there was a hitch to Alastor’s thrusts and he was climaxing – his sensitive member stiffening then softening inside Lucifer. Shakily; Alastor pulled himself out; he tried to angle himself so that he could reach for Lucifer’s length but he swayed – he was incredibly lightheaded. Feeling he was close; Lucifer pulled Alastor to him – gripping his own length he pumped himself – kissing Alastor’s neck while allowing him to lick the drying remnants of his blood from the inside of his free wrist.  

Lapping the skin clean; Alastor groaned – collapsing onto Lucifer just as the angel found his own blessed release. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7

[arcticwolfpaws]

Gotham's light

Chapter 4: A night out

Faraj's P.O.V

When night fell in the manor everything got quiet fast, I noticed how quickly Bruce and Jason went to bed, the older boy who's name I'd forgotten at this point had stayed up with me for a while.

"Why did they go to sleep so early?"

"Oh it's kind of the normal here, don't worry about it you'll get use to it." He stated his voice never felt unkind and he never got suspicious of me like Jason had, or at least if he had he wasn't as open about it a Jason, We sat on the couch and watched a movie, about half way through he fell asleep, and I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered him with it as the butler wandered in, I looked up at him and froze but the older man smiled softly at me,

"Once you're done young master let's get you ready for bed." I nodded unsure of what else to do I finished covering him, before heading over to the butler.

"I can't for the life of me remember your name or his." I stated and he hummed looking down at me for a moment, he reminded me of the friendly old grandpa's in movies and I liked that, Mr, Wilson said I wouldn't like my grand father, but if he was anything like the butler I would think that he was wrong.

"That's not a problem master Bruce once struggled with names as well, I am Alfred pennyworth, and the young man you were with is Richard Grayson he prefers to be called dick however." I nodded, I was going to forget that by morning. but I wasn't going to tell Alfred that, Actually I'd write it down. Alfred took me up to my room and settled me into bed, it felt... Odd having someone tuck me in, I didn't stay tucked long. I started with writing down those names.

'Richard (Dick) Grayson, collage student? doesn't seem to live in the manor,

Alfred Pennyworth, Kindly old butler,'

For a moment I thought about adding more to it but I decided not to for fear of how one might react if it was found.

with that I grabbed a dark hoodie and tied it around my waist, before pulling off my shirt, with a breath I let my wings start to form, it was simple painless but slower then I cared for telling me I likely hadn't formed them since I'd been in Gotham, first cam the bone Growing from just under my shoulder blades then the muscles before the skin and nerves, I flexed the bat like wings making sure everything was connected before I tried to fly, Once I was confident that every thing was working right I made my way to the window pulling it open, I looked down and let out a soft squeak causing my sonar to bounce off the ground, It seemed like it was roughly 15 feet down it gave me enough room to fly but I would have liked more.

With that out of my way I climbed onto the window sill and jumped letting my wings catch the air before I started to fly properly, I shivered feeling alive as I always did in flight I couldn't help myself I laughed as I did a barrel roll and flew towards Gotham, even though this was mostly for fun, I did need to see if I could fill in some of the blanks of my memory.

First on the list the blue man, I was supposed to be with. as I flew over the harbor I could hear the sounds of a city over the nice quiet sounds of the waves, police sirens and honking cars... I hated the city a place that never seemed to rest and seemed to always have noise I didn't under stand how people could deal with it. I flew higher as I got closer to the high rises wanting to stay out of sight the best that I could until I got to the factory district where I knew I was supposed to be staying.

I knew I was in the right place when the buildings all started to look the same and I landed letting my sonar bounce off the walls of buildings it helped me avoid any unwanted interactions as I found what I was looking for a low entrance near the water front, I slipped inside not making a sound as I stayed low for my own safety.

I spotted him speaking to a strange man in a black suite with a grumpy looking kid in a bright red and yellow costume, I stayed out of sight, the fact that this place was a freezer and my hair was white actually for once made it easier.

"So things are going well?" The low rumble of The man in blacks voice, it gave me pause why... why did that sound so familiar? I closed my eyes as I listened trying to piece this to gather.

"Yes and no, Every set back is a step forward batman." Blue man's voice was robotic that sounded right from what I remembered.

"Come on Batman, isn't there anything more interesting to do rather then standing around talking?" I recognized the voice instantly I had to keep myself from chocking audibly, wait if flag boy was Jason then... Was the man in black Bruce? I wondered to myself. when I looked back the were gone and I double checked with my sonar, once I knew they were gone I slowly stepped out and spoke.

"Blue man, I have some questions that I need answered." He jumped and spun around looking at me those eerie red goggles never bother me but I didn't like how I struggled to read his expression.

"I was warned that you were a meta human but I wasn't expecting wings on you." he stated stepping closer before speaking again as he looked me over.

"I was convinced that that brute had you killed." He stated and I hummed,

"What brute?" I shook my head realizing I needed to exsplain,

"Killed no drugged just enough that everything is a bit of a blur yes and I would like some idea on what I might have missed... and to know what was up with those two?" He looked surprised before speaking,

"You...." He started then shook his head, as if to clear his mind as he walked around messing with flasks I wasn't sure what was in them,

"That was Gotham's duo batman and robin, and as far as what happened Bruce Wayne came in with thugs recked the place and took you." He stated and I hummed he paused. looking down at my feet,

"How do you manage to be stealthy with house slippers on?" He asked and I grinned

"They add some extra padding... do you still have anything I had when I was left here?" he nodded and walked to one of the back rooms I followed him and was glad to see my duffle, I dug through it and found proper cloths for this kind of work and pulled them over what I was currently wearing I had to let my wings decay to get the jacket with magnets in it's back on I straighten that out and pulled on my boots leaving me to wonder what I should do with my now dirty slippers. I shoved them in my pocket before heading out, giving the blue man a wave as I did. he just seemed to sigh as I left I heard him speak as I got to the door.

"Oh Nora, I know I was pressured into keeping him... but this feels like it is out of my hands." I closed the door letting him talk to the frozen lady. I opened my wings and took a deep breath as I took to the air again and started trying to remember were I had been taken when I flew over an apartment building, I had been in an apartment, and I knew myself well enough to start checking for open windows finally finding one in park row, I slipped in to find a bare apartment with little more then a blanket, I used my sonar again letting out soft clicks as I moved through the dark, I defiantly know this place. but there wasn't much here, and no real clues with a sigh I left. heading home I'd have to hide my cloths but I had a good idea of how to do that and I stopped near the Ace chemical factory and found the hidden stash left for me by Mr, Wilson left for me I left the extra cloths there, I frowned again at the slippers, I'd have to try and clean them in my bathroom. I flew... Home and that felt odd to think... home. I'd never had a real Home before... It felt weirdly warm.

I landed in my window letting my wing decay and turn to dust, I closed the window before picking up my shirt and heading to try and wash the house slippers, I managed to get most of the dirt out of them and I sighed and shook my head setting them next to my bed I wouldn't be able to use them tomorrow I pulled the shirt back on before taking off my glasses and crawling back in to bed yawning as I did.

[radical-sky]

UPDATE: part one is posted on tumblr HERE

Okay fam/friends/mutuals. I have been working on something that I really really want feedback on before I continue. It’s my only foray into Mission: Impossible fic and the first thing I’ve written and put on the internet in 7. I welcome constructive criticism. This is arguably a very, very rough draft and I wrote it entirely on my phone which I’ve never done before. There’s still shaping up to do but I have a good bit more than this written and know how it’s going to play out. Thoughts please? 🫣😮‍💨

Ilsa can’t remember the last time she was tempted to fidget. It’s never been as tempting as it is now, standing in a cold and damp third world prison waiting for Ethan to be brought out to her. Well, not just her. The White Widow stands next to her, her brother not far away. He scowls at Ilsa, not happy to be here and not happy to risk his and his sister’s lives on a job for her. It’s nothing sanctioned (if you or your team are killed or captured you’ll be disavowed) but the moment Benji had finally, finally found Ethan the four of them - Luther, Benji, Ilsa, and even Brandt pulling strings and doing as much as he could behind the scenes - things had moved pretty quickly. Luther or Benji (it doesn’t matter now because they both had been trying their damnedest to get it done) had hacked into the security system on the prison; cameras in every cell, interrogation room, the hallways. Not that any of them needed to see what they were doing to Ethan (in the two weeks since she first saw him on the grainy camera feed it’s all she sees when she closes her eyes, doesn’t need audio to hear his screams and the sounds they rip from his throat, or backdated footage to catalog what tool made each scar or bleeding wound on his body. those pictures will be seared in her brain for all eternity. she wants and yearns and rages at the sacrifice he made for her, for them and falls asleep with a screen playing live footage from his cell in her lap, showing him pressed back into the corner of the tiny cage, curled up protectively, shivering or trembling she can’t tell. wishing she could tell him somehow i’m coming. i will get you out. i haven’t forgotten about you. you’re not disavowed to me. i’m sorry. i’m so terribly sorry ethan). They don’t have to watch the footage for long to decide that any escape that depends on Ethan getting himself out won’t happen. Without government backing and even with Brandt’s help they don’t have the resources or the manpower to storm the prison and break him out. That left one option, and it wasn’t one that any of them liked. The White Widow had been less than thrilled to hear from Ilsa but intrigued at the prospect of mediating an exchange for her. She’d been more willing when she realized John Lark was half the exchange. The team had been up in the air about how to refer to Ethan, but in the end had to believe that Ethan hadn’t revealed himself as an American agent, if he had the terrorists surely would have executed him, or worse, auctioned him to the highest bidder. The White Widow knew him as John Lark, so they kept that identity with her, and insisted that it not be revealed to the terrorists. It’d taken almost a week for the White Widow to get the meet set-up, leaving ample time for the team to get the money gathered (and that part hurt. they’d had ethan for 5 months. 5 months of torturing him and all they wanted was money?). So, now here she is. Not fidgeting. Not twisting her ankle or flexing her calf muscles and imaging she can feel the rods and pins holding her leg together, or the scar where her tibia bone punched through the skin of her calf, not twisting her arm and feeling knitted scars where the bones ground together excruciatingly.

