Multi-Fandom Ficlets

Contents

Ought To Kick Your Ass (Bones)
Don’t Bet Your Power Star (Power Rangers Ninja Steel)
Help Me Be More Responsible (Power Rangers Ninja Steel)
Far More Important (Power of Three)
Prepared For Anything, Even A Spanking (Fate: The Winx Club Saga)

Summary: Tag to season one episode The Graft in the Girl. Cullen tells Booth he should kick his ass for disobeying his orders. He spanks his subordinate instead
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers up to and including the aforementioned episode; references to a teenaged girl with cancer; some references to violence and murder
Author’s Note: Okay, I decided to start a new series of ficlets. These are the missing/added scenes that aren’t long enough to be put into a full fic. Not quite drabbles, but not full-length fics either. So I hope readers enjoy these!

###

“What did you do?” Cullen sounded tired as he asked the question. “Use up your sick days to work on this case?”

“Yeah.” Booth smiled, with a small amount of humour creeping into his voice. “Had a migraine.” He paused, leaned back against the desk and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Pissed,” Cullen admitted. He looked at Booth, then shook his head. “At this situation. At you. You disobeyed my orders.”

“To be fair, sir, I was working on my downtime,” Booth answered. “I know you’re mad, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He paused and gentled his tone. “Maybe it’s too late to help your daughter, but there are other people we might be able to help. People who don’t deserve to die.”

“She doesn’t deserve to die.” Cullen’s voice was very low.

“I know.”

Cullen shook his head and turned back to look directly at Booth. “I understand why you did it. And I understand you were trying to help. Not only me, but the rest of the victims. But it doesn’t change that you went behind my back and did exactly what I told you not to do.”

“So what are you going to do?” Booth asked.

Cullen looked past him, focusing his attention on the desk that Booth was leaning against. He stepped over to it and reached out, picking up a thin metal ruler. He then turned towards Booth and waited, raising his eyebrows.

“You could just suspend me,” Booth said.

“I could,” Cullen agreed. “But I’d prefer to avoid that, if possible. And corporal punishment isn’t unheard of in the FBI.”

“I know. But it isn’t implemented that often.” Booth paused. “Is this about my relationship with Bones?”

“It’s got nothing to do with the Squints,” Cullen answered. “This is about you disobeying the orders I gave you.”

Booth glanced at the door and Cullen, without saying anything, walked over and shut it, giving them at least the illusion of privacy. It was late at night and Booth thought they were the only ones there. Still. He preferred to be absolutely certain no one would walk in on them.

He didn’t wait for further instructions or directions. He’d known he was disobeying orders when he’d taken those sick days to investigate. He hadn’t been expecting Cullen to use corporal punishment, but he could take it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d suffered pain due to his need to do the right thing, even if it was going against orders right now.

Booth walked over to the desk and pushed the files to one side, clearing a space. He then leaned forward, positioning himself bent over the smooth wooden surface, hands grabbing onto the far edge for support.

He heard Cullen’s footsteps behind him and the next moment, he felt his supervisor’s hand on his lower back and the thin metal against the seat of his pants. It tapped a few times and then was brought down against the center of his backside.

Booth breathed in deep and focused on a point on the wall in front of him. The ruler landed in a slow, steady pattern, covering his entire backside down to mid-thigh in the stinging strokes. He gripped the edge of the desk tighter, his knuckles turning white, as Cullen made sure no inch of his bottom and thighs was left untouched by the sting of the ruler.

By the time Cullen paused, Booth was shifting from one foot to the other. His bottom and thighs felt like they’d been doused in scalding water. He started to push himself up, but Cullen’s hand pressing down on his back kept him in position.

Ten strokes were delivered firmly to his sit spots and Booth groaned, then gripped the desk even tighter as a further dozen were delivered to the tops of his thighs.

When Cullen released him, Booth wasn’t crying, but he knew sitting down would be low on his list of things to do for the rest of the night. Gingerly, he pushed himself up and turned to face his boss, hands at his sides instead of where he wanted them to be: rubbing the sting out of his bottom. “I can’t apologise for investigating.”

