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elryuse · 2 days ago

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YN is a struggling student, focusing on being a student and a having a job to sustain his daily necessities.

One night his classmates asked if he wanted to go to the club with them, he agreed and brought his girlfriend with him.

As soon as they arrived YN caught the eye of a girl from the VIP section, the girl called one of her bodyguards and instructed the guard to come to YN's table and invite him over, but YN disagreed. As soon as the girl heard that he disagreed she told the guard to invite both YN and his girlfriend to the VIP table.

YN reluctantly agreed because his girlfriend kept pushing him to agree, once they arrived at the VIP table the girl introduced herself saying her name was Giselle. Giselle offered them free drinks and they accepted it.

As the night goes on Giselle suddenly made an offer to the couple, "I'll give you $50,000 if you let me spend the night with YN".

YN immediately declined but his girlfriend said to think it through saying that they both need the money, After a while YN reluctantly agreed.

After that Giselle took YN to her penthouse and spent the night having some fun. But the next day Giselle couldn't have enough of him and decided to just buy YN off his girlfriend.

Making Your Boyfriend Mine.

GISELLE X MALE READER

Tags : Cheating, Reverse NTR, Cowgirl, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Lots of Kissing, Seductive, Dangerous Romance

3,7k Words

The bass pulsed through the club, vibrating in YN’s chest as he sipped his watered-down drink. His girlfriend, Mia, swayed beside him, her laughter blending with the music. She looked stunning tonight—her dress clinging to her curves, her hair catching the strobe lights in a way that made it shimmer like liquid gold. But YN couldn’t shake the weight of exhaustion pressing on him. Between classes and his part-time job at the diner, he was running on fumes. He only agreed to come tonight because Mia had begged him, saying they needed to "live a little."

Across the room, he caught her gaze—a woman in the VIP section, surrounded by bodyguards and bathed in an aura of power. She was unlike anyone he’d ever seen. Her dark eyes locked onto his, unblinking, like a predator sizing up its prey. He felt naked under her stare, even from across the crowded floor.

She’s looking right at me, he thought, quickly averting his eyes. But it was too late. A burly man in a black suit was already making his way toward their table.

YN’s heart skipped a beat. The man leaned down, his voice low but commanding. "Miss Giselle would like you to join her at her table."

YN froze. "Who?" he asked, though he already knew who she was. The woman in the VIP section hadn’t stopped watching him.

"Giselle," the man repeated, nodding toward the booth. "She’s… insistent."

"No thanks," YN said firmly, gripping Mia’s hand under the table. "We’re good here."

But Mia’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Are you serious? That’s Giselle? The Giselle? She owns half the city!" She turned to the bodyguard, practically bouncing in her seat. "Tell her we’ll be right over."

"Mia—" YN started, but she cut him off.

"Oh, come on! It’s not every day someone like her invites us to sit with her. We can’t say no!"

Before he could protest further, they were being ushered to the VIP section. Giselle sat at the center of the booth, her legs crossed elegantly, a glass of champagne in her hand. Up close, she was even more striking—her sharp cheekbones, her full lips painted a deep red, her presence commanding the space around her like a queen holding court.

"Welcome," she purred, gesturing for them to sit. "I’m Giselle. And you are…?"

"YN," he said stiffly, sliding into the booth. "And this is my girlfriend, Mia."

Giselle’s lips curved into a slow smile. "Charming," she said, her gaze lingering on YN a moment too long before shifting to Mia. "You’re a lucky woman."

Mia giggled nervously, clearly starstruck. "Thank you. This is… wow. I mean, I’ve heard so much about you."

"All good things, I hope," Giselle said with a laugh, signaling for the waiter to bring them drinks. "Please, relax. Enjoy yourselves."

YN tried to keep his guard up, but the free drinks kept coming, and the conversation flowed surprisingly easily. Giselle was witty, charming, and disarmingly direct. She asked about their lives, their dreams, their struggles. By the time the third round of drinks arrived, YN found himself actually enjoying the conversation.

But then Giselle leaned forward, her expression turning serious. "Listen," she began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I’ll cut to the chase. I want to make you an offer. A very… generous one."

YN frowned, sensing where this was going. "What kind of offer?"

Her eyes flicked to Mia, then back to him. "Fifty thousand dollars. Tonight. All I ask in return is… you."

YN’s jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

Mia choked on her drink, her wide eyes darting between them. "Wait, what do you mean ‘you’?"

Giselle smiled, unfazed. "I want YN to spend the night with me. Just one night. Fifty thousand dollars. No strings attached. Think of it as… a business transaction."

YN shook his head immediately. "No. Absolutely not."

But Mia hesitated. "Wait, just… hang on. That’s a lot of money. We could pay off your student loans, get a better apartment…"

"Mia," YN said sharply, his stomach knotting with disbelief. "You can’t seriously be considering this."

"I’m just saying, we should think about it," she insisted, her voice pleading. "It’s one night. And it’s fifty thousand dollars. Do you know how much that could change our lives?"

YN stared at her, his mind racing. Is she really asking me to do this? To cheat on her? But the desperation in her eyes was unmistakable. They’d been struggling for so long—working themselves to the bone just to scrape by. Could he really say no to something that could fix everything?

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Fine. One night."

Giselle’s smile widened, triumph flashing in her eyes. "Perfect. Shall we get out of here?"

The penthouse was opulent beyond anything YN could have imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like stars. But he barely noticed any of it. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt, anxiety, and a strange, unwanted excitement.

Giselle stepped closer, her fingers brushing against his jaw. "Relax," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "You’re not going to regret this."

He swallowed hard, his body tense. "This doesn’t feel right."

"Doesn’t it?" she teased, her lips grazing his ear. "Or does it feel… inevitable?"

Her touch was electric, sending shivers down his spine. She pressed herself against him, her body molding to his with a practiced ease. Before he could protest again, her lips were on his, soft and demanding, stealing his breath away.

God, she knows what she’s doing, he thought, his resolve crumbling under her skillful hands. She guided him to the bed, her movements deliberate, unhurried. She straddled him, her dress sliding off her shoulders to reveal flawless skin.

"Let go," she whispered, her voice a command. "Just let me take care of you."

And he did. He let her push him down, let her hands roam his body, let her mouth trail kisses down his chest. She took control, moving with a confidence that left him powerless to resist. When she finally sank onto him, her warmth enveloping him completely, he couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped his lips.

She rode him slowly at first, her hips rolling in a rhythm that drove him wild. Then she shifted, flipping onto her knees in reverse cowgirl, showing off her perfect form. The sight alone was enough to make him ache.

"You’re mine tonight," she purred, glancing over her shoulder with a wicked grin. "Every inch of you."

YN gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as she picked up the pace. His mind was a blur of pleasure and guilt, the lines between right and wrong blurring with every thrust. She was relentless, bringing him to the edge only to pull back, teasing him until he was desperate for release.

"Beg for it," she demanded, her voice husky with desire.

He didn’t hesitate. "Please," he groaned, his voice ragged. "Please, Giselle, I need you."

She laughed softly, a sound that sent another wave of heat through him. "Good boy," she said, finally letting him tip over the edge.

The next morning, YN woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and Giselle perched on the edge of the bed, already dressed and composed.

"Morning," she said, handing him a cup of coffee. "Sleep well?"

He rubbed his face, the events of the night rushing back. "Uh… yeah. I guess."

She smirked, clearly amused by his discomfort. "Good. Because I want to talk to you about something."

He tensed, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

"Last night was… incredible," she admitted, her tone casual. "But I don’t think one night was enough. So I have a new offer for you."

YN’s stomach twisted. "What kind of offer?"

She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with determination. "I’ll buy you from Mia. Permanently."

YN’s breath hitched as Giselle’s words hung in the air. “Buy me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her proposal pressed against his chest, making it hard to think straight.

Giselle smirked, her confidence unwavering. She leaned back on the plush sofa, crossing her legs with an elegant grace that somehow made him feel even smaller. “Yes, buy you,” she confirmed, her tone cool and collected. “I’m not one to settle for temporary arrangements. I want you. All of you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Giselle stood up, closing the distance between them in a few effortless strides. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, sending a shiver down his spine. “You’re special, YN,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “Last night proved that. And I don’t plan on letting someone like you slip away so easily.”

Her touch was intoxicating, but guilt gnawed at him. He pulled away slightly, his mind racing. “I… I need to talk to Mia first,” he stammered, his voice trembling.

Giselle’s expression darkened, but only for a moment. She smiled knowingly, stepping back. “Of course,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Take your time. But remember, I don’t wait forever.”

YN left her penthouse feeling like he was walking through a fog. His thoughts were a jumbled mess as he made his way back to his and Mia’s tiny apartment. When he stepped inside, Mia was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes narrowed as soon as she saw him.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, her tone sharp.

YN hesitated, his stomach twisting into knots. “We need to talk,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Mia’s expression softened slightly, but suspicion lingered in her eyes. “Talk about what?” she asked, her voice cautious.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “Giselle… she made another offer. She wants to buy me. Permanently.”

Mia’s eyes widened in shock, but then a strange look crossed her face—something akin to consideration. “And? What did you say?” she asked, her voice surprisingly calm.

YN frowned, confused by her reaction. “I didn’t say anything yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Mia, this is crazy. We can’t just—”

“Why not?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “She’s offering us $50,000, YN! Do you know how much that would help us? We could pay off our debts, finally get out of this dump—”

“So you’re okay with selling me off like some kind of property?” he shot back, his voice filled with disbelief.

Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like that, YN. This is just… practical. We both need the money. And it’s not like you’d hate it. You seemed pretty into her last night.”

Her words cut deeper than he expected. “That’s not the point,” he protested, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to cheat on you, Mia. I only agreed because you pushed me to!”

Mia’s expression hardened. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, YN. I saw the way you looked at her.”

YN felt like the walls were closing in around him. “This isn’t fair,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mia crossed her arms over her chest, her resolve unshakable. “Life isn’t fair, YN. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices. And if this is what it takes for us to get ahead, then so be it.”

His heart shattered at her words. He had always thought Mia loved him, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Fine,” he said bitterly, his voice cold. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll go. But don’t expect me to come back.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out the door, leaving Mia staring after him in stunned silence.

The streets blurred as YN walked aimlessly, his mind numb. He didn’t know where else to go, so eventually, he found himself standing outside Giselle’s penthouse again. Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked on the door.

Giselle opened it almost immediately, as if she had been expecting him. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, but then they softened as she took in his disheveled appearance.

“You look terrible,” she said gently, stepping aside to let him in.

YN didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He just walked past her, his shoulders slumped.

Giselle closed the door behind him, her expression thoughtful. “Did you talk to Mia?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

He nodded, still unable to speak. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

Giselle approached him slowly, her movements deliberate. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice sincere. “But you made the right choice.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her that he hadn’t chosen anything, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, too exhausted to fight anymore.

Giselle smiled softly, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Let me take care of you,” she whispered, her tone soothing. “You don’t have to think about anything else. Just be here, with me.”