And above all else she’s not resting her hand on the barely there bump on her stomach, the bump invisible and hidden beneath a loose blouse and trench coat. Invisible to everyone that doesn’t know her and Ethan’s secret.

———

The first mission wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was supposed to be easy and wonderful and the start to the greatest partnership of his life.

So of course, like everything else in his life, it went to shit in 5 minutes.

He and Ilsa had never exactly named the thing between them, except that it was theirs. He didn’t tell Benji and Luther (although greatly suspected Luther knew and Benji was suspicious), and Ilsa being a free agent didn’t have anyone to tell. They were each others greatest secret, greatest weakness, greatest compromise. Because they did compromise each other. There was no question after they’d saved each other so many times, sacrificing the mission for them. The Thing started simply - after handing Lane off to MI6 a week spent in London exploring each others bodies carefully around broken ribs and bruised necks (and how he had enjoyed adding his marks to her neck and having her hands lovingly caressing the broken parts of him) telling stories and sharing the private, secret parts of themselves no one else knew - then a night Cape Town, a weekend in Moscow, six hours in Brussels, two days in Paris, traveling 8 hours to spend 4 hours in her hotel room in Athens. Whenever they could and their schedules overlapped enough, or if they even happened to be in the same time zone, they were together.

After Julia, he didn’t think he’d ever feel this way about another woman.

Any chance he could he’d pull her into his missions. Anything to have her by his side. So when Brandt told him Sloane had given him the approval to extend the offer of a permanent position with the IMF - with Ethan’s team - to Ilsa he was perhaps the happiest he’d ever been. The two of them together - partners - properly, permanently.

He never thought he’d be considering marriage again either.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when it fell apart. The plan failed. His backup scenarios ran out. There were no more moves, no more chess pieces. So when he wrecked and went down, Ilsa dying in his earpiece, Benji too late and too far away to save her, a part of him, all hope, died with her. When he saw his pursuers approaching he was relieved, he’d never been so ready or willing to meet death than in that moment. To go where Ilsa would be waiting for him. He was already halfway there, a piece of rebar in his chest, internal injuries too numerous to catalogue, his leg didn’t feel right, arm wouldn’t lift. Ethan closed his eyes, ready for the bullet that would end his life. He certainly hadn’t expected them to take him alive, put him in the hospital, and get him just healthy enough he’d survive the torture. Survive he did, but not as Ethan Hunt. As something else, a shell of a human. All hope lost. No prayer of rescue. He knew he was disavowed and no help would be coming. He kept his mouth shut and took what they gave him. Didn’t utter a word except for the screams and shouts when it became too much. He’d already failed everything and everyone else. He couldn’t fail here. Couldn’t stand to betray his country on top of it all.

So when his captors told him he was being traded for goods more valuable than him, he knew he had to end it or escape. He couldn’t do this indefinitely. Eventually he’d break and the shell would crack and he’d be human again. So he plotted and planned, and when they came for him he knew what he had to do. His final plan, the one to end it all.

[triplesilverstar]

Early morning lessons

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI 

Pairing: Knives X F!Reader

CW: Dom/Sub undertones, P in V sex, clothed sex, riding, cream pie 

Word count: Roughly 2.3K

A/N: Chapter Eleven of the series, Where Knives shows you how to play the piano. And in true me fashion nothing is ever in order. 

When you’d woken up that morning after staying the night at Nai’s apartment you’d been unsure where he was when you stumbled from his bedroom on wobbly legs. Wrapped in one of his t-shirts not able to find your own clothes from the night before the fabric clinging to your thighs and you were hopeful that Legato wasn’t there for an early morning meeting. 

If he saw you like this you’d be nothing but mortified. That and the blue haired man would never let you live it down, an excuse to throw your name around in the dirt. Well throw it around more than usual. 

While you slowly walk, legs throbbing you hear it, the sounds of a piano. He must be in the music room. Really it was more of a spare bedroom and held his piano and his music player, a beautiful vinyl player that the first time he used it you were certain the sound waves had made your bones rattle. 

A hand gently pushing the door open you’re gifted with a side view of him in his lounge pants, hands skillfully pressing against the ivory keys. A flick of his eyes towards you, and a hint of smile gracing his features as you approach. 

When his eyes flick down towards the bench beside him you get the hint, taking a seat beside him while he keeps playing and you find yourself relaxing as the melody soothes your mind.

Watching you find yourself swallowing, the way his fingers glide across the keys, and you’re reminded just how skillful he is with those fingers. Finishing the piece, and you don’t miss the fact there isn’t any sheet music in front of him, he turns his head closing the distance to press his lips against yours. 

A soft press that still makes your heart flutter in your chest, the tip of his nose sliding along your own after he breaks away. “Good morning Pet.” His voice is low, almost soft in your ear but it still carries that edge always simmering beneath the surface.

“Good morning” humming as instead of just pulling away he moves his head so his lips slide along your cheekbone and you giggle, skin tingling. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” If you were anyone else, the delivery of his question would have made you wonder from his flat tone if it was just him making conversation. But, you know better. He doesn’t waste time on empty platitude. 

“Legs are a little sore, but otherwise good.” A nod at your words and a large palm placed against your upper thigh a gentle squeeze. “How about you babe?” Moving closer you rest your head on his shoulder, hands moving to wrap around his upper arm even if the movement is a little awkward. 

“Pleasant. Perhaps a bit nostalgic” removing his hand from your thigh and making a movement to disentangle your hold on him. Before that arm is reaching out to wrap around you and pull you closer to his side.Smiling you wrap your now free arms around his bare middle. 

Fingers tracing the pattern of the intricate tattoo along his side. With the way you’re pressed your head is resting near his heart, listening to the steady slow beat under your ear almost lulling you back to sleep again. His voice breaking you from your sleepy state “can you play?” 

“No. I can read sheet music but music was never my thing, and my hands are too small for the piano.” Head tilting to look up at him and meeting his eyes, he always looks so handsome when his hair isn’t slicked back, the locks fluffy and you want to run your fingers through it. 

“Stand up for a moment, Pet” confused and unwrapping your arms from around his middle you stand just behind the bench. Watching him stand and your eyes follow the shift of his chest at the muscles flex and clench. One of your favorite things to watch when he’s hovering over you. 

Bench closer he sits down with his legs spread and farther back on the bench, patting the space between his legs. Curious you sit between his legs, feeling him press his chest against your back. Hands coming to rest on your shoulders. 

“Relax” his breath makes your shiver as it washes over your ear, taking a deep breath you try to do as he asks. His hands slide down your shoulder along your upper arms, a soft smile growing on your face, as his hands keep descending, trailing along your forearms before graspings your hands. “Let me have control.” 

It’s hard, but you try to relax more, letting him move your hands and pressing them against the keys in front of you. Looking at his hands covering yours you giggle, his wide palms easily engulfing your own. Feeling the stretch as he presses his fingers against yours with enough pressure to control them. 

More pressure on your right index finger and you feel the key depress, the mallet hitting the sting and the single note ringing out. As the room goes silent you feel the uptick of his lips that is still pressed against your ear, it doesn’t take long before he’s using your hands to play a simple tune. 

“Your hands aren’t too small” his voice has a lilt of joy to it, and you laugh freely as he keeps playing. 

“I can’t reach most of the keys!” You can feel the chuckle through your back as he finds your argument amusing. 

“Yet, you’re playing. Even if it is under my direction. I want to teach you” there is something in his voice that makes you pause and tense up, which he notices right away. “Are you alright?” 

“Yea just. You’ve never offered to teach me something you care about so much” leaning forward so you can turn your head and look at his face. 

Instead of a neutral expression he has an almost wistful smile on his face. “Perhaps I’m feeling nostalgic. I used to play with my brother, and this morning, with you I’ve realized I miss sharing that with another person.” 

It makes your smile grow, a shared insight into his mind which you weren’t expecting. Gently pulling your hands from his and standing to turn, feeling his hands come to rest on your hips while you give in to the earlier temptation to run your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how well i’ll learn or how good i’d be, but I’d love to try and play with you.” 

A smile and he’s pulling you back into his lap and you end up straddling him on the bench “trying is enough.” Eyes flicking to your lips and you close the distance leaning towards him, quick open mouth kisses as you each chase one another trying to pull away. 

His hands rolling your hips above his and you can feel him getting hard beneath you, the other fabric between you his lounge pants which are quickly tenting. Giggling you lean closer, nose nuzzling his and feeling your breaths intermingle “wanna have a quickie on your piano bench?” 

 A light nip “I do” dragging a hand from his hair and letting it follow the muscles of his body down to the hem of his lounge pant pushing the loose band away to grasp his cock. “Such a good girl, taking charge once in a while.” 

You laugh while giving him a few pumps “this is the first time you’ve let me take charge.” Lining him up with your slit, and rubbing his head in your wetness before lifting your hips more, which are still under his control.