“I know.” Cullen placed the ruler on the desk once more. “But next time, I’m sure you’ll remember the chain of command and why it exists.” He paused. “Thank you.”

Booth just nodded. Dismissed with a gesture, he headed out of the office.

The End

Summary: Even though Calvin had no intention of giving the monster his power star, Brody thinks his teammate needs to learn a lesson about responsibility
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first series of Power Rangers: Ninja Steel

###

As the others left the base, Brody placed a hand on Calvin’s arm and asked, his voice low, “Can you stay behind for a bit? I want to talk to you.”

Their normally easygoing leader had a more serious look on his face and Calvin found himself responding with the same level of seriousness. “Yeah, of course.” He smiled at his girlfriend as she looked back towards him and nodded towards the door. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Redbot? Mick?” Brody looked at the other two residents of the base. “Mind giving us a bit of privacy?”

“Of course, Brody!” Redbot replied enthusiastically. “I will wait for you outside when you’re ready!” The robot followed the rest of the rangers out of the exit.

Mick was a bit slower to follow. He glanced at Calvin and then at Brody, before speaking in a low voice. “Remember how things turned out for you all today.” Without waiting for a response, he too followed the others from the hideout, leaving Calvin and Brody alone.

Calvin frowned. “What was all that about?” he muttered.

Brody squeezed his arm lightly and turned him to look into his eyes. “You were going to bet your power star.”

Calvin’s mouth dropped open and he stared down at his yellow power star, then up into Brody’s eyes. “I was trying to get the monster to follow me to the park. I never would have given it up.”

“Really?” Brody asked, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice. “The power star chose you. You can’t treat it like a trinket or a toy that you can just give up.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Brody.” Calvin smiled at the other teenager. “I know you think I’m laidback and carefree, but I know what being a power ranger means. Not only to me, but also to the people here. I might have offered to bet my power star, but it was only because I knew you’d all have my back. If I thought I might lose the power star, I would never have risked betting it.”

“I have to be certain of that,” Brody said, a conflicted look passing over his face.

“What does that mean?” Calvin asked.

Brody was still holding onto Calvin’s arm and now, he led him over to the desk. Turning him round, he pushed against the small of his back.

Calvin stumbled forward, his stomach hitting the edge of the desk and sending the air out of his mouth in a whoosh of air. His hands shot out to catch his balance and his fingers gripped on tight before he tried to push himself up.

Brody pushed down on his lower back and the next moment, his hand collided firmly with Calvin’s bottom.

A slight sting bloomed on Calvin’s right cheek and he gasped. His fingers curled around the far edge of the desk as a matching smack was delivered to his left buttock and then he jumped slightly as two more smacks were delivered below the first.

Brody continued to hold Calvin down against the desk as he smacked, gradually warming Calvin’s bottom beneath his hand. The smacks weren’t unbearably painful, but the cumulative effect was enough to cause him to begin wriggling in place.

A few more smacks were delivered to the tops of his thighs and Calvin’s head jerked up, surprised at the sting on the sensitive skin there. He released one hand from the desk and moved it back, placing his hand protectively over his thighs. “That hurts.”

“That’s the point.” Brody pulled his hand away, but didn’t let go of it, instead holding his hand against his back. “I don’t want you to be so careless with your power star that you end up losing it.”

“I won’t.” Calvin wriggled like a worm on a hook as Brody reached under his stomach, undoing his pants and then tugging them down to just below his knees. Then, he resumed the spanking.

Calvin was fairly sure that Brody wasn’t smacking much harder, but with only the thin layer of his boxers between his butt and Brody’s hand, the sting on his backside became more pronounced. And when Brody slapped his bare thighs, it stung enough to take Calvin’s breath away.

His whole bottom and thighs felt like he’d been sunburned there. He whimpered softly when his boxers were pulled down, leaving his entire backside bare to Brody’s hand. And the other teenager didn’t hold back, smacking Calvin’s bare bottom firmly, making sure that no inch was left without attention.