Her words were like a balm to his wounded soul, and despite himself, he felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a gentle kiss. It was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the passion of the previous night.

But then, something shifted. Giselle deepened the kiss, her hands moving to grip his waist. YN’s body responded instinctively, his own hands tangling in her hair as their kisses grew more fervent.

She pulled back slightly, her breathing heavy. “I want you to forget about her,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Forget about everything except for me.”

YN’s heart raced as Giselle led him to the bedroom, her touch igniting a fire within him. She pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a predatory grace that made his breath catch.

Her hands roamed over his body, removing his clothes with practiced ease. She leaned down, her lips trailing along his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “You’re mine now, YN,” she whispered against his skin, her voice possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never regret it.”

He gasped as she positioned herself above him, her heat pressing against his length. She lowered herself onto him slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully buried inside her.

Giselle moaned softly, her head falling back as she began to move, rocking her hips in a rhythm that drove him wild. Her nails dug into his chest, marking him as hers. “Feel good?” she purred, her voice teasing.

YN could only nod, his breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coursed through him. He gripped her hips, guiding her movements, wanting—needing—to feel more.

She leaned forward, her lips capturing his in a searing kiss as she increased her pace. Her breasts pressed against his chest, driving him closer to the edge. “Cum for me, YN,” she commanded, her voice husky with desire.

He obeyed without hesitation, his release washing over him in waves. Giselle followed shortly after, her body shuddering as she cried out his name.

As they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath, Giselle stroked his hair, her touch gentle. “I’ll never hurt you like she did,” she promised, her voice soft but firm. “You’re mine now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”

YN didn’t respond. He just closed his eyes, letting her words sink in. For better or worse, his life had changed forever. And as much as it scared him, part of him felt relieved, knowing that Giselle would never leave him.

She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin. “Sleep now,” she murmured. “Tomorrow is a new beginning.”

The next morning, Giselle woke YN with a soft kiss on his lips. He stirred, blinking awake to find her already dressed, her hair perfectly styled, and that confident smirk playing on her face. “Good morning, my love,” she purred, her voice dripping with possessiveness. YN sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, still trying to process the whirlwind of the last 24 hours.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Giselle sat beside him on the bed, her fingers brushing against his cheek. “I have something special planned for today,” she said, her tone teasing. “But first, we need to make sure you’re truly mine.”

YN didn’t have time to respond before she leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her hands roamed his body, waking every nerve with a fire that made him forget everything else. They tangled together once more, their bodies moving in sync as if they’d been lovers for years. Giselle took control, guiding him with a mix of dominance and tenderness that left YN breathless.

When it was over, they lay there, skin pressed together, hearts racing. Giselle propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. “You’re perfect,” she whispered, tracing a finger along his jawline. “And now you’re mine—completely.”

Later that evening, Giselle led YN into the VIP room of the same club where their story had begun. She walked with purpose, her arm looped through his, her heels clicking against the polished floor. When they entered, Mia was already there, sitting in the corner, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Giselle’s smirk widened as she guided YN to the plush sofa in the center of the room, seating him beside her like a prized possession.

Mia looked up, her heart breaking as she saw YN sitting so close to Giselle, their bodies almost touching. Giselle reached out, playfully tousling YN’s hair, her fingers lingering against his scalp. “Isn’t he just adorable?” she cooed, her voice loud enough for Mia to hear.

YN shifted uncomfortably, but Giselle’s grip tightened, keeping him in place. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering just long enough to make Mia’s stomach twist. “Thank you for giving him to me,” Giselle said sweetly, her gaze flickering to Mia. “He’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

Mia clenched her fists, tears streaming down her face. “How could you do this, YN?” she choked out, her voice trembling. YN opened his mouth to respond, but Giselle silenced him with a finger to his lips.

“Oh, don’t blame him,” she said, her tone mockingly sympathetic. “He’s just being practical. After all, $50,000 is a lot of money. And now… well, let’s just say he’s landed in much better hands.”

Giselle turned back to YN, her eyes softening as she reached into her purse. She pulled out a small velvet box and opened it to reveal a sleek black diamond ring. “This is for you,” she said, sliding it onto his finger. “A little something to remind you who you belong to.”

YN stared at the ring, the weight of it heavier than the metal itself. It felt like a shackle, binding him to Giselle in a way he couldn’t escape. Giselle smiled, clearly pleased with his reaction. “There. Now everyone will know you’re taken.”

Mia stood abruptly, unable to take any more. “I can’t watch this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. But Giselle wasn’t done yet.

“Oh, don’t leave,” she called out, her tone light and teasing. “We wouldn’t want you to miss the best part.” With a wave of her hand, she signaled to one of her bodyguards, who quickly closed the doors to the VIP room, locking Mia inside.

Giselle giggled, the sound high and melodic, as she turned back to YN. “Now, where were we?” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him deeply. Her hands wandered, exploring his body with practiced ease, while YN found himself unable to resist her touch.

Mia sank back into her seat, her sobs muffled by her hands. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as the sight of YN with Giselle shattered her heart into pieces. Giselle pulled back from the kiss, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she glanced over at Mia. “Pathetic,” she muttered under her breath before returning her attention to YN.

“Let’s give her something to remember,” Giselle whispered into YN’s ear, her breath hot against his skin. Before he could protest, she straddled him, her dress riding up as she settled into his lap. YN’s hands instinctively went to her hips, gripping her tightly as she began to move against him.

Mia covered her ears, trying to block out the sounds that filled the room, but it was no use. Every moan, every gasp, every whispered word from Giselle burned into her memory. Giselle’s laughter echoed in the air, dark and triumphant, as she claimed YN in the most intimate way possible.

When it was over, Giselle stayed in YN’s lap for a moment longer, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. She kissed him once more, slow and deliberate, before finally getting to her feet.

She straightened her dress and turned to Mia, her expression cold and unflinching. “You should go now,” she said, her voice devoid of any warmth. “You’ve seen enough.”

Mia nodded numbly, stumbling toward the door. One of the bodyguards opened it for her, and she stepped out into the club, the noise and lights overwhelming after the intensity of the VIP room.

As the door closed behind her, Giselle turned back to YN, her smile returning. “Finally,” she said, sighing contentedly. “Now we can focus on us.”

She sat beside him again, snuggling close as she played with the black diamond ring on his finger. “Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered, her voice soothing. “I’ll take care of you. Always.”

YN didn’t respond. He just stared at the ring, the weight of it heavy on his hand. His life was irrevocably changed, and there was no going back. As Giselle rested her head on his shoulder, he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“Forever,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re mine forever.”

- The End -

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Text

Stealing Moments from Time

Summary: When Ekko decides to use his Zero Drive to craft the "perfect" day for you, things don’t go entirely as planned. Between chaotic time travel mishaps, watery disasters, and a rooftop confession, you realize that imperfection might be what makes everything perfect after all.

Tags: Ekko x Reader, Fluff, Crack fic, Time Travel Shenanigans, Banter, Rooftop Confessions, Found Family Vibes, Light Angst (Happy Ending), Humor.

Warnings: Mild language, Brief mention of getting wet/messy (falling into water), Ekko being a lovable dork, Reader teasing Ekko.

You squinted at the contraption on Ekko’s workbench, tilting your head as if a different angle might make it less intimidating. “Okay, so you’re telling me this thing can reverse time?”

Ekko grinned, leaning casually on the edge of the bench, his goggles perched on his forehead. “Not just reverse time, perfectly recalibrate it. It’s a work of genius, really. I mean, look who made it.” He gestured to himself, smug as ever.

You folded your arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Right. Because last time you tested it, you didn’t accidentally erase three hours and get stuck reliving Vi slapping you on repeat.”

His grin faltered for a second, but he quickly masked it with a laugh. “That was… a minor calibration issue.”

You snorted. “Minor. Sure. So, what’s the big plan now, Dr. Clockwork? More experiments?”

“Not exactly,” Ekko replied, his tone turning softer. He straightened and stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, I was thinking I could, uh, use it for something else today.”

Your teasing expression melted. “Oh? Like what?”

Ekko hesitated, his hands fidgeting with his work gloves. “I thought maybe we could… hang out? Somewhere that isn’t the workshop or a battle zone. Y’know, like normal people.”

“Normal people don’t time travel for fun, Ekko,” you quipped, but your heart fluttered at his sudden nervousness. He wasn’t usually like this—so unsure of himself.

“Yeah, but normal’s boring, isn’t it?” He finally met your gaze, his usual cocky smirk making a triumphant return. “So what do you say? I can use the Zero Drive to make sure our day’s absolutely perfect. No awkward moments, no bad jokes—”

“Wait, you think your jokes are bad?” you interrupted, feigning shock.

“Focus!” He grabbed your shoulders gently, shaking you with mock urgency. “I’m trying to be romantic here!”

You burst into laughter, swatting his hands away. “Alright, fine, time boy. Where are we going?”

Ekko beamed, grabbing his goggles and securing them over his eyes. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

Ten minutes later, you were both soaked, standing ankle-deep in the murky water of Zaun’s lower levels.

“Trust me, he says,” you muttered, glaring at Ekko as water dripped from your hair. “It’ll be fun, he says.”

“Okay, in my defense,” Ekko started, holding his hands up in surrender, “this wasn’t supposed to happen. The platform was stable a second ago!”

“Sure it was,” you deadpanned, wringing out the hem of your jacket.

“Alright, alright,” Ekko said, fiddling with the Zero Drive on his wrist. “I’ll fix it. Just give me one sec.”

He pressed a button, and a blue glow surrounded him. With a flash, he disappeared��and a second later, the platform reappeared, solid and dry.

“See?” Ekko said, grinning as he popped back into existence. “Problem solved!”

You blinked. “Uh, not quite.”

He frowned. “What do you—”

A loud splash interrupted him as you shoved him off the platform and into the water.

Ekko resurfaced with a gasp, his goggles askew. “Oh, you’re dead,” he growled, but the laugh bubbling in his throat betrayed him.

“Catch me if you can, time wizard!” you shouted, already running up the rickety staircase.

Ekko grinned, shaking his head. “Oh, it’s on.”

The rest of the day was a chaotic blur of laughter, near-misses, and Ekko occasionally rewinding time to avoid disaster. By the end of it, you were both sprawled out on a rooftop, watching the lights of Piltover twinkle above.

“That,” you said between breaths, “was the most fun I’ve had in… forever.”

Ekko turned to you, his eyes soft. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “But next time, no time travel, okay? Just us.”

Ekko chuckled, resting his head on his arms. “Deal. But only if you promise to stop shoving me into gross water.”

“No promises,” you teased, leaning closer.

He smirked, reaching up to flick your forehead lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

“Yeah,” Ekko said quietly, his voice losing its usual bravado. “Yeah, I do.”

Your cheeks flushed, but before you could reply, he spoke again.

