#and at his core the process could seem monotonous

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@stargazerlillian

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mania // hinata shoyo

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, possessive!hinata, borderline obsessive behavior, teasing, squirting, cunnilingus, manhandling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, grinding, hinata takes a picture of you while you’re covered in cum

wc ⇢ 8.5k

The blaring of your alarm jolted you awake, the last wisps of a strange dream quickly dissipating. Groaning, you reached over to silence the incessant beeping. Another day, another monotonous routine to slog through.

As you raised yourself up on your elbows, you noticed a moving truck parked outside your window. Huh, someone new must be moving into the apartment next door that had been vacant for months. You supposed you should introduce yourself as the neighbor at some point.

You watched with detached interest as a figure emerged from the truck, hoisting a box into their arms with ease despite its considerable size. They wore a baseball cap pulled low, shielding most of their face from view. Suddenly, the person paused, turning to look in your direction. Even obscured by the cap's brim, you registered a pair of distinctly familiar bright eyes that sparked an old warmth within you.

Could it be...? No, it couldn't possibly...

As if hearing your internal questioning, the figure reached up with their free hand to remove the cap. Instantly, you gasped softly in recognition at the sunlight catching on his tousled orange locks and the gentle, friendly features - those of your childhood friend and neighbor Hinata Shoyo whom you hadn't seen in nearly a decade since his family moved away.

But as you drank in the rest of him, you realized this was not the Hinata you remembered. His compact frame had broadened substantially into toned, powerful muscles that rippled beneath his shirt as he moved. Faint tan lines gave a glimpse of the athlete's build lying underneath. Your gaze lingered perhaps a moment too long, feasting on the sight.

It was then that a myriad of conflicting emotions welled up - shock at his unexpected return after so many years, happiness to see your dear friend again, but also a growing flutter of something else in the pit of your stomach you couldn't quite identify. The tiny, energetic boy you fondly recalled was gone, unmistakably.

When Hinata's penetrating stare met yours once more, the intensity simmering there rattled you to your core. It was as if he were seeing straight through you, into you, assessing your reaction to his transformation in minute detail. You looked away sharply, heat creeping up your neck as your heartbeat quickened for reasons you didn't fully understand.

One thing was for certain - the reunion with your long lost friend was about to make your life anything but monotonous...

You stood there, still trying to process that the tall, chiseled man before you was actually little Hinata Shoyo, when he suddenly broke into a blinding smile and started bounding towards your door. Before you could even react, your front door burst open and powerful arms were enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

"(Y/N)! I can't believe it's really you!" Hinata's deep voice reverberated through you.

As he squeezed you tight against his firm body, his large hands splayed across your back, one slipping perhaps a little too low without meaning to. You gasped at the unbidden thrill the innocent contact sent through you. Get a grip! This was your childhood friend, for god's sake.

Pulling back finally, you drank in Hinata's features again up close - the sharpened jawline, intense eyes that seemed to glitter with unrestrained joy and something else you couldn't quite place, kiss-swollen lips quirked into a roguish grin.

"Shoyo! I...wow, you've really..." Your voice trailed off as heat flooded your cheeks.

His grin widened mischievously, as if he knew exactly what you were flustered about. "Yeah, I've changed a bit since we were kids, huh? The big leagues will do that."

There was a self-assured cockiness there that the old Hinata definitely lacked. His hands were still planted firmly on you, his thumbs tracing maddeningly slow circles against your sides that had you struggling not to squirm.

"Hey, why don't you come over in a bit after I get settled?" he asked, that molten gaze boring into you. "We have a decade to catch up on, after all."

You couldn't be imagined the darker undercurrent, the subtle heat behind his words and body language. This reunited friend dynamic was quickly veering into dangerous territory. Still, you found yourself nodding dumbly in agreement before he released you finally.

As you watched Hinata retreat back towards the moving truck, you realized with a start that he moved with the same fiery confidence and intensity he always radiated on the court - except this time, it was directed solely at you. A shiver ran down your spine at the implications.

What had once been an innocent reunion between childhood friends was rapidly becoming anything but. You didn't have the slightest clue just how obsessively Hinata's desires had been simmering underneath the surface for you all these years.

A few hours later, you found yourself standing at Hinata's door, your nerves a bundled mess of anticipation and trepidation. You had changed outfits twice, uncertain why you felt the need to put in any extra effort for hanging out with an old friend. But the simmering tension from earlier had you feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.

Taking a steadying breath, you rapped your knuckles against the door. It opened almost immediately, as if Hinata had been waiting right on the other side. He greeted you with that same earth-shatteringly warm smile and ushered you inside.

"Make yourself at home! I just put the kettle on for some tea if you'd like."

You nodded, drinking in the neat but still half-unpacked surroundings. Pictures were already hung up - most showcasing Hinata's impressive volleyball accolades, but a few candid shots of the two of you together as kids. A pang of nostalgia hit you seeing your grinning young selves, so blissfully ignorant of what the years would bring.

"Those were the days, huh?" Hinata's deep voice rumbled beside your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You jumped slightly, not realizing how close he had gotten without you noticing. He was radiating warmth like a furnace, his clean, crisp scent enveloping you and cranking up your pulse.

"Y-yeah, I can't believe how long it's been," you managed, hating how flustered you sounded.

Hinata held your gaze a beat too long, as if studying you, before thankfully the tea kettle's whistle pierced the tension. He flashed you another knee-weakening grin before brushing past you towards the kitchen, his arm grazing your side ever so lightly.

You sank onto the couch, trying to collect yourself as Hinata pottered about preparing the tea, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on you. This was just Hinata, your innocent best friend growing up...right? You had to be misreading the heated looks, the weighted silences, the proximity.

By the time he returned with two steaming mugs, placing one in your shaking hands, you had mostly regained your composure. Hinata took a seat beside you, his broad shoulders bumping against yours in the tight quarters. The smell of his intoxicating cologne clouded your senses again.

"So..." He took a long sip, those hauntingly amber eyes flickering over you from beneath his lashes. "What did I miss while I was gone?"

And so the two of you fell back into familiar banter and catching up, the years seeming to slip away with every laugh and anecdote shared. But you couldn't shake the feeling there was an underlying current of tension just beneath the surface - a raging storm of want and obsession Hinata could barely contain, no matter how friendly his words.

He hung on your every word, body angled towards you eagerly as you recounted pieces of your life since he'd been gone. You tried not to stare too openly at the way his toned forearms flexed as he gesticulated or how his shirt stretched deliciously across his muscular chest with each breath. This was torture in the sweetest way.

At one point, Hinata reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a beat too long and sending sparks ricocheting through you. His gaze had darkened an unmistakable few shades, pupils blown wide. You realized with a start your faces were mere inches apart, close enough for you to taste the lingering tea on his lips if you just...

The afternoon drifted by in a warm haze as you and Hinata continued catching up, swapping stories and reminiscing about old times. With each anecdote and laugh shared, you felt the lingering awkwardness dissipate as the familiar comfort and ease of your childhood friendship reasserted itself.

"Oh my god, do you remember the time we tried to camp out in your backyard?" Hinata chuckled, his eyes crinkling in that achingly nostalgic way. "We didn't even make it past 10 pm before you were crying because you thought you heard a bear!"

You gasped in mock indignation, swatting his arm. "I was 8 years old! Of course I was terrified! You're the one who insisted we could survive in the wilderness by ourselves."

"Hey, I still maintain we were doing pretty well until your dad came out and dragged us inside," he countered with a smirk.

Shaking your head at the memory, you couldn't stop the fond smile from stretching across your face. Those careless days of wandering the neighborhood and dreaming up adventures seemed like an entire lifetime ago now. An unexpected pang of wistfulness tugged at your heart seeing how much had changed - how much Hinata himself had changed into this ruggedly handsome man oozing quiet confidence.

As if reading your melancholic turn of thought, Hinata's expression softened almost imperceptibly. Reaching out, his thumb gently grazed your cheek, lingering on the cusp of something more intimate. You fought the urge to turn into his touch, to chase that fleeting connection.

"I missed you, you know," he murmured, molten eyes roving your features as if mapping every curve, every laugh line. "After we moved away, not a day went by I didn't think about you."

The raw honesty, the undisguised yearning in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. What did he mean by that? You wanted to ask, suddenly hyperaware of the searing heat building between your bodies where your legs were pressed together on the couch.

Before you could find your words, Hinata dropped his hand, the moment breaking. He flashed you a brilliant smile, but you could have sworn you detected a fleeting look of frustration, of wanting more. But the instant was gone in a blink.

"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat. "Tell me more about what you've been up to recently! Any relationships I need to intimidate the guy over?"

And just like that, you found yourself diverted onto a new conversational path, the flirtatious tension fizzling out into easy banter once more. But you couldn't quite shake the feeling that something deeper, something hungrier lurked behind Hinata's every glance, every casual brush of contact between you two.

Part of you was afraid to give in and explore where this was leading, this dizzying chemical pull between you and your newly reformed friend. Another part wondered if you were imagining things, projecting some deeper meaning onto innocent friendliness.

But the largest part of you, the part that recognized the same blazing intensity from Hinata that used to set gymnasiums alight when he took the court...that part was purely intrigued to see just how far this obsession could go if you fanned the flames rather than backing away.

As the conversation continued to flow naturally between you two, you started to relax more into the familiar camaraderie. Hinata's boisterous energy and lack of filter were still very much intact, to your amusement.

"So then this rookie on the team tries to mess with me during practice," Hinata was saying animatedly, "Acting all cocky because he's some hotshot striker right out of university. But he doesn't realize who he's messing with!"

His eyes flashed with a competitive fire that made something stir low in your belly. You could easily envision the intimidating aura he must command on the court these days.

"Well, what happened next?" you prompted, leaning forward with rapt attention.

Hinata flashed you a wicked grin. "Let's just say he learned very quickly not to underestimate the flight patterns of my freak quick strikes."

There was an edge of cockiness, of arrogance coloring his deep voice that you had definitely never heard from him before. This supreme self-assuredness, this awareness of his own prowess was utterly intoxicating coming from the usually humble, sometimes bumbling boy you remembered.

"You should have seen the way he was gaping at me after I spiked that ball right past his face," Hinata continued, leaning back to throw an arm over the back of the couch behind you. "The look on his face was priceless."

His movement brought you two even closer together, close enough for the heady scent of his aftershave to cloud your senses. You tried not to visibly react as the back of his hand came to rest against the nape of your neck, sending tingles down your spine.

"I'll have to take you to one of my games sometime," he murmured, eyes darkening in a way that had nothing to do with the story he'd been telling. "I think you'd enjoy watching me hit the court...get a taste for my stamina and power up close."

The words seemed loaded with innuendo, dropping into the silence like lead weights strangling the air from the room. You swallowed thickly, frozen under the banked intensity of his stare. Was this really still just playful banter to him or was there an undeniable heat simmering behind those amber eyes?

Hinata leaned in a few hateful inches closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke in a low rumble. "I have a feeling you'd appreciate the view, among other things."

The implication in his tone was clear, setting your already heated skin aflame. This was not the innocent boy you had once played pretend with in your backyard. The man sitting before you now was all bravado and unrestrained desire barely contained beneath the surface.

Just as your mind began to reel, Hinata pulled back abruptly with a laugh, the spellbinding tension shattering. "But enough about me, what about you? Any hot dates or romantic prospects I should know about as your best friend?"

You could only gape at him, utterly thrown by theiplodic shift as he regarded you expectantly. Clearly this new Hinata was a master at skirting the line between propriety and inappropriate suggestion, holding you in a constant state of off-kilter want.

Part of you was uncomfortable with wherever this was leading, fearful of crossing boundaries you could never uncross with your childhood friend. But the other part, the growing part, was undeniably intrigued to call his bluff and finally unravel the obsessive beast you saw lurking beneath his careful words and heated stares.

Licking your lips, you managed to find your voice at last. "No, no one serious at the moment. But I'll be sure to let you know if that changes."

The blatant challenge glittered in your eyes, tossing the ball back into Hinata's court now. His pupils flared, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he studied you. It was clear the gauntlet had been thrown between you two - the only question was which of you would be the first to stop playing games and give in.

The charged tension continued to build between you and Hinata over the next few hours, every casual touch and weighted look laden with the promise of something more simmering just beneath.

His words became more boldly suggestive, clearly testing the boundaries to see how you would react. "You know, sometimes at night I still get flashes of the games we used to play as kids in your backyard," he mused at one point, amber eyes burning into you. "Except in my dreams, we were a little...older and the games became much more physical in nature."

You nearly choked on your drink, warmth flooding your cheeks. The blatant innuendo hung heavy in the air, daring you to either deflect or match his energy. Holding his heated stare, you replied evenly, "Is that so? I don't recall those kinds of games, but I'm certainly intrigued to learn the rules now."

A muscle flexed in Hinata's toned forearm where it rested on the back of the couch, the only visible sign of your words affecting him. His gaze darkened further, a low growl sounding in his throat that had your heartbeat thundering. For a moment, it seemed like the dam of restraint was about to break and he would finally act on the smoldering obsession written across every part of him.

But then the moment passed, that infuriatingly placid mask of friendly interest slipping back into place as if nothing had happened. "Well, maybe I'll have to show you sometime and refresh your memory," he said with a wink, so achingly casual.

The back and forth continued like this, each salacious comment and heated look slowly unraveling your nerves until finally you realized with a start that evening had begun creeping in through the windows.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize how late it had gotten," you murmured, disappointment and relief pooling in your chest. Part of you was grateful for the reprieve from the exquisite torture, while the other part ached to keep pushing to see how far Hinata would eventually take this.

"I should probably get going," you continued, standing up from the couch and trying not to look too affected. "But we'll have to do this again really soon, Shoyo. I've missed you."

You realized the truth in your own words as you said them. Despite the simmering tension and undercurrent of something darker lurking within Hinata, it felt so refreshingly wonderful to have your oldest friend back in your life again after all this time.

Hinata's expression softened at your parting words, something painfully tender flickering across his features before the hungry gaze returned. "Count on it. In fact..."

He rose as well, following you towards the door with those powerful, assured strides. You felt dwarfed beneath his towering height, pinned by the smoldering look he swept over your body. Reaching out, his calloused fingers grazed your arm, tracing upwards to curl around the back of your neck with unrestrained possessiveness.

Your breath hitched in your throat, trapped by the unyielding heat in his stare. He pulled you flush against the solid wall of his chest with a gentleness that somehow felt more frightening than outright aggression. You could feel every shuddering inhale, every thump of his hammering heart against your own ribcage.

"How about I walk you home?" Hinata husked, his lips a hair's breadth from yours now. "Make sure you get there safe?"

You could only mutely nod in acquiescence, all power of speech robbed by the delirious tension rapidly crescendoing around you both. His grip tightened ever so slightly against your nape, a clear undercurrent of possession in the deceptively simple request.

The walk back to your apartment building passed in a heated daze, the only sound your shaky breaths and the white noise roaring in your ears. Every nerve ending felt electrified under the weight of Hinata's domineering presence beside you. He was so close, the scent of his cologne and body heat making your head swim with visceral awareness of him.

When at last you reached your doorstep, you started to turn and bid him goodnight, but your words died on your lips as Hinata suddenly crowded you back against the door. His large palm slammed against the wood by your head with a bang, face ducking down to crash his lips against yours in a heated, untamed kiss.

A shocked gasp parted your lips, allowing his insistent tongue to delve deeper, staking its claim as he devoured you. You clutched the hard planes of his chest, knees turning to liquid at the unbridled desire, the feral obsession driving his fevered movements. This was not the chaste affection of childhood friends - this was a man's unyielding passion finding its voice at last.

Then, as abruptly as the searing kiss began, Hinata tore himself away. You slumped back against the door, chest heaving as if you'd just run a marathon, lips still tingling from the lingering heat of him. When you finally managed to pry your eyes open, Hinata was watching you with hooded eyes, body tense like a lion poised to pounce again.

But instead, he simply retreated a step backwards, the briefest flicker of a satisfied smirk playing across his swollen lips. "Goodnight, (Y/N)," he murmured in that deep, rasping timbre that had become your undoing. "Sleep well."

And with that, he turned and started back towards his apartment, leaving you a gasping, disheveled mess still slumped against your door in disbelief.

The next morning, you awoke feeling groggy and disoriented, as if emerging from some fevered dream. Fleeting fragments of memory ricocheted through your mind - the blazing heat of Hinata's kiss, the undeniable hunger in his touch, the gravelly timbre of his parting words that had you squirming restlessly through the night.

Surely that couldn't have been real...could it? Your fingers drifted up to ghost across your still-tingling lips, the phantom taste of him making a shiver chase down your spine. No, it was too visceral, too branded into your very bones to be anything but reality.

Which made Hinata's complete nonchalance when you finally ventured next door all the more confounding.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" he greeted you cheerfully after pulling open the door, seemingly oblivious to your rattled state. Not a single hair was out of place, every inch of him the picture of friendly affability, as if he hadn't ravaged you against that same door just hours before.

"I, uh, made some coffee if you want a cup?" he continued when you failed to respond, holding up the steaming mug in front of you. "Cream and sugar's on the counter."

You blinked dumbly, struggling to find your footing as Hinata brushed past you towards the kitchen, jostling your shoulder with his warmth. The familiar citrus notes of his body wash and subtle musk wafted over you, conspiring to make your head spin anew with half-remembered sensations.

Clearly seeing your frozen, flustered state, Hinata's brow furrowed slightly in concern as he regarded you. "You okay? You're looking a little...flushed."

His eyes slowly trailed down your body in an unhurried once-over, like a physical caress raising goosebumps across your heated skin. You fought not to squirm beneath that smoldering amber gaze, dark memories of its intensity looming over you threatening to unravel you completely.

Somewhere beneath the indifferent veil, you caught the brief flash of a knowing smirk playing across Hinata's full lips before it disappeared just as quickly.

"Sorry, I'm just...still waking up I guess," you managed to stammer out at last, averting your eyes.

"Well, wake up quickly then!" Hinata clapped you lightly on the shoulder, the innocent touch somehow loaded with suggestion. "I was thinking we could go on a hike together later and explore some of the old trails? For old time's sake."

His brilliant, sly grin was daring you to read between the lines. What fresh depravities might await you two alone on those "old trails"? The question hung unspoken but heavy between you as your tongue slicked unconsciously across your lower lip.

Hinata's eyes followed the movement hungrily, pupils flaring for the barest hint of a moment before regaining their innocuous sheen. Every part of him screamed he was a master at this game of plausible deniability.

"Only if you're feeling up for it, that is," he added smoothly, stepping close enough for his clean, heady scent to cloud your senses anew. A heavy-lidded look was cast your way, not quite a challenge but definitely dangling an unspoken promise of something more if you were brave enough to agree.

Your throat clicked in a dry swallow as you held his piercing gaze, vividly recalling the taste of his tongue in your mouth, the scorching brand of his hands on your body. There would be no going back once you stepped over this line with him, of that you were certain.

"You know what?" you murmured, leaning in until your lips were a hairsbreadth from brushing against the heated skin of his neck. You felt Hinata's pulse kick up in response, a low rumble vibrating from deep in his chest. "I think a nice long hike is exactly what I need to...clear my head."

As you pulled back, you allowed your eyes to trail brazenly down the corded lines of his throat, across the broad expanse of his chest, daring him to stop playing coy and claim what was rightfully his.

Hinata's eyes were molten fire, burning straight through what little restraint still remained between you two. There would be no more childish pining from afar or hollow games of making you wonder - this day in the wilderness would be about finally indulging the ravenous obsession that had simmered too long unchecked.

This time, there would be no going back to how things used to be. One way or another, you were about to get a firsthand taste of just how far Hinata's hunger for you could go when given the chance.

The hike started out innocuously enough, just two old friends exploring familiar trails and reminiscing about days gone by. The warm spring air and lush greenery surrounding you was almost enough to make you forget the raging wildfire of tension simmering between you and Hinata.

Almost, but not quite.

No matter how casual and lighthearted the conversation flowed, you were hyper-aware of every loaded glance, every "accidental" brush of contact searing straight through you. The memory of Hinata's searing kiss was branded into your very cells, stoking an insatiable yearning you hadn't felt in years.

