Finally!
Next three! Count yourself lucky to get these now, cause I think I'm nearly dead here. So tired. Anyway will try to do some lantern fic later but it may have to wait until the w/e. I will hopefully have time then.
Control
Long fingers trailed slowly over a strong muscled arm, the owner of which was still deep under the effects of the sedatives which had been slipped into his wine.
A soft purr as he drew the wrist up to the corner of the bed and wrapped the heavy leather straps around it. Pulled tight. Slipped in the catch and tugged to check.
Repeated the action on the second wrist. Ankles wrapped in leather and chained to the two bed posts. Sturdy, studded, black leather for a collar. Chained to the old wood of the bed head.
He smirked and pulled out his blade, sliced the diamond hard edge through the armour covering the broad chest below him and chased it down all the way to recently bared feet. Tugging slowly, he pulled the armour off, cutting it away when necessary. Grinned, teeth flashing white, at the naked man below him.
With a, not quite light, slap to the man's thigh, he stood and moved to get everything ready. It was time to show him who was really in control here.
He struggled through the fog of unnatural sleep. Tried to move but couldn't. Instantly awake, but still, he tested his bonds. Tight, but not damaging, impossible to get out of. Surface underneath him was soft, a bed? The air was too cold, his armour was gone. Weapons too, of course. He couldn't remember ever being this helpless before.
Movement. Someone had noticed his awakening. He stayed still. The bed shifted under him, press of muscle. Muscle clad in slippery fabric.
He opened his eye. White out lenses stared back at him from a dark blue mask under night black hair. Teeth flashed at him in a vicious grin. He stared up at the young hero above him, crouched over him, pinning his hips down with long and supple legs. Nomex slid across his skin as the young bat lowered himself until his lips brushed against the other's ear. And purred.
"Now we'll see who is really in charge here, Slade."
Word Count: 343
Fuzzy
Angel had always been curios, couldn't help it, he'd been born that way.
It nagged at him, even when the subject of his curiosity was nowhere around him.
He couldn't help it. That fur...it just looked so soft and silky, like you could just sit there all day, stroking it and never get bored.
He watched the other man, grace inherent in every move that lithe blue body made, the sensuous sweep of that long blue tail, but he never spoke of it.
It ended up he didn't have to.
A soft voice spoke behind him one day. "You watch me all the time Warren." He was so startled he nearly took flight. Gold eyes glowed with amusement. "You can touch if you want. You only need to ask." His accent had cleared over the years but his voice still held an exotic quality that Warren had always enjoyed listening to.
He reached out slowly, shyly, and laid a hand against Nightcrawler's cheek. The fur under his fingers was sleek but it wasn't enough.
An encouraging smile, one gleaming fang showing against the blue mutants lower lip, and he slid his hand around, down and then up. He stroked the fur under the other man's shirts, smoothing his hand over lithe muscles and narrow shoulder blades. A three fingered hand reached out and brushed against his wing. He shivered.
"I was always curious how soft your feathers were, mien freund."
Word count: 243
Lost
He dreamed.
A dark place. Endless.
Webs everywhere but none relayed any vibrations.
Senses told nothing. Weakness invaded his body. He struggled to walk. To stand.
No sound. No smells. No movement in the air.
Yet still terror beat at his mind. A need to be somewhere. Where?
Alone.
Lost.
But there...there...light?
A shape. A body. A person, standing, hand held out.
He tried to run but couldn’t, couldn’t walk, could barely crawl. Wouldn’t give up.
Warmth.
A hand on his shoulder, another’s worry washing over him. Arms around him. Lifting him.
Safety.
Harry Osbourne lifted the man gently. Slipping his arms around the slim hero and cradling his battered body to his chest. Unbelieving the dishonesty of other villains. Poison was for weaklings. His spider wouldn’t die like this.
Word count: 133
That was actually really difficult and surprisingly easy at the same time.
Control
Long fingers trailed slowly over a strong muscled arm, the owner of which was still deep under the effects of the sedatives which had been slipped into his wine.
A soft purr as he drew the wrist up to the corner of the bed and wrapped the heavy leather straps around it. Pulled tight. Slipped in the catch and tugged to check.
Repeated the action on the second wrist. Ankles wrapped in leather and chained to the two bed posts. Sturdy, studded, black leather for a collar. Chained to the old wood of the bed head.
He smirked and pulled out his blade, sliced the diamond hard edge through the armour covering the broad chest below him and chased it down all the way to recently bared feet. Tugging slowly, he pulled the armour off, cutting it away when necessary. Grinned, teeth flashing white, at the naked man below him.
With a, not quite light, slap to the man's thigh, he stood and moved to get everything ready. It was time to show him who was really in control here.
He struggled through the fog of unnatural sleep. Tried to move but couldn't. Instantly awake, but still, he tested his bonds. Tight, but not damaging, impossible to get out of. Surface underneath him was soft, a bed? The air was too cold, his armour was gone. Weapons too, of course. He couldn't remember ever being this helpless before.
Movement. Someone had noticed his awakening. He stayed still. The bed shifted under him, press of muscle. Muscle clad in slippery fabric.
He opened his eye. White out lenses stared back at him from a dark blue mask under night black hair. Teeth flashed at him in a vicious grin. He stared up at the young hero above him, crouched over him, pinning his hips down with long and supple legs. Nomex slid across his skin as the young bat lowered himself until his lips brushed against the other's ear. And purred.
"Now we'll see who is really in charge here, Slade."
Word Count: 343
Fuzzy
Angel had always been curios, couldn't help it, he'd been born that way.
It nagged at him, even when the subject of his curiosity was nowhere around him.
He couldn't help it. That fur...it just looked so soft and silky, like you could just sit there all day, stroking it and never get bored.
He watched the other man, grace inherent in every move that lithe blue body made, the sensuous sweep of that long blue tail, but he never spoke of it.
It ended up he didn't have to.
A soft voice spoke behind him one day. "You watch me all the time Warren." He was so startled he nearly took flight. Gold eyes glowed with amusement. "You can touch if you want. You only need to ask." His accent had cleared over the years but his voice still held an exotic quality that Warren had always enjoyed listening to.
He reached out slowly, shyly, and laid a hand against Nightcrawler's cheek. The fur under his fingers was sleek but it wasn't enough.
An encouraging smile, one gleaming fang showing against the blue mutants lower lip, and he slid his hand around, down and then up. He stroked the fur under the other man's shirts, smoothing his hand over lithe muscles and narrow shoulder blades. A three fingered hand reached out and brushed against his wing. He shivered.
"I was always curious how soft your feathers were, mien freund."
Word count: 243
Lost
He dreamed.
A dark place. Endless.
Webs everywhere but none relayed any vibrations.
Senses told nothing. Weakness invaded his body. He struggled to walk. To stand.
No sound. No smells. No movement in the air.
Yet still terror beat at his mind. A need to be somewhere. Where?
Alone.
Lost.
But there...there...light?
A shape. A body. A person, standing, hand held out.
He tried to run but couldn’t, couldn’t walk, could barely crawl. Wouldn’t give up.
Warmth.
A hand on his shoulder, another’s worry washing over him. Arms around him. Lifting him.
Safety.
Harry Osbourne lifted the man gently. Slipping his arms around the slim hero and cradling his battered body to his chest. Unbelieving the dishonesty of other villains. Poison was for weaklings. His spider wouldn’t die like this.
Word count: 133
That was actually really difficult and surprisingly easy at the same time.