“Now, uh, don’t make this awkward, but I may have rewound this moment a couple of times to get it right,” he admitted sheepishly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Ekko!”

“What?!”

“That’s so cheating!”

“Hey, I told you, I wanted it to be perfect!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, time boy.”

Ekko grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

And for once, you let him have the last word.

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steddieas-shegoes · 21 hours ago

Text

real proud

for @steddiemicrofic January prompt ‘new’

rated t | 517 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, everybody lives, good uncle Wayne Munson, established relationship, fluff

🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻🛻

“I gotta tell ya, I ain’t never had a new car before. All of mine’ve been hand me downs and extra loved,” Wayne says as he stares at the shiny truck sitting in the driveway. “This is real nice.”

Wayne walks around to inspect it while Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand nervously. Eddie didn’t even want to spend his government money, felt like it was only given out of pity and he hates pity. But his van is beyond repair and it wouldn’t have lasted much longer even if they could have fixed it, so Steve suggested he go find something he likes.

And what he liked most happened to be a new version of the first truck he remembers Wayne having. Wayne doesn’t seem to realize that part yet. He’ll get there, though.

“I wanted to find a van, but the ones they had weren’t the right ones for the band. This one can hold most of our stuff and they gave me a deal on a cover for the bed,” Eddie explains.

Steve squeezes his hand again.

“It’s good,” he mouths at Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t even know why he’s this nervous. Maybe because he’s never made any major life decision without talking to Wayne. Maybe because he thinks Wayne will be jealous. Maybe because a part of him still feels gross for using the pity money while Wayne has his stashed away.

Wayne opens the driver’s side door and whistles.

“You better not smoke in this beauty,” he yells as he sits on the leather seat. “Or eat. I’ve got some wax for leather seats I can give ya to keep these nice.”

Eddie finally lets go of Steve’s hand and gets in the passenger seat. Wayne’s messing with the radio even though the engine’s still off. The key’s in the ignition if he wants to test drive, and Eddie’s almost positive he’ll want to.

“This is nice, Ed.”

Eddie looks over at Wayne, who’s smiling at him like he’s-

“I’m real proud of ya.”

Eddie bursts into tears.

He’s been a tad emotional since they started weaning him from the meds he’s been on for months in the hospital and during physical therapy and regular therapy. He’ll cry over some of the most ridiculous things.

It’s not like Wayne hasn’t said that to him before. Wayne’s always proud of him, tells him so often enough.

Eddie just didn’t know if this was the right thing to do, even with Steve by his side telling him it was, even with the dealership people telling him it was, even with the kids telling him he needs to suck it up and get a new car.

If Wayne approves, it’s the right thing.

Steve is standing outside the passenger door, smiling at them as Wayne pulls Eddie into his side.

“You know I’ve been thinkin’,” he says to both of them. “It’s about time I spent that money they gave me.”

“Yeah?” Eddie sniffles.

“Been lookin’ at a house just outside of Hawkins. “Got plenty of room for all of us.”

“Wait. Even me?” Steve asks.

“Even you.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #steddie events #steve harrington x eddie munson

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bullet-prooflove · 2 days ago

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A black leather jacket, A bad reputation, Insatiable habits

Tagging: @kmc1989 @claymoresofinfamy23 @mandy426 @nellabear @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

Summer - No one knows what Logan gets up to during the summer break.

There have always been rumours about Logan Howlett, about the fact he sweeps into Alberta in the June, disappearing again in the early September in that beat up pickup truck of his. They say the land his cabin is built on is cursed, the burnt out shell of the farm house haunted by the ghosts of the family that used to live there, the one he still belongs to.

There are rumours about you too, the fiddle player that came for the Calgary Stampede and never really left. They say you’re running from something in that life but no one can ascertain what or who.

“Sometimes a rumour is just a rumour.” You tell him one night during your third year together, his lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat as he helps you out of that black leather jacket, the one you’re wearing over that pretty yellow summer dress.

“And sometimes rumours have teeth.” He reminds you, his own nipping lightly at your jugular. You cry out at the sensation, head tipping back as his arm loops around your waist keeping you pressed against him. “If you’re in trouble...”

“I’m not.” You promise him, your hands tangling in his flannel shirt, the fabric bunching tightly in your fists. “But I would really like to get into some.”

Liar, he thinks but you’re entitled to your secrets, after all Logan has some too.

He spends the entire night, taking you apart. Long, hard strokes that have you scratching up his back, decadent kisses with just enough bite to push him right over the edge. As soon as it stops, it starts all over again because that healing factor, it comes with a short refractory period and he utilises it to his fullest advantage.

He leaves you sleeping in the morning, tangled up naked in his sheets, splayed across the mattress on your stomach. Your hair is wild, clashing against the colour of his pillow cases, burnished copper amidst a sea of blue.

There’s this feeling in his chest, it writhes inside of him, setting his nerves on edge as he heads outside to chop logs for woodburner. He knows without a shadow of a doubt you’re being hunted, that it might take a couple of years but that trouble you deny being into, it’ll come for you. It always does.

“My number.” He says, handing you a scrap of paper as he lingers outside his pickup truck when September comes around and it’s time to say goodbye. “If you need me.”

You both know what that really means but you don’t acknowledge it, that would mean admitting to something you’re not ready for just yet and he won’t push you. When you do tell him he wants it to come from a place of trust not obligation.

“What if I just want to hear the sound of your voice?” You ask him with a teasing lilt as you fold it the paper in half and slip it into the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Use the number.” He murmurs, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile as he tucks a wayward strand of hair back behind your ear. “I’ll get you exactly where you need to go.”

Love Logan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#logan howlett #logan wolverine #james howlett #wolverine #logan x reader #james logan howlett #woverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men #xmen movies #wolverine x reader

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velvetvexations · 1 day ago

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I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?

Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao

strangely people understand that when it's about trans women

just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.

they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!

Nazi imagery anon here

These are the pics I was referring to.

As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(

yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath

as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first

You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing

they aren't even trying

It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-

Tumblr...is really bad.

I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.

exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything

So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point

rambling is okay anon <3

„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”

i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!

that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first

#transandro phobia #trans radical feminism #discourse

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pinkberrytea · 2 days ago

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midnight blue 🌙

Round, radiant and casting a creamy white halo, the moon stands before them proudly, imposingly, a celestial pearl in a sea of stars.

Diana may be too perceptive for her own good, but Astarion is no less insightful; he has a suprise for her, one she will not soon forget.

Spawn Astarion x Named F!Tav (Diana)

w/c: 1.5k words . spotify playlist . dividers

a/n: happy new year! this fic is a gift for @amoremagnificentbastard as part of our server's secret santa exchange. i was so excited that i got to write for diana, but also pretty intimidated since i feel like that's a huge responsibility! i hope i was able to do her justice. if you haven't read amy's distarion fics, please do yourself a favor and go read them already, i promise you won't be disappointed! i'd like to again thank @xxnashiraxx for her invaluable support; she was there holding my hand ever since the drafting stages, and i couldn't have done this without her. i love you friendo!

tags: hurt & comfort; fluff & angst

“How much farther, Astarion? I’m freezing,” the young priestess says, arms wrapped around herself in an unsuccessful effort to shield her shivering body from the harsh winter cold. Her coppery curls bounce with each step, the late night silence broken only by the howling wind and the crunch of snow underfoot. What was she thinking, indulging him when he insisted that they go on a “light hike”? Although in truth, denying him never came to her naturally, and it only seemed to become harder with every passing day; not that he made things any easier, but the amount of incentive required for Diana to submit to her lover’s whims had dropped to dangerously low levels in the past few months, much to her dismay.

“We’re almost there, darling.” Astarion’s face creases into a smuggish simper, and he stops, holding out a hand while waiting for her to catch up to him. “I thought you had snowfall in Amn?” he asks, voice laced with a playful lilt and eyebrows quirked upwards in feigned surprise. Diana pouts, forehead wrinkling with annoyance, acquiescing though begrudgingly and intertwining her fingers with his outstretched ones; as soon as she does, he pulls her to him and sneaks an arm around her shoulders, which doesn’t really help with the cold considering his own lack of natural heat, and yet the familiarity of his embrace brings her comfort anyway.

“We do. Just not like this,” she mutters, her softening frown betraying the disgruntled tone with which the words leave her lips. He plants a loving kiss on her temple before picking up the pace, and it doesn’t take long for the indigo sky to start peeking out through the dense foliage of the towering trees surrounding them, adorned with a glimmering blanket of twinkling stars.

“There. Just behind that rock,” Astarion says, pointing to the rocky outcrop at the end of the path they’d been following. Diana scrunches up her nose, disdain crafting her cerulean irises into a frustrated stare, but before she can protest, he squeezes her arm reassuringly and meets her gaze with rounded, almost pleading eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?”

The priestess is briefly taken aback, blinking slowly as if thinking of what to say; once enough time has passed, she lets out an exasperated sigh, hunching in defeat. “I do. You know I do. But gods, Astarion, climbing a rock? In the middle of the night? In this weather? That’s a big ask even for me,” she retorts, brushing her hair to one side, though the warmth radiating from her voice and the subtle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth tell a different story—one where he emerges victorious.

“I know, sweet girl. Thank the gods I have such a patient, understanding lover, hm?” he purrs, clearly pleased with himself. Diana sighs again, and without first shooting him a disapproving glance, she lets him guide her to the base of the rugged boulder. The night is bright enough that even her human eyes are able to make out all the ridges and crevices she’s supposed to use as leverage to reach the top, but still, Astarion steps forward and takes the lead, pulling her up as he slowly claws his way to the summit.

“Careful, darling.” Taking her hand in his, he watches her feet to make sure she’s keeping herself steady. The phantoms of days past rush through her mind as they inch closer to their intended destination, and in the minutes that follow, it’s as if they’re still lost in the wilderness with a mind flayer tadpole lodged within the recesses of their brains, a promise of ceremorphosis that would never come to be. They had climbed many a rock back then, though never during the night—their life together in the sun now feels like a distant dream, a wistful memory.

“Do you ever regret it?” Diana asks, her voice small, hushed, no louder than a whisper; they both lie naked in their shared bed, Astarion with his pectorals pressed flat against her back, one arm folded possessively around her hip. The sunlight casts dancing shadows from behind the tightly drawn curtains, almost teasingly, caressing the pure white sheets with ghostly brushes of its long, splaying fingers. His closed eyes twitch in acknowledgement of her question, but he remains quiet for a while; when she is finally convinced he has fallen back into a trance, he then suddenly breaks the silence, cold lips vibrating against the warm skin of her shoulder as he speaks.

“Regret what, darling?” The tone with which he articulates each word is remarkably gentle, tentative, even. She doesn’t reply immediately, trying to first contend with the inevitable pang in her chest, searching for the source of it, much as it eludes her. This happiness, this halcyon bliss, why does she think herself not entitled to it? Why does it cause such guilt to bloom in the depths of her heart? No matter how many times he reassures her, it seems her soul can’t be so easily swayed—they did the right thing, of that there is no doubt, but none of it holds any weight when she isn’t the one struggling with the consequences; when he’s the one sentenced to spend the rest of his days in darkness, never again to feel the sun on his face, never again to feels its soothing heat.