“You’ve ridden me before” pressing his head more against your opening and starting to lower yourself and taking him in making your both hiss in pleasure. 

Removing your hand from around his cock and returning it to his hair “Never. Unless you’re confusing me with your other girlfriend.” You try to tease him as you take a bit more of him, watching his eyes narrow. 

“I’m aware you’re joking, but I don’t appreciate it.” He’s slowly taking more and more control from you with the way he moves you using your hips. Setting a leisurely pace for the two of you “I’m certain you’ve ridden me in the past.” 

At that you move your hands so they’re wrapped around the back of his neck “Babe, you have never let me have control, that was part of our agreement when this started. Even right now, I said a quickie and you’re slowly fucking me by using my hips.” You close the distance once more and press your forehead to his. “I’d remember if you let me ride you.” 

A slow blink of his eyes as you stare into them and feel him pause your movements, keeping himself warm inside you. “Do you want control, Pet?” You give a hard swallow, something in his voice leaving you surprised.

You think for a moment before answering voice hopeful “just this once. I prefer when you leave me breathless.” 

A nod and a tender kiss before his grip loossens. “Then, take the moment to leave me the breathless one. Tell me what you want.” Closing the distance and going for a longer kiss you smile against his lips feeling him return your affection. Hands moving so they’re pressed atop his shoulders. 

“Keep me steady, please” as you break away you start to move using his shoulders as leverage, feeling a far more gentle grip on your hips. It’s not long before you’re panting as you ride him, relishing the feeling as he twitches inside you. Knowing it won’t be ripped away since he’s left you in control. 

As you move faster and faster he’s groaning as well, arms moving to wrap more around your waist and burying his face in your chest. “That's it, Pet. My precious dove, you make me feel so good.” 

That makes you clench, feeling your own body shudder as you feel yourself growing warmer as you ride his thick cock. “You’ve called me that before.” You’re panting hard, grip getting tight on his shoulders and you gasp when he pulls away to lift your borrowed shirt to shove his face against your skin.

His breath is warm across your sensitive skin and you don’t know how long you’ll last. “I have, because you are my dove, my sweet little dove. You treat me so well.” As you take him deep you hear his breathing stutter, a sign he’s close. “Did you know, some doves mate for life?” He’s kissing the skin closest to the center of your chest ignoring your nipples, chasing his own release without taking control from you. 

“Nai. I’m not gonna last” you can’t bring yourself to answer him about the dove thing, brain going haywire. You know in a few more rolls of your hips you’re going to cum around him, body no longer riding up and down on him. Just a roll of your hips as your clit keeps hitting part of his body hovering at the edge. 

“Do you want me to finger you to finish?” At least he doesn’t keep going with the dove thing but you find yourself panting out a yes, him quickly adjusting to rub his thumb against your clit. It throws you over the edge almost immediately, vision going white as you spasm around him. 

A hiss, and a gasp of your name, knowing from his grip your release triggered his own. “You are so good dove.” You don’t answer him right away, enjoying your post orgasm high. 

“So. Was that dove question a proposal?” You tease, fingers digging into his shoulder and somewhat annoyed his face is still inside his shirt you’ve borrowed. 

“You’ll know when I propose.” You laugh, setting your chin on his fabric covered head “and when I do, I’m going to ensure you can’t leave my bed for a week.”

Back to masterlist

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Hail Hydra - Chapter Eleven “Vision without integrity is not mission – it's manipulation.”

Bucky gets to his new home, and is treated with surprising tenderness- until he isn't. Prompts fulfilled; - 'If I Wanted You Dead' and 'Wants a Prize for Basic Decency' - @multifandom-flash (Double); - 'It's Okay to Cry' - Multifandom Flash (Dozen); - 'Ghosts Hide Better When It's Snowing' - Winter Wonderland Bingo (@seasonaldelightsbingo); - 'Blizzard' - Winter Wonderland Bingo; - 'Made a Slave' - Multifandom Flash (Beehive). CW: Violence, slavery, implied risk to life.

Divider by @firefly-graphics! Read the full chapter below, or on AO3 here. Boards at the bottom!

The truck ride eventually became a flight at a private, unspectacular airfield – the plane so small and rickety that a lesser man would have been inconsolable. A distant part of my brain absently wondered where we were going, but I was so focused on the feeling soaking back into bones that I barely cared.

If they keep up the heat, they can do what they like.

I hadn’t been truly warm in longer than I could remember. The room I had been moved to had been marginally less frigid, but I’d still never truly thawed out – but sat with my hands cuffed together in the back of a seven-passenger plane, I had my head resting against the back of the seat, eyes closed with pleasure at the returning sensation in my skin.

But there was a definite downside to being able to feel my body again.

The plane hit another air pocket, the turbulence shaking the craft ominously, and I winced.

“Nervous flier?” the Lieutenant asked, smirking when I opened an eye an inch to consider him.

“No, Sir,” I replied softly, raising my head to position myself more respectfully. “Not at all.”

“You winced.” When I only nodded, he frowned, turning more fully to face me. “Why?”

I flexed my fingers thoughtfully, taking a moment before responding, hissing quietly at the stiffness. “I… I heal quickly now. I’m not sure why. I broke many bones under the doctor, and they healed quickly, though most did not heal correctly. I didn’t notice too much with the cold, but now…” I grimaced minutely, watching the bones of my hand shift in unnatural ways in response to the pull of tendons and muscles.

He nodded once, taking a long drag from a cigar, considering me quietly. “We’ll clean you up, Asset. Don’t you worry.” I hesitated nervously, and he grinned again, wide and quietly alarming. “If I wanted you dead, Soldat, you already would be. It’s in our vested interests to keep you alive. There’ll be no mindless torture here.”

The look on his face – something akin to pride – implied he felt he was owed some form of prize for his basic decency; with how I’d been treated since my capture so far, I’d be likely to give him one, if I had any possessions of my own left. Even the boots now encasing my feet had never been my own, and the uniform I found myself clad in was HYDRA black, a skull with octopus legs adorning the cuffs.

I never thought I’d so miss the standard army greens.

That thought had me longing, lost in thoughts of the streets of Brooklyn, of the pancakes on Sunday that my mother used to scrape all week to afford, of running wild with Steve and trying to keep him safe despite his boldness-

But the Lieutenant was still staring at me, clearly waiting for a response, an expression of gratitude.

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied quickly, ducking my head graciously. “I-I’m very pleased to hear that.”

“You will be of great use to us, Asset,” he murmured as he settled back into his seat, steel eyes finally moving away from me. “You have a very important future.”

His words resounded ominously around my head as he stared aimlessly at the clouds passing by the window, a sense of profound fear settling in my chest.

What could this Soviet organisation possibly have planned for me?

I was bundled off the plane and onto the back of a snowmobile, grasping tight to the handle behind me – as much as he seemed far less vicious than the last man who seemed to hold my life in his hands, I wasn’t inclined to touch onto anyone right now, especially in a somewhat intimate manner.

The white wasteland was seemingly endless around us, stretching as far as I could see as we hurtled over it, the line between land and sky blurred.

I almost didn’t notice the gradually increasing disruptions to the landscape; beginning as small rocks, we were soon weaving between boulders as large as myself, dark and ragged against an eternal white.

We began to slow, and I looked around, brow furrowing. “We’re- there’s nothing here?”

The Lieutenant turned his head to glance at me from the corner of his eye as he raised his goggles, frowning minutely. “No HYDRA operation would be so easily found.” He climbed from the vehicle, shrugging a holdall over his back. The bag had appeared with him as he first joined us in the truck, presumably having been found in the alpine compound, but I had no idea what it held – only that it appeared to be quite light, given the ease with which he maneuvered it.

I fell into step behind him silently, my gaze automatically scanning for any possibility of escape. While the Lieutenant seemed noticeably kinder than the doctor, I still harboured a deep concern about what exactly they had in store for me. They had seemingly hunted me quite avidly, and their interest in my survival was somewhat ominous.

He lead the way to a heavy door nestled within a rocky outcrop, guiding me silently into a bleak corridor, several soldiers following behind. I was hyperaware of the guns at my back, silent and warning despite their apparently relaxed nature; I knew these men would not hesitate to take me out if they thought I was a risk.

The building descended and twisted in a multitude of ways, and I was hopelessly lost before we finally came to a halt. The soldiers marched on at a barked word from their Lieutenant, never even glancing my way as they passed by. Lebedev’s eyes turned to me, showing no emotion as he offered me a toothy smile.

“This is your room. This is where you will be unless otherwise instructed.”

His palm pressed to the heavy metal door, and I swallowed dryly at the thick window in the top of the door, a small hatch below. It was far too familiar, far too similar to the one I’d been kicked and dragged through for the last several months for my comfort. I could only nod, fear seizing my throat, as he slid back the bolt.

No opportunity to wander if I ever wanted to, then. A prisoner. Again.

He led me inside, and my relief was palpable at the somewhat-comfortable temperature, the sight of an actual bed – albeit with a metal frame, but the mattress was more than a thin pad, at least – and a threadbare carpet on the floor, in place of cold stone.

I looked around in surprise, and he nodded me forward, inviting me to explore the space. My fingers trailed gently over the sheets, the idea of wrapping myself up and burrowing between them offering me some modicum of comfort. Hand flexing automatically, I grimaced minutely at the ache in my bones, turning back to the Lieutenant to find his gaze still on me. “I- Thank you, Sir,” I stammered quickly as his eyes narrowed minutely, relief flooding my body when he relaxed.

