#weak spot sequel

[tmntxthings]

📢 OUR FAVS ARE BAAAAAACK!

the IT couple!! 🙌 calling all Weak Spot lovers 🥰 cannot be happier to continue this roller coaster ride with you my dearest dork 😚

Soft Spot - Chapter 1

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

And so it begin with chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I'm Using it

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

Also available on Ao3

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

You didn’t think once about how lovely the day would be as you finished dressing. You hadn’t checked the weather and you didn’t plan to. It felt like a given, as many things had since your honeymoon. Rain or shine, your days were fine. You had the love of your life, you had a menagerie of caring friends, you had health, and you had happiness.

What more could you ask?

In some ways, it felt like a far cry from before and in others it was a given. You were karmically due for some respite and the world provided. Maybe once in a while, things didn’t go your way, but they were mere flubs compared to the life ending threats you had once dealt with. Now your worst case scenario was forgetting an umbrella which your doting husband often circumvented by bringing you one anyway.

You adored the mutant.

He was just around the partition separating your bedroom and living room. You rounded it to him like fate. He clearly had a wherewithal you didn’t as he was already standing in position with one of your jackets pinched out and ready in his fingertips. He was your other half and as such covered such oversights. Moving over to him, you spun around in the process so you could slip one arm through the jacket. He helped you through the other sleeve and once you were cloaked in your outerwear you turned to him.

As his pair, you similarly made up for his oversights. That currently came in the form of soothing, which you did by reaching up to pet his cheek. Donnie came down in a churr and rumbled sweetly for you as you took the edge off of your outing. It would be busy out today, both for the weather and day of the week, but taking the time here to prepare him would soften the blow.

It was his form of protection and when he was fully saturated by it, he sent satisfaction through your wedding band.

He drifted from your fingers with a smile and turned to address the door. You patted yourself down for your necessary objects and Donnie flashed the lining of his coat to say he had done the same. You both lingered in a soft gaze because of it before you headed out. You fit perfectly side by side as you headed down the wall.

Donnie took only a slight step out of turn and, from it, you knew what kind of day this would be. It was one to be prolonged and he made the first maneuver by choosing to take the stairs. You hopped forward, a movement out of turn in hopes of startling him, but he’d long grown used to your idiosyncrasies. He slowed only for your sake and you asked him to watch with your eyes as you bounced down the steps, making sure each got their time.

You hit the first landing with your hands outstretched and turned with the gouache of an Olympian. He feigned a clap and held up a paltry score that wasn’t just because of his missing fingers. You pretended to sulk only for a moment before you swept a hand in a challenge for him to do better. He graced your appendage with a glance before he dipped the smallest amount and soared through the air. With perfect grace, he landed at the next landing and looked back to await his score.

You gave him two goose eggs and his brow dropped with protest. You waved him off, demonstrating each of your steps with the tapping of a ballet dancer and how avoiding the stairs had negated his performance. He scoffed a silent air and just as you were lulled into a false sense of security with his supposed irritation, he hooked your waist.

You trilled happily as he twirled you while offsetting the force. It became a waltz, taken around a stair railing and then down the steps. Your nerves edged your vision, never quite catching your mind as Donnie’s steps were sure ones. He made sure you both took each platform and didn’t stop on the next landing. He followed through, only changing the dance to a faster one and lifting you in the process. You sashayed all the way down to the ground floor where you laughed and held each other.

It came with an eager kiss necessary to offset your bubbling hearts.

You then pulled him, finding his hand, and took him out the building. Onto the road, the light chill in the almost autumn air made you glad for your coat. You squeezed his hand in appreciation and he returned the sentiment as you melded with the pedestrians. They walked around you, setting speed which you both matched as you’d grown up here. In different, but similar enough ways, you knew the flow and wound down to a crosswalk.

A bold man didn’t stop for the light and ran directly into traffic as he thought himself better than it. Cars honked in protest and screeched to a halt. You rolled your eyes at the folly and lingered with the more reasonable pedestrians that valued their lives. A cabbie got out of one stopped car to instigate a fight and the further stop to traffic elicited more honks. It was just another day you thought, until Donnie ripped his hand from yours.

You saw a swoop of motion that you had only learned to catch because of your super-powered mate. His jacket swirled a seemingly threatening black mass as he dropped down low. Fog of him crawled along the ground where a toddler took shape. A mother screamed behind you and the full picture of what was happening took form.

Another car, tired of the cabbie’s pause, had peeled out through a dip in oncoming traffic to get free. A small child had slipped from his mother’s grasp while she watched the makings of a fist fight. The kid was too young to fully understand why he was waiting if the cars had seemingly stopped. He went to cross dutifully and your husband had flown into action to save him.

Time restarted and with it Donnie rounded back to you. He put his carapace toward the road and wrapped up safely to his chest was the happily squealing child. The small one clapped at the apparent play time and the mother shoved you out of the way. You didn’t fault her in a stumble, but Donnie clearly did. He had choice words ready for the woman, but she only reached out for her child with sobbing eyes.

It unnerved your mate who slowly unfurled to offer back the kid.

She pelted him with endless gratitude and clung to her child while admonishing those who threatened him. The kid looked around with wide eyes at whatever was occurring and reached back for Donnie. Your husband looked close to accepting a tiny fist bump, but the driver of the car that had almost hit the kid flew out with a smack of his door.

He shouted if everyone was alright and the mother reared rage on him. As if they smelt chummed waters, the jaywalker and cabbie both entered the foray for their two cents. Everyone was soon faulted and screamed and your poor mate was struggling amongst it all. He stood a pillar on edge from the grating voices and the signal finally turned. A few people who cared little moved and you caught Donnie to sneak away with them. Only the mother noticed, yelling out final thank yous as you continued down the street.

It took a few blocks for Donnie to signal that he had calmed by sending it through your bond. You responded with a contrasting calm to how you felt and immediately steered him into a building. He came with confusion and once you had him barely shielded by some stonework, you hugged into him and let your pride wash over him. He was struck by both feelings, probably a little overwhelming considering, but relented soon enough to hold you back.

He had settled for closed eyes and stroking your spine when you finally lifted your head. He cracked his lids to smile down at you and you leaned up for a quick peck in public. He allowed the brushing of lips once before he straightened his posture. You gave him space and this time he led you to your destination, the park.

You walked there, strolling through the walkways and pointing out leaves that had just started their transformation for the new season. They were few and far between, but some of the green was marbled with the warmer hue change and Donnie collected an especially swirled one for you to admire. You kept it close and he told you about the biological mechanism when an instrument played.

You both located the busker who had attracted a small crowd and the music perfectly back dropped the weather. Your head faintly rolled in tune with the beat and Donnie leaned against your side as a way to translate he was similarly content. The song came to an end and cash was tossed at a case. You bumped your mate to say one ballad was enough, but you noticed his head was trained off to the side. It took a bit of leaning on your part, but you found him locked in a staring battle with another toddler.

You smiled at the baby’s gawking and rounded Donnie enough to see his face. He was the picture of confusion with pinched brows and a hardened gaze. You tapped him lightly to get his attention and he had to double take before he sent bewilderment down to you. You took him in with a smile and a comment about how that was what babies did.

He didn’t seem to believe you and glanced back at where the kid had yet to look away. You knew he would need a demonstration so you held up your hand and cooed with a wave. The toddler immediately shifted his gaze to you and his mouth opened for not quite a smile, but acknowledgement of the tone that it knew was just for them. You continued to beckon with your fingers and added a hello which prompted the father holding them. The man bounced the child and asked them to return the greeting. The child looked back at his parent once as if to check before sending a happy squeak at you.

You giggled and felt Donnie’s gaze fly between you. You then looked up at him and gave a nudge for him to try. His gaze waned with worry before he looked toward the child. The father turned his whole body to address Donnie and you mentally thanked that the man was mutant-friendly. Tucking closer to your mate, you helped him bring his arm up and urged him to wave. Donnie did so awkwardly and the child flapped its arms. The father cheered along and laughed off a thank you before he returned to watching the performance.

Donnie’s gaze plummeted and you checked in with him through your connection. He read a sort of forlorn and you turned up questions as to why. He shook his head and instead asked to continue along. You went with him and tried to stave off your questions. He appreciated it in a glance that said he was thinking of phrasing. You gave him space and people watched as you walked.

Trees cooled the walkways and the chill nipped relentlessly at your jacket. The concrete took on a similarly icy look with blue hues and you yearned for the pockets of sun you could see out near the open plot. You pointed Donnie to go along and he nodded for you to go ahead.

It took another short stretch, but you were greeted with a green lawn that was dotted with people. From picnics to yard games, there was only separation between groups for modesty's sake. Not wanting to intrude, you stood on the edge of the grass and lifted your head so the sun’s rays cascaded over your skin. The warmth poured over you and dripped down into your jacket.

It wasn’t until you were thoroughly toasted that you looked toward your partner. He was posed just as you were and was probably even warmer in his shades of black. He animated at your gaze, first chipping away at his statue to then crumble down with a wry gaze just for you.

You bumped him for the sake of it and he revealed his concerns. It had nothing to do with the child or the man, but instead his own inadequacies. You bombarded him with sympathy until he tucked an arm around you as if you were the one who needed consoling. He spoke to your better record of knowing how to deal with children. You remembered a certain incident that had also been in a park and asked him if this was tied to his lost childhood. He seemed hesitant to agree, but mentioned with a distant voice that he hoped the toddler would have more happy memories like that.

It was a sweet sentiment from what you considered the sweetest man and you told him just that. He spoke a scoff instead of giving one and pulled you close to him with tales of his beastly nature. You responded that even the most ferocious monsters had heirs and joked about movie children. Donnie got a kick out of how some were created and turned a foot out, ready to walk again.

You strolled anew, remembering what you could before you pulled out your phone. You let Donnie guide you as you located an article on such things and told him the more outlandish monster movie kids. He was tickled by your reciting and he moved you every so often to dodge a puddle of this or a dog walker not minding that. You thanked him, reading out the closing statement and were ready to put your phone away when some teens jogged by while talking about how something was this way.

You and Donnie shared an interested enough look before giving lazy pursuit. You lost the kids immediately, but your husband’s hearing was honed. He told you there was something about a pop-up shop and, after walking further down the path leading out of the park, he picked up talk of a food stall. It appeared soon after and trailed a long, winding line.

You headed independently toward the cart, just to get a look at what it was. With a colorful branding, it appeared to be slinging freshly cooked waffles with all sorts of topping. The cooked dough wafted your nose like a cartoon trance. You turned, trying not to float off and found your mate gone. You scanned the heads, knowing he was usually a foot taller than most of them and located him, smarmy, already in line.

You jogged over to him and just barely beat the next person so they couldn’t give you a nasty look. You asked Donnie how he knew and he simply said he didn’t. He explained that he got in line just in case and the worst case scenario was he would exit. You waved him down to kiss his cheek and he obliged with a little sass. You took it as a gratuitous act and bit the plump as punishment.

He rounded on you with a snap of his fangs then laughed with his pearly whites as you’d startled. You swatted at him playfully before asking him about yokai children. With their long life spans, you wondered how that fit into how they chose to have kids. It posed an interesting query to your husband and he was immediately piqued. He walked you through his thoughts and wasn’t quite sure.

It was like listening to research and he stumbled upon new hypotheses as he wove what he knew. It helped pass the time as the line moved at a snail’s pace. You figured waffles, especially fully sized ones being made to order, did take a relatively long time to cook. With many of the people in line having groups that meant each order was more than one and taking up space. The studious queue also spoke to worth so you figured you were in for quite the prize.

Donnie eventually ran out of what he could guess without proper data and conscripted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. Your son texted back at a lightning fast rate and Donnie read out the responses. It was like being on a three-way call and Donnie delineated your responses with a marker letter from your name. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. pulled data and then got into an argument about birth rates with Donnie for the sake of it. You chuckled fondly at the pair and leaned sideways in line to count about twenty people who were still in front of you.

You appraised them with a bit of a grimace and stepped back into place. Donnie huffed about something being outrageous and put his phone up. You asked if Shelly was in time out and Donnie said that was exactly right. You teased him about being the bad cop parent and Donnie rebuffed being compared to the police force. He complained, teetering on nagging, and the line only moved one space.

It wasn’t him.

It was your bladder.

You had been out for several hours yet and the sun had made quite the trip in the sky. You weren’t really annoyed with your husband, but impatience was wearing on you. You chose to look around him and he churned commentary to try to recapture your interest. You ignored him and located a coffee shop across the street. You supposed you could pay the toll with something to sip on and finally admitted to Donnie what was irking you.

He shook his head at you and urged you to go. You smiled at him, but still took a moment to mention what you were doing to the people in line. The guy behind you that you thought might have been mad only commiserated and wished he could do the same. You thanked him and, with one last check in with your mate, you left the queue and crossed the street.

It was a quick trip as the lights were in your favor. There was only one person at the counter and you kept your pacing in place to a minimum until you could order and ask to use the restroom. You got Donnie something non-sugared to go with his waffle and yourself whatever you liked. The employee took down your name and passed you a key. You jogged off with it and, when you returned, your drinks were already ready.

You took them and headed back for a bit of a lag in crossing. You eventually made it to the right side of the street and saw Donnie in a waiting pattern. He almost looked like an entity that was in stasis when you weren’t around and you slowed to appreciate how silly he was. In stark contrast to him, the mother that stood in front of him was suddenly tipped as her young son yanked her pant leg. She addressed him harshly and it pulled Donnie’s attention.

You watched as the kid yelled and pointed across the street to the coffee shop you had headed to and the mother shook her head in response. You wondered if he also needed to go and you had mistakenly set a bad precedent. Whatever the case, the kid would not stop complaining so the mother searched her stroller.

She bent over and dug, but couldn’t seem to find something and her kid was relentless. He kept yanking on her until she yelled so loud you could pick up her voice. Her son sniveled once at a similar volume before he broke out into a red-faced tantrum. She groaned long and went to wearily mind what was happening when a twin cry screamed out.

You were getting closer now and saw another much younger child in the stroller. She had words for her first son and bent again to grab the younger. She bounced the similarly crying baby on her hip and you could now hear the older one sobbing about how badly he needed to go. Guilt washed over you and you held your drinks tight.

You could always text Donnie to ditch the waffle situation, but the mother shouted a clear agreement that she would take him as if it was a punishment. The child immediately stopped sobbing to instead ask if she was serious and she agreed with an angry tone. She then shared words about how she was not losing her spot after waiting this long and turned her attention to Donnie with momentary malevolence pouring off of her.

In a flash, she shoved the weeping baby in her arms straight into Donnie in a way that made his arms come up to take it. She demanded that he watch her kid for a minute and said he would understand since he was a father himself. Donnie balked and said nothing you could hear in return and the mother didn’t wait a second. She only hoisted a large purse from the stroller before catching her other child’s hand and yanking him across the street.

You walked up in growing awe and found Donnie staring, bewildered, at the child now in his possession. From where the baby had started crying from his sibling, it now only leaked residual mucus as it stared up at its new caretaker. You approached slowly, trying not to startle either party as you inched towards Donnie’s side.

As soon as he saw you he tried to give you the baby before he realized you were holding two drinks. He looked upon them with horror before he jostled the child as if to say that this life was far more precious than what you had just purchased. You appraised him with a long once over before you told him that you agreed with the mother’s position.

Donnie vehemently disagreed, but you weren’t to be pressed. You held the drinks staunchly in your grip and it left Donnie helplessly looking at the child. The kid’s head lolled a little as they looked up and down the person holding them. You heard Donnie whisper what to do and you told him to adjust his support as he was currently holding the baby around the middle like a burger.

It meant he had to pull the child closer, something he was clearly afraid to do. You flicked a quick glance at the state of the line before setting your drinks down. Donnie again tried to pass you the child, but you dodged him. He griped about your stubbornness and you reminded him of his as you caught his arm. In a gentle correction, you got one of Donnie’s arms under the baby’s backside and another behind its back. The child settled against Donnie’s plastron and bopped him a few times as if to make sense of the hard surface.

Donnie watched on in what was rapidly growing into awe and you asked him if he’d ever been near a baby before. He said not one that he’d ever held and you told him to remember what you saw of the father do not too long ago. Donnie hesitated for a long moment and you scooped up your drinks as the line moved a step. You slid the stroller along and when you returned to Donnie’s side, you saw your mate try to rhythmically jostle the baby.

You told him they were soft, but not that delicate and counted out a tempo for him. He bounced the baby in time and the child flailed with interest in the rocking. Donnie puffed out a flighty breath at his success and sent you a watery look. Your heart slammed in your chest and for a blink, you could see him cradling a similar, but different green bundle.

He’d make a wonderful father, you thought right then.

The baby made noise and Donnie’s attention snapped away from you. He couldn’t manage a baby voice, but he asked the child in a hushed tone how they were doing. The baby babbled something back and was unable to keep its voice from pitching. Donnie seemed moved and asked if that was right which delighted the child. They gurgled a few more sounds before they sniffled once. Donnie patted its back and wondered aloud about the earlier crying. The baby had no more to say and hiccupped in response.

Your husband held the child a little closer and you thought about time.

How long you’d been together.

Everything you’d been through.

His past.

Your future.

Children.

It was a constant pillow talk conversation due to his kink. It was also something that rarely left the proverbial bedroom. You vaguely remembered he had once shared a dream of you with a stroller, though he didn’t seem to equate it with what was happening now. His attention was solely on the little one which seemed only like a positive sign. He learned so fast that you had no doubt that he would probably become a better caretaker than you.

Were you ready?

There was a lot to consider.

Life had been peaceful.

Were you ready to disrupt that?

A child would change everything.

The baby burbled sternly to Donnie and he agreed that its mom was taking a while.

The line moved again.

You adjusted the stroller again.

Donnie stepped forward and reached a free finger up to tap the baby. The baby seemed surprised by the green digit and batted at it. Donnie joked about its strength and hypothesized where it would go. From baseball to anything else, he mooned at the many options.

The possibilities were endless.

You wanted to tell Donnie you were ready right then.

You’d do it.

The long miserable nights.

The lack of sleep.

The rewarding excitement.

The nurturing bond.

You’d do it all.

The baby sniveled the bit of gunk on their face.

You’d do it with Donnie.

The child then sneezed with their whole being and snot coated your mate.

For one tense moment, Donnie was totally silent. He had a clear patch of mucus spattered across his cheek and shirt. He moved in a bit of a horrored haunt and leaned down a bit to try to wipe it off. The baby took up the new real estate and smacked directly into the sticky goo. Donnie looked like his soul left his body as the baby’s arm flailed away and with it strang up the snot. 

Your husband then slammed back to earth and pure revulsion painted him. He mouthed for you to help and you waffled with your cups. You were plotting out what to do when you heard the mother yell. You both turned and she didn’t appear mad and instead was just calling attention. 

She took one look at Donnie before she burst out laughing. She then continued to chuckle and say that was how it was as she dug straight into her stroller. The other child hobbled up and looked up at Donnie curiously. Donnie stared trapped between the two and the mother appeared with a baby wipe. She swapped with Donnie, the cloth for the kid, and he immediately tried to clean his face off.

You asked if you could use the cup holder in the mother’s stroller and she heartily told you to go ahead. You dropped the drinks there and then moved to help your mate. He watched on in retching misery as you did your best to clean him. The mother had another wipe ready and more words of gratitude. She then spoke highly on her keen senses and how she knew a good father when she saw one. She appraised your choice in partner as well, casually discarding the mutant thing as nothing to worry about when it came to bagging a good man.

You chuckled and she got the baby back into the stroller. The line moved again and again and you continued your conversation with the woman. Donnie animated after five or six people petered out and lobbed his own question about the snot. The mother laughed about how kids were gross and Donnie listened with rapt attention.

You were getting closer and closer to the front of the line and the woman had switched to showing you pictures on her phone. Donnie was appropriately interested and you only dodged her request to see photos of your son because the waffle purveyor called her turn. She parted from you, sending a final thanks, and the older boy tugged Donnie’s coat.

Donnie chuffed down at the kid who thanked him loudly for letting him poop.

Donnie responded with an equally serious response that these things happened.

The kid ate it up and nodded before turning to get his treat.

You told Donnie what an amazing job he did, but it barely permeated the glowing coat of arms that had been bestowed upon him. He’d been plied with literal and metaphorical praise and you had a feeling today would go down as a memorable one in his mind. When you got to the stand, he hardly could order and you did so for him.

You then found a planter to sit on nearby and ate in relative silence. Donnie sipped his drink and stared out at the view of the line and city bustling around it. He cradled his cup with both hands as if it were something precious and you felt how monumental everything was for him. You rested your head against his shoulder and he breathed nothing but relaxation.

You lingered long into twilight before heading home. You animated as you got closer, talking about dinner plans and what the evening held. Donnie was quiet in contrast, but his buoyant spirit came through your ring. You had nothing to worry about as you got back home. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. opened the door for you on contact and you were wrangling out of your coat as you entered.

You turned to ask Donnie a question, but he was tucked into the door as he closed it.

You tilted your head at him as you hung your coat.

You asked if he was okay and reached for him.

He spun around faster than you could track and caught both your hands.

Words tumbled out of you apologizing, but still you felt nothing but joy from your bond. It was actually teetering toward a scorch and you searched Donnie’s darkened face. His eyes were hooded and he seemed to see only you.

You pressed his well being.

He released the crushing grip on your wrist.

You kept your hands up in the air.

He moved forward, gliding into your space.

His beak neared your nose and darted off to the side.

You mumbled his name and felt your body twist in offering to him.

He took it appreciatively and gave you one last darkened glance before he kissed you.

Your ring finger lit on contact. 

It was then that you realized he’d been masking his intent.

His desire now boiled you alive both from the mysticism and from his kiss. He devoured your lips, moving in a dominating tandem that had you stumbling. He gave you no distance and matched every fumbling step you took. He then caught you, groping straight through your clothes to hit your weakest spots. He kneaded flesh and needed to be closer, but refused to remove the barrier.

It was as if there wasn’t enough time and you could only go pliable for him. He scorched pathways across your body. He turned you, his palms rough against the layers and rubbed you down as if there were no barrier at all. He then pushed, walking your feet forward, straight to the couch. There he caught your hip bones to bend you and your hands flew out.

As if his battle shell were engaged, he had more limbs then seemed possible and he led your elbows to catch the armrest. It was a preparation for him and you panted your willingness. He surely felt it, but you made a wiggle to kick him back and that he allowed. He got a front row seat then as you shifted your weight from one side to the other as you slid your feet apart.

He slammed himself against your back and, with lethal precision, his hand shoved straight down your pants. You groaned for him as he dipped into the musty trapped heat that had already cropped up there in the few pathetic minutes it had been since you started. This was how you reacted to him and he suddenly churred so deeply that it resonated into your core.

You could feel it on your tongue and he shoved his other hand up your throat to turn you to him. Then you tasted the sound as he filled both your upper and lower mouths. You moaned needy for him and, in a one handed shuffle where he refused to release your neck, he shimmied your pants down. With your spread they caught fast, but he refused to let you move. He only allowed them down enough that their hem dipped below your ass cheek.

His hand then disappeared and you heard his fly unzip. He squirmed again, rocking against your ass and pouring more of his weight on your spine. It tipped you to further present so by the time his pants were similarly barely down, his soaked cock emerged to slap your ass.

He whacked it once and twice to get into enough of a position before he slid the length long and blazing across your sex. He sat you on it, letting you encompass his heat with yours and you snapped your legs together, out of his hold, to engulf him. He rutted there, passing the mixing slicks until he growled to his own attention and used the hand on your throat to shove you forward.

You trilled excitement for him and he lined up in one expert pin pullback before he thrust straight and true. You would never get used to the filling brunt of him and each time was a delicious split. You whined your pleasure, but he shoved his fingers into your mouth to stop you. You had the wherewithal to suck and he gnashed his teeth for a wet snap. It was a noise that flickered a tiny amount of fear and he paired it with shoving the full length of his digit down your throat. You immediately choked on the distance and warnings compounded on your tongue before he languidly retracted his cock from you.

