She/Her - 33 - Does Hypno, Peril, Whump, and other various kink art.
Follow me on DeviantArt & Bluesky!
https://bsky.app/profile/bibiboop69.bsky.social
https://www.deviantart.com/bibiboop69
For those trying to find certain things on my Tumblr blog!
(Also for me, so I won't keep forgetting my tags and making new ones all the damn time... :'D)
Jsyk, I still add tons of tags to my stuff anyways, just to try getting a wider audience. But for thing specially created or posted by me, here's a list.
GENERAL
#BibiBoop69Stuff - Basically everything I will ever post on here.
#Bibi-Rambles - Talking posts, updates, basically anything not actual writing, fictions, etc.
#My-Heroforge-Art - Art I've made using only heroforge.
#Bibi-Comics - All my comics.
#MyHeroforgeComics - Comics made specially with Heroforge.
#Bibi-Art - Mainly drawing art, but basically every art too.
#Bibi-Writing - My Writing.
#Deviantart-Reposts - Stuff I've reblogged from Deviantart.
#Beep-Boop - My kink-related stuff, such as hypnok1nk, etc.
#Dirty-Boop - NSFW and/or extra spicy kink-related stuff.
#Reblogs - Stuff that isn't mine that I reblogged, etc.
#My-Hypno-Meme - Stuff related to hypno-memes. Either ones I've made or others that I've completed.
#EscapadesofEmily - My kinkscapade series where a long lost heiress, her ex-mafia bodyguard, and others get caught up in wild (kinky/fetishy) situations. Basically for anything related to this.
#EoE - 2nd Tag for "Escapades of Emily."
(Will add more, if I introduce more ideas, ocs, etc.)
Character & shipping tags include:
Main Cast
Emily Fairchild
Ace Tucker
AceEmily
Doctor Miria Suzuki
Jason Rios
JasonMiria
Cynthia "Thea" Malis
Dexter Sinclair
Allies
Baron Augustine Fairchild
Ash Hadley
Celine Song
Marcus Song
Nia Adeyemi
Enemies
Heather Sinclair
Chadwick Sinclair
Brock Sinclair
Maximillian Sinclair
Bill Mallory
John Mallory
Linda Mallory
Delilah Mallory
STORY ARCHS
EoE: The Masked Hypnotist Arch
EoE: Miria and the Book of Snakes Arch (? Sure? It's more a mini-series lmao.)
...andddd, when I remember more to add, I will. Lol.
...Omg, I just remembered funny irl hypno-story that happened to me with my partner & hypno/dom.
It was my birthday. We went out with family and friends for dinner. I got gifts and one of them was a balloon.
...Yes. A fucking balloon.
And Y'ALL... idk what happened, but I fixated on that thing wayyyyy too easily. I 110% zoned out. I can't even recall why, I just did. I think because it was so floaty?? Then someone asked if I was okay which snapped me out of it and I played it off as, "Oh yeah, sorry, just tired!"
BUT THEN THEY ADDED, "You looked like you were hypnotized or something."
Y'ALL I WANTED TO DIG UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS AND DIEEEE.
I laughed and kept playing it off because BRUH--what else do I DO????Afterwards, I give a glance over at my baby/dom sitting next to me. He gives me SUCH a knowing, subtly smug look--one only I would know--and like ASKLDSKFJGK--THIS IS YOUR FAULT YA SEXY LITTLE SHIT.
Needless to say, when we were in the car alone, I found it both hilarious yet I was still SO FLUSTERED, so I asked, "BABE.......was it obvious???"
".......It was obvious to me, but no one else would've recognized it."
"Ommmmggggg... TT^TT"
We laughed about it the whole way home. But like... god it was funny and kinda hot. x'D
Bruh, the butt for my last queue post is not that bad, but Tumblr forced me to make it mature??? Idk.
But whatever, here's the original link on DA. Who didn't give a hoot, btws. Cuz... if you go to it, you'll find it's not mature. So yeah. Thanks Tumblr? I guess.
Maybe I'm just too desensitized. Idk. Not gonna argue it but obviously a bit salty about it. Lol.
This was meant to be a preview for "The Masked Hypnotist" comic I'm working on over on DA. Thought... something else might be more hypnotic to people than the pocketwatch.... Can't imagine what that could be though. 👀 Nope. Not at all. Complete mystery.
The guardian nagini gazed over her mortal prey. A young man with deep russet skin and darker, earthy soil-colored hair dangling in her coiled embrace. Felt this man built of pure sinew and muscle lifelessly limp in her loosen hold. Yet not truly so. Watching how his soft lips parted to give a distant, unconscious moan.
Miria had stopped squeezing soon as he passed out, and not a moment later. Hanging him curiously right in her view, the man’s head went dangling backwards, head practically upside down. Making his thick curls fall away and reveal more of his face. A very handsome face indeed. How glad Miria was she hadn’t killed him. Her golden tail tip affectionately stroking his cheek, brushing away more curly bangs.
Had she ever intended to kill him though? Something about his face… The way he called her name. It pulled at Miria’s heartstrings, and yet... she didn’t know who he was. Then again, Miria didn’t know who she was either. Having woken up into existence mere hours ago, knowing only her name, and spending most of it making a proper lair. A dent fit for a snake.
This man was unfamiliar, potentially dangerous. But he knew her. He was calling out her name before. Even so, out of pure instinct, Miria decided to suppress him first. Just in case he was a threat. A foe, not a friend. He had seemed genuinely worried. But had had also reacted furiously to her slightest movement.
No. Despite being a mere human, even men could still be dangerous. Yet this young man was too valuable to kill, to make a feast of. He knew things. Namely her... well, her name. Which was the only thing Miria knew about herself. For now, he would live.
Still... despite not recognizing him, why did looking at him stir Miria’s heart? The idea of eating him, hurting him, fill her with an odd guilt? She had right to hunt what had intruded on her territory. To whatever could be a threat her den. Didn’t she?
Miria’s scaly tail brushed through the mortal man’s soft hair, trying to make sense of her confusing, newly born mind. Lost in these thoughts. Until she heard the young man give a faint groan. Watching how his thick brows knot together with unconscious discomfort. He sounded almost... upset? Longing? The pained noise confused the nagini. Oddly tugged another heartstring.
“Miri…? ” He mumbled unconsciously.
Miria felt tense. The silts of her eyes dialing to sharp, knife’s edge slivers. Almost worried her muscly coils would instinctively crush the poor mortal again. Thankfully, they didn’t.
That name. Such a simple, unexpected nickname. Why did it make her head hurt slightly? Her heart aching faintly? Suddenly feel this immense, painful relief she didn’t kill him now.
Pausing, waiting, Miria wondered if he’d speak more in his sleep. She hoped to hear that strangely unfamiliar yet familiar pet-name. To find answers in it. Alas, the beautiful boy only sighed again and said no more. No matter how long she waited. He remained unconscious.
“…Curiousss.” Miria hummed to herself, feeling the gentle hiss flickering her tongue.
In this moment, the nagini decided to take him back to her nesting spot. Not as prey, perhaps, but… pet. Yes. That seemed fitting, for now. For with that single word, that little name, Miria no longer could bear the idea of killing him, much less eating him. So she’d keep him instead.
