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

[hwajin]

☆°. — blue | hhj

pairing: hyunjin x chubby!reader

genre: smut

wc: >1k

who is she she's writing 🗣🗣 did this in like 20 minutes, not proofread not anything, just rlly wanted to get out of my writing dread !!!

Staggered breath, tired legs. You grip his shoulder with your nails, evoke the mewl you waited for, voice bitter and dark. His eyes don't leave your body for a second, hands joining because he'd curse himself for eternity if he didn't touch you, right here, right now. Looking perfect to him, looking like everything, heavenly.

"Babe... I can't anymore."

Your words breathy and quiet, whispered into his ear; but Hyunjin only grins at you. Sultry, not to tease, but because you sound oh, so desperate, so very in need of him. And he loves it. Loves how your spent body goes imp against his own, sweaty and connected, hot but together. He loves how he needs to remind you to lean back, to let him see you, how he tells you to look at him, how you whine after; because you can never look at him without. Without a reaction, without a palpatating heart. He is your weakness, always, forever.

And you are his. Because when you lean back again, weight on your legs because you feel his hands giving your shoulders a soft push, when you sit back up and start moving your hips against his, grinding him further into his chair, paint brushes and paper behind him long forgotten, he bites his lip, and he blushes. He looks at the ripple of your breasts, your swollen buds he can't help but play with, pinching between his thumb and index, softly, then harsher to have you suck in a breath. He looks at the waves your stomach breaks, fluid and in motion, again and again when you tide against him, hips against hips, and he needs to hold them, needs to or else he'll lose ground, lose his sanity. He needs to bury his fingers into the depth of your flesh, further and further, feeling all the way to your muscles, your bones, kneading you, holding you, close and always closer.

And it isn't enough still. He picks you up, muscles flexed but smoothly, places you on the mattress after two steps. It surprises you, you moan into his mouth when he kisses you, length still deep within you, still tickling the very spot that craves his attention. That needs it, more and more, all of it, all of him. That flutters now when he thrusts into you, that makes your jaw go slack in pleasure and your eyes roll back in extasy. That he hits over and over again, grazing it with a depth and preciseness which leaves you breathless, panting, speaking nonsense. Sounds of something like 'I love you' and 'Please don't stop'; and he hears them clearly, understands them despite your lack of consciousness, and he obeys. He goes deeper, heavier, pushes you further into the mattress. His hand on the vastness of your body, pulling you closer towards him by your back, the other exploring, grazing thighs, mounts of flesh, steeps and hills of chest and neck, where he rests his hand. Where he doesn't squeeze, but watches you rake your head to make room for his fingers. Where he looks at you, hair a mess, body always moving against his, closer and closer and always closer, and he creeps his hand up your face, palming your cheek, grazing your lip with your tongue, caressing you all over. Your tongue darts out, licks the sweaty pad; he can't get enough of you. He can't understand you. Your beauty, your ability to make him so very weak, so very obedient.

And your eyes when you look at him. Deep, endlessly dark, in the dimness of the room. And your hand closes around his arm, your other holding him close by his shoulder; and he's falling over the cliff. Falling and falling into waters deeper than he thinks he can survive, but you're falling with him, he can feel it, wetter and wetter and louder, your teeth grazing his skin, the nape of his neck, and you whisper his name. Quietly, not to make him hear, not necessarily, but because you're pleading, begging, for him, for closeness, for salvation. He shudders, body tensing and rippling thoroughly, he sees it in your eyes, when you open them again to look at him. And you hold each other for a while longer, sweaty bodies dampening the mattress, sexes wet and messing up the duvets, but hearts connected, for eternity, forever.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @cherrrywon @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @astraystayyh

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters That Are Big of Heart and Dumb of Ass

Pairing: Vi, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Loris, Ambessa x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, flirting, cuddles, kissing, sparing, muscles, protectiveness

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: This came to me today during my work break. I love himbos and whatever the female version of it is!

PURE OF HEART: She will do anything, put herself in any kind of danger to protect you. Vi is ready to get into a fight with anyone, stand up to anyone if they're bothering you. The bruises might be there after but she knows you'll help her get patched up. Depending on where the bruises are she might get some kisses.

DUMB OF ASS: Charges head first into any situation and that more often than not gets her hurt. One would think she learned to use hear head a bit more by now. And just in terms of headbutting her opponent. However she defends her attitude by saying that she's the muscle here, so you should let her take care of things her way.

PURE OF HEART: First of all she doesn't want anyone knowing she has a soft spot for you. She is very aggressive in her flirting both in public and in private but when you're up close, in her lap she will whisper sweet nothings into your ear. After which she will bite it. Don't blame her, she has an image to uphold.

DUMB OF ASS: Sevika has always been a badass in Zaun, but not for her brains. As respected as she is some also see her as a glorified bodyguard that's now dating her boss's cute secretary. She hears these rumors of course but they don't phase her when she's had a few shots of her favorite drink. Not her best moment.

PURE OF HEART: He is a family man to the bone. And he sees you as his wife even though you're not officially married yet. It won't stop him from grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into a kiss, his tongue tasting of tabaco and your favorite drink. Yes, your favorite, because he wants to taste good when he kisses you.

DUMB OF ASS: While Vander might be one of the de facto leaders in Zaun he's made his fair share of dumb choices. He's forgotten to lock up more than once, leading to the people thinking the bar open and he walked out in his underwear. What made it more embarrassing is that you were right behind him, wearing just his shirt.

PURE OF HEART: Everyone who met Jayce even once can see that he has a heart of gold. There isn't a challenge he won't try to take out, be it with brains or brawn. Knowing he's smart hasn't stopped you from visiting him a few times in the forge and appreciating the way the sweat rolls down his muscled body. He even flexes for you.

DUMB OF ASS: The amount of times he accidentally burned himself because he was too busy making out with you is astounding. He picks you up easily enough. But then backs up a bit too much, touching or stepping too close to the heat of the forge. Either that or he knocks important tools down when he places you on his table.

PURE OF HEART: No one's got your back like Loris has your back. He's is one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ask for, husband material really. Whenever he notices you're having a bad day he will beckon you over and scoop you into his big arms. You're not getting away from him or his cuddles until you feel better.

DUMB OF ASS: Among the Enforcers he has always been known as the muscle, and as more than a bit of drinker. But he also tells the best stories. He can be a little crude sometimes, flirting with you and forgetting there are other people in the room. The next morning everyone is smirking at him and he has no idea why.

PURE OF HEART: Ambessa will crush anyone who has anything bad to say about her, her family, or anyone in her army. Her strength is in her physique, strategy and loyalty of her people. But on occasion she can show her softer side, when it's just the two of you. It's one of her weaknesses, that cute smile of yours that she would do anything for.

DUMB OF ASS: One of her favorite ways to flirt, and have foreplay, is to spar with you. However that tends to attract more than a few eyes. She always acts insanely possessive over you in those moments, her head still in the fight but also getting in between you and her soldiers. it ends up looking a bit like a dance, much to everyone's amusement.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Vil Schoenheit: The Shape of You

Rollo voice) that witch is showing too much bare skin

I noticed that Vil sounds a lot gentler in his Relax in Room vignettes… Maybe he comes across that way when he’s not scolding someone 😭

Rise and Shine!

You stopped in Vil’s doorway, as if bound by a spell, transfixed at the sight of him.

He was a creature of beauty and grace, even in the earliest hours of the morning. Vil knelt upon his mattress, one leg raised behind him, toes pointing to the ceiling. The form reminded you of a gazelle with its sturdy antlers and pointed hooves.

His arms reached behind his head and, elbows bent, he locked his fingers together. A slow exhale as he stretched, releasing the tension that had built up in his body overnight. You saw a swan beating its wings, hear a song blowing free across a flowered clearing.

His arms straightened and swiveled to his front. He shifted to his other leg and foot.

Behind him, sunlight streamed in through a large window. The glass panes bore a lattice of diamonds, painting Vil’s bed with shards of color. His silken top hung loose, the muscles in his chest flexing beneath a layer of milky skin. He was haloed in gold, as if blessed by a godly being of beauty.

