#except corsets fuck that noise

[olena]

via WikiVictorian

The Bakersfield Californian, California, October 25, 1925

—

I meannnnn, accurate. & “the grandchildren” think they’re ALL gorgeous.

#victorian #flappers #historical #1870s #1920s #1980s #2000s #fashion #punk #illustration #except corsets fuck that noise #but also you do you if you wanna do that

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 51

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

This is just a taste, read on to see this week’s chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

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

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

Is this another dedication? No, this is an celebration. @mothmans-left-nipple has been leaving gifts my inbox with talk of eating delights and attending to Donnie's every whim and I've had enough! Let's go all out! Let's fucking party!!

You know what that means everyone?

It's time.

🎉VIVA LA DOM DONNIE🎉

Def not forgotten, but huge shout out to @some-guy-named-dominyk for helping me design in mAY OF 2023 HOLY CRAP SO LONG AGO the special something something for ole Donnie boy! 🥳

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

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

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: mentions of heat, menstrual cycle, cunt, talk of watersports, ClItOrAl StImUlAtIoN, pegging, strap on, dildos, harness, lingerie (corset ((not boob kind)), garter, thigh highs, crotchless undies), double penetration mention, womb call, I can't remember if I left the word uterus in there but blanket maybe there too, and a boob tug and roll.

You were awake and thinking about Donnie’s slit.

It wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to start your day, but you weren’t mad about it.

It probably would have been beneficial to both parties if only for one thing.

Donnie was still very much asleep.

Turning your head on your pillow from where you’d been staring at your ceiling, you watched your exhausted partner take slow and steady breaths. With some kind of rush order due, he had been spending long hours in the lab. He’d come home an exhausted mess only to boil himself to some semblance of clean before burrowing into the sheets for a short bouts of sleep. Crunch time, as he bitterly spoke of it, would be short lived, but happened on special occasions. In fact, yesterday had been the last of the three day stint and you’d long decided that today was meant to pamper him.

If only your thoughts weren’t so damn wretched.

You weren’t sure if you had dreamed it, but his leaking orifice had been your very first conscious thought. A needy thing, you very much wanted to help him except you kept having to convince yourself it was your imagination. This was not the relaxing day you had planned and the sleep he was currently attending to should be his top priority.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t fantasize.

Rolling over with care, you settled onto your side to observe him comfortably. He was on his carapace with a few extra pillows propped up so the curvature of his shell wouldn’t impede his comfort. With one arm thrown across his torso, the other appeared to be dangling off the bed. If you were in a better mindset, you might have fixed that for him on the way to go about your day. You would, you decided, when you were done acting out your intrusive fantasy.

Speaking of, you trailed down where the sheets coated him and the prize you sought underneath. Not exactly sprawled in this position, Donnie did have his knees knocked out with his shins thrown awkwardly at two different angles that sleep dictated. An upward sweep said he was somewhere dreamless reserved for the overworked, but you attempted to recreate frustration.

Furrowing his brows and parting his lips, he dreamt of you and having you between his legs. Lapping at his slick and teasing his vent, you tried to decide if he’d cum like that or dropped. Above you he’d surely plead for the latter, but you flip flopped between both scenarios until you decided you wanted to drown in him. Those achy muscles of his unwound and you’d choke as his cock hit the back of your throat. Not gagging, but suffocating on him, drool flooded your tongue at just the thought.

You swallowed hard. 

It didn’t have to be a dream. 

A little touch wouldn’t hurt. 

He needed to sleep. 

Closing your eyes around guilt, you squirmed at how one daydream had already soaked you.

The imagined him ghosted your ears with tells of your neediness.

He took care of you like it was his predestined duty.

It was supposed to be both ways, but you always jumped the gun.

The imagery had you hopping onto his cock and making him cum before you simply because your walls felt so good.

Eyes shooting open, you nearly screamed.

You felt like you were in a heat of your own.

You needed to remember what you were doing this for. Resisting the urge to flee, you meant to commit the piously unconscious version of your partner as a cleansing memory. This was the real him. This him needed rest. This him had no duty to make you cum. This him could use a couple of useless cucumber slices over his eyes, a warmed towel wrap, a jacuzzi, and your face smeared with his cum.

You sat upright.

Cursing your brain, you especially berated it for making the scenario a confusing one.

Were you supposed to have been blowing him amongst the bubbles?

It was continuity errors set aside for horny and you gave a tepid sigh.

You were up and you needed to get away before you jumped your poor boyfriend.

Sleep.

He deserved it.

He’d earned it.

You’d let him have it.

In a duck, you were under the sheets.

Feeling mad and thinking with your cunt alone, you maneuvered downward like a kid trying to sneak screen time after bed. A pale purple curtain trailed overhead and messed your hair until you came upon his thick thighs. Plump with muscle and accentuated by his shapely plastron, he had an unfair hourglass. Throwing praise to his busy job for having made him crawl into bed without dressing, you trailed down the purple pixels on his sides in a slow creep.

Rational thought defeated, you were moving on raw instinct. Some sane part of your mind sent off warnings that were immediately drowned. It turned what was left into a foreboding sensation that pounded along with the ache in your belly. You had a molten core that demanded satisfaction whether that be yours or his. One of you was going to cum soon and that was a fact.

Maneuvering straight off the bottom of the bed to readjust your trajectory, you pulled the top sheet free from the rest of its corners. It was now a magician’s veil and the dove released from the top hat would be rated for mature audiences only. Something ran on late night skin channels of yesteryear, you crawled back onto your stage between his legs.

The only barrier being his folded footless shin, you pushed at the stump of it knowing guiltily that the nerve endings there were faulty. It meant you could touch the appendage mostly unnoticed and you listened with each agonizing centimeter to see if your partner would stir from the movement that connected the rest of his leg. Cursing that you’d left yourself covered by the sheet, you couldn’t watch his face. You had to rely on only his physical cues and that wasn’t something you were as accustomed to.

Trapped and unable to actually uncover as winter chill would wake him faster, you got his knees properly in place and waited to be pulled from your den. A gopher ruining a crop, there had to be a snare according to your sheeted nerves. Your shield, your undoing, the torturous weight of the inevitable never lifted even past the point where he would have signaled wakefulness. You were prompted to continue then, steal forward more time and more of him, when you realized how’d you positioned yourself.

Something you knew moments ago, the feeling of being caught had run your blood pressure up and kicked your memory with fight or flight. Now endorphins confusingly sputtering, you stared down the crux between his legs where they were flopped open. An inviting corridor, his tail was just barely visible and positioned like your daydream.

You could taste him.

You licked your lips.

Inching forward and drunk on the memory of his musk, you gazed eagerly at the soft skin between his legs. Covertly hiding that slit, it was unmarred jade that hid away a buried palace. Reaching for him and only just barely not bumping your shoulders to his thighs, you drank in the natural scent of his body. Not the one you were sure to build up soon, it was instead something patently him and a reassurance that he was there with you.

Consent.

Your consciousness was still buried, but it surfaced long enough to scream the word.

He’d taken you like this before.

You’d also been awake long enough then to give permission.

You wanted him like this.

You wanted him malleable. 

You wanted him without complaint. 

Without thought. 

Something for you. 

He couldn’t say yes.

He would.

Wasn’t that worse?

Lips parting for the swell of your tongue, a pulse between your legs sent a ping of abashed desire.

You wanted to pilfer him.

You wanted to sneak a taste.

He’d always given himself over so freely.

What was the point if it was easy?

With the smallest dart, you licked the tip of his tail.

Chaste in comparison to what your mind was doing to him, you imagined hearts in your eyes at the texture of his skin. That faint mark of scales dragged on your taste buds and you ventured forward allowing your tongue to skirt along the appendage. Around you the beast did slumber as you skirted forward with held breath. One puff would awaken the dragon and by the time you reached his apex, you turned your head to tap the guarded well.

Your hands were trapped between your chest and the bed so you clawed into the sheets to restrain yourself as you traced his slit carefully with your tongue. Not for heat, but for its epicenter, you imagined you could feel the moment he’d wake up. You wanted to know how he’d go about punishing you.

Would there be some intangible resolution?

Those thighs you adored could crush your head in an instant.

Would he fist your hair and pull your weight up by it?

You felt phantom tension in your neck as you rounded his entrance for the third or fourth time.

Would he kick right into his caretaker mode and fuck this dastardly heat straight out of your mind?

Where were you in your cycle?

In a small squirm, his slit moved in a motion akin to a wink as muscle groups rolled along one another on the body’s track.

You stilled, tongue sitting heavy on your lower lip as your wide eyes stood frozen pools staring at his sex.

This was bad.

You were bad.

Rotten.

Polluting his unsullied form.

Then it clicked.

He was still asleep.

Surging forward with too much zeal and drinking in the terror like your last before cut off, you shoved your tongue into him.

Licking and catching little as he hadn’t been worked up, his body rolled around you. You persevered if he tried to buck you off, not that you could tell where exactly his body’s move was headed. If he wanted to free himself, you sort of figured you’d be transported away by his thoughts alone. That was probably within his power, but he soon settled around the intrusion with your nose shoved into his pelvis. 

Scrubbing your face into his warmth like a freshly laundered towel, it warmed your cheeks as you ate him out. Pulling away with shaking breaths where you were neglecting yourself in favor of him, it felt as though all your muscles were tensed in his direction. Even your toes were curled, trying to find a foothold in the bed where your forward momentum was equally and oppositely exerting force. You needed more of your mouth on him as the first strings of acidity began to multiply. Through your own saliva, it meant his desire was building and you did your best to push your tongue as far into it as your irritatingly stunted human appendage would allow. You needed something long and not of conventional means to achieve what you really desired, but you settled for what you had.

His walls pulsed around you and, where a mixed leak of fluids was smeared, it coated your cheeks and flooded your nose with the smell you’d once been concocting. Trapped with it under the blanket, you sucked it in greedily each time your nostrils came away from his skin and you rocked your chin into his core for taste after taste.

The loose nature of sleep or maybe your own delusion meant you didn’t realize he was dropping until his glans hit your tongue. In a second, it was slapping your face and you were forced away. Blinking at his manhood on your cheek, you gave a restrained huff of laughter. Fondling and nuzzling the stickiness of his length, you pressed affectionate kisses to him until you felt his thighs quiver.

Sensing that trap you fantasized about, a rush of adrenaline said this was finally it and you screwed your eyes shut for the reveal.

A new and equally irritating form of edging, nothing happened and you cracked a lid.

The shiver had been a spreading as you had more space for your body then you did before. He’d splayed, much like he’d been forced to during his heat, to accommodate his member. Loving him all the more for it, you couldn’t stand the unknown any longer and mouthed his length affectionately as you drew back the veil.

In a slow roll, you pulled the sheet free of him and felt a confusing mix of emotion as fresh air flooded you. It meant the musk of his sex had been released, but you siphoned the new oxygen all the same. High off the supply, you gazed up the bottom ridge of his plastron to Donnie’s face. Laid to one side, there were little creases to his expression just as you imagined. Nowhere near as titillated in comparison, you palmed his knot and took his spaded cockhead into your mouth to see if you could draw them.

A delay from the tablet to the screen, the input time was relatively steady still and his face twitched with foreign ecstasy. That dreamless wasteland he’d been resting in was wavering under his form and you moved to stroke his member. A single pump brought his lips apart and his snout wiggled with a heady twitch. He was adorable to a fault and you swirled your tongue around his glans.

The bouncy bit that could spread undulated in your mouth and you imagined that expansion was coming very soon. Not something you had ever charted, his spread was an inevitability and you never thought it could be a telegraphed moment. Now faced with the chance to document it in real time, you were struck with an understanding of Donnie’s penchant for research.

Not only was your mate’s mind endlessly fascinating, but his body too.

Heart now aching along with your core, you gave a testing suck to see if you could coax his spread out. The stretchy nature of his skin said you could and hollowing out your cheeks you meant to.

“Y/N…”

You froze. 

It was small.

Impossibly so.

A pitiful size.

Easily missed.

You.

He wanted you.

From the void, he’d asked.

Who were you to deny him?

Hoisting yourself up, every fiber of you only knew his cock. Leaving it physically meant nothing as it was etched into your cellular design and the blanket that had since been seated on your shoulders fell away like some needless cowl. Tossing it aside for the true battle, you extracted yourself like a chieftain from a throne and moved to show why he’d chosen you to fight. You stood in a show of battle. 

Your right foot pressed into the mattress beside his hip and the weight tipped his body.

His brow said it was too much so you stepped with your left to the other side and steadied his ship.

The course corrected with the faintest whine, you towered as the impending dock before mooring him with a drop of your hips.

His cock slid right into your soaked core and the moan off your lips was obscene.

It also roused him.

Not caring, you dug your knees into the mattress to get height before dropping heavily back down his shaft.

His breath stuttered as he tried to cross the barrier of consciousness.

Fucking him with a new ferocity, you watched his eyes roll against his lids.

These were waking sensations he had clearly never felt before and you bounced so hard against him the entire bed creaked.

“F-fuck…!” The lines on his physical curtains were drawn too fast and the shades of his lids slammed open before his pupils could focus.

“I-I’ll s-say!” You added a roll to your ministrations.

“Y-you…” Fighting for his life, a hand brushed one of your legs as if touch was his first sense back.

In a few more paws and against your furious thrusts, he locked onto one hip for a crushing grip.

Catching his hand and digging your nails in as a warning if he dared to stop you, you moved for a deep grind and it sent him partially back to that dead space you’d roused him from.

Mouth gaping with unsaid words, he gave a series of grunts before clarity drew out the true noise you imagined his hindbrain wanted.

He gave a deep sultry churr.

It brought the whole of your torso down upon his while continuing to relentlessly bounce your ass. You couldn’t reach his face with yours at this angle so you settled for your hands and squeezed his cheeks. It finally placed his gaze and you saw a form of betrayal as that beautiful brain of his began to put two and two together.

A whiz at math, he caught your other hip with painful accuracy. Instead of hindering, he aided and lifted you higher than you could alone. Knowing it would sting, you tried to get yourself upright as he lifted you right up to the barrier of his spread before letting gravity skewer you. It wrangled a scream through the burn and happy tears streaked your cheeks at the branding.

Wanting to be impaled again, your hands flew to grab his wrists in some sort of indication. He read the ley lines printed on your palms and lifted you up for what you thought would be another delicious drop. A coaster with an unseen bend, he held you in the air with suspense before he slammed his hips up into you against physics grip. Screaming rapture, he plowed your floating form and the pinch and brunt of him filling you over and over felt like he was fucking your heart straight out of your chest.

Dropping suddenly, you felt your body force the ballooning of his knot inside only for the wrench to make the final turn on the hydrant. Dousing your fires, you gnawed on your own fingers as euphoria had them tangling up your form to keep your skin in place. Not even sure if your peak had been reached in a conventional sense, his had a telegraphed cool down and you slumped a happy slack above him in what felt like a propped pillow.

“Y/N.” His voice came stern with post-nut clarity.

“Yes, love?” You responded, dopey and half-lidded.

“What…” He dug one elbow into the bed with a shove. “…was…” The other came down on a rock that got him upright. “…that?” He breathed hot irritation into your face.

You pecked the very tip of his snout.

His nostrils flared.

You gave him another tiny kiss.

Tilting away from your lips, he took to scenting your neck with a latent grouch. “You smell good…” 

“Can I be in heat?”

The leading of his nose stopped and he craned an incredulous brow at you. “Not with a regular menstrual cycle.”

“Huh.”

“Your breath is atrocious.” He caught your chin and tipped you side to side. “What’s come over you?”

“Don’t know…” You cooed through a haze.

“Inhale something?” He sniffed again as if he could place it.

“Like what?”

“Sex pollen?”

Part of you very much wanted to know what that was, but the other that had been reigning all morning won out. “No.” You giggled as he nosed your throat. “Just want you.”

“I can tell.” He spoke. “Recap.”

“Woke up, wanted you, sort of-” The brunt of what you’d done doused you like an iced bucket. “Um…”

Where he still had your chin, he brought you to look at him.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, hoping to curtail your morning breath. “I… I messed up…”

His exhale had a gruff edge. “Are you alright?”

“Me?”

He nodded.

“Besides the guilt…?” Your gaze dropped to where his ever-softening cock was still seated in you. “Donnie, I don’t…”

“I’m okay.” With a little bounce, he pulled your eyes back. “I’m alright. You have retroactive consent. Do you hear me?”

“Yes…?”

“I’m more interested in the mechanics.”

“Mechanics?”

“How’d you mount me?”

“I ate you out first.”

“You-” He stalled with bewilderment. “How long?”

“I don’t know… I was sort of stupid horny.”

“You performed oral and…?”

“You dropped and said my name.”

“I spoke?” A levity attached itself to his words.

“Yeah, a sleepy mumble.” Nerves were rapidly exchanged for butterflies at his raising disposition.

“That is…” He broke eye contact to search the air. Finding nothing, he returned with intrigue. “Then you?”

“Got on top.” You nodded.

“Which then…” Catching up with the present, he gave a new impressed chuff. “Fascinating.”

“What part…?” You felt his cock retreating and it brought your hands to his shoulders.

“You may not have realized…” He eased you a little as he exited. “But I am a very light sleeper. I was nearly ambushed many a times in my youth. Quick waking is paramount to survival.”

You made a noise as that made a sad sort of sense.

“I feel I should be more concerned.”

“But…?” It sounded like he was leading though he’d made a clear stop.

“But I’d like to brush my teeth.”

“Oh.”

“And take my turn.”

“Oh.”

“Mind?” He twitched one of his thighs as a signal for you to get off.

“Uh, yes. I mean, of course.” Throwing your weight to the side, you meant to fall, but he got hold of you and made your dismount more elegant.

Leaving you to give a satisfied squirm in the sheets, he took leaping steps toward the bathroom and the curve of your spine disrupted his spent. It trailed between your legs and a flighty noise caught in your throat.

“Wait, Don?”

The tap was already on and he gave a full mouthed grunt that said his toothbrush was already in his mouth.

“I should wash up. I’m kinda leaking… you, ya know?”

His head shot out of the bathroom door with foamy lips. “An’?”

“That’s…” You stumbled wondering if it was a problem; to most guys it was.

He seemed satisfied with your revelation and returned to his task.

Laying back, you wondered if it was strange. In theory it wasn’t, you both usually gulped down each other’s bodily fluids without second thought, so why was it so odd to taste your own? You’d tasted yourself on his lips more than once and, though it wasn’t something you chased, it wasn’t like it grossed you out. Instead, it was usually enhanced with the thought of where he’d just been and the act itself of kissing him was always a pleasurable one.

While your mental debate stalemated, your partner emerged.

Jarring as his existence interrupted the candidates at their podiums, you waffled to get into a better position. It amounted to little in the time allotted, but you watched him slow as you got an elbow behind you to prop you up. It angled your body down where you let your legs fall open to see the sight of what he had done to you.

He glanced at your core with a flick of his pupils before coming up with a near comedic air.

You pouted and slammed your knees together. “What?”

“You needn’t do anything.” As he neared, he parted the canopy to place his hands on the edge of the bed as if he might crawl up.

“I want you to want me…”

“I do.” Instead of walking forward, he extended his arms to their full height.

“No, like… I want to feel sexy doing it. Like I’m doing something.”

“You are.” He was just shy of laughter.

“I’m not making sense!” You groaned and let yourself collapse.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!” You felt like kicking and screaming. “More sex!”

He gave into a chuckle. “I meant…” He caught your ankle and, in a rough tug, he pulled you right up to the edge of the bed.

Your heart skyrocketed and you stared up at him with appreciation.

“My teasing.”

“Yes, I get it! I’m walking perfection in your eyes. I know!” You shook your head.

“I understood your intent.”

“Yeah, I just said it.”

He gave a playful growl before releasing you in favor of slamming his fists down on either side of your hips.

You squeaked as you bounced.

“You want to be a showstopper. You want to take my breath away. You want to make me drop at a glance.” He towered over you with burning intent.

You stared up at him. “Oh… You…”

“Understand.” He insisted.

“So when you said…” You ran back through the conversation though your sex flexed a protest. “…that you do… You’re saying I don’t need to now.”

