#he should have swallowed a tracker | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Rolling in the Deep

Prequel to Make You Feel My Love

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, blood, miscarriage. Warnings may not be exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

Summary: You try to get out.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: Please leave any thoughts or comments or reblogs or anything you like!

You take the suitcase out of the closet. Already packed, waiting, ready to go at just the right time. That moment has come. Bucky’s gone. A mission out of the country.

It’s not just the bag. You have a plan. You’ll leave your phone there. When you get downtown, you’ll find a public bathroom to do a sweep of your clothing for any other trackers. You have cross-country tickets. You don’t need a passport for those, it will be harder for him to find you.

You’ll disembark at a midway point and do something about your hair. A change that obscures your trail. From there, you’ll take a bus and buy a train ticket at the first major city. You just need to lose yourself in the shuffle of life outside your tiny world.

You check the pouch strapped around your stomach. Cash. Enough to get you far away. You’ll figure it out from there. You lift the bag and near the door. You hold your breath. The house is ominously silent. The only witness to your flight.

You look out into the hall. You take a breath and carry the compact luggage cautiously along, steps softened by the long runner rug. Your hand goes to your stomach. It’ll be okay. You’re almost there. You just need to get outside.

As you near the top of the staircase, a shadow appears in the doorway closest to you. You take a step back, stunned by the unexpected figure. No. No. It can’t be. You know you can’t lie, he can hear your heartbeat.

“Steve,” you gasp and drop the bag.

You stand in a deadlock, you caught and him knowing. You swallow and repeat his name again. He tuts and puts his hand on the door frame.

“Why?” He utters. You should ask the same. Bucky’s little lap dog, his left hand, another enabler.

“You know why…” you say crisply.

He rolls his eyes and steps into the hall. You flinch as he grabs your arm. You wriggle and try to rip yourself away. You know it’s futile but your pride makes you fight.

“You’re going to let him hurt me. Again,” you sneer as he marches you backward.

He doesn’t respond as he nearly bowls you over. He gives a small shove so you stumble back into the bedroom. You catch your balance and stare at him. You knew before you tried it wouldn’t work. You don’t even know why you put so much effort in.

“You ask for it,” Steve grabs the door and snaps it shut.

You rush forward and hit the wood. You holler through it as you bring your fist against it, over and over, “Steve. You’re not like him. You can let me go. You can save me. Aren’t you supposed to save people… Captain?”

His footfalls pause not far from the other side. A sigh puffs loudly and he clears his throat. He continues on, the stairs groaning beneath his descent. You back up and cradle your stomach, the bump hidden by the loose fabric. I’m sorry, you look down at your shirt, I wanted better for you.

💔

Dread. That emotion has coloured much of your relationship with Bucky.

At first, that dread that this man with the dreamy blue eyes and chiseled jaw wouldn’t like you.

Dread again when you sat on the cusp of your wedding day, stressing about everything that could go wrong.

And when it all went wrong and it was the fear of his temper, of his fist. Of how you might unwittingly bring out the worst of him. That part of himself you didn’t see until the last day of your honeymoon.

Now you wallow in it. You sit against the door, waiting. This is it. You know this doesn’t end well for you. You knew that when you packed the suitcase.

The dread twists in your chest, threatening to choke you as you hear movement below. The front door and the exchange of low voices. Silence, and then the unmistakable, discernible trad of his step. You know it anywhere, you’ve learned to listen for it, to recognise it.

You will not face this on your knees. You stand and face the door. You try to shake out your fear but that you cannot escape as much as you could not get away from this man. You take a deep breath as his slow progress creaks down the hallway, his weight shifting down the floorboards.

You stare at the handle as it turns, the lock sliding back. No one would ever know it but if they did, they would indeed think it rather odd that the lock is on the outside. They might even guess why.

You’re speechless and Bucky looks much the same. You see the anger pulsing in his forehead as his glare scalds you. As it all boils under the surface ready to bubble over. He is just deciding how he’ll let it come out. His lip twitches and his hand balls to a fist. Words or force, it doesn’t matter.

“Why can’t you just let me go?” You whisper.

His blue eyes flare and he takes a step forward. You retreat on your heels and he stops short. He sways as a shadow of hurt washes over his features.

“Why don’t you love me?” He grits.

You shake your head and cross your arms, “that’s the problems, Bucky, I do love you.”

He sighs, a deep exhale akin to a growl. His gaze falls and wanders over to the dresser. You wince as he stomps towards it and rips open the top drawer. It’s empty. He slams it and you cower as he faces you again.

“It’s true,” he sneers, “you were going to leave.”

You hang your head. Does he not see that you have no other option? That he has left you with no other choice. It is your life or no life at all. Whether you stayed or not, it would end like that.

“You–” he snarls and you cry out as he seizes the back of your neck.

He moves fast, faster than you can. You untangle your arms and reach back to claw at his forearm. He marches you down the hall as your feet bounce off the floor clumsily. You whine as his fingers curl into the tendons of your neck.

“Bucky, please, you’re hurting me–”

“You hurt me!” He hollers as he urges you to the top of the stairs.

“I… I never wanted to–”

“That’s all you’ve ever done,” he barks into your hair, sending hot breaths across your scalp. “You want to leave me? After all I did for you? After I loved you?”

“Bucky, I was scared–”

“Of what? I’ve protected you!”

“You!” Your squeeze his wrist as his metal fingers threaten to crush down to your spine, “I am terrified of you–”

“So you want to leave? You don’t want to talk?” He hisses as he pushes his head next to yours.

You look down the stairs as he hovers you on the top step. Your toes hang over the edge. You keep one hand on his forearm, the other clinging to the post beside you.

“I tried–”

“You want to go,” he snaps, swallowing loudly, “then… go.”

The last words are a gravelly whisper. He shoves you, throwing you off the step as you fall without obstacle. Your arms flail as he lets you go, as you try to catch yourself on anything. There is only air and then the harsh devastating crack of the first stair.

Your knees hit first and you shield your head against your uncontrollable plummet. Your chest hits next and you go ass over head, twisting around to bounce on your side, rolling and bumping over each step. Your foot flies out, hitting the banister as you hit the bottom and catches between the columns, the wood wrench your leg in the socket.

You stop, one leg bent unnaturally up as your foot stays hooked in the railing. Your breaths rattle as you lay strewn and broken. Agony coils around every part of you, burning most hotly at the base of your spine.

Bucky descends, a step at a time, each echoing ominously over you as you gulp and gasp for air. He looms over you and clicks his tongue as he bends to look you in the face.

“You fell, baby,” he shakes his head, “it’s a goddamn tragedy.”

You feel a churning in your pelvis, a hot pain in your stomach that makes you want to puke. You groan, vision speckling as you struggle just to lift a single finger. You close your eyes and shudder.

“Bucky…” you rest your hand over your stomach, “...the baby.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #prequel #drabble #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

386 notes · View notes

musicfeedsmysoul12 · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe dc×dp Jazz×Jason magical ceremony bullshit for soulmate friday?

"Hear-ye-hear-ye!" A glowing green man dressed in what looked like the stereotype for any comedic relief in midevial films called out as he floated above the city of Gotham, his voice projected around the world. "Her Royal Highness, Queen Regent of the Infinite Realm Throne has decided to cast the Ritual of Bindings, to draw her soulmate near in order to give DNA to help the Deaged King who has been injured and needs to be Reborn! Queen Regent Jasmine Nightengale will cast the spell in Three Scores! All those touched by Death may be called!"

Predictiably people freaked, running around screaming. Or talking about it, which was what the Justice League did right after, speaking at the table.

"Look, it's legit," John Constantine said to the others. "I've met Danny, the King, before he became deaged, and he's a good sort so is his sister. If she's calling upon the ritual... well, I honestly think she has no other choice."

"So she's going to force whoever-" Bruce said but John glared at him.

"No she ain't. Rather she'll give them a choice. It would be safer for her spouse to be her soulmate but she could find any random man to sleep with to get the DNA." he told Bruce who nodded grumpily. It appeared all they could do was wait.

After three hours, Bruce got an alert. Jason's tracker went offline. He didn't think of the Queen then, rather became worried about other things.

He should have thought of the Queen.

-0-

Jason found himself in a throne room, and reacted appropriately. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at a guy in armour. "Where the fuck am I?" he demanded.

"You are in the throne room of the Infinite Realms." a feminine voice said from behind. He turned to see a redhead behind him, dressed in a black dress. "I am Queen Regent Jasmine, and you are my soulmate."

"...Oh shit," Jason said, remembering the proclamation. He looked at the woman who looked back nervously. "This is for... the King?"

"My brother Danny is the High King. He was injured by an enemy of his, Plasimus. Vlad, our enemy, was obsessed with our mother. He wanted her but she hated him. Eventually he discovered Danny was transgender, as well as learning that Danny is like himself, what the citizens of the Infinite Realms call a halfa. Half human, half ecto being as they are called." Jasmine said in a tone that became choked as she spoke. "He attempted to claim Danny. I don't know how, he became confusing with calling my brother a son or a consort. I don't know which he meant and I don't want to know." Jasmine swallowed. "He attacked and our parents passed in the attack while Danny became injured. He needs to be Reborn, and I can provide half the DNA. I need another half."

"So... you want this a one off?" Jason asked. "Why not go out and pick up a random?"

"I don't want a one-off. I want a partnership. I want to raise my... my child with a partner. I also want him safe, and calling upon my soulmate will help." Jasmine said. Jason stared at her, wondering what to do.

He had never thought of marriage, or kids. Frankly with his life he didn't think it a reasonable thought. But here was a Queen asking him. His soulmate even.

(The part of him who loved the classics, who snuck smut novels and who had opinions on romance flicks was cooing inside of him, begging for this chance.)

Jason always did like kids...

"Alright so... what do we do?" he asked Jasmine who smiled beautifully. He wanted to put that smile on her more.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdcp #dp x dc #soulmate friday #anger management #i welcome asks about these to lol

180 notes · View notes

victimeyez · 2 months ago

Text

Collared

The Professionals Masterlist - an In The Woods Somewhere x Professional//Victim crossover AU

Fletcher's home provides more freedom than Tommy is used to, but with new freedoms comes new temptations to disobey.

Tommy’s relationship with his collar changed from day to day now. He was overjoyed when Fletcher finally removed his old collar. The clink of the lock against metal haunted him, and sometimes he still swore he could hear it.

Fletcher replaced it with a new collar, a simple leather piece. They gave it to him in a white box, sat atop crinkly tissue paper. They pulled it out, showed it to Tommy, and then beckoned for him to take it.

“Do you lock this one in the front?” Tommy asked, staring at it in his hands.

“No lock.”

Tommy should have felt happy. Instead, he just felt an uncomfortable drop in his stomach.

“You’re not locking it? At all?” Tommy asked, trying not to sound too petulant.

“No... But I think you’ll find it in your best interest to keep it on.” Fletcher's voice was cool, but Tommy heard the implied threat.

He rubbed the leather between two fingers. It was very sturdy, but also soft.

“Put it on.”

Tommy looked up at Fletcher in surprise. Put it on himself? And unlocked? It felt very strange. A funny part of him felt that Fletcher was doing this all wrong.

Fletcher folded their arms and waited.

“Are we going to have a problem here?”

Fletcher’s voice was calm and dangerous. Tommy swallowed uncomfortably.

They want you to voluntarily submit to their control.

He already felt naked without his other collar. He slipped it around his neck and fastened it, a little clumsily.

“Good choice,” Fletcher told him.

It wasn’t long before he needed to shower. He felt uncomfortable showering here, where he could not lock the door against the trainees staying at the lodge, but he needed to get clean. Tommy undressed and looked at himself in the mirror, inspecting some healing cuts and bruises he’d been marked with. He started the water before he realized he was wearing the leather collar now, and it probably was not waterproof like his last one. He sighed and stopped the water, redressing so he could venture out to find Fletcher.

It took a few minutes, since the lodge was big, and Tommy did not dare call for them. He checked the usual places, but Fletcher was nowhere to be found. Tommy finally settled on asking the students mingling in the kitchen.

He stood by the counter nervously, fumbling with his hands. It was still embarrassing for him to interact with them, and he avoided it as much as possible. Fletcher had not explained anything to them, they just saw that Tommy did whatever Fletcher asked. Fletcher was not hesitant to punish him in front of them either, so they were well aware of their dynamic. Even if they hadn’t, he was bound by the bulky tracker around his ankle, and the collar around his throat.

He’d tried to cover it with a bandana once. As soon as Fletcher saw it, they gave him a dangerous look.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Tommy immediately backpedaled, pulling it off quickly and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Fletcher said sternly, but Tommy caught the little smirk that graced their lips as they turned away. He did not try to cover it again.

The students’ conversation paused for a moment as they looked to him.

“Hello, um, has anyone seen where Fletcher is?” Tommy hated how his voice sounded so meek, but any normal social skills he’d had before were long gone. Both students looked to each other, each waiting to see if either spoke up.

“No idea. Do you need to go outside? Maybe get taken for a walk?” Caldera spoke up, her voice filled with faux-sympathy. She wore a mean little grin. Tommy was less than enthused about living with a revolving group of sadists and apaths throughout the year.

“I think I saw them headed to the basement a little while ago, you could check there,” Barlowe suggested helpfully. Tommy swallowed. He wasn’t allowed in the basement alone. He’d have to wait until Fletcher reemerged to get his collar removed.

“Okay, thank you,” he murmured, and shuffled back to the bathroom to remove his change of clothes. He had hoped to get in before someone else used up all the hot water, but he might still get lucky, depending.

He waited around for a while, settling in to watch some television with another trainee. It felt too bold to sit on the couch beside them, so he sat on the ground with his back against the couch. They were watching some show about fairytale characters in a live-action world, but he had a hard time keeping up with it.

Finally Fletcher reappeared, and Tommy saw them passing through the nearby hallway. He hurried to catch up, scared to lose them again.

“Fletcher, hey, um - “

Fletcher stepped into their room, but turned to look at Tommy as they started pulling various odds and ends from their pockets onto their bed. Tommy hovered by the door.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?”

Fletcher rolled their eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you do not have to ask permission for this stuff, just do it.”

“No, yeah, I understand, I just wanted to see if you could remove my collar first?”

Fletcher sat on the edge of their bed.

“Get my boots off.”

Tommy obliged. It felt weird to be in Fletcher’s room, but he wasn’t about to argue. He kneeled to untie Fletcher’s boots, and loosened the laces so he could slide them off without pulling too hard. Once he was done, he tilted his head up to expose his neck. Fletcher shook their head.

“No, it’s not locked. I need you to make the right choices to take it off only when you have to, and I expect you to put it back on right away. Do you understand?”

Tommy tugged a few strands of his hair anxiously. “Yeah, I - if you’re sure, then yes, I’ll do that, I guess.” It felt like a trap, but he didn’t want to disagree.

“Okay then. Go clean yourself up.” Fletcher pointed out the door, and out Tommy went.

Once he was back in the bathroom, he fidgeted with the collar. Caius had always been very clear that he wasn’t even supposed to touch it, much less remove it. If he didn’t, though, Fletcher would probably just lock it on again, right? Tommy sighed and fingered the strap to it, hesitantly undoing the buckle and taking it off.

His neck was scarred from the barbed hooks that had secured his old one in place. He was grateful the new collar covered those marks, at least. He ran his fingers over the thick callus-like swells of scar tissue, trying to minimize them by pushing down on them with the pads of his fingers, but it never went anywhere.