You felt like you’ve intruded on something sacred, seen something that you shouldn’t have. Vil’s me time. And more of Vil than you’d ever dreamed you’d be exposed to. Bashful at the thought, you peeled your eyes away.

A question, quiet but hard, rose from Vil.

“Are you certain that you’re fully awake? You still look dazed—like you’ve just woken up.”

“I-I’m awake!” you insisted (unconvincingly, if Vil’s furrowed brows were anything to go by).

Sighing, he drew himself out of bed and strode over. You strained to keep your eyes from trailing to places they didn’t belong. His face—you focused on it. Barren but beautiful, with a delicate pale pink mouth, a straight nose, shapely arches for brows, and long wispy lashes.

You were so lost in him that you almost missed what he was saying.

“Join me for my morning stretches,” Vil advised. “It will do you some good—it gets the blood pumping and helps with circulation. That should help you properly wake up your body.”

“If you think that’ll help… How should I get started, teach?”

“Well,” he replied with a faint laugh, “it seems you’ve still got the energy to be cheeky with me.”

With one hand, Vil gestured for yours. You sheepishly offered it, then the other when he motioned again. The areas where he made contact seemed to tingle and burn, as though his very touch was toxic.

He was, you realized, standing close to you. Maybe too close.

His front flush with your back, you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Just a step, and you'd crash right into him, his heart slamming into your skin and bones. Collison with a wave of poison, dressed up nicely in a shapely perfume bottle.

You swallowed nervously.

“Assuming the correct posture is important. We wouldn’t want to pull or strain a muscle,” Vil explained, guiding you through the motions.

One arm was extended, palm up. The other laid perpendicular on the back of the elbow. Then extended arm closed like the jaws of a beast, and you could feel a pressure building where it clamped down.

“Hold that for fifteen seconds, then switch to the other side and do the same. I will show you the next stretch after that.”

The instructions flitted against your ear, setting your stomach churning. It was like you had swallowed an entire jar of butterflies which swarmed in your gut. You tried to bat them down, tried to ground your thoughts before they floated away again.

“Y-Yes, I understand, thank you.”

“Do you?” Vil smirked. “My, what a fast learner. If only all my students were this obedient, I would have far less grief."

He pressed a quick peck to your temples. You burned, body going slack from the shock. So much for stretching.

Vil only chuckled as he pulled back, brushing slender fingers along your shoulders. "Now then, no time to dawdle. There's another day awaiting us, sweet potato."

[spiderb00]

Losing all my innocence in the backseat

Manon Bannerman X Reader 

Synopsis - your car has broken down, and your date with Manon is gone. But your girlfriend always finds a way to make everything special. 

Genre – Fluff & Smut       MEN N MINORS DNI (Request)

Warnings – semi-public sex? Nobody sees them, but they are inside a car. 

Now playing – Diet pepsi, by Addison Rae

You drove quietly down the empty roads, your right hand comfortably on Manon's thigh, the songs on Manon's Playlist fill the car. Today, you and your girlfriend were going to watch the sunset on the beach, your favorite date. There were towels and a bag with wines and snacks so that you and Manon could comfortably enjoy every second of your date. It was very rare for you and Manon to have equal days off, so you wanted everything to be perfect.  

Unfortunately, the atmosphere of tranquility did not last long, a noise in the engine interrupted your trip, and little by little the car simply stopped moving, giving you only time to touch the curb, before dying completely. 

"No, no, no! Come on." You said, giving a little punch to the steering wheel, while Manon tried to think of how to calm you down.  

Manon knew that you had planned everything meticulously, she was extremely grateful for your effort in the whole relationship, she had never had someone who put so much love into the things she did. So she also knew that you were a little perfectionist when it came to planning.   

"Hey, calm down, baby. Maybe it's not that serious." The brunette said, trying to make you not get frustrated.  

"I'll take a look, hopefully it doesn't spoil our plans." You said, giving a slight smile to the girl next to you, you unbuckled your seatbelt, jumping out of the seat of your Jeep and lifting the hood to see where the problem was.  

When you lifted the hood, all you could do was cough through the smoke that came out of your car. When the smoke cleared, you were able to get a better view and immediately started looking for the problem, so focused that you didn't even notice when your girlfriend got out of the car and walked to your side. 

"And then, baby? Do you know what the problem is?" Manon asked, the girl trying to see if anything was out of place, quickly remembering that she had no idea what she was looking at.  

"If that's what I'm thinking, our plans will be finished." You said, taking off the jacket you were wearing, leaving only your white tank top.    

Manon knew the situation was serious, but she couldn't help but peek at your arms, the muscles flexing as you fiddled with the car parts, the bulging veins and your tattoos look beautiful in contrast to your skin, highlighting one that always made Manon's legs weak, a tattoo with the shape of her body,  made in light strokes, which was positioned on your biceps. When you first showed her the tattoo, Manon jumped on your bones all night, and she could have sworn she could do it again every time she caught a glimpse of the ink on your skin. 

"yes, the engine heated up, the oil levels were low, which is crazy, because I could have sworn it was fine. There's nothing I can do right now but call the tow truck." You said, walking towards the driver's seat to get your phone.   

Listening to you talk to the guy in tow, Manon can see how frustrated you were. She could hear the gasps and puffs of air you let out constantly, and she knew she had to do something. Manon loved your company, and not only when you went out to beautiful places, she wanted you to know that just the two of you being together would be enough. 

"Great, they can only come in two hours." You said, walking towards the hood of the car and closing it tightly.  

"Hey, calm down, baby. You don't have to be like this, I know you had planned everything, but we can still have fun." Manon said, running her arms around your neck and pulling you closer, making you put your hands on the waist of the woman.  

"Sorry, baby. I just wanted everything to come out perfect." You said, running your thumb lightly over Manon's skin.  

"I know, but it can still be perfect. How about we drink that wine and hug each other a little, huh?" Manon said tilting her head to the right as she bit her lower lip, making you smile, giving in to the woman's request.   

Jumping in the back seat of your Jeep, you and Manon drank the wine straight from the bottle, the brunette snuggled comfortably on your chest as you shared conversations and laughter.   

"We missed the sunset, but at least we managed to drink all the wine." You said, placing the empty bottle carefully on the floor of the car.  

"And I could still see you in your sexy mechanical mode." Manon said, smiling and biting her lower lip right after.   

"Sexy mechanic, huh?!" You said, laughing with the brunette, that was getting closer to you.  

"Yes, my sexy mechanic." Manon straddled you, her legs on either side of your body, the brunette leaning in and starting a slow kiss. 

Your hands moved to hold Manon's waist instantly, almost like an extinguished. You knew each other's movements well, you both knew every curve and every little detail of both bodies. You were physically, mentally, and emotionally connected, and all of that just made your relationship wonderful.  

"How much time do we have left until the tow guy arrives?" Manon asked, ungluing her lips from yours for a second, only to place them on your jaw. 

"One hour." You said, holding back the moans that wanted to come out of you as you looked at the minutes that passed through your phone's clock.  

"Perfect, you've already made me cum in less time." The brunette said, gluing her lips to yours again.  

Hearing that, everything in you perked up, the thought of eating your girlfriend outside in the middle of an empty road seemed dangerous and exciting at the same time, but thinking about all the time you've spent here talking, why not spend it doing something more fun? 

Turning Manon around and tucking her body under the leather seat, you pulled away slightly, tilting the passenger seat forward so you had more room to get on your knees. You were tall and although the position was a little uncomfortable, you didn't care, you would kneel in Legos if it meant you would eat your girlfriend out. Kissing Manon again, you took your jacket off her body, the brunette had put it on after you discarded it, claiming you were cold. Your kisses went down Manon's neck, who panted lightly with the placement of your kisses, always reaching a sensitive place of hers.   

"Can I take your shirt off, baby?" You asked, teasing Manon, who seemed impatient.   

"Please, you can do whatever you want with me. Just, hurry up." The brunette said, making you smile and slide the shirt off her body.  