Carefully, trying not to rouse him, Miria twirled her thick coils around. Making the limp stranger lie down in them, on the ground, like a tight sleeping bag. Loosening them significantly to ease the pressure on him and allow herself easier movement. Then slithered deeper into her lair of hard, clinky rocks and odd, unknown things.
Truly it was a strange place she had for a lair. Hardly had anything comfortable to make into a nest! But Miria made do. At first, she tried ripping apart the strange, wheeled seats that smelled like long dead cows. With disastrous results… But then, luckily, she found an incredibly white room that smelled usually sour and clean all at once. (An odd word “Sterile” came to mind.) In there were many beds, pillows, and sheets to utilize. Soft mounds and plush bedding to steal away and bring back to make her nest properly comfortable.
How stranger Miria’s mind was though. At times, it felt like random knowledge was being gifted to her. She knew of books yet couldn’t explain the clicking, glowing box on the table. Beds were obvious, but then what were those ugly wheeled chairs? They seemed comfortable in theory. But she couldn’t make actual use of them, even after tearing off the cushion parts.
She felt... incomplete. Unfinished. She was a naga. That was a core knowledge she knew. But her memories... they were blank. Broken. Something inside her wasn’t in place. But what?
A low, trembling groan broke Miria from these thoughts. She glanced back, watching her mortal beginning to softly stir in her thick, scaled hold. Good. He’d wake up soon.
Weirdly, the thought of his awakening prompted the nagini to fuss with the pillows and blankets. Trying to make it more comfortable. She reasoned it because she’d be rough with him enough already. She wanted their remaining interactions to be more comfortable. Perhaps even... pleasant, playful even, should be willing.
This mortal was incredibly cute, after all. Built to peak physical perfection on top of being handsome. If not a meal, or a pet, there were… other ways she could spend time with him. Should he be so persuaded despite her roughness with him. For some reason, the idea of it felt welcoming. It felt… comfortingly familiar.
Out of the corner of her venomous green gaze, Miria noticed the man finally awakening. Groggily struggling to lift his head and make his eyes open, to take in his trapped position. Revealing such a beautiful color. Golden like sunlight. Warm like honey.
Miria felt her breath halt in wonder.
A sacred color. Only the strongest Naga’s were gold. They were the closest to the divinity of the Gods. A human with these eyes… Such a divine significance. The nagini was right to hesitate, to spare him. He wasn’t meant to become a mere pet, much less a foolish meal! She understood now. He was meant to be more. That’s why he felt so important to her.
“Ahhh… He’s awake.” She heard herself muse, hissing pleasantly. Teasingly.
With a quick flick of the tail, Miria’s coils unwounded. Spinning out like a dropped yarn ball and dropping the human in front of her. Not released, but certainly less bounded up now. As she swiftly slithered in closer, letting her fangs bear fiercely in a grin. Tongue flickering, tasting his scent. He smelled salty, like dry sweat, yet also a sweet, woodsy musk she couldn't quite place.
“Well, well, well~” She hummed pleasantly, a claw hovering under his chin, beckoning him to meet her bright, intent emerald gaze, “Who do we have here?”
Because, though Miria knew he was meant for greater intentions... He was far too cute not to tease. Especially given, despite how she nearly smothered him to death, this man miraculously didn’t look afraid or even enraged. Rather, Miria watched this young mortal’s jaw drop with a wide-eyed expression of dumbfounded wonder. Perhaps even attraction, given how flushed his entire face became. An expression that, admittedly, flattered the powerful guardian nagini.
“M...M-Miri...? ” The mortal managed to get out. Scarcely above a whisper.
Miria’s smile grew. Bearing her long, gleaming fangs with flattered pride. That little pet-name buzzed pleasantly in her mind. Feeling good, right even. Such a clever mortal. It knew obvious greatness and beauty when it was before him.
Perhaps he wouldn’t be so opposed to having some “fun” with her after all...
Jason didn’t usually do this. He didn’t invade Miria’s laboratory. Especially when she specifically asks to be left alone. But tonight was different. Something was wrong.
Doctor Miria Suzuki was a collection of many rare and powerful objects. Items unheard of by the public, ranging from scientific works of genius to magical, enchanted items.
Because, apparently, magic was real.
Jason still couldn’t wrap his brain around it. Miria tried to explain it once, and the jist of what the street boxer understood is that magic hides magic, which is why no one knows about magic’s existence. Which made as much sense as... magic could make.
Honestly, Jason Rios tried not to think about it. The only point of it coming to a worry came when those magical artifacts had questionable abilities. Dangerous abilities. Miria didn’t even risk testing those ones. Keeping locked away more so for everyone’s safety rather than collecting. But, thanks to this, the Doctor became quite a surprising expert in avoiding cursed relics or dangerous gadgets that mankind shouldn’t ever know of.
Jason trusted Miria’s intelligence. She was incredibly capable and could handle herself easily. It was one the biggest draws of why he was so into her.
Then came that damn book: The Book of Snakes.
Jason knew it was wrong the moment Miria held it. She was quieter, more secretive, less careful that day. Even excusing her favorite test subject with irritable haste, at some point. Making excused he knew she could do better with. Still, he tried to ignore it, insisted to himself he was overthinking it. Miria knew this magic-shit better than he did, right?
But then she wasn’t texting back.
Which would’ve been fine... if it weren’t Miria.
Doctor Suzuki was always prompt with her responses. She kept her phone on her like it was a lifeline. How that woman answered texts and emails so efficiently everyday was a miracle Jason would never figure out. But her routine had always been ridged. She woke up on time and went to bed on time. (Save, of course, those times when they were... indisposed together.) From this, he also knew, by this point, when to text her.
Of course, then Jason tried to chalk it all up to him being impatient—or worse needy. What is he, a bad match on Tindr, texting her constantly? Miria was allowed to not answer immediately. Maybe her phone died, for once, or she was busy with someone. Anything more reasonable could’ve been the answer.
Jason knew all this. Went through all this in his mind over and over. But that damn book still wouldn’t leave his mind. A suspicious, coiling feeling weighted heavily in his gut, not unlike that of a snake. Until he saw her tonight, he wouldn’t be settled. It was worth the risk of her possible annoyance.
Doctor Miria Suzuki owned the entirety of this apartment complex. A towering, modern chic building that acted as a cover. It was, secretly, mostly a massive laboratory. The exception to this being her own actual high-rise apartment, and Jason’s apartment right below her own.
He couldn’t quite remember what led to her straight up giving him a place to live. Only that it led to him jokingly calling her his “Sugar Mama” and her liking it A LOT more than he excepted. Turning the tables on him immediately, calling him a “Sugar Baby”—a pet-name he would vehemently pretend to hate, until the day he dies.
Though... it wasn’t without perks. Now she occasionally buys him things too.
But even with his own history of estranged wealth, Jason was still always amazed by how advanced this place was. It basically was one gigantic, sci-fi manor with a bunch of secret passages and way too many elevators. One, in particular, always led directly to the basement, the main heart of the
lab. The one in his own room.
It felt a little guilt-ridden, using the emergency passcode to bypass the lock system to get down there. But Jason argued this WAS an emergency, until provided otherwise. Why else would Miria have given him the code in the first place?
CODE ACCEPTED. JASON RIOS, PLEASE ENTER.
An automated voice echoed. Prompting Jason to enter the sleek, round glass elevator and press the button for the ground floor. Feeling how near immediate it dropped, soon as the doors sealed shut, like a rock plopping into the ocean. The sudden sensation made his stomach flip. As his head thudded back against the walls with a long sigh.