Showering without the collar felt foreign. He’d long gotten used to soaping his hands and pushing fingers up underneath the band, cleaning as best as he could around it. Now nothing was in the way, and he felt the trickle of water on his throat in a way that felt new and a bit ticklish. It was very relaxing.

He shut off the water before he’d dawdled for too long, and drying himself with the towel felt foreign as well when he rubbed his neck. He redressed, toweling off his hair as well as he could, and was about to leave when he saw his collar lying on the counter still.

He felt a bit naked without it, having been attached to his body for so long. A part of him wanted to eschew it, destroy it, a silent protest.

You are being tested. Don’t fail - Fletcher is just hoping you will.

He sighed and wrapped it around his neck, opened the buckle and adjusted the placement to fit snugly, but without discomfort. Caius had threatened to weld a collar onto him before, and Tommy didn’t need to be threatened by his new master as well. He still felt a familiar pang of shame sometimes when he saw it, but what could he do? Resisting would result in the same outcome, only worse.

Caius was still right about that.

Tommy buckled it in place, turning it to sit straight on his neck. He’d be better off considering any ideas of freedom from it as moot. Truly, he wasn’t even sure how he would feel if he didn’t have to wear it. He just knew he had to show Fletcher that he would cooperate - for better or for worse.

It was an unseasonably warm day to be working outside.

It was a wet heat, and working in it had Tommy dripping with sweat. He wiped his forehead for the millionth time and stretched his back out, achy from being hunched over the plants for so long. Fletcher was inside where it was cool, entrenched in a lesson. They would call Tommy if they needed him, but so far he’d been left to his chores.

He tugged on his collar, trying to get a little air on his skin. It was too hot to be wearing leather, and his face was flushed and overheated.

It suddenly occurred to him that he could take it off. Fletcher was inside, maybe a hundred feet away, and probably wouldn't notice if he removed his collar for a bit. Even if they did, he’d hear them coming and have a chance to reattach the collar.

The idea tempted him. It would be so nice just to get a little break from it, and he could just throw it back on later, right? He started to feel for the buckle with his hands, circling the collar twice before he found it.

He hesitated on it, fiddling with the metal along his thumb nervously. What if Fletcher did spot him? What if he forgot to put it back on? What if he dropped or lost his collar while he moved around the yard? So far, he’d shown Fletcher that he was willing - but Fletcher had kind of put it up to his discretion, right?

Tommy started to pull at the strap and then hesitated. He sighed, and flicked it back into place. Who was he kidding? It couldn’t be worth the potential fallout if Fletcher didn’t approve. Would he be punished? Worse, would he be put back in his old collar?

He wiped the sweat from his brow and threw back half his water bottle before picking up his tools again. It wasn’t worth it. Once again, he would just have to endure.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @aqua-blogging @utopian819 @whumpinggoodtime @pretty-face-breaker @inpainandsuffering

#captive whumpee #the professionals #professional//victim #in the woods somewhere #collared whumpee #scars

46 notes · View notes

edutainer2022 · 7 months ago

Text

@janetm74, I did a little thing for this prompt:

"I'll come quietly. Just don't hurt them."

***

Scott didn't know about coding and cybersecurity nowhere nearly as much as John or Brains did (or Alan, for that matter), but he knew enough to understand John didn't know about these files. The folder miraculously slipped past Eos, John approved and Kayo vetted firewalls, and materialized on the desktop in his private study. He used it far less frequently than Dad's desk or even Dad's old office, but sometimes insomnia struck when his batteries were running low and going down to get some work done was too much effort.

That meant he couldn't really know how long the folder had been there, which made his insides run cold. What made his hands numb, to boot, were the latest photos in the unnamed folder - pictures of his brothers on the latest rescue. Up close and from a distance. The pictures were not scrambled by their tech. Another batch were from Alan’s recent school trip to Melbourne. From Virgil and Gordon's night on the town. Maybe most unnerving of all - from INSIDE Five and a training hangar on Gran Roca.

Scott swallowed hard, though his throat went instantly dry, and clicked on the last file - a candid photo of himself in the Tracy Tower penthouse, tying a tie, smiling at a hologram off screen, likely talking to a brother before a day of meetings. The file was uncharacteristically heavy so, just as he suspected, there was a hidden attachment, riding on it. Several more files popped up. Realistically, he should have gotten Kayo and John on the case by then, middle of the night or not, but Scott was frozen in place by the sheer magnitude of morbid implications.

One of the files featured four DNA sequences, neatly labeled Virgil through Allie. Nothing more, nothing less. Scott's vision swam. The threat was as conspicuous as it was cruel - spanning anything from customized targeted neurotoxins or viruses, nanobots masked in a bloodstream, carrying explosives to heart or brain, to a smart bullet, programmed to follow the target DNA like a bloodhound.

Their family had access to almost unlimited research resources and brainpower to counter even something that sophisticated, but Scott wouldn't ever take a chance the assault on his brothers wouldn't have an instant lethal effect. Since his own DNA was not on the list of targets, Scott had a pretty good idea what could be in the next file. It wasn't a sum - of course it wouldn't be that easy. When was it ever! It wasn't even a list of Tracy Industries or IR tech they wanted specs for. It was an instruction he needed to follow on his way. The destination he'd receive upon confirmation of being... cooperative. Whoever they were - wanted him to show up in person.

The next file was a cloaked, heavily encrypted chatbot where Scott typed in his response. Kayo would have his head for going through with it, heavily backed up by John and Penelope, but he couldn't risk his... everything. The only life he would willingly ever give up was his own. He typed in a quick message.

The response, likely pregenerated and tracable, biped almost immediately. No sarcastic niceties or eery foreboding of the consequences of Scott sharing any details of this arrangement with anyone, least of all his family or the GDF. Just a geotag. Scott had to catch himself from slumping sideways on the edge of the desk, as his vision went black for a moment.

The next thing he did after getting his breathing under control and passably certain not to keel over in the middle of his bedroom, was a beeline to his walk-in closet, the palm print activated safe in the far nook of it. His fingers hovered briefly over the cold shape of the gun he kept there, but moved on. Weapons, comms and trackers would be the first things stripped off of him, before he'd be moved to a different location, no doubt. He reached for a secure, strictly offline tablet, stashed in the safe. It held his will - updated frequently to include the ever expanding assets and charities he personally oversaw, in his line of work and lifestyle he left little to chance. He wouldn't have his family go through the same legal hoops Dad's unforeseen demise put himself through. Joint guardianship documents for Alan and Gordon. Gordie was turning 20 in several months, but Allie was still firmly a minor in any jurisdiction, and Grandma wasn't getting any younger since they had to do it the first time around. The consensus, Scott knew nobody wanted to think about ever since the first draft of his will after IR went operational again, was to name Virgil as Alan’s next-in-line guardian. Virgil, his trusted SIC and deputy biggest brother - Allie would be taken care of. They all would. Scott could see deep brown eyes darken with pain and betrayal in the shadows of the closet - Scott trusted Virgil with his life and with absolutely everything important in his life, but not with THIS. He couldn't.

The tablet also hosted security codes and off the books protocols for IR operations and the island. That was for John. Some of them Casey, Lord Hugh and Kyrano read him into, no other family members present, after the search for Dad had been called off. Some were on an encrypted thumb drive kept in an indefinitely rented deposit box in the bowels of a Swiss bank, with instructions from Dad to transfer to him exclusively or to destroy. The instructions were clearly devised to be put in action decades later than they were and it hurt like hell to touch that thought. Some of the directives not even John knew about by now. That was about to change, soon. If Scott knew his ginger brother, he could be sure at least Virgil or the Tinies would never know.

His whole being ached to make one last round of the villa and check up on his loved ones - he harbored no illusions of ever seeing them again. But he couldn't risk missing the window of John's sleep cycle and not slipping out at least somewhat undetected. Eos and Kayo's sensors would flag him leaving the island in a private jet, not One, but he knew enough to not raise alarm and cover his tracks with a bogus errand in Warsaw at one of TI recent acquisitions. That was as far as he could take the traceable jet. But with Brains' reinforced engines, hopefully, he'd touch down and be on his way, before his absence would be noticed around Gordon's morning swim. As late as breakfast on the island, if he were lucky and they thought he were working some issues out on a long run.

***

A ring of lights changed from default white to orange - something John had come to recognize as a perplexed frown. A hurricane he had been keeping tabs on shifted from yellow to red and the alert woke him up earlier than he estimated. But the hurricane wasn't the source of confusion for his protégé.

"What is it, Eos?"

"I'm detecting a discrepancy in Scott Tracy's schedule and itinerary. He hadn't been due at any of the Tracy Industries subsidiaries this week or the next."

It was John's turn to frown. Scott business meetings and engagements schedule was guarded with what John was sure his PA's life and strictly need to know with any on site security teams. Unbeknownst to Scott himself, since his recent loosing round with exhaustion, hypoglycemia and dehydration, about two thirds of the "matters that urgently required Mr. Tracy's attention", be it Tracy Industries or GDF, hell or high water, were rerouted through Five and screened first by John himself, then Virgil, Grandma or Kayo, depending on the occasion. An ad hoc meeting at a new, fairly minor, Eastern European subsidiary would certainly NEVER slip past the carefully erected firewall around their favorite overworked idiot. Yet the lit up line on the holomap clearly outlined the flight path of Tracy S - Scott's personal jet, almost as fast as Shadow, but rarely taken out for a spin these past years.

John moved to enhance the map and shuddered. He'd probably faint if he were not in zero G already - the destination dot flashed over an abandoned airfield in Poland, in the grey zone now, 5 miles of a forest track shy of the Bereznik border.

A red alert clackson blared over the still sleepy island...

TBC?

#methinks i have astronomy #thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs a hug #my fic #thunderbirds 2015 #bereznik headcanons #john tracy didn't sign up for this

47 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 2 years ago

Text

Ghost!Robin Part 10

Here's another WIP Wednesday! Hope you enjoy.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

----------

Alfred let out a put-upon sigh. “You, and you alone”—he gave a look to everyone at the table—“may ask Mr. Danny a single question. All other questions must wait until Mr. Danny has finished his dessert and informs you he is willing to answer more of them.”

“What the fuck does Jazz mean when she says ‘spoilers’?”

Danny sighed and leaned his chair back as he looked up to the ceiling. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair. You deserve an answer to that, dead boyfriend number two.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I’m finally not the only dead one in the family. Sorry, but I’m gonna revel in that a bit longer.” Danny grinned at him and set his chair back on the ground. “So, spoilers. Well. My grandpa is kinda the Ghost of Time. Responsible for maintaining the time stream to bring about the future that has the best outcome for the most amount of beings. We met a few years back when he was ordered to kill me but became my mentor instead. Since he’s the ghost of time, he sees all futures and doesn’t really exist in the present. Sometimes he refers to things that haven’t happened yet as if they have or brings up events from centuries or millenia ago as if they happened yesterday. Bit headache inducing if I’m honest, but I’ve gotten used to it. Jazz doesn’t like it when I share details about what Gramps has let slip about her future.”

“No I do not. I’d rather live my life as if I have some degree of free will!”

The silence from the Waynes was only disrupted by the increased typing from Tim and Barbara.

“You know what,” said Jason after a beat, “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Jazz, your brother’s life is insane and I say that as a zombie from a family of vigilantes.”

Danny shook his head and swallowed a bite of ice cream. “You aren’t a zombie. Zombies don’t retain any memories of their lives and they can’t think. Not sure what you are, to be honest. You’re ghostly in some way as evidenced by Robin and his ability to use and eat ectoplasm. Which you also recognized, if by a different name. Though, I will reiterate, ectoplasm shouldn’t bubble or collect in pits in the living realms.”

Jason stared at him for a moment before stabbing his spoon into his own pie. He muttered something under his breath and projected, restraint, hold it in.

Danny sighed. He really shouldn’t drag this out any longer. His remaining desert was gone in a few bites.

“Fine. I’m done. How do we want to do this?”

Jazz cleared her throat, “If I may, I have a suggestion.”

Bruce nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“Look, if we take the time to answer every single question about the Infinite Realms and ghost culture, history, biology, and psychology, we will be here for years. Now, Danny’s partner Tucker is our tech guy. We can have him send over a document tomorrow with much of the information we think would be necessary for you to have. You can review it on your own time line and verify it with Justice League Dark or whomever. And you can formulate a list of questions you need further clarification on. Sound fair?”

Jazz was the best. Danny sent her a wave of love you, thanks, you’re amazing and she squeezed his knee under the table.

Bruce hummed. “And what do you wish to talk of tonight?”

Jazz leaned back slightly and looked at Danny. “Danny? I think this is all you.”

Danny nodded. To the table he said, “Over half of you are in danger from the Guys in White. I suppose I should start with showing you how.” The ecto-trackers he had pulled out earlier still sat ignored on the table. He grabbed his own version and took a position kneeling between Bruce and Barbara. Tim got up to stand behind him. Everyone else also got to their feet and started moving closer.

Danny clicked his tongue. “The screen is too small for all of you to see. Jason, stay seated over there. It’ll be easier to show what’s going on with you if you and Robin aren’t right next to each other. Damian and Cass, you are the next most affected so come over. Everyone else, I’ll show you the exact same things just after.”

Cass gave him a single nod and slid out of her seat. Damian didn’t say anything, but pushed his chair out and stalked over. He stood as far from Tim as he could while still being able to look over Danny’s head at the small screen. Cass took her place between the two.

Whatever, their family drama was not his problem. He turned on the machine. “So this device tracks ectoplasm. My design is the most sophisticated on Earth. Green is free ectoplasm—ectoplasm that isn’t part of a ghost or sentient being. Purple indicates a liminal human. Blue is an unknown ghost. Red is a known, unfriendly ghost. Yellow is a known, friendly ghost. Orange is a halfa like me. The intensity of the color indicates the strength of the being.”

“What is a liminal human?” asked Bruce. “You’ve mentioned them before.”

“I didn’t go over that?” asked Danny as colored shapes began to appear on the screen. A bright orange blob appeared in the middle, himself. He was surrounded by three purple blobs, Cass and Damian were the brightest, Steph the dimmest at the other end of the table. But what really drew his eye was Robin. He was mostly blue, but a wave of blue-organge-purple connected him to Jason who was mostly purple. Both of their main beings had some of all three colors mixed in. Danny had never seen anything like it.

But he couldn’t focus on the strange display right now. Saving the image, he decided to ask Jason later if he could show Frostbite and Tucker to get their insight. “Liminals are humans who have been exposed to ectoplasm in some way. Either through death or long-term, low-level exposure. Overtime, it makes you death-touched and that changes a person. Everyone is different. Jazz has a degree of super strength, a ghostly obsession, and true empathy. Tucker has some technopathy; Sam a green thumb like you wouldn’t believe.” Though, this was Gotham, home to Poison Ivy. “Or, well, maybe you would, living in Gotham.” Danny pointed to the purple blob that represented Bruce. “This indicates you have quite a high level of liminality. Jazz”—he pointed to where she was, her color clearly brighter than any of the Waynes—“is currently the third most liminal person I know of on Earth.” He then pointed to Stephanie, a much dimmer purple haze. “And Steph is only lightly touched.”

Bruce hummed. “So this Ghost Investigation Ward will use a device like this to track any of us who have any sort of ectoplasm in us.”

“Yeah. Only theirs isn’t nearly as good.” Danny looked to his sister. “Jazz, mind passing the GIW device down?”

“Of course.” The GIW ectoplasmic radiation sensor had their signature sleek, white design. It was passed down the line from Jazz until Bruce was able to hand it to Danny.

