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xzaddyzanakinx · 9 months ago

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My Best Girl

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: domestic violence/abuse, non-con/dub-con, oral sex, emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting

Info: this is a graphic and accurate depiction of an instance of domestic abuse/non-con. Read at your own risk.

🕊dead dove do not eat🕊

“Don't lie to me," he snarled, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. "I saw you."

He leaned in closer, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, filled with pure undiluted jealousy.

"Tell me the truth." Anakin’s fingers dug into your wrists just like your knees dug into the tile of the kitchen floor.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, having a wonderful little moment to yourself. A big tall glass of blue koolaid, your favorite snack and your comfort cartoon playing quietly on your phone for background noise while you worked diligently on repairing your younger brother Luke’s loth-cat stuffie.

The poor thing had been through the wringer this week; left all alone in the cold dark cubby overnight in his preschool classroom, ran over by Leia’s tricycle, and his undoing was being left unattended in the living room under the watchful eye of your family dog. The horrible shriek that pierced your ears was enough to burst your eardrums, you went rushing, hoping that you didn’t walk into a bloody mess.

Though the tantrum that ensued after his initial shock was more than enough to wish maybe just alittle bit that Leia had just wacked him upside the head with her toy doctor’s kit again.

You’d sworn on your life that his ‘only best friend’ would have his leg reattached and in it’s rightful place under his arm when he woke up tomorrow morning.

So there you sat, sewing his leg back on when your stepfather Anakin returned home from work. Covered in oil and grease from his day at the garage, he walked past the kitchen and gave you a wave and crooked smile. You gladly returned the gesture, your relationship with your stepdad had begun rocky, arguments and mean words exchanged on a daily basis. But now, months later, you’d finally begun to get along.

He was a good man, a good dad; it wasn’t his fault that he had a bit of an anger issue. He worked hard to keep it in check, attending therapy, taking CBD gummies, he even tried meditating.

You’d quickly come to realize that his anger was a front to hide his vulnerabilities. He was a horribly cocky and arrogant person outwardly. But inside, tucked away in a beat up box, was a messily stored collection of vulnerabilities and insecurities.

Anakin thrived on praise and affection, he was happiest when he was eight inches deep in your poor little fucked-out pussy. Bathing in the sounds of your babbled compliments, the sweet lilt of your whiny voice when you begged him for more. His favorite thing? The best compliment? The quickest way to reassure him of his worth? That was the devastatingly wet *shlck* of his cock sliding home between your thighs.

It never failed to astound him. The way your body responded to him, the way you were tucked under his thumb. When he was pounding into you night after night while your mother worked the late shift; that’s when he truly came to life.

You made him feel needed. Wanted. Valued. But most importantly? Worshipped.

There was nothing else like the rush of warm adoration he felt from every little noise your pretty mouth made. It flowed over his tired, work-worn body and soothed all his stress away. He needed it. He craved it. He had to have it.

You.

You were the only thing that mattered.

It would be an understatement to say that he regretted marrying your mother. Every second of every day he hated her more. She wasn’t you. She could never be you.

Divorce, the hours of research on annulments, laws and stipulations, the legality of things. He’d searched through it all. He had the best lawyer in the state on speed-dial. Set on retainer for the moment he saw his opportunity to snatch up his brand new trophy wife.

But it’s not exactly acceptable to divorce your wife of six months to run off with her freshly 18 year old daughter is it? No. But was he going to do it? Absolutely.

You were his good girl.

You were his good girl, til now.

Anakin crouched down in front of you, getting on your level somehow made you feel even smaller. Any other time you would’ve taken the time to admire his freshly washed hair that stuck to his forehead in little swoops, the scent of his cedar soap, his bare chest and that delicious V carved into his lower abdomen.

But instead all you could see was the hard line of his lips, his knitted eyebrows… he was trying so hard to be angry. But you could tell he was just in pain, those big beautiful blue eyes were holding back tears, and you so badly wanted to comfort him, to make him understand.

“Anakin. Please listen.” You pleaded with him, desperate to get him to hear you out.

“Oh? I’ve been listening.” He stood back up and grabbed your hair roughly, tilting your head back to force you into eye contact. “I just don’t believe what I heard.”

“Just look!” You said gesturing at your phone laying on the counter near him, the screen cracked. “Please just look at you’ll see.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Seeing what I already know is there.” He scowled.

“Am I not good enough for you?” He hissed, shaking your head by your hair. “Is that it?”

Before you could even answer him he grabbed your jaw and pried your mouth open and shoved two fingers down your throat.

“That’s alright. You don’t deserve me anyway.”

Collecting your saliva on his digits, he removed his fingers and flicked the spit on your face, making you flinch.

“Not even gonna waste my spit on you.” His voice tinged with hurt under the grit of his anger.

Your eyes welled up with tears, never had he spoken to you this way. You never imagined that he was capable of being so mean. Of course he had his issues, you’d argued plenty before you both finally allowed the hands of fate to shove you into each other’s arms. But never like this.

“I come home from work, see you sitting all pretty and patient for me.” He starts, his voice low and dark.

“Then I come back from the shower, ready to hold and love and spoil you just like I do every night. I leaned in to give you a sweet little kiss and what do I see?” You weren’t sure if he wanted an answer, so you stayed silent and waited. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He grumbled. “You were so eager to talk earlier, so fucking talk.”

“You saw me decline a phone call.” You said quietly, trying hard to keep eye contact with him through the blurriness in your vision.

“A phone call from who?” He prodded.

“My friend Tyler.” You answered meekly.

“Exactly.” He released your hair by pushing you backwards, causing you to catch yourself with your elbow right on the granite tile flooring.

Pain shot up your upper arm and wracked your body with a momentary spasm of tension as your brain tried to sort out this new pain. Extended your arm gently you breathed in relief that it wasn’t actually damaged, but you would definitely have a gnarly bruise.

Anakin had turned around, his back to you. One hand on the kitchen counter and the other ruffling his wet hair, shaking off water droplets as he did so.

“Why?” He asked, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “Why would you hang up like that if there wasn’t anything to hide?”

“B-because Ani, I was talking to you!” You tried to explain as you stood up and hesitantly stepped closer to him.

“Don’t.” He barked over his shoulder. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

“I was- okay.” You said, backing away.

“Anakin I was just trying to focus on you that’s all. You’d just gotten home, I didn’t want to be bothered while I was spending time with you.” Your whisper sounded cracked, broken.

“Why is a boy calling you at 8:00 on a Friday huh?” He spun around quickly and grabbed your arm.

“They’re not a-“ You tried to speak, to explain yourself but he didn’t give you a second breath.

He stole the air from your lungs and the words from your mouth with a resounding *smack* to your cheek. The impact was so forceful that your head felt like it was on swivel and you stumbled back. Too shocked to even cry, too hurt to look at him.

“Were you planning to cheat? Is that what this is?” He scoffed.

“N-no!” You squeaked. “No I wouldn’t! Never!”

He laughed, not in amusement or cynicism, but in a strangled bout of hysteria.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” His teeth clenched and bared.

“You think someone else would treat you as well as I do? That they’d be able to put up with your attitude?” He laughed again, pointing his finger in your face.

“You’re a fucking brat you know that? There’s not another man in this galaxy who could love you like I do. You’re a spoiled bitch. But you’re my spoiled bitch.”

You flinched at his choice of words. He’d called you a brat plenty of times, sometimes even as a term of endearment. Bitch though? The thought of him calling you that was previously inconceivable.

“You want me to show you how someone else would treat you? How this stupid fucker Tyler would handle you?” He growled, putting a hand on the back of your neck and forcing you to your knees.

“Anakin wait! Just let-“ He shoved your face into the soft flannel of his pajama pants, fisting your hair to hold you in place while he ground his cock across your tear stained cheeks.

“No sweetheart I’m not Anakin right now remember? I’m anyone but me.” He corrected you.

“Take your fucking shirt off. I want to see those pretty tits.” He smirked as he watched you quickly comply. “There. Not so difficult Hmm?”

You shook your head no in agreement with him, hoping to appease him. You had no idea where this was going, but you knew for damn sure that you weren’t gonna like it.