It was right when you thought you would gag that he adjusted his fingers to punch out your cheeks and slammed back into your cunt to set a brutal pace. You bit down on his fingers in a roll of your eyes and sort of registered how long it’d been since he was last this rough. There was something there, you thought, but you couldn’t parse out why while your womb was being compacted. The position sent him straight into your walls, but he kicked out further until you were perpendicular for him.

He chased you down there, unable to give up the animalistic rut and battered your ass with the bottom of his plastron. It cut what you assumed would be pretty red stripes now and purple bruise lines later. He tugged on your jaw so hard that drool dripped from the opening and cascaded down his arm. Bits of it dropped dark spots onto the couch and you drearily thought they were pretty.

His other hand had been acting as a safety belt suddenly moved enough so he could reach your joining. He pecked there, curious fingers that got caught in the plowing before he found your clit and gave it a similarly hard stroke. You squawked at the pain and he palmed you, picking up slick to try again without the agony. It thread the line of almost too much, but he seemed keen on getting you to orgasm as fast as possible.

You cried as he tried to tear it from you and you felt the noose wrap around his glans. The rope was pulled taut around the member to further trap him there. He snarled pleasure suddenly as if he forgot he had a mouth of his own and latched onto the side of your neck. His canines pricked you, but he didn’t commit to a full bite. Instead he sat there, locked on, and seemingly tasting every pound of your heartbeat.

His knot inflated in time and he couldn’t go for those long punishing strokes. He buried his cock instead, rolling his hips to make sure your pleasure index stayed high and you squeezed him tight to keep him in place. It was enough for him and he finally removed his hands from your mouth. You gasped immediately sucking greedily on oxygen and delirium like similar gas. It sent shockwaves down to your cunt where he rolled for his more learned stroking of your clit and you gave into a full body spasm as you came.

He couldn’t leave even that alone and chased you there too.

It came with a hydrant of cum that slammed into your reaches then flooded the space with as much of him as possible.

He whined a high pitched noise that stayed steady in the rhythmic release.

He then hunched, moving to grab your hips to make sure they were welded to his and seemingly gave up.

All of his body weight dropped on top of you and you had no hope of holding him up.

It took you both to your knees where his knot kept you locked beneath the bend of your bodies.

You were two animals joined and you weren’t going to be parted until you were good and fertilized.

“Please…”

His voice was so tiny that for a moment you didn’t register it as his own.

You groped uselessly at the floor and he only pulled you tighter to him.

It was like he feared the knot would let go even though it was firmly in place.

“Just once…” He pleaded.

You tried to make a noise, but your throat felt fucked out.

“Just let it take. Just this once… please…!” He begged whatever deity would listen before he collapsed onto his side.

You yelped as you went with him and you both panted there on the floor.

Side by side and in a gangle of limbs, you were the first to gain cohesion and did so with a dry chuckle.

He nosed your head affectionately before he seemed to remember what had occurred and shot up.

He’d been softening, but it pulled his cock from you and the leak poured a lava spill from your sex.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I… I know exactly what came over me, but I…” He fussed and his gaze flew over you, trying to figure out what to tend to first.

“Baby fever…” You continued to bob with bits of laughter. “Silly.”

He brushed your cheek and probed a question through your wedding band of what he needed to do.

You turned your head in time with him and found a jellied arm to reach.

He helped get your hand to his face and nuzzled it. “My heart, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded and dipped down to pick you up.

“Donnie.”

He hummed a response and cradled you close before hoisting you into his arms.

“Donatello.”

“Yes?” He carried you toward the bedroom.

“Let’s do it.”

“I am.” He didn’t stop on his trek.

“No.” You waited to respond until you passed the threshold.

He switched you to one arm and swept the bed smooth to set you down.

He then appraised how you hadn’t physically fought him as opposed to your language which dictated disagreement 

You felt him test your bond, curious, to see if you’d give anything away there.

You refused and smiled at him.

He watched for one second before he relented and knelt to listen to you.

You took his face and pretended to look him over.

He turned left and right for you before he returned with a softened twinkle in his eye that said even if he didn’t understand, he was happy to do whatever you wished.

You tucked your fingers behind the junction of his jaw and pulled him in.

He met you for a kiss and you allowed only one before you retreated enough to whisper against his lips.

“Let’s have a baby.”

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

Same as it ever was? My betas are still stuck with me after all this time @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[bunny-jpeg]

love is a kick to the stomach

max verstappen - sequel to: lust is a loaded hand gun

tags: smut/fluff, pregnancy & kids, falling in love, dad!max, body worship, tenderness, plot, cowgirl position

a/n: this was made possible by the support of over a dozen people asking for a sequel! i hope you enjoy it <3

"are you sure you're going to be fine on your own?" your former teammate charles asked as he helped you pack the last of your suitcases. your apartment in monaco was bare, and for good reason, you were going home.

you replied with a shrug, "i'll be fine. i mean if i could sustain a driving career for as long as i did. i can handle raising a baby." you rubbed your lower back a little bit.

charles said,"i guess so, you know, monaco isn't a terrible place to raise a child." he gestured to himself with raised eyebrows.

"as much as i'd love to." you said, "i think people will start to raise eyebrows when they see max's look-alike running around. plus, i guess it's a way to get away from it. something simpler for my kid."

you hadn't spoken to the father of your son, max didn't know you were pregnant. and it was the best for everyone if he never knew that you had a child with him.

you remember the first time you held nicolas in your arms, it took you close to ten hours for you to deliver him. you had to say, the aches and pains of racing were nothing compared to the rising anxiety and pain of delivering a child. didn't help he was stubborn like this father. you tried not to think about max too much during the moments of lessened pain. part of you wanted him there, while you were determined to raise your child alone. the moments of weakness you felt during delivery made you want to hastily unblock max's number and call him before the next contractions came.

"okay, okay. just you and me, baby, just you and me." you told yourself as you laid in the hospital bed with your belly swollen from the months of carrying your son. you hissed through your teeth as another contraction hit.

in the end, you had nicolas. or nico as you called him. tired, over-heated as you pushed out your baby. the nurse told you it was a boy. wrapped in a blanket as he was placed on your chest. you could only describe it as maternal warmth as you cried. this was your baby. your little nico. "congratulations." the nurse told you as you held onto him gently. when you gave birth to your son, max was in monaco streaming with the rest of the redline team. fully unaware that you just had his child.

you lived a quiet life after that, but sometimes you could still feel the rumble of the track in your soul. it pulled you in, there was no reason for it to come back. there was no way you could, nico needed his mother and you made the choice to start a family of your own.

"nico!" you giggled towards your toddler, nico was now close to three years old! you picked him up from his spot at the coffee table, surrounded by papers and markers. you gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "remember uncle charlie?" you swayed a little with the child in your arms.

the little boy nodded, "uh-huh." charles sent you and nico christmas presents every year. he even visited once or twice during summer break and spent a week with the two of you, he loved the time away from the hustle and bustle of racing. nico knew uncle charlie mostly because of leo, you had to teach him how to be gentle with the dog.

"well, he is inviting us somewhere. we're going to see him race, just like what mama used to do." it was the pre-season testing, it would be nice to see everyone. see how things changed in the three years since you left, "i know you've been asking about the cars." you smiled at the little boy.

nico really was the son of two racers, even now he was colouring pages of cars and he learned some of his colours from the cars in your neighbourhood. his expression light up, "the cars?"

you chuckled and said, "yes! we'll see the cars go really fast." it felt somewhat silly to say that raising a child felt more fulfilling than any of the titles you won.

it was almost more challenging with more rewards. driving was intense and lit an inferno in your stomach. but, you were constantly swarmed by the media with people yelling in your ear at all times. you were both hated and loved by the press, the organization and the fans. and while parenthood was harder in a lot of ways, it was nice. it was quieter. you saw friends, you found interest in painting, you read all the books you bought on your travels as a racer. the best part about having a kid was having a travel buddy. you weren't your stats or your trophies, you were just you.

but driving was a drug, and you also wanted to see the cars go very fast. so within a couple of weeks you were on the track for the pre-season.

"and that nico, is a racing car." you pointed towards the red ferrari car. a similar one to the one you drove. and you watched your young son light up the way you did all those years prior.

-

you knew you were going to see max. it was stupid to think that you could not see him. he had won the previous year's wdc, he was everywhere. so while you spoke to lewis and charles, you caught sight of him. and he caught sight of the toddler in your arms.

charles looked over to where your gaze was and said, "oh shit." then tried to shift over to sort of usher you and nico away from the gaze of max. but you reached out and touched your former teammates shoulder.

"it's fine..." you assured him. the past year, as it felt like nico was growing so much everyday. the feelings about max had resurfaced. while you believed that you and your network of friends and family could raise nico just fine. max didn't know that nico existed. a night of passion was just that in max's mind.

you shifted your toddler in your arms and looked over to max. you smiled and gave him a small wave. and you could see the expression cross max's face.

nico let go of the front of your shirt and made child's grabby-hands towards the man. and max took a bold step forward, and then another, and then another before he was crowded in your space. an expression across his face as he looked down at you and nico.

"hey." you said.

"hi." he replied. he raised his hand for a moment, but stopped himself. he swallowed and asked, "who is this?"

you looked down at the boy who was holding onto your shirt once more. you smiled at max, "nicolas. but everyone calls him nico. he's my son."

our son.

max swallowed and looked at the boy. he patted him on the top of the head and smiled, "well, hello nico. your mama was an amazing driver." he looked at you once more before you were pulled away by charles to see the rest of the ferrari team. max watched you walk away, just as he did all those years prior.

-

"can i watch nico?" charles asked while

"i can watch him just fine. i've been doing it for three years." you chuckled as you grabbed a chip from the bag and ate it.

charles crossed his arms and looked at you, "when was the last time you had a break? plus me and alexandra are thinking about, maybe, having a child once my career winds down." he smiled a little, "want to make sure that i can handle a three year old."

you looked to your son on the carpeted floor playing with the duplo blocks that you had brought with you. you then looked to charles and asked, "so you're probably assuming that if you can handle the son of me and him, you can handle your own child?"

charles nodded, "the child of ferrari's princess and mad max. must be a handful." he laughed a little.

"he's not the son of satan, charles." you playfully shoved your former teammate. and he shrugged. you were thankful in a way that you didn't go with charles' plan for him to father your child. you felt like that would've been more complicated than what you had now, since you liked charles' current partner.

"take the night off or at least a few hours. go do something for yourself." charles gave you a sympathetic glance. and you had no choice to concede.

he was right, since nico's birth you had no time for yourself unless he was asleep. but usually you fell asleep too. in the end you dressed nicely, in a pencil skirt and a white blouse. you had your purse on hand and told charles to text you if there were any issues. and you made nico promise you to be good. you kissed the boy's cheek before you headed out.

you ended up at a bar. it wasn't busy and you blended in with the other patrons. the press didn't bother you too much, you had been out of the spotlight for long that it was mostly making the public aware that you still existed and now you had a kid.

"well, well, well." a man's voice caught your attention. you looked up from your phone to see max by your table, "has ferrari's princess finally come back to her castle."

you swallowed, "hi, max."

"where's the little one?"

"with charles tonight."

max nodded, "i was going to make a joke about him being the father... but i know that's not true." he sat down across from you at the table. he rested his forearms on the table, his watch shined in the low light of the bar, "what happened?"

"nothing happened. i just retired."

"with my son... a son i knew nothing about." his voice was low, "why didn't you tell me? do you think so low of me i wouldn't have tried to help? you ran off back home and blocked me..." there was a look in his eyes.

"i didn't want to burden the world champion." you lied as you took a sip of your stiff drink. you felt tension in your shoulders as you took a sip. your heart rattled in your chest, "i didn't expect you to do anything. i didn't need you to."

max reached across the small table and took a hold of your wrist to bring your closer. then he locked his fingers with yours. he said, "maybe i wanted to... did you never think i wanted to be a father?"

you swallowed, "no." you assumed he didn't. not after everything, you heard enough of his father's berating in your karting career. the angry dutch words followed by insults in english so everyone knew what was being said. and that apprently only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. you thought max was a good fit because he would be so disinterested in being a parent. but as he looked at you, hand in yours. you realized you made a grave error. you said, "being a parent isn't easy."

max chuckled, "i know. i'm not stupid. i thought about that night we shared, it comes back to me. i've never wanted someone the way i wanted you. and to know you carried my child, it only pulls me in more."

you took another sip of your drink with your free hand and said, "and what are you going to do about it, verstappen?" you may be a mother now, but you were ferrari's princess, the temptress on wheels. you'd still go toe-to-toe with any man.

max simply smiled.

-

you ended up in max's hotel room. his hands on you like they were all those years ago. he touched you the way a lover would as the two of you passionately made out. you moaned against his lips and you held onto his strong shoulders.

"i thought about you every day of your retirement. i wanted to know what happened. i thought you were sick." he kissed along your neck, his hands at your waist.

"i mean, i did have quite the stomach bug. took ten hours to get him out." you moaned a little bit as his lips grazed over your pulse point. you could feel a surge of pleasure through you. you had been with anyone intimately since max. you didn't have time for dates let alone hook-ups.

"i should've been there. i would've been there in a heartbeat. you, me, nico... a family." he said as he looked to you once more and you toyed with the material of his shirt, "i always had a fondness for you. you let nothing stop you."

you smiled, "i always thought you wanted a model... not a driver."

he pressed his chest against yours and looked into your eyes, "maybe in another time. i wish i could've seen you pregnant." he swallowed as his hands touched your breasts.

you chuckled lowly, "someone wanted a milf?"

he shook his head as he pressed his forehead to yours, "no, no. i wanted to see your body change from what we made. the child we made together."

"but racing..."

he groaned, "fuck it. choose between another trophy taking up space in my apartment... or a home with you and nico. such a hard choice, don't you think?" he chuckled as he held you so close to him. he groped your breasts, "a man who finds more fulfillment in pieces of plastic and metal than having a home to go to is a stupid man."

you chuckled, "i guess i didn't want to be your wag either."

he shook his head, "i don't think you can be a wag if you played the sport. if you are worried about there being expectations placed on you, then don't worry. if you can't drive, then i'll drive twice as hard for us. any ten second gap i have will be twenty seconds, because i know you only expect the best."

you felt warmth in your cheeks. and eventually he led you to the bedroom. you ended up on the bed with max undoing your button up. you giggled, "ah, does someone like mothers?"

he groaned with his nose against your heated skin, "only when they had my kid... nico looked exactly like me." he said as he got the button up off your shoulder.

you moaned, but then yelped as he pushed you back onto the bed. you looked up at him, "i'm on birth control." you licked your lips as you got out of your bra and max took off his t-shirt, "fuck, now i remember why i wanted to have a baby with you."

he put his hands on his hips and smiled. tiny waist, broad shoulders. a certain strength to him, but he didn't look like a dehydrated mess. he was strong in a way that excited you, but you also knew that he loved a good meal. long before he gorged himself on your cunt, he happily ate the meals you cooked. you remember he even said, "you'd make a great wife." which honestly sowed the seed that led to nico.

the night of passion that led to the making of your son. you could feel max's eyes wander across your body and he licked his lips. he said, "you look good. bit more curves than when we last were like this."

"yeah, i had an eight pound baby." you chuckled as you got the rest of your clothes off. max's hungry gaze lingered, "i got a few more curves that a track as carry him for nine months, you know he was three days overdue."

"stubborn." max laughed as he unzipped his jeans, "just like his mama."

you narrowed your eyes, "no, just like his old man." and max was all over you. the kissed became hungry and needy. neither of you had been intimate with another person since the night you made nico. three years ago. you were busy with a baby while max couldn't get you out of his head. he tried to find another woman, he tried to be close to someone. but you always pulled in the back of his mind.

both of you were into the hotel room and max kissed at your breasts. your breasts were roughly average size before you got pregnant. the training and weight guidelines for racing prevented you from having a big chest. but you went up at least a cup and a half during your pregnancy. and max loved kissing the heated skin.

"fuck." you gasped. both naked on the bed, moved against one another. it was like being in a familiar place. you knew max's body just as you did all those years ago. you kissed him and ended up straddled max's waist.

he was up against the pillows and your knees on either side of him. your hands roamed his chest and he shuddered. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, "please, fuck. please, give me a chance. give me a chance to be there for you and nico.."

you swallowed, you never expected that from max. a man on the top like that wouldn't easily quiver at the aspect of being a father. but max wanted it. he wanted the family. he wanted a home. you sighed to yourself, you guessed an apartment full of trophies wasn't enough.

you put a hand on his chest before you sank on his cock, "max. if nico decided not to peruse racing.... would you still love him?" that was a conversation you had to have with yourself. you loved racing, that was your passion for years. but you promised yourself to never be the parent that you saw early in your career. twisting their children to make them conform to the parent's standards. to force them into racing.

he said, those blue eyes gazed up at you, "if nico wanted to race. i'm behind him a hundred percent. if it doesn't, nothing changes... he is still my son. i'm behind him through everything."

you leaned down to kiss max on the lips, "fuck, max." you sank down onto his cock and continued to kiss him. you splayed your hands across his broad chest and continued to move against him.

"shit." he shuddered. he felt a certain euphoria that left him needy for more. never had he had soemthing like this. not since the last time he had you. it was a amazing. to have you so close once more. he wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you. the kisses shared between you two were hot and heavy, it left him feeling tense in a good way. to have you on top of him, close to him was a feeling he wished he could never forget.

even after three years you still occupied his mind in ways that left him shuddering against you. after three years, after all this time, he still wanted to map your body with his tongue. even the changes post-pregnancy. he held onto you and kissed at your heated skin. he wished he was there, seeing the progress of you carrying nico. to be a father. he moved against you, he held you. he loved you, but he had been holding onto that love for some time. unable to properly display it, and to find out you had a child with him only fueled the passion for you. the two of you moved against one another, you both felt the intense pleasure from the heated movements against one another.

this was how you should've been a long time ago. if max had known you wanted a baby, he would've happily had one with you. but he should've been there for every moment of it. even if you couldn't race because of the pregnancy, max would kiss every winning trophy in your honor, he'd race for both of you. and then come to the paddock with you and nico, a family of three. a family he always wanted.

he wanted to kiss you in front of the cameras. even if you were retired, he wanted to make you feel that every winning was for both of you. he kissed at you heated skin and you moaned, he felt the warmth of love in his gut. you two should've been married by now, a house somewhere quiet. it didn't even have to be in monaco. max would happily pack up his racing sim gear and his cats, and move to anywhere you desired. he hoped that you two could be a family.

to come home after a triple header and see you and nico. the boy looked so much like him. those round cheeks, those wide eyes. the excitement on the track and his need to be close to his mother (you). it screamed a young max, but max wanted to be a better father. he wanted to be present, he wanted to be there for his son.

he groaned, "please, please. let me into your little family." he kissed as your larger breasts and moved against you. the pleasure was deep inside of him. to have you once more felt like a dream.

you held onto his short hair for a moment, you groaned a little bit as you felt the immense heat between you two. you leaned down and kissed him on the head with such tenderness. this wasn't the kind of sex you had all that time ago, this was something more softer. more gentle. less like a means to an end, and more like you two were becoming familiar with each other's bodies again.

"you look perfect," he said lowly, "i'm surprised you hadn't picked uo a husband after all the time." he held on a little tighter and worked your body against him. the pleasure shot through the both of you which only spurred you on the move faster.

your bucked your hips against his, you felt the inferno in your belly as you held his face and kissed him once more. if he wanted to be in nico's life then you'd allow it. you'd let max be involved, be the father he wanted to be. you thought his trophies were more important, but seeing him, his eagerness to be in nico's life made you realize that he wanted a family, a home. you kissed him once more as the two of you thrusted against one another.

you knew racing would always pull you back in eventually. it had that effect on people. it was infectious, even tucked away in your domestic life. you still sat on the couch with your rambunctious toddler and watched the races at odd hours.

"why do you want a life with me and nico, you could have any-"

"i don't want to hear it. nico deserves a father and you deserve a loving partner... hell, maybe even a husband." he said with total conviction as he moved against you. the pleasure felt like it was going to boil over soon.

you moved against him, eagerness in your movements. you couldn't think of anymore things to prevent max from being part of your family. your movements staggered and you felt the pleasure bloom into something more. you hissed, "fuck," while you moved against him. you felt the inferno in your soul, the need for him in ways you didn't need any other man.

this was the father of your son, and you carried feelings for him just as you carried nico. the combination of you two, the affection you had for one another in a brief moment. it was something you wanted to expand on. you wanted to love max verstappen.

you held onto the father of your child. you came around his cock and arched your back. you felt the fury of lust through your body as you moved against him. you laid a heavy kiss on his lips as your pussy clenched around his cock, "fuck." you said, words muffled by the kiss. max wrapped his strong arms around you and moved against you further. you felt his cock nudge against some of your softest areas and it made you toes curl through climax.

he groaned into the kiss and continued to move against you. a few more heavy strokes and he finished inside of you. he practically melted against you and you smiled against his lips with affection. his brain felt swamped with emotion as he said, "i love you."

and without thinking you replied, "i love you too, max." then kissed him once more with total affection for one another.

max swallowed as he held you as you slowed your pace to a stop. he craned his neck to press his cheek against your soft stomach, "don't leave again... please."

"max." you panted and combed your fingers through his hair. he held onto you tighter as if you were going to slip away.

he said, in a tone you never thought you could hear from a world champion, "don't.. don't leave." this was supposed to be simple. max was a means to a child, but he wanted to be in nico's life. he wanted to be a father.

you wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your abdomen. you exhaled deeply and said, "i don't want to pressure you into being a father... if you're going to be in his life, you're going all in. he needs stability."

max lifted his head to look at you. those blue eyes dazzled in the low light of his hotel room. he held onto you a little tighter, not enough to bruise however. he said, "i'm all in. you, me, and nico." like a promise.

maybe it was the post-orgasm hormones or maybe because you became a tad more in touch with your emotions after having a child. but when max said that, you cried.

-

"go nico! go, go!!!" you shouted as your nine year old sailed past the finish line in first place and you broke into a grin. your husband wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into a kiss. you laughed into the kiss and said to your husband, "oh man. ow, ow. okay, okay!" you looked down at your swollen middle, "someone isn't happy about the excitement."

"sorry there, little one." max's hand rubbed your swollen middle. his wedding band gleamed in the afternoon light. you were welcoming a son in four months and could already feel the commotion of racing.

you smiled at max for a moment before your son got out of the cart and you were moving as fast as you could to greet him. with his helmet off, you cupped your son's chubby cheeks. he was looking more like max every day, but smashed records the way you did.

you were soon a family of four. you didn't live in your home country and max had moved away from monaco when you got married. max was a good father, as he picked up nico with ease.

"you did amazing, nico. good job!" he beamed at the little boy and the boy beamed back at him. you knew that people shouldn't have children to heal a part of themselves. you learned that when you were pregnant the first time. but when max gave praise to your son, he was giving the young boy the support he never got. that if nico was going to eventually end up in formula one, it wasn't going to be the way that max was brought up.

he'd do it right.

stern when he needed to be. you'd both push nico to be the best, but also give him the love a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked boy needed. and as you leaned down as best as you could to kiss your son on the cheek. you felt like a family. it felt like home.

you were confident that you could've raised both nico and your future son by yourself. but it was an adventure you'd rather share with max. <3

[nvuy]

hijacked — boothill

summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.

notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh

HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.

warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?

“Hey, pretty thing.”

Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.

You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.

Did he know?

It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.

“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.

He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.

He just looked so out of place at the banquet.

He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.

“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.

His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.

No weak spots.

“N’aww. Shame.”

The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.

“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”

You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”

“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”

“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”

“Good. You know your worth.”

You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.

Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.

You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.

“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.

