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vodika-vibes · 9 months ago

Note

Hi hi Ive just seen you're bouquet request is coming g go an end I'd LOVE Acica(Secret love) ambrosia (returned affections) for Commander fox (I adore him)

If you need any baseline idea maybe him just refusing to accept his feelings and after some kinda push finally is like shit like them ofc reader loves him back and has the whole time

I'd also be happy with any of the more classicly grumpy fellas eg alpha 17, but who ever is in your brain

A New Love

Summary: Fox is in love with his friend...he just refuses to admit it to anyone, including himself.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Mentions of Palpatine physically abusing Fox

Prompts: Acacia - Secret love, Ambrosia - returned affections

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I don't really know anything about make-up because I'm allergic to almost all of it and so I don't wear it. So I apologize if anything is wrong. Also, I hope this is close to what you're wanting? I was struggling to come up with something good here.

“Will you hold still?” Fox rolls his eyes but stops moving as she carefully applies the makeup to his jaw and cheek, “Do you want me to cover the scars on your neck too?” She asks as she tilts his head to the side so she can see better.

“Probably should.” He replies with a sigh, “Don’t want my brothers to ask any questions that I can’t answer.”

She scowls at him, “Maybe you should let them ask questions, Fox.”

“You said you were willing to help without judgment, sen’ika.” He reminds her with a pointed look.

She sighs, “I am. Of course I am. I’m here, aren’t I?” She pulls away and eyes the covered scar critically, “Alright, open your shirt so I can to your neck and chest.”

Fox rolls his eyes again, and unfastens the clip at his neck, exposing his neck enough that she’s able to get to the scar.

She inhales sharply when she sees just how bad the scarring is, “...Fox-”

“You promised.” He reminds her flatly.

“Yes. I know. I know I did.” Her voice sounds thick with tears, and Fox feels a surge of guilt. If he had anyone else who would help him cover his injuries he would go to them, rather than bothering his one nat-born friend.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

She shakes her head, a weak smile on her painted lips, “It’s okay. I was pushing, and I promised that I wouldn’t.”

“It’s for your own safety.” Fox mutters, his eyes closing as she goes to work.

“I know. So you keep saying.” Her hands are warm against his skin as she gently applies the make-up to cover the scarring. She’s quiet for a moment, and then she sighs, “Sorry, I have to restart. These scars are redder, I need to do some color correction.”

Fox opens his eyes and watches as she pulls a wipe from the table and starts wiping the makeup off his neck, and then she crosses the room to her vanity and digs around for some other make-up.

He really is lucky to have her.

Fox knows that he’d never be able to explain these scars to his brothers. Or, he doesn’t want to explain these scars to his brothers, rather. He pushes the swell of bitterness away with ease. He loves his brothers, he wouldn’t want any of them to be in his place.

But it would be nice if they noticed that he was suffering.

At least his sen’ika sees it.

She’s a make-up artist, who works at one of the largest and most well respected theaters on Coruscant. She invited herself into his life, and Fox has to admit that his life is all the better for it.

Partly because she keeps his secrets and is able to help him hide his scars and bruises from his brothers. But mostly because she’s a genuinely good person.

It’s not love.

It’s not.

He can’t afford to love anyone, not with the state of the galaxy. Not when his boss throws lightning around like it’s nothing.

Sure, he thinks about her all of the time. And sure, he worries about her constantly.

But he doesn’t love her. He can’t.

“Ha! Found it!” She hurries back to his side with a tube of something green, “I’ll use some of this first,” She murmurs, “And that’ll help hide the red-”

“You’re the best, you know that?” Fox asks, leaning back as she applies the color corrector to the scar.

“Well, I try.” She takes a step back and sets the tube back on the table, “How are you feeling, by the way? You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I work a lot.”

She sighs, “I’ll cover the dark circles under your eyes too. But, Fox, this isn’t feasible in the long term.”

“I know it isn’t, sen’ika.” Fox replies quietly, “I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to cover my scars as regularly as you do.”

“Yeah, well…” She grabs the concealer and then points it at him, “It’s not like the Republic bothers to pay you, so this is quite literally the least I can do. Normally you’re not this concerned though.”

“Yeah, well. I’m going to 79s with my brothers this afternoon,” Fox says with a sigh, “And I don’t want them to worry.”

“Oh?” She grins at him, “Maybe I’ll join you.”

Fox glances up at her, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah? Looking for a boyfriend among my brothers?” He asks as he ignores the pang of jealousy.

“Maybe I want to dance with you.” She counters.

Fox laughs softly, “That’s a terrible idea.”

Her smile falters, “Right. Of course. I just…I wish you would tell me why it’s such a bad idea for me to spend time with you.”

“It’s complicated.”

She sighs, “Right. You could just say that you’re not interested, Fox. I won’t be mad.”

He sighs, “The more time you spend with me, the more likely it is that you’re going to get hurt.” Fox says, “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She pulls back slightly to admire her work, “Alright. You’re done, Fox.”

“Awesome. Thanks, sen’ika.” He refastens his shirt and stands, only for her to press his helmet into his hands, “I don’t deserve you.” Fox says with a fond smile.

“Nonsense.” She shakes her head, “You deserve everything in the galaxy and then some.” She favors him with a small, adoring smile. “I’m still planning on going to 79s tonight, Fox. I’ll just…keep my distance and find someone else to dance with. Promise.”

Fox’s fingers flex against his helmet. He’s not jealous. He’s not.

“Sounds like a plan.”

She smiles at him and hugs him quickly, “Be careful, as careful as you can be, at work today. There’s only so much I can hide.”

He folds his arm around her, “It’s not up to me, but I’ll be as careful as possible. Promise.” He drops a light kiss to the top of her head, and then pulls himself out of her grip, and heads out of the apartment.

Fox genuinely didn’t think that his sen’ika was going to come to 79s. He knows her, pretty well by this point, and he knows that she’s not really into the club scene.

She doesn’t like loud music, or the scent of stale beer, or the press of strangers against her.

So when he sees her enter the club, he nearly chokes on his drink.

She looks…great. Wearing a miniskirt and a crop top, and leather boots that make her legs look amazing.

Fox isn’t surprised to see that she’s drawing attention from his brothers. She’s already stunning, after all.

His gaze lingers on her as she heads to the bar, and his grip tightens around his bottle when he sees several of his brothers crowding around her. She probably hates that, Fox can’t help but think with a small smile.

“She’s pretty,” Wolffe notes lightly, his gaze following his twins, “You should go dance with her.”

“Pass.” Fox replies, though he keeps his dark gaze on her, “Besides, she’s got enough admirers as it is.”

“Yeah. But they’re shinies and you’re Marshal Commander.” Wolffe replies with a small smirk, “You should feel honor bound to save her from their drooling.”

“I’m trying to get drunk, vod.”

“Maybe I’ll go and ask her to dance.” Wolffe muses, as he leans to the side to get a good look at her legs.

“Maybe you should leave her alone.” Fox bites out.

Wolffe pauses and leans back in his seat, his eyes locked on his twin. “Huh. You know her, don’t you?”

Fox doesn’t answer him, he just takes a sip of his drink, though a small smile crosses his face when his sen’ika meets his gaze from across the room. Though she’s quick to look away, likely remembering her promise to not bother him.

“You know her well,” Wolffe continues, his eyes narrowing accusingly, “I saw that look. You’re friends with her.”

“Wolffe-”

“No, no. Why didn’t you tell me you had a pretty natborn friend? Are you sleeping with her?”

“What? No!”

“Why not?” Wolffe demands.

“Our friendship isn’t like that.” Fox bites out.

“Bullshit. I saw that look. You want her.” Wolffe says, “I’m going to get her and bring her over here.”

“I…no-” but there’s no point, Wolffe is already up from the table and crossing to the bar.

Fox watches as Wolffe talks to his sen’ika, and he watches as she glances at Fox, and then back at Wolffe and shakes her head with a small smile. He can practically hear her telling Wolffe that she promised to keep her distance tonight.

And then one of the shinies flings his arm over her shoulder and she cringes.

Fox sets his bottle down on the table as the shiny presses himself right against his sen’ika and twines some of her hair around his fingers. He watches as the shiny rubs his cheek against hers, and he’s on his feet and crossing the bar before he really thinks about it.

She’s his, damn it.

He firmly pries the shiny off of her, “Did you ask the lady if you could touch her?” Fox asks his voice flat.

The Shiny blinks at him hazily, and then he straightens, “Marshal Commander-”

“I suggest you go and clear your head.” Fox says, his voice very unamused, and then his gaze lingers on his Sen’ika once the shiny leaves. “Are you okay?”

She smiles sheepishly, “I guess I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to come here.”

“It’s not really your scene, sen’ika.” Fox points out, gently.

“Yeah, I know.” She pushes her hand through her hair, “I guess I’ll just go home then.” She smiles up at him, “Sorry for ruining your night, Fox. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Fox replies, “I’m always happy to see you, you know that.” Her smile grows and Fox releases an internal sigh, he’s so karked. Why did he have to realize that he loved her now, of all times?

Fox glances at his twin, who has a wide grin on his face, “I’m going to walk her out. Please don’t make this a thing.”

“Oh. Too late. It’s a thing.” Wolffe puts out his comm, “I’m telling…everyone?”

Fox just sighs and lightly nudges his sen’ika towards the door.

Once they’re outside, he turns to face her while she waits for her taxi to arrive, “Sorry, again. It seems I made things difficult for you.” She says sheepishly.

“Wolffe is my twin, he’s always going to be difficult.” Fox admits, “It’s not your fault.” He hesitates and then he lightly reaches out and brushes his fingers against her cheek. “I am glad that I got to see you tonight.”

“But…you said-”

“I know what I said. I’m an idiot.” Fox interrupts, he lightly brushes his thumb against her cheek, “I want, no need, you to know that I’m not uninterested.”

She blinks at him. “What?”

“Earlier, at your apartment. You said that you wanted me to let you know if I wasn’t interested.” Fox clarifies, “And that’s not the case. At all.”

“Oh,” She breathes the word out.

“I’m just…terrified that someone will hurt you to get to me.”

“I know. I’ve known that for a while.” She admits, “But, Fox, I don’t care.”

He stares at her, “You don’t?”

“I love you enough that it doesn’t bother me.” She speaks so lightly, so nonchalantly, as if she’s not admitting something huge.

Fox sighs and lightly cups her cheek, and he smiles when she leans into his touch, “I think we need to have a long chat.” He finally says, “Tomorrow. In the morning.”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll make breakfast.” She beams at him, and then turns as her cab pulls up. She flashes a quick smile and kisses his cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning, Fox.”

“Yeah. Good night, Sen’ika.”