“Yes, in this instance.” He dipped down and you thought he might kiss you. “There is no need, but that doesn’t mean your ability is stunted otherwise. Do you want to know the last?”

“I’d kind of like to be on your cock while you tell me.”

“Salacious.” He grumbled heat and came down to nip at your cheek.

You giggled and turned into him which he pointedly shirked away from. “Seriously!?”

“I have standards.” He rose out of your breath’s reach.

You puffed out your cheeks and nudged your body down to grind on him.

He caught you. “Story first.”

“A short one.”

“Yes.”

“Hurry…”

He gave a put-out sigh before smiling. “Two days ago.”

You diverted some thought to the occasion.

“You were running late to work. Your clothes wrinkled and you’d missed the top button on your shirt.”

You gave him a confused look. “I thought this was supposed to be a ‘drop on sight’ moment?”

“It was.”

“You-!” The protest stopped as his casual response sunk in.

“In a rush, an otherwise mess…” He openly reminisced and his eyes rolled with delight. “Mine.”

“You didn’t say anything…”

“You needed to leave.” He came down from cloud nine with sweet tidings.

You squirmed, needing him more.

“As I said. The power is yours and you command it well.” He reviewed you with growing pride. “Now you’ve been very good.”

You bit your lip to keep from asking for a reward.

He smirked in a way that said that was the right call and swept down your body for a set of measurements on how he was going to go about taking you.

Thinking you were a step ahead of him, you wiggled your ass in a show that it was at the edge of the bed so he could eat you out over the side.

His chin dropped, indicating that he might, but a concurrent thought brought his lids up. “Another ride?”

“Yes, clearly.” You shifted your hips at the ready. 

“Focus.” He flicked your forehead.

You held the spot with a grunt.

“Me. I’m asking if you’ll top again.”

“I can.” You blinked lackadaisically.

“The night I first churred…” He gave your thighs a squeeze before jumping up onto the bed.

This time you timed his bounce to right yourself.

He rounded you on all fours before throwing himself onto his carapace. “When you rode my face.”

“I got you.” You moved beside his head and readied to throw a leg over.

“A little different.” He brought a hand up to stop you.

You waited with a frown.

“Patience.” His lids came down with joking disappointment.

“You don’t need to explain it, just shove that tongue in me.”

He turned onto his side to pinch you. “You had complaints about consent moments ago!”

“Old me. Don’t care.” You tried to pretend like his fingers hadn’t stung. “Go, hurry.”

He gave a loud dramatic sigh and flopped back down. “Fine. I want you to sit on my face and time it. Suffocate me. I want to push the limits of my held breath and in exchange you’ll get as many orgasms as you’d like.”

The explanation alone was enough that you spun around to grab your phone.

He gave an amused chuff.

You got a stop watch up before a small thought bubbled an incessant worry. “Wait… What if I don’t know when to stop?”

“I’ll momentarily lose consciousness.” He shrugged and adjusted his head at the ready.

“Donnie!”

He flicked his gaze at you. “I’ve suffered worse. Come here.”

“Promise you’ll be okay.”

“I doubt we’ll reach that point. It was meant only as a possibility.”

“Donatello.”

“I swear.” He turned to you. “Now take your damn seat, you heathen.”

Cunt clenching, you moved back into position and this time he helped you along as you straddled his face. Adjusting for the angle, you wanted to descend just right while he clamped onto your thighs as his safety bar. Chewing your lips in preparation, you had just about gotten yourself where you wanted when his brow furrowed.

“Dearest.”

You hummed a question, looking down your body at him.

“Sit.” He breathed heat and yanked you down.

Straight onto his tongue, your head rolled back for sweet relief. Licking into you, you rolled your hips to chase him and felt the odd contrast in his freshly brushed teeth. It meant the lingering mint mixed in for an odd icy hot burn that you thought you might get addicted to.

Grounding down to cut off his nostrils as he requested, you faintly tapped your phone where it was loosely clutched in your hand. Immediately abandoning it as he tasted you, your belly throbbed with need. It still wasn’t enough so you caged his head tightly between your thighs and exerted as much force to squeeze a little more ecstasy out of him.

It came with increased ministrations and a loud rumbling moan that rolled into an eager churr. Having angled his snout near your clit, the vibrations shook there in a mock sensation of a magic wand and you cried out at the thought. Muscles in your ass already spasming, he brought you to a near immediate climax and tongue fucked you straight through it.

Instead of falling forward like gravity wanted, you protested with carnal desire alone and threw your hands back to grip his plastron. The hold was a strange one, but it meant you had new leverage on your hips. Using it all along with a manic grind, you found you could shove down with more than your body weight and earned another euphoric moan that had you clenching on that sharp tongue of his.

Curving it into you, it couldn’t quite reach where you hoped, but that didn’t make it any less. Riding his face as if you were trying to stay on a mechanical bull, you rocked the entirety of his body. He navigated you with a seasoned diver’s accuracy and dug his nails into your thighs to brand the moment with little crescents. You’d think of them fondly later as a second peak blanketed rationale.

Feeling everything keenly, he let go of your legs and you might have protested had his hands not dipped under your ass. He dug his thumbs into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and with a jagged drag he split you farther open. It sunk him those few little centimeters deeper and he held there.

Delirious tears forming as another orgasm neared, he prodded your backdoor with one digit and the subsequent unraveling came with a full body spasm that caused it to breach you. Wobbling through a soprano, the sweep of fluids leaking from you spattered what felt like everything below your legs. Whether it was mixed with his saliva or all coming from you, it was enough lube that his finger sank into the first knuckle joint and he pressed it towards where his tongue was buried.

Lightning shocking your body as you swear you felt the connection through your innermost walls, you screamed out his name with no indication of why. It was a call of what he did to you, had done, and would eventually do and he answered it by continuing to make good on his promise. Only wanting to make you cum again, he slowed only to ease you off your current orgasm before ramping right up to the next. Now timing it with a finger in your ass, the dual pump had you rolling back into both sources of pleasure and your next orgasm came without any true indication.

Now on an ever-present high, you drowned yourself until your jaw dropped and drool poured down your face just as slick soaked the bed. A stream with two outlets, it melded an ocean whose only desire was to drown its sole occupant. A man not bothering to swim, Donnie sank. Suffocating his mouth, filling his nose, and presumably taking his vision as the whole of his face was firmly wedged between your legs, you felt a weary pinch and burn that dropped like a stone in your mind.

Your bladder.

It ripped terror through you and though you’d settled firmly on not giving a shit about him eating his own cum, you weren’t about to suddenly piss down his throat. A flex warned how imminent such an act was and, in a flurried jump, you were off of him and into the bathroom before anything could happen.

“Why!?” You heard him rage from where you’d left him.

Shuddering from sweet release, you slumped against the cold toilet as he gave a single bang on the door.

“For that!?”

“Donnie, come on!” You cleaned yourself up and threw the door open only to have your phone thrust in your face.

“First.” He shook the device that read a tidy 23 minutes and change. “I could have gone at least 10 more minutes and second!” He removed the barrier so you could feel the brunt of his displeasure. “I desire the whole of you. I do not care!”

“I appreciate it!” You yelled and pushed past him. “I, however, wasn’t sure!”

His snout wrinkled with protest.

“Not of you!” You waved your arms to dispel him. “Me! I’m allowed to have reservations about new things!”

He gave an irritated sound at the truth of your statement even if he didn’t care for it.

Reaching the bed, your actions caught up with you and your knees wobbled. Steadying yourself against the mattress, you listened as Donnie washed his hands. The rush of water reminded you of what had just occurred and you glanced at where the two of you had been on the bed. Your imagination a reality, there was a clear soaked spot that was carved out by your knees. An imprint of your joining, you chuckled at it and felt a needy pulse of your southern muscles. “There’s no way…”

“What?” He was right beside you.

You jumped and he steadied you. “You-!”

The angered heat was exchanged for another you watched him take your scent in.

“I’m still turned on.”

He nodded, eyes lulling at the smell.

“Can you tell the difference between me and this?” You gestured around, imagining your last session clung to the air.

“Yes…” He surfaced with only a crack to his lids. “You smell better.”

“You keep saying that…” You licked your lip. “Do I smell different than usual?”

“It’s good.” He came into your space and butted his snout against your neck.

“You're repeating yourself.” You instinctively went to hold him. “May I got into something?”

“Did you?” He asked with licks to your skin.

That need you summoned him for grew. “Don…”

“I’ll take care of you.” He husked, nosing up to your cheek before his snout wrinkled. “Brush your teeth!”

“Piss drinker!” You shouted the double standard in his face before going to do just that. 

“One does not have to have a proclivity to be open to the concept! Just as I’ve had the passing desire to mark you as my territory, there doesn’t have to be action! It is devotion!”

You slammed on the metaphorical brakes and your hands came up for two very obvious stop signs even though you’d already executed. “No. No, no, no!” You spun wild eyes around at him. “We are not going to brush past the part where you just said you wanted to pee on me!!”

“Mark-ing.” His lip curled as he slowly enunciated as if that was something different than how you’d described it.

“Nope!” You turned heel and continued back toward the bathroom. “No. No. No. No. No. No.” You continued to pop the sound with a new and different inflection each time until you reached the sink. “You get teeth brushing or that. Not both!” You snatched your brush up, flicked the tap, wet it, and smashed the bristles while applying paste.

Donnie appeared a looming presence behind you. “Then you’ll be delighted in mine listing of the safe bacteria in healthy urine versus the utter filth that proliferates in one’s mouth!”

‘I’m not listening!’ You hummed the words through foam.

He began listing scientific names for what had to be bacterial strains while you loudly hummed to drown him out.

You both continued to increase your volume in time until you spat, rinsed, and turned on him with the most deafening scream you could muster.

He quieted for only a single moment of rage.

“You’re lucky I’m so irritatingly turned on right now because otherwise I would beat the shit out of you! It’s still on the table, but maybe I’ll just fuck you into submission!!!”

His entire body twitched.

It dropped your guard.

His eyes at their widest stared back at you and the faintest squeak interrupted the otherwise silence.

“Oh.” You tilted your head.

His cheeks exploded with color.

You reached out and pressed a pausing hand to his plastron to keep him from leaving.

His eyes squeezed shut as another pathetic peep caught in his throat.

“Donatello…” You cooed.

He cracked an eye open for you though it looked like he was boiling alive.

“Look at you…” You traced over his pectoral scutes. “You really have lost control, haven’t you?”

He parted his lips for what looked like a protest, but only a breathy exhale emerged.

It betrayed him further.

His expression grew miserable.

“All those emotions.” You dotted over his heart. “All this yelling. Unlike you.”

He had a faint shake to him.

“Why didn’t we think of it?” You parted your lips knowing the plump would hypnotize him.

His gaze locked onto it.

“That I could take care of you? Make you forget. Like you said. I have the power.”

That wobble became a little more furious.

“What do you say? I really want to. Especially when you’ve turned such a pretty color…” You stepped into him, your body nearly flush to his.

The back and forth was distinct in a way that you could tell was a counterbalance.

Tracing over him with growing understanding, you heard him give a wrung out noise as he looked away with repulsed shame.

You continued down his body to where his hips were furiously swaying with the wag of his tail.

“Come.” You held out your hands and he kissed you so hard into the sink you could already feel the bruise. Turning a whimper into a moan up into him, you moved against each other until he needily tugged at you. He drug uselessly at your body and you knew he wanted to lift you, but you refused to help. It amounted in him becoming more and more frustrated until he broke the lip lock to send that feeling down to you.

You were waiting with a cocky air.

“I’ve made something.”

“I have something for you.”

You stared at one another before trying again.

“You do?”

“I’m sorry-”

Lids dropped with irritation, you both made an annoyed noise at the overlap.

Lifting your hands up to show you would abstain, he urged you to go with a curling of his digits.

It amounted in a third stand off where you groaned out of it. “Same time!”

“That is what got us into this predicament in the first-”

“Let’s exchange at the same time!” You cut through, exasperated.

“Ah.” He liked the idea enough to take a step back. “What room will you need?”

“Pit stop in the bedroom and then here.”

“That works.”

“Okay.” With an agreement set, you both exited the bathroom. Donnie went to busy himself by his nightstand while you went to the dresser. Shoving straight into the familiar stack of winter clothes, you quickly located the ugly holiday sweater and the garment box wrapped within. Pulling it out and tucking it to your chest, you checked to find your partner with his back a calculated turn away. “I’m going!”

He heeded your call with a nod and you tucked yourself into the bathroom. Behind the closed door, you heard him move, but ignored him in favor of getting your lingerie set on. The corset being the easiest part to snap into; you marveled at how it was your exact measurements. It was a horrifying sort of incredible that only Coral could achieve. Not actually wanting to know how she’d done this, you wrangled the garter belt and got lost amongst the straps.

It took some time working out the logistics and having to unhook the thigh highs as you forgot the underwear, but you eventually donned the entire set and looked at yourself in the mirror. Without enough room to back up and see the entire ensemble, you jumped to view as much as you could. The glimpses shot powerful inoculations of confidence in you and by the time you were moving to look down the length of your body, you knew you would be successful in your surprise mission.

Knocking the wood of the door to signal your exit, you called your partner. “Don, you ready?”

“Y-yes!”

His stutter made you pause.

Maybe this wouldn’t be as alluring as you’d hoped.

He could very well be the one who gave Coral the measurements and it tinged your mood.

If this was another of his creations, a thing he desired to see you in, that was one thing.

Coral was something else entirely.

Running a digit along the plastron-like bottom of the corset, you wondered if this shape was something he actually preferred.

Something you couldn’t give him.

That feral side of him would never wholly be able to give itself over to a human.

That part of him was turtle.

Was it always a little dissatisfied with his choice?

A fuck was a fuck and it could be settling for second best.

All you knew was you weren’t sure.

You could also easily find out.

Shoving the negative feelings down and scrounging the powerful ones you once had, you opened the door.

Across the room, Donnie was facing your side of the bed. His scarred carapace in full view, he was hunched over something and sat a vision between the parted gauzy drapes of the bed.

“All suited up.”

He jolted, but didn’t turn.

“Don?”

“I…” He hesitated in a loud way and you heard him squeeze what sounded like wood. “I have a history with leather.”

“Good thing it's not.”

His head lifted. “You’ve put something on.”

“That’s what I said.” You took a few steps out and his interest helped bolster your momentary lapse. “How do you feel about silk and lace?”

His neck rotated the slightest amount and his tone held admiration. “That…”

“Wanna see?”

“I’m having second thoughts.”

“Oh…”

“Not about you!” He very nearly turned and to prevent it, he slacked back over whatever he had. “This. This here.” The bed creaked as he pushed down on the object. “I don’t know why I bothered…”

You were in motion and next to him where you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever it is, I bet it’s amazing because you made it.”

He glimpsed you with a quick flick to just catch your face. “I suppose we’ll see…”

You squeezed him reassuringly. “I had my own hang ups about mine. They happen. Let’s let each other decide, hm?”

He sighed, trying to blow away his concerns. “Yes.”

“Countdown?”

“From three.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

You stepped back to put yourself on display and Donnie turned with a wooden box in hand.

He very nearly dropped it and had to scramble down to the floor to save the object. Catching it in time and with a quick survey to make sure it survived the fall, he turned awe up at you.

You did a little anxious strut. “Ta-dah.”

“What…? Where…?” Setting the box safely aside, he was entranced as he rose and moved toward you.

Readying yourself for him, you watched as he traced the lace detailing up to the corset.

“The shape.” He had a smile on his face.

Not a lusty heat, though it was partially there, he was more amused by it and that made your heart soar. Leaping to accommodate the organ, you jumped him and pulled him into a kiss of desperate gratitude.

He garnered your hips to pull you back and nuzzled your cheek. “Were you honestly worried? You are a vision. Stunning. Dazzling. Ravishing. I have a thousand and more descriptions.”

“It… I sort of thought… maybe that you…”

He nudged you a last time with his snout before retreating enough to watch with an encouraging gaze meant solely for you.

You softened at it. “That you wished I had… a shell... or something.”

You were hit with a puff of air from him snorting.

Your hackles rose.

“I’m sorry.” He failed to cover his lips from a wrinkling smile. “I-”

“Donnie!”

A laugh escaped him, loud and bright.

“It’s a real concern. I don’t know!” You thumped your fists to his plastron.

“It’s not.” He covered your hands to hold them in place and dipped forward to kiss you.

The intensity nearly bowled you over and translated something deep.

“Only you. I only desire you in your true form. No tricks. No broaches.” He pressed his forehead to yours.

You nodded against him.

“Hm… I suppose if you were to mutate then that would be your true form…” He pulled away with the thought and it was the way his pupils flicked up to the top right that told you this was the first time he’d ever considered the option.

A small bout of fear ran its course as you worried if you’d mistakenly planted the idea.

With a single shake, he tossed the idea away before you manifest true worry. “No matter. My feelings the same though my body would require an adjustment period.”

“Oh?” You squeezed his hands.

“Sudden change can be difficult for me to process.”

You stole a quick kiss.

“Soothed?”

“Yes.”

“Carapace…” He chuckled to himself.

“Don’t tease me! I was worried!”

“Am I making light?” He stepped away to examine your outfit.

“Just… why would your turtle half… I don’t know… Want me?” You did a twirl within his hand.

Skimming a digit down the side of your corset, he had a fond smile. “Turtle half? I may refer to different states of myself as such, but never that.”

You squinted.

“My mutation is a unified front. I am unique. I want you.” He traced the lace at your hip.

That you understood. “You’re you.”

“Yes.” He grinned with what was at first appreciation before it dipped mischievous while his fingers followed a strap right into your soaked folds. “I do enjoy this ensemble immensely. Especially this.”

You shuddered, legs spreading to accommodate his touch.

He stroked and kissed down the side of your head. “Might I persuade you to make this your staple undergarments?”

“Defeats the purpose…” You replied breathily.

“Easy access.” He bumped his head to yours.

“Hey…” You touched his arm to stop him. “Distracting me, what about your thing?”

He froze.

“Donnie…” You craned your neck away to catch a glimpse of him.

“Impulse!” He spoke with a full retraction of his form and took a few steps away. “Nothing more. Nothing we should concern ourselves with!”

You hummed, unimpressed.

He robotically retrieved the box. “I’ll just store this. Or destroy it. Both. One. Or-”

“Tell me honestly: Do you actually want to table this or are you embarrassed?”

“I’m… fine.” His eyes flew from side to side before landing on you. “Fine, yes. That’s the one.”

It was your turn to laugh.

He inched away as if he thought you were distracted.

You quickly crossed over to him and put a hand to his arm. “You are a terrible liar and that wasn’t even what I asked!”

“It wasn’t…?” His expression cracked.

“No!” You giggled. “How have you gotten away with being fiendish all these years!?”

“There is a difference between an outright lie and twisting the truth.”

“Wanna take that question again then?” You tilted your head up at him cutely. “For me?”

His eyes held a certain betrayal before he gave up and lifted the box a little more toward you. “Do you recall when I lost our wager the day you commanded me?”

In a blink you did. “Yes.”

“I was… inspired…” He gestured for you to follow and he placed the box on the bed.

“Which part?” You came close, studying how the wooden square was constructed. It struck you as similar to his furniture so you imagined he had built it. With no obvious door, you imagined you needed to slide a panel to reach the contents.

He held out a hand for you to see for yourself.

You gave his arm a final comforting squeeze before going to open the box. Testing the corners, you found the top panel did slide and inside there was a huge purple lump. An odd thick cylinder, you lifted it up with both hands. Coming into the proper light, it almost looked like a non-tapered dildo with a pale purple shade that seemed demure compared to its size. Thick beyond comprehension, it was equally long and didn’t have a distinct head. Instead, the base was solid and the opposite end puckered into a hole. Testing a finger against it found a plush interior with ribbing that brought your eye over to Donnie. “This is...?”

“A combination sex toy built for my anatomy…” His voice wobbled.

You turned the hefty toy over. “So this goes in you and then you go in this…?” You demonstrated sticking a finger into the toy.

He nodded, his face ablaze.