“Thanks.” Danny took it and turned it on. “So the GIW design looks good, but can’t differentiate between different types of ectoplasm. As of now, they aren’t even aware of liminals.”

This device, when it turned on, showed a black screen with a white bar that went up and down at a steady pace. A loading bar was visible on the bottom labeled “Scanning.”

“As you can see, theirs takes a lot longer to get readings.” It finished loading. “Here we go.” Danny was a large green shape labeled “Phantom.”

Robin was also a green shape, though he was distorted with a tail leading towards Jason. He had no label. The others, excluding Stephanie who wasn’t displayed at all, showed up as a green haze.

“Thanks to my parents, they have good readings on me which is why my name shows up. They aren’t usually too focused on identifying ghosts, though, which is why Jason-Robin doesn’t have a label. I’m a special case. The rest of you are safe from a distance, but that haze means they’d take you in for questioning at the very least.”

“Hn. What is the range on these devices?” asked Bruce.

Danny shrugged. “My stuff? From anywhere. I track through the Infinite Realms, not by Earth. GIW? Jason-Robin, they’ll be able to detect something from probably ten miles out of city limits, but they’d need to be within half a mile to get an accurate location. The Fentons? Mile or so. They get an exact location or nothing.”

----------

I don't really think I have much to say about this segment. The info dump has started! Thank you Jazz for keeping people on track. Alfred will help her if he feels people start pushing too much.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management #ghost!robin #my writing #i had no idea where to stop this one #the scene just keeps going!#it would not have been nearly this long if my work hours hadn't been weird yesterday #the bats are definitely not happy right now

393 notes · View notes

sorinethemastermind · 1 month ago

Text

Sorvus Week 2024 | Prompt: Hearts of Cinder (No Warnings Apply)

Corvus knew that something was wrong the moment Soren wasn’t there to greet him and Ezran. And it wasn’t just that, nobody seemed to have seen him. Not since the attack, which at least Opeli was able to confirm that he’d made it out of. Corvus had been over the camp twice, even ducking into a few tents to check if he was there. He wasn’t. But several frustrated civilians were.

It wasn’t until his nerves calmed that he was able to think about it logically. He was a tracker, after all. If anyone could find Soren, it would be him. So he did.

He went through the entire camp searching for the familiar tread of Soren’s boots, finally spotting them by the clearing’s edge. Corvus followed them into the woods, wondering why his friend would have gone there. It wasn't like him. Soren rarely liked to be alone, and more than that, with everything that had happened, it only made sense for him to be at the center of what was going on back at the camp. Soren never turned his back on someone in need. It was one of the things Corvus respected about him most.

And yet here his tracks were, leading off into the woods. Corvus walked for a while, picking his way through the steadily thickening foliage until he began to hear the burbling of a nearby stream. And that was where he found Soren.

At first he didn’t understand why his friend would be sitting like that, hunched over and staring into the water. His first instinct was fear, that somehow he’d gotten hurt. But that didn’t make any more sense than him wandering off into the woods. And then he spotted the little things, the small details that he had missed at first glance.

The scorched marks on the fallen log Soren was sitting on.

The steam rising from the water before him.

The faint glow emanating from his hands where they rested in his lap.

“Soren?” Corvus asked tentatively, making sure to let his footfalls be audible as he approached so as not to startle his friend. “What are you doing out here?”

Soren, back already to Corvus, turned away further. “You made it back quick.”

He didn’t sound especially happy about it, and that… hurt in a way Corvus hadn’t been expecting.

“We got your message. Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Soren interjected, turning away again as Corvus neared. “You should get back to camp. They probably need your help.”

“They need your help too.” Corvus waited for him to turn and look at him, stopping a few steps away. “Soren, what’s going on?”

He heard the other man take a deep breath, then he turned to face Corvus all in one quick motion, like he had to do it that way or he wouldn’t be able to make himself go through with it. Corvus’ eyes widened. Glowing lines crisscrossed Soren’s face, disappearing into his collar and reemerging across the backs of his hands. They shimmered in sunset tones, shifting and changing. The same color had swallowed the blue of his eyes, the whites of his eyes turning black. This close to him, Corvus could feel the heat radiating off Soren, see that the puffs of steam he’d seen earlier were from the proximity of his shoes to the stream.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Soren said, voice wobbling. He glanced down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. “I know I look like some sort of… some sort of monster and I-”

“Soren.” Corvus sat beside him, ignoring the radiating heat. “You’re not a monster.”

“But I-”

“Soren.” Corvus said again, reaching out and gently untangling his friend's hands. He winced as their skin touched, thin threads of smoke rising from the places where his clothes made contact with Soren. But he ignored it. “You don’t look like one either.”

“I’m hurting you.” Soren gasped, pulling his hands back with a look of horror.

Corvus snatched them back, not caring. “Soren, look at me. Whatever this is, it will pass. Magic isn’t forever-”

“But what if it is?” Soren got up, trying to take a step back, but Corvus rose with him. “I… I already have Dark Magic in my system. And that’s forever. So what if this is too? What if this is me now? What if-”

“Then we figure it out.” Corvus told him, taking another step towards him. “I’m not going to let you banish yourself to the woods.”

“I’m hurting you.” Soren said again, his eyes drifting down to their clasped hands.

“I don’t care.”

“But-”

Corvus took another step closer, and taking a deep breath, let Soren’s hands go just long enough to wrap his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I thought I lost you, Soren.” he said, giving voice to the fear that had plagued him the entire flight back. “That hurt more than this ever could.”

Slowly, tentatively, Soren lifted his arms and hugged Corvus back.

“Just, let me know if I should-”

“Don’t stop.”

“Okay.”

Slowly Corvus felt Soren begin to relax. “I’m glad you’re okay.” he told him.

“Would you really call this okay?” Soren tried to laugh, but it died in his throat.

Corvus pulled back, stared into his eyes. They seemed a little… cooler. More purpley, less orange.

He opened his mouth to tell him, but had a realization. Maybe it wasn’t the Dark Magic in his system keeping the spell active. Maybe it was Soren.

He guided him back over to the fallen tree he’d been sitting on, and only a little smoke rose as they returned to their previous seats. Corvus didn’t let go of Soren’s hand.

“Maybe okay was the wrong word.” he admitted. “Because you don’t have to be okay. You know that, don’t you? That we’ll all still be there for you, even when you’re not okay?”

“Of course I know that.” Soren stared at the ground, at his shoes, at the smoldering grass under his boots. As he watched, the fire grew, a small flower shriveling and blackening. And the more Corvus watched, the more Soren watched, the more the flames climbed until he was forced to drop Soren’s hand and collect water from the stream to splash on it. Steam mingled with the smoke as the pair of them watched. Corvus took his friend’s hand again.

No, not friend. Soren was more than a friend.

“You know, you’re the reason I stayed in Katolis.” he told him. “Not King Ezran.”

Soren glanced up at him, eyes flickering for a moment. Corvus swallowed nervously, but forced himself to continue.

“I could tell that you weren’t okay, but that you weren’t going to ask for help. Sometimes I wondered if you didn’t know how. If it was never an option before.” Corvus took a deep breath. “But it is now. We’re here to help. I’m here to help. Because-”

He reached out, brushing the hair back from Soren’s face. His eyes were wide and purple. Corvus let his hand linger on the other man’s cheek.

“Because I love you, Soren.”

And then before he could think any better of it, or wonder if this would actually work, he leaned forward and he kissed him. And the kiss burned. But Corvus didn’t care, because Soren didn’t pull away, and he didn’t flinch back and ask ‘what do you think you’re doing’ like Corvus had pictured him doing a thousand times.

Instead he reached out and pulled Corvus closer, one hand resting on the small of his waist as the other traveled up to cup his chin and pull them together. And slowly the burning faded, and only the sweetness of finally doing this of finally admitting to himself that he wanted to remained.

When Corvus opened his eyes, it was to find Soren’s blue ones shining back at him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” he admitted. “Not exactly how I pictured it.”

Corvus laughed, an oddly free and joyous sound even to his own ears. And he kissed him again, because he could.

#sorvus #sorvusweek2024 #sorvus fic #corvus fic #soren fic #soren tdp #corvus tdp #my fic #fandom event #oneshot #drabble

28 notes · View notes

phoebepheebsphibs · 5 months ago

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 40: Biofilm

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Donatello races down the hallway, checking his trackers every few minutes to make sure everything is going smoothly with the others. After this is over, he's thinking of adding hidden cameras to their masks as well, so he can also see where they are, not just know their longitude and latitude. What good is knowing where a person is if you can't know what's going on?

Donnie started getting into the trackers phase when they'd first come up against the Foot Clan, and Raph had accidentally eaten a tracker meant for a salami paper stack. That had been the inspiration to start tagging his family. He'd installed the subdermal trackers sometime after then, working on different updates and methods of inserting them under the skin or under their shells when they weren't looking or conscious or aware or -- well, you get the idea.

But as time went on, he'd started thinking maybe adding a visual or audio aspect to the tracers was a good idea. It was starting to annoy him that his brothers and father would go places alone for long periods of time and he wouldn't know why or what was happening. Donnie would never consider himself 'clingy'. Or at least, he'd never admit that he was. Donnie was just... concerned for their well-being. And it always seemed like their well-being was coming into question whenever he was not with them. He should have added the video/audio feed to the trackers a long time ago.

He'd have known what was taking Leo so long to get them back after they'd been portaled to Tahiti.

He'd have known what Leo and Papa were doing with Big Mama while they dealt with the Shredder.

He'd have known where the Shredder and the Foot Lieutenant and Foot Brute and Cassandra took Splinter and Barry when they attacked their old lair.

He'd have known what the Krang were doing with Raphael when he was captured.

He'd have known what happened to Leo in the Prison Dimension.

He'd have known about Mikey's captivity and recapture.

He'd have known how to be the genius they all needed him to be.

He'd have known how to be a better brother...

Donnie swallows the thoughts and keeps on moving. He turns a corner and sees a strange laboratory, filled with machines and mechanisms and lasers and weird gadgets that Donnie would be more than happy to take home with him... But it also has what looks like a few medical devices stored in there as well. A CT scanner, an X-ray machine, other devices that Donatello recognizes from science-fiction films and spy movies that definitely won't be found in any normal hospital.

This looks like the kind of place that a man specialized in engineering and robotics would be hiding in...

Donnie sneaks over to the room, not caring about dodging cameras. The building's been evacuated, and even if it hadn't been, everybody already knows that they're here.

The door was left open by a careless employee trying to leave in a hurry. Perfect! Donnie's ninpo can create all kinds of stuff, but making small items to hack into things like security systems takes a lot of brainpower. And -- you didn't hear it from him -- it's difficult. His ninpo works like his mind, building the items piece by piece, engineering the weapons or defense mechs however he sees it in his head. And while he is a genius, even geniuses have trouble keeping track of hundreds of thousands of lines of programming. Even a small item like the USB flash drive he gave April earlier would take a lot of internal interfacing and coding... it's exhausting. But not impossible.

But fortunately, it isn't necessary.

Donatello sneaks in cautiously. It's strange how the room is a Frankenstein mashup between a doctor's office and a robotics lab. Secretly, Donnie is taking mental notes on how to incorporate some of these ideas and designs into his own lab.

There are desks covered with tools and blueprints. Cabinets with vials and liters of mysterious multi-coloured liquids. Tables with a few unpacked boxes stuffed with strange items and labels scribbled messily onto the cardboard. On one said table is a crate. Poking out of said crate, Donatello can see a wooden staff with purple wraps, two familiar blue hilts for what he can assume are twin katanas, and the edges of a battleshell.

"Our stuff!" he whispers to himself. They definitely need to get those back...

Donnie rushes to the box and starts rummaging through it. Yep, it's all here... Dee's gear, Leo's swords, Raph's sai. He reaches in and retrieves the weapons, looking them over for anything like tags or trackers that the TCRI or EPF would have placed on them. They look fine...

"My goggles!" Dee cheers, grabbing them quickly and placing them over his eyes to inspect the software. "Oh, thank God they didn't mess with my babies..."

"Don't thank Him just yet!" a voice cries out from behind him.

Donnie yipes before ducking, narrowly avoiding a swing from a madman behind him. He doesn't look like a guard, but instead wears a standard white lab coat. His hair is wild and unkempt, dark eyebags sag on his face, his chin is stubbled with untended scruff. By the looks of it, his only diet is caffeine and the suffering of others. He must be a scientist, then. His voice sounds familiar; Donnie's sure he's seen or heard him before...

"You were on the video files from the previous building!" he realizes, quickly grabbing his bō from the box and readying himself. "You made Mikey fight monsters in the Interaction room..."

"I see someone's been doing some research!" the man chuckles, his eyes wide and firey. "I'm flattered you recognized me. The name's Dr. Rod Timothy, not that you'll have much of a mind to recall that after I finish with you!!"

Donnie dodges as Dr. Timothy grabs a futuristic weapon from the table and fires it at him. Burning red blasts of light fly through the air. Dee ducks quickly, jumping to the side as he tries to come up with a weapon of his own. His mind always goes straight to the extreme -- 'go big or go home,' 'more bang for your buck', etc. Typically, the villains he fights are durable and super-strong mutants, they require bigger weapons like missiles and giant drills or hammers, etc. Humans are small, easy to break, but fierce and determined. They're harder to gauge, and Donnie has to search his mind for a weapon he can use against him without actually causing too much damage. Not just to the human, but also to the building itself. So missiles are off the menu.

Donnie's palm fills with parts and pieces that instantly grow together and attach in method and order, creating a mini grenade. He taps a button and sends the round object flying towards the scientist. It lands just a few feet in front of him and -- BOOM -- the flash grenade goes off, blinding the man as Dee uses his goggles to guide him through the room and find a place to hide.

"AGH!" Timothy screams, covering his watering eyes as he staggers around. "Y-you... you see, this is exactly why I was hoping you'd come here..."

Donnie peeks out from behind a giant scanner, watching as the mad scientist stumbles around chuckling.

"You creatures always have such a strange tolerance... it's superhuman...!"

The man looks up and looks around, pupils dilating like crazy as he frantically flails his arms and hands, feeling for something.

"And soon, I will be too..."

He really is insane, Donnie thinks to himself.

"If you're so keen on mutants, why'd you experiment on my brother?!" Donnie snarls.

Dr. Timothy reels around and stares blindly in Dee's direction, trying to listen as Donnie ninjas away to a new location to watch Timothy... and lure him into a trap.

"Oh, yes," Timothy laughs, the tears from his watering eyes streaming down his face. "You're brother was loads of fun. I enjoyed our little exercises and examinations thoroughly... Such a fun little plaything, a wonderful puzzle to take apart and put back together."

"Anyone ever tell you to get psychiatric help?" Donnie growls.

"More often than you'd think," Timothy cackles. "But they don't see the necessity of my methods! The vision! They're all sniveling, spineless, mindless plebeians who cannot understand the future..."

"What future is that?" Donnie asks, purposefully directing the man towards the far back of the room.

"Oh, one that you'd approve of!" Timothy laughs, blinking quickly, eyes darting back and forth. "A future free of humans. A future of mutants."

"What are you talking about?" Donnie asks, genuinely confused. "Chaplin wants to eradicate the mutants, why --"

"Oh, he's nothing more than a COWARD!!" Timothy bellows, fist pounding on the side of the table and sending small items flying. "He's a pathetic hatemonger who can't see that the only way for humanity to advance is to literally advance as a species and evolve! He thinks that what we need is to take out the competition!"