Brody moved his hand a bit lower and began to focus more smacks to Calvin’s thighs, making him whimper and yelp in response to the burn to the more sensitive areas. He lost count after a full dozen, slumping forward over the desk as tears filled his eyes and his backside burned. He gave a quiet sob.

The spanking came to a stop and Brody rubbed his lower back for a few moments, giving him the time to calm down before he pulled Calvin’s clothing back into place and helped him to stand up. “I need you to know how serious this is.”

Calvin reached back and gingerly rubbed at his stinging bottom. “I don’t think I’ll forget any time soon,” he said ruefully.

“Good.” Brody nodded and started towards the exit, calling back over his shoulder, “A repeat of that is gonna get you spanked again.”

“Understood.” Still rubbing, Calvin followed his friend out of the base. “Where’d you learn to spank like that?”

The End

Summary: Direct sequel to Don’t Bet Your Power Star. Calvin didn’t choose to have his power star taken from him, but he still lost it, however temporarily
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the first season of Power Rangers: Ninja Steel

###

Calvin was bent over the desk.

Brody paused in the doorway, watching his friend. The yellow ranger’s back was to the exit/entrance, but he had to have known that Brody was there. And that he would be the only one there. The position was identical to the one Calvin had been in when Brody had spanked him for betting his power coin. The only difference this time was that he wasn’t being held in place.

Deciding to remedy that, Brody walked over and placed his hand on his friend’s back. There was something almost comforting in the familiarity of this; an echo of the last time they’d done this. Under his touch, he could feel some of the tension seep out of Calvin’s body; felt it as his friend relaxed while Brody rubbed his back.

“You going to tell me why we’re here this time?” Brody asked quietly.

“I lost my power star.” The admission was uttered in a low tone, filled with guilt. Calvin wasn’t looking at him; instead, he was staring at the far wall. “I know the monster grabbed it cause I was slowed right down, but I knew I was slowing down. I should never have risked it.” He paused and whispered, his voice sounding tight, “I’m sorry.”

There were many things Brody could say to that. Knew he could say to that. He could tell Calvin that he didn’t need to feel guilty. That it had happened to Sarah and Hayley as well and would Calvin expect them to carry some of the blame?

He said neither of those things. Instead, he lifted his hand and smacked. Hard.

Calvin sucked in a sharp breath. “Man, I forgot how much that hurt.”

“Sort of the point.” Brody smacked again and then a third time, each as hard as the first. “If it didn’t hurt, the lesson wouldn’t stick.” He spanked slow and steadily, spreading the swats out evenly over Calvin’s pants, making sure he’d covered every inch at least once before starting over from the top.

Calvin gripped the edge of the desk, only letting out a low groan when Brody’s palm connected with a particularly painful spot. His head was down, but Brody could see the tips of his ears; could see the red staining them.

He paused when Calvin was jerking with each smack. Slid his hand beneath Calvin’s stomach and undid his pants, then pulled them down, pooling them around his ankles.

The smacks got more of a reaction now, Calvin gasping and jerking his legs in response whenever Brody’s hand connected. Through the white of his boxers, pink flesh peeked out, rapidly growing darker as Brody aimed his smacks at the target.

By the time Brody paused, Calvin was gasping quietly and Brody’s palm was stinging. He shook out the ache before tugging down the last protection his friend had, revealing Calvin’s bare bottom, now bright pink from the smacks it had absorbed so far.

The smacks to bare skin now sounded abnormally loud in the room. Calvin gasped and yelped, finally throwing his hand back over his bottom.

Brody simply grabbed the hand, pulling it out of the way and delivering a firmer series of smacks to Calvin’s thighs; and to his sit spots, ensuring the spanking would be felt every time his friend sat down. At least for the rest of the day.

By the time Brody called the spanking done, he could hear Calvin sniffling quietly. He let go of the teenager’s hand and it moved to his bottom, rubbing the reddened flesh gently before being joined by his other hand.