And then she is gone, and Fox realizes that he has to deal with his overly excitable brothers for the remainder of the night. Tonight’s going to suck.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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ladytauria · 11 months ago

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i am soooo predictable but.... Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. for jaytim my beloved <33333

i combined this prompt with these two---or, well. this prompt from you and @waffleinator-inator <3

um. click under the cut for 3k of slow, tender jaytim body worship <3

this is. barely proofread. apologies for any mistakes ^^; pls don't be afraid to point out any typos <333 i will give this a more thorough edit tomorrow--probably. for now! enjoy <3

>> AO3 <<

Jason has a body made to be worshiped, in Tim’s opinion. How lucky he is to have him spread out on cotton sheets, naked as the day he was born, so utterly willing to let Tim have his way with him.

Tim starts at his feet. He cups his hand around one ankle, raising it in the air, pressing the softest of kisses to the sole. Tim isn’t particularly into feet, the way some people are—but he adores how sensitive they are. As if in testament, Jason jerks. Tim’s grip is firm, keeping him in place, but his toes curl.

“T-Tim,” he says, too tremulous to be properly chiding. Color blooms over his face, the loveliest shade of rose-red.

“Jason,” Tim replies, a little bit mocking, a little bit a reminder. He decides how this is going to go. Just to really let it sink in, he kisses again; this time with a hint of tongue. The bitten off noise he gets is delightful. His mouth curls.

He kisses Jason’s ankle next; lingering over the jut of it. He angles his neck to kiss the tendon, his achilles heel, before lifting the leg higher so he can trail a string of kisses up Jason’s calf.

Both of them are scarred all over—a hazard of the job. Tim gets grafts put on anything too obvious; anything else can be simply explained away by both the treacherous nature of Gotham City and his own athletic pursuits. Jason has not had the same luxury. Nor does Tim think he would take it if anyone offered it. Jason’s scars are part of him, whether he likes them or not, and he doesn’t let go of what belongs to him.

It’s a trait they share.

Jason doesn’t have many scars on his calves, though, and those that are there are faded. Tim pays extra attention to them anyway.

He doesn’t get another noise until he reaches the back of Jason’s knee—the skin there is thin and delicate, and he knows from experience that it’s one of Jason’s sensitive spots. He nuzzles first; relishing in Jason’s sharp intake of breath. Then he kisses with the slightest scrape of teeth. Jason makes a low, tremulous sound.

Tim glances up at him—he has an arm thrown over his face. His teeth dig into his lip, and his face and throat are both still painted red. His other hand fists the sheets.

Precious.

Tim repeats the process on the other leg—Jason trembles and twitches under the ministrations. Tim relishes each and every reaction. He loves how responsive Jason is. He reacts so beautifully to gentleness. It makes Tim want to keep him like this forever.

Tim skips over his thighs for now. Jason’s cock is still mostly soft. Tim can’t help the urge to plant a kiss on it, the flesh soft and hot under his lips. Jason makes a high, embarrassed sound, his flush darkening, spreading over his chest. Tim’s mouth twitches, unable to resist doing it again.

His firm grip on Jason’s thighs is all that keeps them from snapping shut; a second, higher noise escaping him at the same time. He looks up at Tim, eyes already wide and a little pleading.

It breaks Tim’s heart a little, how easily Jason folds under a bit of softness.

At the same time—it’s truly a pleasure to see him so sweet and vulnerable under him. “Ah-ah,” he scolds. “You’re mine right now. I want to enjoy you.”

Jason’s bottom lip is red and swollen, caught between his teeth again. His eyes are glossy. “Y-yes sir,” he whispers, a tremor in his voice.

Tim rubs his thighs reassuringly. “Just lie back and relax, sweetheart.”

Jason hesitates a moment. Tim waits for him to use his safe word, or otherwise indicate he’s too overwhelmed to continue, but—then he settles back down again.

As soon as he’s relaxed again, Tim slides his hands up to Jason’s hips. He nuzzles his belly, before kissing down the trail of hair leading to his groin. Tim trails more kisses over his pelvic bone, nibbling a little at his love handles, and the pouch of fat over his groin. He lavishes his stretch marks with attention, too; following their paths with his tongue, tasting the salt of his skin.

Jason’s breaths come faster now; bitten off moans and gasps getting stuck in his throat. Tim hates how quiet he is—well. That’s not quite true. He wouldn’t mind if Jason was quiet naturally. What he hates is the way Jason suppresses all noise; like he’s afraid of letting on just how good he’s feeling.

That’s alright, though. Tim has time, and plenty of patience. He can coax those pretty sounds out of him.

He makes sure to pay special attention to the places on Jason’s sides where he’s most sensitive, delighting in the way he squirms. Then, finally, he goes back to Jason’s stomach, where the bottom of his Y-incision starts, and follows it up to Jason’s chest, kissing to each end, and then back to the middle again.

Jason’s breaths sound wetter now—Tim rubs his sides reassuringly, glancing up at him just as a quick check-in. Jason smiles tremulously; a sheen of tears over his eyes. Tim smiles back at him and nuzzles his collarbone.

He cups Jason’s chest in his hands; the relaxed muscle of his pecs not that different from a pair of tits. Jason arches into his hands when he squeezes, sighing sweetly. Tim tweaks his nipples with his thumbs; the buds already hard and pointed despite the heater warming the bedroom.

As much as Tim wants to suck one into his mouth, he decides the circuitous path is the better one. He follows the defined line of his pectorals with his lips and tongue—cups and squeezes them again so he can bite them.

Jason is panting now—his hands coming to rest on Tim’s ribs, the breadth of them almost spanning his whole ribcage. It’s insanely hot. He can feel his cock filling out more, the arousal in his gut starting to burn hotter, more insistent.

Tim takes one of his nipples in his mouth. He sucks, swirling his tongue around the bud—the low groan he gets in response reverberates through Jason’s chest. Tim suckles at it for a bit before gentling his mouth, licking at the skin a few times before scraping it with his teeth.

The whimper Jason makes is loud and unrestrained in the silence—followed quickly by the slap of skin on skin when he covers his mouth, cheeks blazing scarlet.

Tim immediately slides up, taking Jason’s wrist in his hand. He pulls his hand from his mouth, pressing a brief kiss to his palm before kissing his cheek as well. Then he nuzzles him too, mouth against his jaw as he whispers, “Let me hear you, baby. I want to know I’m making you feel good.” He pauses. “You deserve to feel good.”

Another, quieter whimper. Jason squeezes his eyes shut—moisture gathers in the corner of his eyes.

Tim hums, lingering there, giving Jason time to compose himself. Eventually his eyes open again. He blinks quickly to dispel the tears, and then says softly, “I— I’ll try, sir.”

Tim smiles at him, kissing his nose. “Good boy. Thank you.”

That makes him close his eyes again, a shiver rocking his body. Tim gives him another second, and then returns to Jason’s chest. He follows the same path around the other pec; gives his right nipple the same attention as his left.

Jason does well at first, soft sighs and sounds escaping him. But the first higher, louder noise he makes startles him, his mouth immediately clamping shut again.

He opens it again as Tim trails kisses over his shoulders. He sits back so he can kiss down his arm; over his bicep, the inner part of his elbow, down his forearm, his wrists. He kisses his palms, and each fingertip.

Back up again—down the other. Tears trickle down Jason’s cheeks now; his breaths hitching softly. He’s so pretty when he cries. Tim admits he gets a little eager, going back over his shoulders, his neck, not lingering as long as he means to. (Though he does, at least, remember to spend a little extra time on his throat scar.)

At his face again, Tim rubs noses with him before kissing the tears away; licking the salt from his lips. “You’re doing so well for me, darling,” he murmurs. As much as he wants to lay the praise on thick, he doesn’t dare—not yet. Instead he kisses his chin, jaw, and cheeks. He nuzzles their noses again, kisses the corners of his mouth, over his eyelids, and the center of his forehead. He kisses back down his nose and ends at his mouth, kissing Jason deep and sweet.

Jason utterly melts beneath him. His mouth opens easily to Tim’s tongue. It’s Tim’s mouth that muffles his moan this time, but otherwise, there’s nothing restrained about it.

It’s music.

Makes Tim linger a little longer, just to hear more of them. And Jason gives them to him, his hands spasming on Tim’s skin.

When he pulls away, a line of spit connects them. It breaks when Tim pecks him again, and then slides down his body. Jason’s cock bumps his stomach on the way down—no longer soft but half-hard. Tim rubs his cheek against it when he passes it, returning to Jason’s thighs.

Fuck.

Jason’s thighs are glorious. Strong, muscular, easily capable of crushing a man’s skull. Dusted with fine hair, shimmering with stretch marks, and textured with a few ridged scars. Tim explores all of it with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

Jason tries—Tim can tell he does. But he keeps muffling himself, automatically biting his lip and clenching his jaw when he thinks he’s going to be too loud.

Tim finishes with his thighs. He nuzzled the base of his cock, cupping his balls in one hand and squeezing. That gets him a breathy sound, his thighs trembling. Tim kisses up his shaft, all the way to the flared mushroom head at the top. He rubs his cheeks against it; precome smearing sticky on his skin.

More high, whimpery moans come from Jason. His body shakes. The musk of his arousal fills Tim’s nose, making his mouth water.

He kisses the head; probes the slit with his tongue. Jason yelps at that, biting it back too late, causing a squeaky sort of sound at the end Tim almost wants to coo at.

He doesn’t. There are more important things to focus on.

Like lavishing his whole cock with little kitten licks. Jason is squirming now; not trying to get away, but the pleasure is clearly getting to him.

Gorgeous.

Tim sucks Jason into his mouth. The taste of him is thick; the girth of him heavy on his tongue. It’s good. Better is the way Jason shouts, body curling up automatically; chest heaving as he pants harsh and rough.

He collapses back into the bed; fingers tangling loosely in Tim’s hair. Tim would smile if his mouth wasn’t full.

He bobs his head a few times—and then swallows him down, nose buried in the thatch of hair at the base. Jason’s whimper sounds strangled. Tim pays him little mind, devoting his attention entirely to Jason’s cock

Tim uses his hands to cup and squeeze Jason’s balls, occasionally dipping behind to press and rub at his perineum. He can feel Jason’s muscles jumping; the way his legs twitch, his chest heaves, his fingers tugging at Tim’s hair. But he doesn’t buck into Tim’s mouth or try to guide his head.

He lets Tim set the pace.

Such a sweet boy.

Still—Tim can tell that, through the pleasure, he’s getting frustrated with himself. It’s in the tension in his belly, the way some of his noises sound more pained than others, the way sometimes he huffs when he should be sighing instead.

Poor darling. Tim eases Jason’s cock from his mouth. He suckles at the bundle of nerves under the head, then trails kisses down the shaft, over his balls. He cups them in his hand, lifting them to expose his [taint]. The high, reedy noise Jason makes when he kisses there is quickly cut off—and followed by a frustrated breath.

Tim kisses again, then turns to nuzzle his thigh before pulling back.