“You’re so sweet…” You set the toy down before coaxing him to you.

He came with a faint nervous whine.

“Shhh… This is wonderful.” You peppered kisses along his cheeks. “You’re alright. You want me to use this on you?”

His gaze plummeted and he headbutted into your chest in a comical bend for his size.

You cradled him close regardless. “We can go nice and slow, but… I’d like… I want to make you feel good.”

“I was supposed to take care of you.” He mumbled into your torso.

“Sounds like you're trying to twist the truth out of this…”

His body flinched with guilt.

“Mhm.”

“I did… craft you a strap.”

“You did?!” You pulled away with what you quickly realized was too much excitement. “Sorry…”

“No… I’m glad you like the idea… I am… I-” He grit his teeth as if it pained him before turning around to reveal his wagging tail. “I despise this incessant thing.”

You couldn’t help but skirt the appendage. It slapped against your palm and you felt the telltale excitement leaking down it. “I think you'll grow to like it. This guy knows. Let me change your mind?”

All of him stayed still save for his tail.

You kissed his forearm. “We’ll go so slow. We’ll stop if you need. All the usual.”

He peeked over his shoulder at you.

You stared back with an open question.

He frowned and flicked his head away for another desperate whine before he stormed over to the dresser. There he extracted a tangle of black straps and shirked his size in approaching you.

“Why don’t you put that on me? For control and because I don’t think I can without mixing up everything else I’ve got going on.”

That earned you the faintest bubble of mirth and he knelt down in front of you.

Taking a wide stance so he could get between your legs, you watched him methodically go through the process to strap you in. With one long bit going over the top of your ass and two separate supports cupping under your cheeks around each leg, there was a large plate of sorts covering your mons. Feeling a sturdiness that you imagined came with rock climbing, Donnie left, murmuring something, before he returned with the toy.

“Problem?”

He shook his head and you loved the way his cheeks flushed.

“Wanna share?”

“If…” Adjusting buckles and a ring, he worked on getting the toy added to the strap. “If.. this…”

“Feels good?” You offered.

“Adjustments.” He got the word out and gave a sigh where he had to lean his head against your leg. “I'll make adjustments. For your pleasure. An added mechanism.” He grunted. “I haven’t explained the tech yet...”

“Take your time.” You pet his head. 

“At the time, I was only interested in the logistics. What did a design for me look like? A wholly new problem to solve. My only focus: could it be done?” You heard a button snap and watched as he slowed. “What came to fruition was without further thought. Not of… use or otherwise.”

You stroked down his cheek and his eyes closed momentarily.

“I should have considered you. You gave me the idea.”

“I did?”

He turned to look at you against your palm.

“I mean you said I inspired it, but now you make it sound like I told you.”

“You did. Something along the lines of…” He took a steady breath and his gaze flicked to the past. “’Can you cum like this without dropping?’”

“Which you weren’t sure of…” You remembered the way he shook his head then. 

He nodded.

“Wow…”

His gaze lowered to the toy where he made more adjustments.

“If there was further thought, what happened when you were done?”

“I made the box to lock it away.”

You stared until he released the toy and watched how it hung.

Not satisfied, he moved to further fix it.

“Donnie.”

“There should be a pleasant weight for you…”

“Don.”

“Frustrating…”

“Hey…” You tapped his head.

“Not even in the strap.” He turned up his self exasperation to share. “I could have easily added an insertion point for a smaller toy or something for clitoral stimulation!” He clicked his tongue. “No, I added a self-warming feature.”

“Warming?”

“Try.” He released the toy.

You felt a weight that comfortably pulled at your hips and reached down to brush it. The smooth surface had that same bounce, but now there was a distinct skin-like heat to it. “Woah…”

“Stimulated through use.” He griped and leaned back on his haunches.

“Donatello.”

“Yes?”

“Have you tested this at all?”

Instead of a full twitch, you saw one of his fingers involuntarily move.

You knelt down and felt an odd adjustment in having something dangling long out in front of you.

He looked you over in a wounded way. “I… may have left yet another truth out.”

“Where?” You tilted your head with a knowing weight.

“Beta testing clearly comes after prototype… However…”

You rested a hand on his leg.

He stared down at your digits. “It seemed pointless to use without you. It seemed equally improbable that I could bring it up.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Wearing the strap I created after having had the same impossible considerations.” He chuffed.

“Silly.”

“Quite.”

“Is it self-lubricating too?” You stood and held out a hand to him.

He hitched on the idea with a half raised appendage so you scooped him up the rest of the way. He allowed himself to be led over to the bed where he mumbled aloud ideas for the next version.

You tied back the canopy as he made mental schematics and then urged him to sit while you got your lube. “Don, what’s it made of?”

“Silicone.” He gave a quick response among many others.

Checking the level of your water-based solution, you brought it over and passed it to your boyfriend. Having since gone silent, he cupped the container between his hands as he continued to think. He was the perfect warmer, you thought, as you rounded the bed to gather up the pillows. Whacking yourself only a few times with the toy as you were still getting used to its extension, you created a big fluffy barrier right behind Donnie before rounding to stand in front of him.

“I should take notes.” He told you.

“Nope.” You stood with a lazy smile.

“I’ll forget?”

“That a question?” You cocked a brow.

He grimaced. “No…?”

You pushed a finger to his scutes. “Lean back.”

“But-”

You gestured.

He had to look to see you’d created a comfortable prop for him. He returned with an appreciative, but meek shrug and then anxiously leaned into the pile. Needing only a minor adjustment, he got into a comfortable lean and you bumped your knees against his.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Want to stop?” You caught his eye to translate your severity.

“No…” His gaze fell.

“Think you can look at me?”

He shook his head.

“You want to watch the toy?”

You got a nod.

“What if I’m not ready to use it?”

His eyes shot to yours.

“We need to work you up. You’re so tense.” Picking the toy up so it wouldn’t hit him, you held it away as you leaned in for a kiss.

He gave you one with wound nerves.

“You’re okay. You’re going to know everything that’s going to happen before it does.”

He nodded and the next press of lips was a little more lenient. Eating it up in a near literal sense, you chased him for cautious presses until you felt him languish against your mouth. It was then that you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip in question and he answered by pushing into yours with an ache you knew all too well.

Pressing to him for the intimacy meant the toy wedged between you. Against his lips, you found he didn’t seem to notice it on contact. Finding that a good sign, you only broke away when he had thoroughly liquified before you started pressing targeted kisses down his jaw. Lounging in your attention, his head fell back into his prop and you laved at his neck. Tasting his churr on your tongue, you eased toward his shoulder at the same time as you pressed into the flat plastron around his belly.

As if activating some unknown mechanism, his legs fell apart and you ate up the real estate. Shifting out of the side saddle, you were afforded more closeness and you made it clear your hand was going south while your teeth were heading to refresh your mating mark. He gave an anticipatory chirp that you translated as a go ahead.

Fingers skirting the bottom of his plastron, you made him well aware that you were heading for his slit as your lips dragged over your crescent claims. A few agonizing squeaks sounded beside your head and you teased his entrance at the same time you bit down into his shoulder. Your honed chirp emerged loud and between your jaw and hand, you soon had him a chirping and churring mess.

“Need… Yours… Again… New!” He got out through stunted chittering sounds.

“You will.” You extracted and swiped your tongue over the blood. “Soon. You can do it very soon depending on how good you are.”

He squeaked his interest as you scissored him open and he bucked.

“Look.” You nudged his chin with your nose as he always did to you before extracting your hand from him.

He gave a whimper that returned his human speech. “What…?”

You showed him his slick on your fingers by stringing it between your digits. “Look how ready you are.”

“Ready.” He mimicked, a little lost.

“Mhm.” Having to break contact with him to find the lube bottle. You located it, warm, from where it had been tucked under his thigh. “So good. You’re so good.”

“Y-yeah?”

He hadn’t responded so easily to praise before and you gave him a quick eager kiss for it. “Very.”

His eyes rolled back amongst a breathy vowel and he edged his hips at the ready.

Soaking the toy and stroking it to warm it back up, you casually bumped the tip against his slit in the meantime. He twitched at the ready with each brush, until you felt the heat of it come alive. Knowing everything was ready all around, you probed a little extra lube at his entrance before turning your attention up to him. “Ready?”

His body lit with a fresh wave of anxiety that swirled across his lusty features. He managed a nod against it all.

“I’ve got you. Any time, all the same stops that we use for me, okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“That’s it.” Looking down to make sure everything was aligned, you pressed the tip of the toy inside him.

“Big…!” He tensed up.

“Yup. So it can take you. Relax…” Having to wipe a hand off and saying a silent apology to your thigh highs, you caught his appendage and threaded your fingers. “I’m right here. You took both our hands before. That has to be as thick as this.”

He gave a faint nod.

Giving him time, you rocked only an inch or so the tip in little barely breaching pushes.

Less for his body and more for his mind, it took a lengthy amount of teasing until his muscles smoothed back out once again.It was only then that you felt confident enough to enter him further. The next inch you gained came with headier churrs and you took it as a good sign to keep going. His fingers clenching yours in rhythmic flexes to remind himself of your existence and you held him tight as you rocked deeper into him.

New sensation for your hips, you mentally praised his ability. Not only his stamina, but the precision he was able to garner around what was essentially a semi-rigid rod. Sure nerve endings played a huge role in that, it still felt impressive as you were having to gauge his reactions as he did you. Feeling very much like you were on the other side, you felt a drive to satisfy your partner. That mixed with one of plowing him senseless, you understood why he loved to draw out the process.

Surpassing a quarter of the toy’s shaft, you stared intently at Donnie’s face as you imagined you’d be nearing his cock soon. A squirming, chirping mess, he hiccupped noises that you imagined signaled he was close to dropping. With no indication of flexed muscles for you to check with, you searched him to see if there was any sign of him holding back. Besides the squeeze of your hand, you didn’t see anything apparent until he let out a sudden scream and you lurched forward, sinking all the way into him in a quick snap.

“Too much!!!” He screeched, tears pricking his eyes with horror.

“What happened?! Are you hurt?!” You were in a backswing when it happened, but it felt as though he’d sucked you in.

Only squawking in response, he fought against you for an upward lift that immediately had him hissing.

“Woah! No! No!!” You wrenched your hand free of him and caught the top edge of his plastron. “You can’t pull out like that! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Too much!! Too much!!” He cried openly with his mouth twisted in horror.

“Donnie! Donnie!” You tugged, trying to get him back into place. “I can pull out, but you need to relax. I can’t move!”

He shook his head a vicious side to side.

“Please, Don. Listen! You need my help, but I can’t like this. I know it’s hard. Please!”

He let out a frustrated whine and you felt his heels dig into your legs.

A sharp force from both the house prospectic and that one hind toe, you felt terrible for all the times you’d done it to him. “Please!”

He caught your shoulder and immediately dug his nails in.

“Ah! Stop!”

“Y-you!”

“I can’t!!” You shuffled in place where you were firmly buried. “I’m stuck!! You have to listen!”

More shaking ruffled the sheets.

It took a few tries with him doing everything ro hold you at bay, but you eventually let him cleanly claw rivets through your shoulders just to get free and slap his cheeks.

He jolted with shock though his eyes refused to focus.

“Donatello!!!” You pulled hard, digging your nails around his jaw.

He surfaced with clenched teeth and a whine like a creaky stool about to break.

“You have to get back into position. Lay back or else I can’t pull out. Can you hear me?”

He dry heaved.

Heat pricked your gaze. “Please, Donnie. Please!”

“Oh-Oh.”

“Donnie?”

“O-!” He spasmed.

You held his hand as he tried to thrash, but the movement clearly pained him. It caused him to contort to a near violent degree and you whispered that you were there for lack of a better phrase.

“Oh!”

You hummed along with him, at an otherwise loss.

“O-ver!”

You blinked wide. “Over?”

“O-!” He choked and ground his teeth.

“That’s-! I didn’t realize you were trying to talk! Over what, Don? Over what?”

“St-!”

“Almost!”

“Over-stim!” He roared with a lurch and a bitter slack that he fought with each second.

“Over-stim…” You gasped. “-ulated. Shit. Uh.” You ran your gaze over his twisting form in a flurry. “You need to… You can…!” In a wrangle, you captured his hands and pulled them close. “Something distracting… Something…” Having held his quaking fingers to your chest, you parted the pair. “Donnie, do you remember? Silk? It’s smooth, right?” In a back bend of both your wrists, you placed his hands at your waist, around your corset. “Remember the feeling?”

Another weak whine, his fingers tried to clasp and spread over the fabric.

“It’s smooth. Silky. Feel?”

He hissed like a snake as he went for a firmer grip.

Stroking his forearms as encouragement, it took what felt like hours as he soothed himself running his digits up and down the purple fabric. By the time he quelled, his weight came down with a sudden heft that the entire bed tipped. Your nerves shot nearly as high as the mattress and you were left without a thought as you had no way to stop the action. It thankfully countered itself with gravity and clanged back onto its stand with Donnie only giving a minor grunt at the movement. “Don…?”

He gave another stunted sound.

“Are you alright?”

He had an exact timing of the up and down with his breath.

You figured it was still too soon to interrupt it. “I’m here.”

“Know.” He got out on an exhale and you squeezed his arm in time.

Stroking soon turned into a palming and when he clutched your waist, you animated knowing he’d reclaimed a part of himself. “Hey.”

“Hi…” His voice came quiet.

“What can I do?”

“I…” He sucked in a greedy breath and then let it out slowly through parted lips. “Didn’t… account for… too much.”

“What happened?”

“In me, on me.” You felt one of his fingers draw a circle on your back through the corset.

“In you… The toy… On you… Oh, how your dick inside?”

“Suction.” You felt him test the clapses on your top.

“That’s what pulled me.”

“Too much.”

“I bet. Don, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and you realized he was counting each metal hook in a rhythmic repeat.

“We can’t stay like this forever...”

He arched an irritated brow that said he knew all too well.

“By suction, do you mean it's like sealed?” You looked down, afraid to test with your hips.

“Feels like it.”

“If we angle it then the seal would break, but that would mean...”

He gave a vague nod.

“You okay?” You touched his plastron.

He exhaled roughly. “Coming down.”

You stroked a pressure against his scutes.

He relaxed a modicum under underhand.

“What does it feel like?”

“Too much.” The words came out of him fast before he made a little annoyed noise. “Unlike the last.”

You tapped your understanding.

He seemed thankful for it. “I’m overly filled. It’s foreign and uncomfortable. Like lead.”

You focused all your attention onto your hips to keep them in place as you leaned up to him.

He did his own minor adjustment as he folded to meet you for a kiss.

“This okay?” You asked after the first chaste brush.

“Distract.” He mumbled, capturing your lips for another.

Cradling his neck with one hand and with your other a further stabilizer on his thigh, the two of you kissed a comforting weight. Imagining it as a ballast for the buoy inside him, you deepend the maneuver to balance the scales. Concocting a heat from what this act usually led to, your bodies operated on muscle memory to drink one another in.

Your desire flaring, you tried to break from him in fear that you’d pantomime a familiar rocking of your hips. He chased you with heady chirps and churrs that stirred you all the more as you couldn’t resist him. Leaning more heavily into you where you were scared to move, he dipped his tongue in to taste you and you were further coaxed as he filled your mouth. Entendre layering, you created a suction to keep him in place and he chased the feeling.

The bend of his body caused something to shift and in your mind’s eye you watched a girder split clean in half.

Donnie broke from you with a rasp and drool as his cock dislodged from the toy.

Knowing what that meant, you scoured his torso for his hands.

Grabbing them, you squeezed one another to hold on as you began to pull out.

Ruined, your partner chirped a string of sounds that sounded like an alarm bell going off. 

“I’ve got you...” You soothed. 

He flexed his hand and almost crushed yours.

“Almost there…”

With the spit he’d cropped up, he gave a soaked squeak.

“Hold on...”

His thighs rippled around your hips.

“You’re doing so good, Don.” Hitting that familiar quarter mark, you imagined his cock was about to be freed.

His legs locked around your back and smashed your pelvis back together.

Not able to verbalize your surprise, you arched into him and he belted out that honed chirp.

A pause lapsed where you listened to his heaving breath before you swiftly pulled to that same point before slamming back in.

It renewed his flow of tears and commingled with the other fluids leaking around the obscene expression on his face.

“Good!!?” You chirped your delight. 

He gave a delirious nod that could have been the bobbing from your thrusts. 

It spurned you further, fucking into him and soon abandoning his hands for his large hips. Two dense walls of muscle, you scooped under them and, in a feat that must have been executed on pure adrenaline, you hoisted him up to thrust deeper. A devolving heap of rolling pitchy sounds, he shredded the sheets trying to hold onto something. His lower body arched into you and he threw his shoulders back hard, crushing the pile of pillows in a way that made you think they might burst into feathers.

Body screaming around the many labors you were unaccustomed to, you shoved them all down in favor of your partner. Your outfit drank your sweat, clinging close for a stickiness that was mirrored by your partner’s similarly spattered skin. It was a plea from your flesh to stay together while the act unfortunately dictated movement. A heavy squelching, different than yours, cropped up and you looked down only to be hypnotized by an elusive nectar.

Each stringing drop felt like thousands of wasted dollars as fluid dripped from Donnie. The roll of his pelvis stretched the soft sopping skin and you loved the way it clung, hungry, from each backstroke. He didn’t want to let you go and with each renewed entry his body thanked you by devouring you. A lower mouth suffering massive dehydration, it guzzled you down and spilled its soak as in its desperation. 

The push and pull as something of the sea, foam cropped up in the form of the mixture growing paler by the second. Each push shoved more of his slick out and replaced the pearling said pre-cum was drowning out his lubricants. That meant his orgasm was closing in and the thought launched your gaze up to where you’d been neglecting your partner's attention. 

Donnie sat in shambles above you. 

Arriving a ship into the eye of the storm, he seemed to sense your attention and brought his eye down to stare at you above his gaping maw. A flash photograph trapped you in the moment and your hips stalled at the sight of him committing you to memory. He only mewled, his tongue rolling drool in his mouth as indication that you should continue and you buried yourself in a lunge to kiss him. He gave it with strings of saliva, another bit of him refusing to let go. 

Your retreat stung, but it was necessary to square your hips.

Anticipation sent his head back and, in a roar of exertion, you felt your vision slip as you did your best to jackhammer into your much larger partner. He cried from some unseen place and through your daggered grip on his thighs, you felt his winding. Not letting up for a second, your feet slipped in your stockings which caused you to further scramble into the thrust. You were rewarded, maybe one stroke too many, as he went dead silent before his body coiled.

A python’s constriction, he lifted clean out of your hold and caught your arms up in the wrap of his legs. Caught and crushed, the spasms rocked the both where you imagined there was nowhere else for him to go. The encasement inside matched the one out and his voice appeared within a freefall. Realizing he’d been crying out at some level above your hearing range, he rasped down from his orgasm with your name until his twitches evened out in an appeal for him to go slack.

His sudden dead weight was entirely too much and his legs became two-ton stems that tried to force you out of him. Scrambling free yourself as that would be too much too soon, he squeaked out in pain as you bobbed inside of him. Pushing deep to make up the lapse, he choked against his thoroughly taxed cloaca. The lengthy sex hitting you in a similar way, your head fell forward onto his plastron where you panted in a cropping pool of your own sweat.

Catching your breath, you heard Donnie give a wrangled trill that asked a sort of question.

Either a worry for you or something about your next action, you palmed his pectoral scutes to hike yourself up. “How’s the suction?”

He nodded and nudged your hips. 

“Alright, it’s going to be a lot. Ready…?” You drew out the sound to silence as you caught the base of the toy to hold steady as you extracted it.

You felt the venom in his gasp as you freed yourself and stepped back enough to examine how the item had fared. Glistening from his many juices, you had had a tilting hold and were rewarded as you stood the toy up to find it filled like a cup with his semen. Quirking a smile at it, you found more dripping out of your partner in thick globules. Donnie’s tail flicked irritated as the cum used him as a landing strip to escape to the floor.

The first weighty plop gave you an affectionate chuckle before a few more plunks summoned a groan from your partner.

“How’re you, sweet guy?”