You found yourself unable to meet his eyes for too long without getting lost in their molten depths, breath hitching at the banked intensity that promised so much more if you let it unfurl fully. Hinata seemed to revel in reducing you to a flustered wreck with little more than a heated stare or casual touch skating along your arm.

The atmosphere grew thicker the deeper you ventured into the secluded trails, a heavy silence blanketing you both as words fell away in favor of something else entirely. You could feel the obsessive pull between you cresting towards its inevitable peak.

It happened so fast when it finally snapped - one moment you were walking slightly ahead of Hinata on the narrow path, the next you felt a solid weight slamming into your back as he crowded you up against the nearest tree trunk. The breath punched from your lungs in a harsh gasp, but any noise was swallowed by Hinata's scorching kiss.

His large hands cradled your face in a punishingly tight grip, angling you backwards as he devoured you with the same unrestrained hunger from last night. You clutched the solid plates of his back as he pressed closer, the hard ridge of his cock grinding shamelessly against you.

There would be no preamble, no questioning what was happening between you two this time. The dam had finally burst and Hinata was claiming you as his obsession laid bare at last. When he finally wrenched his lips away with a guttural groan, you were both panting harshly.

"About damn time," was all he rasped out in that ruined timbre before crashing his mouth back against yours.

No more words needed to be exchanged after that. You simply gave yourself over to the onslaught of sensations - his calloused hands roaming hungrily, his hips rutting against you in primal undulations, his harsh pants scorching your neck as he blazed a trail of opened-mouth kisses downward.

Restraint and uncertainty shattered, nothing existed in this moment except for slaking the ravenous cravings that had smoldered between you both for far too long. Years of repressed obsession, of dark desires aching to be indulged, all came pouring out in a frenzy of tangled limbs and desperate caresses.

There would be no going back after this. You had awoken the unrestrained beast in Hinata and he was never letting you go again. But as his skilled fingers deftly divested you of your top and his solid weight pinned you to the forest floor, you found you had no single regret about succumbing so completely to his smoldering hunger.

The frenzied make-out rapidly descended into uncharted territory, hands grasping and exploring with reckless abandon as you both surrendered fully to the raging obsession. Hinata's broad frame was splayed over you, caging you against the forest floor as he rutted shamelessly into the cradle of your thighs.

You arched off the ground with a keening whine, nails raking down the corded muscles of his back as wet heat pooled between your legs. This was really happening - years of repressed yearning were about to finally find their release. Hinata growled deep in his chest, the scorching brand of his tongue searing its path along the slender column of your neck.

Just as you reached up to tug insistently at the hem of his shirt, desperate to divest the offending barrier and feel his searing skin against yours, Hinata suddenly froze. His harsh pants fanned across your flushed cheek as he drew back slightly, eyes glittering with some emotion you couldn't quite decipher.

Before you could even process what was happening, he rolled off of you in one abrupt, fluid movement. The sudden lack of his solid weight crushed you with its absence, leaving you splayed out and utterly wrecked on the forest floor as he rose to tower over you.

You could only gape up at him, chest heaving rapidly from your entwined state moments before. Hinata simply stood there drinking in the sight of you so thoroughly disheveled, eyes blazing with something that looked a lot like triumph etched across his sharp features.

After allowing the weighted silence to stretch tortuously, he bent down to retrieve your discarded top, holding it out to you without a single word. It was like emerging from a fever dream, the abrupt shift disorienting you even further.

You felt heat prickling across your skin as you shakily accepted the offered garment, struggling to cover your breasts with shaking hands. Hinata didn't so much as bat an eyelash, merely turning on his heel and continuing along the trail as if nothing had happened.

"You coming?" he tossed over his nonchalant shoulder after a few paces, as casual as could be.

Still sprawled there in stunned disbelief, you could only stare after him, mouth agape at the whiplash shift. Part of you was mortified at being left utterly debauched on the forest floor. But the larger part, the part that recognized a deliciously depraved game when you saw one, felt a reckless thrill starting to build.

So that was how Hinata wanted to play things - all heated frenzy one moment only to leave you aching and unfulfilled the next with that stoic nonchalance. Well, two could undoubtedly play at that game if that was the case.

Scrambling the rest of the way into a standing position, you hastened to follow after his retreating form. If Hinata thought he could get away with teasing you to the brink like that without some delightfully torturous form of retaliation, he had another thing coming.

By the time you managed to catch up, his expression was a mask of polite obliviousness, the smoldering heat from earlier carefully banked once more. Only the slightest quirk at the corner of his lips hinted that he was well aware of the effect he'd had on you.

"Lovely day for a hike, isn't it?" was all he said, smiling beatifically as you fell into step beside him.

You shot him a sidelong look, letting your eyes deliberately trail down the distinct bulge still tenting the front of his shorts. That innocent facade wouldn't last long once you decided to enact your vengeance, of that you were certain.

"The perfect day," you agreed lightly, gaze skating back up to meet his heavy-lidded stare.

Let the games begin.

The thick tension lingered heavily between you and Hinata in the days following your hike, neither of you acknowledging or discussing what had transpired on the secluded trail. You went about your routines and conversations as normal, but the undercurrent of unresolved desire simmered with every lingering glance and casual touch that felt electric.

Finally, you decided to invite Hinata over for a home-cooked dinner at your place a few nights later, hoping to find some release from the maddening tension. He arrived with that same nonchalant ease, not a hair out of place, as if he hadn't ravaged you against a tree trunk just days prior.

Dinner itself flowed smoothly, the two of you slipping back into familiar banter and catching up. But you didn't miss the way Hinata's piercing stare trailed over your body when he thought you weren't looking, or how his large hands seemed to linger whenever he passed you something.

"You know, I haven't stopped thinking about what happened on that trail," Hinata said abruptly during a lull in conversation. His tone was conversational, but the smoldering look he fixed you with was anything but casual.

You felt your throat go dry under his heated appraisal. "Oh? And what's there to think about?" you managed to reply, keeping your expression carefully neutral despite your rabbiting pulse.

Hinata's lips curved into the barest hint of a smirk, clearly seeing through your nonchalance. He leaned in closer, braced forearms on the table bringing his face mere inches from yours as he lowered his voice to an intimate rumble.

"Don't play coy, you know exactly what I mean. I meant it when I said I've been waiting years for that moment, to finally get my hands on you like I've craved."

His words struck you like a physical caress, raising goosebumps along your heated skin as you fought not to squirm. The raw honesty, the undisguised obsession burning in Hinata's molten gaze made your head spin.

"I've fantasized about you more times than I can count," he continued in that same low timbre laden with promise. "Imagining what you'd look like splayed out underneath me, writhing and whimpering for more while I took you apart piece by piece."

You swallowed hard, suddenly regretting trying to maintain pretenses of normalcy between you two. This clearly was anything but a normal situation – the powerful, athletic man before you was practically vibrating with years' worth of repressed hunger and fixation.

"So no, I haven't stopped thinking about finally claiming what's mine," Hinata concluded, holding your stare captive with smoldering intensity. "And I won't stop until I've had my fill, until you recognize you've belonged to me all along whether you realized it yet or not."

There was no questioning his blunt words, no interpreting the blatant obsession and dark undercurrents driving him now. Hinata had been pushed to the brink, and he was done with subtlety. You were his all-consuming fixation, the object of his ultimate hunger.

And from the way his hooded eyes trailed over your lips, he was making it abundantly clear he had no intentions of stopping until that appetite was finally sated, no matter how long it took.

The heavy silence stretched between you and Hinata, the weight of his ardent confession hanging thick in the air. His burning stare pinned you in place, demanding a reaction even as your brain struggled to process his blunt words and undeniable obsession.

Before you could formulate a response, Hinata abruptly shoved away from the table and closed the distance between you in two long strides. Powerful arms encircled your waist, hauling you flush against the searing wall of his chest as he captured your lips in a scorching, desperate kiss.

You made a muffled noise of surprise against his mouth, but it quickly melted into undisguised want as the dizzying heat of him overwhelmed your senses. This time there was no restraint, no coy suggestion - just Hinata taking with the same unrestrained obsession he had promised.

His large hands roamed hungrily over your curves, bunching the fabric of your top as he angled your head to deepen the frenzied kiss. You clutched at the straining muscles of his back, whimpering at the solid planes you could feel flexing beneath your palms with each roll of his hips grinding shamelessly against you.

Hinata's harsh growl of approval vibrated against your lips before he seized the opportunity to lick inside, tasting and claiming you with fervent sweeps of his tongue. You melted helplessly back against the solid oak of the table digging into your lower back, utterly at his mercy.

There would be no more feigned nonchalance, no more skirting the issue driving this raging obsession between you two. Not when you could feel the undeniable ridge of Hinata's arousal rutting against your pelvis, or the wet heat of him leaving a searing trail down the vulnerable column of your neck.

"Hinata...we shouldn't—ah!" Whatever feeble protest you tried to voice was swallowed by his searing mouth devouring you once more.

"Don't try to deny this, don't try to pretend this hasn't been leading here all along," he all but growled when he finally tore his lips away, pinning you captive with eyes blazing like molten amber. "I'm done with games and holding back. You're mine, whether you can admit it to yourself yet or not."

His calloused fingers deftly worked at the buttons of your top, divesting you of the garment in one smooth tug as he bared your tingling flesh to his smoldering gaze. You shuddered, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed and vulnerable you were beneath his ravenous stare.

But any shred of self-consciousness was forgotten the next instant as Hinata dipped his head, fevered mouth searing a path downwards across your flushed chest. Your breath stuttered in your lungs as he reached the peak of your breast, suckling hard enough to leave a mark before soothing the sting with his tongue.

You couldn't contain the moan that spilled from your lips, the visceral pleasure and aching heat too intense to remain silent. Hinata rumbled his approval, calloused hands gripping your hips in a punishing hold as he continued his relentless onslaught.

The searing trail he blazed over your trembling body was unrelenting, leaving a map of open-mouthed kisses and love bites in his wake. His teeth nipped at the soft flesh of your stomach, followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue and then the graze of his nose as he inhaled your scent.

Every sense was drowning in him - the searing heat of his palms, the heady citrus notes of his cologne, the low growls emanating from deep in his chest as he slowly drove you mad with sensation.

You could feel the throbbing ache growing between your thighs, the telltale dampness soaking your panties. There was no disguising your arousal from him now, no pretending the raw desire coursing through your veins was anything less than the truth.

Hinata was a man possessed, his fixation driving him onward as he dropped to his knees, yanking down your leggings and underwear in one smooth movement. You felt a rush of cool air hit your exposed center, the sudden vulnerability sending a shockwave of goosebumps rippling across your heated skin.

The breath punched from your lungs as Hinata surged forward, burying his face between your legs without warning. You cried out, head dropping back with a thunk against the unforgiving wood of the table as pleasure jolted through you.

He wasted no time, licking a broad stripe up your center before suckling on your clit, making your knees buckle beneath you. All you could do was clutch the short strands of his hair for purchase, gasping and keening with every sweep of his talented tongue.

Hinata seemed just as lost in the frenzy as you, grunts of pleasure reverberating through your very core as he devoured you whole. You could feel his strong arms gripping your hips, pinning you in place while his thumbs rubbed soothing circles over your hipbones.

The sight of him kneeling before you, head buried between your thighs and feasting on your wet cunt with single-minded determination was too much. The white-hot pleasure rapidly crested, threatening to send you hurtling over the edge at any moment.

Your moans grew louder, fingers tightening in Hinata's hair as your climax neared. You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your slick flesh, clearly recognizing how close you were. Then, just as your entire body was coiled tight as a bowstring, poised to snap, Hinata withdrew.

"Wha—why did you stop?" you panted out in a whine, hips canting forward in desperation.

You were so achingly close, could feel the phantom pressure of his tongue where it had just been. You were right on the cusp, teetering on the edge. One more swipe of his skilled tongue and you would have tumbled over.

"Because," Hinata purred, his warm breath ghosting over your throbbing cunt and making you shudder, "there’s no way in hell I'm letting you come unless it's on my cock."

With that, he rose from his knees, dragging his tongue along the column of your throat. You whimpered, the loss of contact making you ache even worse than before. Then Hinata's lips were back against yours, hot and insistent, and you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You groaned, fingers fumbling to tear at the buttons of his shirt and push the offending garment off his shoulders. Hinata made a rumbling noise of approval deep in his chest, calloused fingers tangling in your hair and tilting your head back to deepen the kiss.

The moment his shirt fell away, exposing the hard planes of his sculpted torso, you were clawing at the waistband of his jeans. You wanted him, needed him, craved the feeling of his throbbing cock splitting you open.

Your frenzied movements had him chuckling, the deep sound sending another shiver racing down your spine. But Hinata was just as far gone, his large hands grasping yours and helping to yank down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion.

The sight of his erect cock, swollen and throbbing with precum glistening at the tip, had your mouth going dry. Your eyes trailed down the hard lines of his stomach, taking in the rest of his powerful body. The faint trail of hair leading downwards, the sculpted v-lines that were a roadmap to the most delicious places on earth, and his thick cock standing proud and ready for you.

Hinata growled deep in his throat, seizing your hips in a punishing grip and hoisting you onto the edge of the table. Your thighs parted automatically, a whimper falling from your lips at the rough manhandling.

Then the thick head of his cock was nudging against your slick folds, not quite pushing in but still driving you wild with anticipation. His thumb guided the fat tip along your slit, rubbing it in small circles as he let it dip slightly inside, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

He was watching your face with such rapt intensity, his pupils blown wide and nostrils flaring with every shaky inhale. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, the corded muscles of his stomach twitching and flexing. He was just as lost in the sensation as you were, his self-control slipping the more his cock slid through your folds.

You could feel your arousal coating his thick length, slicking him up with each pass. Hinata's breaths were coming quicker now, his eyelids fluttering and his head dropping forward as he ground his cock along your aching center.

He was right on the cusp, his hips moving erratically. He was trying to hold back, to maintain his composure and tease you even longer. But you could see the cracks starting to show in his mask of restraint, could see how much he was struggling to hold himself back.

Just when the tension was about to snap, Hinata reached down, grasping his cock at the base and giving it a few rough pumps. His eyes rolled back in his head, a deep groan of pleasure rumbling through his chest as he came.

Thick ropes of cum painted your stomach and breasts, dripping down his fist as his cock pulsed and twitched in his grip.

It was so fucking hot, so depraved, to have Hinata's release marking your body, to know you had driven him to this level of ecstasy.

He gave a shuddering gasp, eyelids fluttering open as the last dregs of his orgasm washed over him. The look of utter satisfaction on his face as he took in the mess he'd made of you, the possessive gleam in his eye as he raked his gaze over your body, was enough to have you aching and needy all over again.

You watched on curiously as he reached over to grab his phone, aiming the camera at you. Your mouth went dry at the realization of what he was doing, a jolt of pleasure rushing through you at the thought.

"Don't move," Hinata murmured, voice heavy with satisfaction and desire. "I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. You don’t know how many times I've fantasized about this, how often I've jerked myself raw thinking of you covered in my cum."

The click of the camera captured the moment forever, the proof of your mutual debauchery immortalized on the screen. His lips curved into a sinful smirk, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"My turn," he growled.

In the next instant, he had you pinned back against the table, his weight settling on top of you as his tongue dragged through the mess on your stomach. You whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair and hips canting upwards to seek out some kind of relief.

Hinata hummed his approval, lapping up every last drop of his release before shifting further upward, licking and nipping his way across your heaving chest.

His cock was already hard again, pulsing and grinding against your soaked folds. The heat of him was searing, setting your body ablaze with pleasure. He was teasing you, torturing you, his lips sucking a dark bruise along the sensitive skin of your neck.

"You know," he murmured, hips rolling in an unhurried pace, his words a rumble against your ear, "I could get used to this view."

A strangled moan escaped your lips as his cockhead notched against your entrance, the heady promise of release just within reach. Hinata was still teasing you, dragging his shaft along your soaked slit as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.

"But if I'm going to keep fucking you on this table, I need to make sure you won't spill any leftovers."

You could feel his lips curve into a smirk, the barest hint of a chuckle vibrating through his chest. But you were too far gone, too lost in the sensation of his thick cock sliding through your folds and grazing your throbbing clit.

Your entire body was tensed like a bowstring, wound up so tightly that the slightest movement would snap it. And when Hinata finally, finally, pushed his thick cock inside you, the string snapped.

You cried out, arching off the table as stars exploded behind your eyelids. Pleasure unlike anything you'd ever experienced washed over you in waves, your cunt spasming around the solid girth stretching you open. You felt the foreign sensation of something liquid gushing from your pussy, coating Hinata's cock and your inner thighs.

"Fuck," Hinata hissed, his head dropping to your shoulder. "Did you just squirt? You didn’t tell me you were a squirter, fuck, that's so fucking hot."

He sounded almost drunk, his words slurred as he started thrusting into you. Each pump of his hips had another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body convulsing and clenching around his cock.

Hinata fucked you through the aftershocks, his hips slamming into you and driving his cock impossibly deep. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, fingernails digging into the straining muscles as you held on for dear life.

He was relentless, pounding into you and chasing his own release. The wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt, the harsh slap of his balls against your ass, the groans and grunts escaping his throat – all of it only heightened the sensations overwhelming your body.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, a string of curses falling from your lips as the pressure built once again. This time you knew you wouldn't be able to hold back, wouldn't be able to keep from exploding into a million pieces.

The tension was coiling tighter, your body trembling as Hinata fucked you harder. It was too much, the pleasure was too intense, it was almost painful. You were so close, you were almost there, you just needed a little more, a little—

"Oh god," you cried, your body arching off the table as your cunt clenched around his cock, gushing another flood of liquid.

Hinata let out a growl, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You could feel his cock pulsing and twitching, his breathing ragged and uneven. He was right there with you, his own climax building.

"That's it," he rasped, his grip on your hips bruising as he slammed into you. "Fuck, I can feel your cunt milking my cock, fuck, fuck, fuck—"

With a final cry, his hips stuttered and he came, his cock spurting ropes of cum deep inside you. The sensation of his hot release filling you up, the feeling of his cock pulsing and twitching as he emptied himself, was enough to send you over the edge again.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing and gushing around his cock. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, running down your thighs and soaking the table beneath you.

"God, I love watching you squirt," Hinata growled, his eyes half-lidded as he watched his release leak from your cunt. "I could do this all day, watch you cream all over my cock and soak this table. You're so fucking hot."

You could only moan, your body completely spent and limp from the intensity of your orgasms. Hinata pulled out, his softening cock slipping from your pussy with a wet squelch. More cum leaked from your cunt, dribbling down your thighs.

He scooped some up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you with a satisfied smirk. You shuddered, the feeling of his cum inside you making your cunt clench around his digits.

"Mmm, we're gonna need to do a lot more work to make sure none of this leaks," he purred, his other hand trailing over your stomach and smearing the remnants of his release into your skin. "We can't let any of this go to waste, now can we?"

You whimpered, his words and touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. He chuckled, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your cum-filled pussy.

"That's right," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a scorching kiss. "Let's see just how many times I can make you squirt before the night's over."

[yanderestarangel]

✧ 𑂴 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 | 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐓 X 𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐖: v!sex, dirty fantasies, sex dreams, v!sex, porn plot, praise kink, sex in the car, soft!dom mike, ftm reader, creampie.

Mike's concerns were never limited to just family and economic environments, not just capitalism and the concern of keeping his memory and taking care of the only person he had left - Abby - but also romantic parameters, and unfortunately he couldn't cope. get rid of such feelings... Feelings for you.

You were his coworker - always smiling and asking if he was okay or not, it made the security guard's day happier and more comforting, even if you were just being a polite person. Mike was a lonely man with several problems, and even though he was embarrassed, the only escape route he had were erotic dreams about you.

It all started involuntarily, with him going to sleep thinking about how you touched him that day - it was a simple touch on his hand at lunch, but enough for him to feel the heat of your skin transmit to him - Schmidt felt his member throb in his pants when thinking about what it would be like to touch his body, treating him gently, how he could be a little rough with you hitting his dick in your little hole while forcing you to look deep into his eyes giving him more motivation to continue hitting your body with his hips, he was already a hostage to his own desires.