He winked. “Guess.”

You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”

“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”

Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.

“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.

He flashed his teeth in warning.

Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”

You stopped short.

He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.

You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.

He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.

Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.

You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.

“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”

“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”

You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.

The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.

The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.

You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.

Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.

You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.

You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.

Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.

He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.

Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.

“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”

You gritted your teeth.

You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.

Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.

You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.

You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.

“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.

You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.

Or…

Or what? What else could you do?

Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.

You then formed the worst idea of your life.

With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.

“Knew you’d come ��round.” He held out his hand expectantly.

You fished the USB from your bag.

Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.

He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.

There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.

The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.

You grinned. Gotcha.

When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.

When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.

All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.

It was missing just his head.

He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”

You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”

When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.

Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.

He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.

It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.

He should’ve seen this coming.

You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.

“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”

He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.

“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.

He was glaring at you.

“Did the IPC send you?”

After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”

“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”

You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.

“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”

Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.

You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.

You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.

You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.

You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.

Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.

“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.

You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”

He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.

He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.

Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.

You snapped the powder shut.

The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”

“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”

You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.

“You’d never hit me, would you?”

His face almost lit up with fury.

It was absolutely hilarious.

“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”

“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.

You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.

“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”

You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”

Begrudgingly, he did so.

You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.

“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”

You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.

“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”

Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.

You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.

As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.

He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.

He held it between his thumb and index finger.

There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.

Mission accomplished, he supposed.

He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.

He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.

You smelled like strawberry.

[ohimsummer]

...I CAN DO BETTER

— minors dni, jealous! satoru x virgin! reader, both of them came in their pants lol, dryhumping, consensual recording/photography, teasing because it's satoru gojo, degradation (use of slut), nipple play, biting/hickeys

sequel to “anything you can do…”

If there is one thing a Satoru Gojo will not allow, it is to be one-upped by Suguru, no matter what it was.

He had too much pride. It was so easy for Geto to bait him into a competition because Gojo would do anything if it meant being declared the winner. Shoko would warn him that his pride would be his downfall, and would land him in quite the unfavorable predicament if he kept it up. Judging from where he was now though, Satoru would beg to differ.

His smirk grows wider at your longing whine, pressing his bulge harder against the growing wet patch of your panties. He smoothes a hand over your bare thigh, pinches you out the blue and can’t help but giggle when you flinch and yelp. The camera app open on his phone, Gojo twists and turns the device to get the best angle of little ol’ you.

Satoru was, of course, quite unhappy at the dark spot on your neck. Because who did Suguru think he was marking you as if you belonged to him? And you, how dare you give Geto the privilege of seeing you so pathetic and desperate first? And, even worse, cumming on his thigh? Appalling. Sickening, even. Satoru’s headache got worse every time Suguru rubbed it in his face.

“She was so cute.”, he brags in a soft, nonchalant voice, dripping with delight. “Should’ve been there, Satoru, she came all over me.”

And Satoru doesn’t know that your display wasn’t as thrilling as Geto makes it out to be. You only came on his leg, fully clothed, but Geto can tell by the protruding veins along his friend’s forehead that Gojo assumes you were bent over the dresser and fucked silly. Unfortunately false, but where’s the fun in correcting him on that?

“S- Satoru–,” you whimper, fabric of your skirt bunched around your waist and between your fingers.” Please, please…”

Gojo steadily grinds into your core, and you think you might just fucking die. The firm tip of his dick rubs into your throbbing clit so nicely, though barely satiating the dull ache in your pussy. You clench around nothing, drunk and tense and so lost in such a simple pleasure as you messily rock your hips to meet his thrusts.

“So needy, sweetheart.” His mockery is relentless. “Actin’ like such a little slut. You always this desperate for some dick, baby, or is it just mine?”

The minute your head falls to one side and breaks his gaze, suddenly your cheeks are smushed between fingers and Gojo forces you to look at him again. “Answer me.”

A meek whisper trickles from your mouth, lips littered in indentations where you’ve sank your teeth into them. “Just yours…”

He lowers the phone a little and holds his hand up to his ear, then leans closer, all this while still massaging his stiff cock against your swollen clit. “A little louder, baby, so Suguru will hear.”

Before you can register his words, Gojo gives you a particularly sharp thrust that mashes his tip against your clit so perfectly and you can’t help crying out for him. “J-just yours, Satoru–!”

His free hand runs beneath your shirt, up to your bare breasts underneath, and Satoru carelessly thumbs a nipple beneath his finger. “Aww, Suguru will be so disappointed.”

There’s not a chance to protest, instead he’s mindlessly driving himself into your cunt again, low grunts and broken moans leaving him. Gojo props his phone up on your nightstand and, now that his other hand is free, begins leaving his touch all over your body. He looms over your weak, shivering form, mercilessly humping against you and eager to swallow the saccharine whines that escape your lips. Your legs, on either side of his waist, clench around him and it feels like your body has a mind of its own as you so desperately grind back against him.

“S-Sato-“, he lands another kiss on your lips, interrupting your plea. “Satoru..!”

It’s the way you’re so desperate and needy and so fucking endearing, no wonder Suguru couldn’t keep his hands off you. Gojo had to end this quick, too much longer and he’d be ripping these flimsy, cotton panties off (and they’re just so cute with a little blue bow in the center that’s calling for him) and having his way with you until Suguru’s name was completely erased from your mind, all on another video to add to his now-growing collection. But, he wouldn’t, not yet anyway. Not that he doesn’t want to, but really just out of bitterness because fuck Suguru for having his way with you and fuck you for letting him.

Before Satoru finishes up, he litters your neck in love bites; they’re spread across your collar, up your jaw, and especially over the previous mark Geto made as a big ‘fuck you’ to that man. And shit, why not, on your chest too. Signs of his possession all over your pretty tits, and the sight almost has him immediately cumming in his pants.

He realizes too late that you’ve gone silent, and looks up to see your head thrown back and bottom lip tucked right between your teeth. Your trembling form is enough to push Satoru closer to his own high, though in the back of his mind he refuses to believe that you deserve such a luxury after being naughty with Suguru.

Your little droplets of cum squirt onto his pants, and your release triggers his own before he can relish in knowing he got you to squirt for him and Suguru didn’t. Gojo dumps a hot load into his boxers, which in turn soaks all the way to the front of his trousers. Chest heaving, Satoru grabs his phone, ends the video, and again holds the device above your writhing figure. In all the excitement, he almost forgot what he was doing all this for.

“Up here, sweetheart.,” he sings at you, and he’s satisfied when your lids flutter open to look at the lens.

Satoru snaps a few pictures of your fucked-out form. Some with your soaked, cumstained pussy just cropped out the bottom, some exposing the marks on your tits, and even one where he uses your skirt to hide his cock, which he’s laid over your cunt. He didn’t actually do what the picture implies, but Gojo thinks the look on Suguru’s face when he assumes he fucked you senseless will be worth it. You certainly look the part, gasping and sweaty and quivering all from him just humping your little clit.

“Don’t you look perfect.”, Satoru grins as he taps around some more on his phone, and your eyes widen when he shows you the screen. “You make such a cute wallpaper, babe!”

[gentaro-kinniecom]

Jealous much?

Characters: Solivan Brugmansia/gn!reader

C/w: jealousy, friends to lovers troupe, reader helps Solivan with some bullies, Crowe and his feelings for the reader, Sol takes care of reader <3

A/n: I might make a sequel to this post cause..why not? I have at least 3 more works in progress of tkatb so stay tuned for more >:3. This was SUPPOSED to be more early but with graduation and my summer job its been hectic 😔 (not proofread)

Rain drops fell gently onto the surfaces that it could. The cloudy and cold atmosphere bringing back unwanted memories for me. It took me back to when I was a happy child running around the fields that my family owned. Why did fate had to be this way? I couldn't relish in the sad moment for long, my life had changed, some may think for the better, but in all honesty, I've lost myself in it.

The city life was not for the weak, especially in this society that judges you based on your backgrounds. Hallways and classrooms were empty as I walked by, meaning another day where I would stay behind until the sun rised up, studying in the library. It felt depressing, well, it was. Even with all my friends who share classes with me, I’ve never felt a sense of comfort around anymore. Upon arrival, I sighed gently while scanning my library card, heading towards my favorite spot and to hopefully meet him again: Solivan Brugmansia, the same man who I aided long ago.

Some bullies had cornered him, if it weren’t for me, he could’ve gotten bruised up badly(or so I thought). Sol’s strength was enough to not be messed around with yet, he was always careful with me. His long, black hair with green stripes was noticeable from afar, a smile subconsciously appeared across my features, walking towards him with my books in one arm and a cup of coffee in my hand.

“Hi” I spoke, my voice a mear whisper as he smiled, kissing my cheek while allowing me to sit beside him.

“Hey..thanks for the coffee, I saved your seat in hopes you’d be here” His gaze remained on the hoodie I wore, a purple-ish one with some designs around it, though I could tell something bothered him.

“Aw, that’s real sweet of you Sol..!” Taking the vacant seat by the window, Sol’s eyes returned to the book at hand, analyzing the text while taking a casual sip or two after some pages. I placed my books aside, taking out my computer and working on some last details for an upcoming presentation.

“Is that sweater you’re wearing someone else’s?” The question caught me off guard while Sol closed the book, his attention returning towards me as I continued to type away

“Crowe made me borrow it, he said it would get cold during the night, even if I insisted it was fine” A glint of jealousy made his eyes glimmer with a bit of rage, directed towards Crowe who had the audacity, in Sol’s words, to lend me something of his. After the small talk, we returned to our devices while Sol’s cup inched close to me. Which I thought nothing of it until the, now warm, liquid splashed against Crowe’s hoodie.

“Sol! Ah..what am I going to do now?” My eyes widened as the panic settled in. Pouted lips looking down at the mess that occurred while Sol spoke.

“I can wash it, and hand it over tomorrow..if you don’t mind?” The offer was tempting, and besides, the washing machine at my apartment had broken down. It was like an angel had been sent down from the heavens truly.

“Really? Well, if you’re offering..” With a smile, Sol helped me take the sweater off, folding it and placing it in his backpack. Was he really concerned or jealous by me wearing it? After an hour or so spent in the library, my sleepy eyes gazed over at Sol’s figure that had finished his book a few minutes prior 11:00pm.

His eyes turned to stare at me, as if, he knew I was staring beforehand. The library air making goosebumps arise on my skin as Sol noticed. A small warmth wrapped around my body, making me sigh while laying my hand down onto the table, resting for a bit as he smiled.

It was past noon when I woke up in a different place rather than the library. A soft, warm bed beneath me made contrast to the heavy rain pouring outside, making me groan and stretch my limbs, still remaining in the bed as the door suddenly opened. Solivan stood outside, entering shortly after while smiling, his body beside my own as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Mn, how did I get here?” Too tired to even acknowledge the strength he had to take me here, in his home, I was glad he did. The moment didn’t last long as I was now wide awake, staring up at the crimson eyes that gently creased while smiling

“You were tired and..we couldn’t stay at the library for too long, I hope you don’t mind” Room infused by Sol’s cologne made my heart flutter, it seemed he recently got out of the shower. Soft damp hair met my face as I buried it on the crook of his neck. Our actions were far too intimate to call this as “only friends”. Every reasonable thought left me as Sol wrapped an arm around my back, lips caressing my forehead and cheeks while smiling.

“It’s okay, you know I trust you Sol..” More rain could be heard from his room, creating a cozy and cold atmosphere around us. There was no one else I’d rather be with during these moments, so close yet…

“Are you hungry? I made some soup earlier..perfect for this weather, isn’t it?” I nodded, watching as he parted away from my body. Planting a kiss on my neck while walking towards the kitchen. The fresh and soft aroma of the miso soup he prepared made my stomach rumble with hunger

“You always make the best food Sol” Now reachinh the kitchen area, I sat by one of the bar stools, admiring the pink apron he wore. A bowl was later on placed in front of me, its contains making me smile as Sol spoke

“Mn? You really think so?” He asked, grabbing a bowl for himself. Standing in front of me while meeting my gaze, smiling as he enjoyed eating with me.

“Mhm! There’s no one else’s food that I’d enjoy then yours..” A hand was placed on my cheek, staring at Sol who leaned towards me, our lips meeting briefly as he smiled.

“Then..I wouldn’t mind cooking meals for you, my darling.” We shared another short but sweet kiss while smiling. Sol quickly went to wash the dishes, later returning to his bedroom, hand in hand. Warm touches graces my skin as Sol filled my embrace, kissing my face while sighing in peace.

Sequel (coming soon)

[kwanisms]

It’s the season of love, or lust. Here’s a collection of 14 separate tales to keep you company this Valentine’s season. demon/incubus!Idol × fem!Reader

» back || playlist || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT —  ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, shorter reader, reincarnated reader, chubby!Reader, smaller reader, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of: marriage, travel, homesickness, food & alcohol consumption, history of drug use, depression & thoughts of suicide, feelings of isolation, past love, heartbreak, major character death, reincarnation, severe depression, loneliness, minor character death, food & alcohol consumption, occultism, witchcraft, demonic summoning & rituals, PTSD, graveyards, ghost hunting, communicating with spirits, hospital environments, long working hours, bodily trauma, blood, gore; see each part for full warnings! ❑ CONTENT — angst, fluff, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationships, office setting, boss!Reader, coworkers to lovers, ER doctor!Reader, demon!Idols; non idol au, demon au, farm au, hospital au; see each part for full content lists! ❑ NOTES — happy valentine's, my loves! Here is something no one asked for but I'm delivering anyway! I've got 14 stories here, 11 of which are sequels to existing aus I've created and three new ones! They're all of my existing demon aus! From Seventeen to Stray Kids to Day6, all of my demon characters are being revisited here! Taglist is open and will close at the end of January so sign up now! Thanks for the support thus far babes and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

 ➥ incubus!Kihyun × fem!Reader summary: After the events of her story, Y/N has had her curse broken and succubus powers removed, allowing her to live a normal life. She has managed to keep a low profile, getting a job in a diner, her entire world is turned upside down when one of the men she was tasked with seducing in her previous life shows up at the diner late one night with a bone to pick with her. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 1

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 ➥ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader × Seonghwa summary: After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 2

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 ➥ incubus!Jisung × fem!Reader summary: Now that all his friends are seeming to settle down with their respective partners, Han decides to venture out on his own and explore a new city. While there, he meets someone who flips his world upside down and turns it inside out. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 3

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 ➥ demon!Jeonghan × fem!Reader summary: Jeonghan lost his chance at love by being stubborn and cruel. Since then, he’d been drifting through the world, finding no meaning at continuing his meaningless charade. He refused to return to Hell but being on Earth was even more torture. He thought about just ending everything when the world came to a halt upon spotting a familiar face on the streets of Paris. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 4

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 ➥ incubus!Johnny × fem!Reader summary: Y/N has been living her best life, having climbed the social ladder at work and now heads her department, thanks to the promotion she landed. She can’t forget the reason for her success and one night while at the office working late, the demon she made a deal with comes back to check in. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 5

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 ➥ demon!Mingi × fem!Reader summary: Summers spent in the country used to have a sense of nostalgia but now, as you helped clear out your aunt’s old farm house, it was just hot and all you did was sweat. When you come across an old, tattered black book, things go from hot to hotter when you are transported to an alternate dimension where you meet a mysterious man who inhabits your aunt’s house on what he calls the ‘Other Side.’  read now »» coming Feb 6

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 ➥ incubus!Sungjin × fem!Reader summary: Since the incident at the museum, involving the old grimoire, Y/N has kept a low profile and quit her job at the museum, instead getting a job at a bookstore in a quiet part of town. It’s been three years and she still has the book, keeping it locked in a glass case in her house. The demon has not appeared since but she can’t shake the uneasy feeling she has as the fifth year anniversary of the Summoning approaches. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 7

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 ➥ incubus!Yeonjun × fem!Reader summary: After a visit to the old graveyard with her friends, Y/N has had this uneasy feeling of being followed or watched. Maybe she’s being paranoid, or maybe it's the result of playing around with a Ouija board but one thing is certain; she keeps seeing someone or something watching her from the window in her bedroom. read now »» coming Feb 8

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 ➥ incubus!Jongho × fem!Reader summary: As a result of passing his seduction test, Jongho has become a full-fledged incubus. He’s now among the ranks of those who have made names for themselves. He finds that being an incubus comes with a great amount of freedom and responsibility. Responsibility he shirks because he can’t seem to stay away from the one who helped him pass his test: Y/N.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 9

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 ➥ demon!Seungmin × fem!Reader summary: Your idea of fun was playing video games with your friends or playing beer pong at a frat party. It did not include summoning a demon in the basement of the creepy, old abandoned house at the end of Willow Avenue.  read now »» coming Feb 10

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 ➥ demon!Chan × fem!Reader summary: Ever since she summoned him, Chan hasn’t been able to get Y/N out of his mind. He returns to her after some time and insists that she accept the proposal he made to her the last time he was there. He wants to be bound exclusively to her. Y/N is hesitant but Chan tells her to think it over while he makes his trip to visit her worth both their time. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 11

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 ➥ incubus!Chanyeol × fem!Reader summary: Since their encounter and Chanyeol’s nature as an incubus exposed, he and Y/N have had a secret relationship which tends to bring out the worst jealousy in both of them. They often sneak around the hospital, meeting in secret places.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 12

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 ➥ incubus!Hyunjin × fem!Reader × witch!Felix summary: After his visit, Hyunjin has moved into the house next door to Y/N and Felix, making himself at home as their neighbor and tormenting Felix by plaguing Y/N’s dreams. Hyunjin seems determined to make Felix’s life a living hell and drive a wedge between the witch and his girlfriend. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 13

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 ➥ incubus!Joshua × fem!Reader summary: Ever since that fateful night where Joshua revealed himself as a demon, Joshua and Y/N have built a life for themselves, living together in her house and working at the antique shop together. When Joshua decides to take her out for a romantic Valentine’s dinner, his jealous side emerges when he thinks the waiter is flirting with Y/N so he takes her home to remind her who she belongs to. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 14

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

[leclsrc]

team effort ✴︎ cl16, cs55

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), filthy, fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing. (sequel of sorts to this but can stand alone just fine)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… alright. a threesome, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (M receiving), handjob (F receiving), double penetration (crowd leaves), dirty talk (degradation), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal and positions apologies, spit kink (crowd leaves again)

probably the most requested thing i get, and i felt like practicing my pwp writing so—i hope you like it everyone! :) love auds

“Hey, you brought the pretty girl,” teases Carlos, a glass of alcohol in hand. He pushes it into Charles’ hand and you watch as your boyfriend takes a sip, vision semi-obstructed by how dark the place is. “Mind if I get a picture?”

“Course I did.” Charles smiles, and his left eye drops into a subtle wink. “And sure, she begged to come anyway.” His teammate laughs. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. Come say hi to the others.”

Your face turns hot when it registers what he’s just said, but it’s too late to get a quip in; a gentle hand at your waist is guiding you through the crowd of people, by the DJ booth, and into the seats just beside it populated by several familiar faces. You accept and return a few hellos and heeeys from Lando and Pierre, among others, and when a shot is offered to you by Danny, you take it.

Charles lets you wander around the area for a while to get used to the place, watches you laugh about something with Carmen and try your hand at the DJ table with Lando, combing your hair over to one side. You take a few shots because George feels like “letting loose” (he takes two). 

He sees a patch of concealer just below your collarbone; granted, it’d have been hidden if you were wearing something less low-cut than your dress right now, but he spots it and he immediately realizes what it is with an amused laugh.

When his eyes glide upward from your cleavage, he finds you’re already looking at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth tugged into a pretty smile. He sees you excuse yourself, walking right into his arms, pouting. He tips his glass over to your lips, pours some of his drink in.

“What’s the matter, baby? Wanna smoke?” He leans against the railing of the VIP area, seating himself there and pulling you close so you’re pressed up against him. You inhale his scent, his cologne, nip at his jaw. You always get so touchy when you’ve got some alcohol in you.

There’s a blunt or three being passed around, you smell it. “Nothing. I think ‘m getting a little tipsy, I don’t want to crossfade.” You blink and it’s like your eyelids are droopy with honey. The party’s thick with the heady scent of tequila, mixed perfume, weed, and saturated with heavy bass. If you’re totally honest you’ve lost track of time.

“There you are,” goes a voice, and you tense. 

“I was looking for you, too, mate.” Your boyfriend’s arm reaches to someone behind you and shakes. “Girlfriend’s feeling a bit tipsy.” He pulls his hand back in, rests it over your the small of your back. 

“You okay?” Carlos leans in, his voice hot against your ear. You blink, in a daze of tipsy and hot, nodding. You’re in between them now, still pressed against your boyfriend. Slowly, your head lolls onto Carlos’ shoulder, exposing your neck. If you stepped back just a bit, you realize—

—you’d feel Carlos’ dick pressed against your ass. “A little tired,” you say, opening your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s. Normally they’re green, but now they’re so dark you can barely tell. The limited lighting doesn’t help. Your knees are weak with the way you resist the urge to grind back onto Carlos, who’s laughing, observing your ditzy face. 

“Let’s get you out of here, huh?” Charles smiles. He’s always so sweet. Doing what you want, what you need, a nice guy in that respect. So he can take what he wants later. He and Carlos down the rest of their drinks, and they’re both ushering you out the back exit and directly into the parking lot.

It’s a direct replay of what happened a few months ago, and what happened a few times afterward. After dinners, races, nights out—it wasn’t too frequent, but enough that it became a thing. Enough, too, that you could grow antsy if it didn’t happen for too long. 

Your boyfriend brought a different car today, his Range Rover with a spacious backseat you’re being guided into. The lack of heavy bass and strobe lights help you feel more sober, but don’t help with the arousal at all. As you climb, your dress hikes up a bit, and Carlos catches a peek of your panties underneath, white and almost see-through, showing the outline of your pussy.

They’re on either side of you, your breath hitching when they lean in closer, lip caught between your teeth and eyes screwed shut. Your boyfriend’s hand grazes your thigh and you spread your legs, involuntary, sighing a low please. Please what, you don’t even know.

“You want this?” Charles asks. He takes things slowly, a dreamy smile on his face, eyebrows knitted together. His hand moves upward, and he runs a few teasing fingers over the lace of your white panties, pressing them harder until you’re starting to squirm, breathless ahs leaving your lips.

“Please,” you say, voice small and desperate. “Yes.”

Your approval makes them more excited; they’ve both missed this more than they’re willing to let on. Your mouth is half open, letting out noises, eyes half-open; Carlos wonders what you’d look like covered in cum. Both his and Charles’, splayed all over your pretty waiting face.

The first time this happened, Carlos watched for the most part. He’d been chained to the driver’s seat, listening to the wet noises of Charles’ fingers fucking into you. He made eye cotnact with you right as you came, a long, drawn-out moan leaving your mouth. He fucked you another time. And he’s missed the feeling. He’s missed the sight of your fucked-out face, moaning on his cock, or his teammate’s, or both.

You press your lips to Charles and he encourages you to part them, slowly deepening the kiss until you’re moaning into his mouth, hips bucking up into nothing. “Please,” you say, “give me something.” Anything, you’ll take anything.

Carlos brings two big fingers to his mouth, laves his tongue over them, and brings them to the apex of your thighs, pushing aside the lace and fucking them into you, one by one. You gasp into Charles’ mouth—his fingers are so thick, pumping in and out at a brutal pace without waiting for you to adjust to the strength. You whimper, breaking the kiss because everything’s too much, head leaning back and eyes meeting the grey ceiling of the car.

“God, she’s wet.” You hear the teasing smile without looking up. “And tight.”

“I know,” your boyfriend says, smiling as he sucks a hickey onto your throat. Your legs quiver. 

It’s Charles’ voice again, sweet and deep against your ear. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you say, nodding eagerly, lifting your head up and looking right at him. 