“Nothing. Forget it.” And just like that, Diana once more closes that door before it’s even opened. Truth be told, she’s terrified she won’t be able to seal it back shut; she’s terrified that whatever is hiding behind it will cause her fragile reverie to shatter into a thousand pieces, crumble into dust and dissolve in the ground beneath her feet. She’s afraid, so afraid—of losing him, of losing them, of losing everything.

Everything.

“My love?”

The silky sound of Astarion’s voice brings Diana back to the present, and she jerks her head up to look at him, eyes large and mouth slightly agape. With an eyebrow raised quizzically, he chooses to shrug her reaction off rather than dwell on it, propping himself with both arms to finally leap over the edge of the boulder; he then helps her do the same, and before long the two are standing on the highest point of the hill, hands still locked together.

“So? What do you think?” Astarion asks, staring at her expectantly, appearing almost boyish for a few fleeting moments. She returns his gaze with confusion coloring her expression, but shortly afterwards, his meaning at last becomes clear—a quick turn of her face reveals the reason why they have hiked all the way up to this place, and no sooner than such revelation is brought to light, Diana feels the threat of tears prickle her long lashes.

The full moon.

“By the Moonmaiden’s grace, Astarion… it’s beautiful,” she whispers, bringing a hand to her own quivering lips. Round, radiant and casting a creamy white halo, the moon stands before them proudly, imposingly, a celestial pearl in a sea of stars. It shines so intensely that the landscape splaying below them is fully visible to the naked eye, every tree, every stream, every stone and every flower laid completely bare, stripped from their shadowy secrets. It’s the wee hours, and yet it might as well be noon.

“You know, darling, when you made no mention of the usual request for a pint of milk with the full moon quickly approaching, I really began to worry.” Though his mouth curls up into a smirk, Astarion speaks with apologetic softness, his crimson irises gleaming affectionately. Using his free hand, he tucks an unruly lock of auburn hair behind Diana’s ear; softly brushing the pads of his elegant fingers against her cheek, he then cups it gently, gazing upon her with dreamy tenderness. “Whatever is afflicting you, my dear, we can work through it together. You need not keep it to yourself.”

The tears welling up in the priestess’ eyes finally roll down her now flushed face, leaving a glistening wet trail in their wake. Of course, how could she have been so foolish? Words are not required—she understands it now. One has no need for the sun when they are loved by the moon; one has no need for sunshine when they have the pale, forgiving glow of the Lady of Silver’s moonbeams illuminating the path forward. Astarion is not sentenced to live in darkness—not while Diana remains by his side, not while she is there to bathe him in light, warmth, and life.

Life. With everything it has to offer.

“I love you.”

Their lips touch before their eyelids close, and for a split second they’re each able to see the tiny flecks floating around the others’ pupils, swimming in pools of blood and moonlight. Diana wraps her arms around Astarion’s neck, and he wraps his around her waist; her tears taste salty on his tongue, his breath feels cool against her skin. The winter moon watches them warmly from its place amid the stars, cradling them in its soft embrace; it’s going to be okay. They’re going to be okay. Maybe not forever—maybe not even for long, but right now, all is well, and so it shall remain, until dawn breaks, painting the sky midnight blue.

#personal #astarion #bg3 #astarion x tav #bg3 fic #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #tavstarion #my fics #my art

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hyperfocusthusly · 3 days ago

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First lines of 2025 🥳

Tagged by @bidisasterevankinard & @perfectlysunny02 🫶🏻 I don’t think I’ll be able to keep on top of writing everyday, but I’m certainly aiming to write more than I did last year! So you can have a bit of the first scene I wrote this year 😘

—-

“I can’t-” he stops, face twisting down in a frown. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. A-and I’m sorry if I’ve been making it harder by not talking to you about it. I’ve just, just been trying to get it straight in my head but I don’t know-” he glances down at the picture frame again.

“I don’t know what’s real, like I can see that that is me but it doesn’t feel like it’s me.” Buck starts to pull his arm away, he can see where this is going. It doesn’t feel like me, you don’t feel like me. Why would I stay with someone I can’t remember? I think it’s best for us to go our separate ways. Buck braces himself.

—-

From Forget Me Not

Np tags; @epiphainie @leashybebes @actuallyitsellie @livelaughlou @theotherbuckley @loucifersbitch @typicalopposite @comfortingevanbuckley @wikiangela

#not that this will go anywhere because aparrently 2025 means a broken tag system #but enjoy anyway 🫶🏻#bucktommy #911 #my writing #forget me not #amnesia fic

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shygirl4991 · 1 day ago

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Six Splits For Four Chap 3 Discourse

All art is done by @b-r-i-n-g-x be sure to check out her other stuff! Please do not repost art!

Next Chapter Last Chapter

Tags: Action/Adventure, Romance, fluff, angst with a happy ending!, blood, character death, injury, SMG34 is canon, split au

The princely SMG4 smiles brightly at Three as he checks over the man “I’m glad to see my fair maiden is okay!” SMG3 felt his face go into a darker shade of red the longer he was held, unable to handle it. Three starts waving his arms “OKAY YES PUT ME DOWN YOU BAKA!” The personality gently puts Three down, once his feet touch the floor he slides away from the princely personality. Still red in the face he slowly checks the papers before handing them over to Producer, Four stands in shock seeing the fourth member “How…Three?!”

Three frowns looking at the personality “And you are?” the personality giggles lightly tapping his head “Where are my manners, I’m Prince 4! The heroic side of the original, I'm the one that makes the risky moves to protect our loved ones.” Four walks over to Three feeling sick “Didn't you say you only had three?” SMG3 looks at the personalities and frowns “Yeah…i don't know how you got four, if there are more than three then we need to know how many of you guys are there.” Four nervously look at his personalities as they exchange looks, Ringmaster nods taking center stage “There are six of us taking the stage! It was certainly a mess, before you ask I have no idea where the others are.” Three’s eyes go wide as he looks at Four, it was official that Four was going to vomit. Four walked away from the group, worried, Three walked over to his boyfriend “Hey blue? It won't be that bad, together we can figure out what's going on.” Four faces Three with grey eyes “Am i broken? You only had three…does that mean there is something wrong with me?” Three frowns as he grabs Four “Shut the fuck up right now, you’re SMG4 popular youtuber with all the friends a person could ask for. There is nothing about you broken you hear me, you might have just been feeling a lot of emotions at the time of the split.” Slowly Four’s blue eyes return as he hugs Three, the man sighs as he hugs him back. The personalities smile softly at the sight, remembering the others Three pulls away letting out a small cough “Right, now Prince can you help us find the final two?” Prince smiles softly as he takes Three’s hand giving it a kiss. Three's face goes bright red as he does his best to keep his composer, SMG4 smirks at Three seeing the man's face so red “Not a word scrub.”

Prince smiles lovingly at Three “Of course my love, i was actually sent here by Parent to find help. That's when I noticed our maiden in danger and I had to act. I almost forgot about the message he gave me!” Three sighs as he inches away from Prince, taking a deep breath he plays with the heart pin. Prince takes out a note and smiles “Prince remember to tell the others that i need help, while i was busy helping Karen the treasure we both were watching over has run away.” Three and Four look at Prince confused as the other personalities gasp. The reaction made the pair nervous as they exchanged a look before Four grabs the paper, Prince frowns from the rude interaction. Slowly anger could be seen in Four’s eyes, his blue eyes having a tint of pink. He storms off taking the group by surprise, Three gently takes Producer’s hand and smiles at him before looking at the others “Knowing how he is when angry i think it's best we follow now!”

As the group went after Four there was one thing bothering Three, the hint of pink in Four eyes gave him a strange feeling. They finally caught up to Four only to see him walking up to a green version of himself, Parent turns and notices the crew. Before Four can grab his green version, the man ran past him right toward SMG3. He shakes his head as he opens his fanny pack “My word Honey, you need to watch over that beautiful face of yours!” He takes out an alcohol wipe and starts cleaning a cut on Three’s face. His eyes go wide as pink dust his cheeks again, Parent hums cleaning the wound then covering it with a spinning fish bandage.

Parent gave Three a soft smile before being dragged away by Four “Parent?” he spits out, seeing the anger in his original eyes makes him nervous. “Ah Prince read the letter to you…PRINCE WAS SUPPOSED TO WATCH THE KIDS!” Three’s eyes go wide at Parent’s words as he turns to Prince “Hey Romeo, what the hell did he mean by that?” Prince stares at Parent , showing him an expression of betrayal. Prince takes a step back seeing Three getting angry “My gem please listen! Parent took Beeg and Eggdog out to play, he then said Karen needed help with her kids. He told me to watch the little ones, the only thing is when he told me that the children were already gone!” Three’s face turns from anger to panic as he grabs Four pulling him away from his green personality, seeing the panic on his boyfriend's face snaps Four out of his anger.

Parent frowns as he looks around at the group “There are a good amount of us, how about we split up the gang!” Prince nods in excitement while Artist and Ringmaster glare at each other, hearing this plan Four looks at the group as his eyes turn green. Four takes Artist hand and pairs him up with Prince, Ringmaster gets to partner up with Parent leaving Producer with Three. He smiles at the pair up before Three speaks up “Alright and who will you be with?” Four looks at the pairs then waves his hand “Don't worry i can handle this alone, who knows i might even bump into our last friend!” The personalities share a nervous look before nodding and separating, once everyone was out of sight Four’s eyes go back to blue. He lets out a sigh as he walks on his own, he needs space from everyone and wraps his head around everything. He had six versions of himself running wild into the world, not to mention a missing meme child. He wondered how on earth Three handled everything, he couldn't even believe Three was handling so many versions of himself. His eyes start flickering different colors as his mixed emotions screams at him, without thinking he walks back to the showgrounds. “This is just like everything else Four, just deep breath and smile. Just like everything else, just wash it down your back and move forward!”

As he cheers for himself in front of Three’s cafe he hears a chuckle, he turns to see the front door of the cafe broken down “Who's there!?” He glares at the cafe till he hears an excited bark, Four relaxes for a moment confused “Eggdog?” The pup hearing his name running out excited to see him. Four giggles picking up Eggdog, remembering the voice he slowly walks in. His eyes go grey as his anxiety starts to take over, he gasps seeing who was at the cafe. It was him in orange wearing a cloak, he looked bored as he sipped a cup of tea. Nervously Four decides to ask the question. Three always asked “Who are you, what part of me?” The orange Four sighs into his cup “Is that important? Aren't you busy sucking face with that backstabber?”