“We’ll sort your bones before we let you get situated. You’ll be more comfortable.”

The pain of having half my bones broken and reset was agonising, strapped down to a table and staring into a bright light as one finger after another were snapped and realigned.

“I’m sorry,” the Lieutenant murmured with a thin smile, leaning into my eyeline. “We’d give you anaesthetic, but with your metabolism, you’d burn it off before you ever felt the effects, you see.” His smile grew a little wider as I winced when my wrist was snapped back. It took a high degree of effort to break my bones, my entire body jerking in the process, and the straps around my body chafed against my once-more bare skin. “It’s okay to cry,” he murmured soothingly, an unidentifiable edge to his voice that send a tremble down my spine. The feeling of my bones being manipulated had brought tears to my eyes, but I was blinking them back fiercely, refusing to let a single one fall in front of these people. His hand gently smoothed over my hair, and the surprise made my eyes widen, a single tear trailing down my cheek, eliciting a grin from the Lieutenant as he brushed it away with his thumb. “See? It’s okay. Nobody will judge you.”

The men around me grew still for a heartbeat, their anxiety palpable. Something about the look in his gaze made my stomach contract, nausea flooding through me for reasons I couldn’t quite identify. He seemed nice enough, but something felt amiss.

By the time my restraints were undone, I was aching in new ways, but feeling far more aligned than I had in a while, the breaks already starting to heal in more natural positions. I sat up slowly, grimacing, flexing my fingers experimentally with the eyes of the room on me. “It… Feels better. Thank you.” I spoke tentatively, still distrusting their motivation, gaze on my hands as I tested their movement. The Lieutenant nodded and he jerked his head at me, gesturing for me to follow him, and I got nervously to my feet as sweat pooled in my palms.

What now?

I was led into a room with enormous windows, overhanging an ominous cliff and with a view further than I could see through the swirling snow that had begun to fall while they worked on me. I shivered as the Lieutenant shut the door behind us, and he smiled tightly as he circled around to the front of me.

“You’re probably wondering what we intend to do with you, yes?”

“I… Yes, Sir…” I admitted quietly, my voice shaking minutely with nerves. This room felt too large, and I was too vulnerable, my nudity and tender extremities exposing my every weakness. The blizzard raged on through the glass, battering against the barrier in a furious attempt to overtake the warm room, and I thought briefly of the winter camo I’d seen the Soviet soldiers equipped with in battles further north.

 “You are the result of Arnim Zola’s experimentation,” he began, circling me slowly. I watched him briefly before moving my gaze to the snowstorm, refusing to appear perturbed despite my vulnerability; there was only the two of us here. If it came to blows, I would win – even if I would never escape this compound alive afterwards. “During your time in Austria, Zola tested his own serum on you. And a few others, but they died before they could be of use.” Another wolfish grin, and my muscles contracted instinctively, barely biting back a growl at his dismissive tone.

They were my brothers.

He raised an eyebrow at my tightened posture, and I forced myself to relax, though my tongue still pressed to the roof of my mouth in an effort not to snap. “When you were liberated by the so-called Captain America, we-” The snark in his voice had made an irrepressible scoff rise in my throat, and his head jerked around as he paused, fixing his steel eyes on me. “Is there a problem?”

“Captain America is twice – no, ten times the man you will ever be. You’d be lucky to-” My words died in my throat as his palm found my cheek, my skin stinging at the impact as my eyes widened in surprise.

“Captain America is a stain upon this world. The Americans do not deserve such power. But worry not, we plan to eradicate him before long.” I hissed and moved closer, fingers clenching into a fist by my side, but he simply raised an eyebrow, stepping back a half-inch to aim his gun at my chest. “Rein yourself in, Asset. You are valuable, yes. But we have succeeded once before, and we could succeed again. You are not irreplaceable, and I will not hesitate to put you down if I need to.” I took a slow step backwards at the seriousness in his eyes, my will and resistance still shaken by my time in captivity. “That’s a good boy. Get on your knees.”

I hesitated, and his hand found my hair, roughly forcing me to kneel until my palm hit the floor. “We will not mindlessly torture you here. But you will obey, or you will be punished.” He leaned over me, his voice soft as he whispered in my ear. “And believe me – I can hurt you far more than the doctor. I know all about you, Asset. I know exactly how far I can push you without doing permanent damage, and I am more than willing to utilise that knowledge to its fullest extent at the slightest provocation.”

I swallowed dryly, fury and humiliation making my muscles tremble.

Decision time. Fight, or forfeit.

I thought of the countless winding corridors and endless armed men, and a single tear dropped to the concrete behind my hands. Before all this – and even at the start of my original captivity – I’d have tried to fight, choosing death over servitude.

But now… I knew how to play this game. I knew how to survive, even if I was barely alive. I could hope that one day this would be over.

Steve wouldn’t leave me here. One day he’d find out I was alive, and he’d come for me. I just had to survive in the meantime.

“Yes, Sir,” I murmured to the ground, soft and broken.

He scoffed softly, hand tanging in my hair, pulling me upright on my knees to meet his eyes. “There. Was that so hard?” He moved to a low table, humming under his breath as he fiddled with unseen items, but I kept my gaze forward, staring with unfocused eyes into the swirling, swaying white. “There’s something you should understand. Are you listening?” He moved to squat in front of me as I nodded, drawing my eye to his. “James Barnes has been dead since the moment HYDRA serum entered your veins. His animated corpse just took a little while to catch up. But that fall from the train made certain his demise.” His hand grasped my chin roughly, a vicious smile on his face. “You are the Asset. The Winter Soldier. A ghost, a spectre… An assassin, one day, when we have you trained. The first of many,” he added, a genuine edge to his smile, seemingly proud of this idea. My gaze flicked back to the snow, thinking again of those Soviet soldiers in their white camouflage.

Ghosts hide better in the snow.

His fingers shifted to my throat, pushing my head back. I winced with realisation as heavy metal latched around my neck, blindly staring at the plain ceiling, wondering distantly what had happened to my life. I used to live a comparably luxurious life, cock of the walk back in Brooklyn, hanging around with Stevie and not having my life threatened on a daily basis. Now… I was collared and naked, knelt before this man who intended to use me as a slave.

I had to survive this. No matter how hard it was. No matter how much I wanted to die.

I had to survive this.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 32 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Aftermath - Kao

One look at hCyrus' face when I enter the office almost sends me running but I hold my ground, steeling my expression.

He's at the window, impressively jacked arms crossed as he takes in my state.

I'm still in my leathers, splattered in blood.

When his eyes reach my face, they harden when they take in the damage.

When he doesn't speak, I decide the break the silence.

"Look, I-I know you may be upset that I snuck out..."

"I am not upset, Koa," Cyrus walks to the desk, calculated and slow.

He braces his arms on it, still standing and I gulp at the prominent veins running down them, how the muscles flex and tense.

"I'm fucking pissed."

'Oh, shit.'

"Cyrus, I only wanted to help. I figured, you've been training me, so..."

"Training you to defend yourself, in the case that I'm not there to protect you," he grits his teeth, the words coming out low and dangerous.

'Oh, he's pissed? But now, I'm the pissed one, here.'

"Well, I don't need your protecting all the damn time. You... you don't get to control what I do or don't do."

His jaw flexes, shooting me an icy cold glare with those eyes.

"Except that I do, when it comes to your safety. I am your Alpha..."

'He did not just pull the Alpha card.'

"I don't want an Alpha that pulls this shit. I'm not your fucking pet you get to keep locked away when you decide," my voice raises in pitch, heat from anger flooding my cheeks.

"I saved someone that would be gone if not for me disobeying your oh-so-mighty orders. Hear that? I lessened the death count."

He turns away from me, fists clenched at his sides.

"Or you could have been on it, Koa. That man was on top of you, ready to kill or take you off and do unspeakable things to you."

"But he fucking wasn't going to because I had him. You barged in right before I could make the killing blow, asshole."

He whips around with a growl.

"And was that really something you were prepared for? To have another's blood on your hands? To take a life?"

"I had to fight. I had to. You're being so unreasonable..."

"ENOUGH," he shouts, the sheer volume and aggressiveness of it chilling me to the bone.

"You never fucking listen. Do you have no respect for me as your mate? I try to keep you from harms way and your first thought is to put yourself right back in it. I could have lost you, Oliver could have lost his mother. Instead of acting like an insolent brat, think of the consequences of your damn actions for once."

I'm frozen... stunned into a silent, motionless statue.

Cyrus just... completely let loose on me.

He's never yelled at me.... never shouted with that much anger.

I don't know this Cyrus and just like that, I start to cry.

Like a little bitch, I burst out in tears in front of the last person I'd ever want to.

The whole thing... a hot face, trembling lip, scrunched chin... it's atrocious.

It's his turn to be shocked.

Still reeling from his outburst, he looks at me, eyes wide as the fury on his face goes down a notch.

I've never cried in front of him before and definitely not the kind where big, fat, ugly tears stream down your face like waterfalls.

I'm so mortified, so ashamed of myself and what he said and suddenly it's all too much.

The attack, Beau, Morgan possibly being dead, now Cyrus, the one person I want to impress more than anyone in the world, being angry and disappointed in me instead.

I turn and bolt through the office doors.

"Koa, wait," Cyrus calls after me but I ignore him.

All I can hear now is the rapid beating of my heart and my broken sobs that shake my entire body.

If he's following after me, I wouldn't know.