“Thank him,” he orders. They always do this, make you talk and use your words when your brain is all scrambled and going a thousand different directions. It’s only worse when they start talking about you like you’re not there, using dirty words and sliding into native languages you can’t understand, but they can, and they laugh watching you whimper for more.

“Thank—thank you,” you whisper, turning from your boyfriend’s face to Carlos.

“You’re welcome, princesa. You’re going to make us feel good, too, right?”

You nod.

“Why don’t you start now?” The instruction comes from Charles and you follow suit, hands going from your sides to the tents in their jeans, grabbing at the huge bulges there. You’re losing grip, Carlos’ big fingers are moving faster, feeling your orgasm approach faster. 

Already? Shiiit, your boyfriend says with a low laugh. Go ahead and cum first, baby. Go ahead.

His words are so sweet, kissing up and down your neck, the stimulation pushing you further until you’re cumming from just two fingers. The messy squelch of Carlos’ fingers moving in and out of you gets them both so hard, aching to fuck you, take you apart, make your voice raw. Your moans grow louder and louder, legs trying to close around the hand in between them—they’re held open by two free hands and you have to lie there and take it.

“‘M cumming,” you gasp, tension bursting inside you, pussy contracting around Carlos’ digits. You squeeze at their bulges again, wishing you had the coherency to undo the buttons and the zips. They get the message, undoing their jeans just enough to pull out their cocks.

“Wanna suck you off,” you say, turning to Charles. Shyly, you add, “Both of you.”

The only way to do that is by kneeling on the limited floor space of the car. There’s not much space, and you shuffle around a few times, but eventually you find a position, legs folded and on your knees, in between the two of them.

They’re both looking down at you with dark eyes and devious, teasing grins that feel downright evil, hands wrapped loosely around their cocks. They jack themselves off a few times, and you hoist yourself up higher to watch closely, brows furrowed.

“Open your mouth,” Carlos says sharply, tone low and rushed. You obey, sticking your tongue out, and watch as he rubs the precum off his tip and onto your tongue. He laughs, looking at your boyfriend. “Look at that. Like that?”

“Yea,” you mutter, turning a bit to let your boyfriend to the same, letting your spit drip down from the tip so the glide is easier. He slaps your cheek with it, laughs at the way you pout, and advises Carlos to do the same. You turn again, taking Carlos into your mouth until he’s prodding at the back of your throat and it’s wet all over.

They love seeing you like this—with their precum being smeared al over your shiny, spit-covered cheeks and lips, tongue peeking out to get a taste every time they drag their cocks closer to your mouth. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Sucks dick like she was made for it,” Carlos says, punctuating his sentence with a quip in Italian. They both laugh as you gag around Charles’ dick, jerking Carlos off messily. You’re choking, precum coating the back of your throat and wrist wearing out.

“You look so pretty, baby.” Your boyfriend says, grunting with pleasure.

“Pretty lips, too, yeah?” Carlos says, his hand shadowing yours and making you jack him off faster.

“She can’t reply, Carlos. Too busy gagging on my dick,” Charles says, and your eyes well up with embarrassment that you’ve basically soaked through your panties from their words alone. You want them to cum, cover your lips and eyelashes with them so you can scoop it off and let them watch you swallow it. Be good for them, their good girl.

But they never like cumming if it’s not in you, or after they’ve been in you, so you anticipate the way you’re guided off your boyfriend’s cock by your hair. They tug your head backwards, a bit on the edge of roughly, exposing the column of your throat, littered with spit and lovebites.

Your pussy is getting wetter, dripping through your panties and onto your legs folded underneath. It’s the first thing they inspect when they heave you back into the middle of the backseat, bent over Carlos’ lap so your ass is on full display for Charles and, if he cranes his head, Carlos, too.

It’s humiliating. Your mind’s so hazy you can barely tell whose hands are whose, groping at your ass, pulling away the lace to reveal your puffy, wet cunt and letting the thin strip of fabric snap back to make you yelp. Two fingers push into you, going fast instantly until you’re sobbing for them to slow down. It’s Charles. You can tell because you feel the metal of his rings.

There’s a third at that point, stretching you out further, getting you even wetter and more desperate. You cum easily, overstimulated, tears rolling down your spit-streaked face as you quiver with it, blinking them away as you’re guided back into the middle. They maneuver themselves so they’re facing each other, your pussy right above Carlos’ tip, which is just beside your boyfriend’s.

You’re itching to sit yourself down, feel the familiar stretch of his dick, big and barely fitting when he stuffs himself inside you. It’s addictive. But there’s something Charles wants to do first, evident because he’s not yet letting you ride Carlos, his big hands bruising at your hips. “We’ve done enough to your pretty pussy, haven’t we? Your lips, too, that cute mouth.” He coos, almost. “But there’s something we haven’t even touched tonight, baby.”

Carlos’ hands spread your cheeks apart and Charles’ spit-soaked thumb rubs over your tight hole, causing you to shiver. Oh, God. You squirm above their laps, heart beating with nerves and arousal, pussy rubbing over the tips of their dicks as you go. “I’m nervous,” you whimper.

“Aw, go give Carlos a kiss,” your boyfriend says, his voice teasing and goading. You lean forward, slotting your mouth onto Carlos’ soft lips, parting them with your tongue immediately. He gets you all needy when you kiss him, smiling and enjoying your mindless, needy little grinds. As you kiss him, messy with spit and tongues colliding, you feel fingers teasing you again.

You whimper, Carlos’ hands roughly pulling the low-cut top of your dress down to grope at your tits, roughing them up, flicking your nipples. You moan out loud, caught up in the multiple sensations; your boyfriend loosens you up until his finger goes deep, deeper, bottoming out and stretching your ass out.

He collects some of your slick to lube another finger up, stuffing two into your tiny little hole. You gasp with the new feeling, lips open against Carlos’, who wraps a hand around your throat to guide you into kissing him again. Distractions. Pleasure.

“Jesus, she’s tight,” Charles says, not addressing you at all.

“She’s being really good for me up here,” Carlos replies, squeezing your tits. “Taking everything I give her.”

“Give me more,” you beg, licking over his lips until he’s parting them to kiss you messily all over again. You’re unaware, lost in the numb pleasure and dull painful stretch, that there are three buried in your ass now. He should prep more, Charles figures, but he’s impatient, just wanting to wreck you already, fuck moans out of you until you’re crying.

He nudges the tip of his dick against your ass, slipping the head in and listening to your ohhh as he goes, groaning. It hurts, Charles, you whisper, but your whine is swallowed into a kiss. 

“Relax, baby,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Just relax.”

You’re so tight, squeezing him so, so tight as he bottoms out.

You’re clenching around him so hard he could cum, pump all his cum in you and watch it leak out. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He lets Carlos finally coax his own cock up your cunt, where the glide’s easier, but the stretch now is unfathomable. You blink tears out of your eyes, ones of pain that slowly become unbelievable pleasure, moans spilling forth from your lips, slick gushing out of your puffy cunt.

Carlos thrusts upward, deep, and eventually Charles finds a rhythm too, your legs spread and eyes rolling back with how fast they’re slamming into you. You want to move, you want to avoid the pleasure from how overwhelming it is, the way it feels when they both bottom out at the same time ans you can feel the way your stomach bulges with Carlos’ cock.

“Slow down,” you whine, but they only laugh, watching your face grow more sweaty and flushed and debauched.

“Feel good?” Charles asks. “Use your words, love.”

“S—so fucking good,” you say, words punched out of you thrust by thrust. Carlos leans forward, brings his flushed forehead just flush of yours, both of you bobbing in time with their thrusts, and spits messily into your half-open mouth. Most enters, some splatters over your lips, and your eyes darken with it. You’re certain you’ve cum again just from that.

“Swallow it,” he laughs. “Be a good slut.” His eyes break from yours and meet Charles’, and they exchange a few quips in Italian before your boyfriend’s hand is raking you backwards, leaning over and spitting again. He pushes your cheek around a little, laughing at your docile, fucked-out face.

“Swallow that now,” he says. “Both of them.”

Obediently, you shut your lips, your whimpers pausing as you swallow their spit down. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

“There you go,” Carlos says. You’re absolutely falling apart on their dicks, wet and messy and hot, your legs quivering with it. Carlos slams up harder, pressing your lips together again so he can feel your moans, hear your cute little voice saying Carlos please let me cum  right by his ear.

He pulls out, moving himself higher to use your mouth instead; the added space gives Charles the opportunity to fully bend you over, on your knees and too weak to use your elbows, face smushed against Carlos’ dick. You’re shaking, pussy still trembling and tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheek. You’re struggling to take his dick well, but Charles keeps fucking you, determined to finish.

He pushes you down so your back arches deeper, your lips parted around Carlos’ huge cock. “That’s right,” he groans. “Take it, come on, be a good girl for me.”  

“She’s so tight still,” he says to Carlos. The latter’s hand strokes over your hair, pulls at it, grips at either side of your throat so he can fuck your face properly. He fucks your throat hard, watches you cough and squirm around his spit-coated cock, his balls slapping your face every time he bottoms out. He’s close—Charles is close—and you’ve cum twice again now, pulling off and whimpering I’m cumming— before finishing, gushing release all over your thighs.

“It’s our turn now,” Charles orders. They pull you off at the same time, and you go on your knees again on the floor, gazing up at them with big eyes and a flushed, pretty face, lips pink and puffy from having just been fucked. 

You reach two hands up and jerk them both off again, both their hands guiding you to go faster, faster and faster until—

You flinch, the first hot spurt landing just on your cheek, then your lips, then a bit on your nose. Somewhere in between, Carlos presses his tip to your lips, coaxing them open so he can shoot cum on your tongue and chin. They lean back, collapsing onto the backseat, heaving sighs.

They both look down at you, your nasty, cum-coated face, smiling up at both of them. Carlos blinks a couple times and then smiles. “Hey, mind if I get a picture?”

[ravennaortiz]

Reconcile

Sequel to Stepping Out- A Happy Lowman Story

As always 18+

It had been a year since you had stepped foot in the Teller-Morrow lot. A year since you watched your husband shove his tongue in another woman’s mouth and then carry her back to his dorm to fuck her. A year since you had been humiliated, hurt, left to heal not just a broken heart but also a broken body. What should have been joy at you being cancer free had been nothing but sorrow.

Parking your car in the full lot you looked around. Maybe you should just turn around and leave. Before you could though a tap at your window had you jumping. Looking over you couldn’t help but smile at the goofy grinning faces of Juice, Half-Sack and Ratboy.

“You came” stated Juice as you stepped out of the car. “Well you asked so nicely and all three of you begged….several times” you laughed as he pulled you in for a hug. “We missed ya. Not the same without you popping in” he murmured before letting you go. You met his eyes and gave him a smile. He was right things hadn’t been the same on your end either.

You had missed them all so much more than you realized. They had made a good effort to visit and call but you had been cold and distant. Not wanting to be shown pity. Be seen as the one who had been cheated on. Seen as weak, unworthy, unlovable. So you had stayed away. Until Jax had called you a couple of months ago. He wanted someone he trusted to keep the books for the new strip club and porn studio the club had opened. He also wanted you to give lessons to the new hires, vet them out. You had said no at first. You didn’t want to see your Old Man. Jax had been quick to assure you that you never would.

The four of you made your way to the clubhouse door chatting like old times. You had missed this more than you realized you would. Stepping into the darkened interior of the clubhouse you couldn’t help but cut your eyes over to where Happy would always be waiting for you. You weren’t sure if you were sad or thrilled when you saw the spot was vacant. “Want a drink?” asked Juice his breath hot on your ear as his hand rested gently on your hip as he guided you through the crowd by the door. “Please” you replied as he maneuvered you two towards the bar where Tig and Chibs sat. The other two disappearing to the pool tables.

“Lassie!” hollered Chibs as he caught sight of you as you slid next to him while Juice hopped behind the bar to grab you drinks. “Good to see you Doll” greeted Tig as his eyes traveled down the corset top and short skirt you had on. “Hey” you greeted both men as you took the drink Juice offered.

“You look good” stated Tig. “That top really makes the girls…pop” he added his blue eyes glued to your chest. Chibs simply sighed and smacked him in the back of the head. You laughed and turned away shaking your head. You couldn’t deny you loved the attention. It had been over a year since anyone paid any to you. “What? Just a fact” grumbled Tig before he slid off his stool and made his way over to a darkened corner.

Your eyes watched him go. Maybe you thought to yourself it wouldn’t hurt to test the waters. The toys in your nightstand hadn’t been getting you where you needed. A tiny part of your mind wandered about Happy, but if he cared he wouldn’t have started this whole thing in the first place. The last year wouldn’t have happened. The two of you were locked in stalemate of him wanting to reconcile and you denying him. It had been a few weeks since you last heard from him so you figured he had finally gotten it through his big bald head.

Happy sat lurking in a dark corner. His eyes on you from the moment you had walked in. All his assets on display for everyone in that damn outfit. The tooth pick he had been chewing on had snapped as he clocked Juices hands on you. Who did that punk think he was? Touching his woman like that? It didn’t matter that it was obviously to help get you through the crowd. Happy was pissed. Then that asshole Tig pretty much drooling all over your tits. Suppose to be brothers.

Happy was fuming and seeing red when he felt someone sit next to him. “Go the fuck away” he barked not even looking to see who it was.

“Its your own fault” stated Gemma as she took a drag of her cigarette. Happy turned to her watching as she nodded towards you. “You had it all. Tossed it away. You only had to wait a bit and you could have been getting your dick wet in your Old Ladies pussy, but no you had to go down the dead end road of pussy.” She continued as she smoked.  “You don’t get to be angry with anyone but yourself Happy. Don’t start shit tonight with whichever brother she lets between her legs. And believe me at least one of your brothers she will be letting in.” finished Gemma before standing up as she patted his head. Happy stared in shock as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

A couple hours later

“Hey” you giggled as you collapsed onto Tigs lap dancing and grinding.

“Hey Doll” laughed Tig as his hands went to your hips. “Having fun?” he asked as he felt his jeans start to tent.

“Yeah” you murmured as you turned to face him. Your skirt rising up more as you moved. Tig swallowed hard as he felt your smooth skin under his hands. “These are for you….sorry they got a little wet” you whispered as you shoved your lacy black panties into the pocket of his kutte. Tigss breathing was picking up and he licked his lips as his fingers kneaded your bare ass. “What you playing at doll?” he asked as his your lips found his neck sucking and nipping as you ground your core onto the tent of his jeans. Tig groaned as he looked around. He wasn’t sure if he wanted someone to help or to make sure no one could see.

“I want you to fill me up Tiggy. Make me cum on your cock” you murmured as your fingers found his belt buckle and started working on. “Fuck” muttered Tig as he stood up quickly. Checking to make sure no one was paying any mind he carried you into the hallway to his dorm room.

“Fuck love” muttered Tig as he sat your ass on his dresser as he undid his jeans as his mouth found your neck. Sucking at the pulse point as you used your heels to push his pants and boxers down. Tig moaned as his cock head pressed into your wet slick. “Fucking so wet already” marveled Tig as you whined and bucked your hips to push him in more. “Fuck me Tig” you begged as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest.

Tig chuckled as he grabbed his cock to line it up but before he could thrust into you the door slammed open.

"How could you hurt me like this?' whispered Happy as he stood staring at you and Tig. The latter who was hastily yanking his pants back up as you rolled your eyes and laughed.

"You have no idea what it means to be hurt or feel pain Tacoma Killer" you snarled as you grabbed ahold of Tig and pulled him back to you. Effectively dismissing the man who had barged in. Tig looked between the two of you. “Maybe” he started before you grabbed his jaw turning him to face you. “Fuck me now. If he wants to stay and watch me take your cock that is his choice” you snapped. “Stepping out has consequences sometimes that is watching your wife cum on another man’s cock” you added your eyes boring into Happys.

Tig nodded and shoved his pants down quickly before slamming into you. “Fuck” you moaned as your eyes remained locked on Happys. Tig filled and stretched you in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Shit so tight” groaned Tig through gritted teeth as he started to slam in and out of you. Each snap of his hips the driving you further back onto the dresser.

Happy simply stood watching as you squirmed underneath Tig. Your moans and whines echoing through the room as his friend fucked you.

“Tig” you screamed as his fingers found your sensitive bud and pinched and twisted it sending you over the edge of pleasure. As your orgasm ripped through you your body fluttered and clenched around his cock until finally he was releasing himself deep within you with a feral moan. The two of you sat connected as you caught your breaths.

You moaned once Tig finally pulled out of you. Sitting up slightly you saw that Happys eyes were now locked onto your dripping pussy. Watching as a mix of your and Tigs cum dripped from your hole onto the dresser.

“I’ll leave you two to…talk” murmured Tig as he pulled his pants up before kissing your cheek and leaving the room.

“Seems I know how to pleasure a man” you remarked as you dragged a finger through your folds. Happy watched your finger gather up the mix of cum before moving up to your mouth. You moaned and closed your eyes as you sucked on your cum covered fingers. Happy closed his eyes as he fought to decide what to do or say. He loved you and he couldn’t lose you. He was the one who had started you both down this path, the one who had made you vengeful.

Opening his eyes he walked over and dropped to his knees. You gasped as he yanked you to the edge of the dresser his long tongue licking a strip up your slit before dipping into your hole. “I will lick and suck any man’s cum out of you for as long as it takes for you to finally reconcile with me. If that means forever then so be it” he stated firmly before latching onto your clit as he sucked and nipped gently. Within seconds he had you cuming on his tongue as you screamed his name.

Happy kissed up your body until he reached your lips. “I love you. I am so sorry I did this too us” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Tears sprung to your eyes as you grabbed his kutte and kissed him hard opening your mouth and letting his tongue snake in.

“Make love to me Happy” you whispered as you pulled from him and met his eyes. Happy simply nodded as he picked you up and walked you over to the bed.

[comicaurora]

A work had a controversial installment or arc, and it is widely regarded as bad for the story/franchise at large. Is it better for any future installment to retcon (hard or soft) and revert the status quo to pre-slump or to try to pick up the pieces without throwing the baby out with the bathwater, if one even exists?

Oogh. That's a tough one, considering how many questionable writing choices I'd personally scrub from existence if I had my way, but in general I think it's better to commit to the bit rather than constantly rewriting. Bad writing can be salvaged in hindsight - wasted characters can be strengthened in flashbacks, consequences of glossed-over tragedies can be explored later, dubious dialogue can be rendered profound through callbacks. Look at how Hayden Christensen's been playing Anakin lately and how much people like what he's doing - it doesn't make the prequels not lousy, but it does make them hold together a bit better in the grand scale. Half the fun of twists and reveals is how they reframe past plot points, and if a writer is careful they can add to a story in ways that reach back to the weak parts and strengthen them.

In contrast, the "never mind all that" school of writing makes it very, very obvious to the audience that the writers don't know what they're doing, or at least don't agree with each other, and spotting the hand of the author like that disengages the audience like nothing else.

Tbh I think Star Wars is a really interesting case study for this, since they've been playing both sides sidious-style for ages. Lucas kept digitally remastering the original trilogy and burying the version people saw in theaters, and nobody liked that - hence all the arguments about Han shooting first, because Lucas changed that after the fact to make him more uncomplicatedly heroic. Then the prequels were a mess, but accepting them as What Happened led to shows like Clone Wars (which overall slapped) and Kenobi, which wasn't perfect but did strengthen the characters, including Owen and Beru, who in the original were entirely flat spacefillers designed to die at Refusal Of The Call O'Clock. And bridging the gap between the prequels and OT gave us Rogue One, and then Andor, which are collectively the best star wars has ever been. But the sequel trilogy had AGGRESSIVE retcon-fights between Last Jedi and Rise of Skywalker, the most overt Never Mind All That I've ever seen - and NOBODY liked it.

Overall I think committing to the bit wins out, even if it's rough for the creators to look their past fuckups in the eye and find a way to make them feel intentional.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Our Little Dance" - BurningCheese Short #7

THE SEQUEL TO "Mine Forever More" IS HERE! After I went through the story in episode 6 a couple more times to help visualize things and NOT just to watch Burning Spice openly obsess over Golden Cheese over and over again I swear, I was finally struck with inspiration. Thought about some concepts during work, fleshed them out more when I came home, finally reached a coherent game plan, and here we are. I really hope you all enjoy it!

WARNING PART 2: Again, this is one-sided BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. This is Yandere Spice, not Flirty Asshole Spice. This Spice doesn't deserve Golden Cheese, he deserves a restraining order, or a spot on a registry, or to outright face the fucking wall. He is worse in this part than the last. Go read something else if you're not comfortable with that (and/or if you're a minor).

He knew she wouldn't disappoint him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Burning Spice never cared for dancing. Those few times he allowed himself to be dragged over to that happy, energetic crowd, in those long-gone days of his heroic youth, he always found himself regretting it. Slow, hunched steps so as not to accidentally stomp on the child's feet, as he was so much bigger and stronger than they were. Awkward mimicry of the group circling him, cheering each other on as they carried out traditional performances (he didn't join them on that, of course, the dance itself was tedious enough). Averted - rolled, if he was annoyed enough - eyes and polite disinterest for the red-faced girl who tripped over herself just asking for his hand (she seemed too starstruck to notice he danced with her out of obligation and nothing else).

He remembers people trying to change his mind on the matter. Dancing was not so different from fighting, they said. They had the same flow, the same energy, if one did them right.

What a bold-faced, silly little lie. Dancing only got worse each time he engaged in it. It was annoying. It was all fake. It was boring. Like everything else turned out to be.

He hated those people. He hated festivals. He hated the pitiful civilizations that conjured them. He hated peace and merriment. He hated history. He hated change. He hated life. He hated dancing.

...Or he did, once. He used to. He sees the error of his ways now.

It turns out that what he'd needed all along was the right dance partner.

And she was exactly that, and so much more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their first dance was too short. Their shared passion burned bright, but fizzled out quickly. She'd missed an important step. Stumbled. Fallen.

It was alright. He was angry in the moment, and he told her so. He punished her for her mistake, for her weakness - just as she deserved. They had both waited far too long for this for her to go on and screw it up.

But it was alright. Really. She was still here; she was still breathing; he could still her heart beating in her chest. So long as these were true, then it would be alright. She would collect herself. She would rise, strong and proud, shaking off all of the dirt and blood. She would return to him. To his embrace. They would dance again, better than before. He would give himself to her in his entirety, as he'd planned to. And she would do the same.

His usual lack of patience got the better of him, if only for a moment, as he tucked her into her prison cell. But how could he be blamed? She was simply too beautiful. She looked too perfect there, nestled into his arms, her head still resting against his chest. He'd told her that the kiss was payment for him allowing her lackey to live - and that was true, it really was. He'd wanted that man dead the very second he came into Burning Spice's line of sight. He was too close to her, in either sense of the word, and Burning Spice simply would not have it. It simply wouldn't do. This error shall be corrected soon enough - with extreme, ever-mounting prejudice, the longer the man spent anywhere near Burning Spice's beloved.

But really, more than that, he just wanted to taste her. He simply couldn't bear not doing so anymore. The faint shimmer of her golden hair in the pale light shining down from the ceiling, those rogue strands still framing her face so prettily despite being otherwise ruined, the feeling of her skin against his, that sweet mouth set in such a dazzling frown, that glint of furious determination in her eyes - it was all too much. It was her own fault, really. She made it too hard to say no.

Fuck, she tasted good. So, so good. Sweet, but tangy, and oh so rich. All mixed together into one flavor that he could only describe as her. As Golden Cheese. And fuck, he was already hooked. Addicted to the feeling of her soft lips on his own. Addicted to the feeling of his tongue caressing hers. Addicted to the feeling of her breath mixing with his. He needed more. He'd die without it. He'd die without her.

She would give him more, he knew. She had to. They had so much lost time to make up for already. A bit of time recovering in peace and quiet (ugh), and she'll be alright again. She'll come back to him. And he'll give her many, many more long-awaited kisses.

Their dance wasn't over yet.