"-Oh fuck..." he whispered, still in a state of deep sleep, sweat ran down his forehead while a hand went against his erection, instinctively while goosebumps formed on his skin. The image of your pussy, your body, your face, slowly riding and slobbering on his dick was too vivid-just a fantasy in his brain, but it was a fantasy he couldn't lie about that was pleasurable in every way.

The days passed more and more tortuously... Every touch, smile and conversation, every reverberation of your voice was enough for Mike's brain chemistry to change and everything to spin, his dick was pulsing in his pants and he needed some relief or simply asking you out - he didn't just want sex, but sex was also included in his intense and lustful passion for you - so, the man asked you to have a beer and take a walk around, a calm stroll through the monotonous small town night, no worries, no more fantasies, something real and invigorating; That was all Mike wanted.

His car was a hot and stuffy space, but the cold, bitter sip you took every moment from the beer bottle made your system cool a little. Mike seemed genuinely cheerful after a while, smiling widely and telling bad jokes that made you smile at his cute attempt to distract you from his poor choice of first date location... After all, even if he didn't make it clear, it was a date. Schmidt soon began to make you more comfortable with small respectful touches, some caresses on your thighs, cheeks or even a quick kiss on the forehead, while he leaned against the bench and looked at you with his black eyes, resting his face on his closed wrists.

"-You know... I always thought you were a pretty boy." Mike spoke in a husky voice filled with desire underlying whatever fear stood in the way of the advances he hadn't made. Then, everything was too fast for your brain to process - Mike above you, his hands were holding your thighs with your ankles resting on his shoulders, his thick, pulsing cock was moving in and out of your pussy, his hands were squeezing your soft flesh until that his fingertips were white - it was a way for the poor man to feel that you were actually real, not just another comforting dream he'll have as the months go by -

"-That's it... My boy is taking my cock so well... Damn (Y/N) you're so fucking tight." Mike moaned loudly as he removed his shaft from your core, only to rub it against your clit, making you moan his name even more - he slowly thrust back in making each movement count, making you arch your back for more fiction.

"-S-So fucking cute- oh fuck baby boy, do you know how much I dreamed about fucking you? How much I wanted that pussy wrapped around my dick?" He confesses between moans, he didn't really care anymore if what he said was dirty or immoral, he needed to let you know how much he wanted you. "-I just wanted to fuck you, turn you into mine, filled with my cum..."

Mike expected to see some sign of repulsion or disgust, but you just moaned and rubbed your own clit, looking for more of that forbidden and newly discovered pleasure. "-You always wanted this... deep down you knew I would never resist you." You wrapped your arms around him, holding on for dear life as he fucked you senseless.

He grabbed an arm, pulling your body closer to him as he continued to ravage your pussy relentlessly. His breathing became difficult and sweat ran from his forehead to his, mixing in an erotic dance. "-Fuck, beautiful boy, squeeze that little pussy on my dick- yes! Fuck exactly like that, good boy, such a good boy for me-!" You soon felt your cunt milking Mike to the last drop of sperm, feeling your walls close around him - He grunted loudly, spilling everything into your uterus.

"-Take it all, take my load like the good boy you are."

You soiled the antique leather seats beneath you, but he didn't care about the mess at that moment, just slowly pulling out of you and lowering himself between your legs, placing kisses on your aching pussy and leaking his cum.

"-You don't know how much I'm in love with you baby..." He looked deep into your eyes, and by the glow you saw in his orbs - he was obviously being sincere, the world stopped and it was just you and Mike that moment, and that was all he needed at the moment... You.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 16

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

@garbagemilkshake and I thought that something a bit more on the fan service side would be fun for this week's chapter art and I totally didn't write a whole additional scene to make it happen.

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

Folate.

You were sick of spinach.

It seemed to only have two settings: crunchy or snotty. Donnie had done his best to be creative, but it was within those two confines that you were stuck. Any sort of cooking preparation reduced the leaves to slim slime. It was tolerable enough baked into Florentines or strung up through pasta, but as time wore on, eating it became a chore. You found yourself sifting through your food to gobble down the spinach first so you could have a few blessed bites without it.

The same went with salads. While there were any number of preparations or sauce options, at a base level you were eating roughage. The greens came in a litany of hues, but their flavors hadn’t ranged much. Spinach blended in while radicchio stood out, but the concept at its core was a monotonous one. The real trouble came with pesticides and bacteria. While Donnie couldn’t smell the latter, their proliferation meant he could scent when a product was off. You shopped at a number of places to get the best produce, but you were still riding a 50/50 line where the vegetables would need to be tossed, just in case, for your growing fetus’ health. 

You didn’t want to hang your entire folate consumption on spinach, but the matter had seemingly been taken away from you. Fortified cereals were either too processed or blander than if you had eaten wheat straight from the plant. From there, other fruits and vegetables scaled with trace amounts except for asparagus. You once enjoyed the stalk roasted and beside a nice fish, but your body’s shifts had started.

You could no longer digest the vegetable properly.

The first time it had happened, you couldn’t identify the issue. You ate a day’s worth of food and you were awoken in the darkened early morning with stomach cramps. They persisted until you had a bowel movement and the next day Donnie poured over the causes. Your lunch was swapped out, but you ran on a meal plan for dinner which meant a repeat of the same effect. You had a snack of only asparagus on a hunch after that and the ensuing bathroom trip was a third time shame on you before you cut it out of your diet.

Calcium.

Your giant vitamin wasn’t doing enough.

It was yet another thing you had trouble noticing at first. Your legs had been achey, but there weren’t necessarily alarm bells for you. Days where you were a little more stationary at work had the same effect. You were moving into your tenth week of pregnancy and, while there certainly wasn’t enough weight inside you for those sorts of aches to build up, you figured maybe it was your little bean. Donnie had examined your gait and further reassured that you had yet to walk differently. Your hips were relatively fine, but you found that particularly in the morning, your calves pinched. Donnie rubbed them to encourage blood flow, but felt no makings of muscle tension.

It was the calcium.

You hadn’t even needed to bring it up during your eleventh week visit with Dr. Kuro.

You had simply winced when getting off the exam table and she caught the movement with flicking ears.

She promptly informed you that low levels of the mineral were often related to muscle cramps as calcium aided in contraction. Donnie’s gaze had gone glazed for missing something so obvious, but Dr. Kuro talked him down. She had seen glimpses of his intense concern over making every little thing right and put you both side by side in chairs. She spoke to the supposed rules of pregnancy and, without trying to scare either of you, specified that you could do everything right and things might not go as intended.

She perforated the fear with a teasing that if you followed all the scare tactics then you would be left with nothing to eat at all.

Dairy became a staple in your diet after that.

It wasn’t something you obsessed over prior, but it became a necessity. You had trouble downing a glass of milk straight for what it did to your intestines, but sprinkling cheese and the like throughout your dishes added the necessary pop. Your legs loosened near immediately and your required baseline of calcium was raised. That came not with a heftier pill, but a larger dosage and further blood tests. Dr. Kuro reminded you that you were finding the norms for something totally unique so there would be some adjustment. As long as nothing ever got too uncomfortable, you were safe to experiment.

You swore to tell Dr. Kuro about every single little change that happened to your body after that.

You doubted she minded.

Vitamin D.

In your uneducated days, fish had seemed like some damning entity to pregnancy. Whispers of mercury levels and haunting tales of sushi made the entire ocean into something to be avoided. It was further perpetuated by the dreaded colossal fish oil pills, which were supposedly the only substitute. Maybe because of their name, but you had always equated fish oil with snake oil in your mind. That was an issue for pregnant people you had thought before and had never minded expensive baubles that looked like edible glass.

You hadn’t had any restrictions before. 

Now that you did, you found that your misconception was just that. 

Fish was good for pregnancy. 

Mostly. 

It all seemed obvious enough until you actually began to learn about the product. In an annoying pendulum swing, what went from bad to good then apparently went rotten again. Nearly all commercial salmon was brightened to its signature orange via a color additive. Natural caught fish touted an organic brightness, but then there was talk of fishing practices. Sustainable or not was difficult to find out by design and hatcheries supposedly lost the necessary nutrition value. You were damned if you did and damned if you didn’t and all the while there were imaginary eyes on you.

It was an inkling you had because you had been there. You could see yourself, heavy with child, and surrounded by whispers about what you did or did not eat. The judgment was imminent and, though no stranger could probably tell you were pregnant, you were aware of others. You watched on as those who were perceived to be carrying had to act as if they weren’t being whispered about. People had endless things to say about business that wasn’t theirs. Others would soon think they had a say in what you did with your body and baby and you were haunted by that fact.

Donnie was both worse and better in that regard. Your mate respected you, but he was also beholden to his science. Before you were pregnant, there hadn’t been much mention toward what you consumed. Your mate had his own long stemming issues with food that he was slowly recovering from to this day. His interest in it waned with the more dishes he tried and he’d long phased out of drives to cook. He now did it for the sake of balancing household work, but his time of experimentation had passed. 

Your baby was an entirely new entity. 

Right when his interest had settled, he had been forced to become hyper aware of consumption yet again. A new life that was not his own depending on it and therefore he couldn’t just throw random supplements to keep it going. He wanted the best for your child and that came with knowing all about where each morsel came from or did. In an instant, he was trailing company ledgers to find out an entire life cycle of any given product. He didn’t knock his enriched foods of old, but he saw them differently. There was science to what the body could absorb and digest. He lived by your vitamins, but saw their limitations. Anything synthesized resulted in a poorer uptake of nutrients than from what he was now forced to categorize as real food and then just like with fish as a concept, so came the counter swing. 

Those same labs that made the vitamins and supplements also often had a hand in the fortification of those supposedly real foods. The scare tactics around genetically modified foods was a hoax at best. He had gone on long winded tangents about how selective breeding fell under the umbrella which had been done long before the idea of intercepting genes in seeds was a concept. Unfortunately it mattered little what your mate thought on the concept as larger companies had long been pillaging the market. They affected germination only to boost dividends and destroyed small farms in the process. They eliminated competition both literally and amongst the very produce they sought to monopolize. The swinging pendulum of the good and bad of industry was exhausting your mate.

It hollowed him out for his basal attitude, which you had long known to be staunch. He voiced his opinions boldly and his current one regarded what you ate. You were fine with taking his opinion at first, since you were actually interested in those. Your interests aligned there and that was why you let him sift through vegetables. You wanted your baby to be just as happy and healthy so it was easy to let him sniff out pesticides or leaves wilting from unknown branches of E. coli, but the moment you got to fish it went a proverbial overboard.

There were many types of fish. Some were farm raised and others came from fancy fishmongers. There was preparation. There was an endless ocean of what could and could not be done to get a fish to a plate. Before you even began your discussion, you could sense discomfort wafting off of him. The factors were as endless as the unknowns about your baby and it was unsettling especially to the man who preached science as his gospel. It was the only sense he had for many years and seeing it round on him illustrated the failings of society. For every advancement in food safety, there was a greedy corporate hound there to dismantle it.

He played his own part with Genius Built. Your forkfuls were bites of a moral conundrum. Donnie approached the debate on the side of banning fish. Its industry above all others posed the greatest risk. You had landed on the side of wanting to eat it. Instead of a fight, you had both stewed in silence. 

Together you had exhausted all information. You were prepared for Donnie to persuade you. Instead, he waited. He knew duality better than most. The norm was usually choosing whatever lesser evil pertained to the individual. In this area, you chose for him. 

You were growing your child after all. You compromised and set a standard that would be applied to whatever foods came next. There would be a limit on how much time you could weigh the benefits of a food item. If it became a headache, then it would be thrown out. If you felt strongly about eating something, then exceptions could be made.

You would do your best and that was all you could do.

Protein.

After the limitations were set, you could tell Donnie thrived under the parameters. With a time limit, he could no longer go on adding pros and cons until it drove him mad. He had a certain window in which to research and that eased his mind. While all of it was dedicated to you in some way, you liked having him around attentively instead of distracted by research about how to do right by you or your baby.

You also stepped in. After fish had illustrated the dark side of food consumption while pregnant, you made yourself present during the meal planning. You sat down with him once a week and did your best to decide together what to eat. You picked out things you were craving and built up around that. When you weren’t particularly feeling anything, you then chose lighter fare and left days open for exploration. You used them up eating out at restaurants where the components of a dish were known. You acknowledged your privilege in getting to do so, but balanced it amongst what seemed like waning time with your mate.

There would soon be another person vying for your attention and you were more aware of it in your thirteenth week. It marked the occasion where there was a stark drop off in the chance that you would miscarry. You made the date an entire night out with your mate and he partook without reservation. Those consecutive visits that you thought might be tedious suddenly blossomed into a journey.  That live feed, static cam footage of what was happening inside of you continued to grow and with it your confidence. You were going to have a baby with the love of your life and you spent a balmy July night wrapped up in that knowledge.

You then spent the next day planning meals around chicken.

It felt like a comical omen of things. For as fantastical as your world was, there was an inevitable dose of reality. Donnie’s endless pocket book did little when crafting a daily menu. You guessed the less sensible of his type of elite had someone else do this sort of thing, but Donnie had never been anything less than hands on. You owned a set of aged mismatched Tupperware like anyone else. You filled containers with a rice medley and tried to dole out even amounts even while the vessels varied in shape. They came with you as you went to work and you waited in the same line when it came time to reheat your food in the microwave.

It was grounding.

In the world where Dr. Kuro was taking notes like she would soon publish multiple prize winning scientific papers, you were still you.

You had no plans of quitting this life when the baby was born.

Donnie had more than enough time to take the role of a stay at home parent and you relished the thought. You pictured him with towels on his shoulder for spit up and the ensuing gag he’d surely make for each diaper. You bet he would fashion himself a mask to preserve his nostrils and he’d strap in with an entire suit to protect his person from fluids. There was no way he’d actually be able to subvert the dirtiness that came with babies and you bet as soon as Lady Nagami found out that she would be  wringing her hands at the increased income stream coming her way. 

Your husband in an apron.

Your husband with a lump that looked just like him sleeping on his chest.

Your husband exhausted in the middle of the night as he soothed a sobbing infant.

You mooned it all until someone popped your bubble with a comment about your food having long finished warming in the microwave.

You excused an additional 15 seconds to get that extra boiling temp amongst teasing groans.

You ate with your coworkers and caught up on gossip.

Things were looking up. 

Iron.

Spinach was back.

In reality, it had been back. 

It was your most dreaded super food.

It had been haunting you since your days of calcium.

Popeye vexed you in ways you couldn’t quite articulate.

You almost wished you could chug down a can like him in one gulp.

You would swallow your daily dose whole and be done with it.

Instead, you reconsidered your position on fortified foods. It was in your fourteenth week that you walked right up to where Donnie was sitting at his desk. He spun his chair to address you openly and you cleanly told him, “I need a break from spinach. I want to barter on juice and cereal!”

He approached the metaphorical table with folded hands in front of his mouth. “Go on.”

“You make the juice and we do a cereal taste test.”

You had clearly thought over your proposal and he dropped his act. He accepted and asked if he had forced the greenery on you. You told him that he hadn’t, but you were on your last nerve with the repetition. You both ruminated on all the benefits as a way to give spinach it's time before you let it go. You left the chance open that you might return to it, but in the meantime you ordered a juicer.

It was delivered the next day and Donnie studied how best to utilize it. The planter Spencer had sent over soon multiplied. Where one box hung ornamental flowers, another soon sat with wheat grass and additives. Actual herbs were located amongst your other vegetables on the roof and with that, you planned an exploratory trip to a farmer’s market that weekend. 

The sun cooked the summer day and your large hat did little amongst the persisting heat. Even Donnie in his layers seemed worn by it and you ended up purchasing drink after drink. You found a particular blend of fresh juice and lemon ginger tea to be a hallmark amongst your sips. Donnie probed the purveyor and found him to be satisfying enough that he purchased a set of juices from the stand. You haul was then supplemented with a few produce items you didn’t grow yourself and you returned to send them through the blades of your machine. 

Each morning that followed would come with you and Donnie teasing each other with concoctions in the kitchen. You made up for the loss in fiber from fruit by tossing in things like flax through the juicer. It seemed like a silly act at the time, but you and your mate both found that it mixed in well. A spice grinder soon appeared and you were putting peppery spins of drinks for the sake of it.

By the fifteenth week, you welcomed spinach back, but only if it was joined by the quintessential apple a day and a few other vitamin boosting and flavor covering pals and ground beyond its textures and into something new.

You got used to lugging around colorful sips in a handy insulated bottle and it was something you toted around. Most places cared little in the city if you had a water bottle and you took advantage of that. You found it easier to sip mindlessly while you did other activities. It worked almost as an idling method while you thought, which was something you did in front of a wall of cereals.

Donnie’s glasses were especially flared in their dual colors as he analyzed the lot and you waited nearby. You had long learned at this point not to be swayed by anything written on the packaging. You were chained to ingredient’s lists. They were the closest you could get to the honest truth of a food’s make-up and Donnie had modified his glasses to sweep through that and a company’s procedure with only a glance.

“Options!” Your mate spoke suddenly and surged forward.

You sucked from your straw and leaned against your cart as you waited.

Donnie picked things off the shelf in a growing stack.

You watched them increase to a brow raising level before he walked the balancing act over to you.

He lined them up in a standing row and swept a hand over top. “Here’s a viable selection, my dearest.”

“That’s more than I thought.” You leaned forward on the cart’s handle to overlook the bounty.

“Quite.”

“You always think it’ll all be sugary.” You refused to move and stepped up on the lower cart bar.

Donnie grabbed the basket so it wouldn’t move.

“Take out that third one. Catalina Crunch is not a cereal. They like to pretend. It’s totally just cardboard meant to be eaten dry.” You pointed.

He plucked the selection free and returned it to the shelf.

“A few of these are the same brand.”

“I selected within your taste preference.” He returned just as the cart started to roll and stopped it with his foot. “Shall we further narrow?”

You sighed as if put out and hopped off the cart. Donnie took his turn to lean as you joined his side. He watched you instead of your choices as you flipped through the boxes. You plucked two from the same brand whose names were one word off and compared them back to back. There was an odd difference in calories while all the other nutrition facts seemed the same. The ingredients list revealed little, but time crept up on you. You ended up tossing out both options and left the store with seven total cereals.

You parted from Donnie and the bags at the door when you got home. Your husband was none the wiser as he twisted with his totes and made sure everything was closed. He sauntered over to meet you in the kitchen and paused when he saw you had a litany of bowls out. He reviewed the many dishes and you turned to him with two spoons and a sparkling gaze.

“We’ll need a rinsing process or a new utensil each time for an adequate taste test.” He spoke with metered affection.

You leapt at him and he took your weight with a hefty squeeze.

You were sat down, but he didn’t leave where he was pressed to you as you dolled out cereal.

You opened a box at a time and he poured the milk with a flourished grace. You teased him about what kind of barista he would have been and he scoffed at the concept. You went on through your first bite to mention how he ground his own beans. By your third and fourth bowls you added how finicky he was about water temperature. He was darting his eyes by the sixth bowl as you detailed his organic cotton filters and his gooseneck kettle.

By the last bowl, you had two cereals chosen and an alternate line of work for your husband.

You spun a yarn about your twilight years as Donnie cleaned up. The rest of the cereal was sealed off and bound to be downed by that exact man. You would join him on a few of the options for the sake of it, but he never particularly cared to down a food as long as it was inoffensive to him.

He listened attentively to your tale about how your kids would be grown and moved out. They’d have illustrious careers and the two of you would give up city life. You’d find a lake that better mimicked Donnie’s biodome and buy it outright. He’d improve the ecosystem, set up a nature preserve, and the café on the edge of the grounds would fund it. You would live in a house connected to it and spend lazy days surrounded by nature and the sweet smells of coffee.

“Will they come to visit?” Donnie whispered as you finished up your story.

“Our kids?” You looked at him.

He nodded one anxious time.

You smiled and took your time in dusting cereal flakes from his black ensemble. “Every year.”

That response seemed too tepid for him, but you weren’t done.