Brody stood by, letting Calvin calm down and soothe the fire burning in his bottom for a while. The yellow ranger remained bent over the desk, though, and it took Brody longer than he would have liked to realise Calvin was waiting for permission to get up.

“The spanking’s over,” Brody said. And then, because it seemed like the right thing to say, “You took it well.”

“Still hurts like I sat in the sun.” Calvin stood slowly, pulling his boxers and pants back into place and then turning to face Brody, hands still clasping his bottom gingerly. “Man, you really know how to spank,” he said ruefully.

“Yeah. I’ve been on the receiving end a few times myself.”

Calvin raised his eyebrows and took a step closer to Brody. “Maybe you can share that with me someday,” he commented.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Brody smiled and reached out, squeezing his friend’s arm. “You feeling any better?”

“Apart from my butt? Yeah.” Calvin’s smile turned into a grimace as he added, “I only hope that this won’t be necessary a third time.”

“You and me both.” Brody grinned and then walked towards the exit.

Calvin quickly joined him and the two steered clear of any conversations about spankings or other forms of punishment…even though Brody felt a faint pang for what could have been before he’d escaped and come to Earth.

The End

Summary: After the celebrations die down, Hathil takes Hafny to task
Warning(s): Spanking of a young teenager; spoilers for the whole book; references to violence

###

It had taken a long time for the celebrations to finally die down. Everyone was happy, as if a great weight had been lifted from all three peoples. Hafny had even seen the effects of letting go of hatred and vengeance had had on his father.

And even Hathil’s directions to Hafny to meet his father in his chamber couldn’t spoil the sense of joy breaking the curse had brought.

But after all of the representatives had returned to their homes and Hafny and Gair had promised to meet Gerald at his home, Hafny knew his moment of reckoning had come. His father might not be truly angry any longer, but that didn’t mean he’d be free of punishment.

Many of their people had left for the mounds Gest had promised already. There was no one to witness Hafny as he walked along the narrow hallways towards his father’s room. Even Halla wasn’t there to give him a sympathetic smile. Or to tell him she’d told him so, which was far more likely.

Hathil reclined in his chair, wounded leg stretched out in front of him, a pensive look on his face. He looked up at Hafny standing in the doorway and beckoned him closer.

Stomach twisting and gut clenching, Hafny walked to his father’s side. He didn’t need any further instructions. He bent at the waist and crawled into position across his father’s lap, stretching until his hands rested on the cold floor and his backside perched between Hathil’s knees.

The first smack was firm and loud and Hafny winced. He focused on a spot on the far wall and waited.

“Why, Hafny?” His father’s hand rested on his back, between his shoulder blades.

Confused and somewhat apprehensive over this deviation from their normal pattern, Hafny twisted his head to look at his father. “Why what?”

Hathil lifted his hand again and Hafny looked away quickly, though he felt the second stinging swat. “Why put yourself in their hands?”

“Because you were going to sacrifice them.” Hafny’s body twitched at the third smack. His bottom was beginning to smart, even through the layers that covered it. “You were going to sacrifice my friends,” he added, a more rebellious note creeping into his voice.

Another firm smack, this one low enough to catch the tops of his thighs. “What if they’d chosen to sacrifice you?” Hathil demanded, his voice turning hoarse.

Hafny stilled at the pain he heard in his father’s voice. Hesitantly, he said, “I told them to…but they wouldn’t listen!” He hurried to add on that last bit, but the response still earned him another smack. “I was safe with them,” he said. “They brought me back home, Father. And you broke the curse with them.” His body twitched, expecting another smack. When none was forthcoming, he allowed himself to relax and continued, “Our people don’t have to hide under the water anymore. I can’t regret that.”

“You’re far too much like me,” Hathil muttered. He helped Hafny to his feet and placed his hands on his shoulders, looking into his son’s eyes. “Don’t you ever put yourself in that kind of risk again,” he scolded. Then, he wrapped his arms around Hafny in a tight hug, whispering, “You’re far too important to endanger yourself.”

“I know. I’m your heir.”