I run out of the pack-house, my tears cooling on my face in the frigid night air.

It's busy outside, everyone still recovering from the attack.

I don't care if they see me.

I sprint to the hospital.

My brain doesn't even make the decision, my feet do.

They take me all the way to the entry.

A sobbing, pathetic mess, I beg the guards at the doors to let me in.

"Please. I need to... I need to see Morgan. Just let me see if he's alive, please," I choke out the words between trembling cries and the pity in their eyes tells me I've won.

They let me in after sharing a look and I'm told which room Morgan is in, to which I quickly make my way.

I can barely see, vision blurry from tears but I finally find the room number, about to go in when I hear soft, murmuring voices on the other side of the slightly cracked door.

[eldieablo]

Open Back

It’s so gross. It’s so gorey. It’s so good. Shhh Ricky, let the grownups handle this. Ricky sat back and watched Nino Beto sit up on the main table of the back kitchen, shirtless. We, the whole family, wait patiently as he flexes his muscles in the rising eye of the morning. Open back surgery in the back kitchen. Eee wow, what a life. A big mail slot of skin spread right over his backbone, just one line. Nino Beto hasn’t had surgery in a while so his back had to be reopened, in which the white scar tissue was broken in one straight incision down his back. He inhaled. He exhaled. The curtains of his flesh began to pull apart for open back surgery. His back opened in the shape of a football. No, sling stone. No, Guam Seal. And in this open hole in Nino Beto’s back, the backbone can be seen walking step by step with its stubby, little bone legs like a bone centipede. Normally one would see the muscles that are stuck to the bones of the ribcage. But not us. Not you. Not me. We can detach them if we want to for easy access to the insides. This slingstone shaped hole in his back got bigger like a mouth at the dentist’s office, held open by canopy bungee cords, and hooks. Very Hell-Raiser. Ricky went over to where his dad was. Right over Nino Beto’s gaping cavity. He could see every organ. What did I tell you, son? Um, Diaphragm & Spleen Left Hypochondriac Region? Right, my boy. Young Ricky proceeded to name all the quadrant regions of the back to which organs resided there. ...Cecum & Appendix Right Inguinal Region. Yes! Great job, son! Remember to make sure not to fall in, ok? It’s very important to me you listen to me ok, Ricky? Okay? Ok. Can y’all hurry it up? I’m exposed here. And don’t forget my boy, in-between the ribs, still sensitive. Ricky’s Dad swirled a feather in between Beto’s ribs and he burst out laughing. Quit it! Quit it! Sorry Påri, couldn’t help it. Where is it again? It’s my foot. Tumor. You know you’re gonna stretch further for that, right? I know. Beto looked down and closed his eyes. We’re all here for you Påri. Take your time. He lifted his legs both on top of the long main table to lie on his belly. He bent his elbows and knees. No. He’s not. Is he? He is! Nino Beto’s open back started to stretch in horizontal lines across the shoulder blades, upper arms, butt, and thighs then vertical lines went down the forearm and legs. Then extremely wide lines stretched his hands and feet open in the shape of forks in four fingers. Opening the thumbs would make the skin fall off like a leaf. Skin pulled open to reveal the insides, tiny cubic bones that make up the hand. Revealing tendons, white, wispy, spider web-tendons. His open palms. He was doing it! He’s doing it! He’s making a cave-drawing! A Petroglyph! There it is Dad! He used a tweezer to pluck out the big clump of cells in Beto’s foot. Blue. You better not try anything again, Påri. You’re stale buh-lale, pår. Great eye my boy! What’d I tell y’all? He’s my good-luck charm. He found Mom’s Breast-Cancer, Tun Caesar’s Diabetes, Erica’s Goiter, Påle’s Heart Disease, Heart Problems, “Heart of hearing,” Isa’s Pacemaker, Georgia’s High Blood Pressure, everyone’s bad lungs, hearts, organs, the list goes on! Rich’s Dad put him up on his shoulder. That’s my boy! What do we say Ricky Boy? Not no problem! Tåya’ Guaha! That’s right my boy, go ahead inside and pick an ice keke. While he stayed inside, he watched the Incredible Hulk on TV, slurping on a green ice keke, dreaming it’s the same formula the Hulk took. Pår, you know the drill. Go get some rest. The whole family walked back. Nino Beto walked back inside to find Ricky Boy on the floor. Hey my boy, what are you doing? Beto’s back hurt like hell. Just watching TV, Nino. He needed to sleep so his open back can close up, as usual. Can you step on my back? So I can fall asleep? Sure thing, Nino. Ricky stepped on Beto’s back for a good twenty minutes until he fell asleep. And whenever you sleep with an open back, it always snores like a mouth. So in one quick sucking breath, Ricky fell into the open back. Dad! Dad! Nino! Son! Ricky! Ricky! Beto! And when Beto woke, he was sealed shut forever.

[metalbuckaroo]

505

Summary: "Stay this time."

Warnings: age gap, (reader is 24, Bucky is 38), smut, light praise kink, the slightest hint of a breeding kink (literally mentioned once), angst, 18+ only

AU: Dadsbestfriend!Bucky x Fem!Reader

AN: This is my first time writing for dbf!bucky, hopefully it turned out pretty nicely. I also hope that I did this request justice, it played out a lot better in my head.

This is based on this ask and the song 505 - Artic Monkeys

MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

'Can I come over?'

You stared at the screen of your phone. Thinking over the four words that stared back at you.

Four words that held so much meaning, but, at the same time, didn't mean anything. The ones you told yourself that you wouldn't answer anymore. The last time was just that, the last time.

But, you still wanted more. More of the rush that was Bucky Barnes and definitely more than what he wanted. More than what those four words promised.

A few hours of intoxicating touches, then he was gone; sometimes leaving something of his, so he'd have a reason to come back.

You wanted to say no, it would save you more heart ache if you did. But just the thought of Bucky made you press your thighs together and gnaw on the inside of your cheek.

Just as you had expected when you didn't answer, his face and name lit up the phone; calling this time.

"Yeah?" You said when you answered. "I'm in town and missin' you. Can I come over?" The husky tone of his voice sent a shiver that went straight to your core, only adding to the anticipation. "Yeah, of course." You exhaled

Your stomach churned from the nerves, waiting for the sound of familiar footsteps outside of your apartment door before it was being shoved open by Bucky's shoulder.

"Should really fix that. Safety Hazzard." He laughed, pushing it closed before taking long strides to where you were leaned against the kitchen counter. "Missed ya, sweet girl. You haven't been around all week." He purred, placing two cool fingers under your chin to lift your head; pressing a simple kiss to your lips.

You just stood there, making Bucky pull away with a confused look. "What's wrong? You're usually jumping my bones by now?" He questioned, wondering where the fire in you every time he got you alone had went.

"Stay this time." You said softly, looking at him through your eyelashes. "I can't do that, Sugar. Your dad has a key-"

"He calls before he comes over." You said, cutting him off. "I thought this is what you wanted, just sex."

You shook your head and pushed his hands away from your waist. "No, I want more. But, you don't. That's the problem." You took a step away from him and his arms fell to his sides. "You're dad would kill me. Hell, he will kill me just for the last two months if he finds out."

You could feel the tears burning at your eyes. Even though you knew this is what was going to happen, you weren't truly ready for it to end. Bucky saw the pooling tears and reached out towards you.

"Just leave." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Wh- no, I'm not just gonna leave when you're crying. I-" His tongue jutted across his bottom lip, a hurt look etching across his face. "I'm done, James. I'm not a toy."

"I know you're not... You're not gonna tell your dad are you? He'll have my head on a platter."

You breathed a dry laugh, running a hand through your hair, aggravated with his reactions. "Fuck, no. Do I look stupid? Is that all that's mattered to you this whole time? How my dad would feel about you fucking his daughter? Not how it would make me feel?"

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't say anything that would stop the tears that were threatening to spill onto your cheeks. "Get out." You ordered, voice shakier than you'd hoped it be.

Bucky nodded, jaw clenched as he gave you what you wanted and jerked the door open, leaving you in silence as the tears fell to your cheeks.

He wanted it, more than anything he wanted to wake up next to you; to take you on real dates. That's why he took every chance he could to be around you, even steal kisses and touches when your dad would be just a few rooms over.

The heartbroken look on your face was all he could think of when he got to his car, fiddling with the keys in his fingers. He couldn't just let you go. He wouldn't.

The walk back to your door felt longer than before, hoping you'd let him back in as he lifted his hand to rap his knuckles against the door.

"I'll stay." He nodded when you opened the door, pushing his way in as he grabbed the sides of your face; his lips engulfing yours in a hungry, messy kiss that made your skin heat up.

Your hands pawed at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders as he fumbled with his belt. "Really?" You asked, leaning back to look at him. "Yeah, really." He huffed, bending down enough to lift you onto the kitchen counter.

"How could I want anyone else when I've had your sweet pussy, pretty girl." He cooed, tugging your underwear down your legs before shuffling his jeans down. "Just tell me you want it, and I'll give you anything. I'll even fuck a baby into you if it's what you want." He promised, eliciting a whimper from your chest when he buried himself in you with a guttural moan.

You don't think you'd ever truly get use to the stretch his girth caused, bucking your hips to tell him to move as you slipped your hands under his shirt to feel the flexing muscles; your lips attaching to the sweet spot at the base of his neck.

He found a pace that made your head feel fuzzy; short and hard, his tip brushing the sweet spot that was deepest in your walls.