“I just need to see if she was okay.” Jason though pensively, looking at his uneasy reflection, “If she gets mad, fine, I’ll apologize. If I look stupid, whatever. But then I’ll know she’s safe.”
The metal exterior rushed around him in seconds. Then, with a loud BING, the door slid open. Revealing the center laboratory drenched in shadows. A sight that instantly set Jason on edge, already feeling himself falling into a wary, ready-to-fight stance.
The lights were never off. Even when they slept, they stayed on overnight.
“Miria?” Jason dared to call out, warily stepping off the elevator, “...BIBI, turn on lights.”
AS YOU WISH, JASON.
BIBI was the name of Miria’s AI. It usually only responded to her but made exceptions for Jason requests. Especially the simplest one of turning on lights. Thankfully, they were still online, as the lights instantly flooded the lab. Yet the sight made Jason abandon all caution.
Papers strewn about, knocked over desk, discard books, and all other variations of chaos stretched across the laboratory. Even some of the lights were flickering weakly, as if whacked out of line or damaged. It looked like something massive had torn through here. Worse of all, the Doctor was nowhere to be seen.
“Miria?!” Jason cried out, immediately racing inside and looking around, “Miria, where are you?! Are you here!? Miria, say something! Say anything! Tell me you’re okay!”
No response. The lab stayed eerily silent. Jason gritted his teeth.
“BIBI, what happened!?” He then asked, looking to the ceiling, “Where’s Doctor Suzuki? Is she okay?!”
SEARCHING FOR DOCTOR SUZUKI. SCANNING CURRENT LOCATION.
Unbeknownst to Jason, so fixated on listening to BIBI and discovering Miria’s whereabouts, a vast, moving mound slipped behind him unnoticed. Though he caught the unsettling noise, the soft slither. The warning.
Instantly tensing up, Jason fell back on one leg, fists at the ready towards the sound.
“HEY! Who’s there!?” He exclaimed, “Come out!”
It couldn’t have been Miria, she would’ve answered. No, something else was here. Something big. Something that likely caused this mess and Miria to not answer…
Jason felt his blood bubble with rage. If they hurt her, or worse, he’d—
DOCTOR SUZUKI IS HERE. LIFE SIGNS ARE ACTIVE.
That made Jason falter. Anger slipping to confusion.
“Wait, what?! Where?” He yelled in disbelief, “BIBI, where in here is she?!”
DOCTOR SUZUKI IS BEHIND YOU.
The blood hot with rage became ice with fear. Shoulders tense, golden eyes widening in shock. Jason had no idea when or how they did. But all at once, he felt them. Whatever it was, he felt their intimating, massive presence behind him. As if it had taken a mere second to reach him. Its slithering becoming a low, threatening hiss.
It didn’t make sense. Jason heard nothing and it was huge! It should’ve made some sound!
Shouldn’t have it?
But seconds of mercy were all Jason had been blessed with. Right before a tight, slick muscle of scales rapidly looped at his ankles and yanked back. Sending him face first to the ground with a yell. Only to find himself swiftly enwrapped in thick, giant snake coils before he could. Softening his fall significantly yet trapping him entirely from foot to neck with shocking, inhuman speed.
“BI—MmnMMF!? ”
Jason tried to scream, call for help from the Lab’s AI. But the tip of a tail smacked harshly round his mouth before he could, turning his shouting to muffled outcries. Gagging him thoroughly, keeping his mouth sealed. Though he struggled, and was, by no means, a weak man, with his arms uselessly pinned down to his side, it was impossible to break free now. Even so, Jason wasn’t about to face this gigantic snake without one. He struggled, he wormed, he screams against the thick muscle of scales. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth bone tight.
Then the coils tighten. Aligning mercilessly together like a pushed down string-coil, leaving no room for movement. The insurmountable weight, the sheer alone pressure, had Jason gasping for air. An action almost impossible with the tail rung tight round his mouth. His eyes bulged. His chest and lungs burned. His movements faltered, becoming weaker, and his head was already spinning. Dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
It was trying to kill him. Jason realized, with growing horror, if he didn’t get out of this, he’d die. Miria might die. Where was she? BIBI said she was alive and somewhere behind him, right? He couldn’t die! Not like this! He had to fight back! He had to find and help Miria!
Wiggling, willing himself to fight through the pain, Jason tried one last, desperate attempt to get the tail off his mouth. To, at least, pry his mouth open and bite it. But even that was useless. He couldn’t even move his lips. He was becoming too weak. Even those muffled, desperate sounds were fading. Eyelids flickering, oxygen leaving him faster and faster.
Then the coil constricted again. Tighter. Suffocating him in weight and heat, making his once powerful body swelter. Choking him literally, as the one looped around his neck squeezed. Jason gagged, eyes rolling back hard, squeezing shut as unexpected feelings boiled within him. One of pain, another he couldn’t... possibly explain. Was the lack of oxygen making him loopy? Or did this feel... weirdly good?
Jason wanted to bitterly laugh, had he not been smothered and oxygen starved. How stupid. How fucking ironic. He was being literally squeezed to death, and it was awakening a newfound kink? He was disgusted with himself. But even so, he couldn’t resist the strange euphoria swelling in his brain. The rush of unexpected pleasure. Maybe it popped. Maybe this thing literally squeezed his brain out. He had no idea. He could barely think anymore and everything ached, both bad and good.
Feeling the coils literally squeezing the very fight out of him, Jason moaned helplessly against his tail-made gag. This wasn’t the time for getting his damn rocks off! He still needed to... find... Miri...
But though the missing Doctor and her safety were his last fading thoughts, they faded all the same. Stars danced in his eyes, his head was absolutely spinning, and the coils wouldn’t release him. Intending to strangle him for good this time. As the world slowly went dark, Jason’s eyes rolled back into darkness. Letting himself go limp with remorseful, powerless defeat as everything faded away.
“Miri... I’m so... sorry...”
Air. Sweet, beautiful, glorious air. That was what Jason felt filling inside him. Deliciously expanding his lungs as he faintly gasped, felt himself hazily wheezing for it. As the sudden onslaught of oxygen awakened him. His body desperately trying to refill his poor, aching self with it. Everything feeling sore, heavy, and weak. Like some painful weighted blanket that Jason had kept on top of himself for too long. He couldn’t even force his eyes open. It felt as if they were sealed closed, so exhausted as they were.
But vaguely Jason felt a frail hope. Because he wasn’t dead. At least, not yet. A fate he still could meet, he realized. For the snake’s tail was still all around him. Encasing him in an endless coil of pure muscle without any hint of letting him go. Only in mercifully loosening his hold enough to let him breath.
Slowly, bit by bit, Jason felt himself being dragged. Taken away somewhere deeper into the lab, by the sound of moving metal furniture and scattered, cluttering debris shifting beneath his predator’s movements.
How long was he out? Seconds? Hours? He hadn’t a clue anymore. Where was this thing taking him? Did it take Miria too? These and more were questions filling Jason’s mind. But the largest question of them all was why was he still alive?
That and where his Doctor was, of course.
“Don’t tell me snakes play with their food...” He mentally groaned, half-realizing an actual shaky groan slipped pass his parted lips.
Wait... His lips. He could move them. The snake had removed it’s tail from his mouth!