“That’s right.” He said as he gripped your jaw once more, chuckling when you instinctively dropped your mouth open. “That was the last easy thing you’ll be doing tonight.”

“Pull out my cock.” He demanded, the look on his face giving no indication that this was negotiable.

You hesitated, then steeled yourself to comply with his order. His pretty cock, the beautiful thing that made you feel like you were floating amongst the clouds… was standing tall and proud. This was the only time you’d ever been unhappy to see it and you hoped it was the last time too.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” He grumbled. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? To be a whore? To cheat on me?”

“No! Anakin Tyler isn’t-“ He scoffed and took advantage of your open mouth and forced your head down around his length.

“Fuck.” He mumbled his stomach muscles tightened momentarily before relaxing again.

“Finally some fucking peace and quiet. I’m sick of your whining. I don’t ever want to hear that fuckboy’s name again do you understand me?” He growled, his eyes filled with jealousy painted red with rage.

Anakin started to thrust quick and shallow into your mouth panting while he glared down at you like you were his mortal enemy.

“You like this?” He asked, watching you shake your head no vigorously. “No? Didn’t think you would.”

“Can’t fucking believe this shit.” He moaned, tipping his head back toward the ceiling before letting his chin fall to his chest.

He growled, seeing you drool down the column of your throat. A fire lit behind his eyes and burst into an inferno after only seconds of this brutal punishment.

“Move your tongue.” He commanded, jerking your head to the side when you didn’t do it immediately. “Fuck, that’s better.”

Your tongue lay flat against the under side of his shaft as his cockhead started to bully its way down your throat, in and out in deep ruthless strokes. Tears pricked your eyes and began to fall, this time from discomfort instead of the horrible emotional pain he’d dealt to you.

“What?” He laughed again, looking down at you with a menacing grin that didn’t meet his glassy eyes. “Don’t wanna be a whore anymore do you?”

You shook your head no to the best of your ability and Anakin nodded in agreement, his breath caught in his throat just like his cock was stuck in yours.

“This is how men treat whores.” He said matter of factly. “Like a stupid little fuck toy. Do you want to be a stupid fuck toy?”

“No of course you don’t.” He tsk’d. “You want to be my good girl, my sweet princess.”

You nodded vigorously, choking on his length accidentally from the quick movement.

Your gag reflex kicked in violently, caused by your choking fit as you tried to cough, your body begging for some control to be returned to you. You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat. But despite the pain, there was an odd thrill running through you, a sick satisfaction knowing you were pleasing him in this way. You should hate him for what he’s doing right now, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t find it alittle bit hot.

He was unraveling quickly, his hips snapping fast and deep. You heard the familiar change in breathing that happen just moments before he would cum, the cute little high-pitched whimpers that left his beautiful plump lips.

You tapped his thigh, looking up at him with furrowed brows and pleading eyes. Begging him to relent for just moment so you could breathe.

“No, I’m close. You can wait." he growled back, his pace unrelenting, but his voice becoming shaky.

“I don’t understand.” He panted, looking down at you with a pained expression. “Why would you want to be treated this way when I give you all the love in the world? When I love you so much?

“Seeing you hurt like this baby… it hurts me.” He sniffled, on the verge of tears.

“Just think, imagine it sweetheart; what if you went out there tonight and that horrible guy did this to you?” His eyebrows turned up in a deep swoop.

“You know I’m only doing this to help you right baby?” He let out a choked sob as his cock twitched in your mouth.

“I don’t want you to get hurt! I love you!” He cried out, his own tears freely flowing, salty drips hitting your face as he stared down at you with the face of a broken man.

“Promise me you won’t ever make me do this again.” He whispered, lovingly wiping the tears from your eyes. “I can’t stand it.”

“Promise? You won’t ever do it again? Please baby.” He cried, his chest heaving with a sob as his face scrunched up.

“Can’t do that to me, you can’t! I’d die.” He was practically hysterical, seeing him like this was tearing you apart in ways his rough treatment couldn’t. The pain and torture in his voice was a worse punishment.

“I wouldn’t wanna live without you. I wouldn’t.” He sobbed, his thumbs softly caress your cheekbones made you forget all about the way he was brutalizing you. It made you forget the hurtful things he’d said. You weren’t even sure your throat would be sore after this; how could it be worse than having your heart bruised the way Anakin’s must be?

“My sweet girl.” He sniffled. “My poor baby, I’m sorry. So sorry I had to do this. You understood don’t you doll?

You nodded, crying for an entirely different reason now. If you could, you’d be wailing. Pleading with him as you comforted him with kisses and gentle touches, holding him as he cried over your actions. How could you have done this? How could you be so cruel!?

“Good girl baby.” He hiccuped. “Good girl. I love you. Love you so much babydoll, g-gonna hold you n’ make love to you like you deserve.”

His hips stuttered against your mouth, his stomach tense and his hand tightened around your hair.

“My best girl.” He whined. “Do you want my cum? Those horrible bad men wouldn’t give it to you. They wouldn’t know how much you love it.”

You nodded, eyes rolling back in your head. He’s right. They wouldn’t know, how could they know? No one knew you like Anakin did.

“Mmm… yeah? G-goddamn.” He whimpered, pushing your face deep into his groin, your nose pressed firmly into the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

He sobbed, a full loud heart-wrenching sob as he came violently down your throat. You gratefully drank it down, thankful he’d let you have it after all you’d put him through.

Gently he pulled himself from your mouth, wiping his eyes dry as he sniffled. Tucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up into his arms and rocking you against his chest. Then he walked over to the recliner in the living room and sat down with you.

He let you cry it out while showering you with love and affection and beautiful sweet words in his warm honeyed voice. Finally once you’d calmed down he tilted your chin up to face him. Giving you a slow sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that was almost sticky, your lips wanting to stay connected for as long as possible.

“Are you okay sweetheart? Do you need anything?” He whispered against your lips in a pleading tone.

“No.” You shook your head, still taking shaky short gasping breaths. “M’so sorry Ani.”

“Oh baby. No, it’s okay.” He cooed. “You didn’t know. That’s why I had to teach you huh?”

“Uh huh.” You sniffled.

“You understand now don’t you doll? No body could ever love you like I do.” He squeezed you tightly as you agreed.

“That was horrible wasn’t it?” He sighed. “Those other boys… oh princess it would be so much worse you know that?”

“I couldn’t be as mean to you as they could, not even half as bad.” He said softly as if the information were scary to even say outloud.

“R-really?” You squeaked, not even half as bad? You shivered at the thought that if could ever be worse than he’d shown you.

“Yes baby.” He nodded, a sad and solemn expression on his tear streaked face.

“Th-thank you Ani.” You sniffled. Feeling grateful that he wasn’t even capable of what must be such horrendous brutality.

“Oh sweetheart. Don’t thank me,” he whispered, petting your head. “Just hold me and I’ll hold you okay? We both need alittle extra snuggles tonight after that don’t we?”

Tag-List:

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@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

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penvisions · 6 months ago

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zest {a sequel series masterlist}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents.

But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.

Word Count: undetermined

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, c'mon reader and joel have potty mouths, protective joel, reader is canonically midsize, pregnant reader, surprise pregnancy, reader goes through nicotine withdrawal, smoking, cigarettes, nicotine use, cannabis, marijuana, cbd, edibles, pregnancy complications (not serious or life-threatening), lots of feelings, lots of emotions, complicated family dynamic, reader has family issues, reader has religious guilt, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, reader canonically has an eating disorder, therapy. much more to be added to each individual chapter!

A/N: THEY'RE BACK, BABY! our rough 'n tumble couple are back and better than ever. cannot wait to see where they take me on this sequel series journey that should be about the same amount of chapters as the original {garnish} one. i've been sitting on this idea since the lovely @tuquoquebrute came to be with a one-shot request for these two and they took over in the best way ♡♡

main series:

garnish {masterlist}

precursor to {zest}:

i wish i never met you

{zest} chapters:

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four || chapter five || chapter six chapter seven || chapter eight || chapter nine || chapter ten

-> navigation || masterlist

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 7 months ago

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V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

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a-little-revolution · 3 months ago

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Hello Elliot!