She won't disappoint him. She can't.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Yes... Yes, this was what he wanted. Exactly what he wanted. She knew him far too well. Better than anyone ever had.

She escaped. With her lackey, unfortunately - but oh well, they can deal with that later. What mattered now was her taking this next step. Taking the lead in their special dance. So bold, so forward. He loved it. He loved her.

She led him through the halls of his temple; had him weave between the columns, hurry past faded murals depicting his former greatness. He chased her every which way, drank in her lingering scent with relish. Perhaps he should have let her take the lead sooner; this was SO much fun. He was having far too much fun following in her steps. Only she would have the cleverness and creativity to also make their dance a game. To add in all of those aspects of a thrilling hunt that he so adored into their little performance. Yes, he loved this. He adored it.

Honestly, where has she been all his life?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When their dance hit that fever pitch once again, he half expected his heart to burst from his chest out of sheer euphoria. Dragging one another through the temple a second time, all of those worthless walls and pillars and decorations getting caught in their beautiful maelstrom. Such delightful devastation, brought about by her. By his love for her. By them and their union. By this perfect little dance of theirs.

In his manic glee, he let his mask fall, if only slightly. Now wasn't the right time, he would pour his dark, aching heart out to her only when he knew that right time had come - but oh God, she knew exactly what to say to him and how, and how to bring out both the best and worst in him all at once. He would taunt her, mock her, and she would meet his sneering with her own sarcastic indignation. This bickering, this bantering - so, so much fun. SHE was so much fun.

She teased him, too, much to his heightened joy. "The world? I do not care for the world! Nor do I wish to protect it! Or to be called a hero!" A bold yet terrible liar, she was, after she ruined their first dance for the sake of that child. She was truly beautiful, inside and out; at her core shone the bright and pure soul of a hero. And yet, she denied it. It was funny. It was cute. She was so cute.

"I am the Radiant Deity of the Golden City! I fight only to protect my treasures. And I will NOT let the likes of you harm what is mine!" Oh, she truly was so adorable. Prized possessions were just what he loved to destroy most. And he HATED how much these things meant to her: her land, her palace, her gold and jewels, her subjects. He hated them so much, that he let his mask slip: he confessed that, when their dance was over, he planned to go and destroy it all. Everything she ever held dear, wiped off the face of the earth. She didn't need any of it, anyway. He realized long ago that nothing truly matters - nothing except for them, of course - and she would come to realize it, too. He would make sure of it.

Nothing mattered to him except for her. Nothing shall matter to her except for him. They shall keep on dancing forever, even as the world crumbled to dust around them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He began losing his patience near the end. Still more her fault than his. She got to him too much. Too badly.

Some of the weight behind his axe vanished, for he began to favor his own hands instead of it. The axe carved her open, drew her blood, had her dancing so erratically, so desperate to evade its brutal swing - and he enjoyed that. But he enjoyed touching her even more. When he got close enough - and he did everything in his power to get close enough, even for just a second - he would catch her off guard by striking her with his fists instead. He just... he NEEDED to touch her. The itch only got more unbearable as they danced on. Just one split second of his hands on her body, that's all. Even in the form of bloodied knuckles leaving deep bruises on her stomach, or knocking the wind out of her lungs. That's all he wanted. Was that so wrong?

If she noticed this, she made no sign of it. With the way she acted, it was fair to assume she no longer noticed much of anything. She was weakening again; though their dance continued on, though that fire still consumed them, it seemed now that she was being overwhelmed. She was starting to stumble again. She missed a step or two. Had him pick up the slack. It was unfortunate, but still fun, still amusing - he was too far gone to really be upset that this was happening again, to be honest. The spices in the air, the smell of her blood, the sound of her cries and labored breathing... too much. All too much. He was losing his damn mind, and it was exquisite.

But... oh, Golden Cheese, his little bird, with her tenacity and her endless surprises. Even as he took charge of their dance again, she found another way to get to him. To crawl beneath his skin and eat him alive from the inside out.

Her tongue - that sweet, soft, delicious, clever, beautiful tongue - became a poisonous barb, as sharp and painful as the tip of the golden spear that tried (and often succeeded, to her credit) to impale him everywhere she could reach. She attacked not only his body now, but his character, his spirit. She called him a failure. Declared that he had never been a hero nor a god, and never deserved to have been called either. She accused him of self-serving cowardice, of wanting desperately to hide his own shortcomings underneath all of that rubble and all of those mutilated corpses. All with that smug, little upturn of the corners of her lips, and a tiny but bright glint in her eye.

Yes... she knew him too well. She knew how to reach into his heart and twist it. She blinded him with love, then rage, then love again. Invigorating fury. Delectable pain.

And he would inflict this same pain on her tenfold, as punishment for her insults, and encouragement for her to say them to him all over again. For Burning Spice loved and worshipped Golden Cheese, poisonous barbs and all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She fell again. Their little dance came to an end. There she was now, on her knees, her head bowed, soaked in blood. THEIR blood, mixed together. For a brief moment, she had turned him into an artist; in turn, he used her as his canvas.

Just what would it take for her to stop being so damn beautiful, he wondered?

"You said I failed? Hahaha..."

Come, now. He couldn't help himself. Their dance had been so much fun; now he was just riding out the rest of his high. And he wanted her with him, doing the same.

"My... greed... never..."

Still fighting, even now. Even with so many shattered, aching bones. Even with her spear all but snapped in half, rendered practically useless. Her voice sounded tired, broken like the rest of her. But she still feigned strength and poise the best she could. A proud warrior to the very end. Lovely. He would never have accepted anything less.

His mouth contorted into a smile of bitter amusement. "Warlords, heroes, villains and kings... I've seen all of them in my time." She had seen fit to give him a scathing lecture before. Why can't he do the same to her here and now? "They all tried to avert their doom, and like one another, they all perished."

No response. Rude... but understandable. It was fine, regardless. Her silence was answer enough.

"You, on the other hand..." He knelt before her, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. Her skin felt hot and sticky, those tufts of fluffy hair brushing against him damp with blood and sweat. "Forgotten by history itself, and yet you still persist."

He cupped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Gone was that bitterness, no longer was he amused. Now his smile was a manic grin that all but split his face wide open, outshined only by the fire in his eyes. His mask had fallen off completely.

"I fucking love it," he told her.

And then he kissed her again, because he had to. Because he couldn't handle not doing so anymore. Their kiss - his kiss - was starved, desperate, sharp teeth and a hot tongue licking and biting at her lips, that same tongue forcing its way into her mouth and eagerly dominating her own. He finally let his hands roam, more than he'd been able to before, and he lost himself in her touch, in the soft, flawless skin of her arms and legs and stomach - every place she, through her chosen attire, had so graciously left exposed to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, pressing it into her back - right where her wings used to be. She winced; he hugged her tighter. She grunted in pain, he moaned in delirious pleasure, all but drowning her out. He couldn't take it. Just- just couldn't take it anymore. She was just so perfect. So delicious. She danced so beautifully. She drove him mad. He loved it. He fucking loved it.

Their dance was over, but it was fine. It was alright. It had been fantastic, better than he'd hoped. Another devastating loss to her name, worse than the last - but that was how their dance was supposed to go, anyway. It was alright. She's fine, she'll be fine. He won't allow her not to be, because she needed to get back up and dance with him again, and again, and again, and again and again and again and again and again-

"Master!"

His eyes shot open, and he froze mid-lick, still feeling the erratic pulsing of her jugular vein against his tongue (he had briefly abandoned her lips in favor of her neck, showering it with searing, ravenous affection). Slowly, regretfully, he pulled away, releasing Golden Cheese from his grasp and rising to his feet. Back came that old bitterness - pure and true this time, pulling his lips back into a furious snarl and replacing the burning desire in his eyes with boiling hatred.

Nutmeg Tiger bounded into the room and knelt (collapsed, really) at his feet, exhaustion written all over her features but offering him a dutiful smile nevertheless. "Heh... I'm glad to see you... pleased... Great One."

Pleased? She thought he was pleased? He had been relishing his ultimate victory, in this little dance he had with his little bird, finally holding her in his arms again and touching and tasting her... and this- this miserable wretch barges in and interrupts them, and she thought he was PLEASED?

"You! Where have you been?" he spat at her. "You seem even more pathetic than usual."

So pathetic was she, apparently, that she failed to notice his clear outrage at her presence and actually responded. "I merely... took care of that... lackey of hers."

Another fatal mistake. HE had wanted to be the one to "take care of that lackey of hers". He'd wanted to strangle him with his own entrails and gloat that Golden Cheese was HIS AND HIS ALONE as he watched the light in that worm's eyes dim. But no. Nutmeg Tiger robs him of joy and satisfaction yet again.

She kept talking. This weak, mindless, PATHETIC creature kept talking at him. Something or another about the lackey revealing information about Golden Cheese's subjects, and how she'd convinced some Spices to desert. For Golden Cheese's sake - and perhaps to sprinkle a bit of salt into her wounds - he feigned surprise and interest, and laughed in her face when Nutmeg Tiger was finished. He knew all of this already. He knew his little bird inside and out, thanks to the Soul Jams. But playing pretend for a little while wouldn't hurt, would it?

"How does it feel?" he asked her, after he'd indulged in his fair share of cruel mockery. "How does it feel to lose everything?"

Nothing but the sight and sound of her clutching at the ground, trembling fingers raking through the dirt.

"But I must give credit where it's due," he laughed. Perhaps a bit of honest encouragement would rouse her. "After all, it's thanks to you that I realized I had to get my Soul Jam back."

She'd done far more for him - to him - than just that, of course. More than mere words could express. But that was what their dance had been for, wasn't it? That's what all of their dances will be for.

He reached down and grabbed her chin again. "Look me in the eye, Golden Cheese," he said. "I wish to see your face when I kill you."

He won't kill her. He can't. Her death would only result in his own, out of grief and boredom. He will pretend to kill her, then steal her away when neither this brainwashed fool nor anyone else was watching. He'll take her to his palace, to his bedroom. He'll clean her up, help her recover faster so they could dance again sooner. And while he waited, he would open up to her. Pour the whole rest of his heart out to her. Make her whine and beg to have his hands and mouth explore those parts of her that she still hid from him.

"I shall crush your greed, your treasures, your dough." He squeezed her face hard, digging his nails into her cheeks. "And, in the end, I shall take back my Soul Jam."

He knelt down before her one more time, low enough so his face was level with hers. "Don't worry. I always keep my promises..."

He thought he felt her head shift in his grasp... He thought he felt her eyes flicker towards him, if only for a moment, before falling to the ground once more. He promised to bring them back and never let them leave him again.

"All you ever held dear will be swallowed by the Tide of Change."

Everything. Her friends. Her subjects. Whatever still remained of her kingdom. The world itself. All of it. There shall be nothing left except for him, and all of those lonely, adoring, battle-crazed promises he's been silently making to her all the way until that very moment.

Above all else, he promised to keep dancing with her forever.

All he could do - all he's done, all this time - was hope she heard him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She... Golden Cheese, she...

...Oh. Oh, Golden Cheese. His gorgeous, powerful, radiant Golden Cheese...

She surprised him again. As she teetered at the edge of this great precipice, she regained her strength and clarity and saved herself. She broke free from his grasp. She rose to her feet and stood tall. Her voice rose with each word she spoke; words born from pain and sorrow, but overcome with righteous determination. And the Soul Jam - her Soul Jam - recognized this show of unwavering courage and returned to her without hesitation.

And she... then she...

She... changed. She changed form. Gone were those numerous deep wounds that carved and bled into each other. Gone was the blood, the sweat, the tears. A warm, shimmering light enveloped her, stripped her of all of her woes - and her old, tattered clothes - fuck, he'd been staring closely enough to realize that the light had temporarily stripped her bare and damn it, why wouldn't it let him see?! - and released her back into the world, born entirely anew. Dressed in the finest gold, the brightest blue, the- the red? There was red on her now? She donned his color? Just for his sake?

Oh, Golden Cheese, his beloved Golden Cheese... His delectable prey, his precious golden thief, his pretty little bird-

No. Not just a bird now. A phoenix. His stunning, courageous, radiant phoenix.

Yes, his beloved phoenix took him by surprise again and hurried him back to the dance floor... and he watched, not daring to blink even once, as she rose into the sky, eclipsing the sun itself with her mighty wings.

"Burning Spice," she called to him, "It seems the Tide of Change has turned in my favor."

Ohhhhhhhhh fuck, this perfect woman. Always knowing what to say to him and how. Never without her confidence, her pride, her shine. Her radiance.

"Hear my words. You chose to let go of everything you ever had. You do not deserve even the smallest smidgen of my treasures."

Oh, he was hearing her words, alright. He was etching them into the walls of his skull, pouring them onto his brain, forcing them to sink in as deep as possible. Letting the sound of her angelic voice nest in his ears and infect his mind, forcing all of his remaining thoughts out and taking their place like a greedy parasite.

But she was lying and teasing him again, pretty thing. He hasn't let go of everything. He was still clinging to his darling phoenix, desperate to keep her close. She was the only treasure of hers that he ever wanted. And the only thing that will make him let go is death itself.

Yet more glittering golden lights appeared all around her, alongside thickening clouds of earth and spice. From this divine storm came a cluster of spears, each one sharper and deadlier than the last.

The grin on his face ached terribly now, with how great and long-lasting it was.

"How can someone who has forsaken everything prevail over someone who has lost everything?"

Ah, but that wasn't true, either. She has him! She still has him and his love, their love. She still had their little dance; all of those little steps and bends and twirls, their boundless passion and energy, the electrifying touch of their skin and mingling of their breaths. And as he told her once before, he would gladly forsake everything for her. His temple, his possessions, his fellow Spices, EVERYTHING FOR HER AND ONLY HER!

"Remember this moment and taste the bitterness of regret..."

Regret? What regret? He wasn't capable of that anymore and he never would be again - not as long as she was there, taking the Sun's place as the source of light and warmth in his world.

"For you are about to face defeat from everything you have ever discarded!!!"

She dove straight towards him, volley after volley of spears raining down alongside her. His very own meteor shower, with the most captivating shooting star right at the center.

He leapt towards her, the strength of his leap leaving behind a crater where he once stood, wild, demonic cackling spilling from his mouth with abandon. Eyes locked onto one another's: brilliant, wrathful, glittering gold and smoldering, ecstatic, lovestruck red. Spear aimed right at his heart. Axe ready to swipe at her waist and cleave her in two.

She was offering him her hand, asking for his own in turn. She wanted to dance with him again. She missed being in his arms, and the two of them gliding across the floor together in perfect synchronicity. Their unrivaled harmony, the envy of all who witnessed it.

He shall take her hand. How could he not? He loved dancing with her far too much to do otherwise. He loves dancing now, and it's all her fault. She made it too hard to say no.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She did not disappoint him, and neither did the crushing weight of his entire temple bearing down on his back. How touching of her to leave him with such a gift, honestly.

Their last dance ended with a bang. With her staying true to her word and striking him down with all that he had discarded. And now there he lay, in the ruins of that place he and many others once cherished as a home and sanctuary.

He could hear a voice, somewhere at the edge of all the rubble. Nutmeg Tiger. If only he'd had the good sense to slaughter her like a pig like he ought to have ages ago. Now, as he shrugs the debris off of himself and regains his footing, he consoles himself with the idea that in the future, he can execute her right in front of his darling phoenix as a way to return her loving gesture. Yes, that sounds like a plan...

His muscles and bones screamed at him with every little movement he made, but he did not listen. Instead he shambled forward, out of reach of the temple ruins, that mewling, pathetic creature that called herself Nutmeg Tiger still buzzing around him like the insignificant little fly she was.

Clutching at the stab wound in his side (the one that was bleeding the most heavily, anyway), Burning Spice threw his eyes to the early morning sky. Their dance had lasted all the way until dawn... Beautiful.

A smile crept across his face, that eventually grew into a grin, that eventually fell open as deep, joyous laughter erupted from the pit of his stomach and out of his bloody mouth. Nutmeg Tiger started laughing too, but he didn't care about that. This moment was meant for him to savor all alone.

His dance with Golden Cheese had been everything he'd dreamed of and more... And he knew that their next dance would be just like it, for she never, ever disappointed him and never, ever will.

And there shall be many more dances. They shall take each other's hand and sway to their unique rhythm over and over again, until pain and exhaustion consumed them both, only to rise and take each other by the hand and dance another day.

Perhaps those fools from eons ago were right: dancing really is like fighting, if done right. And he and Golden Cheese did it exactly right.

Dancing was Burning Spice's favorite thing now, just as Golden Cheese was his favorite person.

He wanted to dance with her forever. Forever and ever and ever...

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

this was hard to write lol. I really, truly wasn't expecting people to want a sequel to MFM, so I had no plan ready (which is not like me as a writer at all, I am very much an "architect"/obsessive planner with my stories). I waited for episode 6 to drop for inspiration, and when I got it, I hit another roadblock in the form of me having TOO many ideas I wanted to work with. I thought of focusing on their moment right before GC awakens, but then I wanted to also do something with his confession to her (where he admits that he will gladly destroy his entire life to get to her), but then I also wanted to acknowledge his enjoyment of their game of hide-and-seek in the temple, but then but then but then lol. I eventually zeroed in on that scene where he called what they were doing a "dance", and realized that that was what captured my attention the most. The idea that he views their fight as a dance. So that's how I chose to frame his POV and the story as a whole. Like he thinks they're "dancing" together through the whole thing.

idk if I'm happy with the end result overall. I really wanted to do you all justice since you wanted a part 2 so bad. I can always go back and retool things/try to do a "version 2" with those other, smaller concepts as well. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thank you for caring enough to want to see more from me, sorry for the wait haha

And remember, Burning Spice canonically called her his "little bird" and "lovely" and that he was enjoying "their little dance", and he canonically admitted that he would destroy everything and everyone for her, and no one can ever take that away from us now :)

[radioisntdead]

Is there a possibility for a sequel to "The Radio Man's Wife" ?

Good evening my dear! Indeed there is I've had quite a few folks request it! Originally the radio man's wife was supposed to be a one and done deal but now it's progressed into a two and done deal! Hope you enjoy!

The radio demon's wife

Alastor x female reader

Warnings!!

Cannibalism, murder, there's slightly more Alastor in this, still victim blaming the dead people, this is a little messy

This is a part two to this fic here

Alastor's death was a weak spot for him, a shameful death in his opinion, he, the charming radio host Alastor was mistaken for a deer of all things and shot, bullet through his head and bitten by dogs.

Not only was the title of being a radio host ripped away, the job he had worked so hard for, that he had clawed his way up too, that he had killed competitors for, that he genuinely enjoyed, it was gone just like that! Now he'd have to start all over again, not to mention he had left his dear wife behind.

She'd join him eventually, she was just as messed up as he was, but still! It was such an inconvenience.

She died quicker then he would've thought, not even giving him a chance to properly prepare for it,

she'd always been resourceful, one of her traits he was fond of, perhaps the heartbreak had gotten to her? How flattering.

She had managed to hunt down find Mimzy and well, knowing Mimzy she just HAD to reunite the lovebirds, or deers in this case.

She was in Mimzy's speakeasy, sat at the bar sipping on some type of alcoholic drink as she watched the performer on stage sing, she looked different, with deer ears much like his own, they twitched ever-so-slightly, her skin was a more unnatural color, candy shaped markings could be seen from just beneath the hems of her dress.

She was just as lovely as when he saw her last.

Static filled the air as he walked in, and Mimzy called him over, he saw as his wife's face change at the mention of his name, twirling around her face lit up at the sight of him.

Shouting his name she stumbled out of her seat, drink hastily placed on the bar counter as she rushed over, eyes bright and filled with pure adoration as she linked her arm with his.

She'd tut at the state of the home her dear Alastor stayed at, drenched in red, a deer head hung on the wall and there were a concerning amount of radios, she worried her Alastor was becoming a hoarder, she added her touches in rather quickly, banishing the radios to their own room much to Alastor's displeasure, but compromise was expected in marriage.

Now that the two were reunited nothing could tear them apart, as Alastor climbed the ranks she did too, taking down overlords and collecting souls on their own merits.

She would grimace at his new found fondness for cannibalism, making him brush his teeth several times before she would give him a kiss or his weird haircut, much preferring his hair from when he was alive but much like the cannibalism, it for whatever reason wasn't a deal breaker, after all if sinners didn't want to be eaten they shouldn't have pissed off Alastor, or ended up in cannibal Town!

She encouraged Alastor as he aimed for power, power he would've never been able to attain in life for multiple reasons, and he encouraged her to rise the ranks with him.

She kept the sickly sweet persona even if it wasn't needed, it came in handy with taking souls.

She became friends with Rosie, she was involved with the friendship between Vox and Alastor, at least until Vox got weird and tried to seduce Alastor, and when that didn't work tried to seduce his wife too, trying to get both of them thinking that was the issue.

The married ace deer man, and the also married ace deer woman, very smart of him to try to seduce them.

She was near Alastor throughout the years, it wasn't odd to see the pride ring's sweetheart and the radio demon walking around side by side.

But it was odd when she was often seen alone, repeatedly for the seven years Alastor had vanished.

She didn't need Alastor to survive but she did prefer him around, especially as others took his absence as a chance to woo her.

It did not end well for them, either perishing in a painful way, souls stolen, given to Rosie as a gift or another way she had thought of.

It was their fault for trying to take Alastor's place in her heart afterall!

As the years dragged on painfully slow, she built on her territory, gaining influence and power.

The night Alastor returned she was fast asleep, arms wrapped around the feral catlike creature that resembled him.

Alastor slid in a key to the door of their home, quietly entering and closing the door behind him.

Not much of their little ol' home had changed in his absence, the same decorations hung on the walls, the mounted deer that his [name] disliked was still there in the living room, although now with a tacky top hat on it for whatever reason, the couches were the same, there was a vintage TV set Infront of the couch that he frowned at, he would have to dispose of that later.

He walked through the room and into the halls, hooves tapping against the floors as he traveled,

His grin widened as he opened the bedroom door creeping in and standing above his sleeping wife, watching.

He shook his head at cat creature, making a motion for it to move, it refused, resulting in Alastor picking the lil' guy up and tossing him to the side of the bed before looking down at his now awaking wife.

She screamed at the glowing red eyes staring at her in the dark, grabbing a pillow and launching it at Alastor before she reached for the lamp.

Alastor had another pillow thrown at him after the light was turned on and she recognized him.

While Alastor had proclaimed the position of being the Facility manager of the Hazbin Hotel She had called dibs on promoting the hotel via different means, newspaper, social media, [much to Alastor's disapproval but he couldn't do much about it, sucks to be him]

Did she completely believe in the whole redemption idea? Not really but watching things progress in the hotel as time went on was fun!

She was known as a sweetheart, a saint when she was alive, she was known for being charming and being married to the equally charming radio man.

she was known for luring people in with her sweet venom coated words, for being ruthless when the situation called for it.

She was now known by her friends at the hotel as the cheerful publicist that for whatever reason married the creepy smile guy even though she could do better, she was known for being somewhat supportive of Charlie's aspirations.

She eventually would stand back and watch as Alastor aimed to take advantage, more then likely betraying them in the end, trying to undo his deal that not even she knew the details of, but for now she would sit comfortably at the bar, sipping on some type of sweet drink watching as Charlie organized another exercise with Angel dust cracking an inappropriate joke, with Vaggie giving him a disapproving look, with Husk taking a swig of his drink, with Niffty doing Niffty things, with Sir Pentious and his eggs listening intently, and with Alastor standing by with that neverending smile of his.

Good evening folks! This isn't my best work, I didn't know how to really make a part two to the Radio man's wife but hopefully y'all enjoyed! Assuming everything goes to plan a platonic Rosie fic should drop tomorrow! So tune on in to that, until we meet again folks!