He bleated dramatically to translate how disgusted he was with himself.

“Aw, don’t be like that...” You cooed as you slipped out from between his legs and approached him from the side.

“Lay down?” He managed. 

“If I go down, I’m staying down. I can already tell.”

He made a sound that wondered what was wrong with that.

“There’s still me.” You used your free hand to skim his arm.

He tensed under the touch before his muscles gave back out.

“Water?” You wondered, pulling away to let him rest.

“I’ll die.” He whined and extended one of his to fall a heavy weight over his eyes.

“I’ll get you some when you come down more.” You offered.

He didn’t exactly respond and instead made a decompressing noise.

Gazing over your work fondly, you were definitely going to use his fucked out form as spank bank material and went to review your strap. Not wanting to waste his cum, you stroked the wet device to keep it warm and looked for buckles. Finding a way to loosen the contraption, you went through the lengthy process of stepping out of the harness all while keeping the toy at a pleasant temperature.

Legs jellied, you sidestepped and nearly fell into your nightstand when B.E.D.F.A.S.T. clipped your vision. The machine would certainly help you stay upright and you looked upon it with the fondness of an old friend. “Darling Protocol-” You paused and turned to Donnie. “I haven’t had to say ‘Bypass’ in awhile.”

He gave a pathetic nod that was more a scrub against his forearm. “Superfluous.”

You hummed a thanks before resuming your course. “Darling Protocol B.E.D.F.A.S.T. on my command.”

The machine sat its usual silent, though you knew it was ready.

“Mark, support bar, horizontal.”

An arm extended out of the panel and stretched out at the ready. You grabbed it and used it to hoist a knee up onto the bed before you found a fatal flaw.

With the machine hanging over the head of your bed and Donnie hanging off the far side, you couldn’t enjoy the show of him while wrapped up in B.E.D.F.A.S.T.’s tendrils. 

“Mark, can you move the bed?”

With a clicking chunk of work, six arms soon emerged all at the ready.

“Out...” You stepped back to get a better view perspective. “Mark, let’s try… say three feet from the wall and to the left, out of the way, if you can reach.”

Taking a moment for what you assumed was some unseen scan, the arms went to work latching onto the bed at various points. One even steadying the canopy, the bed was gently pushed and Donnie immediately made a noise of protest.

“You’re alright.” You told him. “I just need some room.”

“Why?” His question was so exhausted it almost didn’t sound like he wanted an answer.

“I told you.” You walked in the space appearing as the bed moved out of your way. “I’m gonna take care of me.”

He twitched in a new way that you read as recognition and B.E.D.F.A.S.T. stopped before its task was complete.

“Donnie.”

With several grumpy grunts, he forced his arms to his sides where he struggled to get the strength to prop himself up.

“Darling Protocol, lock out user Donatello from B.E.D.F.A.S.T. programming.”

For a moment the stillness made you wonder if the command had worked.

Then ire began to pour off Donnie and he used it to get himself up on obviously quaking stems.

You watched him with a lazy smirk. “Mark, resume earlier command about the bed.”

“Y/N.”

“You can watch.” You passed him a glance before examining where B.E.D.F.A.S.T. had moved the mattress. “Mark, rotate it until I say.”

“Y/N!”

You held out a hand to stop him as B.E.D.F.A.S.T. slowly spun the bed with some unknown knowledge that you wanted Donnie to be in better view. Stepping close to the panel so you had the right line of sight, you waited until you could see his leaky tail. “There. Stop.”

Giving a single loud chuff, Donnie put a lot of effort into some type of move that amounted to nothing.

“Mark, move with me to pick me up.” You held out a hand and B.E.D.F.A.S.T. took it like a dance partner. “Don, you’re too far gone. Enjoy the show.”

“I don’t want to watch.” He spat immaturely.

“You can barely sit up, dear.” Following the steps, you lifted one foot and B.E.D.F.A.S.T. came to caress the heel. Twirling up some unseen staircase, your pace was matched with forming platforms. 

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You shook your head as you walked yourself into the air.

“With your right hand?” He bitterly clarified.

Though you knew, you looked down to where you were rhythmically squeezing his toy. “I was going to use this.”

“It’s too big.” He stated the fact with a sharp air.

“So? I don’t have to put it in for it to feel good?”

Irritation got him straighter. “It’s mine.”

“Oh...” You looked to where the bouncy feel held an odd realism in your palm. “You heavily implied it was both of ours. Wasn’t it useless to use without me?”

“I changed my mind.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“Come here.”

“No.” You laughed as B.E.D.F.A.S.T. wrapped around your ankles and waist. “I’m sort of in the middle of something, pretty literally.”

“You can easily leave that something.” His body shook with the action, but he brought a hand up to beckon you.

“Rest!” You played up rolling your eyes. “Mark, take this, keep it warm by stroking it, and don’t spill.” You held up the toy which B.E.D.F.A.S.T. quickly took and implemented as a pumping attachment.

“Don’t.” Donnie warned.

You glanced over him and with his wiry form. He was too weak to hold an ounce of menace and you had long lost the ability to fear him. “Yeah, sorry,” you shrugged dismissively and rolled your shoulders into place. 

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. was there to catch you as if laying you down with intent. 

You heard a heavy slap of Donnie getting his feet to the floor.

You lifted right off what should have been the final formation of the machine and it balanced your move by tightening around your waist. It gave you easy support to watch your mate wobble pathetically. “You’re going to fall and I’m not going to help you.”

He grunted a dismissal and dug a hand into the bed to keep his form. “Your doing.”

“Nope! I’m not feeling guilty! Not one bit!” You refused to watch him struggle and went to fall back into B.E.D.F.A.S.T.’s embrace.

Plodding steps picked up speed along with your heart rate. 

“Mark, block!”

You winced and heard Donnie puff with anger. Forcing your lids up, you found Donnie cuffed where he was inches from grabbing one of your feet. 

“Mark, don’t let him touch me!” You grinned wickedly.

Donnie tried to beat the machine, but B.E.D.F.A.S.T. grabbed his other hand only centimeters from your skin. “Release me!”

“No! You’ll stop me!”

Donnie yanked, but B.E.D.F.A.S.T. held. “Y/N…!”

“Oh... That’s good...” You murmured. “Mark, put me down...”

Your boyfriend’s eyes shot wide at your sultry tone. “What is this...?!”

You were a little shaky as your feet hit the floor, but you ducked easily out from the mechanical arms. “Mark, trap Donnie. Pick him up and hold him like you would me.”

“You-!” Donnie got out before the machine went to work. He fought to flee, but with his hands already bound, B.E.D.F.A.S.T. quickly caught his legs and dragged him in. Not really kicking or screaming in a literal sense, Donnie growled complaints as he turned to face away from the machine and to you. You cocked your weight into one hip to watch as he was soon lifted off the ground with restraints buckling around his wrists, biceps, waist, thighs, and available ankle. A weaving metal entangled into his prosthetic for the final limb and there he writhed in the little space he was afforded.

“Hey.” You approached his form as soon as you were sure he couldn’t get you.

He stopped to glower.

Realization clutched your throat. “Oh… Are you okay?” You looked over him with growing worry. “That might have been fun for a second, but you being restrained is probably trigg-”

“Put me down!” He bellowed.

You blinked slowly and wiped the spittle he’d sprayed on your face.

Flicking your hand free found him smirking.

“I felt bad for you...” You stewed, trying to keep the anger off your face.

“Best saved for someone else.”

“Noted and fuck you!” Your expression broke manic and you took the few steps over to the bed. “Or wait, better yet? Fuck me!”

He tensed with realization. “Don’t you dare...”

Skirting the spot he’d been in since it was soaked through, you fought against what was left of the sheets and pillows to form your own back rest.

“Y/N!”

Creating your throne, you turned to look down upon your subject and felt your ensemble pull. Wanting a full range of movement, you put on no show as you got the hooks undone on the corset. Tossing it aside without a care, your partner continued to leak more and louder protests as you unhooked your thigh highs. They’d surely slide down now, but being free from the garter meant your hips could easily spread before your mate. “You know the worst part?”  

“I can’t imagine one worse.” Rage wafted off of him.

“That I’m gonna be thinking of you...” Your hand trended down your sternum and up over the waist wrap of your garter.

He strained and metal creaked.

Reaching the top bit of your underwear you paused and searched B.E.D.F.A.S.T. to see if it would hold.

You got to watch in real time as it beefed up its restraints.

Donnie snarled for your attention.

“What?” You dipped into your sex out of spite.

Whatever complaint Donnie had died on his lips.

“Huh?” You tilted your head back to project your voice. “I can’t hear you!” In time, you tested your needy folds.

There was a minor rattling signaling Donnie’s thrashing. “Stop this instant!”

“How about you? You were so good before...” You mourned as only a few swipes summoned the desperate ache that had been plaguing you all morning.

“Y/N!!!”

“I’ll muzzle you.” You spoke with an obvious threat.

His teeth clicked as his mouth slammed shut.

“Mark, pass me the toy.”

Around Donnie, several spindly arms sprouted with a variety.

That got you upright. “What...?”

On one arm was the tongue toy you’d used before and on another was Donnie’s dildo, but extended on the last two were what looked to be some type of finger vibe and a third dildo you had never seen before. Holding out your hand towards it, B.E.D.F.A.S.T. offered you that one and you took it. Of a darker shade of purple than any of his other offerings, this one mimicked the shape of Donnie’s cock in a smoothed out and much smaller version.

The moment you looked up to Donnie, he turned his head away. “What’s this?”

He chuffed, eyes narrowing into the corner.

“Guess I’ll find out for myself...!” In a quick check, you located the abandoned bottle of lube.

“Double penetration!” He snapped.

You stared straight through his grouch to the worry that lay underneath. “Tell me and I won’t.”

He bounced ever so slightly before his lip curled. “If applicable. Depending on how we were going to employ B.E.D.F.A.S.T. next. I would have offered.”

“The vibrator?” You pointed to the smaller device still held by the machine.

“Hopefully sprung on you during our next marathon. Meant to prolong your orgasm and push you to the brink.”

“And these were... both going to be surprises?”

“With proper acknowledgement, yes.”

You held onto the knowledge for a moment before setting the dildo aside.

Donnie visibly relaxed.

You then reached right back up and made a grabbing gesture with your fingertips toward Donnie’s toy.

“You said-!”

You loudly shushed him as B.E.D.F.A.S.T. passed you the toy.

Holding it with one hand, you abandoned your sex to explore your body with the other.

Hyper aware, your partner quieted as he tried to parse out what you were up to.

Brushing the real estate where your long raised heart rate was starting to throb into a headache, you firmly massaged your body. Squeezing plains of your stomach into pinched chunks, you mapped across your torso in a provocative show that sent goosebumps down your arms. Titillated by the heated stare, you closed your eyes at the same time you arched your back.

Your hips groaning at the upward thrust, you fell back into the bed and caught one of your breasts. Kneading the flesh, you squeezed straight through to the nipple where you pinched the bud in a roll between your thumb and forefinger.

You keenly heard Donnie take an inhale between wet lips.

Imagining those same lips down south where the nectar poured freely, you cracked your lids open to examine the toy you were fondling with your other hand. Still warm, but not as much as it could be, you set the base on your belly and stroked it with both your appendages. Quickly heating it back up to an appropriate temperature, you wiggled your hips in preparation and heard a series of wary clicks.

You ignored him and set the toy to a steady upright between your legs.

Like someone struggling to light a match, the sound grew louder.

Pressing the full length of the shaft to your sex, you ground against the height of the toy. An encompassing sensation, you were aching for something more direct, but would have to make due.

“Enough.” Donnie announced with a little too much clarity.

You didn’t stop your hips as you flicked your gaze to stare at him dully.

Muscles going taunt, he found the tiniest amount of slack before snapping what had to have only been a few centimeters forward.

The entirety of B.E.D.F.A.S.T. creaked where it was bolted to the wall.

You stilled. “Donnie...”

“Stop or else.”

“Mark, tighten. Don’t give him any leeway!”

Donnie snarled as B.E.D.F.A.S.T. suctioned to his skin.

Pulled like green apple taffy, Donnie was spread as all the arms pulled away from one another.

His attempts at writhing became unproductive as his body was strung taut. 

Sure now that you were once again safe, you minded keeping the toy upright as you switched to rolling it over your sex. “I miss you,” came off your lips without thought.

“Then release me...” He rumbled with ire.

You shook your head along with a little moan as you forced the toy hard against you. “Under me. So good. Tail wagging ecstacy!”

You gave an excited chirp and Donnie responded with a wounded one.

“Need you...!” You chirped again, adding your other hand to keep the toy in place.

He squeaked his willing presence.

You imagined a lonely sound of a soft shell looking for his mate. “Beg... Maybe, I’ll-” A gasp cut you off as your leaking core dragged right against the width of the silicone.

“I-I-” Donnie startled as you accidentally hitched a gasp.

Lifting your hips up, you shoved the base of the toy against your entrance. Something wholly too large, it pressed wide and flat and you whimpered rocking it uselessly against you.

“That’ll never satisfy you...” Donnie found his voice and you cranked an eye open where you were still desperately rutting. “There’s no comparison. It will never be as hot. It will never throb. It will never be your perfect fit, made for you.”

“M-me?” You panted, feeling the toy moving faster due to your slick.

You watched a pink tongue dart out and swipe his lower lip. “Only I have what you crave.”

“That’s not begging!” You pushed down as hard as you could and your cunt ached under the pressure of the vast object.

“It’s yours! Just have me! Waiting for you! To use how you please! It’s been yours! Waiting your whole lifetime!”

“J-Just mine?” If only you were wetter, then maybe you could get some traction.

“Predestined! You had to find the pathetic wretch it was attached to.”

The lube bottle felt so far.

“He lies in stasis, waiting to be thawed by your touch.”

There had to be more.

“I’ll grovel. I’ll smash this infernal machine to pieces. Damned part of me. Damned that one as well!”

“This is... you?” You looked down at the bobbing purple between your legs.

“Of course it’s me! A pathetic substitute of my design.”

His tech was him.

This was him.

He was a match for you.

He went inside.

In a roll, the tip of the toy bobbed toward you and you caught a glimpse of the cum within.

It was him.

You turned it over onto your belly, just below the waist strap of your garter. Warm spent traveled down your mons and underwear. Wringing the toy out like trying to get the last of a condiment out of a bottle, you dropped the dildo for a momentary break as you rubbed the cum into you. Pushing it between your legs, your fingers easily entered you and you belted a long moan at having finally been breached.

“No!!!” Donnie gouged out. “Oh my sweet berry trifle! Let me. Please! Me! Let me do it! I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel incredible. It has to be me. It has to! My cock is yours. I’m yours. I adore you! I must! You have to! You have- You can’t!!”

Dizzy, you were on your feet as chants from your partner echoed around you. Chasing the sound of his voice, his cum dripped down your legs and you approached. “Drop.”

On command his dick fell wet and heavy from his slit.

“Mark, put him in an Amazon position.”

Donnie chirped eagerly as he was lowered to the ground. Laid on his back, B.E.D.F.A.S.T. snapped his knees together and then pushed them up into his plastron. Mounting his cock, you held it just shy of entering you. “How are you gonna be?”

“Good.” He squeaked.

“Right answer.” You dropped onto him and savored that delicious splitting. “Finally...!”

“You had me this morning.” He peeped and you fucked words right out of him.

The ache seated deep and rushed to meet its maker. Cumming within the first five strokes, you ignored the shudder and squeeze of your guts and looked up, crazed, at B.E.D.F.A.S.T. “Mark, release! All commands! I’m done with you.” Turning toward Donnie, you felt yourself milking him. “Fuck me as good as you said.”

In a blur, B.E.D.F.A.S.T. let go in time as Donnie kicked one of his legs out. Given a primary directive, he ignored the last frizzling pops of your orgasm and swept you up. Plowing you straight through it, your face smashed against the wall and one of your legs rose to a worrying degree. Folding it against your side with your hips screaming, he fucked you flat right against B.E.D.F.A.S.T.’s panel.

Making a mockery of the machine, Donnie thrust into you for precision first, stretching out your first orgasm without clear end by shoving the needle on the charts against your g-spot. Just as that was becoming too much, he then switched, hitting deep toward your womb while babbling in your ear about how you’d made the right choice.

Thinking of nothing else, but him, the wind of your second orgasm again wasn’t exact as he ruined all navigation. Curving one arm under your raised leg to hold you with the rest of his body keeping you pinned, he carved out space to shove against your lower stomach from the outside. Crying at the force, he then weaseled his other hand in to assault your clit and sank his teeth deep into your shoulder.

Allowing no end, when he did finally cum, you know longer knew the meaning of the word. Your neurons were a messy set of firings in a dark void. Not unconscious, but something protozoiac, you swam in a petri dish of his own making. Prepared in a lab setting, everything was a sterile bland and the feeling of your body entering moist sheets felt like a jar.

Gasping to life, Donnie caught you from outright sprouting and held you close as reality crashed around you with a filthy gush of fluids that seemingly poured from a broken pipe between your legs. Sweaty and sticky, your cheek stuck like tape to his plastron and your breath shredded your throat with each inhale. Delirious, but alive, you made a noise that translated nothing as you stopped fighting.

Going slack, Donnie let you fall away where you landed, without distance, onto the bed. In front of him and hands groping his form to know it was there, you found his face with a brush of his cheek.

“Need more?” He churred into your palm. “Anything for you.”

You stared at him without comprehension.

What was his asking?

You had no needs. “M’good.” You slurred, registering only happiness.

NEXT

New year, same awesome betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

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

[isefyres]

@dcviline asked: “i’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.” (theon @ wylla)

Her   head   peers   to   the   side,   her   body   trapped   by   the   way   he   presses   her   again   the   wall,   feeling   the   rumble   and   tear   of   her   dress   at   his   hands.   He   had   made   a   habit   of   fucking   her   near   the   waves,   at   night,   in   caves,   warm   enough   from   the   castle   but   far   enough   where   she   can   scream   his   name   and   he   can   do   as   he   pleases.   While   everyone   sleeps,   Theon   Greyjoy   threatens   a   political   scandal   by   tearing   her   dress   and   take   her   every   night   like   a   wanton   woman   by   the   beach   and   sand.   But   she   doesn't   mind.   She   is   a   Manderly   an   the   sea   is   her   home   like   it   is   his   home,   perhaps   he   feels   a   connection   too,   the   Grey   King   and   his   Merling   Bride.   Except   they   are   on   shore   and   he   is   biting   over   her   neck   and   grabbing   on   her   breasts   as   he   thrusts   for   friction   against   her   bare   ass.  

"What   if   I   don't   want   you   to   stop?"   Wylla   asks   then,   a   smile   upon   her   lips.   "You   always   get   so   hard,   Theon.   I   bet   you   could   come   thrice   without   even   leaving   my   cunt.   Is   it   really   that   wet   that   you   can't   control   yourself?"   She   teases   him   then,   aiding   him   as   she   removes   the   skirts   out   of   the   way   and   the   corset   is   unlaced   so   her   breasts   feel   the   coldness   of   the   cave   around   them.   But   all   she   can   focus on is how   warm   he   feels,   and   the   wet   noise   his   cock   makes   as   it   teases   her   lips.  

"Fuck   me   now.   That   I   will   beg   you.   Fuck   me,   please.   I   want   to   feel   that   cock   of   yours,   Greyjoy.   And   don't   stop."   She   braces   against   the   cave,   arched   hips   wide   for   him   to   enter   her   in   a   delightful   bliss.   "Fuck   me   and   don't   stop   until   you   are   dry.   I'll   take   you   whole.   Don't   I   look   good   for   you   like   this?"

#dcviline #muse ╲ wylla manderly › interactions. #usft tw #she is insane like him

[melk917]

Can i ask for a hc about edging the hell outta Barba?

Oh fuck, yes, anon. Let’s do it.

See below the cut for what turn into something longer than intended.

He’s been incredibly difficult for the last week: short tempered, frustrated… more than a little bitchy, to be honest. Things are just not lining up on his current case, and he’s tearing his hair out at each new hurdle (and facing a smug Buchanan in court is just killing him).