I'm making a comic and one of the characters is a little person, and her husband is not. I want to design their house in a way that will work for both of them, where they can both do everything they need.

Things I'm already planning:

Their home will be single story/one floor so there are no stairs.

An extra cabinet in the kitchen for more plates/bowls/etc. that she can access easily.

A separate area in the kitchen with lower countertops.

Lots of step stools/mini stairs with wheels that she can move around in order to access countertops.

Lots of reaching tools for things like light switches and door handles.

Her own closet/wardrobe that's built to her height.

A bathroom with a normal shower for her husband and one of those accessible walk in tubs for her (like the ones with the doors that swing open and seats for you to sit down).

A second bathroom sink area that's her height, along with towel bars and cabinets at her level.

Do you have any other suggestions, or links to resources or examples of homes that have been designed to be accessible for people with very different heights?

Thank you! <3

Hello! These are all wonderful! My family, friends, and now partner are all average height so my household accommodations have always kept that in mind. You've thought of nearly everything! Here's my additions:

A dual shower head (with possibly a bar and a seat) can also be an option in the bathroom rather than a separate bath

In my household we use the higher shelves for my partners' things or for stuff I don't use often/without him. For instance, the coffee can be up high since he's who makes it in the morning - along with extra appliance parts, his waffle maker, backup pantry items, etc.

Spatially, something else to consider for your Little partner is their pain needs. I for instance, have stations throughout the house (bathroom, bed side table, living room couch table) where I keep things like water, meds, stim toys, CBD, etc. Chronic/arthritic pain is common for little people, and there will be evidence of that in their space.

Note that adaptations are often income-based. You've described my ideal living space! But with my financial and living situation (on ODSP and renting), making permanent adjustments to my home is not feasible. My personal counter was made from scrap wood by a friend of mine. Most of my stools were gifts from my mother. Very little of my house is actually adjusted, just worked around - and this is the reality for lots of disabled folk. Of course this may not be the case for your character! Just keep in mind that classism touches everything!

I love what you've included! What a lovely interabled household!

-Elliot (they/them)

#asks #accessibility #dwarfism #dwarfism in writing #writing disabled characters

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leveloneandup · 1 year ago

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christenpress I made a commitment to travel to Africa to visit Grassroot soccer programs every 4 years because I hope that my presence and words can remind the coaches and participants that their work matters. And that people from across the globe are invested in the betterment of their lives, wellbeing, and health. And at the same time, these experiences give me a precious gift in the form of perspective: how the most important forces of life: joy, kindness, love are not bound by socio-economic status or achievement. They are your birth right, and often are felt while moving your body in sport or in dance, celebrating someone else, and in a sense of community belonging. Nobody understands that better than the beautiful people we got to spend the last 3 days with in Zambia.

Day 1- our first intervention was at a health facility in Lusaka. The program provides mental health resources for adolescents ages 10-18 living with HIV. Through play based learning and discussion, our coach helped us work through how to deal with increasing pressures to participate in risky behaviors.

christenpress Our second intervention was truly something special to witness. GRS is helping coaches get trained as Community Based Distributors that provide family planning services to their neighbors in need. With stigma around contraceptives and being sexually active, adolescents might be more comfortable going to someone they trust for these resources and tools. We saw a CBD open her home to young people from her community to provide them contraception. Not only does this increase use and ease of access, but also we witnessed how proud and impactful it can be to be a leader within the community working toward a better future.

christenpress For our last day and final intervention, ~40 GRS coaches from Lusaka came together to spend time with Tobin and me. We learned about the incredible work coaches are doing and participated in 4 different programs …and countless songs and dances. The GRS coaches are a big part of the magic of this organization. Change happens when you give young people (coaches are 18-24) from within these very communities the opportunity, resources and tools they need to uplift their communities themselves. They bring such joy, pride, and energy to each of the lessons- as they work toward a better future for themselves and their participants.

#christen press #tobin heath #grassroot soccer #zambia trip 2023

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hippopotamusdreamer · 4 days ago

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Witch's Son

genre. [PS][F][AU]

warnings. None?

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, not proofread lol

pairing. Felix x Reader

w.c. 1,043

a/n. This is for Fall Cryptid season!

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Fall Cryptid List

He was always handsome in your opinion, the witch’s son. Others in the community would even agree with you. Hair and personality of the sun and face filled with stars. A man unlike any other even if you never knew his name. Occasionally, he would be seen foraging in the forest for his mother. Ingredients for her many potions and elixirs no doubt.

You’d catch a glimpse of him every now and then when he was on his way to the forest’s edge. The route he took just so happened to be past your bakery. As you would set up whatever treat of the day on display, you’d see the familiar head of blonde walking past the front window.

Your shop was pretty well known in the area. Along with regular treats, you also offered food with minor…tweaks. You were only 1/3 of a witch yourself from your father’s side. Unfortunately, there was a cap to how much magic a halfa (part magical creature, part human) could produce. But you weren’t complaining. You wouldn’t even know what to do with all that power should you have had it.

No, what you could do now was just enough in your opinion. Ever wanted to have a conversation with the family pet, try the strawberry acorn animal scone. Or how about easing the aches and pains of the daily grind with a Get Better Blondie? Perhaps even just blessing your breath with regular garlic butter dinner rolls to get rid of unwanted mothers-in-law’s? If you could think it, Leviathan’s Crest could bake it.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It was on a random Tuesday morning that you had realized a mistake.

Last week you were supposed to reorder ingredients for the next two weeks. Sadly, you’d been distracted by a wedding cake order for a gorgon party. A three tiered marble cake with a rock solid base. You had a fun time delivering the finished product; they even gave you a mini statue of the bride and bride as a wedding favor.

Regardless of the good time, you’d shirked your obligations and now present you was suffering for it. It was too late to order for the recipes now but you’d still need to order it for the next day. Your lavender lotus loaves were one of your hot ticket items and they needed to be made for the day. With your meager powers, each loaf was able to make the customer feel a serenity that’d put the CBD shoppe to shame. And not to brag or anything but they were fucking delicious.

It was as you were about to run out of your shop to Kochi’s Bazaar, the germakochi owned spice bazaar that was home to the most pungent spices, Turkish delights, caviar, dried nuts, and more, that you ran into something, or rather, someone instead.

“Oh!” A deep voice yelled in surprise.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed.

There before you stood the man of your fantasies. You were absolutely gobsmacked. This man was absolutely STUNNING, with a capital STUN.

‘Daaaaamn, he looks better up close.’

“You alright?”

‘And an accent???’ Your internal monologue was just going haywire.

“Uh…yeah,” you said, trying to pull yourself together. “No yeah, I’m…I’m ok. Sorry for running into you.”

He smiled brightly at your flustered form, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s fine. No harm done.”

You both stood in front of your bakery waiting for the other to speak.

“You’re not closing up early are you? The day hasn’t even started,” He asked, finally breaking the silence while glancing from you to the bakery.

“Sort of? For now anyways.”

He gave you a questioning look that made you want to elaborate immediately.

“I ran out of one the key ingredients that I needed to make one of my specialty loaves. I was gonna head on over to Kochi’s to see if he had anything in stock.”

“Oh no! …I think I heard my mom saying that Kochi’s not here right now,” he said with an apologetic look.

“What!?” You hadn’t heard anything about Kochi leaving.

“Yeah! He, uh, went back to Turkey for a family emergency or…something.”

“Crap, what am I gonna do now?” you mumbled to yourself.

“You know, I was heading to the forest just now, I could see if I can find whatever it is you need.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly trouble you…”

You never got his name…

“Felix,” He answered with a crooked smile.

“Felix,” you repeated softly, his smile turning into a grin once again.

“It’s no trouble at all Y/N. Just tell me what you need.”

Is your brain short circuiting? Did he just check you out? No right?

“L-Lavender..?”

“Lavender?”

Clearing you throat, you nodded.

“Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. I know a spot that should have some, be back in an hour. Hope that’s ok.”

“Yeah that’s fine, I’ll prepare something else in the meantime. As a thank you, I’ll give you one of whatever you want and a drink of your choice for free.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said while walking away, grin still plastered on his face.

You stared after him for a few moments before realizing what you were doing. Face flushing in embarrassment, you ran inside your bakery to get started on a different treat to put out.