“Instead of just Christmas, they take the whole last few weeks of the year off to stay with us. The oldest picks up pond study where your knees have been giving you trouble and our youngest whines about how there aren't better shops nearby. You remind them that you asked for their lists beforehand so you can order everything, but they always forget.”

Donnie slacked and came in closer.

“Then there’s the surprise visits and we lose count. One of them gets dumped and drives out and shows up in the middle of the night looking like a mess. You spend the whole night cheering them up and plotting some poor kid’s take down. Sometimes they get bored and pop in with a silly, ‘we were in the area.’ Then there’s the grandkids. They love the water and their pop-pop.”

“Pop-pop?” The illusion was broken and Donnie chuffed.

“You would want something silly like that.”

“Papa.” Donnie spoke with a sharp edge.

“Isn’t that for dads?” You teased.

“Could be for both…” He had a soft, unrelenting smile.

You guessed it was. 

Exercise.

“It’s been three months.” Donnie spoke as he moved the sofa.

“Mhm.” The bundle of your mat was clutched to your chest.

“Well?”

You feigned a listless gasp.

His cheeks puffed out the slightest amount as he set the furniture aside.

“My beloved Donatello, corrupted by gossip!” You continued on and rolled out your mat.

Said man rounded toward you with his displeasure.

You laughed and spread out your hands to get the corners down.

He waited with a grouch above you.

You cutely rolled onto your back and looked up at him.

He had to school himself to keep his features annoyed.

“I know what you’re asking, but I kind of want to hear you say it.”

He frowned deeply.

You sat up long enough to locate your resistance band.

He paced mentally and it showed in the slightest bob of his body.

You flopped back down with less grace and stretched the band between your hands.

“What happened with Coral and Nelson?” He all but snapped the truth of his question.

Your grin split your face.

He dropped down to squat beside you and waited.

“You’re so cute.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Patently incorrect. I do not have enlarged eyes, rounded cheeks, or comparatively small bone structure.”

“You’re describing babies.”

He was further put out and a protesting whine caught in his throat.

“Adorable.” You told him with full admiration.

He wilted with his large arms. “Darling…”

“I’m not teasing you.”  You explained. “I really do think so, Sweet. I’ve thought so since the moment we met. I thought you were handsome and then I thought you were cute.”

“Your taste…” He ushered and clearly held himself back from touching you.

You stretched with the band and brushed the backs of your hands together for the sake of it.

He churred softly.

“Okay, so the pilates move I’ve been having trouble with…” You laid down and gave the resistance band some length before hiking your legs up and tucking your heels into it.

He watched on with some gripe oozing off of him.

You would tell him what he wanted to know, but couldn’t help but drum up suspense. “So there’s a machine to do this in, but theoretically I shouldn’t need it.

You stretched out your legs and the band came with you. You wrapped the rubber around your palms for a good hold and brought your legs straight up into the air. You kept the band from snapping away with pointed toes and then tried to split your legs, but your heels caught on the rubber.

“See.”

Donnie let go of some of his complaints and his head wove in observation. “What is the machine like?”

“It has separate bands for each leg.”

“Easier to split.” He hummed.

“Exactly.”

“Socks?” He wondered.

“I can’t use them. Too much grip.”

He frowned and stood to approach your legs.

“She’s still doing the class, obviously.” You snuck in. “Coral, I mean.” 

Donnie continued to examine your feet.

“I think she likes it. It’s not really a super sweaty kind of workout. I think it's fine. I get that it's a low impact exercise, but some of the ways the teacher can stretch are terrifying…! Like she’ll do a jackknife, go into control balance, and then she backwards somersault into a crab!”  

“Is this how you were told to do it?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Your teacher, she’s a career instructor?”

“Yeah, after doing ballet when she was young.”

He nodded once before tapping your legs.

You brought them down and safely freed the band.

“I’m unfamiliar with resistance training, but I recognize a pulley.”

He urged you to sit up.

You did so and watched as he went for your gym bag. He gathered a toning tube and traded it out for your loop band. After stowing the other item, he returned and had you sit with your legs out. He started with your right and slipped the handle around your foot. He then wound around your back so the band stretched and pulled against the resistance to do the same to your left foot. “Now try.”

“It’ll slip when I stick my legs out.”

He openly thought. “Being on your back isolates leg muscles, but the band should compensate. Does the motion require your legs to straighten?”

It was your turn to ponder. “No…? I’m supposed to go up, out, and in to stretch the pelvis.”

“Rendering start position irrelevant.”

You nodded and laid back.

It took some adjusting to lay comfortably on a rubber cord, but you eventually managed. Once you were settled, you pulled at the band with your knees folded and were careful in raising your legs up. You soon had them extended high and rolled outward for the necessary spreading motion. The band undulated beneath you, but stayed in place until you completed one rep of the exercise.

“We got it!” You cheered and did a few more for the sake of it.

“Discuss with your teacher if this is appropriate.”

“And if not I’ll find out why.” You sent him knowing affection.

He lavished in it.

“So Coral and I have done seven total weeks of pilates. That’s three more than the three month deadline of asking Nelson out.”

Donnie’s head lifted with attention.

You held out eye contact.

His pupils darted through a few imagined scenarios before he finally looked at you. 

“Their first date is next week.”

He perked up with high brows. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

“He asked her.”

Donnie got to his knees and addressed you fully. “Explain.”

You laughed and continued to stretch your legs. “They say exercise boosts confidence. Nel’s never really had that, but he’s been doing this circuit training thing since his last girlfriend or whatever. The three month deal deadline came up and Coral said she was looking for the best time to spring it on him which is so weird for her. I figured she would just blurt it out, but I guess it’s different since they’ve known each other for years. Anyway, she got home from the gym one day at the same time as him. He made them both quinoa because it’s good after a workout or whatever and boom, he served it up, told her there was a place that makes way better, and asked if she wanted to go.”

Donnie slowly took in the information.

“Oh and she did blurt out asking if that was a date. I guess he laughed and said it was if she wanted and she berated him for being noncommittal.”

“They’ll last weeks at most.” He chuffed.

“Or forever. No in-between.” You chuckled.

You folded your legs to end your exercise and watched Donnie trace the movement.

“Wanna try?”

“My prosthetic.” His gaze pinched. “I can fashion an attachment.”

“Like I’d start you here!” You playfully sat up. “I’m a bonafide intermediate!”

“I see…” He deferred to you even though he had leagues of fighting experience that made that statement particularly inaccurate and gave you an idea. 

“We should remember the grip thing…” You got off the mat so he could get on. “Since you’re new and all.”

He took your spot. 

“It’s better-no safer with bare skin and it would be way too much trouble for you to change into your gym clothes so you should ditch your pants…”

He saw right through your game with narrowed eyes. 

You waited with excitement that would have had your tail wagging if you had one. 

He was obvious in giving up for a show and arched to get his waistband. “You are the intermediate.” 

“Yay!” You cheered as softly as you could before biting your lip at your husband’s chiseled form.

💜 NEXT 💜

Thank you to my beta @tmntxthings 

[predakings-den]

Chapter 1: The Lab-grown Experiments

Word count: [1426]

Content Warning: [None]

He had revealed his form, a choice he believed wise in order to be taken seriously by these Decepticons. No longer is he stuck as a draconic being of metal and circuits, shrieking with his mandibles outstretched and large wings reeled back as a means to threaten. His new form is just as formidable, with a crown of horns protruding from his helm and a sharp, weary faceplate that made him come across as older than he felt. Predaking was met with surprised expressions from his superiors, crippling trepidation and dread from that pathetic Air Commander, and a sudden new sense of commitment as he realized the intention of this specific site.

Shockwave’s secondary laboratory, nestled in the caverns, now harbors the latest “pet project” as the others had liked to call it behind his back, or even in front of him, believing his intelligence to be that of a primitive creature. Predaking gazes upon the rows of test tubes decorating the underground lab in a hue of green lighting, with large cables connecting the tanks to a generator and a control panel where data is monitored, collected, and stored for Shockwave’s use.

Inside each containment chamber is a curled-up Predacon, growing and alive in their slumber. There’s a variety of what humans may recognize as mythical creatures thought to be in myths and legends. A plethora of beaks, wings, claws, and maws can be seen.

His large claws press gently against the warm glass. There was no outward response, but he could feel it, a pull on his EM field, albeit faint. The thought has crossed his processor every now and then when he was but a warhorse with no real designation. A question lingered: where were the rest of his people? And that knowledge has had the time to settle in his tanks like an endless pit. They were offline, decimated by either the radiation that had plagued Cybertron’s surface long ago in the Great Cataclysm where they starved underneath the shelter of dirt and rock, or driven mad stellar cycles ago.

Even now, these caverns strike a quiet unease with the Predacon, a fear of some sort or… Perhaps a memory from long ago, etched deep into the bones that Shockwave had cloned him from.

He could hardly believe such little beings, so vulnerable and exposed, can evolve to one of Cybertron’s greatest beasts of the past. How? They’re practically tiny bits of soft metal and exposed biolights, still developing their tough exterior.

He could be always be patient, until Shockwave's process is complete. He doesn't understand the exact science behind it, the cloning and accelerated growth procedure, but he trusted the Decepticon scientist to continue his work with the same chilling dedication.

"Would you like to feed them?"

Predaking perks up as he hears Shockwave's monotone vocalizer ending the silence between him and the Predacon pups. He takes a lingering glance at the science officer. "How so? Are they not sleeping?" It sure seems to be the case, as they have been quite unresponsive to the vast world around them. In Shockwave’s optic, Predaking taps the glass as if he were a youngling curious, although much larger in stature.

Shockwave walks over to a large crate of yellow vials. He hands him a few and Predaking cautiously sniffs. There appears to be no scent to this so-called meal that Shockwave is implying them to be. Regardless, the scientist continues droning on. "They absorb nutrients through the liquid they lie in, and every spark needs a certain amount to maintain a healthy core. It didn't take too long to develop a concoction similarly to the nutrients sparklings are provided naturally. All I needed were the correct ingredients, procured by those willing to aid in my research."

“I only considered the next logical step was to add… supplements of a sort. After all, I strive to improve in reference to previous works.”

Predaking chuffs and avoids his blaring optic. As if the ultimate being had imperfections. He is powerful in strength, his size indomitable, a Predacon in his prime and yet Shockwave finds flaws in his making?

He almost thinks to ask for the specifics, but Shockwave ignores his questions and leads him to the control panel, finding his personal inquiries asked to be of unimportance in the current moment or at any time really. "Now, insert five vials into these slots.”

The Predacon stares at the yellow vials, small in their little glass containers, so he feels fit to comment. “Five hardly seems enough for ten little ones.” And he nearly shrinks at the scientist’s stare. There is no emotion that can be read, but the feeling of… inadequacy stings at his spark for asking what the officer appears to see as menial queries.

Again, the scientist pays no mind to his observation and gestures to the control panel. “Each individual button is a labeled tank. The gray button is for fueling, the red is the release.”

Predaking follows along, inserting the vials, and then slowly presses the gray buttons with one large claw. In a few seconds, the green containment chambers turn a more vibrant yellow as nutrients start filtering inside.

The inhabitants do not move, but he understood that somehow, they are being properly cared and fed, even if it didn't seem as traditional as simply hunting and providing the meals for them.

And with feeding time underway, Predaking notices that many of the tanks do not have… names. Instead, there are numbers. It’s not entirely surprising when even Predaking had nothing, and sought to find him his own name. “Do they carry any designation? Like this one?” He gestures to a Predacon pup who is a mixture of yellow, teal, and purple, with two draconic helms and tails to match.

“#SW81617 is quite sufficient for the level of organization I require to properly assess Project Predacon. I do not plan on developing such a … familial connection with my experiments, that which I am starting to notice that you are starting to seek out. You yearn for something more than what I choose to provide.”

It renders the large Predacon quiet. Before anything more could be spoken between the two, the science officer gets a ping in his system. His red optic dims as he reads the short notification, Soundwave calling for his presence onboard the Nemesis warship. “It appears I have a meeting that I must tend to. I will reconvene with you later, but for now, you are granted a privilege of staying. Only, do not touch any of the mechanics until I arrive back onto the site.”

Shockwave could logically assume what this particular meeting could consist of. He wasn’t the only one who noticed how… fearful Megatron almost seemed, a mixture of that and shock, is not an acceptable state that their leader would approve being rendered to. Megatron has already shown his bouts of irrational, impulsive, and paranoid tendencies when confronted with something much grander than him… and the dangerous, chaotic beauty of Predacons is grand indeed.

Shockwave did not exhibit any signs of nervousness. His EM field of wall of cold indifference as usual. And Predaking didn’t question the sudden call away from the lab. Perhaps he should have at the time. Maybe it could have prevented… well, everything, but the Predacon who had only recently gained sentience did not yet know how to become a bit more astute in his observations.

Instead, he allows the officer to call for a ground bridge and thinks nothing of it. The large beast curls up next to the tanks, with a soft rumble sounding close to a yawn exiting his maw as he hunkers down for the evening.

He’s not that attached... he was simply curious at the prospect of new life, of not being alone anymore, of reviving his species once more. Everything… that was now his duty to protect and see through.

His moments spent in the lab were coming to an end though, and soon he’d be unable to look upon the tanks of Predacon pups as if he were stargazing at the brightest of constellations with such… completion in his spark. He would never have thought that displaying sentient thought and behavior would write their end, that despite any signs of loyalty towards the Decepticon cause, that Megatron was never going to allow them to simply exist.

It happened then, and it will once again.

Predacons cannot just exist…

A Cybertronian will not allow that to be the case, Decepticon or Autobot otherwise.

[firewolf-pyro]

10. BETRAYAL

Henry rested unyielded by the medical technology he had been strapped into beforehand. On his lap covered in a soft strangely starchy feeling blue blanket rested a pale Dalek mutant. On a stool beside the bed sits Rose who is turned towards a small tv that has been brought in and set on a cart of sorts. Both of them seem to be watching the mutant on Henry’s lap while the creature's eye is turned to watch the screen. On the screen is a children’s show similar to blue’s clues which has absolutely grabbed the attention of the strange alien.

“It has barely moved.” Rose observes as she looks to the screen that the mutant was staring into. The screen had some kind of stop motion kids show playing. It seems to be interactive of sorts as the character looks out of the screen at them. Each pause the character performed as if waiting for a child to answer only seemed to draw the creature's attention back to the show if the eye looked away to some other part of the room.

“You should feel his mind right now, completely blank. Usually it’s nothing but stress and rage and hate but- just… Zoned out… Nothing but static.” Henry linsists as he rests a hand on the head mass of the creature. He glances down then back up at the screen. The silence was actually very comforting. It let his own mind wander, let it process what was going on around him without the constant screaming coming from the other’s mind. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Is he always in your head? Can you always feel what this thing is feeling?” She leans over to look at Henry who had started to fall into the same trance-like state the more he looked at the tv. He was still so exhausted from the crash. He didn’t deal with trauma as well as someone like Olesia did.

“Agh? Wh? Oh, kind of? I can’t always hear what he is thinking- he can block my thoughts … But I can’t block his- if he wants me to know something or he wants to know something in mine- he can just… Dig for it… The feeling is- not painful but- it’s like someone yanks the steering wheel away from you.” He explains softly as he pets the form of the Dalek mutant resting on his lap.

“Oh…” Rose stares down worriedly at the mutant resting there.

Days passed by in a slow creeping way. The storm that had been predicted had hit the facility hard, burying the doors in feet of snow. Far below the snow in an open laboratory sat a damaged blue casing which rests beside the island counter. Olesia is standing by the counter laying down battery packs as she watches Blueton move from shelf to shelf. He was searching for something to repair the wiring within the casing with.

“So… Why does your empire hate you so much?” Olesia asks as she begins to hook the power cells up into the now opened casing. They were going to kick start the core to see if that helped the nanotechnology begin healing the damaged metal.

“You already know the reason, they believe me to be insane.” Blueton insists as he clambers back down from one of the counters holding a small container of some sort of silver powder.

“I know the gist of that but, you haven’t gone into detail on what exactly provoked you into doing what you did…” She murmurs as she sits back to observe her work. The energy source at the base of the casing barely let off a glow. Every ounce of energy being pumped into it was being synced somewhere else.

“Why? Why I went against them?” They clamber into the casing and open the jar of silver powder. He began pouring it into the basin of the energy source. The core quivered and let out a burp of the silver powder in a soft poof.

“Please…” She squats down to observe the other as they work. She wanted to know more about this Dalek. Maybe she could figure out how to help them if they explained more about their past.

“Everything was fine- fek what I recall… From- very early on. Just- fine… Monotonous - repetitive. Science projects, studies on war to better eradicate the Thal- … Hmmm.” He closes the energy source. The basin begins to admit a very strong blue glow. Refueling it had been successful it seemed.

“The Prime and… The old emperor. Both are still so foggy in my recollection- I held no ill will towards them, towards my others… Until the debate began- on what status we held over the Kaleds around us- what we felt was correct to do with the species that made us… The man that made us.” He moves up and begins removing burnt out slides from the neck section of the casing. The fuses desperately needed replacing. He let the ones far beyond saving fall to the floor below them.

“So it was both a moral debate and the start of a political debate?” She asks as she pulls the burnt out sections over to herself and sets them on the counter beside her. The scrap metal could be salvaged and used later.

“Yes? No? I… Do not recall. I will stand by my beliefs however, Daleks are their own rulers. We will not bend to any who wish us to - not even the one who created us. They are not a god, we are not his pawns.” Blueton turns to face Olesia, his tendrils keeping him centered in the casing. She could see their outline through the neck slats.

“Some did not agree… That was my first taste of a political break. It was… Also my first taste of Dalek on Dalek warfare.” He gestures towards the power banks on the counter.

“Flick the first switch, the central power needs to charge before the rest can absorb the flow into the nanotechnology.” He states idly. Now with the basin refilled the charge should properly flow into it rather than wherever it was currently draining into.

“Wait- so you went through a revolution? Daleks had a revolution? Huh… Somehow that does not make sense to me.” She turns and flicks one of the switches on the power bank. A soft hum fills the room as the glow in the power source begins to glow brighter.

“Correct… It was not… It still is not. Sure we can keep a close watch on genetics and mark who is more superior than who based on them but…. We were also focused on motivations and alliances…. It was- unbelievably confusing. It brought up some questions that no one has answered to this point. Past that, those questions only burned brighter the further off-world we got.” He turns towards the central slots in the neck section then began poking at the slots. He was feeling for any breaks in the central spiral of wired the slots sat around.

“Power levels are remaining stable.” Blueton hummed as he read over the internal code of the travel machine.

“Sorry… I don’t get it.” Olesia admitted referring to Blueton’s previous story.

“Neither do I. Something happened during one of those planetary battles that really messed with me- I.. Do not know what but - none of the other Daleks seemed to take notice. The repetitivity of the hive mind was agony. The drive to explore further out of our solar system was the only thing keeping me sane… I wanted to know more, more about the stars and the life surrounding them…” Remembering the attack on the Dalek’s whole internet like system that had broken him from his repetitive mentality really made him think. He stares down at the ground for a moment before continuing.

“More about how they battled, how their war worked- how their civilizations worked around their wars…” He believed that was the point where his science focused kind switched to one more interested in strategy.

“So that was what started it then? Something you experienced in one of the wars on your homeworld?” She stood up on her knees to look over the power levels on the power cells. The tiny lights along the neck section’s structure were starting to light up one by one.

“Yes?” In all honesty he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was like this. He just was.

“Blueton… How old are you, exactly?” She had known he was old but now she was beginning to suspect he was ancient. She sits back down and leans in on her knees to stare into the eye of the Dalek mutant itself.

“I… Anyways- the Mechanoids really proved to push whatever was … My creativity along with the creative opinions of the others were tested to their limits and expanded upon. I earned my title as strategist then and there.” He glares down at Olesia for a long minute feeling the triumph of tricking the learning machines all those years ago. He pauses then to ponder something here.

“Why am I telling you this?” He begins to pull back, their tendrils coiling as they clamber further up towards the dome of their casing. It frightened him how willingly he had just given up that information.