“You’re my son,” Hathil corrected, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. “And I love you. That’s why I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.”

The sting hadn’t really lasted past the swats and certainly hadn’t been enough to draw tears to Hafny’s eyes. But his father’s words brought them forth and he returned the hug, fierce and tight, letting the comfort soothe him in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling soothed before. “I love you too, Father.”

The End

Summary: Tag to Heavy Mortal Hopes. Saul punishes Sky for endangering himself
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers up to and including the aforementioned episode; some references to violence

###
Sky held onto Saul, breath hitching as he gasped in relief. And for a few moments, they stood like that, holding onto each other, Sky finally able to feel that he wasn’t going to lose another father. At least not yet.

And then Saul released him and turned him towards the door of the greenhouse. At the same time, his hand collided none-too-gently with Sky’s bottom. “Go to your dorm room and get ready.”

“But Saul….” Sky chanced a glance back over his shoulder.

Another smack landed, propelling Sky forward a step before Saul’s hand landed again and again, swatting him towards the greenhouse door, his palm landing with each step Sky took; his hand holding Sky’s shoulder, so that Saul could time the smacks to each step. “Argue with me again and I’ll smack you all the way to your dorm, no matter who’s there to see.” He released Sky’s arm. “Wait for me.”

Saul was angry. It was obvious. Angry and worried. Maybe even scared, underneath it all. Backside smarting from just those few smacks and pride hurting worse, Sky didn’t try to argue, instead quickly leaving the greenhouse and heading inside the school, towards his dorm room.

Riven was there; thankfully, alone. He glanced up as Sky walked into the room, then frowned as Sky walked over to his bed and began to pile up pillows in the middle of it. “What are you doing?”

“I went after a Burned One.” Sky wasn’t in the mood to deal with Riven. He looked at his best friend. “Better make yourself scarce for the next couple of hours.”

Riven grimaced. “Yeah. Rather your ass than mine.” He shook his head and walked towards the door, muttering under his breath, “At least the favourite still gets disciplined.”

Sky waited for Riven to leave the room before undoing his pants. He pushed them down, hesitated and then stepped out of them. Because he wouldn’t want to pull them up over his throbbing, burning backside when Saul was done with him.

Bending over the bed, shuffling until his backside was prominently over the pillows and he was ‘ready’, Sky thought for a moment or two before he reached back and pulled his underwear down, fully exposing his bottom and thighs. And then he waited, bottom pimpling in the cold, bare cheeks clenching in anticipation.

Sky didn’t need to look over his shoulder to see Saul enter the room when he heard the door open and then close. He heard his father grunt in satisfaction; wondered if Saul might go easy on him because of his obedience.

There was no scolding. No lecture. Just the whistle and crack of Saul’s leather belt as it landed across the fullest part of Sky’s backside.

Sucking in his breath sharply, Sky squeezed the comforter. That first stripe burned like fire and seconds later, the second and third stripe landed, each one just below the previous.

Sky didn’t hold back his reactions, allowing himself to whimper, moan and groan when the belt landed. He hissed when the leather impacted his bare thighs; kicked his legs when the belt began landing on skin that had already received attention.

Just when Sky thought he might break from the burning pain of the belt alone, Saul paused, resting the belt against his throbbing backside. “I don’t care what your reasons are, you do not go after a Burned One on your own.”

“I couldn’t lose you!” After those words burst out of his throat, Sky’s whole body slumped and he began to sob. He hadn’t let go of the grief and fear; hadn’t allowed himself to truly feel it. Now he did and he couldn’t stop crying.

The strapping stopped and Sky felt Saul’s arms wrap around him. He clung to his father and breathed in deep, letting his tears calm down…at least until he could feel the burning in his backside. And then he muttered, “Ow.”

Saul rubbed his back. “No more risking yourself, Sky. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” Sky knew he should pull back. Get into bed. It was late and he was tired. But Saul’s embrace was comforting and it was just the two of them there…and he figured, just for now, he could accept the comfort and not worry about anything else.

The End