But it was when you were mixing in the some wolfsbane to a muffin mixture that you realized, you’d never given Felix your name before, so how did he…?

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Felix didn’t know if Kochi was really out of town or not as he walked down his usual path towards the forest. The route was actually out of the way from his mother’s place but he had his reasons for coming this way.

What he did know was that he finally got the chance to talk to the cute baker he’d been crushing on for the past who knows how long. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face even if he tried.

Something stirred in the air as he walked, and it wasn’t the magic that thrummed in his veins.

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

#hippocomposition #x reader #reader insert #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz felix #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids felix #felix yongbok #Hippo Cryptid #plus size reader imagine #plus size reader

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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 1 month ago

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Jason Todd Headcannons

-----------------------------

This is my first time writing for DC, so please be nice☹️

Genre: Fluff, maybe some smut

Also!!! My requests are always open if you have a specific blurb, oneshot, series, or hc set that youre interested in!!

Without further adue, lets crack into some of my hcs for our little demon spawn

-----------------------------

Mf runs hot. Very hot. Like im talking human furnace hot. Jason is the type to be absolutely suffocating you with his body heat alone, nevermind his weight added to the mix.

Speaking of: Jason absolutely smothers you while he sleeps. Not that he means to, of course: it just kinda happens. Like you'll fall asleep laying on his chest and wake up in the middle of the night to him holding you in a bear hug with no signs of letting go.

I think that if his white patch were ever to grow back in normally, he'd just start bleaching it anyway. He thinks it adds to the whole 'badass redhood' persona.

HATESSS using alarms in the morning. He thinks they're the most annoying bullshit ever. He'll get up whenever he damn wants.

Definitely disconnects his phone from his helmet on patrols (bc I imagine he'd have almost like a Bluetooth audio setup) just so he doesn't have to deal with the rest of the Batfamily on his ass. Like no, Dick, whatever you need help with can wait until I feel like helping.

He absolutely hates people looking at his autopsy scar. He thinks its just their way of taunting or mocking him non-verbally.

100% suffers from chronic pain. I mean, what else would he be cursed with after being resurrected? On that note, however, he literally just tries to ignore it (and fails) or ends up using CBD lotion or something of the sorts. Im kinda picturing some lower back and hip pain that he'd deal with.

He's constantly passive aggressive. Its just in his nature. Buttt if you know him well enough, you'll be able to tell when he's genuinely trying to be nice. Or at least less of an ass than normal.

He tries to show up to holidays and stuff with the rest of the family, he really does. But sometimes it's just too much for him. Whether its one of his worse days with his chronic pain or if its just out of not wanting to start an argument (probably with Bruce,) he does try. Even if most of the Christmas dinners or birthday parties do end up with him leaving with some kind of grudge, the effort is there.

#jasontodd #jason #todd #batman #batfam #batfamily #redhood #red hood #bat family #robin #DC #headcannons

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afreakingdork · 6 months ago

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Weak Spot - Chapter 68

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Well looks like someone is having fun in this week’s chapter art by @aimike17

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

It feels like a hundred years ago but credit where credit is due @hijinxensues They are all the genius behind the hilarity of the dick and nip nop actions you will see below. It's so wild to think about how much time has passed since we talked about it to now. Also apropos the author of The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma would be such an inspiration for this chapter! Please note that The CBD is on indefinite hiatus!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: slit, labia minora, uterus, oviduct, egg laying terminology, egg stuff, some forceable entry, and pregnancy mentions

You knew on paper that planning a wedding was a nightmare. You had friends and family who had gotten hitched over the years, but you had been just removed enough. You hadn’t felt the effects of the stress and instead saw glimpses of breakdowns. It seemed a miserable affair for what was touted as the supposedly happiest day of one’s life.

It might have put you off had you not had your mate.

Donatello was a ferocious beast when it came to planning. Not just from his years of strife, but his mind itself demanded that everything have a place. It left you able to bask in the fanfare of getting engaged, while he went about dark bidding. While you giggled and showed off your band, he was often busy. It left you free to schmooze with offered lunches and infectious catch-ups.

You weren’t coy in talking about your mystic ring, whether you were believed or not. The aura you had felt coming off of it was the very life essence of your betrothed. A yokai custom that had somehow come over from the humans they despised, it basically went that with this ring you were promised to one another. A drop of blood had been devoured by the band and in doing so it became tied to Donnie. The ring was then passed off in representation of a bond and would be made complete when the opposite ring was similarly prepared and the two were pressed together.

It would link the wearers and extend their connection beyond the physical object. Not quite a spell and yet another thing Donnie despised about mysticism, he saw the merit. You’d be able to know each other were alive and well no matter your distance without a second thought. You’d have an inherent sense of where the other was even if you were separated. Wellbeing could be checked with a blink of an eye. It was all advantages, but you could only think of one thing.

He had finally found a way around your moratorium against trackers.

You’d joked about it as such and it had momentarily struck Donnie completely crestfallen. You immediately walked back your comment with apologies as such a trick had clearly not occurred to him. It was too late to diffuse his particular band and until it was matched with another, the reversal ritual could not be completed. He’d almost called the whole thing off until you got through to him, by simply taking his face and catching his eye.

He melted for you and you told him his reaction was proof enough of his change.

You reminded him you originally barred him from it due to his obsessive use.

You never felt controlled by him.

If you ever were, it was always done in a playful way and stopped if you even mentioned a line.

You loved him.

You could also feel him whenever you wanted now. He was wrapped around your finger in a literal sense. Not intrusive, but a reassurance, he hung back when you were busy. The moment you even sort of thought of him, often as it was, your ring resonated warmth. It was his very presence close to you and you’d spent a few nights after the proposal just holding your own hand. It echoed not a heartbeat, but his soul itself and with it his every emotion. When he was asleep it drifted like a lullaby and if anything difficult crossed his mind, you could now literally sense his struggle. An interesting evolution of the way you were already in tune with one another, you imagined it might be for better or worse, but that was also what you wholeheartedly promised him.

He was with you and you couldn’t wait until he could carry that same piece with him.

You were ready when around two weeks, you felt him both through your ring and his person when he suddenly lifted up out of a mountain of digital screens.

He turned to you with a wilted body before he reenergized simply because he willed it.

He then walked up to you and you were given three option screens.

Wedding date.

Wedding color scheme.

Wedding theme.

You moved carefully around each of them to lay a huge thankful kiss on Donnie’s lips.

He took it before collapsing into the couch and pulling you right back in front of the selection in the process.

“We start here.” Donnie coiled around you to further replenish his strength.

You settled against him. “You realize you don’t have to do all this.”

“That will be the last time you say that.” He butt his head against yours and you squeaked as he barely withheld the knock. “This is an opportunity. Perish the thought that I will do anything other than conquer this task.”

“Not a challenge.” You reminded him and cuddled close so he couldn’t headbutt you again.

He chuffed sharply. “No. It is a delight. One of my biggest projects to date and one purely of my own desire?” He churred from the thought alone.

You tackled him down into the cushions, but he staunchly righted you.

“Decide. You’ve had time. You must have been considering such.”

You pinched him lightly. “I have, but don’t be so pushy.”

“The question was one thing, you have agreed and must marry me.”

You gave him his patented look.

A grumble started in his throat but he squashed it. “I’m not clarifying entrapment.”

“Not this time? I can back out then?” You laid on your sarcasm obviously.

“No.” His beak rose. “If you try I will play my own card.”

“Is it a secret?”

His eyes shifted with thought before they landed on you. “You’ve seduced me, led me on.”

“Oh, so extra petty. You’re going for guilt” You leaned on him.

“For what you’ve done to me?” He cocked a brow.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t a distraction.

He must have known because he finally relented.

You both sank down against the couch and made out without particular heat. A mellow joining, you coupled until the presses tapered off. Curled up together, you sat and breathed one another in. Eyes open, you skimmed hands and tested how your prints matched to his. He not so covertly brushed your ring a few times and you knew he liked the obvious mark that told others you were spoken for. Pressing into the thick of his cheek, you came away and told him your hopes for the wedding.

You wanted it to represent you both.

You wanted a guest list of those most important.