Dr. Timothy smiles so wide, his face contorts as though it's made of flabby plastic.

"I say we need to switch flags."

Donnie purposely knocks over small rolling cart of supplies, causing Dr. Timothy to stagger towards the sound.

"Chaplin is a visionary, though. And a golden goose. I never would have been able to pursue my research without his funding..."

"Well, the golden goose won't be laying anymore eggs for you psychopaths," Donnie huffs. "Chaplin's dead."

Timothy grunts at the news. Donnie can't tell if he's laughing, or making strange sad noises. The deranged fiend turns to stare blankly at the table, almost wistfully, reminiscing his fellow evil scientist.

"Well... he was a very significant man. Powerful, resourceful, determined... but I can't say that I'm not a little glad that he's gone."

"Oh?" Donnie chuckles. "No love lost between coworkers?"

"I had respect for the man, it's true," Timothy grumbles, reaching across the table strewn with supplies as he feels his way around. His fingers curl over a few of the objects laid before him as he moves forwards. "But his values and ideals were misguided and foolish. Only the strong come out on top."

"I'd like to think the smart ones have a pretty good chance, too..." Donnie remarks, stepping into a side room and waiting for Dr. Timothy to tag along.

"Oh, I agree!" he laughs, following Donnie's voice into the dark room. "Which is why I hate to see you die."

Timothy grips one of the items pulled from the table and clicks a button. A long laser-weapon activates, and he laughs as he runs in after the softshell.

"Nice sword-axe-laser-combo," Donnie smirks. "Where'd you get it? Hollywood Studios in Florida?"

"Do you like it?" Dr. Timothy grins sarcastically. "It's just one of the few things I thought to bring with me for this climactic stand-off..."

He presses a button and the door behind him slams shut with a mechanical hiss. Dr. Rod Timothy brandishes the weapon casually at the mutant teen who cooly holds his bō staff out at the man as well, ready for a duel.

"Does this room look familiar?" Timothy cackles. "If you really did the research, then it should. It's the same as the one your sweet little science experiment of a sibling was made to fight in! Only right we made another one for the experiments to follow... And I can't wait to see what happens to you in it."

Donatello smiles.

"You want me to fight you? The same way you made my baby brother fight your mutant monsters?"

"Oh, you can fight one of my monsters too if you want!" Timothy shrieks with laughter, holding up a small remote control. "With a push of a button, they can come pouring in. But for now, I want to see what you can do. See what parts of you to keep and what to... scrap."

Donnie sneers.

"So this is an assessment, then."

"I suppose so," Dr. Timothy shrugs. "But we'll see who wins."

Timothy charges, laser weapon at the ready. Donatello grips his bō staff and swings it, blocking Timothy's attack. A purple shield forms and pushes him back. Timothy grunts with effort as his feet skid across the tiles. He laughs hysterically, eyes growing ever wider.

He charges again, swinging the battleaxe around before striking again. Donnie's battleshell opens up and reveals a small jetpack, which takes him up into the air. He launches over Timothy and lands behind him, clicking a hidden button on the shoulder pad and activating a wire that wraps around the mad scientist. Dee launches again and prepares to strap the man from the ceiling and literally leave him hanging.

Dr. Timothy squirms about and manages to pull an arm out, fumbling with the laser device and cutting the line. As Timothy freefalls, Donnie's jetpack crashes him into the ceiling as it attempts and fails to compensate for the sudden loss of weight. Timothy pulls another device he'd taken from the table and points it at Donnie. A small gun, almost like a pistol, which fires out a sudden blue blast at Dee's jetpack. The rotors freeze, ice covers the exhaust ports, and the whole jetpack itself malfunctions and sends Dee crashing to the ground.

"Your brother showed a severe aversion to cold, so in order to keep him in line we created a series of ice-generating weapons like this handy little prototype," Timothy boasts, twirling the pistol around like it's a toy.

Donnie growls in fury. Timothy fires a few more shots, blasting the turtle in the arm and leg as he tries to get back up from the fall. Donnie yells in pain as his limbs suffer from ice burn and start to turn red and swollen from the cold blasts. Shards of frost and ice crystals form on the skin. Donnie gasps from the pain and starts rubbing his limbs, careful not to let the injuries turn into frostbite. Timothy fires another shot, but this time Donnie is careful to dodge it, jumping out of the way despite the pain. Timothy fires again. Dee swings his bō at the man, creating shield that blocks the blast. He swings again, dissolving the shield and reforming it to create a replica pistol that fires directly at the weapon, clogging the barrel of Timothy's gun with ice.

"That was good!" Timothy laughs, dropping the gun before his fingers freeze to the metal. "Nice deflection! And it's clear that I could not defeat you physically. Your mutant genetics must have enhanced your bone structure and muscle mass, yes?"

"That's one theory," Donnie snarks at him. "Or you could just be a weak old guy with a pathetic toy gun."

Dr. Timothy laughs again.

"I'm technically not old, I'm 36."

"That's old, dude."

"Kids these days..." Dr. Timothy sighs. "If brawn cannot win, then perhaps brains shall..."

Dr. Timothy starts clicking buttons on the remote, setting off a few movement-tracking firearms. Donnie recognizes the sleek black metal machine guns from some of Mikey's recorded sessions in the Interaction Room. Dee creates another shield and avoids the torrent of bullets and darts that fly as Dr. Timothy advances again.

"Let's see how you fare against two threats at once!"

Donnie ducks back, hand and staff flying forward as he thinks up a quick weapon to make for his defense. A purple ninpo hologram forms over the wood, creating an imitation of his old tech-bo. A giant mechanical fist ignites at one end, and Dr. Timothy and Donatello exchange blow for blow, guarding and attacking as the two simultaneously dodge bullets from above.

"Where do you come up with these weapon ideas? Jupiter Jim's 19th Return to the Moon?"

"Two distractions at once, and he still finds the mental capacity for a rib!" Timothy laughs. "I should spar with my creations more often..."

"I am not your creation!" Donnie yells. "AND NEITHER IS MY BROTHER!!!"

Donnie suddenly snaps, kicking Dr. Timothy in the chest and sending him back into the wall. Timothy's weapon knocked from his hand, Donnie grabs it and flings the laser cutter towards the turrets, tearing them in half and destroying them completely.

"Very well done!" Timothy chuckles nervously, as he half-struggles to get up. "Well done indeed! You are quite the adversary. But, I would wonder how well you'd fare after I become one of YOU!"

Donnie watches in confusion as the scientist pulls a syringe from his pocket. It's glowing green.

"This is a mutation formula that I've reverse-engineered from some samples I found over the years. Your brother is one of them, true... but the majority of the formula comes from a few mosquitos we found buzzing around..."

"Draxum's ooze," Donnie gapes, his voice a horrified hush. "You're going to mutate yourself?!"

"It's about time I evolved into the higher species!" Timothy cackles madly, his mind fully gone. "And now with Chaplin out of the way, there's no stopping me!!"

"Wait!" Donnie tries to warn. "You don't know what that will do to you!!"

"I know exactly what will happen!" Timothy screams back. "I will finally be the apex predator!! Now watch as I become a random creature of mass destruction!!"

Timothy stabs the syringe into his arm, the re-created ooze seeping into his veins.

"Random?" Donnie questions. "No, you'll just turn into the last biological organism you came into contact with."

"Wait, what?" Timothy questions, sobering for one second. "What do you mean, the last thing biological organism?"

"The ooze combines your DNA with that of whatever you touched last. Didn't you know that?"

"No! How would I know that?!" Timothy screeches, gripping his sides in pain as the ooze starts to recreate him.

"Looks like somebody didn't do their homework after all..."

"What am I going to become?!" Timothy shrieks, his whole frame shaking.

"Well, what did you touch last?"

"YOU!"

"No, you never actually touched me," Donnie clarifies. "You're wearing gloves, and your weapons hit mine, but we never came into actual contact -- details matter in science, you know..."

"W-WHAT'S HAPPENING TO M-M-MEEEEEE?!?!" Timothy screams, his voice fluctuating and gargling as he begins to sweat profusely.

It's not sweat.

His skin is melting.

Donnie watches with a sickened expression as Dr. Timothy's body begins to turn into a sludge, the skin tone changing into a slimy fungus-green, every part of him slowly dissolving and gooping together in a way that turns Donnie's stomach. He looks away, and forces himself to keep away even as the man screams and pleads for mercy and help. His voice is literally drowned out as his vocal chords liquify along with the rest of him.

It goes quiet. Donnie shakily turns to see what has become of the poor deranged man. Nothing remains but a puddle of gelatinous ooze wobbling on the floor several feet ahead of him.

"L-looks like your reverse-engineered formula wasn't complete," Donnie gulps. "Or maybe the ooze really did transform you into the last thing you touched... which would have been the ooze itself. Whatever the solution, I'm not going to stick around for --"

A gurgling scream tears the room apart, as the gelatinous blob starts moving, shifting, and reforming into a sloppy mess of a man.

"Lₒₒₖ wₕₐₜ yₒᵤ'ᵥₑ dₒₙₑ ₜₒ ₘe!" Timothy shrieks, his voice a wobbly, watery mess as he slowly pulls himself together. "I wₐₛ mₑₐₙt ₜₒ ᵇe ₐ fᵢₑᵣcₑ ₘᵤₜaₙt! Nₒₜ ₐ ᵇₗᵤbᵇeᵣᵢₙg … ₜhᵢₙg!!"

The newly transformed Timothy charges at Donnie, his arm elongating and stretching like those slappy hand things Mikey was obsessed with at the age of six. Donnie dodges it at the last second, the hand slinging across the room and sticking to a panel on the wall. It rips the panel straight off, revealing a section of machinery hidden behind it.

"Whoah!" Donnie yells, dodging once again as the arm comes slinging back.

"I dᵢdₙ'ₜ wₐₙₜ ₜhiₛ!" Timothy screeches as he continues his tantrum. "I wₐₛ sᵤpₚₒₛₑd ₜₒ bₑ ₜₕₑ ₐₚeₓ ₚᵣₑdₐₜₒᵣ, ₙoₜ ₛₒ��e ₚₐₜₕₑₜᵢc ₛₗᵤdgₑ fᵣₒₘ ₜₕₑ ᵇoᵗₜₒₘ ₒf ᵗₕₑ fₒₒd cₕaᵢₙ! ᴺᵒᵗ a gˡoʳⁱᶠᵢₑᵈ aₘebₐ! ₙₒₜ ₐ Lᵢvᵢₙg Wₐₗₖᵢₙg MUD PUDDLE!!"

Timothy's body morphs again, his form splattering in twenty different directions and splashing onto several frames and tiles from the walls, ceiling, and floor. He pulls them apart, releasing a robotic arm that reaches down and attempts to attack the two of them. Donnie slides to the side and avoids the robo-arm. Dr. Timothy's tentacle releases from a section of the wall and accidentally tangles around the mechanism, getting stuck inside the gears and causing it to malfunction. The arm swings back and forth, trying to catch Donnie or Dr. Timothy before becoming hopelessly trapped in the glue-like goo that the scientist has become.

"Wₕₐₜ ₕₐᵥₑ yₒᵤ ᵈᵒₙₑ! ᵂₕₐₜ ₕᵃᵛe yoᵤ dₒₙe! Wₕₐₜ ₕₐᵥₑ yᵒu ᵈoₙₑ!" Timothy wails as he flails about the room.

His arms knock loose the devices hanging from the ceiling. They come crashing down, splatting Timothy flat and trapping him momentarily.

"Sorry doc, but this was all you," Donnie states, dodging one of the slimy appendages before tuck and rolling towards the door. "And no offense, but I've had enough slimy tentacle-induced sensory issues for one year, so I'll just see myself out..."

"Yᵒᵤ ₕₐᵥₑ ₜo ₕeˡᵖ ₘₑ!" Timothy screams, reaching out for the ninja in desperation.

"There's nothing I can do for you now, Tim," Donnie scoffs as he picks up the remote from the floor, avoiding Timothy's sludge and slime. "You wanted to be a mutant, so now you're a mutant. Congrats, welcome to the family."

Donnie stares down at the remote and all the little buttons it comes equipped with. He presses one, and the door opens.

"But don't worry. After everything you did to my brother, I won't just leave you here alone to rot..."

Donnie turns to face the mutant man, and gives him a cold smile before pressing every button on the remote.

"You said something about 'monsters flooding in at the push of a button,' right?" Donnie asks, his smile becoming almost like a snarl. "How about I leave you with some company?"

Every trapdoor in the room opens up, and hundreds of glowing red eyes appear from the darkness. The sounds of snarling and growling and howling and yowling starts to fill the enclosure.

"ᴺᵒ… ʸᵒᵘ caₙ'ₜ ₗₑₐᵥₑ ₘe ₗiₖₑ ₜₕiˢ!" Dr. Timothy begs.

"You said you wanted to be a mutant," Donnie sighs, clicking the button to close the door. "You can chill with your own kind now. See how long you last."

"Nᴺᴼ0oₒo0Oᴼ--!!!"

The doors close just as the monsters creep in and pounce for the slime man.

Donnie blinks for a moment before exhaling loudly.

"...Karma... is absolutely insane."

Prev || Next

#double mutated mikey #tw character death #tw self-experimentation #tw self-mutation #tw mentions of body horror stuffs #tw Donnie leaves a guy to die #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #fanfic update #fanfic rec #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #tw body horror

33 notes · View notes

din-miller · 1 year ago

Text

A Little Jive Is Good for You

PAIRING: All Bad Batch Boys x AFAB Reader (gender neutral) no incest/all separate stories

Summary: Reader surprises their partner with a new sex toy called Jive. (It's a wearable g-spot vibrator)

WARNINGS: 18+, sex toy, app controlled sex toy because we fancy here, oral (cunnilingus), fingering, semi public sex (?), tiny bit of angst (sorry echo), thigh fucking, I don't know what phones are called in Star Wars so I'm using device as a placeholder for now, afab, gender neutral reader, all established relationships, tbb headcanons but it's spicy

A/N: I originally wasn't going to write for Crosshair but the setting of the fic didn't work with the others so he made the cut. Congratulations buddy.

Hunter doesn't notice the app at first. It's not until half his Caf is gone, the article he's reading is finished and his thumb swipes back to his home screen that his eyes fall upon the newest icon.

We-vibe

He frowns, never having heard of it before. For a brief second he wonders if he should get Tech to come over and look at it. Make sure it's not a virus or some kind of tracker. But his curiosity gets the best of him. It's probably some kind of prank of Wrecker's. He's done it before. So, Hunter takes his chances and opens the app and he's met with a dark purple background and a bold-all-caps word.

TOYS

Definitely Wrecker's doing.

He hits the play button and it takes him to another purple screen, this time a lighter shade. There's four squares that surround a circle and inside that circle there is a smaller one labelled JIVE.

With a little hesitation Hunter presses on the smaller circle that he's able to move around. He plays with it, swinging it around inside the big circle before moving it to the bottom left square right on top of a little wave symbol.

Three things happen at once. A faint pulsing sound comes from the cockpit followed by a gasp and a wave of arousal – your arousal – hits his nose so hard that his cup falls out of his hand and onto the floor, bouncing a few times as warm Caf spills onto the ship's flooring, but his hands are too busy clenching the table to notice.

His nostrils flair, seeking the smell of your arousal, breathing it in deep inside his lungs and his tongue darts out to taste the air. Sweet and faint, yet it sits on the tip of his tongue and his eyes close, picturing the glistening of your wet pussy, the way your walls flutter around the toy – kriff, what he'd do to have his cock buried deep in your tight cunt.