But, as tempting as Jason wanted to immediately scream for BIBI’s assistance, he restrained the impulsive urge. One, he may not be in the lab anymore, and Two, Jason really, really liked breathing again. If he gave himself away too soon, this snake was only going to shut him up again. Worse case, it’d just decide to kill him anyway. He had to give himself time not only breath and regain his strength but survey his surroundings.
Finding it a genuine struggle, any resolve Jason regain all went into simply opening his eyes. Forcing them to pry open despite feeling disoriented as hell. As if he could just fall back asleep. But, teeth gritting, biting his tongue as a pain focus, Jason demanded them to open.
The sight confused him momentarily. But, then again, Jason knew he was still getting his bearings. A sea of shimmering emerald green and golden scales reflected dancing lights. Though the snake coils were loose now, it still went down to his feet and kept his arms decidedly pinned. Watching how it shifted and slithered faintly with each movement of long, continuous muscle. Almost enrapturing him with their silky, shimmering colors.
It might’ve been beautiful to Jason... had it not tried to murder him.
“Where is it going?” He couldn’t help wondering, “Rather where are we going?”
Except, just when Jason tried to glance around and see if he was still in Miria’s lab, a voice broke into his train of thought. A voice that made him feel cold again with sudden shock.
As if on cue, the coils finally unwounded—at least around Jason feet and legs they did. Lifting and twirling him around in rapid succession, like a mere ragdoll being flung about, Jason soon found himself sitting on the floor. Legs spread out, swaying almost comically with a nauseated groan. With the sheer dizziness of motion not unlike being vaulted around a tilt-a-whirl without a safety bar. But though he was free to sit, his arms were kept bounded. The tail’s tip heavily wrapped around his shoulder blades like a fat, threatening scarf.
Blinking hard, roughly, Jason fought to pull himself together. His golden eyes focusing in on the gigantic feminine form leaning intently over him. Of Miria, no longer human, but guardian naga, leaning over him. Beautiful, radiant, and absolutely terrifyingly hot.
“Well, well, well~” She hummed, letting her fork tongue taste the air inches from Jason’s face. Her wide grin revealing endless rows of sharp teeth, “Who do we have here?”
Oh, this definitely was awakening more in Jason. That was for damn sure.
Especially when, all of a sudden, despite his damn peril, his jaw went dumbfoundedly slack and his cheek felt burningly hot. His whole stupid body did, and it could not be blamed on being bound up in her coils anymore.
“M...M-Miri...? ” He managed to get out dumbly. Scarcely coming out even as a whisper.
Back when I did this series(?) (arch?), I literally started as a random inspiration... and then QUICKLY learned how popular hot, dommy-mommy snake woman were on Deviantart. Lmaooo.
So... I actually really like this one. but I has like... 1 favorite. Most of time I got scammers. The one that went "omg i love this this and this about your writing hey btws wanna commission me to make it a comic despite having no actual examples in my gallery?!?" ...and then they'd get blocked a day later. And suck cuz... idk, I was kinda proud of how I wrote this one?? Idk. It always made me sad. *le sigh*
...I might just make this one comic, outta spite, ngl. lol.
Anywhos. Enjoy a dramatic AceEmily oneshot. Around when Ace first began being Emily's bodyguard, and her realizing how dangerous her life was about to become. :'D
~*~
Protector
The smile dropped.
“Move.” Ace ordered suddenly.
“What—?” Emily questioned, blinking with bewilderment.
“MOVE!” He screamed.
It all happened so fast. That was how that cliché went, didn’t it? But, for Emily, it really was so fast. Too fast to process until the gunshot boomed around her. Leaving behind such a horrid shrieking sound in her poor ears.
Ace had already got her. In that scream, his warning, he was instantly upon her. One single arm strongly seized round her, pressing her so tightly to himself it began to hurt. The other Emily couldn’t see. Not at first with her face buried into his clavicle and neck curve. But she heard that loud moving click. Heard his gunshot right in front of her.
One. Two. Three. All in rapid succession. Her world was ringing. Blood pumped hotly in her ears. Yet her body seized, frozen in place from the shock. Making her feel so cold. Numb.
She couldn’t move. She was scared that she couldn’t move. She wanted to run but she couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? What was happening? Was this shock? Why was Ace shooting—something? Someone?
Why was this happening?
For what felt like too long, Emily could only stare up at Ace. Unable to do anything else but stare. To take in his unfamiliar, hardened face. The coldness in those eyes. The fury in every tight contortion of his enraged expression. The eerie focus in his eyes, despite it all.
He acted so fast that Emily knew, in that instant, this wasn’t new to him.
Emily started to look. Her head gained enough willpower to turn in the direction he aimed. She saw a rushing motion. A shadowed blur of a figure. Someone was running away. Oh my God... Was that blood—?
“—Get up!” Ace barked
Before Emily could dumbly ask ‘what’ again, she found herself giving a startled shriek instead. Funny, how him hauling her ass up over his shoulder made her cry out. Yet him shooting a gun had left her utterly speechless.
Her braid whirled round in her face as Ace ran, carrying her without thought except to get her out. It wasn’t something whimsical or fictional like a bridal carry. It was frantic, immediate, in the moment decision. He needed to get her out, and he needed to get her out now.
“Hitman in the garden—There’s a fuckin’ hitman in the garden! Where the FUCK are you assholes?!” Ace screamed angrily, free hand pressing down on his ear. The one with the earpiece. Emily remembered it from before. Heard distant shouting voices coming from it.
The heiress looked back, heart thundering like a panicked, trapped bird. Eyes darting around for the shooter. Her would-be assassin. Looking around wildly, wondering if she’d even be able to see him. Ace saw something—someone—before she even did. If she hadn’t... Oh God, if he hadn’t been there...
Grandpa was right. People really did want her dead.
‘Calm. Stay calm.’ Emily tried desperately to will herself with whatever dwindling courage wasn’t swallowed up by panic. She wasn’t dead. But she had to look out for them. Had to—
“ACE!” She shrieked, pointing wildly at the roof. Toward whom she saw.
The shadow figured, clear in daylight, cloaked entirely in black. The same person? A different one? It didn’t matter; it was trying to aim and shoot—
Another gunshot. This one made Emily’s right ear ringing so badly it hurt. Her head spinning wildly, stomach heaving into her throat. As Ace spun around and shot up without hesitation. Emily heard an agonizing scream above. Managed to look up enough to see the body on the roof drop. Falling down, down, down into a garden bush with dead weight.
Did she just... help him kill a man?
Emily cursed down the stupid, sudden wave of guilt. That instant sympathy. He was going to kill them! Still, the guilt didn’t go away within her anger and confusion. Nor did the intense, abrupt nausea now swirling in her stomach.
Then Emily was on the ground. Heaved up and off his shoulder, Ace set her down on the ground. Somewhere against a wall yet kept them both hidden behind a massive flowering bush. She notes a doorway not too far off and half wonders why they didn’t just run there. While the other half wondered why she was freezingly numb. Shouldn’t she be hot? Her hands felt clammy with sweat.
Everything was sweating. So why was she so cold?
Ace kneels next to her, propped up on one knee. Rapidly drawing out an empty case of bullet whilst simultaneously grabbing a new set and jamming into his semi-automatic pistol. But he doesn’t shoot. Not yet. Rather, with his free arm, he crossed it back over her. Trying to... shield her? Keep her back? Emily couldn’t tell. It was hard to think. Her head was spinning like a top about to teeter over.