You wanted this to be a celebration.

You wanted to share your love with your loved ones.

From there you both branched off discussing options. You spoke long time thoughts, things you’d seen work at other weddings, and options that you assumed weren’t possible. Donnie noted them all both mentally and in a running list in those dialog boxes he manifested. Colors were paired and shared in swatches and you narrowed it down to only a few groupings before you moved onto something else. Finally deciding there was no real need to rush and you were annoyingly at the mercy of venues only if you kept Donnie back from sabotaging another’s date, you picked a window about a year from now.

Donnie was ecstatic to make your usual anniversary, your truly official one.

You shook your head at his stubbornness. “How’s planning gonna go? I know your excited, but I don’t want you to do this all alone-”

“You are integral.” He spoke and with a flick of his hand, you watched a thousand question boxes appear.

You sank down in fear.

He chuckled and they burst into pixel dust. “We manage. They are already algorithmically sorted by importance, be it date or necessity. Everyday you will make less than a handful of key choices and preparations will continue, leaving neither of us overwhelmed.”

“That sounds… too easy?” You checked with him.

“I imagine there will be every inconvenience possible.” He met your eyes with excitement growing in his.

“You are too into projects.” You gave up with a grin.

“I’ve already seen a term: Bridezilla?”

You laughed. “Donniezilla!”

He growled into your ear and rolled you over so you were beneath him.

You wanted to say it got bad only because people kept asking. A topic of conversation that sprouted the moment the intrigue of your engagement wore off, it was either when and where or how miserable were the wedding preparations going. You’d give an ‘it’s going’ to placate the question asker, but in all actuality, you had been having fun. Donnie crushed irritating vendors with his villainous might and had a blast doing so. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had joined the foray and had only requested that he not be the flower boy. Donnie had given him a noise of disgust at the mere mention and told him curtly that he was to be the best man.

Your son had literally short circuited much to yours and Donnie’s concerns.

When he rebooted he was his usually rambunctious self and set off for his own research and planning. Knowing they were going to have an absolute disaster of a bachelor party was something you couldn’t wait to see. You imagined you would be doing so via news network coverage of an unknown entity terrorizing the city and requested tapes. They would go into the world’s funniest wedding album and you were otherwise left to your planning.

Coral took her own best person duties with a severity that rivaled S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s. You were going to have your own reel whether you liked it or not. She was strangely as adept as Donnie in planning, but in a different way. Her methods were nonsensical and her planning of a bridal shower started with something about hiring the right talent and everything else would fall into place. Such person was a psychic with a larger than life personality who had forecasted doom upon all those in relationships and paired up the rest. You had gotten to live in your own high school drama for an evening and it had been oddly hilarious even if Hypno had declared a nemesis of the psychic.

You only had to stop him from making her disappear in a variety of ways about six times.

Time continued to march on and things were being secured left and right. The venue was acquired as one of the first objectives and everything after that was filling it. You met with those ordained to marry you in interviews that had supposedly been for them, but had quickly turned into ones orchestrated by Donnie. Colors were picked and then every item for embellishment fit along them in a complementary or contrasting way. Digital builds of the rehearsal, the ceremony, and then reception all painted them stunning.

Donnie, true to his word, was not only happy, but appeared untroubled by all the intricacies of planning. He had some work at home, but had been trending toward the lab as of late. Something about the time of year for projects, you visited him for a few lunches only to be surprised by Spencer. Donnie’s Senior Demonstrations Advisor looked about as haggard as an actual bride in a collapsing chapel.

“You aren’t married?!”

You only glanced at Donnie.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the invite, I am going, but you have to understand! Donatello is being willfully ignorant of the fact that I vouched for his supposed matrimony to the government!” Spencer looked like he wanted to shake you in Donnie’s place.

You were now staring at your partner.

Donnie had a smile to his aura, but not on his face.

“It’s my neck on the line when they find out your pass has not actually been valid this whole time!!” Spencer looked a moment away from cracking.

You’d done your best damage control, but the man needed a vacation above all else. It was only later that evening that you questioned your betrothed about revealing the secret to which he’d been similarly blasé.

“Marriage invite rule of thumb is that one should invite overseers and closest colleagues. Spencer fits both descriptors to an extent.”

It had been a softening moment for your heart and you hugged Donnie. He never pushed you away, but he seemed put off by the source of the affection. Donnie had always spoken of Spencer’s utility to his business and he didn’t seem aware of the larger implications that he liked the man, no matter the capacity. As much as he put him off with his synthetic attitude, Spencer had helped with Genius Built’s continued success and Donnie only kept around those who were useful, with a single caveat: he had to be able to stand them.

Whenever Spencer finally reached that conclusion you imagined you were going to be cornered again, this time with near explosive tears of happiness.

Your fiancé’s section was always going to be a lean one and you couldn’t help, but notice he’d picked up texting. Something you yourself had been more as of late because you had reconnected with those in attendance, you had an idea who it was, but didn’t want to jinx it. The whole invitation matter had been discussed and the difficult attendees had been mentioned with surprisingly short interest.

Mikey was coming to the wedding.

He was undoubtedly your friend and while working out the initial guest list, Donnie had just assumed you’d be inviting him. The youngest Hamato’s name had been written right under Hypno’s, but speaking on it at large had been skipped when Donnie mentioned plus ones. Neither of you wanted to invite Warren and most of your time had been spent trying to decide whether or not it was worth it to put his name on an invitation.

Leo had been the bulk of the conversation. If you were celebrating what made the two of you whole, then it was an annoying admittance that Leo played a large role. One of a menace, he had inadvertently been the reason Donnie was finally honest with you about his past. Leo appeared as some harbinger for nearly every one of your relationship evolutions. His existence was an antagonistic one, but as it currently stood, it was hard to imagine he would bring more.

It was decided he’d probably be Mikey’s plus one and it was left at that.

That left two Hamato and Splinter was simply too raw a topic for Donnie. Your partner was in the mind enough to admit the old fool would probably enjoy seeing the marriage, but it was without asking that Donnie had tapered off there. You hugged him and told him that you would make a point to share the wedding video with the rat man after and with that Splinter was left off the guest list.

You then moved on to discussing the interpersonal relationships with your family. You could tell Donnie knew you were staring at him with intent as he’d ignored one, very large man from the notes, but his persistence in asking about your cousins made you relent. You offered the details of who should be sat where and, with that, your first pass of the guest list was created.

You hadn’t forgotten.

It was too poignant.

An omission that was painfully obvious.

Donnie was texting.

You said nothing about the vibrations that zipped throughout your apartment and in a certain way that reminded you of when you first had started texting Mikey. An unsaid testing of waters was a difficult one to name. For Donnie, it was more so and you respected his privacy. You knew he’d come to you when the time was right and this was something he needed to work out himself.

You felt his smile before you saw it.

It was a small bubbling that tingled in your finger with happy pops that differed greatly to the ones you earned.

You’d tucked a finger to brush your ring before looking over to your partner.

He sat with a form of affection on his face that said he’d been impressed.

He had a friend.

One that you didn’t supply.

You chewed your lip and when he took a deep breath out of the move, you were ready for him to address you before he actually did.

“I have a lunch appointment this coming Saturday.”

You meant to leave it.

You were going to let him have this.

The most you could offer was looking away from him.

You loved him so much.

“Tell Raph I said hi.”

Donnie made a little noise of surprise and you didn’t speak on it further.

It took several minutes, but he eventually approached to kiss you in thanks.

“I consider this our final test.” Donnie spoke from where he stood across from you in the bedroom.

You chewed on a giggle and nodded.

He took the air of levity and twitched his lips to keep them in a serious line. “With this we will clear up a final question.”

“Of course. We have to know.” You responded and your voice warbled with sarcasm.

“As you know these were graciously donated by Raphael last week, but I had been working on properly setting them.”

You bobbed. “Oh…! Things have been so crazy I didn’t even ask how the AIA was?”

Donnie tipped his head graciously. “The exhibition on the history and future of public spaces was fascinating.”

“How’d Kaleb and Raph get along?” You smiled at Donnie’s choice of groomsmen.

“Well. They each have lacking expertise in certain areas, but enough intrigue that it was a fruitful experience for all.”