Jason whines. There’s no pleasure in the sound. It’s all panic and fear, and Tim rushes to cup his face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over his cheeks as he hushes him.

“Shh-hh, darling. I’m not upset,” he soothes. “You’re trying so hard for me, aren’t you?”

Jason blinks up at him. He looks so upset, his poor boy.

Tim nuzzles him. “Don’t worry, baby. I know it’s hard. Let me help you.”

Jason makes a soft, inquisitive noise.

Tim smiles slyly as he lets go of Jason’s face. “Open up.”

Jason’s brow furrows, but his jaw drops obediently. Tim cups his jaw with one hand; his thumb sliding over Jason’s tongue, pressing down, forcing his mouth open.

Jason’s eyes go wide with realization. He can’t flush any darker, but Tim can see the embarrassment anyway. The way he leans into Tim’s hand, though, is distinctly thankful.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Tim tells him. He can’t not. Jason’s too damn pretty with his face all red and his mouth hanging open, drool already starting to collect on his bottom lip and spill down his chin. Tim wants. Besides—he can’t hold his mouth open and rim him too, so that’s off the table for now.

He can do that later.

With Jason’s help, Tim gets his knees hooked over Tim’s shoulders. There’s already a pillow supporting his hips, making it easy for him to reach under him and grip the plug he’d worked into him earlier. He pumps it a few times, grinning at the way Jason moans, before pulling it out and tossing it to the side.

He reaches for the lube. It’s a bit of a trick, getting it open one handed. He can’t exactly pour it onto his hand, either, so he just drizzles it right on his dick, flinching a little at the cold. He smears some on Jason’s hole, too, though he’s still fairly slick from the plug.

Jason shivers when he does, the tight ring of muscle fluttering under his touch. He makes a breathy noise, soft and sweet, his breath hot on Tim’s thumb.

It’s strangely erotic, keeping his finger in Jason’s mouth as he lines his cock up, slowly pushing inside. Jason’s body gives to him beautifully, swallowing his cock eagerly. The head slips into his rim with a soft ‘pop’—Tim’s hand moving from his dick to the back of Jason’s thigh.

“Nn—look at you,” Tim breathes. “So eager to be full, aren’t you, baby? Fuck. You fit me so well, like you were built for me. My gorgeous little cocksleeve.”

The sound he makes is beautiful, high and needy, a moan tinged with a whine. His eyes are wide and pleading when he looks at Tim. “Pl’s,” he says, around Tim’s finger.

Tim taps his jaw. “Ah-ah, darling. We don’t speak with our mouths full.”

His hips stutter at the noise that gets him. Tim grips his thigh tight enough to bruise, fighting the urge to snap his pelvis forward and bury himself to the root.

Slow. He’s going to take this slow.

Speed can come later.

For now he watches Jason’s face; each minute twitch of muscle. His eyes get more and more hazy, eyelids drooping. He pants in between moans and sighs. Drool drips down his chin, onto his neck and chest. He’s so fucking pretty.

Tim wants to eat him.

Jason’s body is a furnace. His walls flutter and clench around Tim’s cock; drawing him deeper, deeper. It’s both forever and no time and all before Tim is fully seated in him; his balls slapping Jason’s ass.

Jason’s got his head thrown back, now, the column of his throat pretty and exposed. Tim can’t resist leaning down, scraping his teeth over his adam’s apple before finding the spot where neck meets shoulder and sinking his teeth in.

He doesn’t draw blood, but he sure as hell leaves a bruise, worrying it with lips and teeth until he’s sure it will be a nice, lurid shade of purple by morning.

Jason’s moans, no longer stifled, are high and sweet. They’re softer than Tim might have expected. He adores them. He can’t help but kiss over Jason’s cheeks—smiling indulgently at the way Jason tips his face up to receive them.

He steadies his grip on Jason’s thigh. Rolls his hips, just to test—delights when Jason mewls, clenching tight-tight-tight around him in response. A fresh pair of tears roll down his cheeks, dripping into the puddle of drool on his neck.

Tim presses a little firmer on his tongue—and then he fucks him.

Not fast and punishing, although he knows Jason takes that beautifully, but slow and deep; rolling his hips in a way he knows will leave him a little sore tomorrow. It’s worth it for the way Jason responds. His cries are so beautiful—and each and every one of them is for Tim. Because of Tim.

All the praise he’d held back before tumbles from him now. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect. S-sound so pretty. Wanna keep you like this all the time, split open on my fingers, my cock. Nn—” Tim’s hips stutter as Jason clenches around him. His breath catches, too. “A-and— shit. You’re so— You’re gorgeous. J-just— All I wanna do is w-worship you.”

Jason’s cock is twitching. Precome drips onto his belly; pearly liquid beading on his hair, shining on his skin.

“U-unh.” Tim lifts his leg a little higher; angling his hips to thrust deeper, the head of his cock bumping right up against Jason’s prostate. Jason mewls again. His body is shaking. Tim can feel his own legs starting to tremble.

“F-f— Jason,” he gasps. “Baby. You’re so good for me. T-take me so well.”

He squeezes Jason’s thigh before letting go, slipping his hand under where their bodies meet. He waits until he bottoms out—and then he presses two fingers against Jason’s perineum.

Jason shouts. His hips buck, cock spasming as come paints his chest and belly. His walls clamp around Tim’s cock like a vice. Tim switches to short, shallow thrusts, fucking Jason through his orgasm. His own is close at hand—there’s a part of him that wants to pull out, stroke himself until he adds to the mess painting Jason’s body, but. He won’t. He’ll leave his claim deep inside Jason, the way he’s earned.

Jason loosens after a moment, but his walls are still spasming, like they’re milking Tim’s cock. It leaves him breathless.

“Nn— Jay— So beautiful,” Tim praises. Jason’s expression is one of utter bliss. Tim keeps fucking him—faster, now, using Jason’s body to chase his own pleasure. Jason makes encouraging noises beneath him; gripping Tim’s ass, pulling him forward, deeper, kneading the muscle with his fingers.

With that kind of attention, it doesn’t take long for Tim to spill, body bowing forward, Jason’s name on his lips.

His hips move shallowly, fucking Jason through the aftershocks. Come trickles out, onto the sheets—it makes Jason shiver, whine. Tim rubs his side soothingly, easing his legs off his shoulders and pulling out slowly. More come spills. The sight of his hole clenching just about does Tim in.

He swallows hard. Slips his thumb from Jason’s mouth. Jason whines at that too. So needy. Tim loves it.

“Shh-hh. I’m not going far, babe,” he reassures. He doesn’t, either; barely has the energy to shift over a few inches so he can collapse beside him. Jason snuggles into him immediately. Tim kisses his forehead, wrapping his arms around him. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“L’ve y’ too,” Jason mumbles, nuzzling into him.

Tim knows they can’t stay like that long. The mess will start to dry soon, and stick, and— He knows neither of them have any interest in waking up like that.

But for now…

He closes his eyes and basks in the warmth of Jason beside him.

#jaytim #timjay #dcu #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut #been wanting to write a body worship fic for a bit so this was v much indulging in that xD

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samandcolbyownme · 1 year ago

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hiii! i don't know if my question went through lol because ive been having some problems with that lately. i was just wondering what your wills and won'ts are. will you write dark stuff (non con, dub con, stalker, kidnapping, etc)? pretty much what won't you write? ily and your work!

-🍉

I started to reply and then I totally forgot about it. But i finally got around to finishing it.

I’m going to add a read more label just because there’s going to be some triggering phrases that might not be comfortable for anyone who may stumble upon this.

I’ll come back and update this with anything else I think of, but as of right now this what I will and won’t write about.

I’m a pretty open person, so I don’t really think there isn’t much I wouldn’t be okay to write, but four things I am NOT comfortable writing about and will not write for are

Miscarriages, anything with children (you know what I mean), SA, and self harm.

The non con, I’ve thought about it, and come to figure out that I’m not okay writing non consensual stuff, even if it’s like a role play thing.

The dub con, yes, but it probably wouldn’t be anything drastic, I’d probably write it with a background of sexual tension, reader and other, are super drunk and wanting to do it, but don’t realize it until the next morning that they actually did do it.

As for kidnapping and stalking, after writing Obession, i think that’s the farthest I’d go - if you haven’t read Obsession, I suggest reading it, it’s ghostface inspired.

I’m also not at all comfortable writing the adult/child role play. That’s 100% a NO.

I also wanted to throw in that I am 11 years clean from self harm and that is why I will not write about that topic. I haven’t gotten any requests mentioning it, and I don’t think I would, but I just wanted to put it out there because I’ve seen some one shots [not in the SnC fandom] where people have requested that the person of their choice comforts reader struggling with self harm and scars, and although I see the gesture behind it, that’s just not something I would like to write for.

I’m sorry if that made absolutely no sense and/or was all over the place. I tried my best to explain how I feel about writing each specific topic. If there is any other topic I have missed from the anon and if you want my input on anything specific before you request, just send me an anon. I’ll answer and then I’ll update this post!

Just remember, there isn’t anything wrong with sending a request. If I don’t feel comfortable writing it, I’ll just let it sit in my inbox.

And I promise I am not judging because trust me..

We all have our things 😉

I love you guys! Thank you for reading! 🖤

P.s. no one in my life knows I have this blog, so you’re safe with me

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darkicedragon · 8 months ago

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Fanfic: Pace the Night [Brush Out]

Fandom: Noblesse Summary: Frankenstein finds a way to pass the time with M-21 during the full moon. Rating: PG-13 Genre: General Word count: 3,347 Total word count: 38,247 Status: Work in progress Other parts in the collection

Frankenstein paused as he headed to the kitchen one night, listening out. There. Quick footsteps on the floor above.

While Frankenstein had to get used to another person in his house, he would have expected M-21 to be quieter, considering the circumstances M-21 was used to.

Hm... Frankenstein headed for the stairs in case M-21 needed something.

The movement stopped as soon as he reached the stairs. "M-21?" he called out. "It's just me, Frankenstein."

No response.

Frankenstein frowned. That was also unlike M-21.

He saw movement as he got to the landing and - ah. Frankenstein stopped. That would explain the discrepancies.

There was a silver furred werewolf on the landing, long limbs barely covering scars across his entire body, and a small scar slashing down the right side of his snout.

"Hello, M-21," Frankenstein said, gauging his reaction. M-21 was smaller than Frankenstein would have expected, only slightly taller than when he wasn't transformed.

M-21 backed up with a snarl and it was a wonder he didn't crash though the balcony doors.

While M-21's fur had puffed up with his ears flat, the biggest tell for how M-21 was feeling was his tail tucked between his legs.

"Do you recognise me, M-21?" Frankenstein tried again, his voice soft and calm. Muzaka still recognised Frankenstein in the moments when he lost his senses, but it had been a long time since their first meeting and just because Muzaka was able to, that didn't mean M-21 could.