Four takes a step back surprised, he then notices Beeg on the counter eating ice cream. Four sighs reaching for the ice cream only to get threatened by the child, Four gives a nervous smile as the orange Four watches him. “If you need a name to call me by the others call me Delinquent or D for short, personally i don't care what you call me.” He sips his tea before speaking up again. “What I am doesn't matter, I can feel your rejection.” He gets up and leaves the cafe, seeing this Four puts down Eggdog next to Beeg. Once outside the cafe Four reaches out to Delinquent “Wait!” Both men pause hearing Three “Alright i hear you boys, is Four in that bad of shape?” Four smiles seeing Three on the path to the showgrounds with the others, his smile drops seeing his personality’s look at him with wide eyes “Original!” They all tackle him down for a group hug. Delinquent takes a side step to avoid the affection, Three looks around and sees Beeg and Eggdog watching the hug. He smiles feeling relief that his son was safe, that's when his eyes locked into orange ones. Three nods “So you're the missing one, nice to me-” Delinquent scoffs not letting Three finish talking “I don't need to hear words from a backstabber.”

The group hug ended the moment the crew heard Delinquents words, Parent gets up frowning at him “Now D thats no way to treat our boyfriend, he's not that man anymore.” Ringmaster nods as he walks over to Three putting his arm around the man “Yeah that's the fans favorite arc, it makes the shippers go wild!” Delinquent crosses his arms looking Three up and down, then he looks at Four. He rolls his eyes, he turns from the group “Not going to listen to a failure of a leader and a man with so much ego he can't keep it in check.” SMG4, getting sick of the attitude of his personality, stands up glaring at him “What is your problem? You have been nothing but an asshole pushing us all away!” Delinquent shrugs “Who knows, maybe you're just not happy looking in the mirror.” Three reaches out to Delinquent only for the man to walk away, his hair touching Three’s gloves. Three frowns looking at his hand “huh? Ink?” looking at his glove a strange black stain was on it. He sniffs the stain and stares confused by the chemical scent, Four sighs watching Delinquent walk away. He turns and gives a small smile at the others “How did you all know?”

Producer smiles “We felt you, there was a moment we all were connected. T-that's when we knew you needed help.” Four smiles at Producer before it clicked that he never got to learn who Parent or Delinquent were, he turns and gives a sheepish smile “Sorry that we started off pretty rough, want to give us your introduction?” Parent giggles as he walks over to the kids patting their heads “That's okay our kids are more important. Ahem as you know im Parent, I'm your parental side and I'm also the leader of the group!” Three walks next to Four looking at the group, things have turned completely different from what happened to him. He peeks a quick look at Four, he knew the idiot for a long time to know that Four is about ready to scream into the void. “Hey everyone, could you all stay at the castle and wait till we return. I have something important to talk about with Four.” The group give him a thumbs up as they walk toward the castle, Ringmaster twirls his cane as they walk to their home “At least we are all together again, no thanks to your leadership Parent.” Parent stops walking as his face drops. “Haha you're funny, if it wasn't for my leadership we wouldn't have found the kids!” Parent forces out a smile as Producer frowns and shyly looks at him “Didn't D and our Original find the kids,” Producer plays with his sleeves “we failed them so badly…oh memes do you think he hates us now?!” Artist gently pats his back “Are you squidding me? He doesn't hate us, if anything he seemed really happy to see us back there!” As the group chatted happily, Parent stayed a few steps back staring at them “Nothing but a failure huh?”

Three turns to Four blushing as he shyly pulls the man close to him “No one is around but me, you don't have to keep the act up Baka.” Four’s eyes go wide as his vision blurs from his tears, he hugs Three as he cries into the man's chest. Three rubs Fours back “Nothing is wrong with you, together we will figure out what caused this. We will fix this after all someone like me managed to do it, there is no way the great SMG4 cant.” Four lets out a giggle as he pulls away wiping his tears “Wow never thought i hear those words from you.” Three’s face turns a darker shade of red “Shut it or I'm leaving you here with your snot!’ Four laughs harder as he leans forward giving a kiss on Three's cheek, feeling the kiss Three let himself smile and laugh alongside Four. While they don't know how they will manage six personalities, they were confident they would figure it out as long as they had each other.

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg4 au #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #split into threes #six splits for four #split au #b r i n g x

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elleluvsjurin · 2 days ago

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School Rules

requested

synopsis: you’re the bitter ex who loves starting shit with the class president and vice president, one of them happening to be your ex gf. after a while, they put an end to your shit once and for all

pairings: ryujin x fem reader x yeji

cw: smut, reader is a mean girl, cursing, made ryujin kinda mean but she’s mean for a reason, reader gets slut out; lmk if i missed anything

wc: 1.6k

tags: @her-utahimee

It's been 3 months since Yeji has dumped you. Of course you were still pissed about the whole situation. Oh, and when you found that her and her best friend won for class president and vice president, it was going to be game over for those two…so you thought. At first, it was simple things like smoking cigarettes on school grounds. Then, it was crashing their planned events with your friends and now..the rumors. Of course you went and spread a rumor that they were sleeping together, it was the cherry on top of it all and EVERYONE was eating it up.

“yej.. get your fucking ex. I'm sick of her ass. Did you see what she posted online about us?” Ryujin frustratedly asks, slamming the classroom door.

“Listen, i’m going to try and talk to her but her friends are doing stuff along with her-” Yeji starts

“-yeah, well y/n’s the fucking ring leader. And if you don’t get her shit straight then I WILL!” Ryujin interrupts Yeji in a fit of rage. Yeji massages her temples with her fingers because she knows that you won’t go down without a fight. She pulls her phone out and dials your number, of course you answer after a couple of rings.

“What could you possibly want Hwang Yeji?” you ask over the phone

“We need to talk, could you please come over after school?” she asks, quietly. You smirk over the phone before you reply.

“Talk about what?” you ask innocently and she mutes herself before putting you on speaker. “You caused this, Yeji, not me.”

“God y/n, just come over.” Yeji spoke as Ryujin rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“‘Mmkay, only because it’s you. And tell that dog ass friend of yours not to come, she’s mean as fuck.” you add onto the convo. “You know where I live, I’ll see you later.” Yeji abruptly says before hanging up on you.

“Ugh I hate that bitch.” Ryujin mutters whilst writing down a few plans for the student council.

“Don’t worry, she won’t be doing anything else after tonight.” Yeji adds and looks to Ryujin

“What are you thinking, Yej?” Ryujin asks, obviously confused.

“Could you put her in her place? I’m not good at that..as you can see.” Ryujin face contorts in confusion

“Why not? You dated her God awful ass for a year.” she asks

“Damn Ryu, I was a bottom, alright. Read the room.” Yeji says embarrassingly and Ryujin laughs, knocking over the desk from how much she was laughing.

“Oh, makes sense.” Ryujin replied after her fit of laughter. “I’ll get her ass straight but you have to help out.”

“Fine.” Yeji says quietly, packing her bags.

“Is y/n even here today, I haven’t seen her all day.” Ryujin asks Yeji, looking to her for an answer

“No, she’s posting things from her room.” Yeji replies

“Hm. ok.” Ryujin mumbles. Both the girls walk out of the room and head to Yeji’s place, planning for an unforgettable night between the three girls.

You head over to Yeji's place near the school at around 4 pm. You anticipated staying for about 30 minutes but that changed as soon as she let you in. Upon walking in, you see Ryujin sitting on Yeji’s couch.

“What the hell is she doing here?” you question, your face twists in disgust and Ryujin smirks

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Ryujin replies. “I got invited, you fucking spawned here..uninvited.” you spit back at her.

“Enough, y/n!” Yeji shouts. “I’m so sick of your bullshit!” she continues to speak her mind and you sit down, as you’ve never heard her scream before.

“Yej, what the fuck are you talking about? I was just poking fun..chill.” you retaliate

“No. You’re screwing with our fucking campaign by being a bitch. You, your fucking friends, we’re sick of it. I’m sick of it.” Yeji finishes and you sit there, looking stunned.

“Fine, are you done now?” you ask, getting up to leave before Ryujin turns you around, pushing you up against the wall. “What the hell-” you start as she traps your body with both of her arms being on each side of your head, her hands pressing up against the wall beside you. “You think you can leave that easy, huh? We’re not done with your bitch ass just yet.” she whispers, sending chills down your spine.

“Y-yeji, help me.” you say, trying to push her away. Yeji looks at the way you struggle, not saying a word.

“You really think that she’s going to help your spoiled ass? Why do you think she invited you?” Ryujin asks as tears prick at your eyes

“Ryujin let me go!-” you try to shout out but Ryujin covers your mouth with her hand. Ryujin and Yeji both grab you, dragging you to Yeji’s room, locking the door behind them. Yeji pushes you onto the bed.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” you cry out, your voice trembling. Ryujin comes over to you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “We’re not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think.” she whispers, kissing your cheek. “Such a pretty girl..terrible personality.” Ryujin continues, looking to Yeji.

“Strip bitch.” Yeji says coldly, pulling out her phone to record you. “W-what?” you ask

“You heard me, I said strip. We’re teaching you a little lesson.” she replies. You start by taking off your shirt, then your pants, undergarments, eventually being naked in front of the two girls.

Ryujin leans forward next to you, pressing her lips up to yours. She tastes your salty tears as her hands travel up and down your body, exploring every crevice. Yeji watches the two of you interact, smirking behind the camera.

“Are you ready Yej?” she asks and Yeji nods her head. Ryujin lays you down on the bed, forcing your legs open.

“P-please..” you mumble, Ryujin gets in between your legs, kissing your lips passionately before she gets off of you. “Shh, we’re not here to hurt you.” She says, taking the camera from Yeji. Before you can answer, Yeji shuts your mouth by kissing you. Her tongue hungrily explores the inside of your mouth, to the point where you can barely breathe. She pulls away, watching the way you try to catch your breath. Her hands rub up and down your slit, you’re embarrassingly wet.

“You’re pathetic..” Yeji starts, “..I love it.” she spits out, sticking one of her fingers into your pussy. She thrusts in and out, the two girls listen to the way your pussy takes your ex-girlfriend's finger, Yeji adds another one and you moan out.

“A-ah! Please ..yej, more. Don’t stop!” you cry out, your juices leak all over her fingers as she thrusts her fingers in at a quick pace. Ryujin smiles behind the camera. “Fuck her good, Yej. I bet she’s close.” she says

Yeji curls her fingers inside of you, hitting every spot perfectly. “G-gonna cum!!” is all you say as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your whole body shakes as you orgasm all over her fingers. Yeji pulls her fingers out of your pussy, slowly sticking them in your mouth one by one.

“Good girl.” she mumbles, watching you as you suck your own cum off of her long fingers. “Can I leave now, you got what you wanted.” you say

“Nope.” Ryujin simply says. “You can leave after you make me cum.” Yeji says

“What do you want me to do? I’m ready to go.” You say and Yeji pushes you back.