“Because you like me, you find comfort in me. But if you are as old as I think you are… Why aren’t you a pile of black mush?.” She questions as she reaches her hand up towards Blueton. She looks very confident in her abilities now to get the other to open up to her. If she could keep him talking she might be able to convince him down the line to bring them back home.

“Disgusting. I can personally thank the Mevolans for that.” He stares at the offered hand. Hesitantly he reaches a single tendril but barely lets it touch the tip of her fingers. The debate raging through his head then and there was sending his internal stomach into knots.

“I can not do this- you are not a Dalek - this is wrong-“ He pulls back completely, getting a soft frown from Olesia. With the silence the full pull back left in her mind she knew she had gone a bit too far. But it did confirm her suspicions here. It was infatuated with her for some reason.

“One step forward, two steps back.” She huffs and stands up. She dusts herself off and peers over the energy levels again. By this point it would take the tank ages to recharge and thus heal itself.

“It’s okay Blueton, I Won't push it any further than that.” She sighs and watches just over her shoulder as Blueton scrambles off of their casing back towards some of the cupboards. They pause briefly to look over the symbols on a fridge before continuing on.

Later that day, far above the lab in the wide open facility’s first room the snow pushes inwards on the windows. The area is mostly empty, only a few people are sitting with their tablets or laptops on sofas in the wide open space. Olesia and Henry walk slowly through the communal space with a freshly healed blue and silver casing strolling along behind them. Henry is back in blue jeans, a colorful t-shirt and a bright orange sweater with the facility’s logo on its sleeves pulled on over it. They all had needed a good wander around the place after days of rest and recuperation.

“So- this is definitely not the planet we were meant to land on - right?” Henry looks up at the ceiling watching the rafters creak and groan as the wind howls outside. Snow was building up all around the metal beams above them causing snow to block out the light from outside.

“I doubt it? Daleks really do not do well in the cold.” Olesia cackles before finding an open couch and claiming a spot for herself and Henry. She lounged with a fwumf letting out a satisfied sigh. They had been walking around the facility for a few hours now looking for something to do.

“To be honest, neither do humans- I’m lucky to still have all of my fingers and toes after being stranded out in the snow and ice like that. I was out there for hours.” He grumbles and sits down next to her. He looks up to the casing in front of him and cackles.

“Hah! No room for the drone here- move along move along!” Henry smirks to the eyestalk that turns to stare down at the both of them. They are silent before turning and continuing towards the windows.

“He’s still touchy about our conversation earlier… I think he came to some odd conclusions about himself.”

Olesia sighs and rubs her face as she watches the Dalek pause at the windows. She lets out a grumble as she watches the Doctor and Rose stroll towards the lone Dalek. Just what they needed- a confrontation in a public place. With how agitated their Dalek was currently she knew things would escalate far past yelling if she didn’t step in. All she wanted to do was relax.

“Aaaannndd now we’re going to have to go save him again from the clutches of the ruthless Oncoming Storm.” She makes to stand but Henry grabs her shoulder. He wanted to see how this went. If push comes to shove they could always intervene but he felt if they stepped in now the Doctor would come to the conclusion that they were indeed under full control of the Dalek. Plus- Henry just wanted to see how or if the Dalek could keep things from becoming violent. And again, he wanted some time alone with Olesia. With the Dalek distracted they could actually converse without the sense of someone watching them over their shoulders.

“Stop… He talked to you? Like, actually talked to you?” He holds onto her arm until she relaxes back into her seat.

“Yes, he did.” Olesia stretches her legs out in front of her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside Henry. She couldn’t look away from the Dalek who had not yet noticed they were being approached.

“Like, not just barking orders or accidental mental

flashes of memories or thoughts? Just- straight up talked to you?!” He looks in awe glancing from Olesia to the Dalek then back again. Through the year of living under the rule of that Dalek it not once had stopped to talk with him. It had always been nothing but orders or critique. He sits up a bit as he listens to her.

“Yes, he started to explain why he was doing what he was doing- or… Well, less of why and more of like- giving some backstory as to why he was like what he is like now? I don’t know- it was confusing. I think he is just as confused as we are.” She whispers and glances over her shoulder back towards the Dalek who is now against the window with the Doctor talking at him - keeping him from moving away. She grimaces at this scene really wishing she could step in right here and now.

“Man- then we really are puppets to an insanely broken entity.” He leans back with a huff, just watching the eyestalk of the Dalek turn from the Doctor to Rose then back again. If Blueton really was insane that meant they were in even more danger than they would have been in with a sane Dalek. It meant he was unpredictable- it meant they should expect him to be irrational and erratic.

“Yup… But- he is starting to open up, which- I suppose is a miracle for anyone to experience with any sort of Dalek.” She smiles then looks at Henry, poking his side a bit.

“Do you remember those little things in the bio-tanks? I think the planet we were meant to land on would have had something more to do with them.” She insists idly, ignoring the mess going on behind her. She assumed the planet they had meant to land on would likely have been some kind of Dalek paradise. Maybe a tropical world with hidden structures buried far below the surface or a warm dead radioactive world with towering city scapes set around old decrepit rubble. A perfect place to raise their young.

“The tiny squids…” He nods and keeps his eyes looking past Olesia to the situation unfolding over by the blue casing. He didn’t really have the capacity to care about the infants at the moment. He was still very worried for himself and his own safety.

“Yes, I saw the files the Doctor opened, I knew the planned trajectory of our craft… But I didn’t know the history of the planet. It was some kind of mining planet- an abandoned attempt of conquest from the old Daleks.” She turns to look over her shoulder one more time before looking back at Henry.

“Why would we want to go to an abandoned sector? Wouldn’t the Daleks of all creatures have abandoned it for good reason?” Henry begins to stand when he hears shouting coming from the direction of the Dalek. It sounds as if the Doctor is shouting about how manipulative the Daleks are and how dare he command two people like they were puppets. It was time to step in if they didn’t want laser fire loosed in a public space.

“Maybe that’s the point? Hide in plain sight or… Right under his empire's nose?” Olesia suggests and stretches as she stands. Both of them start walking towards the red in the face Doctor who was being pushed to the side by Rose. As they walked they could hear the last bit of the argument- Rose hushing the Doctor as she tried to play the mediator. They had started arguing over what was manipulative or if the Dalek was lying about its control over the two.

“So raise an army right there- but if they abandoned it, it has to be dangerous…” He picks up his pace to a careful jog along Olesia’s side. The yelling had turned to screaming in such a short period of time the both of them knew they didn’t have much time to stop this argument before it became violent.

“Better that than have them find him now- right?” She slows just as they get to the Doctor who is still shouting at the Dalek.

“You are a slave owner, how can you not see this?” The Doctor snarls pointing his finger at the Dalek. He is being pushed back via Rose who is trying to call him down. Neither had noticed Olesia or Henry run to their sides.

“Doctor stop, you’ve tried to explain to it the morals of what it’s done - it clearly doesn’t get it.” Rose says sternly as she pushes him away. Olesia walks to the left of her while Henry is at the right, with all three of them they pull the Doctor a few good feet away from the Dalek letting the Dalek move away from the window it had been trapped up against.

“Or it just refuses to believe it itself!” He shouts as he glares over Rose. He did not want to leave this situation. He wanted to kill this Dalek, to free the two it had kidnapped and prevent it from whatever the sick mutant was planning.

“It doesn’t matter, Doctor- we’re stuck with him until I find a way to prevent the nanotechnology coursing through our veins from messing with our brains.” Olesia says in a hushed and quick tone. Both Henry and Olesia release the Doctor and step around to Rose’s side to keep him walled off away from the Dalek. Olesia wasn’t lying about the nano-technology either. Even if they did manage to escape the vicinity of the Dalek the being would still be able to flip some sort of switch in them and force them back to his side.

“You aren’t helping by getting into a screaming match with him.” Henry sighs and glances over his shoulder to the casing. Blue was half turned away from the group making a slow escape along the wall towards the more open part of the community area.

“You’re only causing stress- stress will only make him violent.” Henry continues, gesturing behind him with his thumb. The limbs of the Dalek casing were all twitching about- especially the gunstick which twisted and turned in its socket as they moved away from this situation.

“Ex- ex-ex-“ Came a soft muttered phrase from the Dalek as it tried to reduce whatever internal stimulus it was experiencing. Emotions were high- and high emotions really fucked with the trigger systems in the gunstick.

“If you really want to help- just help us get off of this planet.” She whispers and walks over to the casing, resting a hand on the dome and stands in the line of sight of the eyestalk to break eye contact.

“So you’re just going to side with that monster?” The Doctor asked, flabbergasted by these two. How could they stay sided with the very creature that had ripped them away from their homes? He just couldn’t believe it.

“It’s safer than siding with you, Doctor.” Olesia sighs and looks over her shoulder to him. She believed if she ran to the Doctor’s side the Dalek would only retaliate- and retaliate in such a violent way it would endanger everyone around them. It was safer to keep quiet and calm here.

“Just… Be patient, okay? And tone your Dalek hate down- it’s already painful enough to witness. I don’t need you sending him into a full out war fury.” Henry turns to leave the Doctor where he is, the man still fuming as he paces from side to side as he stares the trio down.

Olesia and Henry stand beside the blue Dalek. They speak at a whisper, hands on the casing as they throw glances at the Doctor. The Doctor is at least a yard away at this point with Rose resting her hands on his shoulders to calm him down. She is trying to hold his attention on her. All three, Olesia, Henry and Rose felt like weird handlers for a war focused alien.

“I can’t just let them-“ The Doctor started but was quickly shut down by his companion.

“But you can, you and I both know if that tin cann wanted to hurt anyone it would have already. Just- hear it out already… If you don’t - I will.” Rose presses herself into the Doctor. With an all too serious stare up into the Doctor’s eyes she dares him to challenge her on this. When he blinks and looks away from her, her posture relaxes into him. She really did have to act like a handler on the other side of a leash with him sometimes.

“If they are insane to other Daleks, then maybe that is a good thing for us. Maybe because they are, they will be…” She was trying to reason with the man. If they weren’t right in the head for a Dalek- then maybe that meant they were right in the head for humans.

“What? Nicer? No. This is just another manipulation tactic- it is up to something. It has to be plotting something big-… We need to get back to that ship- to destroy that infant army growing there.” The Doctor turns to stare towards the exit. With a grumble he shuffles past Rose leaving her in a huff standing there in the room alone. He just could not risk this going any further than it already had. There were no such things as good friendly Daleks.

Rose watches the Doctor rush to one of the entryways as he tries to find a way out. However the doors are stuck shut by the weight of the snow and ice that had accumulated against them during the still frigid storm. Rose wraps her arms around herself then hesitantly walks towards the trio. Olesia has her arm wrapped around the neck and shoulder section of the casing while Henry has one hand resting on the Blue one’s dome. Both are using the casing to lean against as they talk quietly to one another.

“So… You three need help getting off of this planet?”

[skillbard]

Drone

Noun: A Deep Sustained Or Monotonous Sound

The following is an excerpt from Drone director Sean Buckelew's much longer in-depth behind-the-scenes article found here.

Drone is concerned with some pretty lofty concepts and we wanted to be sure we fully understood the director Sean Buckelew’s point of view before we dove in, so we requested a reading list and pounded through some relevant literature in front of a log fire on our Christmas break. We found Frankenstein to be the most fruitful reference, paralleling so many of the key ideas in Sean’s script in an equally lyrical way.

To kick us off, Sean sent us a WIP along with some spotting notes. In true Buckelew fashion, they were fun & casually worded but extremely well thought-out.

His first note: “Overall, I think the sound/music oscillates between two modes: one is kind of bureaucratic and banal, the other is dreamy, impressionistic and poetic” presented to us the idea of a duality at the heart of the story. So, borrowing a technique from David Sonnenschein’s book Sound Design: The Expressive Power of Music, Voice, and Sound Effects in Cinema, we plotted a table of two columns with relevant motifs aligned with the two main ‘modes’ that Sean discusses. We thought the film a little too nuanced to label “good vs evil” or “man vs machine” so we decided upon the much broader terms “Inside” & “Outside” to name the two forces.

Our “Bipolar Evaluation” of Drone:

We then mapped out the timeline of the film with colour-coded slugs that tracked the two main polarities to help us plot the emotional beats of the story arc, forming a solid guide for us to follow while we worked.

A couple of weeks later, we presented our first sketch to Sean: We went big from the outset, unabashedly invoking signifiers from the sub-genre of ‘hollywood flying music’, Namely: a soaring melody, vivid chordal gestures, and rich, lush strings over a floaty waltz feel. This OTT feeling seemed to elevate Newton’s monologue into the realm of fantasy, contrasting with the cold cynicism of the office scenes.

In a previous collaboration with Sean, Lovestreams, we relished the opportunity to create an  Enya-inspired, floating & ethereal ‘semi-New Agey’ score that could perform on a dual level: Being playfully ironic while legitimately tugging at heartstrings. We approached Drone with a similar sensibility.

Sean’s response was very enthusiastic: “you guys are fucking brilliant, skillbard strikes AGAIN!!!!”. Smashed it first time!

But really all credit goes to Sean for making it easy to get right. When a filmmaker  understands their message, thinks things through as thoroughly as Sean does, and takes the time to communicate so effectively with collaborators, it starts to feel like all we need to do is go away and start pressing the buttons. He had notes, of course, but nothing major, so we pressed on, fleshing out our demo and writing cues for the rest of the film, sending regular WIPs to Sean for his thoughts. We also started work on the sound elements, focusing mostly on the bombing scene to establish overall dynamics of the film, since that’s the loudest/most intense bit.

Now we had established the musical DNA for Newton’s journey and we set about extrapolating, variating and developing outwards to set up the other cues.

EG During Newton’s death cue we rendered a sombre, minor-key variation from the core motif.

As usual, music was the most noticeable emotional & atmospheric signifier but every sound you hear was considered in terms of how it contributed to the story emotively, narratively & even conceptually. Perhaps the most obvious example is processing of the dialogue EG: a feeling of alienation was often achieved through tactical intelligibility of dialogue. It’s not always clear what Newton is trying to tell us while he’s delivering his manifesto because, ultimately, it was never heard or understood outside of creating a spectacle.

Similarly, a lot of the dialogue in Drone is heard through speakers, we’re not sure if this is something we discussed with Sean but our perception was that this was an expression of technology’s power to create distance between people. It seemed important that this is something that is felt by the audience. We did a lot of ‘reamping’ by hacking gritty, small speakers to make this talker—>listener detachment palpable.

Once all the music was written and demoed and approved by all parties, we sent our sample-based mockups to our talented orchestrator Finn McNicholas (Midsommer, Daniel Isn’t Real, Swansong) and briefed him on how we’d like them to end up when played by the orchestra. Finn listened carefully to what we’d programmed in MIDI, transcribing it to page to achieve everything we were expressing in a way a room full of 30 people can understand and play without complication.

See the full scores for this cue here.

To invoke Newton’s destructive intentions, Finn helped us pin down and notate a number of ‘extended techniques’ for our orchestra to try; often ‘unmusical’ playing styles that push the instruments outside of its regular usage into more savage tones.

This musical thread begins during the night time cue ‘Alienation.’ Newton’s monologue describes an “interwoven fabric” while we see a spaghetti junction. We wrote a long sustained drone featuring an airy random textural movement from the string players, giving a musical sense of threads rubbing together.

Later in that cue when Newton describes the destruction he is about to bring forth while we see a field in flames, we wrote two powerfully opposing chords with a tense and nervous tremolo, going between ‘sul tasto’ (string player playing close to the neck) and ‘sul pont’(string player playing close to the bridge) to express his destructiveness and contradictory nature.

In the death scene after he crashes we hear a scratchy gnarly string articulation, Newton’s full destructiveness wrought…

When we had worked through exactly what we wanted with the orchestration, we attended and directed the session with the Budapest Art Orchestra (Queen’s Gambit, Locke & Key, Godless).

A portrait of two composers and orchestrator on the day of recording

Covid prevented us from attending the session personally—which was a shame because a pint of beer in Budapest is like £2!

Unfortunately their live room camera fell over immediately upon starting our session so this is the best angle we have.

Hear each cue in isolation here:

[haila-wetyios]

Acceptance

Part 1/?? of A visit to the end of the world.

Broken innards of a machine. The logo of Garlond Ironworks. And the downed drones spread all around. 

Haila is all too familiar with this. But to be thrown at it with no warning still stung. 

It felt as if she’d been dragged right out of mourning for a lost child, to suddenly having a newborn left behind by said child shoved into her doorstep. Or at least, that’s exactly how she felt with the new A.I.s that Florus had left behind, creating an even bigger mess. 

The motherly Viera could only sigh in defeat as she carefully stepped around the mess of what was left of the Overseer. She knelt down as she picked up one of the torn apart terminals and carefully brushed a faint sheet of ice that had formed around it. 

“Hello.” she started, her tone calm and soothing. 

“I’m Haila.” she went silent at this. Where to even start? She hadn’t witnessed everything that had taken place here, but that didn’t meant she could turn a blind eye after rushing all the way out here. 

Perhaps her expression said it all? A hazed trouble that had yet to touch her to the core, but that still remained as the main source of turmoil in her heart. That Florus was in danger. Again. That he’d gotten himself into trouble. Again. And one that she’d warned him about. Again.

Again. Again. Again. Had he learned his damn lesson? This was not what she’d staked everything for him to do. And just from her daughter’s brief recounts, it didn’t seem like his only goal had been protecting what he loved either.

But she’d also been the one to encourage his actions. And this, she was responsible for in one way or the other. 

“You must be hurting quite a lot…” she continued as she cradled the broken remains with gentleness, as if they’d break apart more than they already were.  

As Haila gently cooed at the broken pieces as if she was comforting a child that had just gotten hurt beyond recovery, she straightened up as she embraced one of the terminals that was still half beeping. Probably stuck in monotone functions. 

“I’m sorry…” she then whispered to the broken machine. 

“I can’t hear your thoughts, or feel what you must have felt. I’m overstepping, but I’ll help repair you. ‘Tis the least I can do for you and what you’ve done.”

Yes. Possibilities remained. She could imagine Rhua’s thought processes just from what little she’d heard of the Overseer. But to Haila, she knew she had to come to terms with one particular thing. 

This is not Florus. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. 

“In exchange, would you listen to an old grandma’s rambles?...”

[belovecore]

Villain F/O Writing Prompts - Kraken🦑

🤗 Write about the time you and your villain F/O first admitted your care for one another.

Original Ask

(Okay so some little details to mention: I wanted to write this specifically more in an AU setting? i mean, i do not have the exact idea of how Kraken and Zero met but this came into my head so I thought it would be nice to write for this! It's sort of an old AU I used to do but you'll see what i mean-)

It had been only so long since Kraken was assigned an organic in this new program. A sort of odd one to explain in such short time but at the core of it, decepticons were given a second chance and given an organic to pair up with and learn from, all calculated on what personlities would go good together. It wasn't a flawless operation but it had results and safety nets in place.

Kraken's organic was a young adult named Zero, and all flesh built entities on Earth were different. Zero was built of shadow and overall just a humanoid shape with a normal life per others around them. They lived in a relocated area to suit needs both for a Cybertronian and a humanoid, and Zero didn't mind too much. They didn't really have any attachments to hang onto and lived alone as they usually preferred. It was a change but they could manage, they assured the overseeing Prime of that when selecting Kraken and Kraken selecting them in return.

-

Time together had been spacing together nicely, Kraken and Zero didn't talk too much but they were aware of each other's existences, keep their spaces tidy and did best not to be disruptive. A few talks here and there but not much formed.

Zero wasn't too up in arms about forming a connection, but it would be nice. Kraken on the other hand had a yearning deep in his spark. It didn't seem to matter for what but he need socialization and he was absolutely fine with Zero. He just didn't know how to approach or not be awkward. An overthinker and will not to mess this up, as that would be rough to smooth out.

Kraken did at some point consider asking about some activites they could do together, and Zero seemed quite chipper at the notion. Kraken using his calm monotone to give off the vibe he was as he appeared and he felt joyous that he finally got to do more than work.