Why was she so lightheaded? It must’ve been from being carried and thrown about before. Yes, that made sense. If she just sits for a second and catches her breath, she’ll be fine.
She’ll be fine.
“You okay?”
“H-Huh?” Emily startled, as if woken. Starting towards Ace dazedly. Finding herself looking into those ice blue eyes. Surprised to see him looking... concerned?
‘He not what I expected...’ Emily found herself oddly thinking. Which seemed... strange. Maybe because she couldn’t understand why he looked concerned. She was fine. She felt shaky and dizzy, sure, but she was fine.
“Y... yes, I’m...” She trailed off, pausing with uncertainty. Her tongue felt numb. Swollen in her mouth like cotton and impossible to talk, “...I’m...”
Everything tunneled. Then blacked out. Yet the world still whirled around her. Falling, falling, falling. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as every ounce of strength drained from her body. She could barely feel anything. Yet somehow still felt herself falling into this nothing. This emptiness. Someone yelled, panicked. How she should likely be feeling. But she only felt... weirdly distant. Airy and weak.
Emily distantly expected to hit the prickly grass, or maybe the hard mulch around the bush. But she didn’t. Rather it was... warm, oddly. Kind of bumpy but in a soft way. Feeling familiar sensations when she did. The soft, starchy cotton against a collarbone. The smell... That rich, smoky, petrichor cologne. The one he was teasing her about enjoying.
‘Ace...’ She realized vaguely. Her last feeling was one of dull, yet immense relief.
Then she was gone.
“...Fuck!” Ace cursed between gritted teeth.
Emily had fainted. Now lying unconscious in his one arm, her still face buried into his neckline. Trying to keep her limp body propped up in this one solitary hold. Just in case he still needed to fire. Thankfully, Princess was practically skin and bone. She weighed almost nothing. Like some hollow-boned, little bird.
This was not what he needed right now.
Adjusting himself and her, Ace tried to carefully move them closer to the wall. Trying to give them more cover and hide them further, pass the camelia bush. Emily practically sat in his lap now, his one knee bent while the other stayed propped, ready to kick off into a run at any given notice. Ideally, if he had to, this new position would allow him to scoop her up and make a run for it.
Meanwhile, one hand adjusted his grip on his pistol. While the other tried to keep her upright against him. He cursed under his breath again.
Fuck, this was so not what they needed right now.
“Ace! What happened?!” Rex’s voice yelled through his earpiece, alarm evident in his tone, “Johnny said he saw Emily fall over! Was she shot!?”
The mafia guard hissed out a frustrated groan. Stuck between having to keep Emily upright, in one grip, keep the gun in the other, and now having to press the damn earpiece to talk to this panicking idiot.
He glanced between the two. Emily then the gun. Emily then the gun. Contemplating.
“Ace! Answer! ACE!”
Fuck.
Careful not to accidentally blow his damn brains out, Ace choose the gun hand, stretching his thumb back to poke the earpiece. Adjusting Emily gently in his grip, so she wouldn’t fall.
“No, she fine.” Ace replied briskly, “She’s fainted, but she’s fine. I got some deadweight to carry now, though, so I need some cover. How many assassins do we have?”
A relieved sigh came from Ace’s reassurance, before Rex replied.
“In total or near you?”
“Near me.”
“Two. One that ran off after you shot up. He’s within our range. Another was on the roof, but he disappeared.” Rex answered, “We can’t see him anymore from our angle. Can you?”
“I did.” Ace told him, unable to help the smug smirk curling on his lips, “Already shot him. ‘Pretty sure he’s dead in a rose bush but didn’t exactly have time to check.”
Rex snorted at that, “Good.” After a small pause, he then added, “...I see a doorway near you. Eastward. You should be able to make it, and I’ll cover you, but go now.”
“Got it.”
Then, in one fluid, swift motion, Ace holstered the gun, hauled Emily into his arms, and blotted for the door. Such a short distance away. But for anyone armed, they didn’t need long. Ace heard thundering gunshots above but nothing cutting close. He imagined Rex was trying to scare off any attempts. Perhaps fool the assassins into believing someone else was trying to shoot him already. Maybe even actually firing at one of the bastards.
It didn’t matter. Either way, it helped.
With a backward slam of his shoulder, Ace nearly brought the door down to open it. Then kicked it shut behind him. They were inside. They had shelter.
Ace recognized the room enough to know where to go next. Where to start heading deeper into the massive manor. His plan was to head to Baron Fairchild’s study. Knowing the unassuming office was secretly fortified beyond measure. Those bullet-proof windows alone were enough to protect her.
He didn’t have time to check over Emily. To pause and see if she had gotten hurt in his mad dash. But he consciously continued to adjust and move her unconscious form so that no stray limbs would hit anything. Deliberately holding her tightly to himself. As if she could be softly curled up into his arms and be kept entirely protected from this awful fucking world.
Time went in a blur. Ace had gotten to the office. Finally feeling the weight of exhaustion over him when the relief sank into his sore, aching frame. When he could lie Emily down on Fairchild’s ridiculously expensive-looking chaise lounge. Careful and slow in his movements, now that he had time to do so. Take care to prop up her head so she could breathe easier.
The bodyguard glanced over Emily’s slumbering body. Nothing seemed out of place. No sight of blood or evident bruises. Sometimes, he tucked back a blonde strand to check her face, or gently lifted her arm, wondering if it had hit a stray doorway or had he imagined it. But, to his relief, he found nothing.
She was safe. She would be okay.
Ace felt another wave of greater relief nearly overcome him. But shook it off to prioritize checking over the door. Locking it and then giving the room a perimeter check. Shutting curtains, calling Rex and then the Baron. Letting them know that Emily was safe—yes, he checked her. Yes, she only fainted from shock, nothing else. Yes, obviously he’d stay with her until they cleared everything.
Then, all Ace could do was wait.
...
He hated waiting.
Sighing, Ace plopped himself on one of the leather chesterfield chairs. Legs crossing, elbow propped on the armchair, while his cheek leaned heavily on the palm of a curled fist. Which would’ve seemed too casually impatient for someone who, mere minutes ago, just gunned down people. To Ace, it was a Tuesday.
Save the only difference is that, instead of guarding his usual wealthy “businessman” with an unscrupulous reputation, or charges that totally weren’t money babies, it was Emily. Some long, lost granddaughter completely naïve and unfamiliar to this crazy lifestyle.
‘Well... until today.’ Ace added mentally.
The young woman lied there on the lounge motionless. Save for the soft breathing making her slender body rise and fall. Ace half wonders if she should be sleeping this long. People who fainted didn’t usually stay unconscious very long. He knew from experience. (And wasn’t at liberty to admit which “businessmen” or “charges” had, hypothetically, fainted. Because he liked keeping all his fingers.)
But Emily was still out.
The bodyguard bit his lower lip. Dragging his massive chair unceremoniously behind him, Ace scooted closer to her. Gently, carefully, he takes her wrist to check her pulse. Counting the beats in time.
Normal. Slow but normal. Good. Also, he clearly saw her breathing before. He made sure to have her head propped up. So, no CPR needed, thankfully. That probably wasn’t going to go well with the old man, even if was necessary.