“She’s gonna sit on your face.” Ryujin says flatly. Yeji lifts her skirt, pulling down her soaked panties from her ankles and hovers her cunt over your face. “Ready for me, hm y/n?” Yeji coos

“Let’s get this shit over with.” You say in annoyance. You grab her hips, sticking your tongue out so her cunt can fall right on your tongue. Yeji rocks her hips back and forth on your tongue, throwing her head back. “F-fuck I forgot how good her tongue game was Ryu.” she moans out. Ryujin turns the camera off and walks over to Yeji, grabbing her throat and kissing her lips. Ryujin grabs Yeji’s hips, moving her back and forth. “A-ah y/n..feels so good.” she moans as Ryujin continues to move her hips, between that and your tongue..has her going crazy.

You hurriedly thrust your tongue in and out of her pussy at a fast pace. You feel Yeji touching all over your breasts while you tongue fuck her. You continue to thrust inside of her, you feel her legs tremble over your face before she shouts. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck..’m gonna cum!” she cries out as she cums all over tongue. Yeji gets off of you and dusts herself off.

“You can leave now, Ryujin will let you out.” Yeji says, you scramble to throw your clothes on.

“Pull some shit again y/n and I’ll release that pathetic video of you.” Yeji says

“Fine, I'll stop.” you say, throwing the rest of your clothes on and you follow Ryujin to the front door. You turn around to walk out and Ryujin grabs you, making you turn around to face her.

“What do you want, Ryujin?” you ask, she looks you up and down.“Stop patronizing our campaign. Do it again and I’ll beat your ass after I fuck the shit out of you, got it?” Ryujin says, sternly. “O-ok, I get it. I won’t do it again.” you say “Good. Now scram!” She says as you hurriedly leave. Yeji stands in the hallway, watching Ryujin close the door. Ryujin turns around to see her best friend and she smiles, jokingly saying, “Thought you were a bottom?”

#kpop gg #fem reader #wlw post #gxg smut #ryujin smut #itzy #yeji smut #itzy x reader #ryujin x reader #yeji x reader

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afreakingdork · 10 hours ago

Text

Soft Spot - Chapter 23

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I've been thinking about this scene long ago in the days when Soft Spot was just an idea of a sequel, all the love to @garbagemilkshake for bringing it to life!

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

As you stepped through the portal to your apartment, you prepared yourself. Donnie’s usual process for dealing with things was drawn out. He took time, released anger, and then approached his feelings when his facilities weren’t clouded. It was a safety mechanism long baked in where time rarely allowed him a chance to think things over. You expected as much as he joined you in your home.

“あなたは一人じゃない.” Donnie whistled out pressure like an overheated pot the second the portal closed.

You blinked in where you had an arm around him.

“Not alone!” He looked over.

You made yourself accessible.

“Not alone…” His teeth clenched and he released you to switch grip.

Your hands were grabbed in his and he took several breaths that grew in length before he was able to moderate his distress.

He appeared in your wedding band and his presence bowled you over mentally.

Your own joy flickered up to meet his and you entwined your energies.

“You’re still there…” He relented for a pathetic churr.

“I could say the same…” You moved forward physically to cuddle him. “You were gone.”

“Damned power.” Donnie spat and hugged you.

Your belly bumped the space between you and prevented a perfect seal.

You both took a moment to look down on it before meeting back up for a kiss.

“Was Splinter, right?” You spoke against him. “The baby’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” Donnie nodded and scrubbed his beak to your nose. “If you can believe ghosts...”

“All those hooded figures?”

Donnie froze.

You watched his eyes search you.

“I may have broken the circle for a second.”

“Y/N!” Donnie dropped to his knees to examine your belly.

You held his head to keep a connection. “Splinter said there’d be lights! Not that you’d all pass out!”

“We passed out?” Donnie wondered where he slipped a hand under your top.

“Light came out of your eyes and there was this weird pizza emblem where a topping started to glow and then you flopped over…”

He turned his head and pressed his tympanum to your abdomen.

You quieted and tried to still your breath so he could listen.

He waited out a few beats before he released.

You pet him in encouragement.

“They sound okay. Heartbeat even.”

“They jumped a little. It was scary.”

“Jumped…?” His phone was immediately out. “With the fused placenta that’s concerning.”

Your worries bottomed out as you hadn’t thought of that.

“Dr. Kuro?” Donnie spoke into his receiver.

You hadn’t even heard a dial tone.

“Yes. You’re now on speaker.” He held his phone out and hit a button simultaneously.

“Hey… Doctor…” You rattled out.

“What’s going on, you two?” Your doctor asked with a tone ready to scold.

“We had a little mystic run in…” You started.

“A mystic ritual.” Donnie continued.

“I thought you two couldn’t see me in my Hidden City office?” Dr. Kuro wondered.

“Hack job.” Your husband grouched.

“You know the turtles who saved New York…?” You tried.

Dr. Kuro’s line was silent.

“They’re kind of…?” You checked with Donnie.

“Paltry relation. The father of which drew up a spell to commune with their ancestors.” He returned to his device. “Sending a rudimentary copy of the spell now.”

With a few swirls on the screen, Donnie drew up something that looked similar and sent it over.

There was a shift as Dr. Kuro presumably moved her phone to observe. “It looks like a standard summoning, but why is the power dispersed like that? Five channels? How far back in this lineage did you need to ask?”

Donnie hesitated.

You shrugged as you weren’t sure.

He stewed before he asked the ground. “Where were you present in Japan in the late Muromachi period?”

There was a surprised chirp noise from the phone.

“Are you familiar with the Foot or Hamato clans?” Donnie’s head tipped.

“Who is this father?” Dr. Kuro spoke sharply.

“Hamato Yoshi.” Donnie nuzzled your stomach.

You stroked over his head.

“I see…” She sounded like she did. “Have you noticed any abnormalities?”

“No.”

“No, vitals appear normal.”

“How exactly were you involved in the ritual, Y/N?” She asked.

“I accidentally touched one of the outer lines.”

“What happened?”

“I saw… the spirits, I guess? But it was freaky so I jumped away and when I landed the baby jumped too.”

“The spell drawn disperses what I’m guessing must be an enormous amount of power by directing it through its users…” Dr. Kuro spoke her thoughts aloud. “Touching the line is like touching a live wire. Even if it was for a second, there’s a chance it could disrupt fetal arrhythmia, which you might not be able to hear. It’s our ‘it could be nothing.’ You will come in at once.”

“On our way.” Donnie allowed a few seconds on the timer before he ended the call.

“Bathroom…?” You squeaked out.

He pressed his face once to your belly before letting go.

You scurried off.

When you returned, your partner hadn’t moved at all. He was still on his knees and only moved to look at you. You gave him access to your body again which he used as strength to get himself upright. From there it was a slight stumble to the door where you supported him through our bond. Your presence solidified his footfalls until you were eventually in the car and heading toward your OBGYN office.

Donnie fiddled with your seat belt over and over during the ride even though you had it placed safely around your belly.

“Donnie…” You murmured soothingly to him.

“I know.” He was a little curt, but his lids fell for it.

You pressed one of your hands over his.

“Not alone…” That bitter phrase escaped his mind where you assumed it was on repeat.

“You’re not.”

“Not now.” His tongue clicked.

You got hold of one of his fingers and squeezed.

He thanked you for it in a lull.

You wouldn’t take that comfort from him and asked for nothing more.

He adjusted the seat belt a few more times before you arrived at your destination. There, he became blind to all else and you had to steer him through the few pedestrians. Late afternoon and on a weekend, there were few people around the medical building. They darted around in a seemingly wayward way that made you struggle with wrangling your husband. The doctor’s office was especially scarce as it seemed closed, but Dr. Kuro was waiting in the doorway for you.

She ushered you in and turned lights on as you went. You were sat on the usual bed and prepared in the usual way. Dr. Kuro spoke through all of it. Giving comfort and facts as she prepared a fetal echocardiogram. It was a test you were familiar with and both the visual and charted results were eventually generated.

In an unusual move, Donnie glued himself to the doctor as she accessed and printed out a few more graphs. They were chartings of previous echocardiograms and she didn’t shoo him as she lined them up. She treated him like he was another doctor brought in for their opinion as she pointed to small peaks and valleys. Donnie’s researcher mentality kicked into full swing and you were the one left feeling a little out of place as the two conferred.

You were rubbing your belly for solace when Donnie suddenly fell around you in a hug.

You startled, but he was excessively loving as he churred and snuggled close to you.

“Good news?” You held him as you looked toward the doctor.

“Yes! There’s no arrhythmia.” She was clearly trying not to laugh at the display. “I will check a few more things to make sure we’re all good.”

You nodded into your mate as you went through another sonogram and some probing. You weren’t sure if it was the oddity of your day or something else, but you were oddly calm throughout the process. Donnie clung to you all throughout, seemingly soothed by the echocardiogram alone. You leaned into him and Dr. Kuro eventually finished up.

“I think I can safely call it. There was no damage, but tell me if you experience anything at all. Even gas! Otherwise, you and baby are okay. A little mystic shock spooked them just like you.” She patted your belly while wiping you off.

“Thank you.” You told her earnestly.

“Appreciated.” Donnie added.

“On call is on call!” She laughed brightly. “I have no problem with my chosen profession. Babies are always on the brain!”

You eventually were up and out of the office where Dr. Kuro continued to encourage you to make her aware of any little thing. You promised every time, without fault, and eventually hugged her in parting. She patted your back and you felt your husband’s put out aura until you were available to him again. He tugged you away and your doctor chuckled at his possessiveness. He refused to speak on it and you wore him as a cape all the way through the elevator and back down to the car where he returned to fixing your seat belt.

He didn’t give it voice, but you could tell he had returned to the mantra. Part of you wanted to ask, but you withheld. He had given sign after sign that he wasn’t ready and you respected that. The clear cause was the ceremony and, from what little you knew, you could tell the ancestors had told him something about not being alone.

You watched his hands work and the clip of his wedding ring came up rhythmically. Of the many facets of the bond you enjoyed, Donnie never having to be truly alone again was a huge one. You considered it separate from your codependency and instead a manifestation of your wish. After everything he’d been through, you never wanted him to suffer in solitude again. He had you and he had built even more connections that you hoped he would continue to foster. Your bond was a fallback and you cherished that he had a safety net.

That didn’t erase his years alone.

For you, those times were stories. They were haunts explained to you. The fables manifested in a real way through trauma and scars. The map of Donnie’s carapace was scripture. Slabs of skins were tanned hide and with it came the folly of man. They were a warning, one that he hid away with wraps and metal. His battle shell was armor both for his existence and a ward to keep from falling into the same pit again.

He was alone once.

He had lived out so much of his life alone.

He installed a network of cameras to watch his every movement and they had been reduced to stale security monitors. There were countless hours of footage of those empty six apartments. They were stored and backed up in probably a dozen more ways than you could count. His time in them were blips. Fast forwarded footage where he appeared as a lone occupant cycling through a stagnant space before venturing back out because that’s all it had been, a pit stop in his life.

Then, it changed.