You squirmed to stay in your spot.

Donnie gave you a sly grin. “Impatient, dearest?”

“We’re getting married in like two weeks, I’ve barely seen you in the last month, and when we do it’s all been catching up so…”

“Final preparations to attend to…” Donnie mused and cradled a chest in hand. “Both for the wedding and work as we will be out of the country soon.”

“We’re not going forever. Two weeks is nothing after what we’ve pulled. Your company basically runs itself and I’ve been back in my old position for months.”

“Don’t downplay your new job title.” Donnie teased.

“Same work, new name.” You stared back dryly.

“Which reminds me, was this considered a wedding gift as it is necessary for the honeymoon?” Donnie jostled the chest and finally stepped toward you. “I have an algorithm set to analyze guests for thank you notes and will need to adjust Raphael’s if so.”

“I think Raph gave this to us as a gift gift, not a wedding gift, but I’ll ask Mikey to double check.”

Donnie nodded his appreciation. “Without further ado.”

You flexed your fingers as if you had some great performance to execute before you tucked your digits to lift the box’s lid.

Within it there were two pieces of jewelry set on the plush purple interior.

One was a necklace with two bands that strung themselves to hold a green gemstone on prominent display while the other was a similarly designed arm cuff.

You removed the latter first and took your time applying it to Donnie’s bare bicep.

He watched you with sweetened affection before you released him. He then daintily took the necklace and set the box aside before approaching you. Lifting your head for him, he applied the necklace clasp and traced around to your front to make sure the neck;ace lay comfortably.

“Ready?” Donnie took his original position.

You had a full view of one another. “Ready.”

You both lifted your arms in time.

Yours to your neck and his to his arm. “Three.”

“Two.”

“One.” You both pressed your stones.

For a moment, your vision darkened as a tornado of mystic energy swirled around you. A whipping without wind, the cocoon then fell away and you found yourself looking down. There was a point of plastron jutting sharp from your chest and you reached up to touch what was undoubtedly a pectoral scute. “Donnie…!”

“Softshell.” Donnie spoke warmly.

“I am?!” Your gaze shot to his face and your jaw dropped.

Standing before you was the unmistakable human version of your fiancé. His same eyes evaluated you from above his familiar chiseled jaw. The bulk of his neck then dipped, gnarled with one type of scarring, before it perched upon shoulders that had one side marked with another from your mouth. It all topped his muscular torso. Just as you predicted, he was carved marble. From tight pectorals that gave way to beefy thighs, he was what you assumed people pictured when they thought of godly bodies.

Moving into him with awe, you reached up to skim his body, but paused to check with him. He nodded for you to go ahead and you saw a twinkling in his eye. Similarly moved, you brushed over the skin on his abdomen and trended toward his thick arms. His markings were absent, but the punctured skin from his experiments created paler starbursts of epidermis damage. You traced them lightly until you caught his five fingers hand. “You’re handsome.”

“More so?” He joked and made it obvious he was reaching up with his free appendage.

“Different kind.” You told him before making it obvious you were looking down the length of him. “I’m glad we both stripped beforehand.”

His cock poured from him in a soft and loose dangle.

You licked your lips and resisted touching it to instead come up and adjust the only thing still the same on his person, his cloaking brooch cuff. “What about me?”

“I haven’t seen past your species.”

“You haven’t looked?” You chuckled and sent your gaze to his face.

His hair fell loose and wild around his cheeks and it floated as he shook his head.

You reached up to cup his cheek and couldn’t help but miss the scaley catch of his skin. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He spoke in a rush and bent to kiss you.

You tried to judge what height was lost.

It seemed little based on his bend, but there was something between his legs that you thought was a few inches short.

His lips met yours and you were immediately struck by how you actually lacked the same. You had always considered his to be a pucker, but with your anatomy changed that wasn’t exactly the case. The sensation broke you both apart, where you saw the same confusion on Donnie’s features.

It came with a raise of his brows.

They were now caterpillars on his face.

You reached up and skimmed over them and your partner fully shivered away from you.

He had an arm up in defense before he smoothed out his forehead in a face smacking swipe.

He shook out and looked down at his hands.

Either muscle memory or something else had his index finger glued to his middle and his third stuck to his pinkie for a V-shape.

“Sweet, you okay…?” You stepped closer and reached up to cup his hands.

He held the pair away from you for a moment before he let his appendage fall into yours. “Startled.”

You nodded. “You’re safe. We can turn this off whenever.”

“This is a cosmetic change. I’m still me.”

“You are.”

“I can feel the hair follicles!”

“You have all kinds of hair now. Arm hair...” You moved a hand to skim one.

He shuddered again, but this time did not flee. “Should I be able to feel them!?”

You looked at him with a curious blink.

You knew you had lashes.

You could feel them.

They were also nothing like they were.

The distinct lack made blinking not feel as clear.

He gave a forced grunt.

The noise no longer came easily to him and wound the taut of his body.

He shuddered again and sent irritation down at you. “I understand the biology.”

“I know.”

“I know exactly how nerve fibers are laid out!”

“Donnie, I know.”

“I did not think that sensation would translate!”

You squeezed his hands. “Don.”

“Mysticism.” He knew the answer and spat it. “How infuriating.”

“Let’s take a break from you.” You tilted your head in a movement of learned cuteness. “Would that help?”

“Yes.” He agreed all too quickly.

“Where’s that mirror?” You knew exactly where it was, but spoke the statement so he’d know your intention as you took a step.

Your heel left the ground much later than the rest of your foot.

It, in fact, dragged and you stumbled slightly.

Your appendage moved wide and you spread your toes for extra grip.

You only had two in the front and tensed in an unsteady positioning.

Donnie’s arms came around you in a floating hold in case you fell. “Bigger steps.”

“Bigger feet.” You remarked and then tried walking again.

You could feel how you stomped as if you were wearing shoes that were too large.

It pained you with a sort of embarrassment as you moved over to the mirror.

A bald version of yourself greeted you.

You looked like a smaller version of Donnie.

Turning side to side and forgetting how strange your body felt, you saw how your plastron hugged your torso. It nipped your thighs as you moved and it felt as though you were wearing an enormous tactical vest. The front didn’t feel as different as the back, but a faint tiny row of spines marked the center of your carapace in a formidable row.

You reached an arm around to touch them.

You had a similar reach and flicked a finger in a bounce against a few of them to feel how sharp they were. “You should have these?”

“Longer, but yes.” He watched off to the side to keep from being in the mirror himself.

“Would these hurt me?” You looked at him. “Or, I guess you now?”

Donnie sneered lightly at his hand before he moved to touch your spines.

You shivered with the odd dulled, but clear feeling of them as he ran a weighted finger up.

A kiss came to the side of your head. “My skin remains unbroken.”

You shared the moment of pleasure before looking at yourself again. “I’m all green.”

You could feel Donnie weigh his earlier illogical statement about feeling his hair and kept his mouth shut.

You sent him a knowing look. “I don’t have those purple markings.”

It piqued his interest and you saw him search you.

“Actually… you don’t have them either.” You watched him halt before he looked at his own body for the first time.

Starting right at his bicep, he flexed and prodded the skin where they used to be. “Odd…”

“Why would softshells be purple anyway? I get like Leo’s marks and Mikey’s, but yours…?”

Donnie had a deep frown. “I am… unsure. They were an oddity I was forced to accept. Raphael has since mentioned that they glow when ninpo is in use.”

“Does Raph have marks?”

Donnie looked more frustrated. “No.”

“Weird…”

Donnie rolled his eyes.

“Mysticism.” You spoke for him.

He hummed and slid a hand over the flat of your plastron.

You leaned into his touch to get more of it. “It is dulled.”

He nodded and moved closer to trend further down.

Your upper mons was now covered by a literal plate.

It felt odd to feel how it pressed and moved against your body.

It was one with your skin, but something else entirely.

You imagined Donnie wanted to inspect further when he suddenly yelped.

You caught him stumbling away as your head moved faster than you thought possible. You got to see how he tried to catch himself on the heel that should have been on the back of his foot. There was nothing and his feet flew out from under him. You made it right to his side in another feat of heightened speed, but not fast enough to catch him before he fell on his ass for another screech.