Hunter breathes out your name, a plea and you're appearing before him naked as the day you were born.

"Ner kar'ta," Hunter swallows, eyes unapologetically locked on your sex, "Look at you, so wet, so beautiful."

You're in front of him now, his head perfectly lined up with your dripping cunt and his fingertips gleefully trail up your thigh stopping just where you ache for his touch.

"Hunter, baby, please!" You beg, desperate and unashamed. He must sense your desperation, because his hand lays flat over your mons pubis and his thumb rests on your outer folds. He doesn't part them, just presses lightly against them.

"I can feel the vibrations," He grunts, eyes falling close, "I can feel the anticipation as it rushes through your body, the need for pressure, for movement against your wet pussy. It calls to me, ner kar'ta."

"Kriff, answer it then!" You growl, pushing his chair away from the table and throwing a leg over his thighs to straddle him. You rock yourself against his clothed sex, seeking friction against the throbbing of your own.

"Very demanding for someone who started this," He reminds you, but his arms wrap around your waist, device forgotten as he helps you move against his cock, "Not complaining though."

You snake a hand down between your bodies to change the vibration with the built in button. This one's stronger and your hips jerk up, separating from Hunter but the clones quick to pull you back down onto his lap.

Slowly, teasingly so, he removes the toy and presses it against your clit with the palm of his hand as his fingers coat themselves in your arousal before sliding into your cunt.

It doesn't take you long to reach your orgasm, in fact it slams into you at full force when Hunter presses against your sweat spot with just the right amount of pressure.

Then his own orgasm stains the blacks he's currently wearing, messy and so fucking hot. He rarely cums in his pants – preferring to do it in or on you – so when he does your ego inflates. At least until Hunter pulls another orgasm out of you.

Echo had figured it was Tech's doing too. His brother is always updating his technology, making sure everything works. He even programmed all the apps and keyboard to be one handed accessible.

Everyone except you and him had gone out for the next few hours, leaving the ship empty and comfortably silent. At least it was silent until Echo's curiosity got the best of him and his thumb started flicking the small circle labelled JIVE around.

He doesn't have heightened senses; he can't hear the toy, can't smell your arousal. It's not until you appear at the cargo holds door way, wide eyes locked onto the device in his hand with a desperate 'please' falling from your lips that he knew the app wasn't Tech's doing.

Echo's heard of apps like this. A way to pleasure your partner hands free. He went down the rabbit hole of sex toys when you and him first became sexually active. A fear of not being able to properly please you with only one hand plagued him night and day until you sat him down and reassured him that he satisfies you plenty.

"Please," You plead once again, crossing your leg over the other one seeking friction against your core as you squeeze your thighs shut, "Echo, kriff, I need more."

Echo's eyes flicker down to your body, clad only in panties, then to the screen in his hand. His thumb gives an experimental slide of the JIVE button and you stumble towards him, a wave of arousal soaking your panties, and without missing a beat you sink into his lap. Echo's dress in just his blacks, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants and the first brush of your sex against his is utter bliss.

His scomp snakes around your waist balancing you on his lap as he awkwardly tries to catch the device in his hand as it slides from his grip, his brain a little too distracted by the whispers of vibration against his cock to have proper coordination to hold the device.

A part of you is begging yourself to move and take off your panties, to free Echo's cock and slide your drenched folds over the wide width of his sex, but as much as you love pussy jobs you can't seem to separate yourself from your husband long enough to take them off.

So instead you unapologetically hump against his clothed cock, moaning when he moans at the feeling of the toy's vibration against his length.

Neither of you last long, which in all honesty is never a disappointment, and thankfully the night is still young and the way your husband is looking at you, you know you'll be sore tomorrow.

Wrecker finds out about the toy by feeling it. You've momentarily forgotten you were wearing it until his fingers found the tail end of the toy as his deft fingers slip into your panties.

Your back is to his chest as he brackets you in with his meaty legs, one hand palming your tit as his hips expertly grind against your ass.

You've spent the day teasing him; dirty flirting, a brief risky flash of your tits – his biggest weakness – just to build up to this moment.

"Aw, mesh'la, did you get a new toy without me?" His fingers blindly feel out the new toy, or at least the part not inside you, until he finds a small raised bump near the end of the toy. His finger settles on the button but doesn't press it, awaiting your consent.

He's always been like that, a big man who will wait hand and knees to get the go ahead. Especially when it comes to sexual activities and new toys. You admire that about him, consent being the key to everything he does, but right now? Right now you want him to hold you against his chest until the vibrations shoot through your core and leave you a sobbing mess.

The need makes you beg without embarrassment, "Press it, kriff, don't tease me!"

The moment the toy activates you're letting out a silent scream, eyes rolling into the back of your head, body arching up and away from Wrecker's chest as the vibrations pulse inside your tight cunt, right snug against your g-spot.

His hand firmly squeezes your tit before pinching your perky nipple, his breath hot against your neck as he gently nibbles against the flesh again and again, leaving marks, claiming what's his.

His finger travels down farther until it reaches his target; your dripping cunt. He coats his finger with your juices before gently guiding it inside you, right behind the back of the toy.

Nothing about Wrecker is small, his fingers are meaty, chunky, and he knows it. With one finger he curls it in into the silicon of the toy, pressing it against your most sensitive area. Your hand shoots out to wrap around his wrists, nails leaving red crested shapes in his flesh and it's all you can do to keep the tears building up at bay.

You can't stop the cry that leaves your mouth as your arousal soaks through your panties and drips onto the mattress below you. Kriff, you didn't even last half a minute before cumming. It's the quickest you've ever finished and you probably should be a little ashamed of how fast it was, but Wrecker's chest vibrates with the loudest moan you've ever heard from him;

"Mesh'la, I'm gonna–,"

"Wait," You shakingly push yourself up farther onto his torso until his cock slides through the opening of your thighs, "Fuck my thighs, baby, let me see you cum."

He groans, needing no further instructions before fucking your thighs, fast. His precum acts like natural lubricant as his cock jerks back and forth, hot and heavy between your thighs.

"Squeeze around my cock, mesh'la." Wrecker grunts breathlessly and you press your thighs together tightly. The toy is still vibrating inside you and you reach down to the built-in button to turn it off, overstimulated.

Wrecker's fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as his release paints your thighs, his cock helplessly twitching between the valley of your legs as he cries out your name.

Once you catch your breath, and can lift a finger, you'll show him the app. Show him how to use it. Maker, you can't wait.

Tech knew right away what the app meant for, his codpiece already becoming too restricting before he even opens the app.

He calls out for you, wanting to see your face as it overcomes with pleasure. Pleasure he's giving you, he's responsible for.

The moment you walk into the room and see his lust filled gaze, app open on his device, you're stripping yourself of your clothing, sitting across from him in the co-pilot's chair, legs spread wide to give him a clear view of your pussy.

He doesn't activate the toy right away, instead he's leaning forward in his chair, eye locked onto your cunt. He's studying the part of the toy he's able to see and you roll your eyes fondly before snapping your fingers together.

His eyes shoot up to yours, swallowing at the blatant need that reflects back at him. It's clear that neither of you will be lasting long. Not this time at least.

"I trust you're smart enough to figure out how to work it." You teasingly trail a hand down your body, ghosting over your sex before retreating back up to your chest to play with your breasts.

"Of course," He huffs, adjusting his goggles, "It's a basic design; clearly fashioned by humans with a basic understanding of technology–,"

With a soft chuckle you bring a hand down to hover over the built in power button, "Then you'd know I can control it with a quick press of the button right here. Really, I don't even need you–oh kriff,"

Your hips jerk up, a surprise moan falling from your lips as the toy buzzes to life inside you and your walls clench around the silicon, "Tech!"

"Too much?"

You shake your head, fingers clenching the arms of your chair, "No, it's good, it feels so good."

Tech hums, eyes once again locked onto your pussy and you know he's silently debating with himself on whether or not to take a holo. You're about to tell him to just take one but all that leaves your mouth is a pathetic whine as the vibrations change to a stronger setting.

Tech's out of his chair and on his knees before you, "I want to taste you."

That's basically all the warning you get before your legs are hooked over his shoulders, his tongue darting out to collect your arousal before spreading it over your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your sex before pulling back, "You're so wet for me."

You nod, eyes rolling back as his mouth returns to your sex, "All you for, Tech. It's all for you."

Crosshair knew instantly that the new app was your doing. You're the only one who knows his passcode. He just didn't know what the app was designed for.

He had ignored it at first, letting most of the day go by before managing to corner Tech and demand his brother tell him what the app was. Of course Tech had simply explained everything about it, but when he went to go turn the toy on Crosshair shoved the barrel of his rifle under the clone's chin. Tech was smart enough to make himself scarce.

Now with the knowledge of what the app was designed for, Crosshair was in control with you willingly at his mercy. He lets you continue your faux innocent act, pretending himself that he hasn't noticed the app.

He'll wait for the opportune moment to arrive. He's a patient man, he's not weak like his brothers. We won't wait on hands and knees for you to come to him and you know that.

The moment comes almost five hours later as he volunteers himself and you to do the supply run Echo and Tech were originally signed too. Hunter had given him a questioning look, obviously wondering why he'd willingly offer to do something he'd usually bitch about doing.

Crosshair had just glared back at his brother and Hunter was smart enough to end any further questions there.

"So," You start, eyeing the man beside you as you walk side by side through the market, "Why us? Echo was relieved to be getting some fresh air, you know. You also hate people, crowds and shopping. Have to admit, I'm a little baffled."

He doesn't look at you but his words are sharp, "You're not an idiot, ner kar'ta."

"I've never claimed to be one, I– oh, you, you wouldn't," You come to a halt, pulling Crosshair with you. Your eyes are wide, full of fear and a building of desperate want, "We're in public, Crosshair."

"Best not make a scene then."

It's not an order, nor a demand, it's a challenge.

One you already know you're going to lose.

But then again this is Crosshair, the man you've spent all day unknowingly giving him a raging hard-on. He's pent up, sexually so, and that's your doing and that doesn't go unpunished.

So it doesn't really come as a surprise that when you're about to cum he turns off the device, denying you of the orgasm you're desperate for.

Because when you do cum, you'll be on your knees, mouth wrapped around his cock. Not here, in a crowded marketplace; not when he can't praise you. Not when he can't taste himself on your lips.

–

Sorry about how roughly Tech's ended. I've never been good at writing cunnilingus. Blow jobs on the other hand I'm a master at but that's mostly because I've spent ten years writing gay porn.

#my first tbb fanfic I'm scared as hell #warning 18+ content #my first 18 plus fic posted on here too 😬#the bad batch #the bad batch headcanons #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb headcanons #tbb fanfiction #justice joy writes

163 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Four: Sirius

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

No one could know, but Sirius was fairly certain he was going insane. He dreamed of Remus. He glimpsed him in dark, dreamscape spaces and then in London. All of their familiar spots. But he was always turning a corner, or walking in front of Sirius who couldn’t seem to reach forward. His name always stuck in Sirius’ throat.

The dark safe house ceiling was no comfort when Sirius jolted himself away for the hundredth time.

“Do you ever wonder…” Remus had begun that sentence more than a year ago, and Sirius still believed that he wouldn’t have been able to guess what he was about to say.

They had been in London, at George’s, on their second beers and making their way through their chip wrappings. Some happy Irish song was bouncing around the shop, but Remus’ expression had been solemn. He’d chewed slowly, staring out the steamed up window. The fog made his brown eyes look like milk poured into coffee.

“What?” Sirius had prompted, knocking the necks of their bottles together.

He remembered being thrilled to have Remus all to himself this late into the night. He didn’t live near Sirius, but near his parents and his little brother, Julian. Sirius didn’t like thinking of them. He’d tried to look in a few times, but seeing ten-year-old Julian’s face had been nearly as horrible as watching Remus get dragged away. It’s my fault, he’d wanted to say. He’d wanted to beg for Julian’s forgiveness and also tell him that he didn’t deserve it, all at the same time.

“George,” Remus had called. “Can you turn this one up?”

The song was already loud, but George shrugged and dialed it up three more notches. Sirius’ neck prickled. He was worried about listening bugs.

Remus had looked around George’s fish shop before leaning a little closer. Freckles, Sirius always thought. Freckles like stars. “Do you ever wonder about them?”

Them. It was the word for Salazar.

“Wonder,” Sirius had repeated. “What do you mean?”

Remus pressed his lips together.

“Re.” Sirius shook his head. “Talk to me—”

Remus’ phone had started to ring. Sirius had caught a quick glimpse of the name before Remus had excused himself to take it outside.

Pascal.

The memory faded when James, laying beside him, reached over at patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Sirius sighed. “How did you know I was awake?”

“You breathe differently.”

“You’re just used to watching Harry sleep.”

“Maybe,” James said. “Maybe you need a little bit of babying, too, to make up for lost time.”

Sirius snorted. James knew about his parents. Cold, passionate people with their ideas in all the wrong places.

“Leo’s on watch?” Sirius asked.

“Yep. Think we can teach Finn a few tricks so we can all get more sleep?”

“Not a chance.”

James laughed softly. His phone briefly lit up the darkness as he checked the time and then groaned. “You’re right, but damn. We should be asleep while we can. You change over at dawn.”

“Honestly, I think I’ll be glad for the distraction.”

“What, you’re own head getting to you? You? Wow, I never would have guessed that.”

Sirius reached out blindly and whacked him in the chest. James hit him back, but they settled again. He tried to match his breathing to James to see if he’d noticed and received another pat.

“It’s something with their memory.” Sirius had to force the words out.

“Yeah.” James swallowed audibly in the dark. “I think so.”

“I don’t…” Sirius shook his head. “They’re killed—we saw them die, and then they show up and—”

Did Remus not know him? Sirius felt sick thinking of it. He tried to put himself in Finn’s shoes, who he’d left curled on his side with all of his clothes on, staring at the brick wall through his bedroom window. If they found Remus—or, like Logan, let Remus find them, would Remus not recognize him? Did he even know his own name?

“We saw them shot,” James said. “We never…We assumed they were dead. Their trackers went offline, we thought their bodies got thrown over—”

“What if whoever took them disabled the trackers?”

“We need to know for sure who we were dealing with six months ago at Sounion,” James said. “Black market and weapon dealing isn’t enough. We need names.”

Sirius could see the three faces they’d managed to track. The woman, and the two men—brothers, most likely.

“Why did Salazar call off the mission after we lost Lo and Re?” James hit the mattress with a harsh palm. “That’s what I can’t fucking wrap my head around. Why not get those fuckers?”

Do you ever wonder about them?

Sirius didn’t know how to say it to James. Had Remus meant Salazar? He’d refused to speak about it after the fact. But now Salazar wanted Remus shot on sight. He thought of whose safe house they were in, and whether it was really safe at all.

“I never asked before,” James continued. “Because I didn’t think it was any of my business…” Sirius knew what was coming when James turned towards him in the dark. “But did—”

“No,” Sirius said to the dark ceiling.

“You didn’t even hear my question” James asked.

Sirius reached out and grabbed James’ wrist, tapping twice on its inside. Their own code. Someone might be listening. He made something up and knew James would go along. “He wins enough money off me, he kills at poker.”

“That he does,” James replied without a beat, but he was tensed beside him. A moment later, he was pushing himself up. Dawn was beginning to make a faint orange line across the bedroom war, coming in through the kitchen.