Bucky's head buried in the crook of your neck, warm hand going up your shirt to knead the supple flesh of your breast as he drank in every vulgar sound the relentless thrusts pulled from you.

"Fuck- so close-" you mewled, nails dragging down his abdomen when he jerked your hips further off of the counter; fucking directly into the rough patch that knocked the breath from your lungs and sent you over the edge, stars blurring your vision.

"All mine, no one elses. Ok, sweet girl? No one else gets to fuck you like this." He panted, lifting his head to look at your blissed out face. You nodded, barely able to hear him, let alone answer. "Wanna hear you say it." He grunted through clenched teeth, thrusts becoming sloppy and fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"All yours." You whined, the feral look on Bucky's face nearly enough to set you off again. "Gonna cum again already? Can feel your milking me, sugar. Go ahead." He moaned, pressing a finger to your still sensitive clit as he chased his own orgasm with quick thrusts.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck!" You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as you released around him again. Bucky's hips stilled as he came with a low groan, each twitch of his cock painting your walls with his release; thrusting through both of your highs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he rested his chin on the top of your head, chests heaving and hearts pounding away as his hand trailed up your back to tangle in your hair; pulling it so you'd tilt your head back.

He had a lazy, yet cocky, smile on his face as he looked at you with hooded eyes. "Just don't tell your dad."

[hollandsmushroom]

What about doing the same thing to the reader like your last blurb but instead of push ups she's doing squats?

Mother Fucking Squats || T.H.

this is a sequel to Mouth Fucking Pushups(one of your guys' favorites it appears lmao)

Warnings: Smut 18+, mentions of fellatio, explicit descriptions of cunnilingus

Word Count: 1,641

You and Tom often worked out together, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and in fact it was an activity that the both of you enjoyed greatly, loving pushing each other and encouraging each other to do one more rep. There were times that the company had its downfalls, it was when his muscles looked too good underneath his shirt, much like that night a couple weeks ago when you had ended up on the floor beneath him with his dick buried deep in your throat as he did push ups, really the devolution into sex was the only downfall(if you could even call it that).

It was a beautiful Sunday and you and Tom were in your home gym, both dressed in your workout clothing which was alway something so alluring, Tom’s shorts accentuating his thighs and his tight spandex shirt showing every ridge of muscle that you wanted nothing more than to drag your teeth over, to lick the sweet sweat from his body as held his body above yours. Your mind flicking back to that night a couple weeks ago, the thought tempting you to drop your kettle bell and slide beneath Tom once again but he looked so determined, watching himself in the mirrored wall to maintain his proper form, or at least that what you thought Tom was doing, that's what it looked like to you.

In reality, Tom was watching your reflection, the way that the fabric of your legging stretched around your body as you hinged downwards into a squat, drawing your kettle bell up to your chest and letting it strike softly at the valley of your sternum, the only thing that Tom would think about was being the weight against your chest, pressing heated kisses between the mounds of your breasts, your skin sweet under his mouth. He could feel himself getting hard, the temptation for your body to be flush with his overwhelming to a point of no longer being able to fight it, dropping the dumbbell softly on the padded floor and pushing himself up into a standing position, walking over to you on his toes, careful to not make a noise louder than the music that was ringing through the room. The rounds of your ass looked so alluring to his chocolate eyes, the temptation to sink his teeth into the tensed muscle something that he had to actively fight, instead he opted to get in a position much like the one that you had been in a couple weeks ago, placing himself between your spread legs, looking up at your crotch.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?” you asked, stopping your movements, bending over and resting your weight on the ground, looking him in the eye, noticing the devilish glint that danced in his tree ring colored irises.

“Watching the show” his voice was playful but it was clear he was dead serious and had no intention of moving, he was going to stay there and watch how your body moved over his face, the smell of your cunt reaching his nose, enhanced by your exercise heated state, he was loving it.

“You are such a fucking boy” you giggled, returning to your work out, dipping lower so your ass was closer to Tom’s face, temptation getting the better of him as his poked your cheek.

“Correction, I am a boy who fucks” his voice was sultry, the poke turning into a full as grab before you pushed back up to a standing position, your breath having left your chest when Tom grabbed your ass so harshly.

“Are you gonna let me work out or are you gonna distract me” his hand was still on your ass, dipping down with you, following your motions.

“Haven’t decided yet” you didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smiling at you cheekily, his signature smirk that made you weak in the knees, and if you became weak in the knees now you would collapse on his face, maybe that is what he wanted. You continued going along with your squats, thighs tiring slightly as you exerted yourself. It was only about a minute later that Tom gives in, his hand that had stayed on your ass for the past minute gripping in, tugging down at the fabric until your ass was on full show, your movements having ceased as he worked to make you bare.

“Tom” you whimpered as he blew cool air on your bare cunt, dripping already from having watched him work out.

“Mhm, baby” Tom sighed, his hand running up your thigh, the side of his hand nestled in the pit between your inner thigh and your cunt, thumb dipping between your wet folds and softly tracing them, running across the ridges. “So wet,” he stopped, retracting his hand from your pussy and bringing his thumb to his lips, pressing onto his tongue and smearing your arousal across his tongue. “So sweet”

“Fuck Tommy!” your knees were shaking and he hadn't even really touched you yet, his hand was coming back up your leg but it stopped at your knee, breaking the brace you had been held in and forcing you to fall onto your knees, your cunt now hovering directly above his face.

“Reminds me of a couple weeks ago” he spoke purposefully breathy, the air fanning lightly across your hyper sensitive cunt, drawing a long plantiful whimper from your throat, your hands falling between your spread legs and raking their way through Tom’s sweaty curls, tugging from the root. You pulled so harshly his head came off the floor, forcefully burying him in your cunt, a groan escaping from his chest and vibrating through your core, an inadvertent delivery of stimulation to your clit, your back arching and head throwing back in a moan.

“Fuck fuck fuck” the cries of pleasure left your lips rapidly as his tongue snaked past his pleasure coated lips and beginning to lap at your clit, flexing his tongue as it flicked underneath the hood of your clit, savoring the way your body jolted every time he did. His arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling your as close to his face as possible, your lips spreading on his cheeks as he started to rock his head into you. His tongue left your clit, licking a hot stripe from the bundle of nerves to your entrance were he began to circle the clenched hole with his talented muscle, dipping into you and lapping up into you, his head moving with every thrust of his tongue, nose rocking against your engorged clit. It felt like heaven, there was no other way to put the sensation into words, it felt amazing and like pure euphoria.

Tom groaned something into your cunt but he was so deep in you that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, not that you would have been able to fully comprehend it even if you had, you were too lost in the dizzying amounts of pleasure that was running up your spine and winding tight in your belly.

“Oh Tom, fuck oh fuck, Tommy” You cried, your body falling forward and forcing your hands from his hair, bracing yourself on the floor, finger nails leaving crescent in the padding as your gripped into it. Your hips began to inadvertently grind against his face, riding it like you would his cock. The added pressure of your new position shoved his nose harder against your clit, the notch of his incorrectly set bone burning with friction against you as his tongue curled into your g-spot. Your toes curled with pleasure as your head fell forward, looking down to where Tom was buried and the sight of him, he messy hair and the arousal slickening your thighs and his cheeks sent you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you came on Tom’s tongue, hips stuttering against his face as you ceased ability to move, your whole body tensing as a cry of ecstasy left your lips. Tom carried you through your high, not letting up on his movement until you were shaking above him, your thighs quaking around his head as your moans turned to soft whimpers. He raised his hands, gripping your hips gently and pulling you from his face and helping you lay down next to him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you had been doing squats, his face glistening with your cum.

“That was a great post workout snack” Tom mumbled as his fingers dragged across your cheeks, gathering the rest of your cum and arousal on his fingers before pushing them between his lips and sucking them clean, not wanting any of your sweetness to go to waist.

“That was a great workout,” you sighed, your thighs shaking as you curled into his side.

“I'm sure it was, you were really working it against my face, my nose hurts” he joked, raising his hand up and playfully rubbing at it as if it was sore.

“Oh shut up” you groaned, swatting his chest as you buried your face in his neck, hiding from his teasing eyes.

“Hey hey, no none of that, I am just teasing” he mumbled, his fingers catching your chin and pulling your face from hiding, his eyes softened from their previous playful mirth. “I love you” the words came out as a whisper and your heart was pounding, it was not a new phrase to be exchanged between the two of you but it still made you glow to hear him say it.

“I love you too, Tommy” you pecked his lips, tasting hints of yourself in his mouth. You pulled back, your tone shifting to one similar to Tom’s previous teasing one “You give good head, how could I not love you”

♡Taglist♡

@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @spidey-sophie @thehumanistsdiary @itscaminow @marvelsbitch8 @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy @tomhollandlol @roseobx

[quindolyn]

Can I request a Sub! James Potter? Where he did something bad, and reader had to punish him, with some amazing aftercare afterwards?

Permission || James Potter

Word Count: 3016

A/N: This was also requested by @triciam06 and I hope you all enjoy it! I’m the biggest sucker for sub!James. His punishment isn’t anything too severe because I a) don’t think that James would ever break a rule more severe than the one he breaks in this piece and that’s because he’s the most obedient sub and b) I love him but he couldn’t take a hardcore punishment. 

Warnings: Mommy kink, sub!James, overstim, light punishment, aftercare

Masterlist

It was funny really, how easily you could get him off on your hand alone. Desperate to be your good boy James was trying his very best not to buck up into your hand as you lazily flicked your wrist up and down his shaft, your thumb occasionally brushing over the blushing tip of his weeping cock.