M-21 snarled again, lunging forward half a step before retreating.

Except.

M-21 wasn't looking at Frankenstein.

He was staring at Frankestein's lab coat.

Oh. Of course.

Frankenstein should have realised M-21 would have bad connotations burned into him regarding scientists lab coats, but Frankenstein had just left the lab and had forgotten he was still wearing it.

"You aren't in the Union," Frankenstein said, slipping the lab coat off.

He wasn't sure M-21 heard him, M-21's eyes focused on the coat as Frankenstein draped it over the banister.

As soon as Frankenstein let it go M-21 relaxed, looking back at him, his ears slightly higher.

"Now then," Frankenstein said, "shall we try that again, M-21?"

M-21 focused on him, ears pricked. He stayed where he was, but he didn't back away either.

"Do you remember who I am?"

M-21 studied him, but didn't respond.

Hm. Time to try something else. Frankenstein sat at the top of the stair, his back to M-21. He wasn't sure if it would work, if M-21 would be curious enough or be willing to approach, but he didn't know M-21 very well at the moment.

All he could do was wait and see.

"I suppose I could see if you were more interested if I brought you snacks," Frankenstein said to empty air, filling the silence, "but I'd rather not leave you alone. You seem to at least tolerate my presence right now and I'd rather not worry you any more than needed if I were to leave." Considering how...M-21 had first arrived into his house.

Frankenstein resisted turning his head around when he heard footsteps slowly approaching.

"Though would you like to come with me if I were to make you something to eat?" The transformation would be draining M-21, especially if this was his first time.

M-21 didn't answer, sniffing around Frankenstein's head. Frankenstein didn't move, letting M-21 investigate.

M-21 sat back with a whine.

...Yes, Frankenstein wouldn't be the one M-21 wanted to see.

He slowly lifted his hand, a growl snapping out of M-21's throat for a second. When Frankenstein didn't move, M-21 crept forward to sniff Frankenstein's hand.

And then pressed his snout into it. Frankenstein scratched there, like he was asked to, and M-21 huffed, relaxing into Frankenstein's touch.

M-21 wasn't as fine as he pretended to be, looking for someone who wouldn't return. Frankenstein didn't say that out loud, in case M-21 remembered in the morning and realised Frankenstein knew.

With each passing second, M-21 pressed harder and harder until he was leaning against Frankenstein's back, threatening to push Frankenstein or himself down the stairs if he slipped.

"Shall we pause this until we're in a less precarious position?" Frankenstein suggested.

"Hrr."

Frankenstein paused scratching M-21's snout to see what he would do.

M-21 pulled back with a whine.

One, two, and then a cold nose was sniffing at Frankestein's neck.

He chuckled, petting M-21's snout. "I was checking to see if you were listening. Let's go downstairs, hm?" He turned to look at M-21, who glanced away.

Frankenstein narrowed his eyes as he studied M-21, though he relaxed by the time M-21 looked back in case M-21 misinterpreted. Frankenstein wasn't angry at him, but now he had a closer look, he could see just how patchy M-21's fur was. There was far too much fur on the carpet to be normal shedding.

Well then. Frankenstein had another idea how to pass the time.

M-21 followed as Frankenstein walked downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a number of snacks that he'd seen M-21 having and then headed for the living room.

He set the snacks on the table, but as Frankenstein left them to go to his set of drawers, M-21 continued to follow him. Companionship more valued than food then.

When Frankenstein retrieved the brushes from a drawer, M-21 pulled back with a growl. Interesting.

"Do you recognise brushes-" Surprising as Frankenstein didn't envision Union scientists using them. "-or because they're something new?"

Frankenstein walked back to the table and sat down next to it, putting the brushes down next to him.

M-21's growl tapered off, though he stayed where he was.

Frankenstein started spreading the snacks out, listening for the distinctive click of claws.

M-21 did approach, giving the brushes a wide berth.

Given the speed M-21 recovered and that he didn't give the brushes a second look, Frankenstein surmised M-21's reaction must have been because the brushes were new.

M-21 snapped up the bit of snack Frankenstein tossed towards him, getting closer and closer. Once M-21 was settled, Frankenstein reached for a brush.

M-21 glanced at his other hand, but re-focused on the hand giving him food.

When Frankenstein picked up the brush, M-21 froze, staring at it. While his nose twitched when Frankenstein held the snack under his nose, he didn't look away.

"I'm not going to hurt you with it," Frankenstein said, holding everything in place.

M-21 looked at Frankenstein's face and Frankenstein smiled.

"Yes, it's me, Frankenstein."

M-21 took the snack, still staring at him.

Frankenstein continued the habituation of the brush, slowly raising it until M-21 was comfortable and Frankenstein touched it to M-21's shoulder.

M-21 flinched back and then whined.

"It's just a touch, see?" Frankenstein held his hand and the brush in the air. "I'll be brushing your fur if you let me. I'm told it feels like grooming, though I'm not sure if you know what that is or how it feels."

M-21 relaxed at his voice and leaned forward again.

It took a while longer for M-21 to allow a full swipe and even that was enough for the brush to come away fully laden with fur.

This was going to take a while.

Though they did have the whole night, if M-21 tolerated it.

* * * M-21 woke up slo- He froze. His pillow was wrong. Lower. Warmer. Breathing.

He wasn't in his room, naked with a blanket over him. Tiles under him.

Not the Union. It was too warm to be the Union and it didn't smell like a lab eith-

"Good morning, M-21."

Well, fuck. That was Frankenstein's voice, directly above him. That's whose thigh he was leaning on?

M-21 was surprised Frankenstein had left him there - Frankenstein was easily strong enough to push him off from...whatever the fuck had happened last night.

Shit.

M-21 remembered going to bed. Nothing else.

"I take it from your silence," Frankenstein said, "that you have no recollection of last night.

And he'd been so stunned he still hadn't moved. M-21 jerked up, the blanket pooling around his lap. "Sorry." They were in the living room, surrounded by ...M-21's hair? But he didn't have that much on his head and he ran his hand through his hair to double-check. It was still there, with no weird patches.

There was even a huge collected clump that looked the same size as M-21 next to Frankenstein.

"For not remembering? I wouldn't have expected you to."

That made M-21 pause. "You wouldn't have expected me to?" Did Frankenstein know what happened?

He heard Frankenstein stand up and stretch. How long had he been sleeping on Frankenstein's lap? "Would you rather get some clothes first and then we can-"

"No." What difference did wearing fucking clothes make? "What's happening to me?"

"Very well." A creak of the sofa. "Here then."

M-21 stood up, taking the blanket with him. He didn't have body shyness, but he wasn't going to put his bare ass on Frankenstein's sofa. There were empty plates all over the table too.

"Is this the first time you've lost a night?"

He'd lost fucking everything, but that wasn't what Frankenstein was talking about.

Frankenstein specified a night? When M-21 glanced at the window, he could see the sky lightening up, the sun starting to rise in the distance. "...Yeah." M-24 had never mentioned this before. How much had his body started breaking down? Did he need pills again?

"I see." Frankenstein paused for only a second. "It would appear your heart is affecting you more than I assumed it would."

M-21's stomach dropped and he stared at Frankenstein. He hadn't even considered the possibility his werewolf heart would change him.

"You fully transformed last night and you became instinctual."

Shit. "So you had to restrain me the entire night." That made sense. Frankenstein was strong enough to do that and that would explain why there was fur everywhere. His fur. His werewolf fur.

"Hm? Does it feel like I did that?"

Did it...? M-21 rubbed his wrists. To be honest, he felt the most rested in all the time he could remember. The only thing holding him down when he'd woken up was the blanket. He picked at it, his skin normal and unbruised as far as he could tell. "No," he admitted. "Then what the fuck did happen?"

"I realised you were shedding and I spent the night brushing it out while you leaned against my leg."

M-21 waited for Frankenstein to continue. He didn't. "That's it?"

Frankenstein smiled. "Yes."

...That was another explanation for why fur was everywhere. He just let Frankenstein do that? ...Of course he had.

"Okay." Because what the fuck else was he meant to say? He looked around the room, seeing his fur starting to clump up as they moved around. "I should-"

"Rest," Frankenstein completed for him. "You have been transformed for the entire night - what you need right now is to regain all your energy. I can clean this up in the meantime."

M-21 exhaled, relaxing. "I - thanks. I'll-" Words failed him as he stumbled to his feet, dragging the blanket behind him.

He reached his room and took in his bedsheets in disarray, his torn clothes all over the floor.

He had no recollection of any of this. Nothing.

It was like someone else had tried to ransack his room.

M-21 made his way to his bed, feeling as though... As though he'd spent the entire night transformed, with barely enough energy to drag his feet forward and breathe.

He flopped onto his bed and was immediately asleep.

* * * "Is this going to happen often?" M-21 asked the next night to Frankenstein in the kitchen, because that was how long it took for him to fucking wake up again.

This time he'd missed an entire day because of his fucking heart.

"The-" M-21's face twisted as he tried to say the words, that he had to acknowledge that this was real. "-transformation."

Was it eventually going to happen every night and he still wouldn't remember anything? Would the werewolf instincts eventually take over and he would never come back?

The fact Frankenstein didn't say anything straight away, continuing to cook and not fully looking at M-21, was answer enough.

"I can't give you a definite answer," Frankenstein said with a slowness to his words that said he was picking every word carefully, placing his spatula down, "as you are a unique case. How your heart interacts with the rest of your DNA is...hm, to be seen."

Which meant his heart hadn't finished changing him.

Fucking great.

* * * The results of Frankenstein's most recent research had gone well and he left the lab, taking in a deep breath - as he heard something moving upstairs.

A second passed and Frankenstein heard the distinctive footfalls of something trying to move on all fours, but not smoothly like a quadruped.

...Ah. Frankenstein made a note on his phone as he walked up the stairs. "M-21?"

Another full moon. Pure blooded werewolves weren't affected by the lunar cycle, but if M-21 was then he was possibly like a mutant changed by a noble's contractee, taking on different characteristics than where their power originated from.

A silver furry face appeared at the banister as Frankenstein ascended, making him smile. It would appear that M-21 trusted him more and was more comfortable in the house compared to last month.

M-21 even approached him before Frankenstein reached the landing, ears pricked and tail wagging softly at the tip.

"Do you recognise me now, hm?" Frankenstein said.

M-21 stepped forward, sniffing around Frankenstein's face. While M-21 looked at Frankenstein's hand when he raised it, M-21 didn't flinch back when Frankenstein ran his hand through M-21's fur.

It was bushier now with less obvious bald patches.

Frankenstein's hand still came away covered in fur and Frankenstein tutted. M-21's fur had changed, so the winter coat should have already gone. "I'm not sure how long you will stay in this state, but it looks like we'll continue brushing your fur tonight."

M-21 followed him, tail wagging harder now.

Did M-21 enjoy being brushed?