He’s been taking it out on you, too. Not in big ways, but he’s short with you, purposefully misinterpreting things you say so he can snap back. He’s brusque and snide and just a little cruel.

Sure, you know where it’s coming from. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to let it slide.

You wait until Friday, when you know that if his work schedule for that night is thrown off, he’s still got time to make it up.

He gets home that night and, like usual, makes his first stop in the bedroom to change out of his suit. Except instead of an empty, dark room, he finds you, leaning back on the bed, done up in a corset and garter belt combo, thigh high stockings showing off your legs, a length of rope in your hands.

He pulls up short, eyebrows raised, as you get up slowly, backing him up until he hit the doorway.

You tell him he’s been very ill behaved this week. Bad tempered. Bitchy.

He scoffs.

But there’s a bright flash in his eyes, something close to relief. Like you're giving him a way out.

You tell him he owes you an apology. Doesn’t he agree? All he has to do is apologize and he can have you however he wants you. You hold the length of rope out in offer.

He rolls his eyes instead and shrugs. Says you’re just sensitive.

And oh that was not the way to go. You have his wrists up behind his back before he can blink. You ask him if is sure. Sure that he has nothing to say.

He tells you to do your worst, because you can’t possibly think he’ll ever say he’s sorry.

You bite the back of his neck in warning and step back before you can feel him shudder against you.

You tell him to strip and lay back. And you’ll see just which one of you will break first.

And god, he’s still so smug, even as he strips, lets you tie him to the bed.

And you start slow. Taking his abandoned tie and running it up his legs, over his hips. You scrape your teeth lightly over his nipples, then blow cool air over the sensitive flesh.

You go out of your way to tease, his cock filling, twitching. He’ll let a soft noise or two slip out, but he’s doing his best to resist. When you look up to meet him in the eye, when you ask if he’s ready to apologize, he stares back, challenging, a smirk twisting his lips. He’s daring you to do your worst.

So you do.

You work him over with lips and tongue and fingers. You tug his balls, rub his perineum, working his prostate from the outside.

He starts to slip a bit when you do that, hips flexing against the sheets. His cock is fully hard now, flagging heavily, resting in the crease of his thigh. But you ignore it.

You ask again and he just gives you a defiant tilt of his jaw.

So you grab the lube, slicking your fingers to tease gently at his hole while you scrape your teeth over his hips. Suck marks into his inner thighs.

This is where he slips.

You rub a finger over his prostate, just as you lick a seam up his balls and he cracks, letting a moan slip out. He is painfully hard, cock flushed a deep red, precum dripping and smearing across his hip. He twitches hard with each press against his prostate.

He starts to bargain. Offering himself, offering sexual favors in return. If you just touch him.

You say you’re happy to give him what he wants… he just has to apologize. He groans and shakes his head, taking deep breaths through his nose to try and pull back from the edge.

You run a finger up the vein in his cock to watch him twitch and hear him groan.

He begs for more. You ask him again if he’s ready to apologize.

His voice is cracking, he rocking his hips up, trying to fuck down on the finger you are thrusting in his ass.

You’re rubbing his prostate harder, more insistent. You can feel how his thighs are trembling, the muscle going taught, straining. He’s getting close.

But he still refuses to apologize.

You back off and he’s gasping.

He tries again. Begging, pleading, but not giving you what you want.

You start to build him up again. You do it over and over, pulling back each time as he gets close, until he’s practically sobbing, cock and angry red, the entire length slick with the precum that’s dripping out in a constant stream.

He’s a mess of precum, and your spit, and lube. Flushed, straining, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. (You’d be worried, except he still hadn’t used his safe word.)

You’ve got him now, three fingers deep in his ass, working him, and you lean forward to mouth at his balls. They’re pulled up tight, his legs and arms straining as he tries to hold back. He’s so close. You know with just the slightest touch, the slightest thrust, you could have him coming.

You pull back.

He’s groaning, choking on a whine, a sob and finally he’s breaking down. Apologizing for his behavior, how he treated you. Admitting you were right, and how sorry he was, and please, please, please he was so close. He’d do anything.

You lean up, cupping his jaw in your clean hand to tilt his chin up so you could look at him. He’s flushed, lips spit-slick and swollen from biting them, lashes damp. He ducked his head to press into your hold, and that’s what had you leaning down to brush a kiss over his lips.

“Do it.” you murmur against his mouth. “Show me just how sorry you are and come for me.”

A single rough pull, twist over the head of his cock, thrusting your fingers against his prostate, and he’s arching against you, every muscle straining, flexed, as he comes, crying out against your mouth. He comes all over his chest, some as high as his collar bone, smearing across your skin where you rest over him.

You kiss him through it, jerking him until he’s flinching, crying out softly against your mouth at the overstimulation.

Afterwards, he curls up against you, completely fucked out, face pressed into your neck, arms around your waist. He presses sleepy kisses to your neck, your jaw.

He sighs into your skin. “Thank you,” he murmurs, half-asleep already. “I know I’ve been terrible. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You smirked against his hair. “I know.”

He bites at your jaw playfully in response and you huff. “You should be gracious in response to my apology.”

You laughed, “I think I was just very gracious, dear.”

He snorted, legs still weak and trembling from the force of his orgasm. “Fair enough.”

A few beats passed and he sighed again, nuzzling close. “Wake me in 20 minutes? We can order in and take a shower while we wait for it. And then I’ll show you just how thankful I am for everything…”

You pressed your smile to his sweaty hairline. “Deal.”

#oops this got a bit way from me #it's somewhere between notes and a HC and not a fully scoped out story so there's gaps #but hell yes let's edge the man #rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #mk answers

[mingoyeob-archive]

45 and 78 with jungkook pls🥺(Btw i love your writing and take your time for part 3☺️)

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

hi thank you guys so much for requesting and also for being patient with me anon! I combined these two asks because you both asked for 78 so other anon you get a little something extra haha! I hope you enjoy <3

45: “Take.It.Off” + 78. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.4k

Around the castle people buzzed and shuffled, zipping past one another like moving pieces in a well organized machine. The sound of numerous conversations and orders being shouted from left and right was only beaten out by the loud rushing water from outside, heavy drops of water hitting newly installed stain glass windows and ringing off like canons. Rain was nothing new to the occupants of Uwhen and not even the downpour outside could stop the bustling maids and the boisterous knights that littered every hall. So it was to Jungkook's surprise when he heard the noise come to a halt, turning his head to follow the direction of everyone's gaze trained on the main entrance. His eyes fell upon the distressing, albeit slightly amusing, sight of you standing drenched from head to toe, looking akin to a shaggy dog he had once seen fall into a river as a young boy.

It wasn’t your fault of course, this was your first rainy season after all. Sure there were a few cloudy days and drizzles that happened here and there but for the most part Aster was typically a sunny land with what seemed like never ending summers. So how were you expected to know that during this time storms came through quicker than the drop of a hat, nose untrained to picking up the fresh scent of lingering salty rain that was always a tell-tale sign of what was coming. And by the time you were able to feel the light drops of water landing on the top of your head it had already been too late and the next thing you knew you were trudging through thick mud, struggling to pull the train of your dress and walk with the weight of your heavy petty coat holding you down.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed and rushed over to you in only a few strides. His hands found themselves landing on your shoulders as he worriedly looked you over, eyes full of concern. He could feel you shaking under his fingertips. “What the hell happened to you, my love?”

You could only gaze up at him through wet lashes, lips set heavily in a pout. You could tell he was waiting for you to answer but you were too caught up with the fact that everyone had stopped to stare at the pair of you. Too afraid to sound like a fool, you had no intention of explaining yourself out here in the open, only letting out a small whimper as you huddled your arms close to yourself to stave off the cold. Jungkook noticed your hesitation, head whipping around to glare at the onlookers who had stopped to see what all the commotion was about. “Fucking hell- what are you all looking at!? Get back to work!”

Like a flip was switched, the noises returned and everyone went back to rushing past each other. All except your hand maiden who came running over the minute she saw a clear path over to your dripping figure. “Lady y/n! Let me get you back to your bed chambers and I’ll run you a fresh bath and get you a new pair of clothes and-”

“No need.” Jungkook had brushed past the maid, arm locked heavily around your frame as he started escorting you back to your room, not even sparing her a glance. “I can do all of that perfectly fine on my own.”

She sputtered and followed hastily behind you two, “But- but sir! Are you sure you don’t wan’t-” Jungkook's steely eyes had her mouth clamping shut and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Of course, my apologies. Please let me know if you need anything else, my lord.” She didn’t even wait for a reply before bowing and leaving in a hurry.

Jungkook merely grunted and continued walking the two of you up the staircase, your graze trained behind you as you watched your hand maiden scurry away. “You didn’t have to be so rude, you know.” You muttered, letting out a small hmph. Jungkook just gazed down at you briefly before pretending as if he didn’t hear your snarky comment. Though you swore you saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.

Upon arriving at the room, Jungkook had immediately pushed you into the center of the room, broad shoulders looming more than a few inches over you just an arms reach away. He sighed slowly and crossed his arms, “Take it off.”

You deadpanned, “What?” you say. You had heard what he said, but you hoped he wouldn’t say it again. That hope was mistakenly misplaced.

“I said take your clothes off. They’re soaking wet and you’ll get sick.” Jungkook said, talking as if this whole thing was just a giant nuisance. His facial expression was cold (as usual), so it was hard to really tell if he was serious or not (also very usual). “Once you undress I’ll give you a bath-”

“No no I’m fine! Haha no need for that, yup completely fine.” Your attempt at passing off the situation in an effort to avoid his offer was very unconvincing. “It’s not even that cold, I’ll dry off soon.” That was a lie. You were freezing, Jungkook could practically hear your teeth chattering as you spoke.

You were obviously uncomfortable with his request. He wasn’t mad, in fact, he completely understood. Despite being married for 3 years (most of it being spent apart except for one short night), he had only ever seen you naked once. At least in real life it was only once, his dreams were a completely different story.

Jungkook just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “Y/N…” he let out a sound of annoyance and took a deep breath to compose himself before dropping his hand and fixing you with a steely glare. He hated having to get stern with you. “Take.it.off.”

This time you could definitely tell he was serious and your nervous smile immediately dropped, replaced quickly by a look of defeat. You knew you had lost this time so there was no point in trying to push off the inevitable so instead you just sighed and began undoing your corset, Jungkook standing quiet as he watched. You could practically hear a pin drip, the room was so silent. It was deafening.

When Jungkook saw your fingers get to the last loop, he waited with bated breath. Finally, he thought, he really had to talk to someone about making your dresses less complicated to get off (for your convenience, of course). He watched you gulp just as the cord was set free and then stared transfixed as the material fell, pooling around your ankles. If he wasn’t already holding his breath, he would’ve choked. His dreams were doing you absolutely no justice.

By now your face was on fire, heat feeling your cheeks to the point you no longer even felt cold. And Jungkook's stare was only making it worse, your head filling with so many nervous ramblings and worries. Have I gotten fat since he last saw me? And was that stretch mark always there? Wait, when did my thighs get so big?

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous.” your breath caught in your throat. Jungkook had whispered the words completely in awe, irises finally filled with something other than stony resistance (dare you say, love?). You don’t know how, but for some reason those simple words had all your insecurities fading away, at least for the time being. Because the way he looked at you in this moment, it didn’t matter if you had gained a stretch mark or two, cause you knew he would still see you as nothing less than beautiful.

It was hard for you to say exactly how he was feeling since he didn’t say much else before turning around to head into the bathroom (presumably to run that bath that he mentioned earlier), but for someone who was a man of a few words, just one sentence could mean a thousand. And you hoped he would stay with you long enough for you to hear a thousand more.

#drabble game #bts #under the oak tree #jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #knight jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

[abruisedmuse]

elucien are the epitome of class and grace and elegance, which is why I find it incredibly hot to think of them absolutely ravishing each other. imagine elain with messy, tangled hair with the laces of her corset undone and lucien, looking like he's just run a marathon with his shirt fisted and half hanging out his pants. bonus if they're hooking up in secret and they're always too close to getting caught and just barely manage to dress back up before someone walks in

hc elain braiding lucien's hair but the way she's tugging on it just turns him on and he just keeps moaning and she's amused so now she's purposely being rough. he figures out what she's doing. it doesn't end well. or maybe. it ends, very. well. too well.

Alright nonnie.

So first part yes. Absolutely 100%. Literally all they do is share a single look during a meal, her garden, a kitchen, a library, etc and they know what it means. Suddenly both of them are gone. Behind a tree, a small alcove, wall or a counter, where ever. They just need each other in that moment. Lucien may or may not have caused small fires to distract servants while he takes his mate. Elain thinks it's a bit dramatic to which he questions if she wants him to fuck her or not. Usually ends up in her unbuckling him and telling her mate to shut up.

Here's the crazy thing these lovesick fools don't realize, all the servants already know. It's secretive and hot to Elain and Lucien. Due to the potential of being caught it turns them on (except those few times they hear Helion in the close distance.) Now the servants when they see meals untouched or Elain's sheers and gloves simply laying haphazardly in her gardens. They know what's happening. In fact. The servants have a code now when Elain and Lucien are "missing" and they stay away from the room and small dark spaces.

The Hair Braiding

Let me start by saying it usually ends in sex and Elain will always braid his hair. Even if she's angry with him. Despite being upset with him she loves the feel of his hair. It's not his silken tresses fault they're attached to a male with a smart mouth.

The times she's pissed are the only times he doesn't enjoy her tugging on his hair while braiding it. She pulls. Hard. He winces at every yank. Lucien knows she has a satisfied smirk on her lips at every pained noise. At some point he usually grips her hands and kisses her wrists and she forgets about the anger for a moment. She still angry braids, but they talk about their issues this way. Lucien has become a pretty good judge of how pissed she is based on how hard she pulls his hair. As they talk and get to the root of the problem. The hard yanks soften.

Other than the angry braiding..he looooves it when she braids his hair. The way her fingers push deep into his scalp and how her nails rake slightly against it. It's such a turn on for him. When they first mated it took her numerous times to finally complete a braid because the moment he moaned at her touch, he could sense her arousal and they ravished each other.

Now. Now they have a method. He usually sits before her. Settled between Elain's legs. Lucien relaxes, hands trailing up and down her sun kissed legs, eyes shut as soft moans leave his lips. Sometimes he falls asleep as Elain massages his scalp while gently tugging on the strands. Other times, when her fingers dance threw his hand. Her nails scrape and tugs are more defined. He stays awake knowing in minutes he's going to ravish and devour her. As a thank you of course.

Also. Lucien does braid Elain's hair too. And on hot days. He takes off those damned sun hats (hates them cause he can't see her beautiful face) and pulls her hair up in one of his leather straps. Eventually he gets her ribbons, silk and pieces of leather for her hair. But he much prefers when she wears his.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien hc #ask #answered #They love that exhibitionist life style #and hair braiding

[theyanderespecialist]

Stripper Dear 1 (One Shot) Valentino X Marie OC (Hazbin Hotel X OC)

I just realized I never updated this I am so sorry here it is much later 

(Marie's pov)

I smile as I handed out the drinks as I pushed my hair back. Honestly, I've only worked at this club for like a month, but it's not the worst thing. I then see a woman walking to me. "VIP show for you Marie."

"Ah, thanks so much." I said smiling as I walked to the room, opening the door and walking in before closing it only to see Valentino. What was my boss doing here?

"U-Uh Mr Valentino?" I asked shocked. I mean I actually never really met him face to face except when being hired.

(Oh god xD I mean first off, her boss, second off, how she supposed to give a lap dance to some literally 5'1 feet taller than her xD)

(XD)

"I am your VIP." He tells me and sits down waiting.

I felt my voice catch in my throat. Oh god was this some sort of test? Did someone make a complaint and now I have to actually prove I'm good enough to work here?

"A-Ah.. I-I see.." I said nervously. I looked at him. How the hell am I supposed to do this? He was 5 feet taller than me.. I'd just have to figure it out.

I walk over to him, trying to ignore the panic in my head as I unzip my jacket I wore, letting it fall to the ground as I managed to get on him, my legs straddling him on either side, partly for the dance, but also so I don't, you know. Fall off.

The nice thing about being a stripper is, we don't get touched, well, they aren't supposed to touch us.

Which I never had a problem with before people who ever tried I guess were band from the club. I smile at him. He might be able to bump my pay if I please him. Also I heard about his temper. I do not want to loose my job. I let my hands run down him briefly as I pull away to pull my shirt off slowly, my hips still moving though to the music in the room. He smirked and placed his hands down on my hips. I gasp at that but keep moving. Think of the money you can pay rent and afford to spoil yourself a little.

Besides, he wasn't really doing anything..if anything it helped me feel like I wouldn't fall off and break my head open on the ground bellow.

I ended up shifting just a little so it would be easier to move as I lean in slightly, my breasts pushed against him, I mean it's nothing this man hasn't seen or felt. This was probably more so boring to him at this point.

(Yeah you're gonna wish that)

(XD Poor Marie)

"That is it come to daddy~" He purrs into my ear and I try to pull away in shock but onepair of arms keeps my chest pressed to his.

I go to scream but he covers my mouth with a third hand and the fourth grabs my wrists in his one large hand pinning them above me. Next thing he grew two more arms and let them start to stroke my body. I try to struggle the best I could but it was useless not to mention that he growled in my ear.

"Be a good girl or daddy will have to punish you."

(Instant regret XD You jinked it Marie XD)

I stare shocked, I mean I was terrified. I never..I mean I can't say I never saw this coming because I never actually knew the man. I wanted to run..but I didn't want to push my luck, god knows I wouldn't be able to, so I stop. I just need to get this dance over with and leave..so..I need to do what needs to be done.

I move once more, but not to pull away, but continue moving like I was before, even licking the hand over my mouth.

(she's like "hey hey no need for that, I'm behaving see?)

(XD Dont behave that well XD)

"Let daddy make love to you~" He says kissing down my neck. "Then all your troubles will be gone baby~"

(hmm...two things I don't think of together make love, and Valentino like xD either she gets punished, or she gets punished for acting good xD)

(XD Hey he can be a simp XD)

My eyes widen just as what he said registered in my mind as he pulled a hand away.

"N-No!" I said as I see his face quickly turn to a snear. "I-It's not you!" I said quickly. "I-I just.. I've never ..I never had.. I didn't ..you know?" I said my voice shaking.

His face turned into a smirk. "That is good~ that means I will be your one and only~"

My eyes widen. "I-I-I--" "don't worry I'll help get you in the mood, and you'll also help get me in the mood by finishing your dance. I wouldn't be so cruel to my baby by not making her first time be enjoyable. Especially when she actually listened to me."

(I mean he's right. Marie rarely stops resisting. She actually did. Granted he's 10 feet tall._

(And one of the most powerful demon in all of hell XD)

I nodded and continued my dance. I did not want to make him angry. I got him nice and hard and now could feel his insanely large cock pressed up against me.

"No it is time for me to pleasure you~" He says and flips us over getting on his knees and slowly taking off my panties.

I tried to stay calm I did as I was terrified..but..he wasn't actually really hurting me or grabbing me too rough.

I grip the chair leg, my breath shaky. "Surely you've at least experienced this much?" He asked but I shook my head.

"No you has the pleasure of eating you out~" He asks kissing up my thighs.

"No." I gasp as he does so.

"Good what other first do I get to have?" He says and kisses my thigh higher and higher.

I blushed darkly as I realized he wanted me to actually answer.

"I-I...I haven't had any kind of sex...I-I haven't even had my first kiss.." I manage to squeak out as my voice shook.

He stopped at that and looked up at me. He then took off his glasses and hat. He lifted up my chin and lean down kissing me gently. I gasped it was so soft. I didn't..I didn't know how to react. I've never in my life, felt something so tender, not that I had anything to compare it to personally, but from what I see here with kissing, this wasn't like it at all..

I didn't know what to do, but the last thing I want is him angry... so I kiss back

(hey she may not be an experienced kisser.. but he'll make sure to change that)

(YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS XD)

(I don't even want to think about how long his tongue is xD)

(Oh YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS)

He smiled into the kiss and stroke my hair and kisses me deeper licking my lower lip asking for entrance. I open my mouth and he slips his tongue in playing with mine.