“This flesh is so weak!!” He snarled.

“What happened?” You offered a hand.

He caught it and you were able to help him up with some ease.

Was he lighter or were you stronger?

“This!” He scoffed and threw gesturing hands to his crotch.

His dick hung an innocent pillar.

“It’s just… out!” Donnie griped and wiggled his hips so it flopped. “This is inane! A horrific biological function! A patent weakness!”

“Yeah, hitting guys in the dick is a whole disarming thing.”

Donnie’s nose scrunched. “Horrific!”

“What happened though?” You reached toward his member.

He turned away from you and stomped a few steps. “Your carapace!”

“My…?” You looked up from where you were now reaching to the empty air.

“There are faint spines around the edges. My length brushed such!”

“The edge?” You had to reach and feel the uneven texture. “Huh, I guess that would sting. Did it rub?”

“Yes!” He whipped back to you and his cock slapped his thigh. “Fuck!”

“That couldn’t have hurt!”

“But I can feel it!” Donnie huffed.

“It’s sensitive! It’s a dick!” You responded with an incredulous laugh.

“A sex organ should be inside!!” He seethed.

“Donnie!” You continued to titter. “We haven’t even gotten to the balls!”

“Testes!” He shouted a correction. “Now there is some biological precedent! The cooling of sperm to a suitable temperature! Otherwise their placement within the body would inhibit numbers!”

“They’re also more sensitive.” You approached him with open hands.

He didn’t flee. “I am not saying they should be outside, but at least there is a reason!”

You touched a hand to the center of his chest and made it obvious you were going to reach between his legs.

He was highly strung and fury oozed off of him and through your ring.

You puckered your mouth for a hush, but it came more as a breath of air as you needed to round your lack of lips more.

Donnie watched on, undeterred until you barely brushed his balls.

A sagging pair upon shriveled skin, the whole of him wound before he flailed away from you and toward the bed.

It caused you to stumble back where you had to admit that extension of your foot was great for catching yourself.

“I hate this!” He turned to you after he had a stable grip on the bed.

You could see his butt from his rotation and it didn’t look as remarkable as the rest of him.

You meant to muffle a chuckle, but what came out of the reverberation in your throat was a trill sound.

It stole all of Donnie’s attention.

You blinked and had a hand raised toward your throat. “That felt weird…”

“The structure of your larynx differs.”

You breathed in and out once before you tried to summon a mating call, but it came out as a stunted squeak.

Donnie bobbed with a single puff of laughter before he turned to sit.

You watched him have to squirm a few times to get used to the cheeks he was perched upon.

He visually walked through the steps to calm himself before he offered a hand.

You took it in a careful show and came up to him. “Let’s stop.”

He shook his head.

“You sure? I heard you. You hate this.”

“I hate the vulnerability.” He clarified. “I don’t dislike experimentation with you.”

You were careful of his legs as you moved to kiss him.

Once then twice, his hand then shifted to skim your arm. In a slow coaxing, he brought you closer and you moved to crawl up him with intense attention. Keeping as far from his cock as possible, he edged you both onto the bed until you were straddling his leg and kissing him down into the mattress. You felt a tickling in your throat even though your neck wasn’t caressed. A hand curled around your thigh and its fingers stretched to brush your tail when something shook your vision.

It rumbled inside your head and you broke away along with the sound.

Donnie had a smug smile on his lips.

“I churred.” You told him and smothered the smarmy look on his face with a kiss.

“I hoped you would.” He explained.

“I’m calm though… Why didn’t it happen before?”

“You’re not used to slipping into it. You think to conjure sound, the methodology is different.”

“Ah…” That made enough sense.

“May I examine your sex?”

He hadn’t even tried to sugar coat his clinical interest. “Buy me dinner or something first.”

He chuckled and pet your shell in a pleasurable way.

You gave a few churrs, but they wouldn’t flow easily out of you. “H-have to r-remember how to do this for you…”

“You taught me.” He spoke and moved to apply pressure to your side.

The connecting plates between your shell and scutes had different types of nerve endings and you ended up rolling right over off of him. Laying on your carapace, you tensed at the feeling of lying on your spines. They shifted easily under you, but their bend seemed connected to your skeleton itself. A nervous chirp squeaked off your lips and Donnie appeared overhead painted in concern.

“Does it ache? The carapace curvature can be eased with some pillows as a prop.”

“N-no… it’s just weird… It’s weird.”

“You’re okay.” Donnie spoke with a similar reassurance that you had.

Soothing digits brushed your arms until you could feel slack urge you.

Giving in, you meant to lay your head back, but your neck snapped too far from the height of your shell.

Donnie grabbed a pillow to tuck under you.

You made a stressed sound as you sank into the object.

Your partner moved in a worried way and nosed reassurances into your cheek.

It was an odd triangle compared to his beak.

You missed him, you thought then.

A bubbling thought, it appeared without pretense.

He was still him, but it was different.

He was different.

You were different.

You ached and the concern must have passed over your features.

“Are you alright?” He slid a kiss down to your choker in demonstration.

You didn’t confirm or deny and instead moved to garner more comfort from him.

He gave it by laying onto his side and allowing you space to curl into him.

You tucked against his chest and it felt oddly squishy as his arm came around as a protective bar. He continued to stroke your arms until worries slid from your jellified state. A few affectionate proto-chirps warbled warmly from you as you bumped and nuzzled against him. He took them all with a peppering of kisses and you lifted from him to look down. He followed your gaze and you made it obvious as you hiked your legs up to spread for him.

He didn’t take you up on your offer and returned to pouring on his affections.

He warmed you both outside and in through your ring.

You found his hand and tucked his fingers so he could feel the band.

“I don’t know what I yearn for more: having an official title of our bond or being able to feel what you are.”

“You noticed?” You nudged him.

“Notice how you hold it? Notice how you feel what I do and then turn your attentions to me?”

You felt a mating call expand your throat but it came out a shell of itself.

He did his best to mimic it. “I cannot wait.”

“Donnie…”

With a few more nudges he was placing kisses along your shoulder.

Your heart swelled. “We’ve been at this for a while. You’ve seen me. You’ve been touching me. Does that mean-?”

“I am propelled by your voice alone.”

You blinked wide at him.

He appeared to relent and concern creased his brow. “My sense of smell is dulled. The remaining leave little…”

You gripped his forearm.

He sighed deeply. “I do look, but you are not… you.” He gazed into your eyes. “You’re here, but you are not. You don’t feel the same. I don’t feel the same, but if ever you had lingering doubts on how I prefer you…”

You squeezed.

“As you are. I want you as you are.”

You kissed him.

He had latent concern, but soon melted into it. “The scientist in me wants to continue, but even logic urges me to hurry.”

“I’ve been ready.” You bumped your knee to his in a show that you had long presented.

“Probe you suddenly?” He scoffed.

You chuffed in a gruff noise that sounded like his.

“Never.” He spoke warmth into your ear. “I like that we’ve tackled this. You must know.”

“Me too.” You told him. “I miss you too.”

He moved over you and pushed his forehead hard into yours.

This time a mating call came easier. “We cleared it up, then. Our last question.”

“If there ever was one.” Donnie sat up.

You watched him.

It moved his will and you saw the tender underbelly of his affection. “I appreciate the reassurance.”

“You know I do too.” You grinned at him.

“You admitted yours.” He trended down your plastron with a feather-light finger and made it clear he was going south.

You squirmed in preparation. “We love each other.”

“We do…” On his knees, he was slow in taking your hips and pulling you.

Your spines tugged strangely as you were spun around. He set your lower shell against his thighs at first until the sensation had him lifting you back up. He then pulled a sheet up over his lap as a barrier before setting you back down. It left your legs dangling on either side of his body and he tipped his head to explore your slit.

You looked up at the canopy in preparation.

He ghosted your tail and it brought a wiggle to your hips.

He set you back on the bed and moved to lie on his belly. A whole ordeal with his cock in the way, he eventually settled on dragging you down the bed where he was bent over it. His hips against the mattress so only his torso was laying atop it, he was between your legs where he prodded lightly at where your sex was.

He laughed.