* * * Tao slowed his typing, turning his head towards his door. That sounded like...

Well, he wasn't sure since he'd been focused on work, but it was something out of place for the noises he'd gotten to in the house.

The house. It still sounded weird. The house. Not the safe house. Not shelter. Not camp.

The house.

Maybe even 'his' house. He and Takeo would have to see if they really could stay here, but M-21 seemed to trust Frankenstein and that said a lot.

Anyway. Distractions aside, there was a potential intruder in the house and maybe he should set up cameras later if this really did become 'his' house.

Tao got up, still listening out for any more noises.

Footsteps down the stairs and... huh. It was two feet, but they were heavy and didn't sound right in a way Tao couldn't place.

He peeked out his door and...

Oh.

Yeah. That'd explain it.

Tao could see a furry back of someone going down the stairs. Not furry in a bear hairy - but kinda except in a werewolfy actual fur kind of way, topped off with triangular ears and a fluffy tail to boot.

M-21's door was ajar and Tao checked, knowing what he'd find.

A neatly made bed that hadn't been slept on, clothes folded neatly on M-21's desk.

Ooor maybe not.

But that could be why definitely-transformed M-21 had walked down the stairs instead of howling at the moon or being destructive. M-21 was pretty quiet anyway so maybe that was why his werewolf state was the same.

Tao followed after M-21, hearing the living room door click open.

"Oh?" Tao heard Frankenstein's voice from inside. "You brought your own brushes and want to try them? Let's see them."

That was an entirely different tone Frankenstein was using compared to when he was fighting Dr Aris. It was close to how he sounded when M-21 asked for Tao and Takeo to be allowed to stay in the house though.

Should he go before he was found out? This was just between M-21 and Frankenstein. Just sneak back to-

"You can come in, Tao," Frankenstein said in a louder voice and Tao cringed.

Eek. Caught.

"Ehehe, hey Boss," Tao said, poking his head into the living room. Weirdness 1: Frankenstein sitting cross-legged on the floor. Weirdness 2: werewolf M-21 with his recogniseable scar if the silver fur wasn't evidence enough curled up against Frankenstein's thigh. Weirdness 3: a thick brush in Frankenstein's hand as he brushed out M-21's fur.

Then again, Tao didn't know what was normal in this house, so maybe he was the weird one. Takeo said so enough times. And Frankenstein and M-21 seemed to be acting like this was normal.

M-21 sighed at another pass of the brush, pressing up against it.

"Awww," Tao couldn't help but say, stepping in to get a better look, "you look so cute!" M-21 would kill him for saying it, and he'd left his phone upstairs too!

"I'm sure he would feel mortified if he knew you said that," Frankenstein said dryly, turning the brush over to pull out a handful of loose fur. Where had all that fur come from? It had looked empty when Frankenstein started.

Oh. Wait. Tao ran through Frankenstein's words again. "He doesn't remember what happens on these nights?" Was it a full moon? He'd have to check.

Frankenstein shook his head. "I trust you won't take advantage of this? The fact he hasn't negatively reacted to your presence says quite a lot."

"Yeah, I won't." Tao joked around but this was different, and the passing comments M-21 made about his abilities was starting to make a bit more sense.

M-21 lifted his head and then turned around. A paw hit a brush, making it spin out towards Tao. M-21 looked up at Tao.

"You don't have a werewolf translator, do you?" M-21's gaze was like he was trying to telepathically tell Tao his thoughts but Tao certainly wasn't receiving anything.

Frankenstein chuckled. "He wants you to brush him as well."

He did have a translator! "Really?" Tao picked up the brush near his feet and walked over.

"His undercoat was shedding when he first came here," Frankenstein said as Tao started brushing. M-21's fur was stiffer than it looked, the fur thick. "Most of it is gone now so he doesn't need as much brushing, but I think he enjoys it."

Tao's brush was full of soft fur when he pulled it free and he added that to Frankenstein's already growing pile. "How much fur was there if this is 'mostly gone'?"

"Enough that the pile in the morning was the same size as M-21."

Tao's eyes widened and he whistled, looking between M-21 and the pile. Frankenstein did that every time?

"Well, you've got an extra set of hands to help now, Boss!" Tao said, brushing again.

* * * M-21 didn't wake up alone, someone's arms splayed across his waist.

His heart lurched for a second, but it was the wrong shape for M-24, too bony. The wrong smell.

It wasn't Frankenstein because he'd never woken up to Frankenstein in his own bed and this was definitely his own bed.

He opened one eye a crack and saw black hair.

Tao.

Last night was the full moon; he should have expected Tao to find out immediately.

Tao made a grumbling sound, his arm tightening to a hug. "Morn'."

And he should have expected that Tao wouldn't care what he was or what he was becoming. To Tao, this was how M-21 had always been.

"Morning," M-21 said, closing his eyes again.

M-21 didn't know if he would lose more of his humanity, but the full moons hadn't gotten worse since he'd started transforming during them, and he wasn't dealing with them alone.

#noblesse #fanfic #m21 #frankenstein #tao

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pico-digital-studios · 10 months ago

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Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Many Alike

After a rather heated battle between Bently Forceloyed and Benjamin in the expansive dreamscape shared by Boyfriends, Benjamin backed up, worried for Bently.

Benjamin: I get you're upset, but hurting me isn't going to resolve your problems!

Bently: You're just saying that to break me, aren't you? You're saying that just like EVERY illusion that pathetic curse threw at me to crush my hopes!

Benjamin: H-Hey. I'm the REAL Benjamin. Not an illusion, not some tactical hope-crusher. Would I really be trying to help you if I was fake?

Bently: I... I guess not, huh.

Benjamin: You... must've been through a lot in your world, huh? If you need to, please explain what went on. I'll understand and I'll offer my support.

Bently: A-Alright, then. I'll explain it for you...

Bently's storyline started during More than One Universe.

Bently: If you're really my old self, you remember the whole push to cure all those interdimensional evils, right?

Benjamin: I do, yeah.

Bently:

Alright, so, that attempt to possess you from that horrible Puhoi curse? Well, I got off worse. I was forced to watch everybody I loved and cared for die, and I was isolated alone in my mind with no salvation. I was given a second chance, yes, but I was forced to leave my universe and integrate into a completely new one, and a new name; Bently Forceloyed.

I wasn't alone there, though. On my way in, I met a sweet young kid named Livie, who was like a little brother to me, and I also met my new girlfriend, Isabella Fondsmith. I had a good life ahead of me, but it didn't change the fact that I was still stuck with that god-forsaken curse.

In my dreams... well, more like nightmares, given their nature... I met Audrey, who was stuck there as many more before him, and he eventually broke out into my apartment, still horribly scarred from it all. No matter what he said to me about the curse, I just could NOT see it as any "gift", and just didn't want to heed that call of heroism again.

I ended up getting school to meet new friends, got a rival out of Koda, who's quite akin to Pico, and me and Livie, who's really willing to help others just out of the goodness of his heart, had to look after Audrey consistently because of that curse. It got to the point that I got Audrey to the house of a younger friend named Otto for residence.

I f-feel that was my worst mistake ever, even after the time I stopped a war from breaking out... Audrey was really down when I saw him again after two months, and... and I felt like I had just d-dumped him! I have r-reconciled with him since, but... I feel a-ashamed to call myself a f-friend towards him, even if he doesn't look d-down on me for my actions...

Benjamin: H-Hey, Bently, you're NOT useless.

Bently: (tearing up) Y-Yes I am! I've been stuck in shame for s-so long that I CAN'T see any l-light at the end of the tunnel, OR t-take that first step to peace! (feeling down) T-Those illusions were right, w-weren't they...? I'm just weak, p-pathetic, unable to truly h-help a close one, a-and a walking piece of m-misery... (looking up glumly) I c-can't choose between living my l-life as I want to o-or needing a friend t-to rely on me for w-who knows how long...

Benjamin, concerned, walked up to Bently.

Benjamin: Bently, listen. I know how horribly you've having it at the moment, and I can still relate. The harsh truth is... a friend can't rely on you forever, though I'm sure Audrey understands. You've done the best you could for him, and I'm sure he couldn't ask for anything more from you.

Benjamin: Besides, you're a better person than you think you are, Bently, hero or not. Whatever aspirations you want in life, you CAN achieve it. You just have to take that first step to finding it, and you've got your friends there to support you through it.

Bently teared up, hugging his original counterpart tight while quietly sobbing.

Bently: I-I'm so sorry...

Benjamin: Hey. I got you, don't worry.

They parted their hug as Grace and Isabella arrived next to the two.

Bently: Wait, Isabella? Is that really you here?

Isabella: Of course it's me, Bently. After what happened before, I got worried.

Benjamin: Yeah, I forgot to mention; this dreamscape's shared by any Boyfriend's crush or supporting companion, too!

Grace: What happened?

Benjamin: Well, Bently here's been going through a lot in his universe, and he's been in self-loathing from it.

Isabella: Hey, Ben?

Bently: Yeah?

Isabella: I know you've been going through a lot in those three months, but hero or not, you've still got a happy life to live, especially after you and Audrey reconciled. Besides, no matter what, you'll always have friends like me around to help you!

Grace: She's right, Bently. You've got so much ahead of you, so don't waste the opportunities you have.

Bently: Thanks... all of you. Heh, I feel a lot better after all of that. I'm sorry about the misunderstanding there, Benjamin.

Benjamin: Nah, it's all good! I'm kinda used to it.

Grace: So, what's your new home like, Bently?

Bently: Honestly, it's just amazing. I can show you these pictures of me, Isabella and our companions while we talk about it. I won't do it too long, though. I am gonna have to wake up shortly.

Benjamin: That's alright. It's been great meeting you, Bently. And besides, maybe one day we could meet in person!

Isabella: Hehe, that'd be wonderful!

And with that, they got to talking about Bently's new home in Dimension URB-2023, showing these pictures along the way:

Bently himself (the swap-in for BF)...

Isabella (based around GF, to idolising Bently's singing voice and becoming his girlfriend)...

Livie Vernal (based on Skid, being a cheerful child who's always there for Bently)...

Koda Terrafirm (based on Pico, a government agent trainee who's Bently's friendly rival in their universe)...

Otto Maypole (based on Pump, loves spring and is Livie's best kid friend)...

...and Bently's school teacher, Aiobhe Goodwin.

(All pics made with Picrew)

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sth au #sonic au #spider man #friday night funkin #new identity new life

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alienorstyx · 1 year ago

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A Night in Paris

Precedent chapters: 4, 5

Chapter 6: Morning

The soft rays of the sun caressed the skin of France, which turned in her sheets. Her body didn't have clothes to hide her nudity, she was still sticky due to the activities of the past evening . At her side, her lover slept deeply, he had one of his hands touching the thigh of France. She slowly opened her grey eyes, which were slightly blinded by the sun's rays. France groaned as she got up but she fell back because of the USSR who captured her to take her in his arms. She sighed as he put his head against her neck, covering her neck with kisses. France smiled, and turned to kiss the lips of the USSR . While they were kissing, the USSR began to caress the body of France again, appreciating each of the curves of its body . Looking at his lover's neck he noticed a very thin scar of circular shape. USSR began to cover it with kisses, France noticing that he had seen her scar, decided it was time to stop their little game . With a little smile, she decided to leave her bed completely naked and went to her bathroom.