From your first entrance after a provoking dinner, you became a staple. You viewed your footage as slower. Even that first morning when you fell out of bed, your aching body shook for a longer moment than he ever had. It was upon your confusion that the first recorded image of clarity was taken. From then on, your visage grew in number and painted the apartment. Overlaps of film had you scouring every surface until it was not some transient space, but a home for you both.

There would soon be another.

A small baby who no matter how big they got would rely on you both. One that would sleep and cry and transform the cameras yet again. From a married couple to life with children, you were about to hit a new demographic. That had to be terrifying in a way, especially to a man who lived his life in lapses. Segments for him were terrifying chapters that were shut away in books. They were sealed records, hopefully never to be seen again, but known to the one who wrote them.

You had your baby book now.

So far you mostly had detailed out little thoughts along with the growing army of sonogram photos. There were sections pre-made down the line for first nail trim and things like that. It was a list of milestones that you knew would warrant interest to your and your spouse. Donnie loved anniversaries and you wondered to what extent he would take your childs. He relished, you thought, in those moments because they were ones he never had. No one saw to celebrate any of his markers of life, though you had glimpsed a few of your own.

His first relaxing sleep.

His first proclamation of love.

His first birthday party.

Anything he had ever missed, he was about to experience anew.

For every year that he lost, he was about to reset the clock.

For every second he wished would be over, he was about to cherish them.

He would beg for more.

That was his gluttony and you saw to it being fed.

You also would keep him famished.

That contrarian cycle was your dream state.

He would always come to you for more.

Only you could satisfy.

You would start the timer with a click and give him everything anew.

Through what you were preciously developing and sheer will, Donnie was about to start over. The moment he held his child in his arms, he would know it too. That sense of fatherhood would hit him and you knew the weepy look he was going to give his progeny. It would be that he both had and was witnessing the most precious thing in the world. Together, they would experience it all. Every moment Donnie never had, every one he yearned for, all he hoped, every dream, together.

The cameras would continue to document, but this would be real time.

You couldn’t imagine him missing a second.

You were at the apartment before each of you knew it. Both distracted by plaguing thoughts, you emerged only after a beep from the car. It was a chime you hadn’t heard in a long time. The vehicle called to its unruly passengers and you idly wondered why Donnie had added that kind of programming. Before you, did he still flicker in and out of existence with his weak flame?

You tended to that now. Like an olden lighthouse keeper, you cared for the spark. You kept it lit and weary travelers away from crags and cliffs. At all hours you made sure it was at its brightest. You were the beacon of sorts, but mostly used to direct. You had strong words for where not to go and very little of where to. That was Donnie’s choice in the matter, but still he followed you.

Out of the car, after you swiped the alarm and he tenderly undid your buckle for you. Behind you, as your plump form made both the exchange from standing or sitting a bit of an ordeal. Around you, a reassuring hand to your back as you heaved upright and caught your breath. You loved your baby dearly, but in some ways you wished they weren’t rearranging all your organs.

You led through the lobby with your person-sized overcoat. Donnie made the trek difficult as he refused to leave you. He clearly cared little about his whereabouts and would almost prefer to stand stagnant. You kept him going with your direction and eventually got to the elevator. A few button presses led up to your door and your apartment.

Your darling doorman opened it for you and you reached inside for what seemed like the first breath in a while. The interior of your abode greeted your new mindset. Your goal was lofty and you were proud of it. New lives were rightfully attainable for the ones you loved and you would guide both persons well. Rolling your neck in pseudo-preparations, Donnie continued to coil around you until his lips found your ear.

“May we…?”

“Hm?” You tried to find his eyes, but he tucked away.

He mumbled into your shoulder. “… resume our earlier…?”

You thought on what he could mean. Your morning had been relatively busy with fussing over Raph’s arrival so there was little to continue there. You highly doubted Donnie wanted to revisit anything from that interim which left what occurred when you got home. You had been hugging and you tried to move in his grip so you could hold him.

He moved to stay hidden behind you.

You bobbed with light laughter and decided to ask. “Resume what?”

He held firm with obvious embarrassment leaking off of him.

“My sweet, sweet husband…” You cooed and sauntered a few steps knowing he would follow.

Your hips shook him along.

“I wonder… I’m usually good at figuring these things out, but…”

He nosed along the back of your neck.

You shivered.

He stopped and pressed his forehead flat against the area. It was a clear sign that you weren’t trending sexual, so there had to be something else. Your brow creased to a point where you thought you might trigger a headache. Donnie’s hands were clinical in finding your hips. It was a hold to keep you in place and one you vaguely recognized. Placing it was the harder part.

This sort of grip had been deployed in many ways over the years. From steering to stopping, there were a million different connotations. With sex supposedly off the table, you knocked out a bunch of options. He barely wanted to move and very much wanted to stay glued to you, so transport was eliminated. That meant static options. You weren’t trying to get away from him, but he still wanted to do something. Lately, he sought you at all hours, but his usual goal was around your front.

He wasn’t holding your belly, you realized as you looked down. From behind, you could sort of see his hands as they tucked around your sides and were patently free of that destination. You highly doubted he wanted to avoid your baby as every stressor of this day had gone towards their wellbeing.

You put together right then what he wanted to continue. “I think it’ll work best if we sit.”

His nod was ferocious against your spine. It shook you free and you trailed over to the couch. He followed close behind and you gestured to the coffee table as you sat in your spot. The time it took for him to push the wood aside was exactly the amount for you to get situated. With your widening pelvis, you now sat with a metered spread of your legs. You were supposed to be minding your spine, but reclining felt especially good as it shifted your gravity downward to relieve the pressure.

You sighed comfortably as you felt Donnie kneel in front of you.

You afforded him privacy as you let your head loll back into the cushions.

Little brushes to your knees asked for more space because he didn’t quite fit there.

He was large and you would need to readjust everything to get comfortable again. For him, it was worth it, and you shuffled. He kept himself as a wedge so you could better measure the distance and set your legs wider. You squirmed on your bottom and dipped your hands down to hold your child. A little shifting and you could eventually lean back with some semblance of the same sigh on your lips.

Donnie reached forward with a shy skim.

He traced along your legs.

He reached further back.

He didn’t hold, but slipped his hands stationary beside your hips.

There, you felt him nose over your belly lightly before he buried his face there.

The sudden pressure tickled your heart and you fought a giggle.

A loud churr broke the silence and he stilled with his face against your stomach.

“Better?” You murmured to him.

“Soon…” He did his own adjustments until the side of his head was pressed to hear your baby.

You slowed your breath in long releases.

Everything settled.

He was not alone.

He would never be again.

After what you gauged as an appropriate time had passed, you reached out.

You did your own skim.

A ghost over his shoulders.

Up the sinew of his neck.

To settle your digits against his cranium and hold him in place.

Pressing a literal reassurance against him of all he had.

He exhaled as if he hadn’t in a long time.

He went slack.

You kept him there.

With you.

With your baby.

He breathed as if asleep when he finally spoke. “They… said… they had always been there…”

In a blink. you envisioned all those hooded figures.

You felt him close his eyes and return there as well. “Not just… spoken. I felt… it. Their sorrow. How… they could not… help. How they watched all that occured…”

You squeezed.

His hands slid around to hold your lower back.

You felt a shift from your baby.

Donnie was close enough that he did too.

He started up a slow churr and pressed it inward. “It’s alright… Papà’s alright…”

You smiled at the name.

It might have been in your head, but you swore you felt your child calm.

Donnie warmed your stomach with his breath and set his forehead against you. “They were there when I was little.”

Your fingers twitched.

He kissed you through your shirt. “They saw.”

“They apologized…” You remembered he had set.

“Their sorrow…” He forced his churr to continue, to weather the stormy thoughts. “It was real. I believed.”

You petted him slowly.

“They believe in destiny.”

You made sure your hand made a rhythmic, predictable path.

“All those born, who will be Hamato, gain power.”

“That doesn’t sound genetic…”

“It’s not.”

You opened your eyes and thought tangentially toward the ceiling.

“That is the destiny. Access to such power differs. One finds that in the living. In not living for oneself. For another.”

“When you saved me.”

He took a deep breath to build up his churring.

“Our baby…”

“Protecting the whole above oneself.”

You remembered the blinking slice filling up. “Donnie… do you…?”

There was a glittering dance of purple in your periphery before you registered what it was.

Your head came down and the entire room had changed.

It was a veritable mess, but the contents sent your heart straight into your throat.

Across nearly every inch of your apartment were ninpo constructions of baby things.

Blocks scattered on your moved coffee table.

Mechanical toys littered the floor.

Baby bottles, little plates, tinier utensils, and a drying rack that was barely utilized coated your kitchen.

A crib sat off to the side where you hadn’t moved the dresser yet from where you wanted to put it.

You didn’t realize you were suffocating Donnie until his churr hiccupped.

“Ah! Sorry!” You sent shiny eyes toward him.

He looked up at you with the same.

“This-!”

“For you.”

He looked down at your belly and snuggled up against it.

“Both of you.”

You shot forward to hug as much of him as you could.

You ended up folding over him and he languished under the pressure. “Here for each other.”

You loosened a little to view him.

“Always.”

You pulled him up for a kiss.

He relented and there was a bursting of pixels as the constructs dissolved.

They sparkled around you as you parted.

You shared a look and he leaned up into you without melding your lips again.

You lingered in his space.

You shared it long enough that one of his hands came around to settle on your belly.

“Well, papà…?”

You felt him startle.

You stroked down his cheek to tell him whatever he wanted to go by was fine.

He churred against your hand.

“You’ll take good care of us?”

He grinned so brightly you had to wince against the shine.

He stole a kiss while you were blinded.

You settled against him and between breaths managed, “And we’ll do the same for you.” He nodded his faith and pulled you closer.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

New year, best betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup

#softspotfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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tornadoyoungiron · 2 days ago

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Hello Tumblr, it’s been a while.

First of all, wishing everyone a Happy New Year! Hoping that 2025 has been good so far and for the rest of the solar cycle <3 The past few months have been a little rough for me, as I have been dealing with some behind-the-scenes stuff, though I will be fine, don’t you worry. I’ve been through far worse.

Unfortunately, it means that I’ve lost the passion for Young Iron, I honestly think that the passion has been dwindling for a long time now, since at least May 2024. I think it was a factor of a lot of things; my hyperfixation slowly waning, feeling like the story losing its focus and getting out of hand plus noticing that a lot of my ideas were being copied.

To clarify, I don’t mind if people take ideas I put forward in my writing, in fact, I do encourage it and love seeing what people come up with. It excites me and inspires me to write more. I want people to be creative and to be inspired to write their own stories, hell their own Tornado’s because you can never have enough Tornado’s in the world.

However, my issues started after introducing and talking about future concepts of my stories with others and having people immediately ask if they could take and use these concepts/characters in their own AUs before I could even write them into my own started to discourage me. This is one of the reasons why all the posts on Broken Records have been deleted and I removed myself from most of the ttte groups I was in. I wanted to discuss my ideas with others, not have them immediately stolen for other people’s AUs.