Seeing that she was without a bra, your smile widened, and you immediately put her left nipple in your mouth, massaging her right. The moans your girlfriend let out were beautiful, and only made you want to go deeper with it all. Now, you who were getting impatient, unbuttoning your girlfriend's black jeans, you slid the piece out of Manon's body. Your mouth watering when you saw the black panties she wore.   

"Can I take that away from you, baby?" You asked, and even though you had joked before, consent was very important to you.  

"Damn, Yn! Yes, do whatever you want with me." Manon said, shaking her legs slightly to emphasize how needy she was.  

With a smile, you took off the brunette's panties, keeping them in your back pocket. You moved closer to Manon's pussy, just torturing the woman and putting kisses on her thighs, biting lightly from time to time.  

"Yn, I swear to god that if you don't start eat me..."   

Manon was interrupted by a moan coming out of her mouth as you licked all over her pussy. Playing with her bundle of nerves right after, making Manon's head fall backwards on the back of the seat. When you penetrated her hole with your tongue, she let out one of the loudest moans you've ever heard, her hands trying to grab your tank top, only for her hand to go through the fabric and scratch your back.   

The moan of pain you let out emitted delicious vibrations in your girlfriend's pussy, causing her to grab your hair and push your head more between her legs. After a few minutes of shaking your head back and forth, and doing everything to pleasure your girlfriend, you felt Manon's legs start to shake, knowing that she would in a few moments, you put a finger inside her, while your tongue worked on her clit. 

Manon's moan was pleasurable, and the brunette's nails dragged down your back as she came in your mouth. Without letting Manon rest, you didn't stop, your head still between the woman's legs, catching every drop of sperm that came out of her. Putting two fingers inside her this time, while making quick movements against her clit. 

Manon, starting to get overstimulated, grabbed your hair, only for you to take your fingers out of her and grab her wrists, pulling her hands away from you. Her hips were frantically moving against your face and you were so focused that you didn't notice the tears beginning to well up in Manon's eyes.   

"Yn, baby. Please, it's enough!" Hearing your girlfriend's voice, you finally took your head out of between her legs, looking at her before giving her a light kiss on top of her clit, making her shiver slightly.  

"Sorry, baby. You just get me hooked on you. Did I hurt you?" You asked, genuine concern in your voice.  

"No, it was good, very good. I just need some time to recover." She said, combing your wild hair back.  

Laughing, you sat next to your girlfriend, picking up a bottle of water that was in the coasters.   

"Here, drink a little. You must have a sore throat from screaming." You said, mocking the woman next to you.  

"Shut up, you idiot." Manon said, taking the open bottle from your hand and taking half of it quickly.  

"I love you." You said, looking at the brunette as she finished drinking the entire bottle of water.  

"I love you too, dummy." Manon said, leaning over and giving your lips a kiss, she could swear she tasted her on them.  

"Well, let's dress you, we don't want to be caught like that by the mechanic." You said, turning your back to Manon to grab her pants, which you had thrown somewhere. 

"Put the jacket you took back on, your back is wrecked." 

After the mechanic took your car, you ordered an Uber, Manon would sleep at your house tonight, and all you wanted was to jump on the soft blankets and sleep cuddled. So when you got home, you two wasted no time, taking off your clothes and tucking together under the shower. The warm water doing wonders for Manon, while for you, let's just say your back was burning like hell.   

After you got out of the shower, you both put on pajamas and snuggled up on the bed, the bodies of the two of you fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt a light kiss on your cheek, making your eyes open with difficulty. 

"I love you." Manon said, looking at you with admiration in her eyes. "Me and you forever?"   

"Forever Always." You said, kissing her forehead. "I love you too, Bannerman."   

Manon's giggle was the last thing you heard before falling asleep.  

wow, okay. I loved all of that. I think I really needed to rest a little so that the ideas came back to me. So that's it, thank you to anon who made the request

xoxo, spider.

[annievrse]

headlock

roronoa zoro x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb c/w: suggestive a/n: lol

“my eyes are up here.”

a quick snap of his fingers has you peering up at him with warm cheeks. you smile sheepishly at him.

“sorry.”

zoro hums, arching an eyebrow. you're not sorry.

"what's so interesting down there, huh?" he already knows, he just wants to hear you say it.

shaking your head, your eyes don't dare waiver from his. "nothing as interesting as the weather outside."

he purses his lips, a scoff catching in his throat before he tightens his grip on the barbell and brings it up to his chest for another rep. when zoro's gaze drifts from you and lands on the floor beneath him, you flicker your eyes back down to where they were trained before.

his biceps bulge as he flexes them, veins prominent under his tan skin. the defined muscles are your favourite sight, and like a dog, eyes locked on a bone just out of reach, you can feel an urge building in your chest, a twitch of your muscles begging to spring forward, but you refrain.

instead, your mouth moves before you can stop yourself.

"would you put me in a headlock?"

zoro's eye darts to you, his cheeks tinted pink as he falters with the exercise. the barbell falls to the ground with a thunk, and you're surprised it doesn't fall through the wooden floor of the crow's nest.

"what?"

you smile, a challenging glint in your gaze. "you heard me."

"you're a freak."

shrugging one shoulder, you stand. "ok, and? you scared?"

"never," he scoffs, running his hand over his hair. "c'mere then."

you're shocked he'd even consider the idea, but skip over to him anyway. zoro watches you the whole time, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he saw this coming. he hasn't missed the way you stare at his arms like you want to bite them, and whether that's the reason he's been focusing on training them more than any other body part is something he'd never admit.

zoro is quick to spin you, back against his chest. the heady, musky, man smell he emits makes you dizzy and does little to deter you.

"you sure?"

you roll your eyes and crane your neck to look at him. "would i really tell you if i didn't want to?"

zoro's eyebrows jump and then he brings his elbow under your chin. he hovers around you like he's scared to go further, and you push the deep 'v' of his arm around your neck. his other hand flies to your hip to steady you, his arm sliding over your stomach to press you harder against him.

the hard plain of his abdomen on your back knocks the breath out of you, but it's nothing compared to the pulsing of his bloodstream against your ear. his skin is smooth where you trail your fingers on his bicep, and you know when zoro is comfortable when he starts flexing, an easy laugh falling from his lips.

"weirdo," he mumbles when he feels his skin growing warmer with every passing second. you giggle and turn your head to kiss his muscle.

"you love it."

zoro sighs, one of contentment and desire, and you don't miss the traces of a groan when you sink your teeth into his flesh, the pain minor but forever etched into his skin. he shifts his hips and pulls you impossibly closer.

"easy," the swordsman mutters, voice low. "we've got all night."

[verity-hollow]

Chrysalis

Cw: claustrophobia and body horror

Your becoming was unlike the ways you had heard of. Skin hardening into porcelain, arms relaxing as bone and muscle turns to cotton stuffing, eyes drying out as they become glass. The feeling of lightness and relief as humanity fades away as if it was never there at all.

When your witch-to-be finished her work, you closed your old eyelids for the final time, and when you thought you had opened them again, all was dark. You remembered Her words: "I have done all I can, the process is begun. If you are to be my doll, you must be the one to shed your old self to become what you always were."

Now you were alone in the dark, without your witch to guide you. It felt heavy and cold. You struggled to breathe. Did you still need to? Either way, there was no room in this place to take in air. You only felt cold, clammy moisture around your mouth. You could barely move. Everything in this place seemed to crush you into a ball, but you couldn't even draw your limbs around you. No matter what you tried, nothing seemed to make the walls of your prison yield.

You lay in silence and tried to relax. you thought that this was what she wanted from you. Let stillness permeate you to take your humanity away. Hours passed, and you were no closer to escaping the dark. It felt just as tight and cold as when you began. You felt like you could stay like this forever, but if you did, you would never see the doll you were going to become. More worrisome was the notion that you would never again see your witch's face, or hear Her voice.

It was slow going. Repeated efforts found you could achieve a few degrees of motion, and your prison felt looser. It slid strangely against you as you bent and twisted yourself to find any purchase. Your dark, clammy cage stretched agonizingly slow, each new desperate attempt to free yourself added only a fraction of a degree more to your range of motion.