The two started watching shows together, and Zero did all they can to inform Kraken about Earth life- and in return, Zero got to know about Kraken's life on Cybertron and the Nemesis. This interest buzzed both their motivation and soon they were chattering a lot.

It was a fine connection, but nothing more than talks about what they loved. A lot would be fine with that and leave it as be. Relationships weren't always the same from one another and some just didn't go that far. It was normal, but something would happen that forced Kraken to confess and revel in his emotion in how he felt about Zero.

It wasn't always other giant robots but also just human villains causing trouble around town that could echo across the tristate and disrupt life.

Zero wasn't one to sit things out, they liked to stay home but if something big was happening, they wanted to go see. Now, they didn't plan to just charge headfirst and be in harm's way but they wanted to see what was going on and causing commotion. If big mechs were involved? Sign Zero and the rest of the world up!

Zero hastily was throwing on a hoodie and grabbing their backpack, full focus on what they wanted to do. Kraken watching the television as it clear as day was a report on a decepticon attack in town square.

Kraken's audials forward as he listened quietly, not doing much but his antennas did all the motions as he thought. His servo to his chin, but then he heard the jingle of a keychain and that set his audials staight up with a bright optic as he stood.

A smooth motion to stand in front of the garage exit, the big part where Kraken resided with stuff built for his size as he crouched. He did this so Zero could hear better, knowing they had auditory processing disorder and as usual paced his words so he didn't have to repeat unless needing clarification.

"A night out on town tonight, Zero? You sure it's not too cold?"

Zero got cold easily and Kraken knew this but they both knew, that's not what this was about. Zero huffing, petting a clawed hand through their fluffy mane and pouting up at him.

"I'll be fine, Kray. I'm just um, going, firefly… catching?"

They gave a guilty smile as Kraken sighed, audials wiggling as he moved down on his knees, servos resting on the ground to watch the small organism. His voice softer and optic half-dimmed to show he wasn't trying to be demanding or scary.

"Zero, we both know this area doesn't inhabit lightning bugs. You told me that yourself."

Zero sweating and looking away nervously, running through hand through their fluff again.

"Heh, oh yeah…"

Kraken sighing again, just looking a tad defeated. He knew Zero was a determined little shadowkin.

"If this about going to see what's going on in town square. I highly suggest against it, Zero. It's unsafe."

Zero shrugged, matching his energy but wanting to plead as they looked up at him, hands over the heart on their shirt.

"Aw, come on, Kraken. I won't get that close. I can keep myself safe. Heck, I've been in a scuffle before!"

They shined a smile with a flex of their arms, animated around the big mech since they were on terms of equal ground. Zero just wanted to go, they didn't like being told what to do even if it was good for them. Zero knew the dangers of approaching something that could be hazardous but they weren't reckless. Zero honestly saw this gesture more as small mutual concern, but that's not what Kraken meant it as, and his intent could be construed quite a lot.

Then he said something he probably shouldn't have, being more firm.

"No, Zero. I still advise against it."

He tapped the edge of his straightened servo on the ground to gesture his point.

"You shouldn't be anywhere near the battle. You're too important."

Now, this could be taken as overprotective and it was; and Kraken made it clear as 'advice' but Zero knew in their mind that if they went, it would disippoint Kraken. So what was a shadowkin to do? They couldn't win, and being the more emotional of the two. They took offense.

A scoff as they kicked at the ground, crossing their arms.

"I am not."

Kraken's audials laying back.

"You are."

He wanted to say more but it was holding it back and Kraken's resistance to Zero's will only made them more angry as the edges of their mane flared, crossing their arms tighter and grinding their teeth slightly as they tapped their foot angrily. They stimmed a lot with intense emotion.

"No. I'm not."

Their eye shut before blinking and looking up at him, a very judgemental look.

"I'm not some trophy on a pedestal who should be put behind glass and reminded how to be. Do you think I'm weak because I'm small?"

Kraken's optic glowered a bit, realizing he made a mistake but it was best to stay calm to resolve this as he held up his servo.

"No, Zero. That is not what I mean, I meant-"

Zero cut him off, getting worked up and the calm tone made them more aggressive. Zero wouldn't insult or throw things, but they would visually and verbally show how they felt through expression of thought.

"No. I think you do, Kraken! You get to go on so many cool missions and be with the other cybertronians and I just get to sit home and be boring cause I'm suddenly 'too important'!"

Kraken stood, trying to compose himself but he did not care for being labeled or told what his words meant.

"Zero, please understand."

His servos shaking as his engines revved, his temper building but Zero was far too distracted in their own tizzy to notice as they barked up at him.

"NO!"

That was it and Kraken shook as his optic blinked and then it came out with an eruption of glitching on his voicebox as his mask opened and he held out his servos, optic glazed as he boomed to match their energy.

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU?"

. . .

Silence. Zero had stepped back, eye wide and staring in disbelief as Kraken blinked and gasped before lowering his audials and looking away.

"I-I mean, you should… I am…"

He closed his optic and his energon levels slowed back down as he shook his helm and removed himself from the doorway, sitting down on the couch with a rumble from his sheer size as he leaned over his knees.

Zero was surprised, not scared. They knew Kraken would never hurt them. But that instance? That meant something more, something more to Kraken. They knew that.

Their freeze finished and they glanced at the door controls before sighing and dropping their pack to shuffle over and climb up the huge seat to sit next to Kraken. A bit spaced to give him room but holding their hands in their lap quietly as the tv played in the background, muffled from mere thoughts going through both their minds.

. . .

Finally, after a few moments, Zero spoke in knowing what they wanted to say.

"… Have you been holding that in for a while, Kraken?"

They looked at him.

"I'm completely serious. Please, tell me how you feel. You've never shown much emotion to me before besides joy. I didn't even… consider your feelings. I'm so sorry."

Kraken shook his helm and looked at them, tilt of his helm as a slow drip of a coolant tear pooled on his screen and past his sharp maw.

"No. It's quite alright, Zero. I didn't, exactly get my point across in how I wanted."

Zero looked upon him with pity, with concern. They wanted him to go on as he looked away to fish his thoughts and bring them to light.

"I care so much about you, Zero. The past months have been so much fun. I haven't had a friend as close as you in a millenia. It makes me feel alive again, and I nevre want to lose that."

Zero scoot a bit closer, still listening as he went on, his servo cupping against their back softly as he glanced back at them.

"I was far too scared to tell you that in case it frightened you, and look what I've done. I scared you by having an outburst."

A shake of their head as they patted his servo, leaned against it and how suprisingly warm it was.

"I wasn't scared, Kraken. I was surprised, confused, maybe shocked, but not scared, I just didn't expect it. I understand why you did what you did and why you felt you had to."

Kraken's audials laid back submissively, nodding to himself and glossa flicking past the small stream of coolant as he looked away, a bit of disgust at his own appearance from a hubcap in the corner. But that was a tale for another day as he continued.

"I'm glad, but I would never want to react or act in a way that would be innapproriate. I should've done the correct thing and told you how I felt before letting it build up inside of me."

Zero gave a soft nod, patting his servo with a gentle smile up at him.

"We all make mistakes, Kraken. We'll get through this and-"

They closed their eyes, a still big grin stretched on their face.

"We'll work on intimacy and how close you want to be. Together."

A soft chuckle as his mask drew back and he softly patted them, petting their hair very carefully.

"Thank you, Zero. You really are starting to sound like me now, imagine if I did take my usual logical route on this whole ordeal."

An echo back to him with a stuck out tongue.

"I love you, Special K. Imagine if I took my usual emotional route?"

The two spent the night together and everything was at ease once more, and finally they could work together on how they wished for their friendship to be in the end.

[animeyanderelover]

Please request only one person if you want a prompt. I know that I wrote in the past for more than one character but I can write with more ease when it comes to fluid writing when I can focus on only one character. I don't know why that is though, I guess otherwise I feel too drained afterwards.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, manipulation, clinginess, gaslighting, abduction

Prompt 28: “I need you more than I need air to breathe.”

You wanted to cease to exist or die right in that moment, tears silently dripping down your cheeks despite your best attempts to bite them back. The abhorred and terrifying closeness between you and him had you wishing to be swallowed by Mother Earth and feeling his cold hands and his sharp nails on your neck, arms and back had your insides recoil with disgust and horror.

It was sheer fear that kept you seated obediently on his lap, hands folded awkwardly and eyes glued on them. His touch was unbearable enough, his gaze would only give you the rest. You despised those plum red eyes, all high and mighty, judging you and examining you.

You loathed those eyes because you couldn’t recognize any emotion that could have made the monster he was in front of you even the slightest bit more human. Muzan was cold-blooded, narcissistic and menacing and the pure gleam of obsession and possessiveness whenever you locked eyes with him was enough to make you feel nauseous.

Even this rather lovely gesture right now was eerie and frightening you to your bones. It was toxic because of the fondness he was currently expressing, keeping you placed on his lap, caressing your body and even going through the troubles of wiping away your tears every now and then.

You could even hear him taking calm and deep breaths to savor your scent and could feel the exhaled air tickling your skin, a contrast to your own suppressed sniffles and sobs.

You didn’t dare to relax and lower your guard, not when this man was Kibutsuji Muzan. You never had felt more out of place either. Thrown into a world full of demons with the king of them keeping you in here for himself, for reasons unknown to you still.

In moments of coldness he was implanting fear into your heart, snarling at you in his monotone voice that you should be grateful that he even spared your life and took you in. In moments where he seemed to lower his guard and became more intimate and open with you, he claimed to love you, expressed a desire to protect you yet in his eyes you had only ever seen an infatuated obsession and the greed to own you.

You stifled when one of his thumbs slid right over the pulse on your neck, the fear to be pierced by his claws embedded in your soul.

“I’m not going to hurt you, darling. Right now you don’t have to be afraid.”

That nickname made you want to cringe away though you refrained yourself from doing so, fearing to anger him in the process. It was probably still better than being labeled as a “feeble human”.

"You fascinate me. Somehow I need you more than I need air to breathe."

The moment he forced you to meet his eyes, you felt sick to the core. You hated that look in his eyes that saw you more as a priced possession than a living being, something to own.

"I wonder what else you'll surprise me with."

[freckledbeom]

Hello my love. Can I pls have a kyun car sex fic. Can b like friends who have a thing for each other but neither of them know or established relationship

hi love, i wrote this fic while i was feeling a little blue so im sorry if it’s a little drawn out. hope this is what you wanted! ~

car sex w/ kyunnie [18+]

side note before you all read this fic, i just wanna say how grateful i am. sometimes i go on hiatuses or don’t update in a timely manner but i still get so much love & for that im truly grateful. it’s all love here, ill be here for you all like you’re here for me <33

warnings; 18+ content, suggestive scenes

listening to outta time by bryson tiller ♪

it wasn’t unlikely for changkyun to call you at late hours of the night, he was usually studio bound at this time anyway. what was unusual lie in his simple, but daring request.

“come downstairs.” he barred a monotone voice through the phone.

his puzzling request struck curiousity in your bones; you couldn’t not meet him downstairs now. grabbing nothing but a spare pullover and sliding into your house shoes, your heart fluttered in your chest. what could he possibly want?

after finally reaching your destination, changkyun turned around, your eyes meeting.

he almost looked the same as you, dressed in not much but a pair of sweats and a loose hoodie. although you would probably never tell him, his appearance was one of the many factors that drew you in.

stepping foward, changkyun cracked a slight smile. “you didnt take long.” he joked, tilting his head to the side a little.

“neither did you.” you replied, smiling back at him. “are you here to just look at me or did you have something you wanted?”

he paused a little before responding, licking his bottom lip. that was enough to fuel the fire between your legs.

“what if i wanted to just look at you?” his breath hitched a little.

your heart was beating so fast you were sure changkyun could hear your excitement ready to leap out of your chest. you were even more sure of this since the dialogue between the two of you had ceased.

“kidding.” changkyun hit your arm a little, as if he was knocking you back to reality. “i do miss you though, you wanna go for a drive?”

right. he didn’t see you in that way. of course, this was expected since he had many other things in his life; you would be the last on his mind.

the walk to the parking garage was a brisk, but quiet one. your interactions weren’t usually this awkward, today was an especially off one. from kyun suddenly showing up at your apartment, to this odd tension that appeared, you could hear the silence.

opening the door for you, changkyun walked around to his side and got in.

“your car smells nice.” a pathetic attempt to crack the silence.

“it smells like me.” changkyun answered affirmatively, looking directly at you.

rolling your eyes, you gave your attention to the moon in front of you.

you could feel his eyes drawing in on you, lasered into the side of your skull. turning so you made eye contact, you tilted your head a little.

"staring contest?"

changkyun scoffed jokingly. "i'll win but sure."

you didn’t know what was stranger about this night; the way he looked at you or the way his looks kindled the fire between your legs.

"why do you keep looking at me like that?" you choked out, palms growing sweaty in the process.

"it's a staring contest." changkyun retorted.

"no i mean-"

his lips didn't allow you to give further explanation, his tongue lay bait for you to fall under. your breaths hitched and stilled. his hands wandered every which way until one landed on your chin, tilting it upwards.

if this was bliss then the second he pulled away was sudden death, leaving you puckered & red.

leaning back in with your noses just touching, changkyun bit his bottom lip. "i can kiss you like that right? is that ok?"

this time you opted out of verbal response, answering him the same way he did you.

changkyun's hands moved from your face to your bottom, pulling you over on the driver's side so you could sit on his lap. instinctively, you reached to the side and lowered the seat back.

his hands wandered underneath your sweater to fondle your breasts. the friction from your lower bodies and the way he touched you was enough make you bellow out a shallow moan. you could feel him growing beneath you, leaving you soaked.

bringing you down towards him, changkyun lifted away your top to give him full access to your nipples. unknowingly, your hips ground against his crotch.

changkyun let out a breathy moan, latching harder onto your breast.

“changkyun...i want you so bad...” you whined out, his brows raising at your request. tilting his head with his mouth now removed from your chest, changkyun bit his bottom lip.

“say it again for me.” his breath hitching a little.

with no hesitation, the words stuttered out of you. “i want you so bad.”

a part of you imagined that he got a kick out of hearing your desperation crawl out of itself. so much so that every reedy whine from you earned a bite at your neck or a grope to your backside.

this time you had earned the feel of his manhood, not a cushion but a slab of pure concrete, stiff under you.

playing with the hem of your shorts, changkyun met with your eyes for direct contact. “we don’t have to take these off.”

and you didn’t, with him pushing them to the side just enough to give access to your bare middle. finally, you could catch a glance of his lower. it sat up high, thick & gleaming with precum; it was as if it was waiting for you.

steadily, you sunk down onto changkyun, biting your lip carefully to not cry out. changkyun pulled your upper back forward so that you were chest to chest, keeping another on your bottom. slowly, you rocked your lower half on his throbbing member. the two of you kept eye contact, while his hand that was once on your upper back was now on your face.

out of the many faces changkyun had showed you, the one he was giving me at this particular moment had you ready to climax then and there. cheeks flushed, changkyun bit down on his lower lip, never breaking away from you.

a harsh slap to your ass made you whine even louder. “right there....it feels so good right there...”

speeding up your pace, you sat up a little so that both hands could sit flat against his chest. with one hand on his shoulder and the other on this chiseled chest, you bounced on his lap, sounds from your sopping middle filling the air.

changkyun reached a hand up to steady your thigh, with his mouth now agape. “fuck, did i get you this wet? huh?”

in a shallow attempt to conceal your moans you bit your lip, only for changkyun to catch on rather quickly.

his palms took grip of your ass, giving him full access to thrust himself into you. you only cried out, falling back onto his chest while he took you from under

times like this there was nowhere else your mind wandered except how he made you feel.

“mmm…changkyun…” every time you began a sentence it seemed as if you blacked out.

joining his rhythm, you brought your your hips back down onto him. it only took a few more strokes to have you, once again, calling out to him.

“i think im gonna come.” your grip on his shoulders tightened so that you could straighten up and look at him.

“yeah?” he answered, his eyes saturated with eagerness.

“mhmm.”

changkyun gave a harsh slap to your rear while biting his lip.

“go ahead…fuck…go ahead and come on me.”

you surrendered, riding him until your legs and core gave out. trembling, you stilled your movements only when you heard changkyun announce his orgasm.

panting, you look at the mess you made of him. although the garage was dimly lit, you still could share gaze with him.

“is this what you called me out here for?” you questioned.

he chuckled, licking his bottom lip. “does this count as a confession.”

“not at all.”

[droolingoverfanfics]

Wedding Night

> Alice in Borderland <

Requested by: @praiapersephone

Hi! Can I request an imagine where Chishiya and the female reader is on their first wedding night. Like it will be their first time to do it as a couple coz we know that Chishiya lacks sex drive (I mean you know he rarely show emotions so yeah he must be uninterested being intimate) and the reader is too shy to initiate something on Chishiya. Thank youuuu!

A/N: Sure thing! Sorry it took me so long. I got carried away with their foreplay..so yeah. It is longer than expected. I do hope you enjoy it, though!

Pairing: Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Wordcount: ~2.1k

Warnings: Oral Sex, Dom/Sub, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Fucking, Swearing, Bad Language, Foreplay

It is late at night when you and your newly wed husband enter your shared flat. You step out of your medium high heeled shoes and sigh with relieve, what a pain it was to wear them during the ceremony, but they suit your wedding dress perfectly. You turn to your husband, but he is already in the bedroom, getting rid of his suit and tie, stripping down so that only his boxers are left and sits down on the bed. You blush at this sight, it is not like you have not seen him like this before, but this is the first time seeing him like this as his wife.

Unsure of what to do next, you slowly move into the bedroom too, around to your bed and bend down to the small lamp on your night stand, to bring some light into the dark room. As soon as the bulb lights up, you can see Chishiya staring at you. “Is something wrong?”, he asks with the same tone he always uses, it sounds so calculating and monotone. It makes you even wonder why he lays there in his boxers only, he must be up to something.

“Could you..help me get out of this dress and corset that is underneath? It is hard to untangle alone”, you ask timidly, while not looking at him directly and biting your lip. I could easily do it alone, but I want him to touch me, you think to yourself, in hopes he does not realize that the dress is that easy to open. “Turn around”, he orders you and you quickly obey, letting out a breathe you didn't realize you held in. You get comfortable on the edge of the bed and wait, until he starts working on your dress. You can feel his fingers grazing your soft skin occasionally, which sends shivers down your spine and you try your best to suppress sighing with how good the close contact feels.

You feel the dress and corset loosen more and more, until they hang loosely around your frame, exposing more of your delicate skin. “Th-thank you..”, you mumble and get up, pressing the fabric against you, making your way over to your bathroom, but you stop as soon as you hear his voice. “What are you doing?”, he wants to know, but simultaneously sounds not much interested in your actions.  You turn around and stare at the ground. “I..uh wanted to get changed..into something more..uh comfortable”, you explain while stuttering. “In the bathroom?”, Chishiya continues to question you. You nod, “Yeah, I always changed there.”

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed and looks at you, a smirk plastering his face. “I want you to change in front of me, no, to strip in front of me. I want to see this new lace underwear you bought for our wedding night”, he requests.

You just stand there, staring at him in shock. You didn't even tell him you bought new underwear, you kept it a secret, hiding them underneath everything else and immediately throwing away the receipt after buying them. But now is the moment you were waiting for. Your wedding night. Your first time with Chishiya. You take a deep breath and let go of your dress, letting it slide down to the ground, followed by your corset. You carefully step out of it and make your way over to where your husband sits, now only dressed in your white lace underwear.

Chishiya just looks you up and down, without saying a word. After a while you get nervous and start playing with your fingers, not daring to look at him any further. When he finally breaks the silence, he pulls you down to him and whispers in your ear, “You look good, kitten.”

You find yourself sitting on his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him and giving yourself fully into him. His words alone send shivers down your spine right to your most sensitive part between your legs, you feel yourself starting to get wet within seconds. Chishiya places soft kisses on your neck, biting and sucking on it occasionally, leaving his mark, until he hits that soft spot which earns him a moan from you.