The back of his hand then pressed to her forehead. Checking her temperature. She wasn’t nearly as cold or clammy as before. Rather she was steadily getting much warmer. Cheeks flushed and vivid, compared to how deathly pale he remembered her becoming. Right before she clonked out. He knew the signs, at this point. He really hoped that wasn’t the case when he asked if she was okay.
But... here we are.
Sighing, Ace leaned back in his seat, head thudding heavily back. He let himself just stare at her.
Taking her in.
Light ash blonde hair barely contrasted against her equally pale, freckled skin. Flushed with rosy, cool hues. With black eyeliner, mascara, and smoky, bright pink eyeshadow now smudged from the chaos beforehand.
Her outfit was what Ace would call “nerdy alternative.” (Maybe emo? Was that even a thing anymore?) She was wearing a shoulder-less turtleneck with checkerboard pattern and long sleeves ending as fingerless gloves. The bottom part was a short denim skirt and thigh-high, sleek black, combat boots.
...Was it weird he was staring at her this intensely?
Fuck, wait, this was weird.
Groaning, Ace ignored his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment. Yet quickly looked at anything else in the room. The built-in, mahogany bookcase taking up about three walls of this room. The velvet, emerald curtains spanning from ceiling to floor. The world globe that hid a case of fine aged whiskey and glasses.
‘That sounds like a great idea.’
With that thought, Ace quickly hopped up and sauntered over towards it. Surely the boss wasn’t going to notice one shot missing, right? Because, for some reason, he really needed it right now. This damn princess was making him nervous. Him, nervous.
He teased her because it was fun. She really was like some sheltered, long-lost little princess. But... he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t weird for him. Emily wasn’t like his usual watches. She was a normie; someone clueless to this lifestyle. Yet, by stroke of luck—both good and bad—here she was. Long lost granddaughter of Baron Augustine Fairchild. The sole, rightful heir to his decade’s worth of wealth and prestige.
She was also, admittedly, cute. Very cute. Which was part of what made teasing her fun.
But...
Ace, who had just poured himself far too big of a glass of priceless whiskey, downed his shot. Letting the bitter, tingling chill race down from the tip of his spine down his back. As he loudly cleared his throat and smacked the cup down dead-center in the globe’s make-shift, revealed table. Before light blue eyes couldn’t help looking back at his ward. His newest acquisition. His growing problem. His unfamiliar concern.
This was not going to be nearly as easy he thought.
Emily’s body felt too heavy. As if it longed to keep sleeping, to stay under this deep, deep weighted blanket of slumber. Yet, despite it, her consciousness began to return. The awareness of being somewhere. A room. A new place.
She felt herself lying comfortably on a long, soft place. Feeling the fine, thick fabric of old pillows and an antique couch. The smell of aged old times and spicy cigar smoke waffled into her nose. It smelled like Grandpa. It smelled safe.
‘Where... am I?’ Emily wondered distantly.
Stirring groggily, head rocking softly, Emily’s eyelids squeezed, tightened, then sluggishly fluttered open. Slowly, she glanced around the room and took it in. It was Grandpa’s office. No wonder it smelled like him.
Sleepily, half-consciously, Emily tried to remember how she got her. What was the last thing she remembered. As her fingers rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake up more.
“You’re awake.” A masculine voice said.
Startled upright, Emily jumped at the voice. Now sitting up, now more awake. As she turned towards the voice with hands over heart. Taking in Ace’s scarred yet still handsome features in the dim room. Lit only by one solitary light. The green hooded one on the desk. Those soft blue eyes glinting against that roguish half-smile. The careless way he was leaning back against Grandpa’s desk and held an empty crystal glass in one gloved hand.
Then the memories finally returned.
The shooting guns, the rushing around, the sheer panic. She remembered. The shock had gotten to her. She had fainted hadn’t she? Now she was here.
“...Ace.” Emily spoke quietly, shoulder dropping from shock to relief.
Has a 110% consentual hypnok1nk relationship with my OCs, femdom-ing and subby men.
Enjoy~
~*~
Candlelight
Jason loved this part.
The part where his mind entirely lets go.
The part where he surrenders all pretense and his mind just drifts. Turns off. No thoughts left. Nothing left behind but a passive, pleasant numbness in his brain. A pleasure vaguely pulsing, hardening his member.
Golden eyes stare vacantly at the candles flame. Perfectly glimmering their rare radiance in its soft, sensual light. As it dances to and fro from a seemingly invisible wind. His jaw slacked, head held only in place by slender finger.
Vaguely a sense, a memory, flickers, like the flame. Her hand isn’t needed. Not really. He would stay transfixed on it regardless. But the act of it, the control, the literal hold it had on him. Keeping him in his place. Under her control, with little resistance to fight him. Oh, how the pleasure grew tenfold. Memories becoming mere kindling for his massive flame of need. Flickers being thrown into the fire as quickly as they were forgotten again. Leaving his head deliciously warm and empty once more.
When he had memories of what and when this occurred, Jason remembered planning to be a brat. To rebel against Miria’s surprising “experiment” of the evening.
“A candle?” He snorted.
“What?” She had mused, that sly glint he loved noticing already in her eyes, “Not all my experiments have to be complicated. Plus, I believe we’ll both find this quiet... enlightening.”
“Heh. Funny.” He smirked.
Oh, how he wanted to resist. To play the game and pretend he didn’t believe it was going to work. That he could “easily” fight back, keep from being hypnotized. From falling into her trance... Only to fail and fall twice and hard. Twice as deep.
Instead, Jason found himself genuinely surprised by how entrancing the candles soft, tiny flickers could be. The way they wave and bend in subtle, slow ways. As if beckoning him to watch. To stare and follow its mysterious, secretive dance.
It was so... relaxing. So calming, so easy to let go. To let the flame coax his mind to relax. To ease back, loosen his tired muscles, and relax deep. So limp and deep...
He had immediately forgotten to fight back. For he had found, this time, there was a greater pleasure in letting go. Of giving in entirely and surrendering without a single hint of hesitation.
And that, had made Jason gone deeper than he ever had before.
“You’re doing so well for me, Jason” Miria’s voice hummed, tickling Jason’s ear. Her lips scarcely brushing its lobe. As she sat there comfortably in his lap.
Jason absentmindedly hummed back. A distant, muted noise, barely audible. Feeling a sense of bliss in those words, despite not having a single thought about them. Still, he continued to stare at the flame.
Miria breathlessly laughed, “You’re so deep for me, aren’t you? You’re so far gone... I wonder if there’s a thought left in there, hmm?”
Fingers brushing under his chin, Miria’s thumb propped under his lower lip. Delighting in how loose and slacked his jaw felt. He had completely and utterly surrendered tonight. How wonderful.
“Tell me if there’s any thoughts in there, Jason?” She asked with a wide grin.
“No, Mistress. There’s none.” Jason replied instantly, monotoned and airy.
“Ooh~ So quick to respond still!” Miria grinned, her other hand tucked behind Jason’s head giving it rewarding, affectionate scratches, “....None whatsoever~?”
“None whatsoever, Mistress.” He answered.
“Gooddd boyy~ Jasonn~” Miria cooed, bringing her lips closer to his ear.
A small moan breathed past Jason’s lips. His eyelids flickered with a faint eyeroll. Still, he continued to stare at the flame.
“Because you know deep in that subconscious of yours that you don’t need to think to listen. You don’t need thoughts to respond. To reply. To obey. ...Do you, Jason~?”