If laying still felt like hours, this process must have taken days, but the cage had softened, and at last you found a crack. It was next to your torso, and was stiffer than the rest. But unlike the softer parts which all slid away from your fingers, you could grab it. You could feel your new fingers now, distinct from what they had once been as they tightened on that bony ridge. You fought with it, pushed and pulled and twisted. Muffled sounds of crunching and squelching reached your ears as you wrenched the crack wider. Finally, you wedged the fingers of both hands into it, and pried with all your strength until, with a sickening crack, light flooded the cage.

A body lay unbreathing on the witch's altar. The cold stone and the magic of the ritual kept it from decomposing, but its skin shifted and distended. Bones crunched and flesh tore, and from inside the corpse, jointed fingertips pushed their way into the air. The fingers gripped splintered ribs, using them like handles to rip the body open. The ruined corpse's thoracic and abdominal cavity disgorged its occupant, and a doll sat up on the altar, rubbing its eyes. Its olive porcelain and brown hair were slick with blood and shards of bone, but that didn't hide the copper colored filigree that traced along its arms, legs, and sides. On its back was a set of ornamental insectile wings made of the same coppery material, which flexed and flapped themselves almost unconsciously. The doll grabbed hold of what remained of its prison, extracting its new ball-jointed legs one at a time with a sound of wet meat from the collapsing husk of what it once was.

The witch helped it down from the altar, petting its head and praising it on its Becoming, unfazed by the gore still dripping from its hair. The new doll's sisters cleaned it and dressed it, and took it to the garden where their witch was waiting. She stood in front of a grave. The headstone was blank, and dirt was freshly mounded in front of it. She handed the doll a chisel and hammer and gave it its first task:

"You will carve your name here."

The doll looked around and saw many more graves in the garden, even more than there were dolls in the house. Some of the headstones were blank, but the earth didn't look disturbed. Among this grim reminder of what it once was and what it had accomplished, the doll wondered if those spaces were for the dolls that had yet to Become, or the ones that never did.

[moonsglare]

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.)

[schlattslambo]

thigh job with charlie

please i need him so bad its genuinely unhealthy😖😫

a/n: thank you for this anon. i will be thinking about this for a while. i hope you enjoy! i wanted to try my hand at writing sub!charlie, i hope thats alright!

cw: sub!charlie, gn!reader but they have some thicc thighs, slight begging, one instance of hair pulling, calling charlie a slut

————————

charlie’s been known to whine when he gets needy. you’re used to it by now. you’d be doing something important and he comes in blubbering about how much he needs you. in today’s case, you’re sitting at your desk writing an important work email. your mind is completely focused on getting this out in time that you don’t hear the door creak open.

“baby?” charlie’s voice is just above a whisper as he stands in the doorway.

you don’t hear him, continuing to clack away at the keyboard.

“baby,” charlie tries, this time his voice a bit louder.

“yes love?” you ask, not taking your eyes from the computer.

“need you,” charlie’s voice comes out way needier than he expects it to.

“i’m busy, sweetie.” you reply, pausing to take a look at him.

charlie’s cheeks are flushed and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead, some of his hair sticking to it. he looks desperate and pathetic, just how you like him. you weren’t particularly dominant or submissive before your relationship, but hearing how whimpery charlie got when you two fucked, it was hard not to dominate him.

“i-i’ll be quick, promise,” charlie pleads. “you don’t even have to stop working.”

“i’m listening,” you say, crossing your arms on your chest.

him bargaining when needy is nothing new. he gets desperate and dumb and can only think about you. he thinks with his cock sometimes, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“i could fuck your thighs,” charlie continues. “you have that standing desk too so you don’t even have to stop working. please, baby.”

you turn to your desk and charlie deflates slightly. but as he sees it slowly raise up, he can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face. you stand up, tugging your pants down. charlie’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of your ass. he’ll never get over how good it looks.

“get lube baby.” you order, turning back to the computer.

you smile to yourself as you hear charlie scramble to his room. he comes back quickly, breathing heavily as he uncaps the lube. you don’t need to look at him to know that his hands are shaking. you turn around to help, only to find charlie with his pants around his ankles and cock at attention. you can’t help but laugh at him.

“baby, you look pathetic,” you say, running a hand through his hair.

charlie leans into your touch, cock twitching.

“let me help,” you add, taking the lube from his hands.

you’re quick to apply lube to your thighs, right at the spot that he usually grinds against. you don’t touch his cock mainly because of the fact that he might cum from the touch alone. you turn back to the computer with a smile.

you don’t say anything, knowing that charlie is shaking in need and waiting for the okay to jump your bones. he’s breathing heavily, fingers twitching as he looks at your thighs. he fucking loves your thighs.

“go ahead, angel,” you say with a smile.

soon, charlie’s hard cock is sliding effortlessly between your thighs. you focus on the email that you’re drafting, occasionally flexing your thigh muscles to make him whimper. he’s whining away, balls slapping against your thighs. you finish the email haphazardly, sending it along to a coworker before turning your attention to the boy between your thighs.

“hang on,” you say, reaching back and stopping charlie’s movements. “let me turn around so i can see you.”

you turn around quickly, placing his cock between your thighs again. he watches where you two are connected before you cup his jaw and force him to look at you. his eyes are glassy and he’s flushed.

“so good for me,” you praise. “that feel good?”

charlie nods quickly, some hair falling in his face.

“so good,” he blubbers. “feels s’ good.”

you tug on his hair, making him let out a pathetic noise. he loves being manhandled like this, especially when he’s only allowed to fuck your thighs. it places him beneath you, and he absolutely loves it.

“pl-please,” he whines, voice wavering. “please let me cum for you.”

“you’re already about to cum?” you tsk. “let me hear how desperate you are.”

charlie lets out a mewl, shivering as you lean down and bite at his neck. “please (y/n), please let me coat your thighs,” he begs. “i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day, please just let me feel good for you.”

you look at him and his eyes are wet. a sign that he’s truly at the brink. you don’t want to be too mean to your boy, so you nod.

“go ahead, charlie,” you whisper against his ear. “make a mess for me.”

with one pathetic wail, charlie cums. thick white ropes shoot out and land on your floor as charlie holds onto your shoulders for dear life. he slumps against you as his thrusts slow, his breath against your neck.

“th-thank you,” he whispers. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome, my slut,” you smile, running a hand through his hair.

charlie clings to you for a moment as you kiss him gently. he loves you so, so much, and even if he isn’t going to say so with his softening cock between your thighs, he’ll make sure to whisper it to you later that evening.

“oh and baby,” you continue, making charlie look up at you. “you’re gonna need to clean up that mess you made, so go ahead and do that.”

you make your way to the bathroom, knowing that charlie will make that area spotless as you shower.

[mywebfoot]

Love Scout : The Episode 9 that Should Have Been

They took it to the bed. No falling stationery got in the way. Fanfic.

--

ENTHRONED

“Ji Yun-ssi,” he groans. “Hold on.”

We are in my bed, and I have him on me, his hips cradled between my thighs, and my hands anywhere I can get them. He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, his breath coming out in hard puffs against my damp lips. Yu Eun Ho is a biter, who would have guessed, and my lips are swollen and tingling from his raiding mouth.  I need more. 

I push both hands through his hair, happily destroying the suave hairdo.  The random spikes and the curl over his eye makes him handsomer than ever. Probably because I’m the cause of his bed head. I can’t resist him, and I want him to know tonight’s the night. 

He was right, we would know when I was ready to be vulnerable in his arms. Tonight, a line was crossed. At the event, he didn’t rescue me, he only stood in the trenches with me. He didn’t block a blow, he only put his strength behind mine. I thought he had already destroyed my willpower in this relationship, but right there was when he stole any sense of self-preservation. He is what I have yearned for, without even knowing what I was seeking. I am his, in all but my body, and I need to solve that problem this very second. 

I tug him down but he resists. Instead he pulls my hands away, and places them on each side of my head, trapping my wrists in his long fingers. 

I glance at my hands, then at him. After biting, is this some bondage kink from Yu Eun Ho?

“What are you doing?”

He shakes his head. “Ji Yun-ssi. I need to, we need to slow this down.”