“C’mon,” James said. “They’ll be setting up the markets. Leo’s on watch. Let’s bring him coffee and wake up our little passenger and go over that phone call radius.”

Sirius looked up at him in the dim light. “Logan always did like leaving at dawn.”

He was reluctant to rouse Finn. The room was freezing. They would have to do something about that. Finn’s suitcase was open on the floor and clothes half spilled out. There was no room for any sort of dresser—or maybe just no care for it. No one stayed long enough, perhaps.

“I’ll do it.”

Sirius turned to find Leo standing behind him. He looked tired, and cold. He was holding a cup of the coffee that James had made—way too strong.

Leo rolled his eyes a little at Sirius’ expression, then shouldered past him. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Really?” Sirius said. “I’d be a mess.”

He already was a mess. It had the intended effect, making Leo pause to look at him before settling on the edge of Finn’s bed.

“Finn,” Leo said gently. “Are you awake?”

“Are you awake?”

Sirius drew in a slow breath before opening his eyes. If anyone had told him, upon entering the academy, that his roommate would be a fucking talkative insomniac, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“I am now.”

Remus Lupin’s silhouette pushed up from his cot across the small room. “Are you hungry?”

Sirius could still see him there, half-silhouette and half moonlight. He hadn’t known that he would be entranced, for a long time, by how handsome he thought Remus Lupin was. He’d thought that from the very beginning.

“Sure. I’m hungry.”

Sirius went back into the kitchen. He didn’t want to watch this part. He didn’t want to watch Finn wake up and remember.

James looked at him. He was in his own dark, sleek winter jacket, had a black beanie pulled low, and his contacts in. He cupped his mug close to his chin and watched Sirius add milk to his own—how Remus took it. Sirius looked back at him once he was holding his own mug, too.

James’ single arched brow said all he needed to. Of course Salazar is listening. He darted his eyes around the room. This is their safe house.

Sirius nodded, but he didn’t know how to communicate, Remus was worried about something and I didn’t realize it soon enough in just one glance. He didn’t even know how to say it to himself. Salazar had been a part of their lives for the last decade. They’d got through training together, him, Remus, and James. And then had come Logan and Finn, two years later, and then, finally, Leo. Malfoy and the other higher-ups were old-fashioned and crude, but the work they did was important. Necessary. They were protectors.

James just sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “I miss her grilled cheese.” Lily. He wouldn’t give anyone else who might be listening a name. Just like how, for Logan, Finn was always Red, or Rouge.

What would Sirius have called Remus, if he were a civilian? If he weren’t always at his side. If they weren’t always in danger together. Would that have been better? Remus waiting at home for him? Sirius, waiting at home for Remus? He didn’t think so. He preferred Remus in his sightline. He preferred the option of diving in front of a bullet for him. Only distance prevented him from protecting Remus.

He should never have let Remus go down those cliffs without him.

James cleared his throat to get his attention. He had written something down on a napkin. In his scratchy handwriting,

TELL ME.

Sirius didn’t know what he was going to say, but he looked over his shoulder where he could hear Finn and Leo’s soft voices. He wrote quickly:

R X TRUST S?

James read the words and his reaction fell over his face. He flicked his eyes up to Sirius. Didn’t trust Salazar? Honestly?

Sirius shook his head.

Why?

Sirius shrugged and shook his head again. He’d never gotten Remus to say.

Leo was about to come down the hallway, Finn on his heels. “Are we ready?” Leo called.

James was still frowning, hazel eyes worried, as he stuffed the napkin in his remaining coffee to bleed the ink away.

“We’re ready,” James said, though Sirius didn’t feel it.

#Christmas Eve will find me lumosinlove #winterfic 2023 lumosinlove #wolfstar #spy au

82 notes · View notes

0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years ago

Note

#8 smut

Warnings: semi-public sex, breeding kink, breeding, unprotected sex (p in v)

"H?" you said softly from beside him and he looked away from the conversation he was listening to, to give you his attention.

"Yes, honey?" he asked you with a tipsy smile.

"Look." you said with an annoyed frown and showed him your phone in your lap. Your period tracker showed that today was the day right before you ovulated. You had been trying to get pregnant for several months now and after consulting with your doctor he explained that your highest chances were a couple days before or right on the day of ovulation. You two had been aiming for that, but it had been challenging as something always seemed to get in the way. Like now, you guys were at a friend's wedding.

Harry mentally sorted through his options. He wanted to give you his baby so badly, he was tired of things never really aligning. You'd been trying long enough and it was about time he got you pregnant regardless of where you were or what you were doing, a quicky wouldn't hurt anyone. He'd fuck you and give you his sperm as many times as he could tonight and tomorrow to increase the chances of finally knocking you up. He looked away from you and cleared his throat as he stood and extended his hand to you.

"C'mon." he said to you softly and you stood up, "Excuse us." he said and the people at your table nodded before he started pulling you away to the exit of the venue.

"H, what're you doing?"

"I am getting you pregnant tonight." he said as you started to rush through the parking lot to get to you car. You felt your body heating up and your arousal starting to increase at the idea of having him put a baby in you. Not just a baby, his baby. You'd been wanting this since before you even got married and now everything in your lives was perfect for this next stage of life. He quickly unlocked your car and opened up the backdoor, "After you, honey." he said with a smirk and you climbed in. Harry glanced around the parking lot as he removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the passenger seat before climbing in and shutting the door.

You immediately climbed into his lap and kissed him hungrily. He moaned as he mumbled to you to kneel up and you did. He slid his hands up your bottom, bringing your dress up with him. He kneaded your ass in his hands as he shoved his tongue in your mouth sloppily. You were both a little drunk, but it made it all the better.

"We should hurry, H." you swallowed thickly as he kissed down your neck.

"Need to get you nice and wet so I can get in real deep so it sticks, my love." he mumbled and you hummed with a smile.

"What makes you think I'm not wet enough already?" you asked him and he pulled away from you and looked into your eyes.

"Already?" he asked you and you nodded meekly, "Just dying for me to get you pregnant, aren't you?" he asked with a grin and you nodded again.

"Can't stop thinking about it." you said softly and he groaned as he leaned in to kiss you again.

"I can't either." he confessed against your lips before bringing one of his hands back to your front and using his three middle fingers to rub over your clothed pussy. He could feel how hot you were and just how easy the glide was even through your panties. "Fuck..." he moaned lowly with a pleased smile and you bit your lip as he rubbed on your clit. You let out a soft moan and he grinned, "Right there?" he asked teasingly and you nodded.

"Yes, but we need to hurry." you reminded and he sighed.

"Right, right..." he groaned and you chuckled.

He hummed as you grabbed his face gently and kissed him deeply. He got distracted as you kissed him slowly and passionately. Rolling your tongue over his, nibbling on his bottom lip occasionally, getting you both wound up. You could feel him so hard beneath you and you smiled as you humped yourself against his erection. "Shit." he sighed against your lips.

"Ready to give me a baby?" you asked earnestly and he nodded.

"Yes, my love. Fuck, yes." he hummed as he deepened your kiss once more before you frantically started to undo his pants. When you finally freed him up you stroked his cock a couple times, biting your lip as he hissed in sensitivity. "I've got this." he said grabbing his cock and you placed your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself up a bit. When you felt his tip tickling at your crease you smiled and just lowered your weight onto him.

"Ngggg- fuck!" you moaned at the initial stretch of him opening you up. He groaned when you had sat fully and he was just wrapped up in your tight, wet, warmth. He could feel your walls squeezing him in time with your heart beat. You couldn't wait and started using your knees to help you bounce up and down, grinding every time you'd sink onto him.

"Fuck, you do that so well, honey." he praised you as he let his head drop back against the head rest, "Want a baby? Keep working for it, my good girl." he hummed and you smiled. You started fiddling with his buttons to expose his chest for you. He chuckled as you scratched down his chest, he hoped you left a mark, wanted everyone to know where you'd run off to.

Harry then pushed your straps down your shoulders and scooped your breasts out of dress, immediately latching his lips to your left nipple.

"Oh fuck! Ouch!" you yelped and tugged at his hair when he bit down on it just a little too hard.

"Mmmsorry." he muttered, "But gotta get used to it, love. Heard the babies bite sometimes." he said before kissing over to your right boob, "Fuck...your tits are gonna get so big they probably won't fit in my hand like they do now." he said and you bit your lip, "Think I'm gonna like it so much gonna keep giving you babies so they stay like that." he mused as he flicked at your nipple now. You moaned at the thought of him wanting to get you pregnant over and over again, you'd do it for him though.

You didn't know if it was that you were ovulating or the fact that you had snuck away from a wedding to get frisky in the car, but you were your so horny for him and it was building your orgasm quickly. His cock was hitting the perfect spots inside of you, filling you up perfectly, like always. You were obsessed with his thigh grip on your ass, helping you maintain your rhythm to get you both there. You moaned loudly when he started pounding into you from beneath you, wincing occasionally when his tip kissed up against your cervix.

"Sorry my love, gotta get in real deep. Make sure my seed gets as far into your tight, fertile little pussy as it can." he grunted with each hard thrust. You were frozen now, just clinging to him as he rammed inside of you hard. "Fuck, that's where it belongs doesn't it?" He panted, "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, fuck s'where it belongs. Want it so bad." you keened and he groaned.

"Fuck, wanna make me a daddy?" He asked you lowly and you nodded.

"Yeah, H." you sighed in pleasure, starting to get to the point of no return. You were grinding your hips down to meet his thrusts as best as you could, you needed his cum inside of you. It was more than just wanting to have a baby with him because you loved him. It was coming from a part of you that had no inhibitions, you felt like you were made for this suddenly, like it was your job, you were the person he chose to have this with. You were the only person who could give him a baby and you wanted to. "Thank you," you panted and he hummed.

"For what, honey?" he asked you with a teasing smile.

"For choosing me to have your babies." you whimpered and he just about melted hearing you say this. He loved when you got all subby like this for him, it lit something inside of him that he often felt out of touch with.

"Fuck, s'cause you're so good for me." he grunted, "Need a good girl who does as she's told, who sneaks away with me to get bred in the car, no questions asked. You deserve it, honey." he grunted with each thrusts, "And fuck, you take it so well, baby. Gonna look so gorgeous with my baby right in here." he rubbed over your tummy tenderly, "Doing what you're meant to do." he said lowly and you nodded, "Jusy for me, huh?"

"Yeah baby, just for you." you whimpered, "I'm getting so close!" you sighed as you started to rub over your clit.

"I know, my love. Me too. Feels so good inside of you." he said before he kissed your lips briefly, "Let's go slow, need to make sure as much of my cum as possible stays inside." he said as he started to slow down. The change in pace threw you both off for a minute, but his deep and steady pounding had you feeling like your very foundations were cracking apart, splintering open further and further to allow him in deeper and deeper until you were trembling in his arms.

"I'm coming!" you whimpered and he nodded.

"Good girl, finish up." he said as you worked yourself over him as your pleasure overcame you, you couldn't be quiet, not with how deep he'd gotten. It was a beautifully chaotic blend of pain and pleasure. As you were coming down he repositioned you to lie across the back seat and he was between your legs thrusting fast now, trying his best to get to his end. The sensitivity was making you go crazy, but you also didn't want him to stop, it felt too good. But he groaned deeply and you knew it was about to be over, "Shit...fuck, take my all of my cum. Let me breed you, honey." he panted and you could feel him shooting his sperm inside of you in thick ropes.

"Fuck, please give me a baby." you moaned.

"I will. I will for my good girl. So good for me. " he sighed as he stayed inside for a few moments. He reached for his jacket hanging on the seat and dug around the pocket before pulling out his phone and he turned on his flashlight. "Tighten up for me, honey." he instructed and he ignored the chill racing down his spine as your walls hugged around his sensitive and softening cock as he proceeded to pull out of you very slowly. He spread your pussy to see his sperm starting to trickle out. He sat properly and instructed you to rest your bottom on his thigh. "There we are." he said as he scooped up the little bit that hard started to drip and gently pushed it back inside your sticky little hole, "Good. And now we wait." he said softly and you hummed. He ran his hands up and down your legs as you guys waited this out for a few minutes.

"I feel really good about this one." you said and he smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm." you confirmed with a smile.

"Good, honey." he hummed happily. You obviously couldn't wait the recommended 20 minutes it was better than nothing.

You both climbed out of your foggy Range Rover, both looking a little sloppy and disheveled. Harry didn't bother with doing his shirt back up, he just shrugged his jacket back on.

"Oi!" you both heard from behind you and you turned quickly at the startle but then you both relaxed when you heard Grimmy, Mesh, and Alexa laughing maniacally.

"Jesus..." Harry scolded them as he led you over to them.

"What were you naughty kids doing in there?" he teased, clearly drunk off of his ass.

"None of your business."

"S'alright he's just asking to be polite we heard plenty..." Alexa assured you two before she took another drag of her cigarette and you shook your head in embarrassment and Harry frowned.

"Hey, c'mere mate, c'mere..." Nick insisted and Harry sighed as he went over, "You're gonna be a dad!" Nick said, "Smile! You should be happy!" he urged drunkenly, using his fingers to lift Harry's cheeks and Harry easily gave in and smiled brightly as you started to laugh, "I mean, you wouldn't have snuck out of a wedding to have a shag in your car if you didn't want this badly." he mused and you chuckled as Harry laughed along with Nick.

"I suppose that's true... Well to baby Styles, may this be the one." Nick said raising his glass and then chugging it down.

"Well Mesh, if you have any advice on parenting, I'd really appreciate it." Harry said and Nick looked at him like he was insane while the rest of you laughed, "I'm asking him because he's engaged to a literal child." Harry teased and Nick rolled his eyes before Harry kissed his cheek, "Love you, mate." he said with a grin.

"Let's head in yeah?" Alexa asked as she dropped the butt of her cigarette on the ground and you all nodded in agreement. Harry was holding you close as you walked back to the reception area and he kissed the side of your head.

"You really think we did it?" he asked you quietly.

"Think so, but we can... keep trying tonight if you want, no harm in that." you hummed coyly and he smirked.

"Oh no, we're definitely going to try over. And over. And over." he hummed lowly and you smiled.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPTS HERE

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #husband!harry styles #husband!harry x wife!reader #picture prompts 2 #0nlythrowharrybeaux

201 notes · View notes

kieran-granola · 1 year ago

Note

for post-kinktober prompts—how do you feel about jaytim & a predator/prey dynamic? the particulars of that are in your hands, especially since you’ve yet to write a fic i didn’t enjoy <3

The sweat dripping from Tim’s hair stings his eyes with salt.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been running, but it’s been a while since he gave up on presentability. His lungs are burning. The ambient noise of the city has been swallowed by the beating of his heart in his ears. Every step he takes turns his body heavier and heavier, and he can tell that it won’t be long before it fails him altogether. He leaps from one building to the next on shaky legs, the taste of iron rich in his mouth—

A hard body collides into him mid-air.

His assailant plucks him out of the sky with an easy strength that reminds him of Kon. Tim tries to use their momentum to roll away when they land — to escape, not to fight, not this time, not when he's so obviously outmatched — but he fails. His head spins as he finds himself pinned to the rooftop on his belly, panting into the gravel with his arms twisted behind his back.

“Gotcha,” the Red Hood hums into his ear, the modulated voice coldly steady.

Tim’s heart quickens impossibly. Fuck. He’s been caught. There’s no way for him to free himself, not without breaking something. He should have left his pride behind and called Batman and Robin for help. He should have run for Cass's patrol route instead of trying to reach his Nest. He should have done anything but try to outrun the Hood on his home turf.