“No, Mistress.... I don’t. None whatsoever.”
Miria bit her lower lip with a delighted, lustful hum. He didn’t usually give up so easily. Though she liked their usual, pretend game of cat and mouse, this... This she could definitely get used to.
“So good... So obedient. Such a good, good boy for me...~ Aren’t you, Jason?”
“Y-Yes... Mistress. I’m a... good boy.” He breathed out with need.
“Who are you again?”
“I’m a good boy...”
“Again.”
“I’m a good boy.” Jason repeated.
“Again.”
“I’m a good boy.”
“Again.”
“I’m a good boy.”
“Again, Jason. Again.” Miria commanded, “Say it again and again till I tell you otherwise.”
“I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy. I’m a good bo—”
Jason kept repeating. His voice growing more and more breathless. A hardness intensely growing, prodding behind Miria. As if begging, pleading to be permitted access. To satisfy his unconscious, unrelenting lust. Still, he didn’t stop. Still, he never looked back.
“—I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy. I’m a good boy. I’m a good—”
“Stop.”
Jason stopped. Thought his breathing had become noticeably heavier. His otherwise vacant, ever-staring golden eyes glinting with an unspoken, insatiable pleasure.
Miria knew he wouldn’t last much longer, if the significant, hard prodding between her legs meant anything. Neither would she. Feeling the puddle of wetness sticking her panties to her... and possibly soaking right through to her pants.
With a gentle, beckoning motion, she turned Jason’s head away from the candle’s light.
“Look into my eyes, Jason...” She ordered, low and seductive, “Stare deeply into them. There is another flame inside them both. A silverly, glimmering one.”
Jason couldn’t help moaning at the thought. His head craned back like a limp noodle weight back by a bowling ball. With only Miria’s strong grip holding it upright.
“Beautiful...” He murmured absentmindedly.
Miria couldn’t help giggling. Seemed one thought snuck its way in. Oh well. She’ll forgive this one.
“Yes, Jason... They are, aren’t they?” She mused with a tender grin, “They’re so pretty. So beautiful. The way they dance against the fire’s light like the sunlight dancing with moonbeams. Like the candle, you just can’t resist looking at them..."
Can’t resist...”
“You must keep staring.”
“Must keep... staring...”
“There are no thoughts left in you.”
“No thoughts... left...”
“There is nothing left, Jason...”
“Nothing... left...”
Miria lips trailed over Jason’s own. Her final words, the passionate, demanding kiss that followed his reply, brought forth the peek of this climax. Jason may not quite remember everything exactly. But he would recall all the feelings. For tonight brought a pleasure unlike anything he had known before.
“No thoughts. Head so empty. Nothing left in your mind. Nothing at all left... but me.”
Writing from this original post on DeviantArt. For a Hypnovember thing
Ngl, this one is still one of my favorites. <3
-*-
HEAD PETS
Ace hadn’t slept in too long. Recent events had made it difficult to convince himself to do so. Even quick naps were out of the question. But the danger had long since passed. Still, Ace couldn’t sleep properly.
Until tonight. When Emily discovers her bodyguard’s unexpected weakness.
Ace perked—or rather jolted violently at the noise. Emily’s meek little voice calling out to him. As he, nearly nodding off from his guarding post, practically jumped off the wall. Stumbling to stand.
“—What?! Hu—...oh.” Ace realized, looking around to see no danger.
Nothing but hallways of closed doors. Save that of Emily’s, which was open by a crack. As the Princess peeked through the doorway.
‘Fuck. Did I fall asleep?’ He wondered with a mental curse. Grumbling as he roughly rubbed the bridge of his nose and eyelids. Trying to wake himself.
“S-s-sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t—mean—I’m sorry I woke you.” Emily apologized.
“Nah, no, uh...You didn’t.” Ace lied, forcing a grin, “Just resting my eyes for a sec. What’s up,
Princess?”
Emily didn’t return it. Her face was uncharacteristically unreadable. Quietly, she pushed the door wide open. Standing in its frame wearing her pajama gown and soft, silk robe. Her pale blonde hair loose from its usual solitary braid. It openly flowed over her shoulders and down her back, nearing her mid-waist.
Ace hid a subtle swallow. 'Cute...'
“Ace... You really should rest.” Emily began carefully, “You need sleep. We can ask someone els—!”
“No.”
The sudden sharp word brought silence between them. Ace sighed, hardened features softening with guilt.
“I’m... I’m good, Emily.” Ace insisted. Yet another pause lingered, prompting him to admit, “...Last time someone else watched you, I regretted it. They got reckless. That’s not happening again. Not on my watch.”
Surprisingly, instead of relenting as she usually did, Emily gave a long sigh. Green eyes drifting off as more silence came. Until she spoke again.
“...Couldn’t you, at least... come inside?”
Ace would be lying if he said he did not blush hearing that.
Coughing, he asked, “...Pardon?”
“I-It’s just, uh... I feel bad y-you’re just standing out here, and, well...” She took a deep breath in, then continued, “...I’d... I’d feel better knowing you’re c-cl-closer. I-In my r-room, I m-mean. I-I can’t sleep any—w-way...”
A third yet final pause came. Emily expected a refusal or another excuse to come after it. Instead, Ace shockingly relented.
“...sure. Uh.” He answered, awkwardly clearing his throat, “Can I, uh... come in?"
“Oh, uh—O-okay...!” Emily replied, hasily stepping aside to let him in, “I mean y-yes. You can.”
As Ace entered the room, Emily poked around him and carefully shut it behind them both. Meanwhile, the bodyguard took in the bedroom. A pink, pastel-goth paradise with a bookish, geek chic charm. With expensive, lavish furniture and the four-poster, California king-size bed as the centerpiece of it all.
A bed that looked so deliciously comfortable right about now...
Roughly, Ace shook his head. Holding it as he restrained a closed-mouth grumble. No. He couldn’t let himself get weak like this. He must stay awake. He has to.
“Are you okay?” Emily asked worriedly.
“Yeah, just... got a headache.” Ace answered slowly, “That’s all...”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Staying awake too long had left him feeling like absolute shit. Leaving a tension headache in his temples he could not seem to get rid of. With the pounding exhaustion of his eyelids desperately wanting to close not helping in the slightest. Everything ached. But he just couldn’t afford to sleep.
“Ace...”
With little warning else, Emily’s fingers reached towards the taller young man. An unexpected courage fueled her actions. As her fingers, her smaller hand, carefully caressed Ace’s scarred face.
‘He looks so exhausted...’ Emily thought worriedly, taking in her bodyguards’ weary features.
Ace said nothing. Keeping the strange bravery somewhat fuel in Emily. As fingers continued, letting them gently brush back a few loose strains from his man-bun. Absentmindedly, those fingers lingered. Feeling the soft buzz of his undercut. The fuzzy, gentle, prickling sensation which she couldn’t help enjoying. It felt oddly nice.
“Oh gosh! S-Sorry, I...—!” She began to apologize.
Then stopped.
Ace’s expression was one of pure bliss. His face was uncharacteristically soft, eyebrows utterly relaxed with eyes heavily closed. Whilst his head lolled, only scarcely held up by Emily’s touch. Her lingering hand was the only thing keeping it slightly upright.
He was... enjoying it??
Pausing briefly, Emily slowly started scratching. Fingernails working through to the top of his head, into his roots. It elicited another low, pleasing grumble to echo throughout Ace’s chest and up his throat. As it dwindled and grew into an evident, pleasant moan.