I violently shake my head. “No! We’re not stopping. I need you, right now.” He can hold my hands but his hips are still between my legs. So I wrap my legs around his to hold him in place. It’s not my fault that it also means that I buck up and into him and grind heat against heat to make my point. “This has to happen.”

His jaw clenches as his spine clutches, forcing his hard bulge right where I need it the most. He gasps and tries to take calming breaths. He holds my hands down even tighter. 

“Don’t do that. I’m too close Ji Yun-ssi. If we don’t slow down, I’ll finish right now and I don’t want that for us. We, I need to get us both there.”

I narrow my eyes at him.  “Give me a plan then.”

He pulls back, and sits up on his heels. My newly released hands go straight for where his white business shirt is half-untucked. He scoots away and points one accusing finger at me in warning.  “You are such a sassy menace, Ji Yun-ssi,” he is amused but I can see the lines of tension bracketing his mouth. He takes a deep breath and backs up and off the bed. 

Standing up, he stares at me. His eyes slide down to where one shoulder and one bra cup is revealed. The rest of the dress is tugged around my hips from when we fell on the bed and he bunched it up by sliding his hands up my thighs. I am unravelled and he seems to be relishing the damage he’s done. “Well, first I need to catch up with you.”

I should be concerned. Maybe even cover myself up with shyness. But nothing matters when his hands go to the top button of his shirt. Damn him, why. isn’t . he. rushing. I hear the soft pop of each one opening. In my head it goes off like fireworks on new year’s eve. My bedside lamp is on. The light plays on the small shadows around his collar bones. Three buttons in, and I finally get a wedge of chest revealed. Eun Ho’s body is deliciously muscled and solid yet lean. Taut, smooth skin stretches over chest and waist. When he flexes to pull the shirt off, I writhe. The sinews bunch at his shoulders as he shrugs out of the shirt. It drops to the floor, forgotten.

“You move so beautifully,” he whispers. Me? His eyes watch my knees twist and my toes curl. “Can I say that? You rush and you bump but it’s all a part of a great story, one that you weave every day around you and the people around you.”

His long fingers move to his buckle. I bite my lip. The zipper hisses, and I am not sure if I should be staring there but he’s clearly expecting me to so who am I to deny him? The trousers slide off to reveal something tight and dark hugging his hips and perfectly cupping his aroused body. My heart, which had slowed down for a bit is now threatening to throb its way right out of my chest. 

Watching me, he walks to the top of the bed. I turn to him, my arms coming up of their own volition to welcome him. He takes my left hand, kisses it, and crawls into bed behind me. 

“Eun H- what are you, no. Come h-...”

I wish I could tell you that I had more lucid sentences. But you try talking when a handsome hunk curls up behind you and tucks you into his body. His arms gather me in. My hips are pulled tight into the V his legs make, and his thighs bracket mine. His heat and scent rise around me. Tonight it’s his usual piney soap with some musky cologne that makes me wish I could just breathe him in. After he has arranged me to his satisfaction, he slips his arms under mine and around my waist. Where his skin touches mine, I burn. He’s everywhere, I’m surrounded. 

“Now, we can continue,” he murmurs.

I feel every word against the rim of my ear. He follows that up by capturing my lobe in his mouth. His breathing roughens. The soughing in my ear is as arousing as the contact. My back arches, and that finally tugs the dress down, completely exposing my strapless bra. I suppose he takes it as an invitation, since the wicked man growls “excuse me” before he cups his large hands around them. 

In two seconds, he’s flipped the cups down and he’s captured both nipples with his fingers. It’s so sudden I am not prepared for the heat and friction. He rubs his palms restlessly over my nipples, making them tighten and pout. I don’t know who is panting harder now. “These are so pretty, Ji Yun-ssi. They make me think of peaches, summer warm and juicy ripe.” I pant and watch his hands petting me, his long fingers almost covering all of me except when he catch the nipples between his fingers. 

I reach up and grab his head down to kiss. It’s open-mouthed, unpolished and messy. I don’t know how to be smooth or feminine because I’m hungry. He simply surrenders his mouth, giving me permission to eat him up. I suck, I scrape my teeth over his lips, and I lick it all up like cream and strawberries. 

I try to turn in his arms, to fully face him and climb over his gorgeous legs. He restrains me by simply plopping one leg over each of mine. 

“Please don’t turn around Ji Yun-ssi. If you do, if I see what I’m feeling,” he squeezes my breasts gently to make his point, “it will be over. I will be on you and in you and that will be the end of our love-making.”

“I want you in me,” is all I can get out around my gritted teeth. 

I can feel his silent laugh in his belly. He nuzzles into my neck, breathing in as he does. 

“Just this first time, Ms Impatient. This first time, let me learn from you. I promised you didn’t I? Please, help me learn how to love you.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he pulls his legs back and mine, trapped in his, are pulled back and apart as well. My dress hikes up higher and my panties peek out. My hands clutch at his thighs. He has access to every part of me and I can do nothing. I’m bound, but I am bound to a throne made of one sexy man.

One of his hands stay, teasing and rubbing my bared breasts. The other slides down, hooking my black dress with his thumb and pulling it the rest of the way down, scrunching it past my thighs. Then it backs up and he brushes it against the front of my black panties. He curls his fingers and his knuckles press a little deeper. 

The breath rushes out of me in a long whimper. I clamp down on the forearm wrapped around me and squirm. His knuckles get naughtier. It’s almost too much and I want to close my legs, but his heavy thighs keep me exposed to his invasion. The more I squirm, the more I’m opening up for him. The pressure on my clit gets firmer and firmer, before he slips his fingers under the hem. 

The first touch is electrifying. I gasp. My heels dig into the bed and I bow backwards. He holds me secure in his long, lean body and I am not afraid. He growls loving words, encouraging words into my ear. 

“Good, Ji Yun-ssi…more,” he commands. “Tell me what else you want. This?” and he plunges a finger in. 

I am helpless now. I am caught, and splayed open to his marauding hands. My hips buck up, greedy traitors that they are. My inner walls throw a welcome party to his exploring fingers. He withdraws his fingers and I make protesting mewls. 

“More?” 

“Yes. Everything.”

His fingers plunge into my panties. He flattens his palm on my clitoris and his fingers delve in, the slick gush of my body helping him all the way. My eyes are closed and my entire being is condensing into a tiny pinpoint of light. 

I break. It’s quick. One second I open my mouth to beg for ‘faster’ and I probably say “fah-“ before my voice is stolen. I think I scream as by the waves of orgasm shriek through me. It starts deep inside as my walls clench on his clever fingers and slams outward as he pinches my nipples with the other hand. I have lost all semblance of control and it would be frightening except that I am surrounded by Eun Ho, his body behind me grounds me, and his arms hold me together even as I feel like I have melted into the blinding sun. His fingers are the one reality, the one thing I know as he draws the orgasm out, pulling my tremors longer and harder until I moan in protest. 

He finally stills. My thoughts return, as does my awareness. I feel the harsh rise and fall of his chest. He turns me around, and arranges me on his chest. I am a wilted vegetable and just lie where he puts me. 

His gently soothes me with his hands. He sweeps his hands over my shoulders, and down my back. On the way, he unclasps the flipped bra, slipping it away and aside. He turns me over, and onto the bed. He kneels, and pulls the rest of my clothing away. 

The cool air drifts over my damp nudity. At my feet, he starts back up my body, but this time with kisses and breath feathering over my shins, then my knees. He takes his time, sprinkling me with nibbles and gentle caresses. He drifts his fingers over my skin. He breathes me in, and pauses at the juncture of my thighs to admire the wet, slick parts. 

I just let him. My muscles won’t move but his ministrations light a small spark in me. He reaches my belly and he rubs his face in it. 

“You’re so soft. So silky,” he praises me. The rasp of his jawline wakes something up in me. I’ve stared at that 5 o’clock shadow at the end of a long day before. I was tired, the day had drained me and I had little willpower to stop needy fantasising about having that roughness rasp against me. And now I have his face in my belly, rising slowly to my breasts. I am a woman fulfilled.

Then he opens his mouth over my nipples and for the first time, I feel the slippery slide of his tongue on my nipples. I don’t know who’s moaning louder, him or me. 