I let out a small noise, it was a new feeling..

(Just be glad he's not using his full tongue.. probably could throat fuck her if he wanted xD)

(XD He will save that for later XD)

He smiled more and pulled away letting me breath. I panted as I immediately felt breath between my legs as I instinctively shut my legs

He chuckles at this. "Do not fret baby girl daddy is taking it slow~" He says and kisses down my neck two of his free hands undoing the corset.

His other hand slowly parted my legs as he tossed the fabric aside with no care as I shudder. Two hands massage my chest and nipples and I moaned into him arching into him it just felt so good~~

I see him smirk suddenly. "Does it feel good~?"

"Y-Y-Yes, I-I didn't think it would feel this good~" I admit

He smiles and kisses me again. "It will always feel this good with me~" He purrs and then lowers his face to my vagina. I blush and try to close my legs but he does not let me.

I feel his tongue run up my lips as I jerk at that, shuddering as I arch my hips up as he smirked diving in as I moan, wrapping my legs around his head, his hands still playing with my breasts, only making me feel better. I know it's wrong. I know it is, but..I didn't care. I didn't want it to end. I rub myself onto his face, my hands grabbing one of his hands that was free as I held it in mine

(Oh my god that's actually adorable)

(Yes it is ^-^)

I moaned and her smirked into me slipping his tongue in slightly. I clench down it in shock but not pain.

It was uncomfortable but not painful as I stilled and he seemed to know as he took it slow, even helping by helping me lift my hips.

(Yeah I find if I have my hips.slightly elevated it helps)

He continued to push it in, only a little though as this continued, with him licking inside of me only to pull out and go back in as I felt this..this odd clenching sensation in my stomach.

"I-I ahhhh~!!" I cry out as something happen and it felt like I burst.

I fall back panting and he licks it up I look at him as he came up and smirked at me. "Was that your first orgasm~" He teases kissing my belly.

I blushed darkly as I could only nod as his smirk grew. "Perfect~ now we can really have fun~"

I blushed and he sucked on his fingers then slipped them into me stretching me I moan as I was so sensitive from the orgasm. After a while he then lube up his cock which now that he pulled it out it was huge I close my legs fast at that.

I I wasn't ready

"N-No! N-No I think we should end there!" I said.

(Girl he didn't even cum, you can't be that selfish)

"It is either your pussy or mouth~ You can't leave daddy aching now can you?" He says spreading my legs. "Either way one of these days I will have both and you will be mine~!"

(like god Marie selfish

(XD yeah here he is being sweet on you and you want to be selfish)

I tried to struggle. I was terrified of what would happen, the pain it would cause.

"Come on now, you were being so good until you got what you wanted, it's only fair I get what I want isn't it?" He asked before he smirked. "or are you playing hard to get now?"

He lined up with me. "Deep breath now you tease~"

I nodded and took a deep breath as he thrusts in all the way. It hurt but not as bad as I thought. But I couldn't help but scream as he quickly clamped his hand over my mouth. I couldn't help but scream, I tried not to bit it still hurt especially when I felt something in me tear. I gripped his hand I was still holding and he stopped once in all the way. I whimper and he let me adjust I still hated it though. It hurt so much, I felt like I would break if I moved.

"Shh, it's okay..you're going to be alright." He said as I then feel his smirk against my neck. "besides, I'll make sure that you enjoy feeling me inside you~" he said smirking, his voice still had an undertone of love but it wasn't nearly as soft as it was before.

(See he's like "well we're in now, now it's time for me to enjoy." And we all know, yes he can be a simp, but there's nothing he loves quite as much as dominating others.)

He gripped my hips with two hands. Held my hand with another. Two on my breasts and the last on stroking my clit making me mew in arousal and slight shock.

I moaned as I grip onto the hand as he leaned in, that large smirk still on his face. "You know, for someone who just seconds ago was saying you don't think you would like it, you sure are moaning a lot." He teased, flashing those stupid teeth.

I let out a small moan. "F-Fuck you." I said, I didn't mean it, but if he was going to be a dick, I could play along.

"Well I will be getting to that baby~" he teases then pulls out thrusting back in I gasp and moan as he hit something in me that made my toes curl.

It felt so good~ bit god was he a smug asshole. "Sm-smartass.."

"Your smart ass~" He says with a laugh and starts to fuck me senseless. I cry out and arch into him trying to meet his thrusts but man he was going so fast and hard I thought I might just loose my mind.

I cry out loudly as I moan as I clench around him.

"God you feel so good~ you could have made a ton of money as a call girl for me."

(...how romantic)

I glared at him and hissed.

"But it is better for me, I don't have to share you~ Or kill off all your clients~ Not that I was already doing that before when they touch you~"

(Geeze this guy so romantic XD)

That made me stop. He what? "Wh--" he suddenly stopped thrusting as he suddenly flipped us over as he was on his back now, wearing those stupid glasses again. (God Marie xD she's not happy, like she likes it but she's also pissed that he is kind of a dick xD)

I looked down as he smirked. "well? Come on, you can slide on yourself." "I-I'm not doing that!" I snap. That was so..so embarrassing to do that.

"Oh you aren't huh? You know, now that I think it..you haven't played your monthly share yet." He said casually, but that same smirk on his face.

(There's the val we know)

"Your an ass!" I say but still straddle his waist and lower myself on it. God this dick how can he be so good in bed but such a dick.

"you shouldn't talk to me like that." He said the smile on his face but it was a little more serious. I stopped at that. I mean I was annoyed by him.. but, he still was that person from earlier and I actually worried I hurt his feelings.

"I'm sorry I didn't, I was just playing a role.." I said softly.

He stroke my cheek. "You got to remember who is boss, baby, or else I may have to punish you~"

I nodded and leaned down taking the rest of him and kissing him.

(I mean...you say that like punishment is a bad thing xD)

He kissed back as I let out a soft little moan when pulling away, making sure to do so right in his ear.

"Then why don't you tell me..what you want from me, boss~?" I asked softly

"Ride me like the naughty little slut you are teasing me all this month~" he says smacking my ass

I let a moan at that, jerking forward slightly as I wrap my arms around his neck as I lift myself up, moaning at the feeling.

"F-Fuck..you f-feel so good..inside of me~" I moan out.

He smirked. "Damn Right I do!" He says and kisses me again and then moves his mouth down to my breasts

I moan as I managed to grip onto him as I arch into his mouth. "I-I hope y-you like them~" I moan out as I got into a rhythm of moving up and down.

He moaned and sucked on them massaging them as well and playing with the other nipple. Oh God I love his sick arms. I grip his head as I continue to ride him, his arms helping to lift me as I tighten around him. Fuck, I was going to cum again..

"Don't.." he muttered into my breast as my eyes widen.

"What?"

"Don't cum, not yet. I want to see how long you can hold back." He said and immediately, he went back to my breasts as I let out a groan. There is no way I can hold back. I just can't..

I tried, but within seconds I was cumming around him for a second time as I shuddered. I tried I really tried to hold back.. but how do you even stop an orgasm?

He groans and cums into me deeply and I cry out as my sensitive walls were hit.

He holds me up as I lean into him he pulls away. "I will have to train you to have more hold on it~ But you were just a total blushing virgin only minutes ago~" He nips my neck. "You also made me cum fast so I will give you credit for that~"

I look at him as that smirk turned to a genuine smile. "You did really good."

"...Y-You aren't going to just.. throw me out now right?" I asked softly.

"Hm?"

"Like ..I'm still of use right?" "Is that what you think this was? If I wanted you to be one of my whores you'd be out there right now selling your ass, but I don't want that."

He took my face in a pair of hands. "I love you, your the first person I loved in hell and the person I love most out of all my existence as a human or as a demon. And from this point on you are mine and I am NEVER letting you go~~~" He says and kisses me savagely like a starved man.

#yandere #yandere valentino #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere one shot #one shot #hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #valentino x oc #OC #oc Marie

[i-ate-the-whole-entire-pie]

Call Me Mother, Chapter One

I languidly drained the last breath from my cigarette, the drag filling my lungs. My garter straps hung down lazily, tickling my thighs, as they awaited their purpose. Music thumped rapidly, and whoops of delight resounded through the hall. The dressing room door swung open; a small, but curvaceous woman behind it.

Her eyebrows were tweezed to perfection, eyes deeply shadowed, eyelashes false and curled into large feathery swoops; her mouth was like a plump strawberry. I’d always harbored a mild curiosity about how it tasted.

“Mary, you’re up in 10 minutes. I want you at the curtain in five," Cristella said, her hispanic accent thick.

“Is that a new corset?” I asked. Cristella turned me around, and yanked the laces of my corset together. Thank god I haven’t needed to breathe for the last 150 years, I thought. I floated a small influence her way. Gentler, please. She complied, unwittingly. They always do.

I don’t normally use my influence on people I like, but I’m far too hungry to risk her pinching me with this corset. I couldn’t forgive myself if I lost control. She was far too kind to die a death that violent.

“It is. This papí chulo I’ve been seeing said he wanted me to wear it for him. Maybe he’ll tip better," she said, carefully pulling the slack out of the lower half of my corset. I placed my hands over my belly, holding everything in place.

“What’s the crowd looking like?” I tucked the ties away. She jutted a hip out, and began counting off on her impeccably manicured fingers.

“The usual crowd. Old Man Carraway, that one divorcee who drinks like a fish. College kids. Oh, there’s also these dudes in silver masks. Low-key kind of demonic. And some weird guy in like, face paint? He’s painted up like a calavera. I figured they came from that concert that was in town. You know, the one that church was protesting? Say they like worship Satan or something?”

“Sounds about right." I bent down to attach my straps to the garters of my stockings.

“They’re probably here for a private room, so I figured I’d put you on now. You’re good at handling the weirdos." Cristella giggled, watching me struggle to get the backs of my stockings attached. She and I broke into fits of giggles, as she chased me in circles, trying to help me attach my stockings.

“Let me get that. Hurry up and get on stage!” she said, giving me a playful smack on the ass. I pranced out of the room, trying to avoid her grasping mitts.

“Hey! No bruising the merchandise!” I giggled, linking arms with her as we strutted backstage, perfectly in step with one another. She grabbed the microphone from Mike the Mic Guy, gave me a wink, and stepped through the curtain.

“Aaaaand we’re back! Now, this next lady I’ve got lined up for you is quite a treat. She’s as pale as cream, thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, and will definitely step on you. Well, she might if you tip well. For legal reasons, we can’t call her “Elvira,” so I guess we’ll settle for… MOTHER! MARY!” That was my cue. I sauntered through the curtain, my hips moving like a figure eight. I moved across the stage, “Lullaby” by the Cure playing. I always chose various genres of rock for my acts. Not that I have anything against the other girls’ music choices… but there’s only so much female rap you can play in one night. As I began to dance, I noticed the group that Cristella had mentioned earlier. They were sitting front and center, near the edge of the stage.

Seven of the masked figures sat around the Painted Man, as I had labeled him. Two of the masked figures seemed effeminate, and the other five seemed more masculine. They all ranged in different shapes and sizes. Maybe the masks are a fetish thing? Cristella did say that they came from a concert… Something about them seemed off. I did a swing around the pole, dropping into a fireman, trying to catch a scent. It was a whirlwind of scents, none of them too out of the ordinary. Except the beefy one. He smelled like midnight. I don’t know how to explain it. What really caught my interest though was the Painted Man. Specifically, his eyes. One of them was grey, the iris almost black. The other eye had a pale, white iris. It suited him, and it was beautiful, in an eerie way. Those eyes looked at me, as I danced around the stage, and they knew me. If I had a working heart still, it would be racing.

As Robert Smith crooned, I descended the stairs of the stage as sensually as one could in Pleaser heels, making my way to the Painted Man. If I wanted to know what these people were, I’d have to get a closer look. The Painted Man patted one of his legs with a gloved hand, and cocked his head to the side. I took the invitation, but not before I teased him. I crouched between his legs, running my hands up his thighs. As I rose, I walked my hands up his thighs, bringing my face closer to his. His breath graced my skin, smelling faintly of licorice. As he leaned in, for what I could only assume was a kiss, I rose again, strutting over to one of the masked beings. It was the smaller of the male ones. I sat in his lap, letting him run his hands over me as I began to grind on his lap. His growing erection told me I was going to have a busy night.

“Your boss is a little too eager," I whispered, getting a good whiff of him. He smelled faintly of smoke. I put my hands on his chest, trying to keep my balance. No heartbeat.

“What makes you think he’s my boss?” The being asked petulantly. He grabbed onto my waist, as he began to grind with me. I moved his hand to the small of my back, and leaned back in a dip. The being ran his other hand over my belly, in between my breasts, and up to my throat, bringing me back up to his masked face.

“You’re the one wearing a uniform." I darted my tongue out to lick my lips. What is he? My mind raced as I tried to run through every supernatural creature I’d ever known. But then I heard it. I barely even understood it. All I picked up was price and one night. It was Ghoulish. The taller female ghoul was asking about what I can only assume was my hourly rate. Most strip clubs in this part of Vegas were just fronts for brothels. However, it’s hard to sell the idea of prostitution to Mid-Western vanilla tourists. So most of my income was made from stripping. I usually had one or two clients I went to bed with a night. It wasn’t very stable, but then again, I had less expenses than the average stripper, considering my “condition."

“Tell your friend my basic hourly rate is $500. My Ghoulish isn’t any good." I stood up, and made my way to the female ghoul’s lap.

“How do you know Ghoulish?” she asked, a bit of surprise in her tone. I bent over in front of her, shaking my ass for her. She put a couple of bills in the waistband of my panties, punching my previous ghoul in the arm. He forked over some cash as well.

“I’m not human. I’ll leave it at that," I said, stuffing the cash into the top of my corset. Dear lord… All hundreds… The female ghoul rubbed my thighs, turning me back around slowly, so as to admire my ass.

“Could we get a room after your number? I think a private dance is in order," she said, in broken Ghoulish. I nodded, and as if on cue, the lights and music began to fade out. As I began to walk back up the stairs to the stage past the Painted Man, his hand darted forward to smack my ass. God, it really is not the night for this shit. My more animalistic nature took over, and before I could stop it, a hiss left my lips. As if of their own accord, my fangs sprung painfully through my gums. I heard a snap, and looked over to see the largest ghoul stand up. He shook his head. Thank god the lights were low. Embarrassed, I covered my mouth, and made my way across the stage.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Mike the Mic Guy asked, handing a mic to Cristella. I still had my hand over my mouth. Cristella looked worried.

“Are you okay Mary? I can get you some tea if you’re keyed up." I shook my head.

“Please get a room ready. The Freak Parade wants a private dance," I said as I walked away, silently cursing myself. Once back in the dressing room, I threw open the mini-fridge I normally kept padlocked. I looked to the last bottle I had left in my stash. Hopefully it hasn’t clotted, I thought, throwing the bottle back. This wouldn’t end my thirst, but it would certainly quell the burning in my throat. You nearly lost it. You need to bag one of these stupid fucks tonight, or else. I hadn’t had a bad case of blood lust in decades, but the combination of winter holidays, my strict schedule, and FOSTA-SESTA had really cut off my food supply.

The door opened, and Cristella came in with a cup of tea. She looked at the flask in her hand and cocked a brow.

“And you didn’t offer to share. What is that? Cuervo? Henny?” she said, reaching for the flask. I shook my head, and put it back in the fridge, closing the padlock.

“It’s cough syrup. I keep it under lock and key because of that bitch Ronnie. She’s not fooling anybody. You ever see how much her hands shake? Too much caffeine? Yeah, right. We all know what the DTs look like." I began changing into a burgundy velvet bra and panty set, pairing it with some burgundy gloves and stockings. Finally, I found a pair of sparkly Loboutins Lydia had left me. My mind rolled back through the streets of Paris to 1991, when Louboutin opened its first salon. Lydia smiled, as I kissed her shin, helping her into the heel. She looked down at me, her eyes full of love, and the corner of her mouth hiding a kiss just for me.

“Yeah, she is pretty suspish. What happened with those weirdos out there?” Cristella interrupted my memory. I shook my head. Are you just imagining your heartache?

“Oh the big guy was just mad because I didn’t get around to him. That’s why I wanted you to get the room. Plus, I might be able to secure a nice check from these guys. They all seemed absolutely randy," I said. Cristella shook her head, giggling. The gloss in my hand made a popping noise, as I pulled the wand from the bottle. It was my favorite flavor, watermelon.

“I can ask one of the boys to sit in, to keep them from getting too handsy," Cristella said. I shook my head. It would only keep me from getting too handsy, I thought to myself. Bless her heart. I could never make a kill here. I loved the crew here far too much. Plus, I didn’t have a coven. No one to protect me when I fucked up. They kicked me out long ago. It’s the main reason I ended up in Vegas, avoiding the sun when I could, doing my best to keep a legal and convenient profession. Where else could get a job with only night shifts, and a never-ending supply of useless assholes no one cared about?

“I’ll be okay Crissy. Even if they do try something, we have a panic button in there. Don’t worry." I gave her a slimy, glossy kiss on the cheek, earning a shriek from her strawberry mouth. She batted at me, narrowly missing me as I bounded out of the room.

As I approached the bigger of our three private rooms, I noticed two of the larger male ghouls standing outside the door. All of the ghouls dressed similarly, including the female ghouls. But I now noticed the alchemical symbols dangling from their belt chains. The shorter one had a quintessence symbol, the other larger one, an earth symbol. The earth one opened the door, and the quintessence one escorted me in.

“Thank you, Aether. Back to the door with you. Come, have a seat. Dewdrop says there is more to you than meets the eye. Let me pour you a glass of wine, cara," a thick, Italian accent beckoned to me. I walked to the ottoman in the middle of the room, where I usually found myself during private dances.

“I don’t drink during work hours, love. Now, what should I call you?” I looked into the mismatched eyes of the Painted Man.

“You can call me Papa. I’m Papa Emeritus, the fourth. My close friends call me Copia, but I suppose we are not quite there yet, sí?” he said, leaning forward to take my chin in his hand. I nodded.

“While I would love to marvel at your undoubtedly exquisite body, There is some business we should take care of first, piccolina. Do you like Type O Negative?” Cue the record scratching. The dreamy look I normally adopt when with my clients evaporated.

“Excuse me?” I whispered. Papa laughed.

“The band, cara. I was going to have you dance for me later. However, you must have a preference."

“I really don’t understand what you mean," I whispered. Papa laughed again, a big booming laugh.

“I know your secret cara. The ghouls told me. One of my predecessors, Papa Nihil, told me if I were to ever come across your kind, I should try to win your allegiance. Your kind have interesting abilities, specifically the power of influence." Of course that’s what he’s after.

“I don’t do that," I said, looking down to avoid his gaze. Papa tsked.

“I think you will. The ghouls say you smell lonely. Where is your famiglia?” He asked. I shook my head. Lydia’s pained screams echoed in my ears, our last moment together wrenching my heart out of my chest decades later.

“We split because of artistic differences," I said softly. Dewdrop and his companions giggled behind me.

“Forcing people to allow you to exsanguinate them for sport is not ‘artistic differences,’” Dewdrop hissed. The other ghouls laughed. Papa shook his head, and raised a hand to silence them.

“Now now, Dewdrop. It is hard to control one’s basic nature. Sí, tesoro? Tell me, how long has it been since your last drink?” He looked at me with concern. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew what he saw. Weak, pathetic, useless… The words were like a disgusting mantra, swirling through my mind, angry and acidic.

“Weeks… It’s been weeks," I whispered. He tsked again. I heard the ghouls chatter amongst themselves. Their pity made me feel disgusting, like a child with sweaty, clammy hands, and odorous armpits.

“What if I told you I could offer you a job and a home? A home where you wouldn’t have to hide your nature. A home where you’d never go hungry again?” I looked up at him.

“What kind of job?” I asked. The ghouls laughed again. Papa shot them a glare.

“I would make use of your gifts occasionally. Nobody would get hurt. You would warm my bed whenever I asked. Maybe pick up a trade or two once back with the Clergy. And in turn, you would get protection, and all the blood you could ever need," he said. I finally mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. What do you have to lose? Besides, you’ve done infinitely worse things.