The morning passed quietly, USSR had left the young woman before lunch time. He had to meet important people in a French gourmet restaurant. After he left the apartment. A furtive shadow passed down the stairs and rang at the doorbell. France already knew who it was and she went to open the door to him with all the nonchalance she had.

United Kingdom was standing there, still wearing his clothes from the day before, he seemed to have regained some colors and his voice was more settled.

"My dear France, we must immediately discuss what is happening."

Without a word, France let him into her apartment, the two countries settled in the dining room. France set the table while the United Kingdom, told her the latest news.

"Last night, I wanted to warn you that Third Reich was missing. And that America wanted everyone who was her ally to give him the latest information, if we had any , of course."

"Very well, I will gladly tell him the bare minimum of what I know."

"You know where he is, don't you? " Said the UK, drinking a glass of water. France did not answer immediately as she went to her refrigerator to find something to compose their meal. She returned with her arms loaded with different boxes, which she gently placed on the table. United Kingdom could see that she had bite marks on her fine neck , she still wore her very fine ribbon of white cloth .

"He did not let you rest , last night . "Remarked United Kingdom by opening one of the boxes that contained pieces of smoked chicken.

"No, but that's help me to forget what happened during the war. I think he's pretty good in bed."

"I wonder, how long will you stay with him before you get tired?" Asked United Kingdom , serving France who was busy opening the other boxes filled with vegetables.

"I don't know. You seem to miss me already? "Replied with a smile, France.

"Well, of course I miss you. Already, during the war, I thought I would never see you alive again.You're gonna have to explain to me one day how you got to be in two different places at the same time."

"A woman has her little secrets. Moreover, I never reveal all my cards. You must be one of the few countries still in this world, who knows many of my great secrets."

"In the rare moments when you have been willing to confide in me."

"What do you want, I've always been like that, I'm not going to change now."

'All I see is that, as always, you arouse temptation and desire in other countries. And many have bitten their fingers at wanting to possess you entirely. I am surprised that America is not tempted to have you."

"Why? He looks at me as if I was the last slut or favorite in vogue."

The United Kingdom had to refrain from laughing when he heard the words of France and the disgusted pout she had when she imagined America making love to her.

"Besides, you know very well that I always consider him as a capricious child."

"Yes, yes, I know. But France, you still hate him for what happened to...."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear any more about it. The past is now over. And it will never be returned to me or come back to me. I looked for her in the other world for a long time and never found her. All I have left of her is her portrait when she was a young girl and some of her stuff from her childhood.

The rest of the meal was in silence. United Kingdom, did not recount the telephone conversation he had with America. He left her at about one o'clock in the afternoon.

France did her dishes, then went to her sofa with a bottle of wine, which she sobbed before falling asleep, alone.

#A Night in Paris #countryhumans #countryhumansfrance #countryhumansussr #countryhumans united kingdom

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algrimthestrong · 8 months ago

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Though the man seemed to be fine with accepting Aednan's gold, it was quite obvious that he did not share his excitement. Acting as a guide to the elven prince seemed to be a chore to him rather than a privilege. It was fine, Aednan told himself. They had the whole day ahead of them and he was confident that by the end of it his reluctant companion would come around to realising how mistaken he had been in his initial impression of him. There was nothing about him to dislike, after all. To all appearances, the florist had been scarred by a previous experience with Aednan's kin and it had marred his entire perception of them – which was not very nice. After all, not every elf was of the same disposition, just as not every human held the same values and beliefs. This man was the best example for it, treating Aednan is if he were a nuisance when his compatriots had only given him the warmest welcome. If gold was what it took to persuade the man into giving him a chance, Aednan would gladly make the investment.

As he listened to the man explain where he grew his flowers and then went on to add that inviting Aednan into his home was not an option the elf felt his earlier frustration return, if only briefly. "Fine, fine," he agreed, reminding himself to be content with having managed to secure the man's company for the day. It was spending time together that mattered the most, getting to know each other, and once he had won him over the rest would develop naturally. At least the florist was serious about giving him a private tour and Aednan watched him close up his stall for the day with a satisfied smile – only to find himself subjected to yet another brush-off as the man strode past him, rudely ignoring the hand Aednan had offered him. "You know that I am not poisonous, yes? You can touch me just fine," the prince pouted, quickly falling into step beside his guide as he began leading the way across the marketplace.

The fact that the man was willing to share his name with Aednan was a small success at least. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mal of Roseweald." Aednan flashed the smaller man a charming smile, preening under his appraising gaze. "I am Prince Aednan of Alfheim. You may call me Aednan." While it was true that Mal's hometown paled in comparison to the splendour of the elven realm, the place had a quaint sort of beauty that Aednan looked forward to exploring. "Well, what does Roseweald have to offer?" he queried. "What do you like to do when you are not working or tending to your plants? Are there any interesting shops or historic buildings around?" He let his gaze flick up and down his companion's form, taking in his outfit that was as beautifully curated as the flowers he sold. "You're dressed quite well and I like your jewellery. I think I'd like you to take me to your favourite clothes shop, then we can have lunch together, and afterwards I'd like to see where you go for amusement and relaxation. Is there a tavern or a brothel—" Aednan drew a quick breath before continuing, "—you like to frequent, or do you prefer to spend your time in nature? Are there any pretty lookout spots over the area, any ancient trees in whose shade we could doze, any lovely lakes we could take a swim in?"

Pure gold, from a prince of Alfheim. Though it sounded far too good to be true, by the look on his face he already seemed sure that Mal wasn’t going to refuse, and truth be told the florist knew that he couldn’t. It was a rare thing indeed to find a wealthy man so willing to part with his coin, and though he knew it was simply to prove a point about his charm and generosity to humankind Mal wasn’t the sort to squander such an opportunity — even if it meant that he had to deal with spoiled elven royalty nipping at his heels for the day.

Already infuriated by the way the elf beamed at him, Mal exhaled a sigh and grabbed the velvet pouch before he could change his mind, stuffing it into a leather satchel slung over his shoulder. “I don’t grow all of them. One of the local farms has a greenhouse and some flowerbeds, and the rest are from my garden.” He explained begrudgingly, closing up the stand and briefly scrawling a note on his chalkboard about being closed for the day, supposing the other stall holders would keep a close eye and make sure nobody ran off with his wares. Straightening up and wiping the chalk dust from his hands, he shot the prince a look. “But before you get your hopes up, I am not showing you where I live.”

Glancing at the hand that was offered and then promptly ignoring it, Mal breezed past and began to lead the way — though where he wasn’t entirely certain. He wasn’t sure what elven royalty would even be interested in, shocked that he cared about a town as small as theirs at all when he imagined it paled in comparison to where the elf hailed from. “It’s called Roseweald.” The florist explained, already dreading the remainder of the day if he was going to be fending off question after question. “And you can call me Mal.” It occurred to him briefly that he didn’t actually know the name of his new…companion, but he supposed he had been forthcoming enough when it came to his identity thus far. “What do I call you, your highness?” He queried, looking him up and down and belatedly realising that he couldn’t quite let it slip that he wasn’t human when he seemed to be trying to stay incognito. “It’s hardly a grand tour, it’s not like — you know where. What do you even want to see?”

#beautifulmischief #beautiful-mischief #:side muse aednan:#poor Mal lmao

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder. Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse. It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback. Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room. Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly. "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them. But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to. Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley. "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability. My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please. Treat it like a normal arm. And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different. Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly. “However much you think I can handle, double it. I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that. You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh." That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene? “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight. Red means stop. Yellow means proceed with caution. Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact. I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely. And then there’s ‘blue.’ That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far. “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright? I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded. “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed. “I’m not charging you for this part. We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed. “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it. “And what is it that you’re looking forward to? What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you. “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes. Strongest you have. I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time? He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles? Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question. “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit. “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try. Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed. “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that. He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard. And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward. “How do you feel about ‘pet’?”

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again. “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile. He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like? Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment. “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred. “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually. Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore. He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting. Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm. It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right? It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently. It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to. More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel? Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath. You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling. You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly. He shook his head. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him. Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut. When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura. “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could. He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly. “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away. “Baby, please—”

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine. “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around… my cock. Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft. His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that. Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you. "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant. He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock.

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you. "How does it feel, baby?"

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr. He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing. "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure. You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing. Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot. The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch. And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more. How could you say no?

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be. Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer. His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit. He winced as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, it feels good. Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled. "I just wanna come with your cock inside me. I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy? Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls. Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself. He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod. "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?"

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle. Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment. "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince. "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly. He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open. For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for. You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you. "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back? That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy. He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded. "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting. He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock. The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur. “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after. You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes. But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss. He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest. “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect. It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken. Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers. Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise. As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits. You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted. “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick. And my brain is all fuzzy…”

You smiled. “Can’t help the first one. Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly. “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move. He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle. "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience. You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience. I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace. "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question. "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him. "It looks pretty luscious. I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face. His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something. How long had he been single? With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards. He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him. And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax? Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this. And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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ghost-like-pale · 3 years ago

Text

a flinch is enough

info: the past never forgets, and techno never forgives. 》 they/them 》 in canon + platonic 》 1.4k words

warnings: sexual assault, explicit descriptions of murder/blood, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: this was a request from my beautiful 🌹 anon, thank you for sending this in. i made the implications of sexual assault a a little more subtle but i still hope you like it.

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the moonlit sky was a beautiful dark blue as you stared at the light. you had been doing housework the entire day due to your counterpart being too busy with whatever he was brewing upstairs. the piglin hybrid usually helped you when he was home, it's his house after all. but today was different, you supposed.

you were so caught up in the moon's doings that you didn't notice the tall figure creeping down the stairs and right behind you. he assumed you were aware of him and went to tap on your shoulder.

as soon as he does you whip your head around, backing away from him as you hold one arm in front of your face and the other in front of your lower body. the shaking of your body became more prominent as time went on.

"(y/n)?"

you couldn't look at him. you weren't strong enough.

"(y/n), please. look at me."

you lowered your arms hesitantly and looked him in the eyes still filled with fear.

"(y/n), i'm not going to hurt you. i promise."

you averted your gaze and drop both your arms. tears leaked out of your eyes and cupped your face with your hands, all the memories coming back and hitting you like a truck.