It’s disheartening to not be able to flesh out my own characters or ideas before someone comes in and takes the idea away to make their own. Maybe I’m being petty or perhaps a bit protective, I don’t know, but it felt rude to me.

That being said, please don’t be scared to post and continue writing stuff inspired by Young Iron. If you want to write stories about any of the characters I’ve introduced in the Young Iron stories, please feel free to go right on ahead and even tag me if you want. I really do genuinely love this kinda stuff, it might even inspire me to come back.

Either way, I still do have plans to finish Young Iron. In Pursuit of Self was always going to be the last in the series, I want the series it to have a definitive end, unlike my previous series with Godzilla which just randomly dropped off. I want to finish it but when things are looking up and things have gotten better.

In other news, Transformers One really got me into a Transformer’s hyper fixation so you might see some new things in regards to the Transformers franchise. (Probably not ONE related but you never know.)

Wishing all my followers and mutuals a wonderful 2025!

Stay Safe, smooth running and dry rails!

#baku speaks #ttte young iron #ttte fanfic #ttte young iron au

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 13 hours ago

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Day 95 (Warning: This Fic has a whole load of sensitive subject matter throughout it, so check the tags and go in at your own discretion)

Burning Lungs by Oxidize

Alrighty I’mma be perfectly honest, I have no idea how to approach this one. This might be the . . . darkest? No. I think the best (but still not best?) way I could describe this fic as would be, the most openly graphic story. Not in a super brutal descriptions of gore kind of graphic, just in the sense that when talking about the darker aspects of these characters backstories it’s the most in your face. I’d even argue it’s kind of overboard at points.

This is Burning Lungs! Another multi-chapter story, and unfortunately, another Unfinished one.

You know those posts talking about when you binge read a fic and get super invested only to hit the most recent chapter and realize that it hasn’t been updated in a super long time?? For me, this is THE fic I think of when that kind of posts comes up. That and a Tokomaru fic I read years ago as a young teen but that’s not Junkan so it’s irrelevant here.

A short summation of the fic for those who chose not to read it given the warnings. Junko catches Pneumonia and has to stay in the Nurse’s Office at Hope’s Peak, where her caretaker is, unsurprisingly Mikan! Initially she hates Mikan, partially because of her sickness. However through the combination of Mikan’s kind nature, and constant nightmares of her childhood, she eventually comes to start loving Mikan.

Now of course, because the fic is unfinished, we don’t get to see these feelings fully come together, just snippets as Junko slowly finds herself more and more fond of Mikan.

I love this fic, like, a lot. While I could do without the at times kind of excessive flashbacks going over how bad Junko (and Mukuro’s) childhood was, everything outside of that is so good that I’m willing to overlook my minor gripe. And even then the last flashback actually is what makes me wish this fic had continued. Since (And yes we’re getting into spoilers from here on out) it reveals that Junko and Mikan had unknowingly met as young children, and like, god i fucking love that trope. Especially in the context of this fic.

Something I find myself fond of which is only possible with these dream sequences is the way the author lets both characters slowly bond because of their trauma. We only ever get to see Junko’s side of things of course, but I still really like the vibe. My favorite moment from this story is in the last chapter, when Mikan talks to Junkan about some of her own personal history, for a lot of reasons! For one I just like seeing Junko having grown a bit further since for a decent portion of the fic she’s had a very negative opinion of Mikan due to being stuck in bed and sick, with that outlook being chipped away by Mikan’s kindness (along with recognizing her struggles).

It also involves Mikan’s bandages! I’ve said previously that I’m just like, obsessed with those and the ways they can be used when portraying Mikan. Here it is, definitely uncomfortable but I’m pretty sure that’s the point. And it’s the hardest indicator for Junko that Mikan and her are the same, deeply damaged girls who deserved better.

The line in the inner monologue that strikes my mind the hardest is “Not Tsumiki” because that feels like the hardest shift in Junko’s brain where she begins to not just wish for Mikan’s happiness, but also when she starts falling for her (Even if she tries to fight back that notion in her mind as just a need for affection.) Like everything after that between these two specifically I love.

Mikan doing Junko’s hair (both times) is lovely and gives me a similar energy to why I love the idea of Mikan’s love language coming out through medical care. Oh! Nother thing I like (Sorry I’m focusing so much on Chapter 3, it’s really good), Junko doesn’t just like, instantly switch to only being nice with Mikan. She’s significantly kinder to her, but she’s just like, reflexively a bitch sometimes. She’s gotta work through it, and I like to imagine she would have if the series continued (and I do have thoughts on that, but that’s for the future)

This is a small thing but I also like the background of Mukuro and Sayaka getting together in the background, just something cute that does my heart good. I’ve always wanted to try out the cold spoon trick since this is where I learned it from. Alas, my relationship is long distance, so I’ve yet to get a nice hickey- Oops that got off topic.

I believe that’s all the notable stuff I wanted to mention here? I hope those who choose to read have a good time with it! Because I certainly did.

To the author (who I tried to find outside of AO3 ((also checking its profile reveals it uses it/its pronouns. Hopefully that remains accurate should you be finding this post, apologies if not and I’m willing to edit this if necessary!)), but it doesn’t seem to have any other accounts under the same username), I sincerely hope that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, you’re doing well. I always wish the best to these authors when I come across a long unfinished storyline that may never continue (And in this case it noted on its profile that the fics it made during this release year won’t be finished). I made art based on this fic both out of love for it, and in hopes that you’d find this! Not out of a desire to see the story finish (Even if I do), but to let ya know that what work you did put into this already is wonderful! Thankyou! Oh right. Should talk about the art.

Hey guess what, it’s more Chapter 3 stuff, another adaptation of course. I tried hard to get Mikan’s outfit correct based on the descriptions from earlier chapters. It was very weird getting to draw Mikan in an outfit that’s well, realistic? I’ve drawn her in sweaters and the like before, but I struggle to describe the sense of realism described in this fit. It’s now that I realize with a reread that her outfit in this chapter might have been different, as it showed off her bandages more (unless I missed a line), meaning she might have been wearing something closer to her Nurse Uniform? I’m still happy with this despite that!

Oh! Slight extra note, I like Mikan wearing more bandaids (the tiny kind) across her face and fingers rather than just her arm, leg, and knee like normal. Adds a sense of uniqueness!~

Anyway, I felt very confident in the choice to adapt the scene when Junko wakes up from her first nightmare of the chapter. Held in Mikan’s arm as she’s being calmed down. You know me, I like the role reversal with this ship, and Mikan comforting Junko ALWAYS gives me life.

Coloring and shading this was super hard, but super fun! I wanted this to be a much more desaturated and dull looking pic in terms of the presentation, since this fic always gave me a vibe of being a lot more realistic in its interpretation of Danganronpa Characters. It wasn’t easy, but I think it was worth it!

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

#danganronpa #junkan #junko enoshima #mikan tsumiki #tsumiki mikan #shipping #enoshima junko #junkomikan #junko x mikan #enomiki

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ravennaortiz · 19 hours ago

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Always Here

Summary: Juice works through his grieve and regret at never telling you his true feelings.

Juice stared at himself in the mirror. His usual shirt and jeans exchanged for a suit and tie. “Can’t believe you got me in this” he muttered as he moved his arms trying to get used to the confining fabric. “Wish you could be here to see it. I know you’d be snapping photos and shit” he continued as a lump formed in his throat. “It’s not fair” he choked out as the grief hit him again.

“Easy laddie” soothed Chibs as he made his way into the bathroom followed by Tig and Half-Sack. “Easy” continued Chibs as he held Juice closed.

“It should have been you” sobbed Juice angrily as his eyes landed on Half-Sack who shrunk back.

“It wasn’t his fault. She died trying to give them both a chance” stated Chibs as he patted Juices back. “She wouldn’t want you harboring this anger towards him”.

Juice barely nodded. He knew that was true. If you were here right now you would be dragging him out by his ear to apologize. “She survived being blown up in Iraq only to be gunned down in a damn small town. I should have been with them. If I was maybe she” started Juice before Tig cut him off.

“She would still be in the casket in Chapel man. She was always going to sacrifice herself. Only thing that would have been different is you would be just as cold and in a casket next to her” stated Tig firmly as he clasped Juices shoulder. “While we all can understands the grief and pain of losing someone. None of us will understand the loss of losing her like you and Half have. I know it’s hard to think of this but he’s just as lost and torn up as you. Remember he had to sit with her as she cried, came to terms with dying and took her last breath. That he has to replay that though his mind day and night. She will always be here” continued Tig as he patted Juices chest and head before leaving the bathroom.

Awhile later Juice made his way out to the main area of the clubhouse. Jeez he thought as he looked at the crowd that was inside and looked to be out the door. A mix of bikers, soldiers and random civilians milled about as they wait for their turn to say goodbye. Tears started again as he thought about how many lives you had changed in the short time you had been on this earth.

“Hey baby” murmured Gemma as she pulled Juice in for a hug. “It’s okay” She soothed as she patted his back. “Why don’t you head into chapel with Half? I told him you two take as long as you want alone. The two of you deserve to say goodbye in private and without everyone else being present. We can all wait. She would want to be with her boys one last time”

Juice nodded as he let her move him towards the door. Taking a deep breath he opened it and stepped in. Keeping his eyes off the casket, not ready to see you so still again.

“I can lea-“ started Half-Sack as he turned tears spilling down his cheeks as he finished fixing your dog tags.

“Stay. I want you to and she would want that” stated Juice as he moved to stand across from him on the opposite side of your casket.

Half nodded as he wiped at his eyes. Before extending his arm out with a chain. “She would want you to have this” he stated as Juice looked at the dog tag that dangled from his hand. “It’s her extra I dug around our stuff when I was looking for mine to put on hers.

“Thanks” gulped Juice as he took the necklace and traced your engraved name before putting it over his head.

The two men fell into a comfortable silence. Each with their own thoughts as they said their goodbyes.

“I’m glad you were her battle buddy when she was over in Iraq. She lucked out with you. Thanks for watching over her when I couldn’t.” stated Juice as he glanced up to look at Half-Sack. "I took my anger on never telling her how I feel out on you. It wasn't your fault I didn't have the balls to tell her I loved her more than a friend. That I wanted her to be mine and all that sappy romantic stuff she would have dragged me for. I lost out on that with her and that's my cross to bear. Not yours"

“Pretty sure she watched over me.” Chuckled Half-Sack lightly as he met his friends’ eyes. “She loved you too. Just so you know. Always talked about you and shit. I’m sorry the two of you never got to be together like that. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her this time” continued Half-Sack as tears poured down his face as he went from the time you were both blown up to the time the bullets only pierced your flesh.

“You did all you could. Neither of you had any idea the bullet would hit her prosthetic like that and ricochet. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself” stated Juice as he walked around and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m sorry for being an ass. She will always be here with us.” He stated as he felt a warmth on the back of his neck and a slight weight followed by what he swore was a whispered finally.

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #fanfiction

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