First a biting puff that tickled your thigh before he rose all the way up with it.

You scrambled onto your elbows and searched him with exploding embarrassment. “What? What is it!?”

He waved at you as he tried to calm himself. “You-you-!”

“Donatello!”

He cleared his throat hard. “Your body is as stubborn as you!”

“I don’t…?”

“You're barely wet.” His grin was all too wide.

You kicked him.

It connected with his abs and he grunted at the force.

“Shit, sorry!”

“No plastron…” He coughed out.

He shook his head and a slight pride appeared even through his wince.

You gave him a hopeless look.

He stood and continued to have puffs both to catch oxygen and latent giggles until he approached your side to kiss your head.

You pouted.

He opened the nightstand and got lube which he showed you before moving back into his original position.

“Jerk.” You grumbled.

“I appreciate your honesty.” He was all mirth.

“I could still be wet and it wouldn’t mean anything! It just happens!”

“True…” He ran his hands along the inside of your thighs.

The start of a moan caught you.

“But it didn’t…” He pressed a kiss into one before prodding your slit again. “How does it feel?”

He’d switched to a single hand and you wondered about the other as you sank into your pillow. “Pretty similar. The tail is more sensitive than the outer… lips, but it’s still a sensitive area.”

He hummed interest and scissored his fingers to part you.

It felt a little more exposing then the usual sensation and you told him so.

He took an obvious note before his other hand appeared with a warmed wet finger pressing your hole.

You gasped.

“There’s no obvious labia minora.”

“N-no …?”

He shook his head before he let his cheek lay against your leg. “No.”

You meant to ask more, but his finger tested your hole as if waiting for it to grant him entrance.

A similar but different erogenous sensation to what you were used to had you rolling your hips minutely in time with him.

When he finally sank a digit in, he allowed you one flexing adjustment before his body surged forward. Using his strength, he hoisted himself up and spun his entire arm around. The twist sent his digit up into you and with a curl you knew he was searching for your g-spot.

He pressed upwards against your body, but didn’t find it.

It felt good, but you had a clear enough mind to look down at him.

He had obvious irritation with a tinge of intrigue painting him.

“Don-nie?” You pushed your hips against his hand.

“Your anatomy is shifted.” He had the faintest complaint to his voice. “Mine too. I don’t have near the same reach.”

“Your fingers are super long.” You gave a faint moan as he probed straight down to his knuckle.

He gave a little growl that you thought might be his growing anger until you saw the type of heat on his face. “You know what this is?”

“W-what?” You felt trapped.

His other hand came up and he pressed his palm hard into your lower plastron. “There’s a chance your oviduct is hyper elongated…” He stopped suddenly and his expression felt like it scalded you. “I bet you have a magnum-isthmus junction! Fuck!”

“I don’t…!”

“Eggs!” His teeth audibly snapped. “You will now produce and hold eggs!”

“A-ah!” Your voice broke as he shoved another two fingers in suddenly.

“I want to breed you, fuck. Fuck!” He lowered so he could see your sex and you felt him tug. “You’d hold my clutch. How many eggs? Oh…!”

“Donnie! Wait!!” His other hand shoved a finger in and this time he obviously tried to wrench you open so he could see inside. “Ow!!”

In an instant he was up and away from you.

He nearly fell over with the same folly as earlier, but he remembered and threw his weight forward to keep from toppling.

You pulled your legs up to the safety of your body.

“I’m sorry.” He rounded the bed to your side. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! That was not-!!”

“Instinct?” You reached for him.

He pulled you right into his chest and his chin dropped onto your head. “Instinct. Feral instinct. I apologize. Y/N…!”

“It’s okay…” You hooked an arm around his. “You’re okay. It stung, but it wasn’t so bad.”

He panted around you.

You rubbed his arm and felt a bubble of interest.

Under the guise of leaning your head into him, you pushed him slightly.

It gave you a glimpse down his body where you saw his cock.

It hung a limp shape off of him.

You shook with the force of an amused chuff.

He shifted his hold to check you. “Y/N?”

You meant to quell him, but an awkward laugh leaked the moment you opened your mouth.

He dropped to his knees beside the bed to put himself at eye level and searched you.

“Your body is too honest.” You responded and felt some tears in your eyes.

He was gentle in moving up to wick them. “Y/N…”

“You’re not hard.” You told him. “What was your plan to breed me?”

“I’m not…?” The verbalization helped solidify the meaning and it was his turn to check his junk. “I’m not.”

You craned to peer over the bed. “Nope.”

“I don’t… know?” He sent confusion up at you.

“What was it like?” You curled your legs behind you to look over him.

He loosened a little and slumped against the mattress. “In all honesty, all I pictured was eggs lined up within you, seen via ultrasound.”

You cupped your hands over your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Your mate managed a glare.

“It’s just…” You swallowed more giggles. “Not the sex to make them, you pictured a sonogram?!”

He groaned loudly and buried his face into the bed.

You pet his head and tested his hair against your fingers.

He seemed to like it at first until you snagged him then he swatted at you until you were safely released before he rose up. “So asinine! I have no proof either. Even if we were to see if you had such an oviduct, it would be purely cosmetic! You don’t have any of the necessary genetics to create eggs!!”

“You got so caught up in the euphoria of pregnancy that you forgot everything else.”

He whined loud and stared up at you. “I truly apologize.”

“You’re fine.” You moved to kiss his head.

He searched blindly until he found your hand and held it.

You squeezed in turn.

It took several resting minutes before he surfaced. “Did you want to probe me?”

“I’m not sure you can handle it.”

He bobbed with agreeing amusement.

“There is one thing I want to touch.”

“Anything.” He rose up and looked a bit weary.

You coaxed him into your arms and pulled him onto the bed.

He came with a gangle of limbs, but eventually was laid out across your lap.

You ran curious and heavy fingers over his stomach so it wouldn’t tickle him.

He didn’t exactly seem to like the feeling, but he did appear to relax as it wasn’t a negative sensation.

Testing his belly button as it was a new and strange feature, you then moved upward towards his pecs.

Your goal in sight, you admitted to yourself just before reaching it that you were still a little bitter about what had occurred during his heat.

This would be a form of retribution, but not a painful one.

He had no idea what was coming when you bent forward to kiss his sternum.

He gave a bit of a dreamy sigh and what you imagined was the increased sensitivity and then in a flash you moved up and latched onto one of his nipples.

He squealed with the pitch of a pig and bucked you clean off.

With the force of his whole body, the bed bounced and the latent saliva you left behind must have chilled the bud because his hands shot up to wipe his chest off in a flurry.

Scraping his pecs and then covering himself up as if he were indecent, he sent horror in your direction. “Why!?!”

You tried to look innocent, but you were clearly staving off cackling. “Didn’t it feel good?”

“No! It felt weird!!” He shuddered straight into a gag. “Your tongue! I could feel exactly where your tongue went!”

“That’s how skin is…” You tucked your hands under your chin and craned your elbows to your legs to watch him with twinkling joy.

“You like that!” He spit it like a curse at your person.

“Feels good when you do it.”

He shivered again and had to flail his hands.

You watched on with a smile. “Cute.”

“Blech!” He stuck his tongue out at you. “I’ve had enough!”

“Changing back?”

“Yes!”

“I feel like there’s a ton of science you didn’t accomplish. You have two holes now, don’t you want to-?”

“No!!!” His face tipped unhinged. “No, thank you! You have been the only one to penetrate me and even that was done a single time. If it is difficult in my body, it is impossible in this!”

You laughed outright.

He came over and shoved an angry digit into the gem at your throat.

It wasn’t uncomfortable and barely offset your giggles as your vision disappeared momentarily.

When you returned, your mutant softshell mate was stewing in front of you.

“Donnie!” You spoke as if he was there anew and offered out your arms.

He glowered at them only in one sweep before he shot forward with need and scooped you up.

You wrapped around his head and he buried his beak right into your chest.

He gave a mating call loud and proud into your very ribs.

You kissed the top of his bald head. “Missed you.”

He pulled from you only long enough to reply, “Missed you. Welcome back, my heart.” He then pulled you straight into the sheets and placed as much of his big body onto yours to bask in your person.

💜NEXT💜

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