[baseballmomlesbiandad]

Random QL Superlatives/Favs 2k24

I've been shuffling around these QL streets for a few years now but I typically stay in the shadows and lurk on everyone else's wonderful meta, gifsets, and discussions. This year, I thought I should take a step into the light and reveal a little bit of my heart for y'all. Thanks for keeping me laughing and crying throughout 2024!

Top-tier cuddling award

OonMay, Pluto the Series

May’s neck is the perfect spot for Oon nuzzles. I get her, I wouldn’t ever want to move from that spot, either. For a series that has the first meeting between the leads start with a passionate kiss, it isn’t totally surprising to me that they can rock a cuddle but the sheer amount of time these women spend in May’s bedroom gives us many an opportunity to see them comfy in bed together. Namtan and Film seem so comfortable with each other and I’m really looking forward to seeing them in more GL’s in the future (give me Girl Rules NOW).

Runner up: At 25:00 in Akasaka

Hayama and Shirasaki didn’t have the opportunity to share a bed much in the show (well, as much as OonMay) but when they finally got together and cuddled in the afterglow, I was gobsmacked by this shot. I think ‘Tattoo it on my eyelids’ was my specific response.

The year of tattoos, the best and the worst

Best: Reverse 4 You/4 Minutes

I’ve gotta make this a tie because while Bible’s thigh tattoo in 4 Minutes is particularly popular throughout the community (and I agree!), I went weak in the knees when they showed Christine Gulastree’s tattoos during FourWa’s first hookup. That line all the way down her spine? Idk about y’all but I immediately started drooling. Wa you are so lucky. Christine, are you free this thursday

Worst: The Heart Killers

Oh Kant. Buddy. The tattoo near his wrist was literally smudged. Please, y'all. 

Honorable tattoo mention: Jack & Joker

Listen, most of Joke’s prison tatts are ridiculous but luckily for me, I’m into that shit. I will be getting at least two of Joke’s tattoos permanently placed on my body. No regerts. You’re welcome to guess which ones.

Best kiss

Hotae and Donghee, The Time of Fever bedroom kiss

A year filled with great kisses! But I know from other lists that I'm not alone with this pick. This show was my most anticipated of the year since Donghee and Hotae caught me hook, line, and sinker in Unintentional Love Story. The moment that show ended, I wanted more of them. And then they did give us more (and premiered it on my birthday, no less) and they didn’t disappoint!! Especially by giving us the bedroom make-out with that immediate change of tension in the air when Hotae fed Donghee the orange and touched his lips; Hotae fully shaking with desire and begging to be kissed again; a heater in between them!! the breathing sounds!!! Won Tae Min is such a delight to watch, a great actor in all of his projects and Do Woo is so pretty and holds his own against Tae Min. I love them. I still want more. Give us the sequel to ULS, cowards!!! 

Best almost kiss

X and Namping, Every You, Every Me

Though later in this list I continuously sing praises about Top Piyawat's beauty, the reason why I'm so hung up on this almost kiss really goes to Mick Monthon here. X wants it sooo bad. He is struck stupid by being this close and held this tender by Namping and if I were him, I would simply perish on the spot. I truly loved this show while it was on, had complete brainrot about it, and this storyline in particular fucking ended me (affectionate).

BL Characters that shove me back down the Kinsey scale a la Jin Guangyao at Carp Tower

Tharn from The Sign

via @guzhufuren

IRL I typically self-identify as a lesbian (but like *shrug*) however, every now and then I become infatuated with one of these BL boys and Tharn really did a number on me. I mean c’mon. Babe babygirl Thanatat playing this tiny, feisty, sad, gorgeous man. The mole(s). A snake princess of indiscriminate gender. She is everything to me. He was the moment. Remember when he was so horny that he tried to smother Phaya to death? Obsessed with everything about him. BillyBabe continue to torture me. I don’t think I need to explain further, many of y’all were right there on the crazy train with me.

Namping from Every You, Every Me

I thought no one could tempt me like this after Tharn but then Top Piyawat came in with the steel chair that was Namping in episodes 3 and 4 of Every You, Every Me. What I loved particularly about this show was the dominance swapping between storylines and there’s something so sexy about someone being able to lean into both his feminine and masculine qualities so masterfully (Mick does a good job with this, too). Namping was BEAUTIFUL, his shoulders and slutty tops made me absolutely weak to my knees. I have rewatched these eps multiple times even though they make me snotty cry bc I just can’t get enough of X and Namping. And in the next eps the way Top had me thirsting over him as a fuckboy musician who never wears sleeves? He should be in jail for that. Anyway, Top, will you be my wife.

Most Sensual Pasta Making

At 25:00 in Akasaka

This show had me by the throat while it was airing and I can’t fully explain why other than I tend to feel this way about certain Japanese BL’s with a blonde and brunette pairing (Candy Color Paradox was not a great show but I was obsessed and still don’t know why)—having two nickels, etc., etc. Anyway, the gnocchi making? It was hot, what the hell. As someone who moonlights as a fresh pasta vendor at a weekend farmer’s market, this scene was specifically made for me. As an aside, I didn’t watch My Love Doesn’t Have Long Beans so if they sensually make pasta in that and aren’t just violating OSHA regulations all over the kitchen then I’m sorry!

screenshot via @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Silliest character that had me in stitches of laughter

Shiba Ryoma in Love is Like a Poison

The amount of times this man had me laughing out loud is in the 100s. It’s the stark contrast of his straight-laced, deadpan, almost robotic personality with his silly quirks and impossible-to-hide reactions, especially as Haruto comes onto him more and more as the series progresses. Highlights include every time he has a ‘gay seizure’ as @guzhufuren coined, his knees buckling when Haruto starts sweet-talking his plants, throwing the napkin in ep 4, literally every single thought that crosses his mind eps 1-4, when he tries to make AI Clippy be his 101st partner, the PICTURES, and so much more. The actor who played him, Shogo Hama, gave me everything and Haruto and Ryoma as a couple had me crawling up the walls, particularly in the first few episodes.

Runners up: Ishida in Mr. Mitsuya’s Planned Feeding and Qian in Unknown (Chris Chiu!!)

GL woman I would follow around on my knees for the rest of my life if she asked

Pat, Unlock Your Love

Cake Nawanine. A beautiful brat who knows exactly what she wants, which is that hot soft butch tattoo artist, and will fight all of her evil ex-girlfriends to prove her love. Deane is truly wild for continuing to fumble this absolute goddess of a woman, but what can I say, Deane is basically the Thai equivalent of a ‘hey mamas’ lesbian. Even so, their make-out scenes together were scorching and Pat’s flirting game was top-tier. I had a lot of fun with this little show and will continue watching series with B Mine and Near if they keep making them. And Cake! Please come back to my screen, I love you, I WILL treat you right. 

Thank you @khaopybara for sustaining my lust and love by being one of the few people making beautiful gifsets of my girl.

Most surprising chemistry between an already beloved pair

JoongDunk in The Heart Killers

Hear me out!!! I enjoyed Joongdunk in Star in my Mind and Hidden Agenda and I even thought their intimate scenes and sex scenes in both were pretty good. I was not prepared for The Heart Killers though, like I am really blown away by them as Fadel and Style and they are quickly rising to be one of my favorite branded pairs. I’m sorry it took me so long to recognize real!! As someone (probably a few) mentioned on here, I came to The Heart Killers mainly for FirstKhao, my loves, but am sticking around to see JoongDunk and what else these absolute psychos have in store for us.

Most used show tag that automatically populates first whenever I make a new post on tumblr dot com

The Sign the series

This makes sense because I was unhinged about this show and Babe, in particular. Thank you Saint Suppapong for giving us feral idiots exactly what we want, which is total nonsense, hot hot hot chemistry, and beautiful men wearing dresses. I’m glad I spent the end of 2023 and the beginning of 2024 with this show and I feel very much the same way about The Heart Killers for this year.

Blorbo(s) from my show(s) i.e., characters I have imprinted on like a duckling

I already gushed about Namping, love of my life, will not elaborate more or we’ll be here all week.

Hayama from At 25:00 in Akasaka. I love a quiet yearner, that’s no surprise, but something about Hayama in particular really resonated with me. It’s the LWJ effect, I think, someone who seems to not emote at all on the surface but is really a storm of feelings underneath and Kiita plays it so quietly and intensely. His backstory episode was so good I watched it again immediately after finishing it the first time. Hayama’s friend telling him that Hayama has so many walls up that even he himself doesn’t know what he’s thinking or what he wants? Ooof that hit right where it hurts. 

Mole Goddess possessing the teacher in Caged Again. All of the actors that get to play the Mole Goddess look like they’re having so much fun but her in particular had me rolling with laughter when she was first introduced, looking at herself in the mirror and practicing scolding students to get into character. What a diva. Who is this actress?!

Way from Pit Babe. I know this show started in 2023 but I binge-watched the show a week leading up to the finale in February and was assaulted by the purest pathetic energy of anything I’ve ever seen radiating off of Way. My morning commutes were hell until i took on this endeavor and it was one of the best decisions I made this year. I could not control my laughter on those crowded train cars, I did not care how crazed I looked. Way, you are everything, RIP to the realest (bc allegedly only Way’s lookalike is coming back in season 2?!). Thank you, Nut <3 

Style from The Heart Killers. Again, this is another one that i don't need to explain. I am similar to Fadel in that I like his cockiness...and his lips. Also Style is named appropriately bc i want, nay NEED, his entire wardrobe (and dorito looking ass body).

Other shows this year that have left a mark on me:

Takara no vidro, Ayaka is in love with Hiroko, Fangs of Fortune (not a BL but queer as hell), Love for Love’s Sake, Love in the Big City, 23.5, Cherry Magic TH, Deep Night, Wandee Goodday, Monster Next Door, Let Free the Curse of TaeKwonDo, The On1y One, See Your Love, Dead Friend Forever, Twins the Series, Petrichor

Shows I didn’t watch/finish but have on my list

The Trainee, The Affair, The Loyal Pin, My Stand-In, and probably a lot more, there was so much this year and I'm still catching my breath. If you have any recs for me, i welcome them!

Special shout-out to those who probably see me pop up in their notifs always, particularly @absolutebl, @heretherebedork, @guzhufuren, @respectthepetty, @waitmyturtles, @negrowhat, @yinwaryuri, @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @spicyvampire, @pharawee and many more. thank you for all you create for little ole fans like me!

Looking forward to what 2025 brings us!

[coralinnii]

I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Leona genre: budding romance note: continuation of the sequel to Villain/ess au Leona’s ver., not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used, established political relationship, Leona and reader are adults, roughly 1.5k word count, reader is interpreted as extremely ticklish,

Series masterlist

The Royal couple is in trouble!

No, not the King and Queen. And you and Leona are not really in danger, nor are you breaking up or anything…ok no one is really in trouble.

But there’s definitely some tension between the newlywed couple as the servants fear the honeymoon phase has finally fizzled (though you wanted to argue that there never was such a phase to begin with).

First, it started with the lover’s quarrel (the lovers part is also debatable, you muttered) the day Leona revealed fresh scratch marks on his shoulders and chest. The knights recalled the frustration and embarrassment on your face when you verbally tore into Leona over the marks, yelling at the young prince how humiliating it was that King Farena himself had to mention it.

Leona’s words didn’t help your ire, casually replying, “I couldn’t care less what my brother or anybody says about me or our relationship, and neither should you”

Unfortunately for him, you don’t agree with that as you left the training grounds right after calling him a “tactless housecat”. The knights kept their awe for you internally so as to not get caught by the stunned prince. No one but you could ever call Leona Kingscholar that and leave unscathed. Kudos to you

Since then, you have avoided your shared bedroom with your husband, making excuses of obligations and signs of illness (a huge migraine counts, right?). but no one knew you were actually just fearful that Leona would exact his revenge on you through tickling. You don’t regret pissing off the great Leona, you just regret showing a vindictive beastman your weak spots.

Leona was pissed but not because you called him a housecat (ok, maybe a little), it was mostly because your absence has disrupted his naps.

Since your union, you two were obligated to share a bed frequently to maintain your relationship despite having your own personal rooms. At first, it was a pain for Leona to share his peace and quiet with someone but he has grown accustomed to you as the two of you come together to sleep.

The warmth of your body that radiates that perfect amount of heat beside him, the pleasant waft of your scent that sticks to the sheets and pillows that doesn’t overwhelm his senses unlike the obnoxious perfumes of those gold-diggers, your soft breathing that lulls him to sleep as he unconsciously inches closer to you to hear and feel you better. He finds himself waking up in a much better mood and more well rested after your shared nights. You can’t just take that away from him after getting so comfortable.

You ruined his napping routine so you gotta fix it now.

Leona came up to you, calling a truce to “that incident” and promising not to tickle you as revenge for your yelling and insults. You immediately picked up his wording, noting he didn’t say he’ll stop tickling for good, but you figured that’s fine for now.

Ironically though, you really did have obligations that required you to stay in your personal bedroom. You have been exchanging letters with someone from a neighbouring kingdom who was planning a visit soon. So, you were now avoiding sharing a bed with Leona since you didn’t want to disturb his sleep as you stayed up to make preparations for the visiting Royal.

With your prolonged avoidance and Leona’s growing grumpiness, the castle has been tense with worry that the peaceful alliance may be at risk. Everyone was on edge and nearly in tears, especially one young lion cub.

“The kingdom’s in danger!” Cheka bawled as he buried himself into your arms, clutching to your clothes. He had walked into your bedroom with tears in his eyes, towards your seated position by your work desk and climbed into your lap.

You were at a loss at the young cub’s sudden proclamation. You turned to Leona who was lying on your large bed, spreading himself across the mattress like he owned it. He only shrugged his shoulders, confused as you are (though clearly not as worried).

“Cheka honey, what do you mean? Did your father say something today?” You asked worriedly, wondering what news could lead to such a statement.

But Cheka shook his head, still holding onto your shirt. If you weren’t so concerned with his words, you would have joked about how the young heir acts more like a koala than a mighty lion right now.

“Then spit it out, you brat” Leona irritably said, earning a side glare from you which he ignored, “What do you mean the kingdom’s in danger?”

“Hic…everyone is saying you two are gonna b-break up” Cheka choked out, tears filling his eyes again, “Then the union is gonna fail and everyone might go to war”

…

There was now silence as you and Leona processed the child’s words. That was one hell of a stretch of a scenario. Sure, your union with Leona was one of political benefits, but you weren’t crazy enough to start a war with an entire kingdom over a bad break up.

“We ain’t breaking up”

“Oh right, that too” you thought, realizing the obvious that Leona pointed out with an angry growl in his throat, his tail thumping down against your bed in visible annoyance.

“You and Unca aren’t?” Cheka asked, finally lifting his head to look up at you with hopeful eyes. You smiled at the cute cub beastman, weaving your hand through his fluffy hair.

“No, your uncle and I are perfectly happy. We’re not breaking up anytime soon” you reassured your nephew, too distracted to notice the way the aggressive thumping on your bed had stopped.

“Happy? Like mommy and daddy?” Cheka asked with a quizzical look, leaving you to gush internally over such cuteness.

You absentmindedly nodded your head. “Yes, just like your mommy and daddy”

“Then how come Unca and you don’t kiss?”

Oh, the silence is back.

“Mommy and daddy are always happy with each other, and they kiss all the time” Cheka continued, tapping his mouth to show where he sees his parents leave kisses, “If you’re happy, don’t you kiss each other?”

You’re cursing to yourself a mile a minute in your head, a rush of emotional stress going through your body. You didn’t want to explain the complexity of your relationship with Leona to the young Cheka, especially when you didn’t want to destroy his views of love and romance.

“How dare King Farena call me out on my PDA with Leona when he goes ahead and does this?” You frustratingly thought as you looked to Leona who has been unhelpfully laying on your bed, suspiciously quiet for a while. You glared at him while tilting your head to his nephew, wordlessly demanding help from your husband.

Surprisingly, it looked like Leona was willing to help you afterall. He finally got off your comfy bed and walked towards you and Cheka, settling to place his hand atop the backrest of your chair and leaned down towards your head.

“Yea, why don’t we kiss?”

You take back everything you thought. Leona Kingscholar is never helpful and you’re a fool to ever think that. You hoped your glare would eventually burn Leona, but sadly he still stood proudly over you with a smug look on his handsome face. Damn his handsome face.

“It’s your move, herbivore” Leona said, purposely baiting you by calling you a herbivore. He took the teasing further by leaning further down towards you, eager to see your next move.

He’s calling you out, waiting to see if you’ll chicken out and make an excuse to Cheka as he was watching you with anticipation. Fine, you’ll make the great Leona Kingscholar think twice before testing you.

You made the first move, boldly capturing the cocky prince’s lips with your own.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. The two of you have done it before on your wedding day. It should mean nothing to you as it did that day, just a formality to show your dedication to this alliance. Just a meaningless skinship between adults, right?

But why did it feel so good?

Why did you enjoy the surprising softness of Leona’s lips, or the way he didn’t seem shocked by your sudden attack but instead pressed his lips further onto yours. Why did it feel so nice to feel the Leona’s warmth on you, his natural scent strangely attractive to you. Even the stray locks of his dark mane felt nice as it lightly tickled your cheeks. You rather perish than to verbally admit, but your prideful husband was a good kisser. Firm and confident, if a little strong.

Actually really strong, why is he getting more aggressive?!

You had to fervently whack the tall prince on his shoulder to signal him to get off, to which he very slowly did. He backed away from you slightly, a little annoyed but still satisfied according to his little smirk. He certainly enjoyed the flustered mess of your face.

“Yay! No break up!” Cheka’s chirpy voice broke your daze and he cheered over your apparent “happy” relationship.

You sighed, but at least you were thankful to settle this weird confusion. You should probably speak with the servants to clear the misunderstanding around the castle.

But Cheka once again surprised both you and Leona

“Now, you and Unca can sleep together again!”

The life of royalty is not easy.

[ginnsbaker]

loving an avenger

Summary: The last installment from the Dentist AU, sequel to it's just dinner;

Vision tilts his head slightly, a gesture you've come to recognize as him deep in thought. “If that's a prerequisite for you,” he states presumptuously, like the answer to your prerogative is so startlingly obvious yet you failed to catch them. “Then may I suggest you sleep with her and then ask her to marry you?”

Word count: 3.2k | Tags: Fluff, Marriage Proposals gone wrong , 'Efficent' is Wanda's middle name according to her

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Author's note: And that concludes our Dentist AU! All fluff, no tears.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda Maximoff is your girlfriend.

Wanda Maximoff is your girlfriend.

No matter how many times you repeat it to yourself, you’re never going to get used to the fact that Wanda Maximoff is your girlfriend.

And dating this particular Avenger is both your greatest source of comfort and anxiety.

On the days when it's peaceful, when the weight of the world isn't pressing down on either of you, the indescribable comfort comes from the simplicity of your relationship with Wanda. Those are the days when her protector-of-the-world persona fades into the background, and you get to be with simply Wanda, the woman.

Grocery shopping, for instance, becomes something you look forward to on weekends. Walking down the aisles, hand in hand, you spend more time discussing the virtues of one brand of pasta over another, or debating whether to indulge in a tub of ice cream, than any imminent world threat. Sometimes, Wanda playfully levitates a grape or two, making them dance in the air before popping them into your mouth, her laughter ringing in the quiet corners of the store.

Strolls in the park are as romantic as the candlelight dinners you frequently organize at various fine dining spots in the city, especially after learning that Wanda rarely goes out. You both love laying down on the grass, feeling the sun warming your skin, and the world around fades as you listen to her recount stories from Sokovia, her voice soft and nostalgic. Some days, you carry a little music player, and with wired earbuds shared between the two of you.

And then there are the quiet afternoons at home. The beautiful monotony of those moments is the real magic. With you engrossed in a book and Wanda laughing at sitcom reruns, or the two of you attempting to bake. Baking sessions usually end with more flour on both of you than in the bowl, dough fights, and running around the kitchen before tackling Wanda onto your bed and kissing her silly. Even if the cookies turn out a bit burnt, the warmth is always just right.

On the flip side, when the world demands its due from her, it's pure torment. The darker undertones of dating an Avenger are impossible to ignore. An ever-present undercurrent of anxiety runs deep within you. The unpredictability of her life means that any moment could be the last time you see her smile, hear her laugh, or feel her touch.

The agony of days, sometimes even weeks, without contact from her is torture. Every second feels like an hour, every hour like a day. The silence, the not knowing, is the worst part. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Each time the news reports another battle or threat, your heart clenches, waiting for a hint that she is alright. But more often than not, there's no word, no sign. Just the excruciating wait.

And then there are the times she returns, not as the invincible hero, but as a wounded Wanda. A cut on her lips, a gash across her forehead, or bruises marring her porcelain skin. You often nurse her wounds, fighting back tears and the urge to plead with her to stay, to give it all up.

One evening, in a moment of weakness and sheer fear, you do suggest it.

“Why can't you just leave it all behind? There are other, stronger heroes who can step in,” you murmur to her, both of you teetering on the edge of sleep.

“I caused so much darkness for a long time,” she says, her fingers coming up to trace your cheek and ease the creases on your forehead. “I need to pay my dues. I need to make things right.”

You find it hard to believe, considering the Wanda you know is nothing but a beacon of light. The thought of her having a dark past seems so distant, so unfathomable. Yet, her commitment to redemption is undeniable.

“Until when?” you ask softly, eyes locked onto hers, searching for answers. “When will it be enough?”

Wanda hesitates, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, as if searching for the answers there. “I don't know,” she whispers. “But every day, I try to be better than I was the day before, hoping that one day the scales will balance.”

You turn to face her fully, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Wanda, you've done so much good. You've helped countless people. At some point, you need to forgive yourself too.”

She chuckles lightly, the corners of her mouth turning up. “You know, sometimes I think that maybe it won't be for too long.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, “Oh? And why's that?”

“Because,” she begins, her fingers playfully tracing patterns on your arm, “If I have you by my side, maybe I'm doing something right. I like to think of you as my little reward for turning things around.”

You can't help but laugh at that, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Your 'little' reward? Are you calling me short?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I'm just saying that for all the vastness of the universe, it's the small, unexpected joys that matter the most.”

“Well, in that case,” you grin, your heart swelling in your chest, “I'm honored to be your 'little' joy.”

It always ends up like this. She sneaks in a flirty comment during your serious talks, and somehow, just for a moment, you forget about the worries that'll come back later.

But this is also how you eventually realize that you love her.

No matter what she chooses to do, you swear—even if it kills you, even if it disrupts your peace and turns your world upside down—you'll never leave her side unless she asks you to.

-

Within a week, you're back at the Avengers compound, not to visit Wanda, but to meet with a different Avenger.

Vision.

Wanda is on a small mission with Natasha, and you specifically timed your visit so that she wouldn't be around. You've come with a purpose, one that you're unsure of how it'll be received. 

Finding Vision is no easy task, but after inquiring discreetly, you're directed to a chamber that seems more like a serene meditation space than a room in a superhero compound.

“Vision?” you call out tentatively as you step into the dimly lit room. The chill in the air is so intense it feels like walking into a server room, almost expecting to find rows of computers thrumming in the cold. Instinctively, you pull your doctor's coat tighter around your body.

Vision appears almost instantly. “How may I assist you?”

You exhale slowly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, this is going to sound weird, but... I need some advice about Wanda.” It feels a bit ridiculous as the thought crosses your mind—asking a synthezoid about relationship matters. But he's close to Wanda, and honestly, you're at a loss for who else to ask.

Vision's gaze sharpens a touch, “Go on.”

“I love her,” the words tumble out before you can rein them in. “Every time she's out on a mission, I'm a wreck. I'm always scared something might happen to her. I wish she'd... I don't know, think about retiring? Or at least find some way to be safer. But I have no idea how to even bring it up.”

Vision remains silent for a beat, then replies, “It's not uncommon for those close to Avengers to feel this way. But Wanda's commitment to this role is profound. Asking her to retire would be  asking her to change a fundamental part of who she is.”