A moan that promptly made Emily withdraw her hand, flustered beyond belief.
“...huh?” Ace perked, eyelids scarcely opening to reveal dazed blues. They looked like a lost puppy genuinely confused why his petting had ceased, “...why’d ya stop?”
“I...”
Emily stopped herself from speaking. It occurred to her that this was a golden opportunity. One not to be wasted. If she kept going, if she just didn’t lose her nerve, Ace would FINALLY go to sleep. She could finally make him rest.
“...Sorry.” Emily managed awkwardly.
Then, she let her hand continue. Watching Ace’s eyelids heavily flicker shut, as his head leaned heavier into her hand. Humming with contentment.
Was this wrong? Lying to him? Well, to Emily own argument, it wasn’t... completely lying. Not really.... was it? He did want her to continue, didn't he? It wasn’t that devious... right?
Though his head was quickly getting very, very heavy in her one hand...
“Um... Ace?”
“Hmmmm~?” Ace hummed distantly.
“Can we, uh... head to my bed? J-just t-to sit on, obviously!” Emily quickly added.
“Huh...?”
Ace jerked somewhat, eyes barely opening. For a moment, Emily wondered if she messed up and he
realized her trickery. But, to her greater shock, he just shrugged.
“Yeah, uh... yeah. Sure. Let’s go...”
Emily face softened with a mixture of concern and guilt. Even so, she carefully took Ace’s hand and led him to the bed. Guiding him to sit on the edge with her, Emily looked him over. Seeing Ace barely awake, just scarcely keeping upright as he swayed somewhat where he sat.
It seemed to Emily perhaps he had decidedly given up the ruse. Maybe Ace was finally realizing how badly he wanted to sleep.
‘...He really is so tired.’ Emily thought with profound sympathy, “Poor Ace...’
“Do you wanna, uh... take off you, uh... accessories?” She suggested.
He still had his jewelry, tie, and vest on. Which she imagined wasn’t going to be comfortable. The belt... well, he could figure that one out. The idea alone made her flush deeper.
Sleepily, Ace began plucking everything off. His rings, gauges, tie, and so forth. Kicked his leather shoes off. Everything was dropped or tossed carelessly to the carpet. Doing as she suggested without any hesitance. Much less real awareness.
“...I... really shouldn’t be...” He began half-heartedly, voice distantly soft. As he hooked his fingers into his tie and pulled it lose. When he clicked off the belt, however, something stirred him awake.
“Wait, fuck... w...what am I... I shouldn’t be—”
Emily, mid-panicking from these words, began petting his head again. Her fingers slowly scratching circles into the crevasse connecting his neck and skull. Feeling how Ace stiffed before instantly melting under her touch. Eyes practically rolling shut with a low, longing sigh of utter surrender.
“......what was I... saying again...?” He wistfully asked, leaning sideways towards her touch.
“Hmm?” Emily questioned oh-so-innocently, pretending not to hear him.
“Mmm... nevermind.....”
The belt distantly fell to the floor.
With one final sigh, Ace’s body buckled. Falling towards Emily. Head flopping upon her shoulder without care. As she clumsily scrambled to keep him upright, arms intertwining round his waist and upper arms.
“L—Let’s, uh... Wh-why don’t we—c-come lie down w-with me, o-okay, A-Ace?” Emily stammered meekly, face blindly red.
Ace could only give a vague grumble. Yet he did as he was told. With great effort, Emily helped him lie down further up on the bed, so their legs weren’t dangling off the edge. Guiding her guard’s head to lie back on a thick, luscious pillow. An act which made him sigh all the deeper. Made his powerful body sink all the more profoundly.
As she grabbed the blankets to pull over him, Emily wondered how her cheeks hadn’t burned off at this point. Oh, be still her beating heart. The sight of him resting so peacefully... Why did she feel this way?
“Em...ily..?” Ace mumbled, eyebrows knitting with discomfort, panic growing, “...wh-where...?”
Emily reached forward, petting back the lock of his hair. Relieved to see Ace’s semi-unconscious face immediately relax, leaning into her touch once more. Her heart taking a steady, pleasant rhythm.
'He really wants to keep me safe...' She couldn't help softly admiring, 'He's pushed himself so hard all because of me. This is...the least I can do for him, right?'
“I’m here... I’m right here, Ace.” She soothed out loud, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Hmmmm~”
Without warning, Ace’s body rotated towards her and his muscular arms enveloped her entirely. Pulling her close. His face buried snuggly into her plump chest with a happy hum. As if her breasts were just another pillow to lie into it.
A shiver of pure shock and embarrassment rocketed up and down Emily’s spine. She was frozen. Yet her face was sizzling with heat. Unable to move entirely. Not that she could, even if she was able! Ace was significantly stronger and taller than her. She was pretty sure this roguish man was about ¾ of pure, lean muscle.
This was not what she expected. This was NOT supposed to happen. She was going to get him to sleep, make a pillow barrier between them, and then sleep on the other side of the bed. (It was a massive bed, after all! A California King! Plenty of space!) How is it she’s now trapped entirely by this slumbering, surprisingly snuggly beast?!
Who, admittedly, is enjoying cuddling her breast far too much.... Every motion rockets more sensations up and down her. ...Especially down. One feeling she didn’t dare admit to, even in the privacy of her mind.
With a soft, muted whine, Emily covers her sizzling red face with both hands.
“How am I so dumbbbb...~?” She voicelessly whined.
Still...
After a moment of regaining herself, Emily hands drag down her face. She then looks down at him.
The sight making her heart do a thousand flips.
Ace always had one of two expressions on his face. Ranging from teasing cockiness to deathly seriousness, depending on the situation. But this...The softness in every edge of his features. The way he snores faintly, nestled into her chest. The expressionless, pure relaxation of his face. The way she watches his backside rise and fall with every slow, languish breath.
He truly was well and deeply asleep. He was finally resting. He finally felt safe again.
And the sight made Emily’s heartbeat race. Such warmth and elation threating to burst through her being. Yet, it also gave her the rare courage to do... at least one more dumb thing. As, leaning down towards him, she left a lingering, slow kiss upon his forehead. One, which, unbeknownst to her, made Ace unconsciously smile a small, tiny bit.
Tomorrow, she will deal with the consequences. Tonight, she was just happy that both would be getting some sleep tonight.
What the heck has happened to Tumblr? Is this new or has this always been a thing that I've only just stumbled upon. Idk. I'm just here trying to get my work out on more platforms. T^T
Original from DeviantArt is here, for anyone interested.
One of my first, so yeah the text looks wonky here too.... Was still getting used to ClipArtStudio and figuring out how to use HeroForge to make comics... ^^;; Definitely one I might redo one day.... 👀
Idk if this counts as mature, but... ehhh?? I originally had it as mature on DA, but now idk. If y'all think it should be, let me know. ^^;
Still gonna put it under a "read below" thingy. Just incase.
Original from DeviantArt is here, for anyone interested.
One of my first, so yeah the text looks wonky here too.... Was still getting used to ClipArtStudio and figuring out how to use HeroForge to make comics... ^^;; Definitely one I might redo one day.... 👀
Idk if this counts as mature, but... ehhh?? I originally had it as mature on DA, but now idk. If y'all think it should be, let me know. ^^;