His eyes open and he inspects his handiwork. I watch him ogling, treating himself with the sight of the swollen, glistening tips. “I imagined this. So many times. That night, on the office sofa, in my home, out on the road.” Another soft suckle. I squirm. 

My hand goes to his butt. While we’re fulfilling fantasies I might as well tick another one off my list. I grip him. Under the black cotton, there’s clenching muscle. He rises higher and clamps his mouth over mine, catching my gasp as he thrusts his aroused bulge against the side of my hip. Again and again, he rubs insistently against me. I slip my hand around, over his writhing abs, downwards and grasp his length. He swears then presses his forehead against my shoulder as he writhes and gyrates into my hand. I can trace his shape but that cotton is in the way. Enough is enough. 

I push him away. He flips on to his back and I rise up over him. I can tell he loves it. His eyes darken and his brows form a deep V as he watches me slide his underwear down. I look at him and I am delighted to see veins and a flushed tip. 

I straddle him and sit right down. I’m still slick and his hardness slips right in. He lets out a guttural moan and clutches my hips. He shakes his head wordlessly and grits out “protection” as I start to gyrate. “Ah… nnngh… wait,” he growls, even as he starts to arch up.

I pull his hands to my breasts. No mercy. He shudders but can’t help himself from mauling the tips. He thrusts into me and I can feel him twitching and jerking in me. I squeeze him right back and he bites out a hoarse curse. 

I put him out of his misery. “IUD. The day after we kissed.” He glares at me before he releases a breathless laugh. 

“You’re incredible.”

“Give me everything, then.” 

He leans back and grasps the headboard. The pose makes every line of his arms stand out, from biceps to the hollow of his arm pits. The twin ridges of his pecs rise up. I grip them with my hands and I ride him. I arch forward, pressing my clit against his pelvic bone and forcing him out and in, over and over again. His eyes never leave my breasts, as if he’s hypnotised by the rhythmic bouncing.  

I cup his jawline to kiss him, raining kisses on his face, his cheeks, that aquiline nose. He’s still white knuckling the headboard, and the bed squeaks in protest. “Let go, Eun Ho-ssi,” I whisper.

He looks at me, desperate and begging for my understanding. “I can’t. If I touch you I can’t hold out. Please,” he whines. “I’ve waited …Please…I need…” Words fail him but I get it. I know he wants me to take him and he wants to relish it. 

I’ve been sated and so I last a long time. I relish his torture. I give him a show. I slide my fingers over my breasts, offering them to him. His breathless cries drive me on. I slow twist on him, and give him quick little rolls and he takes it all eagerly, gratefully. I start to sweat, making my skin shine. He shudders, writhing under me and grunting his pleasure. Finally, finally, his eyes roll back and he throws his head back. He bucks uncontrollably, desperate noises spewing from his mouth with each thrust. My thighs tremble. The hot spurts trigger me and I come too, unbelievably. My insides squeeze him and he gives this wrenching, guttural cry like he’s in pain. His whole body shudders and jerks reflexively.

I collapse on his chest.  Our breaths merge, syncing up as we come down from wherever our bodies had floated off to. He lifts me a little, to peek at my face, even now checking on me. What he sees must please him because he smiles in relief. “You’re wonderful.”

He cradles me back to him. We sleep. 

--

Go to Part 1/2

[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.”

[lostonehero]

This is dumb

Werewolf Arthur and Werewolf Oscar blindfaith.

Oscar knew the moment he laid eyes on Arthur. They were the same. He did greatly enjoy the other man's scent it made his inner wolf happy, so of course he offered himself up to help. He's a priest, and Arthur needed help. Although it was getting late and tonight was a full moon, thankfully however where they were going was pretty remote, so he didn't have to worry about any innocent bystanders.

The beastary was something else, however, and it was getting harder to focus. Thankfully, they didn't miss the exit the second time. He shut the book as they drove up to the abandoned property. "We should do this quickly. It will be night soon."

"R-right." Arthur nods as he gets out of the car. "Leave the book inside it's raining."

"Of course." Oscar places the old book on his seat and shuts the door. "Where should I start?"

"We can do a preliminary search, I'll check the barn. Can you look around the main house?" Arthur stares past him.

"Yes, of course." Oscar smiles and splits off.

......

"Arthur the stone!" John huffs. "I put it in Oscar's pocket."

Arthur stops. "You fucking what!" He growls, his emotions were like a live wire and he wanted to bite John. He wanted to make him submit. He nearly bites through his lip. "Fuck... fuck.... FUCK. John we can trust Oscar and you betray him like this."

"Trust him? We barely know him. Arthur, do you hear yourself? You're the one who made the deal with Scratch." John growls back. "You are getting yourself worked up over a stranger."

Arthur grits his teeth. He goes to yell at John again, but an odd muscle strain in his hand snaps him out of it. He flexes his right hand.

"Arthur, we can not just sit here while you stare at your... oh..? There seems to be an odd pain in my hand at the palm. It's as if your muscles are being pulled, but I can see no problem." John was curious, holding up his hand.

A cold dread settled in Arthur's stomach. "John, is tonight a full moon?"

"The sun will be setting shortly, I won't be able to tell you, however, due to the clouds. Why is that important?" John was getting annoyed.

Arthur flexed his right hand and swallows. "How far is Oscar from us?"

"He is by the house.... he has taken off his coat, which is odd considering the rain outside, which has slowly been turning to sleet. He is motioning to us and holding his coat. I do not understand what he is trying to convey."

Arthur could cry in relief. "He's like... ok ok shit fuck we don't have much time."

"You're right. We have to leave and find out about the order of the fallen star... Arthur why the fuck are you undressing?" John sounded baffled. "It is only going to get colder as the sun sets. You are going to freeze, stop removing your fucking clothes!"

Arthur got undressed as fast as he could before the first shooting pain went down his spine, and he went to his knees. The ground was muddy, and he forgot how painful this would be. "J-john."

"Arthur! What is wrong? Have we been hurt ha- SHIT." John cursed as pain curls in his hand and foot. It felt as if the muscle and bone were being shattered and reformed. "FUCKING ARTHUR WE'RE UNDER ATTACK THE KING THE-"

Arthur curls into himself more bones shift and crack reforming. He can hear Oscar howl in pain across the way, and that's the last thought he had as the moon rose.

"Arthur? Arthur!" John felt wrong he couldn't feel his fingers, and he was disoriented.

A low growl answered.

"Arthur, there seems to be a giant wolf approaching us." John looked around and saw another set of paws. The color of the fur matched Arthur's hair.

The giant wolf seemed to be bigger than what they were at the moment. They sniffed the air and stood on guard.

John could see the giant wolf walk around them.

Arthur made a noise like a low animalistic growl and lunged.

John could see a glowing stone in the larger wolf's hip? But it didn't look to bother the creature. He knew that stone to be Scratch's stone. Did this wolf kill Oscar? Would they kill them? He didn't have time to process as they started to move fast together.

John lost track of time, from the three dead deer, and whatever they were being mounted by the giant wolf with a bite into their flesh and Arthur giving one back to the wolf in the after throws of passion. The storm broke, and they were in the barn after breaking down the doors. "Arthur, the larger wolf will not fuck you a third time no matter how much you whine." He sighs feeling a dull ache in his paw? Paws? He didn't want to think about it. The other large wolf was whining, too curled up next to Arthur.

Something was different... they were shrinking, and John could feel his hand again and move his fingers. "What the fuck was that?" He could see light filter into the barn as the sun crept over the horizon.

John watched the giant wolf turn into Oscar, who was now stretching and gripping his head.

"Yes, yes." Oscar groans as he sits up. He covers his mouth as he burps and drools a slightly black liquid and curses when he sees it on his hand. "Definitely scratch here.... explains why you're loud." He wiped his hand on the barn floor and cracked his back. He looked over to Arthur. "Yes, yes, you had fun..." He raised his hand to his shoulder where a bitemark was present. He gets up with a jolt and starts to pace and mumble in Latin.

"Didn't know he spoke Latin." John mumbles as Arthur hisses and gets up. "You're awake! What the FUCK was that?"