You dragged your eyes over his perspiring form, his strong hands balled into fists, clenching the soft material of the sheets in between his fingers. He had his back arched against the bed, messy black hair fanning out around his face which was flushed, painting his cheeks a pretty rosy pink. With tears swimming in his eyes, which were there from the tremendous effort he was putting into delaying his orgasm until you said he could cum, your Jamsie was the picture of obedience. 

Continuing your hand’s movements on his throbbing cock, a lopsided smirk caressed your face as you moved the hand not on his member to grope at your breast, it only seemed fair that you got to touch yourself as you watched this.

“M-Mommy,” He stuttered out, blinking up at you owlishly, his glasses were still perched atop his nose, but now resting crooked on his face. 

Your hand abandoned your breast, instead moving to correct his glasses, “On or off baby?” You cooed gently, gazing down at him adoringly, he was being such a good boy for you, not cumming until he was told he could. He always followed instruction so well.

“Off please,” James whimpered, turning his face so that you could more easily access his eyewear. 

“Such good manners,” You praised, folding the legs of the glasses in towards the lenses before you set them down on the nightstand table. In your efforts to discard his glasses you had to lean a bit meaning that James’ painfully hard prick slipped from the palm of your hand, slapping against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

You grinned wickedly at the small whimper that left his mouth, watching as he flexed his fingers you knew he was just desperate to get one of his hands on his cock, he was so close to cumming and the both of you knew it. 

“Aww baby,” You crooned, eyes never leaving his member, “It looks so pretty right there, lying on your tummy,” You extended a single finger, running it up the length of his prick, following a particularly pronounced vein, “Thinking that I might just let it sit there, be a shame to mess up something so pretty.”

“Mommy,” James sniffled, “Mommy please, I need your hand, I need to cum pretty please, I’ve been your good boy, I deserve to cum.”

You let out a dry chuckle, expertly recapturing his cock in your hand you resumed your hand’s motions on his length. Your movements were considerably quicker than they had been, as you tugged on his prick you tugged him closer and closer to his orgasm until the tears pooling in his eyes leaked out of the corners. Leaving twin trails down his temples as his pleading eyes stared into yours.

“You think you deserve to cum baby? You think you deserve for Mommy to let you make a mess all over her hand?”

“Uh huh,” He whined, squeezing his eyes closed as he nodded his head vigorously, James pulled the soft cushion of his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting harshly before releasing it in all of its swollen glory.

“I don’t know pretty boy, I think you can wait a bit longer, yeah? Be mommy’s good boy and wait till she tells you you’ve deserved it.” You countered.

Not satisfied with your answer James protested, “But Mommy-” But you quickly shut him up with a quick slap to the inside of his thigh. Not hard enough to actually hurt, just leave a pleasant stinging sensation as you rubbed your hand over the offending skin.

“Be quiet Jamie, you’ll cum when mommy says you can cum and not a fucking moment sooner,” A scowl formed on your face, evidence that you were not pleased with his contesting your ruling. Wanting to punish him for his not listening to you, you pulled even more harshly at his cock, wanting to get him so close to orgasm that he was but a subby puddle, ready to do your bidding. 

“Look at you,” You cooed, your voice now carrying slight mocking as traced a delicate finger along the planes of his toned abs, following the dips and ridges, watching as he shuddered under your touch. “So pretty like this, all splayed out for me, you look so beautiful baby, so beautiful.”

“Thank you Mommy,” James groaned, “Mommy’s pretty too.”

“Good boy,” You smiled, leaning over to smear a gentle kiss along his brow, never once releasing his cock from the confines of your hand. “But if you think flattery’s gonna make Mommy let you cum, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You took a sick delight in watching him writhe and whimper beneath you as you torturously denied him his orgasm until it was too much for him to take. 

His movements had him flailing around the bed as he tried so hard to listen to you, but he could feel the fire burning in his belly and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore, no matter how desperately wanted to.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum,” He screamed, bucking his hips into your hand, “I need to cum Mommy please, pretty please.”

“No,” You snipped, “Mommy’s already let you cum tonight baby, twice, no cumming until she says you can, you know the rules.” And you were right, you’d already allowed him to cum down your throat twice as you took him all the way to his pubic bone.

Your words didn’t seem to completely register with him as he continued to buck into your hand before eventually releasing his load, “Mommy I’m so sorry,” He screamed as he came on your hand, coating it in his sticky release. 

“I’m cumming, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He cried as his orgasm washed over him, completely overwhelming him in pleasure until he could barely even mumble out apologies. 

Watching as he trembled beneath you you continued jacking him off, using his cum as a lubricant, making it easier to move your hand along his shaft. 

“Baby,” You crooned, wiping the tears off of his face with the pads of your fingers.

“S’too much Mommy, too much.” His whines were positively pathetic as he pushed his hips into the mattress, trying to put distance between his cock and your hand.

A frown found its way to your lips, “But you came without permission love, can’t just let that go unpunished, what kinda Mommy would I be if I did?”

“I know,” He whined, shamelessly squirming, trying to get out of your hold, “I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

You understood that, you had edged him for the past hour or so and you weren’t sure if even you could’ve lasted that long but he didn’t get to cum without permission, he knew that. 

“Don’t wanna hear your excuses Jamie,” You were increasingly aware of how his oversensitive prick twitched in your hand, “I know it was hard baby but you know you’re not allowed to cum without permission don’t you?”

“Yes Mommy, I know.”

“You gotta take your punishment for me then baby,” You explained, moving your hand to tweak one of his nipples before pulling the sensitive bud between your fingers, where you then pinched them.

“P-punishment?” He stuttered out, his wide eyes, drowned in guilt, staring back up at yours. 

“Yes baby, punishment, you broke one of my rules didn’t you?” If only the boy lying in front of you knew just how much power he had over you. He wasn’t even trying, but just watching him get off was enough to flood your panties. 

“I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to be a bad boy,” He sobbed and the frankly pathetic tone of his voice as he apologized to you for the umpteenth time in the last couple of minutes was almost enough to make you relent, but not quite.

“I know my love, and you weren’t a bad boy, just a naughty boy,” What you did next counteracted the sweetness of your words as you poked your tongue out just enough to kitten lick the sensitive tip of his cock, taking immense delight as more cum leaked out of his prick. The taste of his seed was the usual perfect salty sweet blend it always was but something about that cum being, for lack of a better word, forbidden, made it taste all that much better. 

“J-just naughty? Not bad?” He pleaded with both his eyes and his words, needing the praise he was so used to.

“Just naughty.” You confirmed, releasing his prick for a moment before lightly slapping your open palm against it, reveling in the way his entire body jumped at the sensation. “Now Jamsie, you gonna take your punishment like a good boy, yeah?”

“Yes,” He forced out through gritted teeth.

“Yes who?”

“Yes, Mommy.” 

“That’s better,” You praised, continuing to overstimulate him, relishing the noises he made until whimpers turned into him bawling as fat teardrops raced down his face and down his neck.

“M’so sorry mommy, m’so sorry,” James cried shamelessly trying his best not to move.

“You were so eager to cum baby, just giving you what you wanted,” You condescended running your fingers through his locks once again to get a solid grip on them before yanking pulling a strangled moan from his lips. “Is this not what you wanted baby? Thought this was what you wanted when you came without my permission? Just giving you what you clearly want, now are you gonna be good? You said you would.”

In response you recieved a gasp as he released onto your hand again, somehow even more than last time. Feeling both selfish and wicked you bent forward, trading your earlier kitten licks for engulfing the entirety of the head of his cock, slurping on it as one would a lollipop. 

The moan that ripped it’s way out of his throat was pornographic as his sensitive cock was overstimulated by the feeling of your warm, velvety mouth wrapped around it. As you allowed his cock to rest against the flat of your tongue you noticed that his cries for you to stop, that he was sorry had quieted to muffled whimpers explained by the hand clamped over his mouth. 

The sight sent a surge of pride through you, here Jamie was being as obedient for you as ever because he knew what he had done was not okay. That he had broken Mommy’s rules, it was why he was so rarely punished.

Inhaling deeply through your nose you took him all the way down your throat so that the tip of his dick rested deep inside of your throat. You could feel him twitch inside of your throat and if it wasn’t the most amazing thing to feel that you didn’t know what was. Smiling around his length you decided that if his silence was anything to go by James had learned his lesson. Feeling merciful for the first time that night you swallowed around his cock, feeling him shoot what would be his last load of cum for the night down your throat. 

Once he was done you eased him from your mouth, careful to keep your teeth away from his softening length.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson baby?” You asked the ruined boy beneath you as you rose to your full height before bending at the waist to smear a kiss along his cupid’s bow.

Too fucked out to use his words James gave you a small nod, his eyes lids resting closed with his lips parted, taking deep inhales of breath as he recovered from his orgasms.

“Can you use your words for me?” You lilted brushing away the hair that couldn’t seem to stay out of his face.

After a deep inhale he did, “Yes Mommy, I’ve learned my lesson,” His voice was hoarse, he sounded parched and he probably was.

Easing him up so that he was leaning up against the headboard you plucked his glasses from the bedside table, beginning to ease them onto his face before you noticed how sweaty he was. Letting the glasses rest in your lap you pulled your wand from the drawer of the nightstand using it to summon a glass of water and a damp washcloth from the bathroom. 

Beginning with the cloth you wiped the sweat from his brow before tracing the damp fabric down the sides of his face, calming the heated skin as praise after praise tumbled from your lips. 