“You swear on your life, nobody will get hurt? Not a single person?” I asked. Papa nodded.

“I’ll do it. I’ll also require a salary as well," I said, extending my hand. Papa nodded, taking my hand in both of his.

“Anything you need, cara. But first, I think you need a drink. And then we will get the night I paid for," he said. He waved his hand towards the door, which the shorter female ghoul scurried to open. I noticed she sported a pocket chain with an air symbol.

“Bring in one of the more rosy siblings, Cumulus. I suspect our new friend will need the sustenance before we get too far into our plans for the night," Cumulus nodded, and shut the door behind her. Papa stood up, and began removing his suit jacket and gloves; rolling up his sleeves. I could see his blue veins pulsating, causing me to become aroused in a way I cannot quite explain. Involuntarily, my pussy throbbed, and my mouth watered.

“Now now, little one. Be patient. Your drink will be here soon enough. But for now, you will seal our little deal with a kiss, so to speak. On your knees," Papa ordered, gesturing to the floor. I slipped from the ottoman to the floor, crawling on all fours to him. His breath hitched as I slid my hands up his thighs. I didn’t break eye contact as I unbuckled his trousers, nor when I reached into his pants to pull out his sizeable cock.

The door opened, and I heard mumbles, as well as a struggle, and a thud. Of course, both my hands and mouth were preoccupied. I watched Papa intently as I sucked him off. His eyes were rolled back, his mouth slack, and his hands threaded into his hair, as he let out an ungodly moan. I kitten licked his frenulum, stroking his shaft, earning another moan. He bucked his hips into my throat. Sit still, I whispered in the back of my mind. Papa grabbed my hair, and pulled me off his cock.

“Never again, my little bat. Continue," he said, grabbing either side of my face as he began to fuck my throat rigourously. Someone behind me cleared their throat. I wasn’t able to look up, due to my current predicament.

“Can’t you see I’m busy, Cirrus? What is it?” Papa let out a grunt, as his cock twitched in my mouth. I began to fellate him with my hands, wrenching more breathy sighs and groans from him. Within seconds, his warm seed was flooding my throat. I heard Dewdrop cheer, and then a slap, which I assumed was a high five. Papa rolled his eyes and smiled, as I dabbed away the bit of cum that had spilled over my bottom lip.

“Just in time. I needed something to wash down all that salt," I stood, and walked over to the person Cumulus and Cirrus stood in front of. It looked like a plumper woman. She was wearing what looked like a nun’s habit, her red ringlets spilling out from under her wimple.

“All for you cara. Come find me when you have finished your meal," Papa walked out, which left me with the ghouls and my prey. Dewdrop, and the other male ghoul, who sported a water symbol, helped the little nun onto the couch.

“You’re going to let me fuck that tight ass later, right? Nearly busted watching you and Copia earlier," Dewdrop said to me, softly enough for just me to hear. I giggled and nodded, batting him away after he began nibbling on my neck. He patted my ass, and began to pull the wimple from the nun’s head.

“I’ve got this. Why don’t you and the rest of the ghouls get started? I’ll be done pretty quickly." Dewdrop nodded.

“C’mon, Rainy. Come play with my cock, while we watch Mary drink," The water ghoul nodded, grabbing Dewdrop’s hand. I turned my attention back to the nun. She began to stir. I pushed back her hair.

“This is going to hurt a little bit. But I will make this quick and painless. You deserve an easy death." The nun, barely awake, nodded, and turned her head. I cradled her head, and brought her throat to my mouth. With a final kiss to her soft, peachy flesh, I sank my teeth into her throat, not letting a single drop of her blood go to waste.

It felt like drinking water after being stuck in a desert for a week. Her blood was sweet, clean, and thick, and it quenched my thirst quickly. Her body began to go limp in my arms, and her skin turned cold. It’s still not enough. I had to force myself to stop. Never drink the last drop. It might just be the last thing you do, my old mentor’s voice reminded me. I let the little nun drop back to the couch, and turned to face the ghouls. Cirrus sat with Cumulus, each with a hand in the other’s pants. Rain was bobbing his head up and down slowly, as Dewdrop played with his hair. Dewdrop looked up at me.

“Hot," he said. Cirrus nodded, and refocused her attention on Cumulus. Rain moaned, causing Dewdrop to hiss. I looked at them all, lust clouding my gaze.

“Make room. It’s my turn," I said. Dewdrop pulled my mouth to his, not fazed one bit by the blood coating my lips. Cirrus began to explore the space between my thighs with her long, gorgeous fingers. Rain held my hair, kissing and nipping at my neck. A girl really could get used to this...

Hours later, after all of the ghouls had had their turn, even the two from the door, I was back in the dressing room. I opened the envelope the earth ghoul, Mountain, had handed me on the way out. My eyes grew like saucers as I counted the money inside. I had only expected eight grand; two hours, eight clients, multiplied by $500. But as I counted, I realized I had 15 grand in my hands. The door opened, breaking my wealth-induced trance. It was Papa.

“If you would really like the job, come to this address in two weeks. Bring only what you must. Put everything else in storage," he said, handing me a card. I was confused.

“Why two weeks?” I asked. Papa smiled.

“Because it’s polite, cara. Don’t forget your letter of resignation."

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

This is the first thing I've wrote in years! I hope you all enjoy it! A special thanks to @gasolineghuleh for all of their help!

#the band ghost #popia #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #cumulus ghoullete #cirrus ghoulette #duckydaydreams

[dalamjisung]

queen of the night ❁ lee minho

genre: angst and fluff (a mess of emotions)

word count: 9717

pairing: reader x lee minho

description: the king needs you. but what he doesn’t know is that you need him, too.

“The preparations are underway, my King.”

He doesn’t spare a glance at his servant, waving her away with a wave as his eyes quickly scan the maps laid out in front of him. His Royal Secretary, Hwang Hyunjin, stands next to him, nodding in silent agreement as they move pieces around, mumbling unintelligible words that even if you tried, you couldn’t understand. Their low voices is a form of defense, protecting both you and themselves.

Being the Queen makes it so there are obvious downsides to a life of riches and power. After the first assassination attempt, Minho made a point of always having his eyes on you. You could still remember his angry words, the shouts echoing in the cold stoned walls of his castle.

“They dare to try and kill my wife under my roof?! Who the fuck do they think they are?” His crazed gaze lands on you, your hands clutching your robes shut as you try to control your ragged breathing. He frowns, and although it takes some time, you think he finally notices your discomfort in being in a room full of armed men after what happened. Gathering them all near his working desk, Minho quickly mumbles out orders. “Bang Chan, Changbin, take him to the dungeons, I’ll deal with him later. Felix and Jeongin, I want a through check of my grounds, use everyone available. Seungmin and Hyunjin will stay with Y/N–“

“What about you?” You ask, and you hate to admit that Lee Minho is your only source of comfort at the moment. “Where will you go?”

“I have things to deal with, my Queen,” The formality to which he responds to you is what ticks you off, and you are marching out of his room before he can even process it. Of course, his men are quick to follow you down the hall, all the way back to the Queen’s Chambers, but you lock the door before they can enter after you.

You need to be alone for what follows.

“Y/N,” Someone touches your shoulder and you’re quick to react, pulling away clumsily. You flinch, the sudden movement having your ribs throbbing in pain. “Oh… are you okay, Y/N?”

Chan’s worried eyes find your and you can’t help but smile at your best friend. He lived next to you growing up, his family relying on the crop yours maintained, and yours, relying on the protection of his father’s army. His father had been a loyal commander of the royal guard, serving the King and the Royal Family for years until he passed away in combat; and, having been trained since a young age, Chan was quick to follow his dad��s footsteps. You would’ve too, if the army allowed for female warriors. Instead, you found another way into the royal life, and, unfortunately, it came with a lot of weight to falls onto your shoulders.

“Y-Yeah,” You smile, a bit shaken up still. “I’m fine, don’t worry, Channie.”

He frowns, not believing a single word that leaves your mouth, but nodding nonetheless.

“Can I help you with anything?” You sigh, hands unconsciously moving to cover your ribs, uncomfortable with the pressure that your corset applies to the wounds.

“No, you just looked… lost,” He shrugs, looking around the room as the others busy themselves with strategies and tactical conversation. “It must be incredibly boring to have to sit through these.”

“You know I am not bored by talks of war,” You smirk, remembering back at fond memories of sitting in Chan’s living room with him and his father as you two played with his maps and two wooden swords he’d carved as toys. “I am, however, suffocated in a room too small for such big egos.”

The snort that escapes him makes you giggle, and you straighten your back at the realization that you two are being observed.

“My King,” You voice out, slowly raising up to your feet in the most composed way you can manage. “I am sorry to interrupt such urgent matters, but I wonder if it is okay for me to take a walk in the gardens…? It is such a beautiful day out and–“

“Commander,” Minho nods at Chan, face twisted into something that you can’t read. “Please escort the Queen outside.”

“Yes, my King,” Chan politely bows before following you out.

The noise of the door closing behind both of you is enough to have you both running down the hall, laughing in the most manic of ways as you race each other to the castle’s gardens. Upon your wedding, Minho had all your favorite flowers spread through the grounds, making a safe place for you to collect your thoughts and enjoy the sun, as he put it. You hold that space sacred, adoring what it means for you and what it could’ve meant for the King, even though you’ve never seen him out there, not even once.

“Oh, my Queen!” One of the maid steps out of the way as you run past her. “Be careful!”

“I will, Dorothea,” You shout back, smiling widely as you push the heavy doors open. The sun makes you squint, but you soon get used to it, quick enough to watch Chan pant, hands holding his body up by the knees. “Getting old, Bang?”

“Ha!” He wheezes out, but his nose crinkles in a oh so familiar way that is enough to have you laughing again. “You wish, Y/L/N… or should I say, my Queen?”

“Ew, no,” Your hands touch the white petals that surround you, finding comfort in the smoothness of their beings. “I hate it when you call me that, Commander.”

“You suck,” Chan grumbles, poking his tongue out at you.

“You are probably the only one that can tell me that without suffering the consequences,” You joke, sitting down on the wooden bench that faces the pond. Before sitting next to you, Chan looks around, wanting to make sure no one would witness such comfort casualty from a royal guard towards the Queen.

“Oh yes,” He chuckles. “The King would definitely send me after them.”

“It is not you that my enemies should fear,” You smile, hands once agains seeking the white flowers, almost as if honing their energy to yourself. “They are my enemies, after all.”

“Close your eyes,” He says once again, and is that a hint of a smile you hear in his voice? “It’s a surprise, my Queen.”

“They are closed,” You muse, chuckling at the uncharacteristically youthful behavior. Your hands are stretched in front of you, careful not to hit anything as your husband guides you through the halls of your new home.

You hear a loud, creaking noise and suddenly there is wind, blowing against you, caressing your skin with gentle nips of cold air. His hand is firm on your waist, and you dare to blush at the touch you’ve been craving for for so long, basking in the feeling of his breath hitting your cheek as he chuckles once you almost trip over an unannounced step.

“I got you,” He mumbles, voice low and raspy. “I got you, Y/N.”

“T-Thank you,” You whisper back, allowing your hands to fall on top of his as he keeps guiding you, turning you right, right, left, right, left, and stop. “Are… are we here?”

“We are,” He slowly withdrawals from you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Your answer comes out more excited than you intended and he laughs at your enthusiasm.

“Open you eyes.”

Blinking, you focus on the rich bushes surrounding you, and where before there was simple foliage, beautiful, big white flowers have bloomed, their smell enveloping you in a trance of amazement and wonder.

“They are called Queens of the Night,” Minho explains, slowly walking besides you. “I thought it was fitting for you… with how they open up slowly, only at night; how they are careful with their surroundings, looking so rough at first, and then so, so soft at the touch.”

“Minho…” You whisper, holding tears back. This is the most beautiful thing he’s done for you ever since your wedding.

“My Queen,” His eyes are looking at you– only you– but he still misses the way your smile fades as you process his words, a pang of sadness washing away all the remnants of the momentary glee he was able to offer you. “My life.”

Nights in the castle are quiet, Minho being a kind enough master to give his servants the dark hours to rest. He cares for those who care for him and you know it; for him, however, it seems that you are the only exception.

Your windows is open, much to your husband’s dismay, but you simply shrug at his disapproving eyes, set on the ideal that if he won’t sleep in this room, he won’t command this room. A queen must sleep in her own chambers, is what he told you after the ceremony was done. He was courteous enough to call the maids to help you out of your wedding gown, but you would only see him again the next morning, understandably so. You knew why he married you then, and you know why he still keeps you close now; nothing about you is enough to allure the almighty King Lee Minho– no beauty, no riches, no titles. But what you give your husband is something beyond the shallow eyes of those who wondered what did their King see in a woman like you, a woman with no prowesses. What he did see, however, is something that only few do, and even fewer dare to recognize it– especially in a woman– but he did. He saw you for what you are, and that is the main, if not the only, reason you accepted his proposal. Minho saw pure, and unadulterated power.

Chan is the one to pick you up. He doesn’t dare to contest or question his orders, this is not up to him, but he worries; it’s clear in his eyes, in his face, in the way his mouth turns slightly downwards. He doesn’t find you in your family’s home and if that’s not where you are, then there is only one other place you could be.

He finds you in his house, laughing merrily with his mother as you enjoyed a warm cup of tea and wild strawberries from the forest in the back of his house. His mother sees him first, leaping to her feet and running to her son, excited to have her boy in her arms even if for a small moment. It is the fact that he doesn’t laugh or smile that has you both worrying, his mother pulling away from him, hands trembling and heart racing, and you behind her, hands on her shoulder in support.

That’s always been you– the silent support.

The strongest pillar of both your families.

“Y/N,” Chan’s voice is thick with worry, and you frown, wondering if he was once again hiding his tears from both of you. “The King requests your presence.”

“Oh my!” His mother gasps, turning to face you. “What does he want with her?”

“He saw you.”

You nod. You nod because you know– because you saw him too. It was during an attack to the village, an unexpected ambush from the prince of a neighboring kingdom as he visited to sign a trade treaty; from the carriages and nearby mountains, waves of men poured into the centre of your home, killing, destroying, burning. You remember hiding your parents and Ms. Bang in the forest, and almost like you’ve been possessed by an avenging spirit, you take a deep breath, you calm your racing heart, your focus, and you move. Years of training rush back to you, living next to the most skilled fighter and swordsman of the kingdom suddenly paying off, as one after the other, enemies fall to the ground under your merciless arrows.

In your defense, you didn’t know it was him– you didn’t know it was the King– but it wouldn’t matter even if you did. He is surrounded, twin blades in each hand, and all you see from under his dark hood is a smirk. The skill one needs to wield twin blades is immense, but even relying on his experience and obvious mastery of his weapons, this man would die by end of today… if you didn’t do something about it. Unlike him, you rely on your stealth and speed. You have a long distance weapon, and only a couple of arrows left– missing is not an option.

“Missing is never an option,” You whisper to yourself , and once again you take a deep breath. Hold it. And release.

The first arrow crosses his neck, and before their eyes can find you, the second one strikes another in the shoulder. With two down, you have enough time to throw your bow to the side, pulling two knives from your boots.

Some may say you fight dirty, arriving unannounced, secretly, quietly. It’s not good form, it is not noble. You, on the other hand, say you fight to survive. You don’t care about dignity as long as you get live. As long as those you are protecting get to live. That is all that matters, you think, as you approach another two, ducking away from the uncontrolled swords clanking against each other.

“Three,” You whisper, swiftly moving away as you slice his neck open. His body falls loudly, and now all eyes are on you, but that  only buys you time. Another knife finds another man’s knees, and you let the twin blade’s finish the job. “Four.”

You pull away in time to see the other two enemies fall dead on the ground, and you don’t dare to look up at the curious eyes that watch you walk away.

“You saved my life,” He shouts as he sheaths his swords.

“I know,” You pick up your bow, quickly putting your knives away.

“What do you want?”

“Whatever do you mean?” You frown, not even bothering to look back at him. You don’t stop walking, but he follows you.

“You must know who I am,” He chuckles, and you can hear him jogging to catch up with you. “So tell me… how can I repay you?”

“No need for that, your Majesty,” You keep your eyes down. “I did only what anyone would.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. Not even my best commander could do what you did.”

You frown, not quite content with the dismissal of your best friend’s talents.

“I am sorry, your Majesty,” You bow down. “But everything I know is because of your commander. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check in on my family.”

One final bow and you are gone.

You remain unmoving as you hear shuffling from your window, your blinds fluttering with both the wind and the intruder. Another assassination attempt… could it be? It had been less than a month since you dealt with the last one. Who could be so desperate to have your King dead as to send multiple assailants in such a short period of time?

Don’t they know?, you think, regulating your breath to not give yourself away. One of them is bound to talk…

You move slowly, almost dreamily, slipping your hand under your pillow, where a familiar knife lays. This one was specially made for you with the best steel available in the kingdom, handle garnished with the brightest rubies in the land– Minho was particularly proud of himself with that one gift. Your thumb laces through the whole in the handle, steading your grip for when you inevitably ‘wake up.’

“Ah,” You hear the low voice mumble, a man. The deep breath he takes, nose bumping against your forehead, makes your stomach knot, and you stop yourself from giving into the nausea that threatens to take over. “Such a pretty Queen… all alone at night, unprotected, unloved. You must be craving some attention aren’t you, your highness?”

The cold drag of his blade on the exposed skin of chest is all you need to snap, one leg pushing him into the bed and one hand on his shoulder to hold him down, knife perfectly placed on his throat. Your breathing is harsh, visibly disgruntled, but he is too busy trying to regain control to notice. No one ever notices.

“Wha–“

“Who dares to trespass into the royal residence?” You practically growl, hair escaping your braid and falling over your eyes. You are aware of how you look– nightgown exposing the top your heaving breasts, eyes dark, hair wild; you see how his eyes leave your for a second, taking in the whole picture, and you really want to get this over with. But you need information first.

“Well, well, well, the Queen has some surprises up her sleeve,” He wheezes as you press your knife down harder.

“Who are you?”

“Does it matter?” He mumbles, smirking.

“No,” You chuckle. “I have no use for such an insignificant name. I do, however, need to know who hired you.”

“Ah, I believe you know that information will never reach you, your Majesty,” He winces, feeling the sharp blade shallowly cut through his skin.

“You see, I don’t believe you,” You click your tongue, and with another swift motion, you two are standing, his arm twisted against his back and your knife still in place. “But I understand… I am merely a woman, why would you tell me anything? Maybe an audience with the King will suit you better.”

Your feet are cold against the polished stones, but everything is secondary to the task in hand. You push the man forward, and it’s only when you’re in front of his door that you notice it is already ajar. It’s almost like your heart stops beating and your hostage notices, using the moment in his favor. He knocks you back with his head, and you feel blood dripping from your brow where he hit you. He has no weapon, so he is quick to try and escape. You can’t let that happen; you need to know who wants Minho dead– that’s the only reason you are there to begin with. You can’t disappoint him. Whatever happens next, it happens in seconds; with your mind split in between you current situation and your husband, you cuss the gods above and throw your knife, and before you hear the loud thump of the man’s lifeless body hitting the floor, you feel all the air in your lugs escape you.

“Stupid bitch,” You hear, as you fall on the ground. Another person, another woman, stands over you, feet pressing down next to where a small blade is lodged on your side, blood staining the floors the more you stay there.

The pain you feel has nothing to do with the weapon intruding your body, and you push away any emotional turmoil, forcing your blurry vision to focus, and all you need is one hit to the back of her knee. She falls forward, arms stretched to cushion her fall, and your elbow meets her face before she can even touch the ground. Adrenaline is rushing through you and you rely on that, knowing that you don’t have long until it starts to wear off and you lose all consciousness.

“Respect your Queen,” You snarl, getting into a fighting stance as she raises to her feet. “Girl.”