"i'm so sorry, techno."

you dropped to the floor, your knees buckling under you and techno barely being able to catch you. you felt a heavy, warm cape drape over your figure while a worried piglin grunt escaped techno's throat. he got on one knee and rested one of his hands on your shoulder.

"don't apologize."

two simple words managed to tug at your heartstrings so harshly you couldn't hold it in anymore. you sobbed loudly into your hands, completely losing any posture you tried to maintain. techno was startled, thinking he did something wrong. he quickly snapped out of it, however, and pulled your body by the shoulders into his chest. his firm grasp made you feel secure, stifling your cries a little.

"...are you alright?"

you knew he had no idea how to handle it from here, but you appreciated the concern and kindness he showed. you pulled back from his embrace and wiped your eyes gingerly.

"i'm.. a little better."

"good."

the voices wanted to know who did this - who made you this way. who the fuck hurt you? he tried to keep them quiet, but he wanted them dead as much as his mind.

"can you tell me what happened?"

everything was silent for a few seconds. the voices were quiet, nothing came out of techno's mouth. you sighed and shakily started explaining yourself. techno listened silently, trying to catch every detail and description of the man who scarred you. he had a basic image of him in his mind by the time you were done.

"thank you for telling me."

techno glanced outside the window, the soft glow of the moon telling him it's late. how long had he been brewing? he shuffled a bit and eventually stuck an arm under your legs and upper body. with a small yelp you were lifted a few feet in the air, the cape that you were siting under fell off your back and onto the floor in the proces.

"you need some rest."

you didn't bother trying to stop him. your mind was foggy and your body felt heavy.

"thank you, techno."

"shh, there's no need to thank me."

in comfortable silence you were carried up the stairs and into techno's room. you were confused, you had your own room after all. you didn't mind, though. he placed you on the mattress he slept on rarely. his bed was bigger, the blanket was heavier, the pillow was softer, everything felt better. you wrapped yourself in the plush blanket and felt your eyelids getting heavier already.

"sleep well, (y/n)."

just as he was about to stand up you grabbed a hold of his wrist. he looked at you quizzically, knitting his eyebrows together.

"where are you going?"

"don't worry, i won't be away for long. now sleep."

"fine. good night, techno."

"good night."

—

looking through his bag once more technoblade checked if he forgot to grab anything; he had food, arrows, ender pearls, potions and a small knife. on his hips hung his axe, crossbow and sword, yearning to be used. his bag was full and everything he needed was in his possession. before he opened the door techno noticed the red velvet fabric resting on the ground. with a few paces he arrived in the kitchen and picked up the cape. he swung it over his shoulders and adjusted it carefully. with a loud exhale he stepped out of his house and into the cold weather of the tundra. he whisteled a command and one of the wolves in the pack jumped out of the enclosure it sat in and rushed over to techno's side. he was going to find them.

you've shown him your previous residence multiple times, which is where he was going to look first. it was his best guess. while making his way over to your former abode the wolf that traveled with him was scouting out ahead, hoping it would find it faster than techno.

techno's eyes shoot in the animal's direction when it starts barking aggressively at a moving figure across the woods. the voices screamed at him to assist his pet, to shoot him, kill him immediately, to which he happily obliged. he sped over to his companion, hoping to catch a better glimpse of the person.

"stop him, now!"

techno ordered the animal. after a few seconds he heard a loud thud followed by a yell belonging to a man in immense pain. he made his way over to the barking wolf, it having a slightly stained mouth from its jaws going through the man's flesh and muscles. he found them.

"what's the rush?"

he towered over the other male pathetically writhing on the floor. his calf had a nasty teeth mark, bleeding profusely and covered in dirt and saliva.

"p-please... don't... hurt me!"

"why shouldn't i?"

technoblade hated these kind of men; not even willing to fight or run. just begging and whimpering for mercy. it made him sick. the wolf that followed him all the way here was still barking, ready to tear the man to shreds.

he takes his netherite axe off his hip and hoists it over his shoulder. techno looks the other man right in the eyes, fully aware it fills him with fear. he wanted to feel everything you were put through. he was going to feel your pain.

"i...i've never done anything to you..!"

technoblade froze at the sentence. nothing? he thinks he's done nothing? he's not completely wrong; he's never physically hurt him - he's never even met him before. his train of thought was interrupted by the voices yelling in his head. they were screaming at him to cut him, to strangle him, to burn him, anything. he needed to feel pain.

"does the name (y/n) mean anything to you?"

the horror on the man's face got worse by the second, him figuring out why techno is here. the piglin drops to one knee and gets about an inch away from his victim's face.

"am i going to get an answer?"

"y-yes! we were friends a few years ago."

techno let his axe fall off his shoulder and into the dirt, the blade only falling a few inches away from the other male's injured leg.

"do friends traumatize each other?"

the question filled the victim with dread, his monotone voice only adding to the fear.

"y-you don't know what we did!"

the sudden surge in confidence surprised techno, to be sure. there was nothing more pathetic than a man yelling at the brink of death in such a tone. he scoffed with an amused expression and retracted his axe back into the holder that rested on his hip.

"yeah! they were lying to you, i promise. that's the reason i stopped being friends in the first- GAH!"

his sentence was cut of by a dagger being plunged into his stomach and dragged up to his ribs, cutting open his body. he mewled and moaned in agonizing pain, unable to form any coherent words.

"you disgust me."

technoblade stood up, his ears twitching and voices pleased. the blood on his hand dripped on the dried leaves as he called the wolf he brought with him. as the animal sped over to technoblades' side the screams of the impaled man were completely gone. looking over his shoulder he sees the lifeless body of the man who has haunted you for a long time.

he'll never hurt you again.

——♤——

thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

masterlist

taglist;

@esylwen

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sparkbeast20 · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Love your writings! Reaction from both brothers and side characters of Female Gangster MC. Like they just found out

ANS: So, this My first request I ever made. I hope I did you justice with this Anon and also Thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you like my writing <3

If want to send request feel free to send them :3

Warning: Mention of Guns, Blood, Killing, Violence, Taking the fall for someone, and PTSD.

The Brothers and Dateables + (Luke platonic) finding out that F!MC use to be a Gangster

Lucifer

“MC, what’s this” Lucifer points at a scar on her chest, what looks like a stab wound.

“It nothing Lucifer, its just…. It just a remainder not to disobey orders….” She trails off, starting to tear up “it my fault, I got to reckless and almost someone I care about killed” she places a hand on the scar try to keep it together and not show weakness Infront of the Avatar of Pride.

Lucifer slowly took off one of his gloves, and walk closer to MC, and place his hand over hers

“Scars are nothing to be ashamed off, you did it to protect someone you care and….” He places his hand on her chin and lean her head back to met his black and red glance. “Your safe here, you don’t have to worry to go back to that life anymore”

You just the tears fall as your face soft and embrace him, feeling safe knowing that you don’t have hide you past to him.

Mammon

“This all your Mammon!” she angerly whisper in his ear, and groan at her pestering.

“ShHH! Quiet, they’ll hear us human-” then you smack him slightly on the back of his head.

“Whoops, you called me human again”

“Hey! Do you really need to- WAIT there’s a car over there” him point out, and quickly book it to the park vehicle and see that it isn’t lock, however?

“Crap! The key isn’t here” he tries to look around, but quickly push to the passenger, and MC sat the driver sit and open up under the steering wheel.

“Why do I have to do everything around here!” she grabs and cut two wires and start hot wire. In second the car starts up and she buckle her seat belt. “Mams, you guys can survive a car to the face?”

“Yeah…. Why- wait!?! What are you-”

“Buckle yourself in!” She quickly steps on the gas, the demons been chasing them heard the engine, but quickly get hit by the car. As the human and avatar of greed make their escape.

“WHAOOO! I have fun thrill in months” as MC enjoy the adrenaline, Mammon looks over to the human that he was suppose to protect, in amaze and fear. He makes a mental note that Lucifer isn’t the only he shouldn’t just provoke.

Leviathan

“This is impossible!” Levi is struggling with a level from a game from the human world that he just bought, while MC behind him, trying to hold her laughter.

Is a mock version of gang game and Levi, is at the level of the game where to rival gangs are fighting each other for territory?

“You’re focusing on the grunts and not the ones who are hiding from afar- look” she grabs the control from Levi and start playing the level like it was nothing, as she explained how and why he keep dying, all the while Levi is both shock with how MC can play and concern about the implication of how she gotten the knowledge.

“There, now you just have to escape, I never good with car chase, only driving really fast- Huh…. Levi was wrong?”

Levi snap from his train of thought and grab the controller from her, and finishing the level.

“MC, were you-”

“Yeah, but left that behind me.”

Satan

MC and Satan are watch Mammon and Levi being strung up by Lucifer from afar.

“I’m surprise, that you’re not phase about this” Satan asks looking over to her, watching why she not reacting on the display of punishment Infront of her.

“EH… I’ve seen worst”

“Really? What worst then this”

“Being killed-”

“What!?! That’s not punishment!”

“You didn’t let me finish, watching someone being killed Infront of you is worst. It’s a way to learn to obey your boss and survive in world”

She looks on to the demons being strung, while Satan is still letting the information sink in, who know that the human was brought to hell, has already lived in one.

Asmodeus

“I’ve been meaning to asks darling, where did you get your scars?” Asmo asks MC as he and her are taking a bath together.

“Which one?”

“Well…. All of them”

“Ah…. All of them are from fights that I got to”

“Why would you go and get in to fights, you’re to precious” Asmo cooed them move closer and grab her hand, and start scrubbing her arm. She laughs as she is tickled by his action.

“You know, for a bunch of demons. your all nicer than other humans back home” pauses for a moment, by continue with a giggle.

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. As long I’m here no one will ever lay a finger on you again” and that’s a promise he made to you and himself.

Beelzebub

“I’m glad you like it Beel” MC made Beel a homemade dish from the human world to calm the hungry demon.

“Its so good, I like your cooking”

“Nah…. You would like Sal’s cooking, he’s the one who taught me how to cook this”

“Maybe, if we go to the human world, you might think he’ll cook for me and my brothers”

“Yeah totally! He loves my friends…...but he can’t”

“Why? Did he leave or something?”

“His at prison, he took the blame for me. And said you should get out of this life….. I guess cooking isn’t the only thing I learn from him” she laughs to hide the fact she misses her mentor.

Beel quickly engulfs her in bear hug, and rub her back.

“Is okay, maybe we can visit him someday”

She sighs and let the tears fall as she return the hug.

“I-I’ll like that, thank Beel”

Belphegor

“You’re still up” MC asks Belphie who is standing at the doorway at her room.

“Sorry, I was waiting for you”

“Really why?”

“You been having nightmare with some men with guns, I figure to help you” she let out sharp gasp and turn away from Belphie.

“I’m sorry to keep you up-”

“No! I already cause so much pain; I want to help you to keep those nightmares away. Like I promise.”

She looks back with her eyes widen and clenching his pact mark on her wrist. She hastily grabs his hand with her head hang low.