He hears a click and a hiss behind him, then the sound of Jason's helmet hitting the ground. He scrunches his eyes shut on instinct as Jason leans down to lick his cheek. His tongue is warm and wet. By contrast, the air feels freezing when it hits the trail of saliva on Tim's skin.

“You gave me a good chase, little bird," Jason praises. His luminescent eyes give the night an unsettling green glow. "It's going to make taking you all the more enjoyable."

"You can't do this," Tim tries. "You won't get away with it."

Jason laughs. "Yeah? Who's going to stop me?"

"Batman knows where I am. You know that."

Jason ties Tim's wrists together with the ease of practice. He finds the closure of Tim's suit without a hint of hesitation and pulls the zipper down far enough to expose his throat and the curve of one shoulder.

"And where are you? On your territory. Two blocks away from your own bed. Do you think he'll be worried when he sees that your tracker has stopped moving here?"

"There are cameras everywhere."

"Not in the Alley, there aren't."

Jason straddles Tim's thighs, his weight heavy and foreboding. Leather whispers behind Tim's back, then Jason's hands find his throat. They don't linger, but the threat of suffocation is enough for his pulse to spike… right before humiliation blooms in his stomach as he realizes that Jason is collaring him.

"You can't just—You can't just claim me like this. Let me go."

"Birdie, I caught you. I'll do whatever I damn well please."

The collar falls into place, its buckle burningly cool against Tim's nape. Tim's body goes pliant as a wave of submission crashes into him.

So this is it, then.

He lost.

Oh, of course, he could hurt himself. Thrash, bite, fight like a trapped wolf gnawing its own paw off. He could spit and scream, and hope for anyone to stumble on them. But he's so tired. His head goes fuzzy as the last dredges of adrenaline fail him, and he lets the buzz fill him from head to toe.

Jason hums in approval. Then, with a possessive growl, he sinks his teeth into Tim's exposed shoulder.

———

(Later, when they're done, the collar will come off. Jason will help Tim clean himself up, and massage his sore arms. He'll carry him to their shared bed and compensate for chasing him and fucking him to exhaustion by feeding him and holding him safe and sound.

He'll be kind, considerate, and tame. Nothing like the ruthless predator Tim asked him to be.

But Tim will remember the chase. He'll remember the fear, the exhilaration, and the rush of submission. He'll remember being owned, and helpless in all the ways he never dared to want.

And somewhere, deep down, he'll hope that his skin will hold the shape of Jason's teeth and remember it too.)

#jason todd #tim drake #jaytim #predator/prey #or some attempt at it? maybe i should have made it kemonomimi #i don't go here I don't KNOW #kieran writes

93 notes · View notes

galaxywhump · 1 year ago

Note

Prompt: Wren doing something that's blatantly stupid/suicidal (like going out into the jungle to pick fights with the wildlife) when he becomes apathetic about his own life, and Daniel's reaction to that?

[SV-240 masterlist]

Thank you for the prompt, anon! Sorry it's so late, it's been in the making for a while now and I finally got the motivation to finish it.

Warning: this is a rather heavy one; it's also not canon.