“But what about her safety?” you press on rather desperately.

Vision takes a moment, as if deliberating if the term ‘safety’ should even apply to the likes of them, before saying, “In our line of work, there are no certainties. Every mission, every decision carries inherent risks. It's a reality we've all accepted. It's the price of our commitment to a greater good.”

You nod defeatedly. Maybe you were hoping for a different answer. But like the rest, he too prioritizes the greater good above himself. 

“I just wish there was something more I could do,” you say.

Vision steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder in a gesture that's surprisingly comforting coming from a synthetic being. You’re beginning to understand why Wanda considers him her best friend. 

“Your presence in her life, the love you offer, it's more than you realize. Hold onto that,” he says. Then, he looks at you with an unexpected sparkle in his surprisingly soulful eyes. “Have you considered making a lifelong commitment to Wanda?”

You gulp, taken aback. “You mean... marriage?”

The suggestion from Vision was so unexpected, so left-field. But thinking about it, there were times—like when you'd make Wanda laugh and her nose would scrunch up all cute—where the idea did, fleetingly, cross your mind.

(You’re so embarrassed to admit it, but it’s just how your brain works around Wanda Maximoff.)

“Yes,” Vision nods. “Sometimes, offering stability and a promise of forever can provide an emotional security that transcends physical safety.”

For a moment, it strikes you—for someone who isn't even human, he sure has a knack for relationship advice. What Vision is suggesting does make sense: If you can't keep her safe, you'll keep her happy. Sometimes that's the only thing you can do. 

But there’s just one problem.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to say this, but…we haven't even... I mean, we're taking things slow,” you stumble over your words, your cheeks burning at the thought of being with Wanda that way. It's also not the sort of detail you’d anticipated sharing with Vision, of all beings, but it's out now.

Vision tilts his head slightly, a gesture you've come to recognize as him deep in thought. “If that's a prerequisite for you,” he states presumptuously, like the answer to your prerogative is so startlingly obvious yet you failed to catch them. “Then may I suggest you sleep with her and then ask her to marry you?”

Your jaw drops slightly, and you blink a few times, attempting to find words. “Vision, that's...easier said than done,” you manage to say, your voice faltering a bit towards the end. You quickly clear your throat, wondering if the temperature in the room could drop any further, because despite the chill, you're suddenly feeling quite warm in your civilian clothes.

“What do you mean by ‘easier said than done’?” Vision asks, rubbing his chin, no doubt a conscious effort to display his human side. “Do you need me to teach you how to—”

“No!” you blurt out, hands shooting up in a frantic 'stop right there' motion. Your mind races with the myriad of things Vision might've been about to suggest. “I've got a pretty good grasp on...human basics, thanks.” 

“Ah. Noted. I simply meant to offer guidance in whatever form you might need. Perhaps I could download a helpful guide or recommend books?” he asks.

You snort, the image of Vision giving sex education a new meaning now firmly planted in your mind. “No, thanks. I think I'll stick to the old-fashioned way of figuring things out. You know, trial and error, preferably without any downloadable guides.”

He nods, making an exaggerated display of understanding, “Ah, the human way of fumbling through experiences. Intriguing. And very inefficient.”

“Well, humans fumbled their way through evolution, so…”

“An interesting perspective. Still, if ever you need a recommended reading list…”

“No reading lists,” you say with a grin. “Just... help keep her safe. That's all the help I need from you.”

Vision’s lips curl into a slight smile. “Very well. That, I can promise.”

-

Despite your initial reaction to Vision's advice—of sleeping with Wanda and then asking her to marry you—as being ridiculous, it’s all you can think about.

You only realize what you've done after stepping out of the jewelry store, having just purchased an engagement ring with a central ruby stone encircled by tiny diamonds.

-

Tonight is the night.

You’ve set the mood—candles, soft music, the whole shebang. After weeks, maybe even months of hinting and hoping, you’re ready to take the next step with Wanda. Well, at least you think you are. There are two things in particular that are making your palms sweat and your heart race tonight. Firstly, the intimate step you’re trying to take with Wanda. And secondly, the engagement ring you impulsively bought, still tucked inside your back pocket, silently judging you for your timidity.

The two of you are cuddled up on the couch, the distance between you almost non-existent. The movie, 50 First Dates, plays in the background, but neither of you are paying it much attention.

The kissing has been going on for a good two minutes (not that you're counting or anything, but you just so happen to be facing the wall clock), and so, you make your move, your hand finding its way to her back, fingers fumbling clumsily as you try to find the clasp of her bra.

She stiffens and you hold your breath. Oh no. Did you move too fast? Just as a bead of panic-induced sweat is about to roll down your forehead, Wanda turns to you with a knowing look. “Looking for something?”

You stammer, trying to form a coherent sentence, “I just thought—”

She grins, cutting you off, “You do realize I'm wearing a sports bra, right?”

Right. You forgot she just came in from yet another mission. 

Your face turns a shade of red that could give her usual Avenger attire a run for its money. “I didn't... I mean, I couldn’t…”

Wanda laughs, a hearty, genuine laugh, putting you somewhat at ease. “You could've just asked me, you know.”

And before you can process that, with a flick of her wrist and a sparkle of magic, you feel the fabric disappear, replaced by the warmth of her skin. Your fingers freeze in place, feeling the soft flush beneath them.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze. “You okay there?”

This. This is how you die—getting a heart attack with your hand under Wanda’s shirt.

Trying to reclaim some semblance of dignity, you manage a wobbly smile, words stumbling over themselves in a race to get out. “I was just... I mean, I thought... I didn't expect you to be so... efficient.”

Her laugh is soft, a touch husky, doing nothing to help calm the racing of your heart. “Darling, 'Efficient' is my middle name.”

You want to point out the countless times her middle was anything but ‘Efficient’ but that would definitely ruin the mood.

“Good to know. Any other magic tricks you're planning to pull tonight?” you ask with a smirk.

She leans in close, her lips grazing your ear. “Guess you'll have to stick around to find out.”

You both shift, trying to find a more comfortable position on the couch. In the process, the velvet box containing the ring slips from your back pocket and falls to the floor. As you bend down to pick it up, Wanda gets there first, snatching the box away with her powers just as your fingers graze it.

“What's this?” she asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

For a moment, you're caught in an invisible stasis. “I, uh... it's not what it looks like?” you stutter out, though it's clear by her expression she doesn’t buy it for a second.

With a smirk, she slowly opens the box, revealing the delicate ring inside. Her eyes flit between the ring and your flushed face, her playful smile replaced with an expression of tender surprise. “Is this…”

You swallow hard. “Yes, it is. I was... I was going to ask you. Later. After, well, after other things.”

Wanda laughs, a hint of tears in her eyes. “You were planning on proposing after we...?”

Hearing your idea echoed back by Wanda makes you feel slightly foolish. Darn it, Vision.

“Well, the cat's out of the bag now,” you sigh, looking directly into Wanda's eyes, a surge of bravery taking hold. “And honestly, I don't think I can wait any longer to ask you. I really, truly love you. So, Wanda Maximoff, will you marry me?”

Wanda looks down at the ring, then back to your eyes, searching for answers and confirming truths. After losing her entire family, right in front of her is the possibility of starting a new one. A tear escapes from the corner of her eye.

“You had a whole plan, didn't you?” she murmurs, her voice quivering.

“An extremely convoluted and very poorly executed plan, yes,” you admit sheepishly.

Her laugh is light and airy and causes her nose to do that thing you’re so crazy about. “Oh, you...” she trails off, leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, slow kiss. When she pulls back, she’s beaming. “Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. But maybe let’s deal with one thing at a time tonight, okay?”

“Of course, one thing at a time,” you quickly agree. But then, a wave of insecurity washes over you. “But, just so you know, if after we...you know...if you don't find it... satisfying or if I don't live up to your expectations or anything, you can totally change your mind about the proposal. No pressure or anything.”

Wanda looks amused for a moment, then her expression turns sultry. “Darling, trust me when I say that's not going to be an issue,” she purrs.

You open your mouth to respond but are momentarily derailed when Wanda, with one fluid motion, removes her shirt, rendering you speechless.

Leaning in so that her lips hover just inches from your ear, she murmurs, “I want you so bad, you're really going to have to work hard to change my mind.”

Her fingers trace a lazy path up your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine. 

“By the way,” Wanda whispers as you struggle to focus on her words through your half-lidded eyes. “I really, truly love you too.”

After that, words become superfluous. The need to be closer, to feel her against you, overpowers every sense and sensation. And as the seconds and minutes melt away, you find that with Wanda, everything falls perfectly into place.

-

“Just so we’re clear,” you pant out moments later, catching your breath and gazing at the ceiling, “It’s still a ‘yes’, right?”

Wanda's body trembles with laughter next to you, making you grin ear to ear. Before long, you're rolling back on top of her again, ready for round two.

-

The soft lapping of water against the shore serves as nature's own version of wedding bells. Your father's lakehouse, usually a place of quiet reflection and family gatherings, is now adorned with delicate white drapes and soft pastel flowers, transforming it into an intimate wedding venue. 

Steve Rogers, wearing a suit that accentuates his otherworldly physique, gives you a supportive pat on the back. “Nervous?”

“About the wedding or the fact that half the guests could snap me in half with their pinky?” you reply with a nervous chuckle.

“You’ve got this,” he assures you, seeing past your attempt at a lighthearted joke.

As for Wanda, she had never anticipated that half the attendees at her wedding would be dentists, including your parents and a slew of your colleagues. It was a running joke between the two of you; her slight dental phobia up against your chosen profession. But life has a funny way of turning things around. 

Sometimes what we fear the most becomes our strength, and that strength becomes an anchor. And you are hers, as much as she is yours.

[kpopscruggles]

The Urge to Let Go - Anton

Genre - Smut

Word count - 3k 😭

Warnings - Mature Language, Sexual Themes, fembody, SwitchAnton, mentions of alcohol, footplay, cumplay, panty sniffing, receiving oral from both ends (in a car), anton is literally obsessed, jakesim is a vv small character, hint of cheating at the end(iguess),

Summary - Anton decides to stay alone at his family's vacation home for summer break away from college. Deciding one day too head and swim at the community pool he meets you. Holding back the filthy urges he has throughout those two days he soon has a chance to have you...he finally can't hold back the dirty things he thinks of.

lil sequel

He decided to go to the family vacation house instead of spending his summer with his family, and what did that get him? Nothing. Anton was already bored and if he would've gone home, he could've been bothering his brother or even his mom. An average person would just take the shit they had unpacked, repacked, and went home but Anton refused. Looking on maps he tried to find anything that could become a staple for the summer till he went back to university. Cafe? he did not want it, Greek restaurant downtown? highly uninterested, Community pool? He could go for a swim. Looked like the pool was his destination. 

Upon arrival, he paid the simple five-buck fee and walked in. He watched the lifeguards' changing spots so the recent ones could have a break he assumed. Placing his things down he peeled off his shirt before pausing, glancing a bit higher than face view he saw you, your bare back as you climbed up the ladder to sit in the signature strawberry red lifeguard chair. The sunscreen giving your skin glow, the matching red one piece you wore that showed your figure, the sunglasses you put on to hide your eyes from the sun allowed the uncomfortable look to leave your face, a simple anklet shining in the sun, and the gorgeous red that painted the most pretty feet he had ever seen. Letting out a sigh he caught himself and turned away before you could realize he was looking. 

Diving into the water, he felt a small refresh in his skin from how hot it grew under the summer sun and from how he started to blush once looking at you. Swimming around he thought it would relax him, though he could not bear but look at you again. He could feel his body growing warm again; he did not understand why you suddenly had such a strong hold on him. Was it the fact he had not found any female appealing in a while? meaning he had not gotten laid in a couple of months? Was it just the stifling air messing with him? How does the sun make you look? He had no clue. He wanted you; he knew that. 

He began questioning himself, why he was weak enough to think about you in such a way. How he wanted to taste the mix of your skin and sunscreen. Your pretty feet too just run against his now growing package, his cock. Oh god. Looking around he immediately reached for his towel and climbed out of the pool, he needed to leave if you were going to rest up there for a good while. He wished he could speak to you but had no courage to do so.  

He rushed himself to the restroom while drying his hair, he almost felt anxiety creep in as he questioned if you found him weird or seen him watching you. Getting in the opening of the pool he saw the restrooms, walking that was he noticed the cubby wall for the workers to put their belongings. Looking around he saw the concession stand was not open, so no one was in there besides him and anyone who could be in the restrooms. He felt disgusted with himself, but his cock was begging for him to do so, no. No! He was not going to do such a thing. 

"Are you wanting something from the stand?" Anton jumped only to feel his cock do the same when he turned to notice you "I noticed you've been standing here for a while". He nodded because no words could leave his lips, he took a whiff of your perfume as you walked by. The simple coconut perfume everyone uses smelt so different to you. Walking to the concession he looked around; he watched you up close now. Your breasts practically fell out of the one piece you wore. 

"Uhm just a lemonade" he muttered before hearing you chuckle then grab it for him. "Your voice is so quiet" you respond before he watches you take the two dollars from him. Oh, your voice, your giggles, he was already hooked deep. He just smiled back and took the drink, watching you close the stand then head back to the pool area he gulped, turning back to the cubby wall he lost it "Fuck this.". Walking to it he noticed the perfume...the yellow beach-themed bottle with the water-blue words "Tropical Coconut.". 

Once mumbling the words to himself, he snatched the bottle and tossed it in his towel's folds. Once wanting to walk away he then paused one last time, he wanted to take everything, but he could not bear to let himself do such a thing. Walking out he got in his car and left. His heart pumping out his chest, but his cock felt some relief that he had something of yours. The drive home was so peaceful yet the shameful pervert in Anton's head was not afraid to remind him, but it was too weak to change his mind. 

He pulled at the bit of chapped skin on his lips, his throat dry as he stared at the lemonade and then back at the perfume that sat dead center in the middle of the coffee table. His cock still begging to be touched but his brain was still too busy whirling around in circles to even think about how much ache he was in. A filthy pervert. That is what he was or at least what he was trying to call himself instead of a genius for the fact that once he smelt this perfume and stroked his cock, he would not have a care in the world. Holding the bottle now in his hands he looked at the spray nozzle, spraying it above him he took another guilty whiff. The smell now stuck in his nose, he chuckled, this was not a guilty whiff, it was a pleasurable one.  

He sprayed it everywhere, his pillows now drenched in the coconut scent, the kitchen, the hallway, everywhere! Even in the hit shower, it lingered enough for him to grow eager once again. His hands took his cock which caused a hitched sigh to leave him. He chuckled once again at how he finally was going to get relief. He was going to paint the shower walls. 

Stroking his length, he felt a tingle run down his spine, closing his eyes he let his imagination run wild "Oh baby~ that's it.". Moans after moans leaving him as his wrist allowed him to pick up the pace. His hips stuttered as he fucked his hand. "I-I'm going to cum..Shit I'm going to cum!". A whine left him with each rope of cum that left his cock. 

He thought that was the end but smelling it on his sheets could not help but go repeatedly. Loud moans echoing his room at how sensitive he got from overstimulation. Wiping the cum from his stomach he sighed "You return the perfume tomorrow then she won't know a thing.". He had to repeat this in his head before falling asleep. He was not going to let his cock rule out his mind.  

He wished doing such a thing was just as easy as speaking it, he once again faced to face with your cubby. Staring at where your stuff was yesterday, where were your things? For some reason he began to panic, he had to deeply think if he left it there would you think he took it? surely not. You'd think someone just borrowed it or lost it. Placing it in the empty cubby, he immediately turned on his heels and walked to the pool area.  

He felt a shocking pain between his legs as he bumped into someone, looking up that tingle from his dick was now satisfactory to him. It was you, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention!". look at you, so sweet looking while panicking. Holding himself together he nodded "I-It's okay, just a simple accident" He added before looking at the tote bag that struck him. He had to hold himself together and pretend he didn't want to beg for you to do it again. 

"If you were going to the pool, they closed it because a kid got sick" you informed him causing him to nod "You could come with us though, we're going to the lake not too far from here". He couldn't lie, he was incredibly grateful for your friend and what he assumed you thought was her blabbering mouth. Seeing how you weren't too fond of this he felt bad at how needy he was for you and agreed. "Great just follow us." Fuck this was it. 

Anton was now quaking once he got in his car and followed you, he was now going to see you in your comfort and relaxation which didn't seem like much but for him, it was fucking exciting. Once you park, he notices it was a small get-together with friends, and two guys who were already there were pulling the alcohol out of their trunks. Once again though, for Anton, they weren't the main priority. You were his only goal, no matter what it was going to involve you. Getting out he followed you and introduced himself to the others. 

Immediately one person wasn't fond of him, Jake. Jake also was trying to get in your pants; Anton was far from intimidated though. If it was between him and Jake, then so be it. He wasn't going to lose when the prize was to swoon you over. "So, are you still going to be soft-spoken?" you chuckled making Anton smile "I'll try my hardest not to, hopefully, the alcohol will make me a bit louder.".  

Grabbing a beer from the cooler he saw you smile "I can make you loud if I have to" you whispered before taking a beer yourself. Anton was stuck by your words, once again he was growing warm. If only you knew how much you had affected him. Taking a huge gulp of his beer he then sat next to you "You really think so?" he smirked. "I know so.". 

The night went on and Anton could feel the tension between the two of you, the multiple beers you had before sharing a bottle was enough for him to get louder and more courageous for you. He could see on your face that you were enjoying him too. "So, do you stay around here?" the question caught him off guard a bit, Were you that curious about him? Was it a sign that you wanted to go home with him? "Yeah, I'm about ten minutes from here". 

He watched your eyes widen a little before biting your bottom lip. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you did that. "Maybe we should ditch?" his breath hitched at your words. Nodding at what you said he then got up from the picnic table and took your hand. The others were too busy drinking more that they almost didn't notice you two lefts till Anton got the view of seeing Jake pissed. Anton couldn't wipe the smirk off his face. 

"Do you live down here or just for the summer?" you asked as Anton responded with a nod "Yeah, just for the summer. My family has a vacation home down here, so I've been staying here.". He watched you nod as you listened to him, or at least he was. It wasn't until you ran your hand over his thigh "You seem like a sweet boy Anton...kind of wished I would've known you sooner." "You shouldn't let that stop you though, it's only the second day of summer and I could be yours all season if you want.". He meant that and he made it clear as he glanced at you one last time waiting for a response. 

"Yeah? You'd be my all summer? I could do what I want with you?". Anton nodded at every question that left your lips, a shiver running down his spine at your tone. The way you talked to him like a lost dog was enough to put him in shambles. That cute giggle left your lips as your hand was now placed on his growing bulge. "I don't know. You don't seem needy enough. 

Those words were enough for him to pull the car over, which caused you to glance at him like he was insane. Turning to you, he let out a shaky sigh, his eyes now glistening a little from needy tears "You don't understand how bad I want you, you don't know how much I've craved you since I watched you yesterday...I would throw all of my manhood out the door if that meant you'd touch me and treat me like your filthy mutt." This left you in slight shock and he could tell but didn't care. Taking your hand, he forced it to grip his semi-hard cock. "Please...I'll bet my life away.". 

He watched a smirk form on your lips before you leaned closer, running your lips against him he whimpered trying to lean in for a kiss. "If I knew you wanted me that bad, I would've fucked you then and there". "So, make up for it.". Now you both were in shambles once you pulled his lips in for a kiss. His cock now twitched in his swim shorts. 

Pulling away you chuckled against his lips before placing your finger at the corner of his mouth to try and wipe the lip gloss off, it being no use once he took your fingers into his mouth sucking on them while more moans left him. "I bet you love this. Knowing you're sucking the fingers that I fuck myself with." Anton immediately nodded as saliva now ran down the corner of his mouth. pulling your finger away you licked it up before pulling him back in for a kiss. Holding your leg, he brought your foot up to his clothed cock, a small whine leaving him "Please rub my cock~". The closest thing you had ever seen, you couldn't help but oblige. 

"My feet too? you must love everything about me" You chuckled only to see him nod eagerly. Using your hand to pull down his swim shorts you placed your barefoot back on his cock, the precum being smeared with each movement you made. Licking the fingers he was once sucking on you watched him lean back in the seat, brows knitted together, and fingers laced in your anklet before placing a small kiss on your knee. "I-I think I might cum.." Chuckling at his breathless moans I pulled my foot away. "Lick it up" you added showing him the precum on your foot, and he followed exactly what you asked. 

Licking up his precum he then kissed your ankle before you pulled away to crawl into the backseat. Your pussy dripping at how eager he was to follow behind you. Letting him sit you then pumped his cock "You want to cum? Hmm? You should cum down my throat. Would you like that baby?". Biting his bottom lip, he pulled you into a kiss while nodding "Mhm~ please let me cum~". You nodded before taking him into your mouth. 

"Oh shit!" a huff of air left him as you felt him run his hand down your back and slip into your bottoms. You felt his slick fingers run against your anus; he must have licked them. You couldn't help but moan around his cock once feeling him push two fingers in your tight hole. "Anton~" Oh god you were moaning for him, moaning for his fingers to fuck you. Anton was already getting fuzzyheaded at your moans let alone your warm mouth take all of him. 

His hips shuttered causing him to try and apologize but it was no use feeling the cushion of your throat against his begging tip. His stomach tightened, his breathing was uneven, his cock twitched from how much he was holding back. Anton knew he was going to cum at any moment. His eyes rolled back "D-don't move! Oh god!". the whine being the last spoken word before he filled your throat with cum and his bottom lip shivering with every breath he took.  

Pulling away he watched you swallow it before pulling him into a kiss, the taste of his cum and your salvia now sending him into overdrive. Removing his fingers he moved your bottoms to the side "Lay down...". He leaned closer to your pussy, a sigh leaving him as he felt the warm creamy substance swimming through your slit. Looking up at you he smirks before licking his finger only after smelling your sweetness. He was going to devour you finally. 

A gasp left' you once you felt his warm tongue against your clit, his soft eyes looking up at you while doing such sinful acts. He wanted you to know that he was here to please you and that anything you wanted he would easily do. Your fingers ran through his dark hair, tugging with each quick lap of his tongue. "Just like that... you're doing s-so good..." you sighed watching the windows fog as you tilted your head back feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You felt a sigh leave him which only made you shiver due to his warm breath running up your soaked slit.  

"Please cum on my tongue, please, please~" you couldn't hold back much longer hearing his begs for your release, gripping his hair tighter and practically pulling on it you felt your stomach drop and your release rush from you. You could hear every whimper, whine, and slurp from Anton as he licked you clean. Gasping you slowly began catching your breath as you watched him lick his lips clean with a smile "Feel good?". The confidence on his face only made you drip more as you nodded. "Best I've had" Now this had Anton blushing extremely.  

----- 

The summer went by in a flash, Anton was growing eager to come down to his last week and still not being able to be inside your pussy. He'd text you every night praising you more than any man has ever done, but when Anton came to the pool there was just no courage to speak to him. You could easily say the alcohol helped by getting you both comfortable but at the same time drifted you apart once the alcohol was sucked up and put behind the two of you. You could tell it was killing him inside when you acted like what happened didn't at all. He wasn't going to stand for it. 

Waiting for you to close the pool for the day you turned to see him leaning against his car, trying to walk past him you failed as he stepped in front of you "Did I do something wrong? I didn't push you, did I?". You didn't answer and just looked at your feet before backing up at him "That's not it at all I just...It's an awkward situation at the moment.". "How is it awkward? We had oral sex, exchanged numbers, and still text like normal," Anton added while following you to your car, it was no use as he watched you just start the engine and drive off. He was fuming, he felt like he just wasted his time. Getting in his car he went back to his place. 

The rest of the week he was packing his things and pulling his hair out at the fact that he didn't know what went wrong. He also expected that once he tasted you that would be it but no, it was far from finished on his end. Putting the last few things in his bag he knew he was going to see you again; he could feel it. It was a gut feeling he knew he couldn't run away from. He wasn't going to run away either. 