You can feel his erection grow beneath you and instinctively start to grind your hips against him, making him grunt. You can feel how he grabs your ass and moves the both of you from your sitting position to a laying position, you on top of him, which makes his erection more prominent to you. The next second you can feel his lips press against yours, kissing you passionately while at the same time unclasping your bra and sliding it off your arms, then throwing it away.

You feel his tongue brushing your lips and open your mouth a little for him, giving him way to fight with your tongue over dominance. During your make out session you continue to grind against his erection, which makes you moan because of all the new sensations you can feel throughout your whole body. Encouraged, you break away and start kissing down his neck to his chest and grab the hem of his boxers, crawling between his legs in the process. You look up at Chishiya, waiting for some sort of reaction.

He looks at you, anticipation glistening in his eyes, ready for whatever you are planing. You really have no idea what you are doing, so you hope that he will guide you, but it does not look like it. You slowly drag his boxers down and finally free his already with pre-cum leaking dick. You gulp at the sheer sight of his size and toss his boxers somewhere out of sight. Careful not to hurt him, you wrap a hand around his erection and give it a gentle stroke, which makes your husband groan in pleasure. You add your other hand start pumping his cock with both hands, varying in speed and pressure, to see what pleasures Chishiya the most.

You soon find a rhythm that he seems to really like and decide to go one step further, taking the tip in between your lips and to gently suck it, occasionally tasting his dick with your tongue and licking it up and down, before you take him more and more into your mouth.

When you finally find your flow, you feel Chishiya's hand on top of your head, stopping you. “You want me to finish off that quickly, without pleasing you first?”, he teasingly asks you, panting slightly because of how good you make him feel. You look up at him, giving him an innocent smile and let go of his cock “Lay down”, he demands and you obey immediately, excited for what is to come next.

His hands travel across your body, caressing your soft skin carefully and teasing you, gently rubbing circles here and there, to test where your most sensitive spots are and you humming in response. After some exploration, Chishiya begins to trail kisses down your neckline, down to your breasts, licking over your nipple, then he abruptly sucks it between his lips and gently bites down on the soft flesh, making you moan, while he cups the other one with his hand and gently massages it.

After a few moments he changes sides and does the same procedure to the other nipple, giving it some attention too. You try to grind your hips against him, but he pushes you roughly down, signalling that he is not done yet. He continues to kiss down your belly until he reaches your lace tanga, hooks his fingers into it and drags it painfully slow down your legs, to your ankles and throws it away, leaving you naked. You feel your cheeks heat up and you try to push your legs together, put he sits in between them and is way stronger than you.

His hand trails upwards, from your feet towards your already wet pussy, you are getting wetter the closer he gets. Your breath hitches, watching Chishiya's hand finally reaching your wet core, slowly dragging his fingers through your folds upwards to your clit, making you moan loudly. “You are already so wet for me”, he says with an amusing tone in his voice, looking down on you.

Chishiya starts rubbing circles on the most sensitive part of your body, watching you squirm and moan under his touch. He then pushes one of his fingers into you, giving you a second to adjust to the new sensation of having something inside you. You are already overwhelmed with emotions and feelings and really enjoyed the feeling of his finger inside you, you couldn't wait to find out how his cock would fill you up.

After a few moments, Chishiya starts pumping his finger into you, while his other hand is massaging your breast, occasionally pinching your nipple, which gains some high pitched moans from you. You try to get a hold by grabbing the bedsheet underneath you, buckling your hips up to meet his movement. He then enters a second finger and adds some pressure on your clit with his thumb. You can already feel a strange feeling build up in your stomach. “Ch-Chishiya-ah! It-it feels so g-good!”, you manage to bring out between moaning. Only seconds later your first climax washes over you, but Chishiya gives you no time to ride it out, his fingers simply penetrate you further.

Your husband smirks, looking down on the moaning mess he created. Your moaning only intensifies. “P-please, Ch-Chishiya! Fuck me, already!”, you beg, panting heavily.

“Only because you asked yo nicely, kitten”, he replies, his fingers retreating from your soaking pussy.

He reaches over you to the night stand and grabs a condom from the drawer, carefully opening it and the rolling it over his dick. Chishiya positions himself in front of your entrance and looks at you. “This might hurt now, like a lot. Just warning you”, he states, before slowly pushing himself inside of you, bit after bit. And it really hurt. You feel tears forming in your eyes and claw at the bedsheets, in order to ease the pain. You try to breathe as normal as possible and adjust to his size and it is really helpful that he waits before he starts moving.

Minutes pass by and you give him a weak nod. He begins rocking his hips at a slow pace at first, so that you can get used to it. After a while you let go of the bedsheets and wrap your arms around Chishiya instead, coming to enjoy the feeling of his cock penetrating you. He sees this as a sign to go faster and increases his speed, gaining a loud moan from you and making him groan in pleasure.

“You are so fucking tight”, he compliments you, pounding harder into you, increasing the volume of your moaning drastically.

He locks eyes with you as he penetrates your inner walls. You try to get a hold on anything, clawing his back, knowing that this is most likely to leave some marks, but you don't care.

You feel the same feeling like before building up in your stomach with each thrust and when he stops to drape your legs over his shoulder and slams into you again, you can not hold back any longer. You scream his name in ecstasy, the knot in your stomach building more and more the harder he pounds into you. You can feel him deep in your pussy, touching all the right spots over and over again, sending you over the edge and seeing stars.

“Ch-Chishiya!”, with one last scream of his name you feel the sensation of your second climax crushing down on you and wave after wave is washing over you, while Chishiya is still thrusting deep into you, but you can feel that he gets more sloppy with each thrust. He pumps himself a few more times into you, before you can feel how his seed is filling the condom and he comes with a loud grunt, head hanging low.

After a few moments he pulls out of you and walks into the bathroom, not coming out for the next few minutes. But when he comes back he has a slightly wet towel with him and begins to clean you up, without saying a word. You just lay there, motionless and let him do.

You watch him as he climbs back to you and lays down, waiting for you to get comfortable and snuggle up to him, until he drapes the blanket over the both of you.

“I love you”, you mumble, as you close your eyes, to get some peaceful sleep after such an eventful day.

“I love you, too”, is all you can faintly hear, as Chishiya starts to rub small circles on your back and you fall asleep.

[redrobin-detective]

because I could not stop for death

because I could not stop for death / he kindly stopped for me / the carriage held but just ourselves / and immortality ~ Emily Dickinson

Danny Fenton was dying, properly this time.

Somehow, in the back of his head and in his worst nightmares, he knew it would end this way: bleeding on the floor of his parents’ lab where it had all began. He was so hot he felt like his skin was on fire, blood and ectoplasm were dripping all over him and his lungs and heart were working overtime to try in vain to keep him alive a moment longer. He’d imagined at the time that there would be more screaming but death, in the end, was turning out to be a quiet little affair. A lonely table set for one.

“Danny, Danny come on, you-you gotta slow down your breathing, just relax, for me, please,” Sam moaned, more than making up for his lack of noise. She was shaking and touching him all over, his chest, his face, his hair. Normally she jumped right into action but she had to know, deep down, that there was nothing she could do. All that was left was to watch her panic and cry, it wasn’t his favorite image. 

“Vlad!” He heard Tucker scream cry into the phone, “please it’s Tucker, Danny’s dying I think. The Fentons had some new invention, something about his core, please we don’t know what to do!” 

Ugh Vlad, he was probably going to be so happy Danny was on his way out. He wasn’t looking much forward to his last images being his archenemy gloating. Tucker hung up and reached down to grasp Danny’s hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry dude, Vlad’s coming. He knows so much about you half ghosts that you’ll be fixed up on no time.” Right, Danny was already dead. If calling Vlad, feeling like he did something, helped Tucker move on then he’d deal with it.

Danny tilted his head to the side where Sam’s fingernails were carding through his hair. It was getting harder to see with the blood pouring out of his eyes but he looked at her, and tried to memorize her face. He’d never been able to tell her how much he loved her, that any day spent with her was a blessing. Tucker too, his best bro and a part of his soul. His best friends in the whole wide world, through thick and thin. God, he was going to miss them.

“Glurk,” he said, trying to convey those feeling but the fluids in his mouth and airway made it impossible. “Blerh.”

“Shh shh shh,” Sam soothed, “it’s okay, don’t try to talk.”

“Daniel!” He heard Vlad’s voice shriek as he materialized in front of the portal. Sam and Tucker were violently pushed out the way. Danny wanted to be angry at his loved ones being taken away in his final moments but anger was for the living, he barely had the energy to breathe. This death was too long and too short all at once. He made eye contact with Vlad who all at once lost the frantic edge to his tone and and instead knelt on the floor. “Oh my dear boy. What did they do to you?”

“What is going on?” Sam demanded, shoving her way back in. Danny was glad, he could see again like this. “Why aren’t you doing something!”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Vlad said in a flat, monotone, he picked up one of Danny’s hands and patted it gently. “His core is dying, it’s like a ghost’s heart. It contains their very essence, it is from which everything they are comes from. If Jack and Maddie somehow disrupted it then there’s nothing anyone can do to save him.”

“But he’s human too,” Tucker defended, grabbing Danny’s other hand. His human warm skin burned but the contact felt so good, he twitched his fingers closer to his friend’s. “He-he doesn’t need a core, he’s already got a heart. So, so he doesn’t have powers, we can do normal again.”

“You-” Vlad hissed before taking a calming breath. “The accident that made Daniel like this irreparably altered him. His core was as much a part of keeping him alive as his other organs, without it, his body is shutting down.” Vlad turned down to look Danny in the eye and saw true, genuine grief in those hateful red eyes. 

“I cannot imagine the agony you are going through, I’m so sorry. I’d say it will be over soon but,” a hitch that sounded almost like a sob if it was coming from anyone other than Vlad. “But you’ve hovered on the edge of death for years, son, and you’ve always been such a fighter. You have minutes at most but those minutes are an eternity when you’re suffering.”

Sam and Tucker’s sobbing blended together in the background, Vlad was saying something with a miserable, stunned expression. The swirling of the portal in the background seemed louder than anything, louder than his heart beat pounding and pounding as it ran it’s last race. 

“Daniel, Danny,” he focused his eyes back on Vlad who had a stubborn, unhappy set to his brow. “Do you want me to make the pain stop? An ectoblast to your chest will end your life instantly.”

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Sam shrieked, coming back into view and looking like she was trying to fight Vlad off. “You do anything to him and I’ll kill you!” Tucker just sat and stared at him, like he too was trying memorize Danny’s face.

“It’s a mercy, Samantha or do you want his last moments on earth to be drowning on the blood in his lungs.”

“Sam, he has a point. I don’t- I don’t think we can fix this.”

“No! No we always fix things, I’ll do it myself if I have to!”

Danny’s vision was starting to go, more black than anything else. He closed his eyes and readied himself for the inevitable. 

“Time Out,” Danny opened his eyes and found he was no longer in pain. He was standing up and apart from where he’d previously been lying. Sam had her hands in Vlad’s face and the older hybrid was snarling something at her. Tucker was midmotion trying to stand up, presumably to get Sam but the three of them were frozen in the moment. Danny turned and found Clockwork floating, looking very out of place in his parents lab. “Good evening, Danny.”

“You that short on cash that you work part time as a grim reaper?” Danny quipped out of habit. He looked down at his body and grimaced a bit, that wasn’t a pretty sight. No doubt traumatizing for Tucker and Sam. God how were they going to explain this to his parents? “Gonna ferry me across the River Styx? I don’t have two pennies but I think I have a bloodied $10 on me.”

“You’re core is dying and you have 17 seconds left in this world before all your organs give out and finish the process you began when you turned on your parent’s ghost portal,” Clockwork explained as he changed into child form. 

“O-okay,” Danny said shakily, trying to be brave even when he was so, so scared. He was going out whether he wanted it or not but he refused to leave crying. “Nice of you to come say goodbye then but, uh but unless you have something to say then you should let me go back. No one knows better than me that you can’t outrun death. Thanks but I’m uh I’m ready.”

Clockwork stared at him for a bit, not sure how long, time was weird like this but he changed forms a few times. “You’re quite the remarkable young man, Danny Fenton.”

“Uh thanks,” Danny added, once more looking at his body which had, according to Clockwork, a 17 second expiration date. “What’s going to happen? Am I going to become a ghost? Does heaven or hell exist for someone like me?”

“I don’t get to decide what happens, I merely see options,” Clockwork stated easily, taking his time. “If you die naturally you’ll become ghost, a mere shadow of who you are now and one who would fade fairly quickly. You don’t have strong enough anger or regrets to tie you in the real world for long.” Not great but okay he supposed, hell for his friends and family though. “You could let Plasmius deliver his mercy kill, destroying what’s left of your ghost core and ensuring you do not come back.” Better, probably won’t help the Fruitloop’s instability but he can’t save everyone.

“That one comes with it’s own caveat but I’ll get to that in a moment,” Clockwork explained. “There is a third option where you get up off the floor and walk away.” Danny blinked then looked back at his body which certainly wasn’t walking anywhere but into a plush casket. Clockwork opened his hands and the Ghost King’s Crown materialized in his hands. “If you accept your claim to the King’s Cown, it will revitalize your core and your life would be saved.”

Danny blinked.

“By sealing Pariah Dark, you won by proxy and established a legitimate claim to the throne. The Zone has been without a king for millennia, most have forgotten the old rules. Those who remembered were not too keen on a half-ghost child assuming leadership and kept you in the dark. If Plasmius ends your life then your claim transfers over to him, which he is aware of. It had been his plan all along to trick you into defeating Pariah so he could steal the Crown from you at a later date, a much easier opponent.”

Danny’s mind was overloaded with information, he didn’t know what to focus on first. He stared at his 17 seconds from death face and tried to process it all. Crown? Claim? Vlad?

“Of course,” Clockwork tutted, “he didn’t plan on your dying and in such a gruesome fashion. If he kills you and takes your claim, he would spend his remaining years ruling the Ghost Zone in a just, controlled fashion for your memory. He destroys all the stable portals and keeps the ghost and human worlds separate.” Clockwork became and old man and titled his head, “it’s not a bad timeline, all things considered.”

“And if I take it?” Danny asked quietly.

“You’re compassionate, brave and motivated, you have all the makings of a revolutionary king,” Clockwork smiled. “The Zone would experience and unprecedented era of peace, there would be positive interactions between human and ghosts for the first time since life and death split into two. Your name would spoken with reverence for the rest of time.”

“But I don’t want to be king,” Danny frowned.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Clockwork stated. “Which is why I am giving you the choice. If you pass peacefully there will be no one to claim the Crown and life will continue on, ghost attacks and all. If Plasmius kills you, he becomes an effective but unmemorable king. If you take the Crown, you can get the chance to tell Sam and Tucker how much you love them.”

Danny rubbed at his face, he didn’t want to die but he’d be sealing away his entire future with a move like this. He didn’t even know if the Crown would let him go with death, maybe he’d die and be stuck as the Ghost King until his core finally gave out lord in who knows how long. Eternity was an awful long time to carry such a responsibility. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, too afraid of the answer.

“Is there ever a timeline I became an astronaut?” He asked instead. Clockwork hummed, seemingly unsurprised by Danny’s non-sequitur. 

“Yes, in one of the few universes where you never walked into the portal. You never go into space what with human politics putting a halt on the programs but you work for NASA. You leave Amity Park at 17 and don’t come back save for your parents’ dual funeral.” He paused and Danny felt read down to his very bones, “from the moment you became half ghost you were always heading for this moment. The circumstances varied but it always came down to you and the Crown. Time is straining to continue, to see how this drama plays out. Will you accept it and all the joy and grief that comes with it?”

Danny looked over at Vlad, still mid-sneer but there was a scared desperation in his face. He and Vlad sniped at each other all the time but Danny didn’t really hate him and he didn’t think Vlad did either. Leaving him alone, plus making him be king was a heavy burden to put on his enemy. 

Sam and Tuck probably wouldn’t recover from this, he’d put them through so much already but he just knew that they’d never be the same. Could he do that to them? Take the easy way out and leave them to suffer? Mom and Dad didn’t deserve to come home to a dead son, the truth would come out and they’d never forgive themselves. Jazz certainly wouldn’t, she was 2 states over at University but he could already hear her angry, grief-stricken screams. 

Death, death was quiet. It was quiet and merciful and sad, but it was also easy. And Danny Fenton had never once taken the easy route. He reached out and took and the crown before shakily placing it on his head. He gasped, throwing his head back as his core swelled, taking up residence once more right next to his heart. Clockwork smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. 

“The Crown of Fire, pardon me the Crown changes with each core, the Crown of Ice is now yours as is the Zone. Your reign begins now but so too does the rest of your life. People are waiting for you. Time in.” Danny slammed back into awareness on the floor of his parents’ lab, the floor he’d almost died on twice. 

He sat up as cold radiated off his body, causing frost to crawl down his arms and along the floor. Sam, Tucker and Vlad, who’d been frozen up until now, jumped back to life. There was a new, familiar weight on his head that he didn’t dare acknowledge. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent goodbye to a quiet, normal life. It wouldn’t be all bad, he could be happy like this but the Crown still felt like a iron manacle around his neck. But he got used to the ghost powers, he could get used to this too. Maybe one day he won’t look at the stars and say ‘what if?’

“Danny!” Sam shouted, throwing herself into his arms soon followed by Tucker. Their warm weight, their relieved sobs, their shaky breaths in his air, now this was something worth living for. He squeezed them tightly.

“But how dude, you were at death’s door!” Tucker asked, still not letting go.

“You accepted the Crown,” Vlad said evenly, “I wasn’t aware you even knew about your claim. Who told you?”

“You don’t know everything, Vlad,” Danny sighed, sitting himself upright. Ugh his shirt was covered in blood and ectoplasm. He needed to trash these clothes before his parents freaked. And find a way to hide the floating ice crown on his head. 

“Even an old man can be surprised every now and again,” Vlad said wearily. He stood up to his full height before startling Danny by dipping down to one knee. “Then allow me to be the first to welcome my new king and wish him well.”

“I thought you wanted this,” Danny questioned.

“I do, I did,” Vlad said, unusually off balance. “To be quite honest, I’m not sure how to feel about it but, right now, I’m just immeasurably happy you’re alive, little badger. Now I best be off, enjoy your kingdom, my liege, I’ll be sure to come bother you some time soon.” Vlad disappeared in a swirl of pink leaving just him, Sam and Tucker still clinging to him.

Danny may have a kingdom, a job he didn’t want and his whole life decided in a spur of the moment choice, but he also had something very important. He squeezed his friends tightly.

“I love you guys, thank you for being my friends even though I have the worst ideas for activities. Dying? On a Sunday night? How lame is that?” Sam laughed, a bit hysterical but it was real and it made Danny feel weightless. 

“Don’t do that again, buddy,” Tucker breathed into his shoulder. “So you gonna explain what just happened and why you’re apparently the Ghost King or something?”

“Yeah, yeah I will but let’s get changed first. Mom and Dad will be home soon and I think I’m going to need to have a conversation with them about my new job.” 

[all-about-seggs]

Dropped Façades-

Rating:❌ 18+, Explicit ❌

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x shy! female reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Masturbation, fingering, vaginal sex (on the rougher side)

 A/n: This is a happy!AU where everything is good and nobody dies OKAY?!ಥ_ಥ

Shining bands of morning light filled your vision making you squint from its brilliance but the sunny whether didn’t do much to deter the hazy clouds looming over your sunken heart.

   “ I’m heading off then”, the apathetic tone of your boyfriend’s voice matched his equally deadpan look as he called out to you from the front door.

 Another night of Levi staying over at your place came to a monotonous end. Ever since the beginning of your relationship, your nights have been a predictable cycle of him cooking for you, a few kisses exchanged before bed, that too if he’s feeling generous and then going your separate ways the next day.

Your shyness combined with the intimidating aura of the drill sergeant you were dating held you back everytime the sun went down and the ache in your core begged for attention.

Being an astonishingly disbalanced mix of prim and proper and foul mouthed, Levi didn’t left much to the imagination when it came to his likes and dislikes so you often ended up being what you figured he needed the most.

Be it keeping up with his mandatory cleaning or intervening everytime you know he’s on the cusp of whiplashing his subordinates, you were what placated him and brought serenity in his life.