Arthur grimaces he's more sore than he normally is after a full moon. Probably because he spent it with another wolf. Thankfully, he didn't feel hungry. He scratches at his stubble and stretches before he gets up.

"Arthur, are you even listening to me?" John shouts.

"Mmh." Arthur hums. "John, I'm fine, we're fine."

"You didn't sleep last night! You turned into a beast! Oscar was a giant wolf and fucked you! You ate like 3 deer! You kept growling at me." John huffs.

"Mmh, right." Arthur yawns stretching again. "John, I'm a werewolf. That's why I asked about the moon."

"You are making no sense!" John growls. "What the fuck is a werewolf?"

Arthur pinches his brow. "Right you know about all these other horrors but you don't know what a fucking werewolf is."

Oscar stopped pacing. "Arthur, who are you talking to?"

"A voice in my head who controls my eyes left hand and left foot. His name is John." Arthur sighs.

"What the fuck Arthur?" John growls.

Oscar pursed his lips and paused for a moment. "Like scratch?"

"Yes.... wait..." Arthur whips his head towards Oscar. "What do you mean?"

"Scratch tried to possess me the first time, with the incident with Marie's husband." Oscar yawns. "Sorry. It didn't exactly go how the entity wanted, but it gave my wolf a voice, and I think my wolf also ate a piece...." He stops and makes a face. "Sorry again... um, right, so is John the name you gave yours after an incident with an entiy?"

"Jesus, it can talk to you?" Arthur pauses. "Not excatly, John is a fragment of a god who again controls my eyes left hand and left foot."

"For fucks sake Arthur answer my damn question!" John pouts.

"Are you alright?" Oscar pauses. "You're making a face. John, did you want to ask me something?"

"Arthur i.... wait, he's asking me?" John lost his anger replaced with an odd tone.

"John doesn't know what werewolves are. I suppose I was in a coma during the last full moon, so I couldn't turn." Arthur sighs.

"Oh, I can answer. I was turned when I was quite young. The folks thought I wasn't going to survive the attack. Werewolves are people bitten or born as these creatures who turn into giant wolves during the full moon. However, we get enchanced senses and unfortunately instincts while we are normal the rest of the month. Also, a lot more than normal bodily hair." He motions to his incredibly muscular frame and the dark black body hair that covers his arms legs chest and back. "Also sharper teeth and pointed ears."

Arthur nods. "I've been like this for a decade, nowhere near as long as you, Oscar."

"So that's why you were removing your clothes." John hums. "They get ruined when you turn."

"Correct. I hope I have enough salvageable clothing. I can go out in public." Arthur broke into a small smile as Oscar chuckles.

"And you were complaining that I took too long, I got extra clothes I put in the trunk when we visited the parish." Oscar smiles. "The nuns are quite helpful this time of the month. The church isn't a stranger to those afflicted like us."

"Thank you, Oscar." Arthur smiles a bit wider.

"Of course, happy to help out." Oscar's face lights up in a soft blush.

.......

They ended up back at Noel's place, and he gathered the order of the fallen star would meet in a months time. Oscar went back to his parish, but he would be helping out. John didn't understand why Arthur insisted on that fact. Speaking of Arthur, he seemed to finally fall asleep. It's time for him to stew alone with his thoughts.

A low animalistic growl broke John from any peace.

John moved his hand, and Arthur was snoring loudly like that didn't happen.

"Don't.... don't.... hate... you." The voice growls as if it wasn't used to speaking. It sounded as if it was Arthur's voice but pitched down and thrown into a blender.

"Where are you, fiend?" John growled as Arthur turned over, trapping John's hand under him. "Shit."

"Wolf....."

"Wolf?" John paused and recalled Oscar talking about his own Wolf. "You're Arthur's wolf?"

The voice growls. "Don't..... belong....."

John can imagine the wolf pawing at their muzzle, trying to get words out. "Our plans are to separate if that is what concerns you."

The wolf growls deep and low.

"Do you..." John pauses why was he entertaining this beast it will only effect them during a full moon. It sounded like a child.

The wolf went quiet, and John felt a tug, and suddenly, the scenery changed.

John was in a tattered yellow robe. A broken white mask was his face while black spills from the cracks. His lower half was a mass of tendrils, his arms were long, and his hands long with sharp talons. He didn't have time to process as sharp teeth bit into his shoulder.

"Own.... you." The giant wolf growls through his teeth.

John pulled himself away, and his shoulder stung as he watched the wolf sit and stare. He didn't know what this place was, and it definitely wasn't a dream. "What did you do?"

"Arthur.... owns you.... no..." The wolf growls and turns away. "Wake...."

"Wake?" John tries to move forward, and he is suddenly slammed back, staring at the ceiling as the first rays of sun shine in the window.

Arthur yawns. "Morning." He sits up and rubs his eyes. "Sorry, force of habit."

"Arthur what the fuck." John stares forward stunned.

"What?" Arthur yawns and scratched his stubble.

John pauses. "You weren't there?"

"I wasn't where?" Arthur gets up and smooths out the bed.

"There was a wolf, and it had your hair color. It spoke to me." John was careful with his next words. "I had a body, and the wolf bit me."

"Did you dream?" Arthur sounded genuinely curious.

"It wasn't a dream, I don't sleep." John huffs.

Arthur pauses and casually rubs John's hand. "I think that might have been my wolf." He frowns. "We don't overlap, Oscar explained it better, but the thing we share is instincts and unconscious behaviors. I've only ever encountered it once when I was first turned during my first full moon. It stripped me of my humanity it was not a pleasant experience."

"Should I try to befriend it?"

"I don't know John. You're the one in my subconscious. If what you tell me happened, then I have to be asleep for you two to interact, and that means I can't interfere." Arthur reaches out for his bag to pull out fresh clothes.

"I suppose befriending would be in my best interest, I rather not be bitten again." John groans. "We should talk to Oscar."

Arthur smirks. "Glad to see you're happy we have friends."

"Fuck you." John huffs.

.......

Oscar knew it was Arthur who opened the doors to the church before he turned around. Ever since the previous night and the black fluid, his senses have gotten even stronger, and his wolf is more vocal. He spots a few nuns looking his way and shakes his head. They were a bit too invested in his full moon habits. He turns to face Arthur and realizes he still has a ways to go before they are close enough to actually talk. He walks forward and stops in front of Arthur. "What brings you back? I thought you were discussing things with the detective today."

Arthur clears his throat. "Could we talk in your office? John and I would like to speak with you."

Oscar nods. "Of course, follow me." Heads them to his office and shuts the doors, and with a click of a lock, the doors were sealed. "How can I help you two?"

Arthur takes a seat shifting uncomfortably. There is a strong scent in the air, and it is filled with things he hasn't really felt in years. He sneezes and rubs his nose. "Sorry.... yes, I'm getting there." He sighs. "John met my wolf while I slept."

"Oh." Oscar tilts his head. "Ok, um, I don't know what you want me to say."

"He wants to know what your wolf is like, to gauge how he should approach it when he is dragged to my subconscious." Arthur frowns. "No, I'm not bringing that up."

Oscar sits back and taps his fingers against his old desk. "Dangerous and opinionated." He frowns and crosses his legs. "Territorial, and unfortunately, it's become harder to separate ourselves when he's always in my ear and the instincts sing in my blood. He isn't smart by human standards, but he is an animal. I don't expect him to be that way. Incapable of lying and cunning." He grimaced and scratched his beard. "Show yourself to not be a threat. You have to remember they are animals with dangerous nature's."

"What's your wolf saying now?" Arthur raised his brow.

Oscar gave a sheepish expression. "Nothing appropriate for this place of worship." He sighs. "I don't claim to be a good priest or even a good man, but I would like to help others. You've helped me, Arthur, and I only wish I could do the same for you." He pauses. "Ah, r-right John, did that help?"

"He says you're giving mindless beasts too much credit." Arthur sighs.

Oscar's eyes, the pupils dialate into lines for a moment, and he holds his head. "Please refrain from calling him that. I mean that for both of our sakes." He rubs his eyes, and they return to normal.