Putting the last shirt away in his suitcase we looked at the swimsuit bottoms you had worn, he washed them and kept them for himself because you agreed he could. Taking them in his hold he sighed before smelling your scent on them still, he chuckled at how mind-boggling it was that was still possible. "I'll never get over your smell". Whispering those few words to himself he then zipped his bag up. Leaving the house he began his drive back to campus. 

Arriving, he was getting a new dormmate, not that it mattered, but he was intrigued. "You are again.", Anton turned to see Jake bringing his things in, rolling his eyes at Jake he went back to unpacking "Awe are you hurt that she left you behind?". Anton turned to him "She didn't leave me behind". Jake chuckled "But she did, Anton hates to spill the news so quickly but she came back with me...She's mine. Anton chuckled "Just because she came back with you doesn't mean she's yours.". 

Anton had no care what Jake had to say because as Jake was blabbering, he got a text from you. A text that made it truly clear who you wanted, and it was him. Anton knew you'd miss him too much just like he missed you. Jake may think he won but like Anton kept telling himself...When it came to you, he was always going to win. 

I'm in town, you should come by my roommate's place, she's gone. 

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 14

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Everything about this, I'm just obsessed with this week's chapter art by @grumpytheunicorn

Rated: Explicit

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

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

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

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

Donnie entered the apartment first. You were close behind him and didn’t linger when he crossed straight over to his desk. He presumably had a lot of work to do both literally and mentally. The last 24 hours had been nothing, but whiplash for him and you didn’t mind giving him space.

He had one copy of the ultrasound photo and you had the other.

You looked over the black and white fondly from where you stood in the doorway. Your entire car ride back from meeting Dr. Kuro had been with a growing thought bubble. It had gotten louder and denser with each mile the car continued on.

You were pregnant.

You were finally pregnant.

You were downright ecstatic and finally allowed the idea to permeate all of your being. Though that was technically already true based on the embryo growing inside you, you were rocked by the chance to enjoy it, but squashed the idea of giggling. You were giving your mate time and tittered in your head. The only physical signs of your giddiness that you let manifest was your heart-shaped gaze at the picture of your bean and a hand that pressed low on your abdomen.

There was nothing there to feel yet, but you felt like there was. It was psychosomatic in your fervor and you currently didn’t care. You vaguely remembered Dr. Kuro giving you the timelines for trimesters, but the actual details of those were packed into the literature which weighed down your arm in what you considered a goodie bag.

Now was a good time to review those and Donnie’s desk would be the perfect place to lay all the pamphlets out.

You looked out toward there and found your husband’s silhouette against sleeping screens.

While he wasn’t using his computer, he was using the space as his hands flew over twin screens that he had laid against the desk proper as if he needed to match items between them. From here you could tell that they were calendars and you bet that was exactly what he was doing. It was his supposed neglect of notating dates that had gotten you to this point. With the many things he suddenly had to plan for, starting them all with the calendar made the most sense.

You let him be, but felt the urge to stay close and chose the kitchen. You had to wipe away a few crumbs, but the counter was soon clean enough and you propped your ultrasound photo up on a higher mantle before going to get the pamphlets. In no particular order, you carefully laid each tri-fold out in a row. There was a variety of details among them and you appreciated each; there was one about diet, one about exercise, one about your prenatal vitamin, one about bowel movements, one about stages of embryonic growth, one about things to expect in your first trimesters, and finally, one made by the clinic about mutant biology.

Dr. Kuro had been clear that the final pamphlet was technically out of date since you conceived.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that pressure. It had been an ongoing dialogue since you started trying to have a baby. Spencer had been the first to mention that if you were to get pregnant, it would be some kind of miraculous conception. Your pregnancy data was considered a valuable scientific marvel and, as much as Dr. Kuro said she was on your side, there was a growing expectation.

The world was either going to stand aside and sadly nod along if you lost the baby or you were going to be named in history books as the first human-mutant parent.

You cared about your child, not some ridiculous accolade.

You had never gone about trying to conceive with anything more than desire to have a baby. 

You had always wanted to live in peace with your beloved mate.

You left the mutant pamphlet and chose the one about embryonic stages. It was a literal action toward your metaphorical feelings on the matter. No matter what anyone tried to do, you were going to keep your pregnancy and everything related to it as average as possible. You were going to go through typical steps and started by observing a close comparison to them.

The growth guide that unfolded in front of you made you smile.

You touched the illustration of a blob at eight weeks and, unlike Dr. Kuro, this picture said your baby was the size of a raspberry. You grinned at that and read the few paragraphs above the picture. It encouraged healthy practices for growth and safety of the baby. From how harped the concepts were, you bet you were going to get sick of the mantra.

Propping up the growth chart right next to your ultrasound photo, you decided to read the diet and exercise pamphlets next. The first mentioned loads of vitamins which you cross referenced against your prenatal medicine. It seemed like everything lined up with the addition of your calcium pill. Your medication was currently being filled. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. who was also due to pick it up later and stop by for the supposed news even though you bet he was already peeping in the apartment.

You studied a list of low impact exercises that also kept you limber and thought about classes. There was a mommy walking group you had seen take off a few times near the gym and you wondered if you could join them. The thought had the notes in your hand loosen as you thought about change.

You would need to introduce yourself. 

You were about to tap an as of yet unknown pool of people. 

Would you need to make new friends? 

Most people found it difficult to keep old friends after having kids.

Something about how interests no longer aligned.

According to what you were looking at, you were going to be a fundamentally different person. Not just physiologically, but time wise as well. All the pamphlets strategically ended at birth and you knew there was a reason for that. There’d be a whole new set of things to learn when the baby came. Children were small helpless creatures that needed 24/7 care. That sort of all consuming attention took away time. You wouldn’t be able to keep up with shows or movies. You wouldn’t be able to eat out at the same places. You would need a sitter if you wanted to go out with your husband.

A tiny life.

There was a dire nature to how much your child would need you, but at the same time it came with the bubbly feeling it had before.

You were going to be a parent.

You already were thanks to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. but he was grown.

You pictured him as a big brother taking his sibling.

Donnie fretting about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s hold even though you knew your son would already have downloaded all necessary guides.

You bet, in that way, he could be a better caretaker than you.

He would also be the perfect pick for a babysitter.

He didn’t need to sleep.

He had all knowledge at his fingertips.

He was basically omnipotent.

You dispelled the thought.

You would talk to him about what sort of brotherly role he wanted to play. 

You decided you wouldn’t take advantage of him no matter how eager he was. 

It took a village, you reminded yourself.

Your friends loved you and Donnie. While none of your immediate friends had kids, you didn’t imagine any of them would hold that against yours. You had a feeling Kaleb would be stoked on how tiny they were and you perished the thought if anyone tried to cross your child with Coral around. You bet she had no qualms with knocking over a toddler bully and again you had to wrinkle your smile to keep from laughing.

You fought giggles by checking the fridge.

Your current stock wasn’t necessarily unhealthy, but you had a feeling you were in for a major switch with Donnie around. While Dr. Kuro  had brought up the concept, he had been clear that adjustments in eating were less about dietary change and more about making better choices. You needed to think about what fed through you and to your growing bean. That meant sweeping through preservatives and other hidden ingredient list items. You would need to grocery shop and Donnie probably had meal prep plans in mind.

You peered over the counter at your husband and found him looking very similarly to how he had before, but at a new angle.

His head was no longer down, but those calendars were still laid out in front of him.

He looked to have forgotten them as he was now looking up.

At first glance he seemed to be looking at the blackened monitors, but his gaze was slightly tilted.

Clipped between the dark screens was clearly your ultrasound photo.

You could see both from his visage and the reflection in the monitor that he was staring at it with overflowing love and affection.

You felt the same and were moved.

You tossed the folded cardstock aside and rounded the counter. Your action was enough to catch his eye and his head pivoted to you. You watched that glowing affection taper off. It slowed your progress as reality seemed to crash around your husband and he returned to adjusting calendar items.

You utterly deflated and stood in stasis just a few feet from him.

It was you then.

Your monumental upkeep to produce his progeny was a distraction.

The negativity of the thought made your eyes widened and you blew out the bitter steam. You weren’t sure where that came from, but you now wandered closer to your mate because you were uncomfortable. He moved little as he continued to take notes and you pressed into his back for the sake of it. A mental levee was lowered and you let your anxiety leak through your bond. It washed over your partner with an immediate effect and he moved straighter against your press.

He was around you in an instant. “Darling?”

That darkened thought sounded again about how he only worried now.

You squashed it with a reminder that he couldn’t know you were upset unless you made him aware.

“A lot to think about.” You chose to say.

Donnie nodded and examined your bundle in his arms.

“I have a feeling I know, but what are you thinking about…?”

“Tasks.” He dipped his beak into your head to bury himself in your scent. “Analyzed by importance.”

“There’s a lot to do.”

Donnie nodded.

Negativity about where you landed on that list rose as bile for a third time and you pushed against your husband’s plastron.

He released you with growing wariness.

“Brain’s bad.” You told him and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

“Concerning.” He supported your elbows cautiously. “I won’t try to understand your position.”

“Hm?” You opened your hands up to peek at him.

“A baby…” He murmured and looked down your body. “The dangers to them, the dangers to you, all that will occur. Pregnancy. Birth. I won’t comprehend.”

“Oh.” You lowered your arms into his hold. “You’re saying you won’t do the whole, ‘I get what you’re going through’ thing?”

He nodded.

“Not what I was worried about…”

He popped a concerned vowel.

“This may sound like a weird time to ask but… you still…” You grappled with the words and found yourself prone to them. “… love me…?”

He lit with so much fear that it burned your finger through your wedding band.

He hoisted you up into his arms before you could complain. 

“Y/N...! Where did that…!?” He gave an animalistic snort to clear his head. “Pardon. Yes. Of course. Without doubt, fail, or interruption. My love for you is endless.”

He immediately soothed you and you felt bad for the bubble of doubt.

You squirmed against him until you could hug his head tightly and buried your face into the top of his mask.

“Sorry.” You mumbled there.

“Don’t be. Reassurance.” He reminded you. “I am alarmed by the timing.”

“How so…?”

“I can only imagine this is connected to insecurity regarding our young?”

“That makes it sound like we’re having more than one…” You lifted from him.

His expression appeared as staunchly troubled.

 You pet his cheeks.

He frowned further.

You kissed his head once and relented with a soft sigh. “It is the timing.”

He made a knowing noise.

You pursed your lip slightly. “Not because I’m pregnant though.”

It was the first time you had said it.

It was the first time he had heard it said.

You stared at each other even though you already had clear confirmation and let the importance of the moment sink in.

He then returned to his worries and his brow wrinkled.

You ran your fingers over the drawn on marks.

“You were crushed when I wasn’t before and I couldn’t help. I was there, but it wasn’t something I could fix…”

His head tipped a little as he watched you.

“I felt… helpless. I know you said I helped, but…” You let your eyes close and took a breath before continuing. “Now we have so much to do for the baby and I can’t help, but think I’m… in the way? I don’t know exactly, but I guess… maybe I’m jealous? That sounds terrible, but…?”

“Incorrect. Wrong.” He blurted out before he seemed to realize that obvious reason wasn’t comforting. “Y/N, this is only possible because of you.”

You shifted in his hold and felt a thought percolate about how you were nothing but a vessel.

He felt your concern and set you down to pour over you. “This is difficult.”

“Yeah…” You scrubbed a hand over your face. “Yeah.”

“I would not be able to entertain these thoughts without you.” He tried again.

You watched him and weren’t sure if that was better.

Distress leaked across his features.

You frowned along with him.

“Okay.” He announced as if to reset. “I imagined my life alone.”

That garnered a bit of a smile. “You don’t have to go that far back…”

“I might.” He relented a little and leaned further into you.

You reached up and caught him for a hug.

He sank further into you and just barely offset his weight.

You giggled against him.

He nuzzled into your neck and nipped at your chin.

It brought more gaiety.

“In no other circumstance would I bring a child into this bleak world.”

You blinked up where your vision had gone to the ceiling.

That was a new take.

You weren’t sure how you felt about that either and squeezed him out from your throat. “Donnie…”

“You gave me hope for existence. That there was more. That I had a hand in its contribution. That our boundless love invites the same. Faith that I could be a suitable father, though I still believe otherwise.”

“I seem to remember thinking neither of us could be good parents...”

He bobbed to slight attention.

He frowned.

His cheeks puffed out the slightest amount then he returned his attention to you.   

“This is difficult.” He complained with more ire.

You laughed.

He lavished in the sound.

“I know what you mean though; you’ve said it before.”

“Reassurance.” He pressed.

“I did ask for it…” You chuffed.

“You are my heart and I want children with no other.” He felt that the phrase was uttered how he intended it and oozed satisfaction.

You were slow in tucking close to him and nuzzled in your praise.

He churred openly.

“Because of me?” You whispered.

“Of course.” He agreed with a similar volume.

“You wanted kids though…”

“No.” He picked you up in his arms.

You tapped him to keep him from carrying you somewhere. “You said…”

“With you.” He had a pout to him.

“Desire for children.”

“With you.” He spoke with some force.

“You have a breeding kink! You knew about it before me!”

“You can have an inclination and not want to act on it!”

That sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it as a quote.

“It’s the taboo. That’s the allure!”

Something occurred to you then that never had before. “Your birth control.”

“What about it?”

“You’ve used it before.”

“Your intention?”

“You’ve cummed inside someone else.”

He seemed ready for further retort, but the thought caught him.

You watched as the memories preyed on him next.

He held you a little bit closer and appeared troubled.

“Your taboo and allure, you’ve-”

“Not the same.”

“With someone else-”

“It’s not the same.” He nearly growled.

“Donnie…”

“You’re my only love. My devotion. I had sex prior to you, but not love.”

“But you…”

“I will explain.” He had obvious distaste for the matter and turned suddenly without letting you go.

You clung to him and he located his chair.

In another rotation, he plopped down into it with you in his lap.

You blinked at him.

He met your gaze and exhaled slowly. “We’ve discussed my previous partners on a surface level, but not in this way.”

“Donnie, you don’t have to-”

“I do.” His eyes flashed a warning.

You made it obvious that you resented his attitude.

He softened some and pleaded with you. “I want to squash your concern. I don’t mind sharing. I am infuriated that a comparison could be drawn. It illustrates a failing of mine. This falls outside reassurance. I’ve failed to impart this importance. Your importance.”

Hearing that, you understood better and settled until you were comfortable enough to listen.

He petted your arm for a while to calm down before he spoke. “Setting aside feral instinct, a creampie has a possessive connotation. Pregnancy can be seen as a form of ownership with a child as a permanent bond.”

Your head lifted where it rested against his plastron.

“I never wished to seize that sort of control. I saw sex as a tool and a creampie was ritualistic success. It was demeaning to the other. A humiliation that they were subjected to by me in conquest.”

“A different kind of control.”

“Right.” He shuddered a little as the thought repulsed him and he adjusted you so more of you was pressed to him.

You spread out your arms to give him more contact.

He relished in it. “Not with you.”

“You wanted me to take all of you.”

“I wanted to consume you.” His eyes closed. “I still do.”

“What else is there for you to have?” You tried to tease.

He didn’t share the levity and dropped his gaze to look at you. “A lot. You get away with much.”

You shrank a little.

“You value your autonomy and thus I do the same.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. I didn’t forget… You were always clear… I just…”

“I am lucky you enjoy my company as much as you do.”

“Donnie!”

“The truth.” He lowered his head to level with you. “I savor our codependency and, were I to have met you even a moment earlier, then I would have gone to nefarious means to ensure a level of it had you not exhibited the same.”

You knew he was right, but tucked into him. “All those times you came in me early on…”

“Inclination without action. How I wanted to possess you. Entrap you. Have you grow heavy with my child. Have you always. Yet there was no chance.”

You hugged him tightly.

“That is not what’s currently occurring.”

You shifted with question.

“Those were early thoughts. Anxious ones from when I hadn’t told you the truth about me. ‘I still do’ is the sense that I will always want more of you, but our child is not a chain. They are a celebration of our love.”

“’Why do anything?’” You repeated something he had said that you remembered clearly. “We’re creating it now because we can.”

“Because I want to do this with you.”

“The ultimate form of creation.” You leaned away.

Donnie’s eyes lit up a little as if he hadn’t thought of that.

“Yeah…” You recalled a bit from his past. “You always wanted to be left alone to work. Having a kid is the ultimate form of that. That’s work. That’s something only you, unique you, can create.”

“With the same of yours…” His grip shifted.

You readied yourself.

He smashed his lips into yours and you drank him in.

You pulled on his mask tails as he almost suffocated you.

He relented at the last dizzying moment and you gasped against his lips.

He churred loudly.

“Love you…”

“You.” He pecked one cheek. “You.” He pecked the other.

“I’m better…” You looked up at him.

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

He shook his head.

“Yes.”

He was vehement and disagreed straight into your lips.

You kissed more languidly and he broke with sugared rumbles.

“I have a confession.”

“Another?”

“Before was for clarity. This will be for guilt.”

You studied him. “What did you do…?”

“For a few hours, I have known something that will upset you.”

That would place you back in Dr. Kuro’s office and you narrowed your gaze.

He shrank the slightest amount and sent his eyes off into the room.

“Donatello.”

“I know exactly when we conceived.”

“Huh!?” You hadn’t expected that.

“Yes.”

“But you weren’t tracking.”

“We learned you are at eight weeks.”

“Yeah…?”

“Eight weeks ago…”

You tried to think that far back, but too much had happened today.

“My… insertion exercise…” He grimaced.

“Oh.”

“That means…”

“Oh.”

“Right…”

“You…!” You sat up straight and sent him a crazed look. “… did not get me pregnant from edging!!”

“Think of the timeline. Exactly eight weeks ago was one of your projected ovulation windows. While I don’t recall scenting it, I wasn’t near as honed. We hadn’t had relations prior. You had been free of cum for a week leading up to and then another after as we abstained from sex due to the resulting rash…”

“I noticed!” You remembered him jolting during your appointment. “When Dr. Kuro said how long, you freaked out because you put it together!”

“Yes.”

“We got pregnant from edging!!” You groaned loudly.

Donnie took full blame and stewed in it beside you.

You belted out more distress before collapsing into your mate. “We tell no one. I’m going to pretend it was anything else.”

“But-”

“No. You can have any other anniversary you want, but this one is off limits.”

He held out for a few seconds before he accepted.

“This is worse. So much worse than me thinking I was unloved.”

Donnie snorted his offense.

“Obviously, not really, but kind of!”

He tipped you so he could overlook you with a dry expression.

You pinched his cheek.

It didn’t hurt him and he leaned into your touch.

“Any other notes while we’re at it?”

“We won’t have the results of your tests for a few days, but I’m inclined to agree with Dr. Kuro’s assessment of your womb.”

“The mutation…?”

He twitched at the word, but still spoke. “I don’t believe you are mutated.”

“Then what?”

“It’s the damned Empyrean.”

You recognized the word even though you could rarely recall it. “The substance that made yokai.”

“That I believe made yokai and was catalyst for mutants. Yes.”

“Sure.”

“As we’ve discussed, my DNA is, in a sense, elastic. The doctor’s reasoning is sound. Empyrean could very easily develop your womb. The properties the fool Draxum added only increase effectiveness of transformation. From what I’ve studied of my own blood, there is hyper cell generation and adaptation.”

“It’s permanent.”

That note scorned your husband. “Y/N.”

“We’re bonded.” You put your left hand over his concealed mating mark. “I have no plans to be with anyone else, let alone have kids with them.”

“I fundamentally changed you…”

“Like you hadn’t already?”

He sulked.

“Permanent scarring.” You squeezed his shoulder.

“Not a positive trait.” He spoke bitterly.

“Donnie you bit me our first night together.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His teeth warned.

You were unaffected and moved into his face so he couldn’t run from your attention.

Weak willed eyes met yours.

“I kind of like it.”

He scowled. “We agreed, no mutation.”

“I’m not mutated.” You spoke his earlier comment with the same candor.

You had him there. “But you are changed.”

“To better have your babies.” You spoke with a sultry sound.

A small peep escaped him.

“How far will the development go?” You leaned into him so he could feel your breath. “How much will our chances of conceiving raise?”

“You’re not mutated.” He repeated the fact as data to keep himself sane. “There will be a limit.”

“You think?” You looked at him up through your lashes.

“Continue and you will need to mount me.”

“Promise?” You ghosted your lips over his cheek.

“Fuck!” He groaned, lifted you, adjusted his legs, and sat you back down all in a way that said he’d dropped right then.

“How long have you-?”

“Your babies comment! I would not be turned on by your misery!”

You chuckled, knowing that well.

“Need you.”

You nodded and kissed him each time your head lifted.

He churred in a desperate boon.

You slid your hands down his plastron and were quick in undoing his belt and fly.

He lifted you and moved his legs again to shove the fabric down enough to free his cock.

It hung out of his jeans in proud attention.

You stroked him once before you hopped off the chair to undress.

He followed up your touch by fisting his length for an impatient pump. 

You gave him a playful grin as you hopped out of your bottoms. 

“Your breeding kink is only gonna get worse huh?”

He nodded sharply. “Say it again.”

You knew what he wanted repeated. “I’m gonna have your babies.”

He openly moaned and stroked himself with more purpose.

You swatted his hand away as soon as you were nude. “One now, more later.”

He squeaked out of his control.

You crawled back into his lap and he slid his hips down to accommodate you.

You got a leg on either side of his thighs.

“As many as we can.”

His teeth snapped wetly as he caught your hips.

You pried him off.

He whined.

“Keep me big.” You put one hand to his shoulder to stabilize yourself and the other down between your legs to line him up.

He popped and trilled.

“This is safe, right? Sex.”

“Yes.” He drooled the word and sucked on oxygen to reason himself. “Yes. No complications. Should be completely safe.”

“Good!” You sank down on him.

He immediately came forward in a bear hug and caught your ass so you swallowed his shaft. “More. More.”

“Make sure everyone knows. Everyone will see how well you bred me.” You lifted along with and he forced you down hard.

You both groaned at the connection.

“I’m gonna be so heavy and you’re going to help me. Dote on me. Take responsibility.”

Donnie quickly superseded your pace and pulled you up and down faster and faster.

You shivered in his arms. “Ah! Parade me around! Knock me up again! Made for you!”

“Mine. Mine.” He started up a few times, but didn’t lose himself to the repeat.

“Angle!” You whined.

He adjusted you and the new placement sent you headlong toward orgasm. “Oh, fuck! Donnie!”

“One more!” He snarled.

“Between us!” You dug your nails into his sleeve. “Baby! Right now! It’s small, but it’s there! We did it!”

He pulled you flush to him and stopped.

You were close and breathing at a quick pace as you searched him.

Your stomach met against the flat of his plastron and he stared down where your chest seamed against his. “Baby…?”

“Yeah.” You slung your arms around his hand. “We’re having a baby.”

“You’re only going to get bigger.” His eyes rolled back and he bounced you so hard the chair jumped.

It creaked as he slammed it down into submission and you onto his cock.

You screamed your mate’s name as you came.

He clutched your lower back tight and spilled his seed deep inside you.

You both held onto each other for as long as you could until you both released withheld breaths.

Rung out and satisfied, you switched from grasping to cuddling and Donnie’s churrs returned soft and sweet.

“What’s hotter?”

He nosed you his attention.

“Breeding sex or pregnant sex?”

He thought about it openly.

“Really?” You giggled.

“Both have their advantage…”

“True…” You kissed his cheek.

“I only have one data point for the latter.”

You felt a tingle in your spine knowing full well how far your mate was willing to go for information.

“We’ll have to find out.” He poured heat into your ear and then kissed you to seal the promise.

💜 NEXT 💜

Through rain or sleet or me writing a sudden 84 page one-shot my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 are just incredible!