“Such a good boy for me Jamie, took your punishment so well my love.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” He was still breathless.

“Don’t need to thank me anymore my love, s’time for Mommy to clean you up, yeah? Gonna help you get cleaned up for bed.”

“M’not tired,” He insisted, though if his closing eyes were any indication, he most definitely was.

Suppressing a chuckle you laid the washcloth on his thigh to soothe the warm flesh there as you brought the perspiring glass up to his lips, easing them apart to allow the cool, sweet liquid to drizzle down his throat.

“There you go darling,” You eased the glass apart from his lips to set it down and replaced it with the cloth that you continued to trace his skin with, brushing it up and down his chest and stomach, careful to avoid his sensitive nipples.

“Glasses please,” He mumbled, his hand groping at your leg, “Wanna be able to see you.”

“Of course,” You smiled, balancing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose allowing the world to come back into focus for him as he smiled at you. “Can you take another sip of water for me, pretty boy?” You asked, slipping the glass into his hands, allowing them to bring it to his lips.

He did as you asked before holding the glass in between his legs, “Did I do a good job for you, Mommy?” He looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry I came without permission I just-”

“I know baby,” You cut him off gently, “You didn’t do it on purpose but Mommy still had to punish you, you understand right darling?”

He gave you a bashful nod.

“Good my love, it doesn’t make you any less of my good boy,” You gently reached for his member, handling it with the utmost care as you brought the wet cloth to it, knowing that it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience for him you were efficient in cleaning the cum off.

James hissed at the sensation, once again squirming to escape your grasp. “Gotta clean you up baby, be quick I promise,” And you were, not wanting to prolong his discomfort any further. 

As James took yet another sip from the glass, one he very much needed, you pushed yourself up from the bed, traipsing over to the dresser where you removed a pair of sweatpants for him and a pair of panties to wear with one of his t-shirts for you.

You offered to help him put on his pants but James insisted that he was fine, standing up to slip the pants over his feet before pulling the waistband up where your fingers found the cord, tying it in a loose bow. 

James’ body was malleable as the two of you settled into bed, with you curled into his chest you faced each other, drawing a single finger up and down his sternum. 

“I really am proud of you baby,” You whispered, feeling as though if you spoke too loudly then it would disrupt the peace that had settled over the room. 

“Just wanted to make you happy (Y/N),” He admitted quietly, his lips pressed into your scalp muffling his words slightly. 

Throwing an arm around his waist you pulled your body even closer to his allowing you to rest your head up against his chest so that you could listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart inside of his rib cage. 

The two of you laid there for so long, just absorbing the presence of the other person that you thought he must’ve fallen asleep for it was often difficult for the dark haired boy to stay silent for all that long. But as you pulled away slightly so that you could slip his glasses back off of his face so that he wouldn’t break them in his sleep you found hazel eyes staring back down at you.

“You’re not asleep,” Though your words were accusatory, your tone was not, more observational than anything.

“Neither are you,” Your boyfriend countered.

You giggled gently, “Touche.”

It was so easy to get lost in James’ eyes, that maybe you held eye contact for a few seconds, maybe for a few minutes, maybe for half an hour. But it broke as you let out a yawn, a give away to your state of exhaustion. 

“M’tired too,” James said, smiling at how beautiful you looked, even mid yawn.

“We should go to bed,” You reasoned, though your eyes locked back onto his.

“Uh huh, probably,” He agreed, he too not breaking eye contact.

And though you were both exhausted you laid there, in each other’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes, both of you refusing to be the one to shatter the intimacy of the eye contact and close your eyes first.

That was until James eyelids became too heavy with sleep for him to fight and they gently fluttered closed. Not a minute later he started emitting, soft snores and you knew he was asleep.

Craning your neck you pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose whispering to him softly, “I won.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete @reallyraunchyrory 

[l-r-christian]

Title: Heat

Warnings: Fluff, Smut,

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Witch!F!Reader

A/N: I was in a smutty mood and felt like simping dear sweet Elijah so here have this smut

Tag list: @just-another-writer-17

Hayley had Elijah's head in her lap as he was hit with a spell by a witch that got brave and attacked the Mikaelsons. The witch was killed by Klaus after she told them when Elijah wakes he'll give in his instincts and kill the woman he loves.

"Hayley, we need to get you out of here before Elijah wakes." Rebekah says but it was too late Elijah woke with a growled making Rebekah move quickly to push Hayley behind her as Klaus threw Elijah away from Hayley.

Elijah stood taking off his suit jacket and tie as his once warm chocolate eyes were dark with a look that they couldn't tell what it was. Hayley shivered as Elijah glaze held her in place there was a heat she couldn't explain.

"Elijah?" Klaus questioned watching his brother closely as Elijah looked them over letting out a low growl. Both Rebekah and Klaus stood ready then was when Elijah had just left.

"Where is he going?"

"Let's get Freya."

Y/N was stirring a potion for a spell she was working on feeling Elijah stepped up behind her nuzzling her neck. Y/N smiled turning her head kissing his cheek hearing his pleased growl.

"Hello my dear vampire. What brings......." Y/N paused feeling the magic coming off of Elijah and turned around. Y/N moved her hands over Elijah sensing the spell that was settled over him as he was kissing her neck.

"I see someone took one of my spells."

"I need you little witch." Elijah said his tone low and husky as his hands found their way under her skirt. Elijah pressed closer nipping at her neck as she bit her lip holding back her mewls.

"In a moment Elijah. I need you to drink this." Y/N said reaching into her cabinet pulling out a small vial. Without questioning it Elijah drank it then kissed her roughly picking her up not before turning her stove off.

Y/N gasped when Elijah pressed her against a wall and his mouth on her neck leaving marks there. Y/N mewled raking her fingers though his hair giving into Elijah's desires.

"I am going to fuck you." Elijah whispered in her ear making her tremble against her beloved vampire. Elijah lift her higher against his body kissing her hungrily pulling cute little sounds from her making Elijah want to hear more.

"Elijah.." Y/N breathed cupping his face thumbs moving them over his cheeks as Elijah looked at her in awe. There was a heat raised between the two as Elijah carried her to the bedroom dropping her on the bed. Y/N removed her shirt as Elijah moved over the witch leaning down kissing her.

"Baby, this needs to go." Elijah muttered against Y/N's neck tugging on her long skirt as she opened his shirt. Y/N raised her hips letting Elijah to pull off her skirt leaving her in a matching lacy bra and panties. Elijah traced along the lace of her bra with his mouth earning a gasp from his witch as she gently gripped his hair pulling at it getting a growl from the Original.

Elijah pulled away undressing them both before diving in between her thighs making her moan loudly as he moved her legs over his shoulders and holding her hips still. Y/N moaned gripping her comforter as Elijah ate her out like a man starved.

"Fuck!.....Elijah." Y/N moaned biting her knuckle as Elijah worshipped her with his mouth. It felt like there was a heat in her veins as Elijah worked her with his mouth while her legs shook.

"You taste divine, baby." Elijah said against her thigh leaving a mark there before lavishing her clit with his tongue. Y/N arched cumming as she moaned out his name as Elijah made her ride out her orgasm on his tongue. Y/N panted looking down at Elijah shivering as he was dripping with sex appeal like the Greek God he was.

"You have no right to look that good." Y/N panted out as Elijah hovered over her on his forearms caging her under him. Y/N found his sweet spot under his ear and sucked on it making him moan softly as he grinded against her.

"Really? It seems you don't really mind." Elijah said peppering her neck with kisses as she gilded him to her core. Elijah eased into her slowly and waited for her to adjust to him as she rolled her hips wanting him to fuck her already.

"Oh....you...right." Y/N moaned as Elijah thrusted into her. She wrapped her arms around Elijah's neck moaning as he buried his face in her neck. Elijah could feel a heat raise in him as he drowned his self in her scent, his witch. Y/N bit Elijah's neck pulling a groan from him as he gave a sharp thrust and kissed between her breast.

"So tight." Elijah groaned out lifting her legs higher allowed him to move deeper in her pulling a loud moan fromher. Y/N raked her nails down Elijah's back moaning loudly trembling as her walls squeezed him.

Elijah was being a bit more rough with Y/N not that the witch minded as she encouraged his movements with her sounds. Elijah was leaving marks on her collar bone as he moved deeper and harder while she was biting his shoulder and hands moving down his back feeling the muscles flex.

"Eli...... I'm close." Y/N whimpered moving to meet his thrusts as Elijah growled reaching between them rubbing her clit. Y/N cried out arching pressing against Elijah as he bit her neck falling off the edge with her.

"Baby....you alright?" Elijah asked kissing her neck as she panted feeling weak nodding as Elijah left for a moment then came back cleaning up between her legs.

"What was the spell?" Elijah asked pulling the witch into his arms as she smiled lacing her fingers with his.

"A fertility spell. Rebekah wanted a baby so I was working on the spell for her and Marcellus."

"How did the witch get it?" Elijah asked running his fingers down her back as Y/N reached up rubbing his cheek.

"A coven came to get me to join them. She must have saw the first have of the spell."

"The vial?"

"The second half of the spell. So you wouldn't kill me also there is a possibility I could fall pregnant." Y/N answered Elijah as he moved kissing her softly.

"I see. I'll have to give my siblings a call soon." Elijah said relaxing as Y/N was pressing kisses on his chest. It didn't take long before they fall asleep unaware that Elijah's family was headed their way.