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, suicide attempt (nothing graphic), depression, restraints, comforted by whumper.

~~~

Wren leaves the house without Daniel’s knowledge.

He still has the tracker, of course, but when he left, Daniel was napping, so hopefully he won’t wake up for a few more hours. Wren just wants to go for a swim in the picturesque pond he remembers the path to. He’s unarmed, without so much as a kitchen knife, but he’s not scared. He’s not anything.

There is an emptiness inside of him that has had a grip on him for several weeks now. It’s the sort of hopelessness he’s been trying so hard to avoid, but instead of making him Daniel’s loving partner, it’s only making him… do this. Go for a walk in the jungle, looking straight ahead, not scanning his surroundings, barely flinching when he hears rustling and other sounds of the dense forest.

He’s had these thoughts a few times before, but now he’s decided to follow them. Not directly, even though he knows there are several options inside the house; instead, he lets fate decide, since it seems to control his life anyway. So he goes for a swim. If fate decides he should stay underwater, he won’t fight it, nor will he fight if it decides not to let him reach the pond at all.

He’s clothed, and yet feels so exposed, a puny human in a jungle full of animals he knows nothing about, having only met one, which tried to kill him. Maybe there are others like it. Maybe one is already stalking him.

Keep walking, not running, walking with calm emptiness. Get away from Daniel’s house, leave his life on the jungle’s mercy. He frowns when he feels a small pang of regret. He should turn back. He should live. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? He’s far enough that the way back would be anything but safe, and he doesn’t want Daniel to question him once he returns. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, and keeps walking.

There are noises all around him.

There’s a noise somewhere behind him.

Soft steps, a low growl. He’s being stalked.

He closes his eyes.

And then there’s a familiar man-made sound, cracking bolts of plasma piercing the air; one followed by the sound of the animal fleeing, one hitting a tree just a few centimeters left of Wren, making him jolt in place.

“Hi there,” he hears Daniel’s voice, almost playful. He swallows and slowly turns around to face his captor, who’s standing still with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

“You missed,” Wren says, lifting his chin, though there is nothing more to his defiance, no spark in his eyes.

“If I wanted to shoot you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” There is no affection in Daniel’s voice, and Wren prefers it this way. “Have you forgotten about your tracker?”

“No.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“What was even your plan?”

“I went for a walk,” Wren explains, looking him straight in the eye; his expression remains empty.

“Good one,” Daniel scoffs. “You know you’d be dead before the day’s over, don’t you?”

“I do.”

The silence that follows is unbearably heavy. Daniel gets it, and for a split second he looks genuinely surprised before going back to his usual unbothered expression.

“Come here. Let’s go home.”

Wren doesn’t break eye contact.

“And if I run?” he asks. “Will you miss again?”

“I’ll shoot, but I won’t kill you. I’ll target your leg, maybe both, and I’ll drag you back. Now come here.”

He does, his head lowered, brow furrowed, mind blank. The jungle around them is bustling with life, never completely quiet, yet the silence between them feels suffocating enough that it could spread over the entire forest, forcing it into stupor. Neither of them says a single word on the way home.

Home. Wren sighs. Home. Daniel’s house is his home now, there’s no denying that. He’s too tired to deny anything anyway, not to mention worry about what Daniel’s going to do to him after his stunt.

They’re still silent when they reach the house and the door closes behind them. Wren follows Daniel to the living room, sits down on the couch, and watches him retrieve two pairs of leather cuffs.

“You’ll have to be restrained more after this, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Wren puts his arms in front, wrists close together, and does the same with his ankles. The cuffs close, a familiar sensation, and he stares down at them, barely feeling anything.

“It’s for your own safety.” Daniel doesn’t crouch down, doesn’t sit next to Wren, still standing in front of him, towering over him.

“Yeah,” Wren repeats, his voice monotone; he only wants this pointless conversation to end, and Daniel can sense it, which doesn’t mean he cares.

“Look at me.”

When he does, Daniel frowns seeing the weary emptiness in his eyes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks, and his accusatory tone makes Wren flinch, like he’s being scolded. It’s the last thing he wants to experience today.

“Take a guess,” he mutters, lowering his gaze, as if even looking up requires too much energy.

Daniel sighs and his frown deepens. He knows the truth, as much as he doesn’t want to accept it.

“I won’t let you do that, Wren.”

“I know. Cause I have nowhere to run, right?” For the first time today, there is something in Wren’s voice, the tiniest of sparks. “I can’t fucking escape you and this-this fucking nightmare, I’m stuck here and you won’t even- you won’t even let me-” He gets choked up, and to his frustration he tears up. “Fuck, just fucking hold me already and spew your bullshit, I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

Without a word, Daniel sits down next to Wren, who leans against him and exhales slowly when Daniel embraces him.

“I’m not going to spew any bullshit. I just…” Daniel trails off for a moment and gives Wren a light squeeze. “I wasn’t expecting this, and it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts you?” Wren laughs in disbelief. “Poor you, the guy you’re keeping captive and torturing is a depressed loser. Cry me a river.”

“It hurts me because I love you, Wren.”

“You said you weren’t going to spew bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit to me, and I hope that soon it won’t be bullshit to you, either.” Daniel sighs, a heavy sigh that makes Wren even angrier, which he knows is, at the very least, better than complete emptiness. Daniel doesn’t have the right to feel and react this way, not when he’s the cause of all of this. “And remember that you were depressed even before I bought you.” He feels Wren tense up at that. “You can’t pretend otherwise, it was right in your file. Depressed, isolated, drinking problem. You were lonely, and that made it possible for Berkeley to make you disappear without raising any eyebrows. Now you’re here, I’m here with you, I know about your problems, and I want to help. On my terms and at my pace, but I do.”

“You’re not helping,” Wren croaks, trying and failing to blink away tears, Daniel’s blunt words feeling like a dagger piercing his heart, over and over again. “I wasn’t- It was better than this, I wanted to get better, I just…”

He just couldn’t, and it was only getting worse, until he started spending entire hours - he was too busy to afford days - curled up in his bed, staring at the wall, questioning the point of it all, and he was alone, completely alone, and-

“On Earth, I wouldn’t have been there to stop you.”

Daniel’s words are like a punch to the face, strong enough that Wren would sway on his feet if he wasn’t sitting down. It’s true, he realizes in horror, and a painful sob reverberates through his body; he slumps in Daniel’s embrace, overwhelmed by the most terrifying what if he’s ever had to consider.

“Shh, sweetheart.” Daniel gently runs his hand up and down Wren’s arm and pulls him closer as he sobs, unable to stop, because Daniel is right, and he was so stupid, and in a twisted way he almost let Daniel win.

What could have been back on Earth doesn't matter anymore. Here, if he dies, Daniel wins. It’s a way to escape, but it comes at too great a cost, and now that he can think more or less clearly again, he can’t believe he even attempted that. So stupid, so stupid, and if it wasn’t for Daniel, the very same person he's fighting against, he wouldn’t be here right now.

He won’t thank Daniel, he can’t, but he leans into his touch ever so slightly, and he’s still crying, so overwhelmed by what he almost did and so relieved that he’s still here, still fighting.

“Cry it out, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

For the first time, though he would never admit it out loud, he’s grateful for that.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#slavery whump #forced relationship whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #suicide tw #suicide cw #creepy comfort #depression whump #restrained #sv-240 #wren rackham #daniel rooney #my writing #so much time passes between updates i forget all my tags #anyway thank you for the prompt anon i really loved it!#writing this was really cathartic and i hope you enjoy

70 notes · View notes

syluriar · 1 month ago

Text

my lady - sylus x briar (mc)

a/n: a little rewrite of sylus' cat card so it fits my mc's personality more. mc's name is briar and will be used. i haven't wriiten fanfiction (espically smut) in a while, and it's my first time writing sylus so except mistakes.

warnings: smut. minors do not read.

word count: 4347

The piles of boxes of gifts are more than Briar could have ever imagined, wrapped in exquisite paper that she was positive costs far more than it should. Some even tied together with bows, or studded with jewellery.

How the rich live.

She wasn’t there to gawk at such things, but being a person who never had so much money to spend it on presenting a gift…she can enjoy this a little bit. It’s why she’s unwrapping them gently, savouring the softness of the paper and the shines of the studs.

Maybe I could save some for myself to use? Tara would like these.

Sylus, however, was tearing them apart within seconds. It doesn’t surprise Briar, knowing just how rich the man was, he probably thought the boxes were cheap, and not at all pretty.

Well, he might not be wrong on that part. Briar thinks as she picks up another box. Red and orange? Seriously?

“A prophecy book from 2,000 years ago?” She looks at it in shock. The book lover inside of her was interested, prophecies were a weird thing, but interesting to learn about.

“Boring.”

Well, at least to her it is.

Opening another box, Briar raises her eyebrows at the object before her. “A Protocore cat wand? It’s powered by a Protocore and automatically switches between different modes.” She gives it a little wave, the two small golden bells jingle.

Out of instinct, Sylus paws at the cat wand, but immediately looks away in disdain. “Tch.”

Seeing him act more like a cat, Briar can’t help but giggle and waves it again. His cat ears twitch at the sound, but he makes no move to catch it. He does, however, frown at her. “It won’t happen, Sweetie.”

Maybe later then. Rolling her eyes, Briar puts down the wand beside her and opens another box. Her eyes widen at what it contains. “Is this…a collar?”

It’s black leather and soft in her hands. She feels around the edges, thumbs brushing over the metal latch. Why on earth would someone send this? Obviously you would get it for a cat, but Sylus is still human, and putting a collar on him…

Her cheeks go warm, the image of Sylus wearing this entering her mind.

That would look good…

“Our fish has taken the bait,” His voice breaks her daydream which she is grateful for, and she turns to him. Inside the gift box he had opened lies a deep blue Protocore. Through the light surrounding it, Briar spots a string of floating numbers within.

“It matches up with the intel! Snowy Owl is really interested in you…” Though the mission has been a success so far, the thought of another woman wanting Sylus doesn’t sit right with Briar. Not only is he vulnerable in the state he’s in now, but the thought of another woman touching him -

“Why are you frowning? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Briar blinks, and jumps back as Sylus appears next to her legs. When did he get so close? She swallows her nerves before replying. “It is, I’m just wondering what to do next.”

Sylus raises a brow and leans his head closer, but Briar averts her eyes to avoid looking at him, her cheeks starting to warm again at his closeness.

In doing so, she spots an open box that holds a bottle. “What’s that?”

Sylus stops and follows her gaze, his white gloved hand picking up the bottle and reading it’s inscription before handing it over. Briar tries not to think of her heart skipping a beat when her fingers brush against his, and looks at the bottle.

“Some long-distance hypnotising spray?” That...actually could work. A plan quickly forms in her head. “I’ll use this against her and place a tracker in her room once she’s fallen asleep, then the Association can take over.”

Sylus hums, one of his cat ears twitching. “So, is that me used up?”

Briar raises a brow at him, a previous conversation of them using each other plays through her mind. A lot of their previous encounters do, and she tries hard not to wince at them as she remembers how unkind she was. But she’s gotten closer to Sylus now. The man she first met is different before her, and not just because of his cat features.

“Well, you’ve still got to get me off this yacht and back home, right?” She smiles lightly and grabs the cat wand, using the feathers to gently stroke his cheek. “You can’t leave me yet.”

She expects him to chuckle at her words, or even look annoyed at her using the cat toy on him. Instead she’s surprised when his eyelids falter at the touch, his tail starting to move around a bit faster than before. Wanting more reactions, she glides it under his chin, making him tilt his face up, his eyes boring into hers.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you, My Lady,” His voice, while soft, had a hidden tone to it she can’t quite place.

Briar swallows her nerves once again. It’s clear that he’s enjoying what she’s doing, he would have told her otherwise if not. Feeling brave, she reaches out with her other hand and gently rubs at the tip of one of his ears, making his eyes widen in surprise.

She giggles. “You’re so cute right now, Sylus.”

“Cute, huh…” He huffs and narrows his eyes. “Even though these ears are only temporary, they’re a part of me for now.” He shifts his body so he’s leaning against the sofa, an arm bent at the elbow near her leg. “You shouldn’t touch me so casually. I’m not used to it.”

His words heat up her cheeks and make her heart beat faster, like many times they happen in his presence. She lowers her hand to rub at the base and a soft sigh escapes Sylus’ lips. “I guess you’re well acquainted with a cat’s weak spot.”

“Your reactions certainly do help,” Briar finds herself replying and discards the cat wand, her free hand now coming through the strands of silver hair. “It’s only me here Sylus, there’s no need to hold back.”

She doesn’t know where this confidence comes from, but she’s blaming it on the mood within the room. It always comes out with Sylus, as well as her shyness when he gets too close or says something too intimate. It’s strange, but Briar finds herself liking it.

Her words do something to him as more pleasant signs come from his lips, his body leaning more into her touch and his tail in a frantic movement. He moves his body closer to her, giving her more access to touch him. “..Yes. This side as well,”

Her heart beats so loud as she follows his command that she’s afraid he’ll hear it, but she just can’t resist. She can’t remember when Sylus has been so vulnerable and bare to her, with his walls usually up and just enough softness escaping just for her. To see him so open like this is an opportunity she doesn’t want to waste.

Just as she’s about to slide her thumb up the side of his ear, he suddenly grabs her wrists, halting her movements. She can't even ask why before she yelps, as he moves their bodies. Her back pressed against the back of the sofa and Sylus' body between her legs, rising on his knees. A hand softly rests up her bare thigh, while the arm that previously rested next to her cradles her chin, forcing her to look at him. A small stroke of pleasure goes down her spine at his touch, the gloves doing nothing to hold back the warmth from his hand.

“Having fun, kitten?” His eyes held a twinkle of mischief, though most of the time they always do. “What’s next? Scratch under my chin hoping I’ll purr. Rub my stomach if I roll over? Feed my treats if I’m good? The possibilities are endless.”

“Sylus-” Her hands move on the sofa for balance, but in doing so nudges something besides her that jingles, and they’re eyes follow the source of the sound.

It’s the collar, sitting perfectly and peacefully.

“Or perhaps…” Sylus picks it up and holds it between them, a smirk on his lips. “You'd like to collar me.”

“Huh?” Briar looks at him confused. Does…does he want to wear it? Surely not. Wouldn’t such a thing be too embarrassing and degrading for the leader of Onychinus. “A-Are you saying you want to wear this?”

Sylus shrugs. “Why not? You seem to like having me as a cat, so why not go all out.” He pushes the collar in her hands, the damn smirk still on his lips. “Put it on me.”

Her breath hitches, lost for words at his command. Looking down at the collar she rubs the material once again, the tag jingling faintly. That dream of taming him comes to mind, the way he sat on his knees and bound before her, the collar on his neck she kept toying with.

Is this deja vu?

“Well?”

Briar finally looks up at him, the glint of amusement in his eyes shining as if telling her that she wouldn’t dare follow through. “Ok.”

She unclips the metal and leans forward, his body still towering over her. “You need to lean down more,”

Sylus merely gives an amused huff and follows her words, their foreheads now almost touching, his nose just barely brushing against her own. “Like this, sweetie?”

“...Yeah,” She swallows and leans forward again, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the job he’s given her. Her arms holding the open collar as she puts her arms around his neck, heat thumping as her fingers graze against the skin of his neck and she slides her fingers down the collar, coming to the openings. She puts an end through the strap and clips it into place -

“Hmmm that’s too loose, kitten.” He breathes by her ear, a gasp almost escaping her lips. “It needs to be tighter if you don’t want it to come off.”

You’re the one who wanted it on. She wants to bite back, but shakily unclips it. She pulls the end through further. “Like this?”

“Tighter.”

She’s sure her face is bright red, her heart beating wildly and her body warm. She pulls more on the end and clips it.

“Good girl.”

She whimpers. His lips touching her ear and his hands wrapped around her waist, her legs almost hugging his own and her hands holding his shoulders. “Sylus…” He nips her ear causing her to gasp, his lips travelling down along her neck and to her shoulders, leaving kisses in their wake. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” He hums as he places another kiss on her shoulder. “I’m just being a good cat for his master. She’s taken such good care of me, so I want to reward her.” His lips glide across her skin, making goosebumps along the way.

Perhaps it was a bad choice to wear a dress revealing her neck and shoulders, parts of her body Sylus liked to touch the most with those soft lips of his. She’s lost count how many times she’s looked in the mirror and covered the marks up with make-up, and the look on her coworkers face when she wore turtlenecks for a week wasn’t one she wanted to experience again, especially Tara’s smug look.

Briar pushes against his shoulders, despite them weighing more than her own body. “Sylus…don’t…”

It takes a few more pushes, but eventually Sylus relents and moves away, his hands staying at her waist. “What’s wrong sweetie? By your little noises and blushing cheeks, you’re enjoying this.”

Briar breathes heavily, her body hot and an ache coming between her legs. The loss of his closeness gives her relief, but her body calls for him more. “I…I still have to complete my mission.” She can’t waste any more time if they wanted to be off this boat before the sun’s up, and no matter how badly she wants his lips on her skin again, the mission needs to come first. Something she’s sure Sylus understands.

His thumbs start to caress her sides, however she doesn’t think he’s doing that to comfort her. “I know sweetie, but it’s gonna be a while before dawn comes, and we’ve worked hard tonight. Let’s have some fun before we go, shall we?”

It’s one hell of a decision, and it doesn’t help when his thumbs start to get harder in their motions. She knows he’s desperate for her by the look in his eyes, and if it was any other man he would have pounced on her minutes ago. But this is Sylus, the man who would be wanting to ravish her for thousands of years, but would never make a move without her consent. Just one of the things she adores about him.

She swallows his surprised gasp as she kisses him, but it doesn’t take him long to return the affection, and when he licks her lip for entrance, she gladly gives it to him. Her hands holding tightly on his blazer as he devours her, a deep gasp leaving her lips when he finally releases her.

He grins. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

Briar giggles, one of her hands rubbing along one of his ears. “Do you really need to ask?” Her hands glide down to undo his tie and throw it away, not caring where it lands. “Since we have a while, I assume you don’t mind being the lovely butler you are and attend to me, do you?”

“Oh sweetie,” His eyes darkened and his voice lowered, a tone Briar found so utterly attractive “It would be my pleasure.”

In a flash he’s back on his knees before her, a sight she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget, and gently lifts up her right leg with one hand. Her breath hitches as he slowly peppers kisses down her calf, his other hand following behind. “My Lady’s feet must be sore after such a long day, allow me to tend to them.”

He slides a high heel off gently, placing it on the floor against the sofa before rubbing his thumbs and fingers over her foot, pushing harder against some points and circling the flesh softly in others.

Briar sinks into the comfort of his touch. She’s fairly used to messages thanks to Sylus treating her after time she’s faced a difficult Wanderer, or if her body was just sore from daily things. It’s always the same high end and sleek luxury one he books her in for, the staff knowing her by appearance alone. She enjoys it there as it gives her a chance to unwind and relax, and the staff were ever so gentle with her.

Despite that, she finds Sylus’ touch far more comforting, even if it ends up turning her on.

Her high heels now off and feet massaged, Sylus makes his way up, his hands sliding up her bare legs to where he meets her dress. His closeness makes Briar twitch in anticipation, which makes him chuckle.

“Anxious, sweetie?” He smirks at her and pushes the dress up her legs till it reaches her waist. Briar blushes hard as she watches Sylus’ hand crawl up and gasps as they touch the edge of her underwear. She knows she’s wet, but when he looks down and grins, it almost makes her want to shield away from him from embarrassment. “And soaked as well, I see.” He tsk’s playfully. “I must clean My Lady before she gets more dirty.”

He pulls down her underwear painfully slow, and she bites back a whine. Of course Sylus is teasing her, he always has. But ever since he found out that she likes it she hasn’t gotten it straight since, except on their first time in bed.

Briar gasps as he lifts her legs, placing her heels on the edge of the sofa and thighs far apart, exposing her greatly to his eyes.

She blushes hard.

Sylus however licks his lips, anticipation glowing in his beautiful eyes. A finger, still gloved, makes its way down her thighs and to her clit, and swipes down before entering her. “Your very wet, My Lady. However, did this happen?”

“Sylus -” Briar whines, her hands clenching hard beside her on the sofa seats. “-please,”

He hums as retracts and licks the finger, his tongue twirling around that has Briar twitching. He just needs to lean down and do that to her, she can already imagine what it feels like. “Please what?”

She pants. “Please…fuck me with your mouth.”

The gleam in his eyes darken. He wraps his arms around her legs and pulls her towards him as he leans forward, his breath just hitting her folds that has her squirming. “But of course, My Lady.”

She’s felt his mouth on her many times, but she will never get tired of the pleasure when he finally descends on her. She gasps loudly, legs immediately jerking at the wonderful sensation. His tongue goes all over her from her clit to her opening, and once he’s done it too many times, he goes for sucking different places that has her whimper and groan.

“You taste so sweet, My Lady.” He whispers against her, teeth just grazing. “Will you allow me to indulge more?”

It takes Briar a few minutes to catch her breath to answer, panting hard and body heat through the roof. “...I will, as long as you make me cum,”

Sylus chuckles and kisses near her clit, his hands now gripping her thighs tighter. “That was never out of the question, My Lady.”

Now he’s devouring her, like a starved man that hasn’t had a drop of water for weeks. Her hands fly and latch into his hair, nails almost digging into his scalp, but only spurs him on more as he groans against her, silently telling her to do it more.

She feels the hot burning sensation in her stomach and moans. “S-Sylus…Sy - I’m close-”

“Come, My Lady.”

It’s like she’s under his spell and comes undone immediately. Her hips rise as her orgasm ripples through her and Sylus follows, rising to keep attached to her clit, desperate to not let go.

Briar lays slack as he licks her clean, gently lowering her feet to the ground once he’s done. The image of him licking his mouth to gather the rest of her is intoxicating, and added to her mental album.

He leans over her and gives a soft kiss on her cheek. “Did My Lady find that enjoyable?”

“Immensely,” She replies, and angles her face to kiss his lips, getting a taste of herself as he opens his mouth. When she pulls away, she pushes his blazer off his shoulders and starts undoing his buttons. “However, your Lady needs more.”

“Does she now?” He chuckles and shrugs off his blazer, his eyes glancing down as she undoes his shirt before looking back at her. His hands go around her waist, his fingers toying with the zipper of her dress before pulling it down. “And what does My Lady need?”

The dress falls from her shoulders, and like silk it slides off her body and onto the floor. Briar continues to unbutton Sylus’ shirt, which he takes off once she’s done, following his blazer to being thrown somewhere in the room. She watches hungrily as he takes off his gloves with his teeth.

God that’s hot.

She lets her hands wander from his shoulders to his chest, pressing down harder as she glides her hands along the skin. When it makes the man above her gasp and his cheeks go red, she grins. Slowly, her hands glide down to his trousers and cup the large tent now formed. Sylus jerks at the touch, and when she squeezes just a little, a small groan escapes his lips.

“She needs to be fucked on this sofa, now.”

Before she can give another squeeze, Sylus gently pats her away and goes towards his trousers. In a flash he’s bare before her and she has no shame in letting her eyes roam over him. His slender neck she likes to leave kisses on, the tone chest she likes to hold closer to her, his arms that always keep her safe and warm -

And his large cock that always drives her crazy.

“Does My Lady approve?” He raises a brow playfully at her, knowing just how hot and bothered he makes her feel.

Briar leans up, her hands trailing on his hip and just going near his cock, teasing him. She hums. “That remains to be seen.”

Sylus chuckles and moves towards her, and leans her body down along the sofa as he manoeuvres above her, her legs caging him in as he settles between. A hand on her hip and the other caressing her cheek, Sylus kisses her sweetly on the lips before leaving small ones along her neck and shoulders, Briar panting all the way.

“Then, let's see.” He whispers against her lips, giving her one last kiss before backing away.

He lifts her legs again and rubs his cock against her wet clit. Briar gasps at the sensation, impatiently waiting as he gets himself wet. It’s not long before he enters her, and she moans loudly as she gets filled up, his cock fitting perfectly inside her.

Sylus groans, his hands gripping her hips as he starts to thrust in and out of her, clearly feeling the same effects as she is. Briar wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to her, her legs wrapping around his waist and clenching her walls tighter around him. He lets out a moan, a sound so electrifying - Briar didn’t know a man could produce such a captivating noise.

“Hmm, My Lady is enjoying this, yes?” Stll, no matter what he still bears that cocky smirk, but it just makes Briar shudder in excitement, as he can back up his words.

She nods frantically, hands clenching on his shoulders. “Yes, yes - more Sylus…please!”

He growls, and her breath gets caught in her throat because - well shit - that was arousing. He grips her thighs and leans forward, placing them so her knees cage her face and his body towering over her. “As you wish, My Lady.” He thrusts deeper, more frantic and Briar can’t help but take it all and moan, gasp and pant at it all.

“God - Sylus - cumming,” She could barely speak - could barely get the words out before another orgasm crashes through her body, only more intense and breathtaking than the first. Her hold on her shoulders weaken, but Sylus doesn’t stop. He keeps going through her high, his thrusts now sloppy, desperate and wild.

“My - Lady,” He moans deeply as he comes undone, hips still as he fills her, He’s panting hard above her, cheeks flushed and sweat on his forehead.

It’s an alluring sight.

He kisses her passionately and Briar holds him close, clinging onto his warmth. Her arms pull him in closer as he rests on her body, his face nuzzling against her neck. They lay there, hands rubbing each other comfortably as they come down from their high.

Then something catches Brair’s eyes, and she giggles. “Your tail is waving around widely,”

He hums against her, the vibration soothing through her body. “Can you blame me, My Lady?”

She chuckles. “You can stop calling me that now, roleplay is now over.”

“Maybe for now, but I am still your Cat Butler,” He leans his head up to look down at her, his eyes warm and smile soft. “I can’t stop addressing you while I’m still like this now, can I?”

“Ok, Ok.” Briar smiles as she rolls her eyes. “If that’s what you want,” She reaches a hand and softly rubs an ear. “I’ll be sad once they’re gone though, you’ve been a very cute kitty.”

He huffs a laugh. “Still calling me cute after that?” But leans into her touch, it’s a welcoming feeling to him now. “You still surprise me after all this time.” Most people would say that with a harsh tone, but Sylus voice is gentle and enduring.

It makes her heart warm.

“Well, it’d be boring if I didn’t.” She jokes. She likes to keep him on his toes, to see that surprise expression when it’s normally cocky. It gives her a sense of pride to break his smug features once in a while. “But we can’t stay like this for long, I still have a mission to complete.”

He laughs, his body shaking that vibrates against her own. Despite all the arousing expressions and noises he’s given her, this heartfelt laugh, with that beautiful smile, will always be her favourite. “See, My Lady? Always surprising.” He caresses her cheek again and she leans into his touch, nuzzling. He kisses her forehead and reaches his hand out, a fluffy blanket quickly landing in his grasp.

He must have used his Evol. Briar thinks as he backs away and covers her bare body with it.

“I’ll complete the rest of the mission for you. Stay here and rest.” His command, while gentle, has a tone telling her not to fight back. It must be the exhaustion because she relents and pulls the blanket tighter around her. Despite it keeping her warm, she misses his heat.

He dresses quickly before walking back towards her, his hands threading though her soft hair before placing a kiss on her cheek. “I'll be back soon and we can go back to my place. Sounds good?”

Briar hums as she nods. “Ok. I miss seeing Luke and Kieran.”

“And they you,”

Placing another kiss on her forehead and making sure she’s wrapped nicely in the blanket, Sylus quietly leaves the room. Briar snuggles into the sofa, ready to sleep off her exhaustion and looking forward to going back to the base.

“Hang on…he still has the collar on!”

#my writing #sylus #sylus writing #love and deepspace #sylus x mc

18 notes · View notes