"Are you alright?" Arthur gets up from his seat.

Oscar holds out his hand. "Fine, I'm fine. Wolf got a bit riled it shall pass. It's unfortunate that John wasn't aware of werewolves, I have a few questions about my own about the outer world and why the creatures only make the wolf stronger."

Arthur sits back down. "What do you mean? Scratch wasn't at the barn." He pauses and nods, listening to John.

"I told you before about my first encounter of scratch." Oscar pauses as Arthur nods again. "Marie didn't exactly pick her sister as the first choice after her husband. She used her husband to get me there, but I don't blame her she was scared and just needed help."

"Oscar...."

Oscar shakes his head. "Well, a simple knock on my head got me to the floor. I woke up coughing up a black flem, and well, my wolf was aware." His lips pull into a frown. "My wolf is very insistent that they finished their meal after the night in the barn. Now, I don't exactly know what that means, but I know I haven't felt a need to eat since. Which isn't entirely uncommon after a full moon. My wolf tends to over indulge in wildlife. But after the first encounter with Scratch, I was coughing up that black flem for weeks, I haven't since the barn. Well, I'm drawing this out, but does John know what that is about?"

Arthur's face went from serious to confusion to bewildered. "He only said I'm befriending the wolf before it kills me. John, do you think my wolf would kill you? John, be serious, I highly doubt Oscar's wolf killed and ate the fragment of an old one. Yes, I know Marie thanked us for her sister's return." He sighs heavily. "I apologize, Oscar."

"No, no, it's ok. For what it's worth, I feel the same Arthur. To kill and eat a god would be madness, even a fragment." Oscar pauses. "I'm still getting used to these outer realms and old gods. If anything, it's strengthened my faith here because it means my god could be real."

"I'm glad Oscar." Arthur frowns. "I'm not going to take a nap, John, so you can start playing nice."

Oscar chuckles. "How about I treat you two to some lunch? I'm sure Noel would like to keep us both in the loop for future plans."

Arthur nods. "Yes, he is meeting with his contact today."

......

"Good, you both made it." Noel, let's both Oscar and Arthur inside his office. "Now I told you over the phone Dennis is joining us. He'll be pretending to work for Larson while getting us information. Don't kill him."

Dennis chuckles from his seat and tips his hat with a smile. "Still alive boyo, and the good priest you're in this as well."

Oscar looked away. "R-right." He takes a seat next to Dennis, so Arthur didn't have to be next to him.

Arthur took his seat. "Butcher."

"Still with those eyes of yours." Dennis hums.

Noel sighs. "Now that's enough. We need to go over our plan . It is odd that the meeting begins during the day, but they want everyone there for the rise of the moon. Something about the full moon or something, it's a cult they have reasons for everything."

Arthur frowns. "The full moon is important? Is there any particular reason why?"

"The most we gather so far, it's for a ritual." Noel motions to Dennis.

"Something about separation, Larson is keeping strict timetables." Dennis shrugs. "But everyone will be there."

"Seporation?" Arthur hums and furrows his brows. "It's nothing good."

"Seporation from what?" Oscar scratches his chin and stares off into the distance. He stiffens and mumbles something in Latin.

"What wolf are you referring to priest?" Dennis smirks.

Oscar frowns and looks over to Dennis. "You know Latin?" He sighs. "None of which concern you, Dennis."

Arthur raised a brow and thins his lips. "Is there anything else of concern?"

"No, right now, we are just collecting information and staying low." Noel sighs. "However, Dennis, you will be playing a good little errand boy to Larson to keep up appearances."

Dennis gets up and tilts his hat. "See you later, priest." He states his regards in Latin and leaves.

Oscar bites his lip and draws blood. "My apologies for my behavior." He gets up suddenly. "I must go. You may call me at the parish if you need me." He rushed out of the room before either man can speak.

Noel raised his brow even higher. "Do you know what that was about?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Arthur sighs.

......

John sighed again louder.

"What do you want, John? It's too early to sleep. We have time to actually relax." Arthur frowns.

"I merely wish to befriend the wolf for my own safety." John huffs.

"I highly doubt that my wolf could eat a fragment of a deity. John, what Oscar told us could mean anything, and Scratch could just be a creature from the outer realms." Arthur pinched his brow. "You're perfectly safe."

John grumbles. "Fine."

"Just enjoy the peace." Arthur hums softly.

.......

John could cry, Arthur finally headed to bed, and he could feel his breathing even out to signal he was asleep. He waited, but no growl, not tugging pain. There was nothing!

"What the fuck." John tapped impatiently on Arthur's chest to match the heartbeat. Arthur made no move to wake, nor was there anything off about this arrangement. He stewed in his own thoughts as he counted Arthur's heartbeats.

A new noise alerted John to something. This was Noel's place, Arthur moved over here after helping Marie with Hattie. He looked from the singular gaze of where Arthur laid but could see nothing. He's thankful his partner learned to sleep with his eyes open.

"Oh fuck." That was Noel, his voice was full if sleep and the sound of shuffling feet are heard. "Didn't think the kid slept with eyes open. Fucking freaky."

John cautiously moved his hand to alert Noel he was awake.

Noel pauses. "Right. Arthur mentioned you can't sleep."

John moves his hand like a nod.

Noel yawns. "Sorry about that, John."

John watches Noel creep into his vision. He seemed tired and pale, frail in the moonlight.

"Nights like tonight feel too peaceful." Noel sighs, rubbing his face. "At any moment, something could go wrong. I have to remind myself I'm not there. Not in that hell, yaknow." He doesn't smile. "Goodnight John."

John could hear a low growl, but that was it for the night. It set him on edge until Arthur woke up.

......

[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

[anatomyfordummies]

Muscles of Forearm and Wrist

Key things to know about the muscles of the forearm and wrist that will get you through 99% of questions about the muscles of the forearm and wrist:

When your arm is out with the palm face up, the ulna is on the pinky side and the radius is on the thumb side!

The clue is in the name! If it has Ulnar in the name you know it’s going to be roughly on the pinky side of your arm, if it has Carpi you know it will probably attach in the hand, Digitorum will attach to the digits, etc

(like 90% of muscles you can take a stab at where they are and what they do by their name, way easier than learning the function and precise location of each individual one, like learn the name and the compartment)

If it has radialis in it, it will ABDUCT, if it has ulnaris in it, it will ADDUCT (trust me on this)

Anterior forearm compartment = MEDIAN NERVE (except flexor carpi ulnaris bc it's ulnar nerve since you know it has ULNAR IN THE NAME) and FLEXION, divide into superficial, intermediate and deep layers of muscles

Posterior forearm compartment = RADIAL NERVE and EXTENSION (except brachioradialis and supinator), divide into superficial and deep layers of muscles

[i warned you about exceptions]

Muscles in the forearm compartments are EXTRINSIC (crude, powerful movements), muscles in the hand are INTRINSIC (fine, delicate movements)

All the movements at the wrist are done by forearm muscles, the hands have got enough to deal with

They say the carpal tunnel has 9 tendons and the median nerve BUT it’s only three muscles! Learn the three muscles (literally all flexors which makes sense bc the carpal tunnel is on the anterior wrist) (flexor digitorum superficialis, flexor digitorum profundus, flexor pollicis longus, like just remember flexing fingers and you’re gold)

(profoundus means deep btw, like profound thinking, superficialis means superficial i am not going to tell you about the names of things being the key to anatomy again)

If you hear collateral ligament, always think about stabilisation of a joint! They lurk on either side of joints responsible for flexion and extension, so that the bones don’t go side-to-side (ariana grande style), they bend and snap (elle woods style), the hand is full of them but they are also in the elbow, knee, etc

(i chose the forearm bc there are 20 muscles and i know i found that overwhelming at first but you can do this, just simplify it and LOOK AT THE NAME AND WHICH COMPARTMENT IT IS IN AND I PROMISE IT WILL BE EASY)

Extra: i like to imagine i am a puppet and to move my limbs i must pull on a string, so if my palm is face up and i want to flex my wrist, i pull the string and it helps to tell you what compartment the muscle is in that does that [remember you are a cheat sheet]

[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.