You thought being in love with him and have it reciprocated would make the entire process as natural as breathing but the longer it went on the more harder it became to get out of your shell. Maybe it’s not the most idealistic phase of your relationship, self sacrifice was afterall, just a pretty word.

And the primary cause of your concern was completely at odds with the noble emotions of the duty you took upon as Levi’s girlfriend.

Lackluster was what the current state of your sex life could’ve been described as if it existed in the fist place. For the first three weeks of your budding relationship, not only work but your internal conflict was getting in the way of your understandable desires. And the fact that even he didn’t tried to make a move on you got you wondering if he was even interested in sex or in you physically.

Pushing the thoughts of potential sexy times with Levi away you walk over to the front door to send him off him, every second of the ten step way filled with the silence of unspoken words.

Even after he left, your stared at the empty place getting more and more annoyed by your own incompetence to speak out. Wanting to distract yourself from your current trail of thoughts you started to think of stuff to do until your laundry basket caught your eye.

There among your clothes laid your boyfriend’s shirt that he wore last light and despite your attempts at talking yourself out of the upcoming urge to play with your untouched pussy you find yourself grabbing the article out of the basket and onto your bed.

Spreading the shirt over your pillow, you take in Levi’s lingering scent. It was an embarrassing sight of considered from a second person’s point of view, creepy even. But right now this was all you had to calm your sexually frustrated self. Lying sideways on the bed you shoved your pants and underwear down your legs to get better access to your core.

As you caressed your clit you thought about how his own fingers would feel, the calloused and roughened tips of his fingers that held more strength than one cannot even imagine, just the thought of those digits entering you and stretching you out fuelled your arousal.

You were sure he could make you cum with his hands in less than half the time it takes you but gosh did you wanted his cock. You wanted to see it, touch it, suck it and choke in it if possible, how it would feel stretching your cunt and hitting that g-spot which made you shiver and scream for more. Thoughts of your pussy being filled to the brim with his girth overtook all five of your senses.

Letting your imagination run rampant your trembling body was practically making the bed creak, not even sensing Levi’s presence even when he was standing next to the bedroom door, arms crossed with a look of utter disdain.

“Have you been spending the past three weeks getting off of your hand?”, his annoyed voice overtaking your soft mewls pulled you back from the edge. Recovering from the initial shock, your naked body splayed out on the bed clammed up under his sharp eyes, thinking it’d be best to not hide your visibly throbbing pussy so you waited for him to continue, face and neck growing hotter by the second in shame and guilt.

   “ I forgot my shirt so I had to come back, but”, eyeing up the spit covered clothing he strutted towards you, “ it seems you’ve already taking a liking to it”.

Now taking a spot right next you, his one arm reached out, taking your chin in between his hand, he gave it a hard tug, to make you face him from an angle that made his callous eyes seem downright frightening.

“Look at that mess. Who do you think is going clean it up? ”, Levi’s voice was almost a hiss, an icy thread crackling along the cold air of your bedroom.

Drooling all over his shirt, you haphazardly started fixing your clothes you pushed yourself in a sitting position.

“I’m- I’m sorry! I’ll clean that up!”, You squeak, searching for some tissues or towel to wipe the fabric and making it a point to avoid eye contact. Watching you panic like he just caught you committing a crime, he heaved a sigh, half exasperated and half amused by your shyness.

His face didn’t give away his thoughts but surprisingly, his words did.

“I wanted you to feel comfortable enough to bring it up”, eyeing at the slick that covered your inner thighs he dropped his gaze to the ground before starting back up, “ but I guess I am partly at fault too for not taking any initiative either”.

“well?, it’s your turn to tell me what you want”, The stiff tone of his voice was offset by the gentle look of his eyes.

All his straightforwardness came to a halt when he saw you sitting there shell shocked. Your dazed look, induced by his unexpected words, became still for a while. Not wanting to be the only one who kept their cards closed you forced yourself to speak.

  “ Then, I want you to stay here……. And”, trailing off you meekly take a hold of his crisp dress shirt, still unable to look at him directly and hoping he’ll get the gist.

The next couple of seconds went by in a flash when your top came off and got thrown to the floor, with him pinning you down, Levi takes off the rest of your cloths and his effortlessly.

With only his boxers on he sat next to you, taking one of your thigh in his firm grip, he spread your legs open. Sharp gaze falling on your already moistened core he wordlessly slipped two of his thick digits inside, making you jolt at the contact.

“Move”, his command seemed both out of place and erotic at the same time, making you struggle a little before finding the right pace.

Back unintentionally arching against the bed you lift your hips, bucking against his hand while he leaned down to bit your nipple, coaxing a cry of pleasure out of you. Your entire body trembled with the sheer amount of effort it took for you to move.

“I saw you move your hips better than this when you were fucking yourself y/n. Faster”, his every word sent pleasant shivers up your spine, making you wonder if you always had such an authority kink. Or if you  were just naturally submissive in front of your deliciously dominant boyfriend.

You rolled your hips faster, gyrating them deeper into his fingers, only for them to be abruptly pulled out, making you feel empty. But in your daze you noted Levi's own impatience when he got off the bed to reach for his pants.

The thumping of your heartbeat filled your ears as you watched him take out a condom from his pant pocket. Revelling in the fact that he too wanted this to happen sooner or later.

Rolling down the latex over his shaft, Levi didn’t wasted a single moment before sliding himself into your sopping wet hole. His length stretched you enough to make you cum on the spot but you wanted him to take you higher so you waited for him to move. Settings his own pace he started plunging in and out of you ruthlessly, filling your senses with both pain and pleasure.

“You- You’re being …Too rough!”, Voice cracking by the force of his thrusts your entire body shifted higher up the bed and for a split second you worried about the state of your bed.

“Well we did decided to be more honest with each other”, with his voice as steady as his hard thrusts, Levi rammed his cock into with an unforgiving pace right off the bat “ and this is my way of doing this”.

It didn’t take him long to hit your sweet spot, your high pitched yelps just confirming his perfect angle and he snapped his hips again and again to reach the depths of your cunt.

The constant pounding of his cock was bringing you closer to your release, the toe curling pleasure just within your reach made you impatient so you bucked your hips to match his movements.

Levi’s pulsating member inside you soon gave you the final push you needed to experience the mind numbing euphoria you wanted for so long and with a few more rolls of his hips you felt him follow right after, with some low grunts of his own.

His muscular body falling on top of your, he breathed in your raw scent, tucking his face in the crook of your sweaty neck and for the first time ever you saw the sight of a disheveled and messy Levi Ackerman.

It was undeniably sexy, the way his bangs stuck to his forehead, body gleaming with a sheen layer of clean sweat. The pleasant fatigue you were experiencing took you in a dreamlike state from which you didn’t wanted to wake up from until,

“Get your ass off of the damn bed and go shower”, abruptly rolling you off of you, Levi’s words are almost like a warning.

“I’ll clean up in here”.

“Wait- what happened to my sweet and gentle aftercare?!”, Feeling a bit dejected you whined as you watched him put on his boxers, the seriousness of his face told you it’s better to just get off the bed without any questions. Your desire to bask in the afterglow of your hot sex coming to a premature end was expected. Yet you couldn’t accept it so this time you let your hesitation go, not wanting to repeat the same cycle of frustration you had experienced a while back.

“Then……..Can I expect some action in the bathroom too?”, biting your lips to hold back your smirk you turn to look at Levi for a response to your obvious attempt to elongated your intimate time together. “what?! Can’t blame me for asking you to make up for the past dry three weeks!”.

“If you behave like a good girl then I’ll give you something in the bathroom too”, not even glancing in your direction, he spoke nonchalantly, making quick work of the dirty sheets.

“ like what, a bath?”, Sceptically eyeing his face you silently hoped you had a longer night ahead.

“You were not the only one who was waiting for this you know”, his uncharacteristically soft voice made you do a double take.

Levi was smiling. But for all his delicate features, his smile was like a knife.

And this was all the confirmation you needed to know he’s gonna wreck you good and long.

[cyncerity]

not to be a bother but-

will there be a part two to the t!revivebur and g!tommy story or would you like to just leave it at that?

:)

Now I wanna make this a whole au how does this keep happening-

tw: vore, hard vore mention (doesn’t happen), and angst

Also credit to my friends Calli and Bio Anon who helped me out a lot with writing this!! (most of the good ideas came from them lmao)

Wilbur woke up to the walls around him still, the steady breath of the lungs not far above him indicating that Tommy was still sound asleep, and he was still tucked away in the teen’s gut. The realization of that very fact hit him harder now that he was fully awake. He supposed he had the right to be a little tired yesterday. After all, he was now mere inches tall, and far more insignificant in the grand scheme of things compared to how he was before his death. He had only agreed to stay here because Tommy had been to tired to argue with. But now that he was awake, he wanted out, not giving a damn if it was day or night outside his flesh prison.

Wilbur began to pound on the smooth, sponge-like walls that surrounded him in an attempt to wake up Tommy, which after a few minutes began to work as he felt the teen grumble and sit up, shifting Wilbur in the process. The now-tiny felt something press into the stomach from the outside, collapsing the already small organ into him further. “Hello…?” Tommy asked, apparently completely forgetting about the previous night (night? Wilbur couldn’t be sure), apparently.

“You prick, it’s Wil, get me out of here, you said you would, remember?” Wilbur shouted. There was a surrounding silence for a few moments before Tommy stuttered an answer. “I- I thought you didn’t like to be called Wil…?”

‘Why wouldn’t I like to be called Wil, that my nam- oh.’ Wilbur thought. Tommy had mistaken him for “Ghostbur” the previous night. Somehow, this only managed to piss off Wilbur further.

“Maybe ‘Ghostbur’ or whoever didn’t, but fuck him cause I’m here now. It’s me, Wil, actual Wil, so let me out. I don’t give a damn if innocent little ghost me liked it in here cause I don’t, so get me out of here like you said you would you fucking dickhead child.”

Tommy gave no response, or any indication that he even heard Wil. He sighed in annoyance at the silence as he started to shove at the walls again, repeatedly shouting for Tommy to let him out.

*****

Tommy couldn’t decide if he wanted to throw up or keep Wilbur exactly where he was. On one hand, he couldn’t stand to think that his older brother figure, his now alive older brother figure, was stuck inside him. Inside him where he had only ever trusted Ghostbur to go, because it (for some reason) comforted the small ghost as much as it comforted Tommy. But on the other hand, if Wilbur really hated it as much as he claimed he did, Tommy wanted to keep him there as long as possible as an uncharacteristic sort of vengeance towards the man for taking Ghostbur from him.

Tommy had relished being able to keep Ghostbur safe. To help him like he had failed to help Wilbur. But now, he was being reminded by every kick, punch, and shout that came from his stomach that the comfort Ghostbur gave him was gone, and was never coming back. The thought alone made him want to do the unthinkable by his own means. I mean, how hard would it be to get rid of Wilbur from where he was? That would give him Ghostbur back…right?

Tommy let out a shaky sigh as tears began to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t do it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it. Not in a place Ghostbur felt so safe in. Even if it did give him the ghost back, Tommy was sure that Ghostbur would never be able to forgive him for something like that. Hell, Tommy would never even be able to forgive himself.

A particularly loud yell came from the man the man in his belly, snapping Tommy back into reality. Wilbur seemed to be having a tantrum inside his stomach, as the tiny’s voice had become considerably more hoarse and Tommys gut hurt considerably worse in the time he had taken to zone off in his thoughts. All Wilbur was screaming about was vague threats towards Tommy and a considerable amount of gaslighting, too. Well, that made Tommy’s decision a bit easier.

The teen let out a small laugh through his tears, making Wilbur stop momentarily. “What the fuck?!” The tiny screamed. “Why the hell are you laughing?! Let. Me. Out!”

“What makes you think you’re in control right now?” Tommy stated in a mockingly monotone voice that contradicted the amount of crying Tommy had just done. Wilbur felt chills run down his spine as he went to answer, “What do y-“

“You’re the one stuck inside me. You’re in no place to be making threats. Do you know how easily I could kill you right now?” Tommy interrupted. He could practically feel Wilbur tense up in his stomach. “Y-you wouldn’t…”

“But I would, considering getting rid of you would give me Ghostbur back.” Sure Tommy had decided that he wasn’t that heartless, but Wilbur didn’t need to know that. And the tiny sure as hell believed it, considering he could now feel Wil shaking in his core.

“So if I were you, I’d behave, cause you’re gonna be in there for a while. Or at least, until I believe that you’re trustworthy enough to be let out.” Tommy continued, getting out of bed and getting ready for the day.

“Y- You can’t, You won’t get away with it! Someone will find out! I- I’ll scream! I’ll scream until your ears fucking bleed!!” Wilbur screeched as he writhed around in the stomach.

“I’ll ignore it, I’m sure you’ll lose your voice before my ears start to bleed.” Tommy scoffed. “And besides, even if someone did find out, who’d help you? No one wanted to back anyways. If anything, I’m doing the server a favor.”

Tommy felt Wilbur slump back against the stomach wall, stunned into silence, as he snickered to himself. He had the man who had caused him so much misery trapped where only he could get to him.

This was going to be fun.

[kitababie]

pathetic - suna rintarou

an // been slowly working on this one for awhile now, @undermattsun has given me skate rat brain rot sooo here we are they’re a dark content blog so please proceed with caution and dni if you’re a minor

wc // 1.5k unedited cause i suck, sorry

tw // smut, alcohol and drug use, reader doesn’t cum cause suna is a meanie ;(( but obviously all characters are aged up.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT (like, comment or rb) IF YOU ARE A MINOR i’m really not comfortable with it at all so please go read my fluff instead

It was pitiful really, the way you cling onto every word he spat at you, jumped at every opportunity to see him even if he spent the whole time hardly acknowledging you. He did acknowledge you when others tried to chat you up, you were stuck in a loop. You were almost giddy now, when you went to parties with him and someone got a little too handsy, you enjoyed the glint in his usually bored eyes, you must mean something to him right? That glint and the fact that he kept you around was enough for you to keep hoping.

So maybe you got a little overzealous tonight agreeing to this particular party; well, party is a generous term, it was just Suna’s group with a few plus ones hanging out in one of their basements.

You did have a bit of an alternative motive, which was pretty pitiful. But what else can you do? You just couldn’t kick your Suna addiction and he really didn’t seem to look twice at you until you had another guy trying to get in your pants.

So you had no choice but to flirt up a storm with one of his friends right?

-

The basement was half lit and smelled like old smoke and years of built up must. It didn’t seem familiar, or maybe you had been here and couldn’t remember the night, nevertheless you made your way further into the basement. There were a few small groups, some with faces you’ve seen before and some not. It wasn’t hard to find the half hooded eyes you were looking for.

He looked in your direction for a split second, nodding ever so slightly at your presence before bringing his attention back to lighting the small pipe in his hands.

How he always managed to make your heart race and stomach ache in anticipation with only a half assed nod, you would never understand. Your normally quick witted demeanour felt worlds away when you were near Suna. You headed to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink.

As you neared the kitchen, which was only a deep freeze, mini fridge and a few cabinets overhanging the mismatched countertops that were heavily cluttered with empty and full bottles and cans of alcohol alike. There were only two other people in the room, you recognized them to be the ‘infamous’ Miya twins.

They were in a heated discussion about...something. You really couldn’t hear anything to provide any proper context, which admittedly was probably for the best. The blonde-Atsumu right?- was more upset looking than his counterpart but they were equally loud.

Before you knew it there was an empty can being launched across the room, narrowly missing your head as you duck down.

“Oi! Next time look where you’re throwing!” You mumble an ‘asshole’ as you reach for the closest bottle of booze with the intention of mixing a drink.

Atsumu was quick to forget his argument and sauntered over to you, standing on the over side of the island countertop.

“Aw ’m sorry doll, how about I make ya a drink to make up for it?” He sported a lopsided smirk as he rested his head on his palm, leaning closer to you in the process.

You smirked back “depends on the drink I guess”

“How about I make it and you tell me how much of an amazing bartender I make?”

A ‘tch’ could be heard beside you, you jumped for a second not realizing the gray haired brother had made his way beside you.

“Shut it ‘Samu!” The blonde roared as he started pouring the drink.

“Didn’t even say anything ya idiot” his voice was low and rich. He side eyed you for a moment, you could practically feel his gaze rack up your body.

A cup sliding towards you snapped your attention away from Osamu.

Rum and coke, you conclude as the drink hits your taste buds, a very strong one at that. You thank Atsumu for the cup and try to bid the twins farewell.

“Ah come on don’t run away just yet, pretty lady” the quieter brother mused, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer. His body heat radiated towards you as he rests his hand on your waist.

“I have to go back to my...friend though” the hesitation made Osamu raise an eyebrow. ‘...friend’ as the only title you could come up with though, you only rolled your eyes as an answer.

“y/n.”

Speak of the devil. You spin around at the familiar monotone voice. Suna looked less than pleased, and definitely not sober, eyes burning a hole on the hand resting on your waist. You wiggled away from the younger twin and took ahold of Suna’s lazily outstretched hand.

“Till next time pretty boys! And thanks for the drink.” You wave them off as the raven haired male pulled you back to the grimy couch he was seated at earlier. You didn’t miss the eye roll he gave at your nickname for the twins. He slumped down on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, his hands on your thighs and hip. He loved being able to hold and claim you in front of everyone, he was rarely this clingy when it was just the two of you.

You chatted a bit with his friends who were also plopped down near the couch, it was hard to focus as you finished off your drink, you mental cursed yourself for not eating most of the day and letting the liquor go straight to your head. Your face felt warm and your thoughts felt more distant. All you think about were Suna’s hands that crept higher on your thigh and the one that made its way under the hoodie you had stolen from him a week back.

“Let’s get outta here.” He muttered out.

You turn back to look at him and say “I just got here Suna.” You protested lightly.

“I think you’ve socialized enough, we’re going.”

He pushed you off and you fumbled the landing a little, feeling the buzz hit your head harder than before now that you’ve stood up. He gripped the fabric of your sleeve and led the way.

It was dark out now, maybe you were there longer than you thought… Suna was still harshly tugging you towards his piece of shit car, you often told him that he’d end up on the side of the road one of these days and he just replied that if you didn’t like it you could walk.

“Think you’re cute huh? Chatting up the dumbass twins, stealing my clothes too” he pushed you against the side of the car, trapping you in between his arms. He had his same bored expression as his hand slipped back under the hoodie and pawed at your chest.

“Mm just trying to get your attention” you slur out with a low moan at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“That desperate for some dick? Pathetic.” You lazily nod, too embarrassed for words but more than happy that you succeed in getting his attention. He lifted your legs, making you wrap them around his hips. Slowly he grinds against you, desperate you pulled him into a sloppy kiss. A breathy groan left your lips feeling him grow harder against you. Suna was never one for much foreplay however, he was quick to lower your bottoms and shift your panties out of the way.

“Wait Rin someone could see” you realized quickly as he shifted to get his erection free. He gave no warning as he slowly bottomed out in you. He laughed quietly “what don’t want anyone to see you so disparate for a scubbag like me to fuck you? I could call your pretty boys out. I’m sure they’d love to see you like this, practically crying because you can’t handle a little bit of cockwarming.”.

He was right, you were a mess. You tried to move your hips needing friction, his body was unmoving though. “Rin please” you whine out “just make it quick…” you bury your face in his neck, at least if someone came out they wouldn’t be able to see your face.

“As you wish” he muttered before finally moving his hips, his thrusts were fast and unrelentingly. You hung off of him trying your best not to moan, he just fit inside of you so well and his consistent rhythm was more than enough to start the coil building in your core.

He hissed when you clenched around his cock. He pulled your head away from him, hand holding your hair tightly. He couldn’t get enough of your fucked out face, spurting out strings of uneven moans.

You tried to match his pace but gave in as his thrust became more unpredictable and rough, you whimpered realizing he was close. Reaching down to rub your clit you huffed as his hand left your hair to grab your hand and pin it against the car.

You whined out his name, he only ignored you as his face began to scrunch and let out a silent moan as he came inside of you. You huffed once more and let your head fall into his heaving chest.

“Asshole.”