“P-please…. Make the nightmares go away….”

“Anything for you, I’ll keep the nightmares and the bad men away”

Diavolo

“You like what you see” Diavolo spoke behind MC startling her, Diavolo was shock to her reaction almost bumping into crown in display.

“Oh, I-I wasn’t planning to steal this I swear-”

“Calm down, I trust you. Sorry for startling you.”

“You trust me, even with my background” she mutters, and look directly at Diavolo’s eyes to see if his lying or not.

“I didn’t look in to your past, only your connection with Lilith. I believe in Demons, Angel, and Humans can have second chances. If you’re a good person now, as long you learn from your past. I don’t see to bring up old scars”

“Thank you, My lord”

“Please, Call me Diavolo”

“I don’t think Lucifer will like that”

Barbatos

MC is inside Barbatos room, helping him clean, to the surprise of the demon butler seeing that he didn’t help in clean. But he can’t refuse the human.

But then she stops and look at the door she uses in going back in time in the time of the “Incident”

“Barbatos, can you see any path where I stayed in the human world and never came here in the first places”

“I’m afraid, I am forbidden to use my powers like that, why may I ask what makes you think of that?”

“I think, I got the luckiest path. And I’m thankfully for this. I think I’ll be in the side of the road-”

Suddenly Barbatos places a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look at the demon.

“Its better not to think of what could’ve happen and focus on your presents self”

Simeon

“Simeon, am I bad person?” She asks while Simeon is writing a draft of his story.

“No, why do you ask?”

“You’re the closes person to being pure and good, is it good for me to threaten people even though I was just following orders”

Simeon stop writing and put the quill down, and look over to MC.

“Did they threat you?”

“Yes”

“Did you, like doing things like that to other?”

“No!” she quickly sat up to that question.

“Are you willing to do that again?”

“Never!”

“Then you’re a good person.”

Solomon

Solomon and MC are at purgatory hall practicing spells for class, when MC spill the potion on to herself, then she starts taking off her shirt, leaving Solomon blushing and turning his back to give her some privacy.

“MC!?! Warner me next time, before you start striping.”

“Sorry, force of habit”

“What you always spill potion on yourself all the time, back home” she looks with bows rise up.

“Oh… No, every time I get back home from a job, I’m usually covered in blood and I don’t want to leave any evidence behind”

“W-what exactly, are those “Jobs” of yours?”

“I you know shady things, if you can keep secrets about yourself. Then I have secrets of my own” she smiled teasing him.

But to him, its no tease.

Luke

“Luke, little advise from me. Don’t be like Mammon or Me” MC and Luke watches Mammon, Levi and Solomon playing poker in class waiting the bell to ring.

“I know Mammon shouldn’t be followed, but you’re a good person I don’t see why you rope yourself with him.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m just nice to people I care about. I don’t care for others outside my gan- never mind”

“Wha-” then the bell rings, and Mammon rushes and grab MC by arm and dragging her out the classroom.

Leaving Luke confuse and worried.

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ninjastormhawkkat · 1 month ago

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“Gah! Stupid sensitive rodent eyes!” Dr. Two Brains swore as he tried to clear his vision by rubbing his eyes and blinking rapidly. He didn’t see Atomic Steele, Fern Trap, and Hydro chase after Polaroid while Electric Blur stayed behind to make sure the mad scientist and the kids were okay. “Are you okay Dr. Two Brains?” Electric Blur inquired. Two Brains nodded vigorously. Scoops and Rose quickly approached the heroine. “Please save our friends.” Rose pleaded. “Yeah. I have known them for so long. Plus Violet is my girlfriend. I don’t want anything bad happening to either of them.” Scoops exclaimed with tears in his eyes. Blur looked up at the other two kids. While neither blonde expressed any vocal words, the heroine could tell by their expressions that they were both equally worried and frightened by the situation as well. Electric Blur gave them a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. My team and I have dealt with Polaroid many times before. We have always been able to save the citizens he traps. I promise I will bring your friends back safely.” She replied in a calm tone. Just as Electric Blur was about to fly off and join her teammates, she felt a hand on her shoulder halting her. Blur turned and saw the mad scientist staring at her. His eyes and face no longer held any fury, but rather pain and fear. “Please…save my little pinky.” Dr. Two Brains spoke in a quiet tone. Blur looked taken aback by the mad scientist’s words and expression but then schooled her features in a determined look. “I will.” Two Brains let the heroine go and Blur flew off to join her colleagues. Electric Blur focused on the mission and ignored the panged feeling in her heart. She couldn’t help but feel jealous of Becky. Her father was a villain but he was willing to do anything to save and protect his daughter. He genuinely cared about her. “I guess a villain cares about his child more than a person proclaiming to be the good guy.” Blur muttered albeit bitterly. Sally looked satisfied with her clean office. It was perfectly organized and tidy. “There, all ready for the new lawyer to arrive.” Sally Botsford exclaimed in a proud tone. Her smile then turned into a frown as she thought of something. “Hmm. I wonder if I should have laid out some snacks and beverages?” Sally commented aloud. A knock on the door to her office soon snapped her out of her musings. “Coming.” Sally called out. She then opened the door and saw a woman standing on the other side. She looked to be of African descent with dark brown hair and piercing golden eyes. The woman had a few facial scars under her eye and lips, but barely noticeable unless you fixated on it. The woman wore a deep red pantsuit. She had sharp, black glasses and her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun. This woman screamed professionalism down to the bone. “Oh hello, may I help you?” Sally asked the women. “Hello Mrs. Botsford, my name is Talia Bloodrose. I am expected.” The woman replied in a calm and cool tone as she extended her hand. Sally let out an elated gasp and shook the woman’s hand. “Oh yes. Mrs. Bloodrose. We have been expecting you. It’s nice to meet another pursuer of justice.” Talia nodded. “Yes I am glad to meet a fellow lawyer as well.” Sally smiled. “So where are you from again? I’m sorry the name escapes me.” Talia shook her head. “No need to apologize Mrs. Botsford. I am from Newport City. I came here a few days ago and finally got adjusted to my new dwellings. I decided to come by and greet the people I am going to work with before I started my position.” The lawyer explained. “Wonderful. Let me show you around and where you will be working. I’m sure the people of Fair City will benefit from your work.” Mrs. Botsford exclaimed. She turned her head and began to give Talia a tour. Sally didn’t notice the malevolent smirk that featured on the woman’s lips. “I am sure that the people here will be affected by what I do.” The woman replied in an unnoticeable, ominous tone. @melodythebunny

“Help Me! Somebody Save me!” Becky dropped the book she was reading with a thud as her face became a mix of extreme alarm and worry. Normally Becky would have a cool head whenever she heard a cry for help. She would simply transform into Wordgirl and Bob would transform into Captain Huggy Face. She would then take her sidekick and fly towards the person in danger. This was not like other times. She knew the voice of the person crying for help. It was her dad’s voice. The infamous Dr. Two Brains. Becky had her dad get frightened before, especially when cats were around. Her dad did not sound like he had an encounter with a cat. To the young girl, it sounded like her dad had an encounter with a much more frightening being. Bob spoke in his usual monkey chatter, asking the young girl what was wrong. Becky turned to her sidekick. “Dad’s in big trouble. He really needs our help Bob.” Becky exclaimed in an alarmed and urgent tone. Bob’s eyes widened in shock. He then gave the young girl a determined nod, telling her he was ready to help save her dad. Bob leaped onto her shoulder as Becky touched the center of her sweater, ready to transform. “Word Up!” She exclaimed as now Wordgirl and Captain Huggy Face headed off to where Dr. Two Brains was crying for help. Wordgirl landed at the grocery store and gasped at the sight before her. There was a lot more destruction around here than was normal for her dad when he was committing a crime. A mix of goop and cheese splatters decorated the walls and aisles of the grocery store. A few unfortunate citizens appeared to have been caught trapped by either the goop or cheese splatters. “Dr. Two Brains! Where are you?” Wordgirl called out, hoping her dad would answer. She soon heard two voices shouting near the back of the store. One, she recognized as her dad, the other was unfamiliar to her. “WOULD YOU QUIT SHOOTING AT ME! I’M A JESTER! NOT A CLOWN!” The unfamiliar voice shouted. “IT’S THE SAME THING AND NO!” Her dad shouted back. Wordgirl sped towards the shouting and saw a sight that confused her more than frightened her. On one side, Dr. Two Brains was hiding behind a row of shelves, clutching onto a cheese ray and a goop ray. He looked to be fighting for his life. On the other end was a man that neither Wordgirl nor Huggy had seen before. The figure was wearing a jester’s outfit that was similar to what a jester at a Renaissance festival would wear. The guy seemed to be as frightened as her dad was. He was also clearly trying to avoid getting shot at. ‘What the heck is going on here?’ Wordgirl thought to herself. She looked at her sidekick who simply gave a shrug. He was just confused as she was. Wordgirl cleared her throat to get their attention. “Excuse me. Can someone please explain to me what is going on here?” Wordgirl politely asked. Both men looked surprised and relieved to see Wordgirl had shown up, but for different reasons. “Oh thank goodness, a superhero. Please, you have to save me from this maniac!” The jester figure pleaded. “Excuse me! I am the one who needs help here!” Dr. Two Brains exclaimed in an angry and offended tone. He then turned to Wordgirl. “Wordgirl you got to get rid of this nightmarish clown. Take him to a jail far away from here.” The mad scientist pleaded. This time the jester figure looked offended. “I am a jester! Not a clown!” He shouted back.

"Same thing!" Two brains scoffed

"uhh... actually-" a passerby spoke up, it was the guy who usually couldn't find the police station. "there is a difference..."

"did he steal something....? Or ...?" The jester man shook his head. "No! I was simply standing here!" "Yeah standing there Menacingly!" Two brains says.

Wordgirl sighed. She understood his phobia of clowns the similar like. However she couldn't really do much since this was a public space. "Dr. Two brains..i can't just arrest a person for existing..."

"man...barely ten minutes here and I'm already being Obstrized!"

"are you trying say ostracized?" Wordgirl says. "Though that means to exclude (someone) from a society or group. Or in this case being in this store."

"ohhh...yes! Exactly that! I just want to shop! And this absolute fiend, is trying to cause a ruckus to get me kicked out!" He pointed accusingly at the mouse scientist.

@ninjastormhawkkat

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mercurygray · 3 years ago

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Any chance you might be willing to write a confrontation scene between Canute and Ælfgifu after he returns to England? I think we're all dying to know exactly he would have handled that situation... ;)

At the docks they told him there was trouble waiting for him.

Canute looked at his fleet, battle-scarred and bloody, and wondered if the man was joking.

But there was no joke about the two women in the great hall, Emma on her throne, staring down a blonde woman in green.

Ah, Canute thought to himself, pausing near the door. Yes, that is trouble.