One of your hands puts pressure on your lower stomach, stupidly trying to stop the bleeding– you know you can’t pull the knife out, but it might just be the only weapon you have available. You have no other choice as she advances, another blade pulled out from her back– it’s messy and full of rage, completely unlike you, but it’s the best you can do. You barely feel the cuts she makes on your arms, and you don’t really register the loud steps approaching from the south entrance; all you can think about is Minho and the fact that she came out of his room.

Your body is getting slower by the second, and your opponent is quick to use that to her advantage, widely striking whatever she can reach. She doesn’t kill you, though, and you wonder if she might just need you alive.

“Y/N!”

Chan’s voice is the last push you need, and the knife on your hands, one coated with your own blood and sweat, finds itself a home in her shoulder. The guards are quick to grab her, and you waste no time, pushing Chan away to run into the King’s room.

Minho has his wrists tied to the bed, and he is unconscious. A large gash in his chest, from his collarbone all the way down, is bleeding and you cry out in surprise, tears threatening to fall. It’s your voice, really, that wakes him up with a flinch, and his eyes open quick enough to watch you, all bloodies and bruised, crying, fall on his commander’s arms.

“I have a proposal for you.”

You don’t respond, still on your knees in front of your ruler. It is only once he tells you to rise that you do, looking at him in confusion.

“I have a proposal for you, Lady Y/N,” He repeats, getting from his throne. With suspicious eyes, he is quick to command everyone outside, wanting privacy for what is next.

“Whatever it is, my King,” You respectfully nod. “I am honored.”

“Marry me.”

Your gasp travels through the walls, and that is the first time you learn that the castle’s walls talk back, echoing your words as if confirming your decision.

“E-Excuse me?!” You mumble.

“Marry me,” He repeats, and with his hand, he guides you to his throne, sitting you down and moving to grab you a cup of water. “I know this is sudden, but you must be aware of the pressure I’ve been under to find a queen.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” You look at him with wide eyes. “But I-I don’t understand–“

“If you are aware of the pressure bestowed upon me,” He chuckles, and nothing but misery comes out through his voice. “Then you must also be aware of the attempts on my life.”

“I’ve heard of them,” You mutter, looking down at your hands. You hear shuffling, and you see the King kneeling in front of you. His hands cover yours, and he carefully examines your palms, looking for something. “I thought they were rumors…”

“Not rumors, unfortunately,” He sighs, closing his eyes, and just now you notice how exhausted he looks, almost like he hasn’t slept in weeks. “And it’s becoming impossibly harder to deal with those. Few of my men are capable enough to deal with hired assassins, but they are still soldiers– they rely on force and brute strength. That is not what I need, Lady Y/N, to deal with these threats.”

“W-What do you need, my King?” You frown.

“I need someone observant,” He says, eyes intense on you. “I need someone careful and stealthy. I need an assassin of my own.”

“Your M–“

“I need you.”

You quickly raise to your feet, putting some distance in between you and him, as if that would allow you breath, to think.

“Your Majesty,” You cry out, not being able to deal with his ludicrous offer. “I am not an assassin. I am not half as capable as your men, I am just a–“

“Woman?” He finishes the sentence and it burns; your skin burns with the way he looks at you, your heart burns with how fast it’s beating, your cheeks burn with the blush that takes over as you nod. “Even better. No one will expect this from you. You can hide from everyone, Y/N, but you can’t hide from me. Not anymore.”

“Why marry me, then?” You whisper, hands shaking. You want to scream… you want to cry and hit something. Why is this happening to you?

“Putting you in my army will just give away your potential,” He sighs. “And marrying you is the best way possible to always have you close without raising suspicion. You’ll always be by my side– my Queen. My life will be in your hands should you accept this, Y/N; but by marrying you I can at least make sure that your life here is comfortable. I can take care of your family, protect them. That’s why I can offer you in return.”

Your breathing stops. “You are asking for my life, your Majesty, not my hand.”

“I am,” He breathes out, frowning. “I am, indeed.”

“Do I really have a choice?” He doesn’t answer. “I thought so.”

“Everything I can do to guarantee your safety, I will,” He argues, closing in on you. His hands find your cheek, and his voice is as fierce as his eyes. “I’ll care for you. I’ll watch over you.”

You nod. This is your fate.

So face it.

“Okay,” You say, softly. “I’ll marry you.”

According to Chan, it took you four days to regain consciousness. The kingdom has been in distress, and your parents have not left the castle, Minho having provided them with comfortable rooms and service. Your husband stayed by your side until you opened your eyes, and only when you cried out, shaking your head, only then he left.

Everything hurt, and Seungmin has been more than attentive to your wounds, making sure to treat them at least thrice a day. He was able to stop the bleeding as soon as you were left to his care, but he still worried that you lost too much blood.

“You scared us,” He tells you every morning, when Minho and Hyunjin accompany him to your chambers to check on you. “You are lucky that the Commander got to you quickly, my Queen, or else who know what those people would’ve done to you.”

Who knows what those people would’ve done to you.

Such a pretty Queen… all alone at night, unprotected, unloved.

You must be craving some attention aren’t you, your highness?

“I-I, oh my god, I– Seungmin, I’m going; I need a bowl,” A familiar feeling creeps up to you, and you know what is about to happen. Your lungs tighten, and the more your try to take in gulps of air, the more you seem to be out of it; hands furiously searching for anything to grasp– the sheets, your hair, another hand– and you whimper, tears starting to stream down your face. “I’m gonna–“

There is no time– you throw up all over your bed, and you feel hands moving quickly to pull your hair back, another drawing circles on your back, but you need it to stop, you need distance, you need quiet.

“No, no no no,” You say weakly, pushing the hands away and shutting your eyes tight. “No, don’t touch me, don’t– please, please don’t touch me.”

You can still her that man’s voice on your ear, his tone, his suggestions. The disgust that hits you is enough to drive you out of your mind, hands rubbing your skin furiously, wanting all traces of him gone, all traces of her gone.

“Hold her!” Seungmin screams, grabbing one of your arms. “My Queen, you’ll open your wounds! Don’t–“

“Y/N!” Minho’s voice is the only one that makes past the cloudy haze tainting your mind. “My love, Y/N, what is happening?”

You freeze. This is the first time Minho says that; love. And as much as you want to enjoy it, to bask in the moment of hearing that word you’ve been waiting to hear for so long from him, all you can think is her. And her leaving his room. And if he said those words to her, too.

“Get out,” You whisper, pushing yourself away from both of them. “Call Chan. And leave me alone.”

“I am not leaving you unattended,” Minho says, and the voice he uses, the one he uses on everyone else when he orders them around, is enough to have you glaring at him. “I’m your husband. I’m staying with you.”

“I don’t need a husband right now,” You hiss at him. “I need my family.” “I am your family!”

“No, you are not!” You bite back, sobbing. “Wait here if you must, my King, but only until the Commander arrives. And then leave. Please.”

“W-What do you mean…?” He frowns.

“Minho.”

The sharp intake of breath is enough to have shivers running up and down your spine.

“My family would never ask me to die for them,” You sniffle, and when you look at him all you see is hurt. “They would die for me instead.”

Chan comes in right after, and only after the door closes you allow yourself to mourn. You cry for the love you gave away so freely to a man that wanted nothing but your willingness to die for him, and you cry for your fragile heart that breaks in two. You cry for the life you didn’t live; one that you might’ve found another love, one that loved you back, and you cry for the family that you’ll never have, that you refuse to have. You cry, but it’s too late now.

This is your fate.

So face it.

“You’re really marrying him,” Chan muses, guarding the door as your maids finish garnishing your hair. Everyone’s fixation is on your appearance, so much so that they miss the small daggers on your thigh. They have to make you pretty for the King, they say; he needs to finds you absolutely ravishing for the nuptial night. Just the thought of it makes your palms sweat.

“I really am,” You answer, offering him a small smile. “Can you believe it? You promise you’d always protect me when we were five, and now it is your official duty to see that you carry that promise to the grave.”

“And to the grave I will carry it,” His smile is true and dimpled and you heart aches at the thought of having to watch your best friend possibly go into battle. “My Queen.”

“Oh, god, no,” You crinkle your nose in disgust. “Don’t call me that when it’s just us, Chan. We are family.”

“As you wish,” He jokingly bow to you. “Your Majesty.”

“Oh god…” You laugh, and for the rest of the afternoon, Chan takes it upon himself to make you laugh as much as possible; to remind you of a time when everything was merry, and easy, and free.

It’s a beautiful sound, your laugh; and Minho closes his eyes as he washes himself in the sound, on the other side of the door.

“What’s going on with you?” Chan murmurs. For the first time in forever you see him without his official royal uniform. He is wearing an old shirt, and you recognize it from the stain– it was his dad’s old shirt, the one you dropped grape juice on when you were just three. You didn’t know he held on that all this time, but just the sight of it makes your eyes water. “Hm? What is going on, Y/N?”

“He doesn’t love me,” You murmur, quietly crying like you’ve done ever since you moved to the castle months ago.

“What do you mean?” Chan frowns, and gets up, moving to go sit next to you on the bed. Your hands grab the hem os his shirt, playing with it was you finally allow yourself to rid your body of the raging frustration trapped within. “He married you, Y/N. Out of all the ladies in the kingdom, he chose you. I think that says a lot.”

“It says he wanted something from me,” You say, rolling your eyes. His hands are gentle on your cheeks, wiping away the tears even though his efforts are futile– you can’t stop crying. 

“And what did he want from you?” The intonation of his voice is enough to know he is suspicious.

“Protection,” You whisper, and only then you gather enough courage to look him in the eyes. “Minho was in danger, and… and I helped him. And he called me the next week, remember? He called me to the castle, you were the one that came to fetch me and he needed protection. There were many attempts on his life, Chan, and although he has a whole army, he needed someone more discreet. And he thought I could be that someone.”

“I- no, that’s not… what?”

It hurts you to see him like that, eyes wide, mouth hanging, but he needs to know. You could’ve died and he would never know why, but this can’t happen again; he needs to know.

“The assassin that went after the King last month,” You gulp. “I was the one that… dealt with it. He is capable, but he can’t put himself in danger like that– Chan! Where are you going?”

“And you can?!” He shouts. You expected this. You expected anger and frustration, but you really need him right now, you can’t be alone. “You can risk your life for a man you don’t even love?”

“I do love him.”

This is the only thing that appeases him.

“I… I love him very much, actually,” You whisper, too ashamed to look up from your hands. “It started a couple of months ago, and… I am not certain why, Chan, but he is a very good king– he treats the servants well, and-and he truly is loved by his people, and he is good. He is good and I just– I just wish he’d be good like that to me, too.”

“Things can change,” Chan breathes out. “He can change. You… you didn’t see him when you were unconscious, but I did. Y/N, I do think he loves you, I truly do but… I think he hasn’t realized it yet. Things haven’t been easy for the King. He’s protected himself as long as I can remember, always deploying the army to protect his people.”

“Chan–“

“I believe he loves you,” Your friend says. “But I also believe he doesn’t know how to love you.”

“My wife at last,” Minho smiles, guiding you across the dance floor. With him, things are easy– his smile make it so everything is easy.

“Indeed I am,” You smile back, and for the night, just for your wedding night, you’ll allow yourself to pretend. To pretend you’re in love; to pretend you are loved. “Can’t back out now, my King.”

“Wouldn’t dare even if I wanted to,” He snort, and you love these moments, the ones that he allows himself the casualness of life. “You are lethal, my dear wife.”

“So are you, my dear husband,” You raise your brows. “I believe I remember certain twin blades on these same hands that hold me, right now.”

“I am sure you must’ve been confused,” He laughs. His eyes disappear under the giddiness of his smile and you enjoy the moment to caress his face. “I am helpless without my Queen.”

Minho finds you in the gardens. You are dressed in strange clothes, men clothes, and something inside twists. The way you move your hands graciously through the large flowers is enough to have him walking to you, making himself announced with his heavy steps. The sun shines particularly bright on your face once you turn around to look at him, and he swears you look angelic, everything about you screaming innocence.

“Okay, that is enough Y/N,” Minho breaths out, frustration driving him over the edge. He moves from where he is standing to kneel in front of you, and, oddly enough, it bring you back to a fond memory of him in this same position, sitting you on his throne. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but you are my wife. We are bound together by sacred matrimony, in which I vowed to take care of you, to protect and love you–“

“Love me?” You mumble, and there is something wrong once your eyes meet his. It’s almost like you don’t see him; like he is a ghost which you look straight past. “Love me, Minho? Do you love me?”

“Of cour–”

“That woman in your room,” You interrupt him, and you are very aware of your position; if you had not married the King, uttering a word in his direction could mean death. But as his wife, you have the power to interrupt him, to argue with him, to ask things of him– and yet, you still can’t gather the courage to simply talk to him. “If she had sneaked in, I would’ve noticed. I would’ve heard her, especially considering how you keep your windows closed at night. They creak, you know? Loudly. That’s why, usually, invaders will look for an easier entrance… like an open in the room next door.”

“Is… Is that why you leave you room’s window open?” He gasps. “To reroute them to an easier entrance?”

“Not an easier entrance,” You shake your head, and you finally focus on him, eyes on fire with anger, with rage. “Me. I manipulate their way towards me, so that if there is an attempt to someone’s life, it will be mine.”

“Y/N–“

“Tell me,” The way your voice wavers is enough to have him in high alert, desperately scrambling to try and get closer to you. “How did she get in your room? If not sneaking through the obvious entrance, how would she get in, my King… unless. Unless you invited her yourself?”

“No, that’s… I mean–“

“On our wedding day, I signed my life away,” You tell him, voice growing louder by the word. “I gave myself to you– body and soul– and all I asked back was your loyalty. You remember that? You remember the promise you made me, Lee Minho?”

“I do. I promised you I would never humiliate you,” He recites, frowning at the memory of you in a wedding gown, eyes wide as you listened to his words carefully. The kingdom was unaware, but you two signed the contract in front of them all. “I would never displease you, and I would never betray you. I would protect, love, cherish and care for you. I would do my best.”

“So now I ask, is this your best?”

“No.”

“Then did you lie to me?” You walk to him, finger poking his chest persistently. “Did you lie?!”

“No!” He shouts, taking a step closer, and you don’t feel fear– you could never fear him. Not him, with the hands that held you so close during your wedding; not him, with the mouth that smiles down at you in the most random of times; not him, that promised you the world, even if just for appearances. “I would never lie to you!”

“Then how did she–“

“I invited her!”

You had a hunch, but the confession is practically a slap to your face.

“Her name… her name is Adeline,” He sighs, eyes watery and full of regret. “We grew up together, much like you and Chan. She is the daughter of one of the old cooks; my parents allowed their children on the grounds so that I would have friends, you know? Her and I were really close, until I hit a certain age, and my training begun. Father had big plans for me, so he had to be harsh, I understand that but… he pulled me away from everyone. Adeline did not take well to the news and she– she was only trying to help, but she talked to Mother and the next thing I know they are being sent away and–“

Minho rubs his face with his hands, breathing deeply to regulate himself.

“The war hit and it was time for me to take over. I got used to how things were, so I just carried on like that, but it… it was hard. I was practically a kid, I was desperate and alone, so I reached out to her. Her words were familiar and comforting and it became a habit– whenever rough times were ahed, I’d rely on her. She knows be better than anyone, and I think she might’ve misunderstood my intentions. I got a letter… on our wedding day. She was angry and disappointed and I felt guilty and so I just kept writing.”

“What would you two talk about?” Jealousy is a foreign feeling for you, considering you’ve never had much to be jealous over. Yet you feel it as if it has been born with you, as if it controlled you whole. You hate a woman you never met and not for the right reasons– not for an attempt to your life, but for an attempt to seduce your husband.

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N, we–“

“It matters to me!” You cry out. Surprised with yourself, you cover your mouth with your hands, looking away from him. But he heard you– loud and clear– and he is not about to let this go.

“Why?” Minho questions, taking another step closer, until he can feel the warmth from your body touching his. “Why would you care?”

“Because you won’t let me in your chambers, but you invited her in,” Defeated, you let your hands fall down. Everything that’s been bothering you, suddenly race to the front, and all the nights you spent crying, all the injuries you’ve received in his stead, all the comments about who you are… it’s all too much. “You barely talk to me, but you write to her constantly! You push me away just to pull to her closer– should I continue?!”

It’s another cold night in the castle. Another lonely, dark night in which the wind blows so violently that the trees whispers secrets that weren’t for the random ear; the windows rattled and the doors creaked, and it all sounded much like a song– on a that you would never dance to. In your room, the candle is still lit, and you shiver under your covers, pulling them up past your neck and just above your nose. Once again, your husband refused to join you in sleep, as much as you tried to change his mind, and you have to brave the night by yourself.

The darkness is not your friend– someone like you doesn’t get to enjoy nighttime. You have more than enough training and enemies to be aware of what lurks in the shadows. People don’t take kindly to your abilities, and with the years, you’ve gathered a fair amount of people who might want to hurt you, but ever since you’ve became Queen, those people might just as well kill you. Your husband’s façade protectiveness is a curse in disguise, and anyone that might attempt an attack against you personally will have to be lethal, as to not leave any personal traces behind.

The windows rattle again and you whimper, scared. Your heart is racing with the just thought of an invasion. Even though you have absolute confidence in your skills and you know that you can protect yourself if need be, you don’t want to live looking over your shoulder; you want to be able to sleep in peace, without staying half awake in case of emergencies.

The wind sings again and this time, you cry over this sad, sad song.

“We talked about you.”

“You are a proper bastard, Lee Minho,” You feel sick. Your stomach turns and churns and you feel like you’re about to faint. “You truly are–“

“I told her I’m in love with you.”

Once you bring your hand up, you can’t bring it down– no matter how much you argue with yourself. You just can’t.

“I told her about us,” He closes his eyes, expecting to fuel you with enough anger to have you strike him across the face. You need this, and he deserves it. “That we keep each other at arm’s length, that we barely talk, that we–

“And how did that result in her entering you sleeping quarters?” If you hear one more fault in your relationship, you think you’ll break. You’ll give up. And you can’t give up, not now, not when you two are finally talking.

“She wrote to me saying she was passing through the village on her way East. I told her to come visit.”

“At night?!”

“It’s the only time that you are not next to me,” He mumbles, hands behind himself, holding back the want to reach out and bring you closer and closer and closer until you are practically one. “And I didn’t want her next to you. I know about her feelings for me, she makes them plenty obvious, and I did not want her to shred the little trust you have in me.”

“And how do you think that is working for you, my King?” Your voice is pure venom. “How do you think that shred of trust is dealing?”

“It is not, I know that, okay?!”

“Do you, Minho?” You cry out, and you fist finds his chest. And then again. And again. And you hit him until you con’t have the energy to do so anymore, but it doesn’t help; you don’t feel better, you just feel tired. “How could you do this to me? She almost killed me! She almost killed you! Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t leave you,” Minho whispers, frowning as the image of your bloody gown comes back to mind. “And because I wouldn’t take her as my lover. Adeline was under the false belief that once the time came, I would take her as my Queen. That I was in love with her.”

“Wasn’t you?”

“I loved her,” He explains. “Like you love Chan. Like family love each other… or at least like I thought family was supposed to love each other. I don’t have much experience in the area, but that is what I imagined having a sister was like. Adeline, on the other hand, had envisioned us a future.”

“You love her,” You nod, and this is the first time you two reach an understanding. “But you are not in love with her.”

“Yes…” A puff of air escapes him and you feel it in your face, and you reach a point in which you are not sure if it is rage that still bubbled inside you, or desire. “I am sorry, Y/N. I truly am– all your injuries, all your pain… it is all because of me.”

“No–“

“Yes!” The hold on your shoulders only bring you closer and you close your eyes, feeling his lips brush yours as he speaks. “It is! I– she barely hurt me, but you; God, Y/N, you were stabbed! You had blood all over you! You were unconscious for days and all I could do was sit by you and cry, begging whatever is out there to wake you up! I… I never felt so powerless in my life.”

“Don’t be foolish,” You frown, hand moving to cradle his face. “You’re the most powerful man I know, Lee Minho.”

“Not when it comes to you,” Your husband whispers. “When it comes to you, I’m as powerless at the next man… I am simply at your service, my Queen.”

You hold your breath as he leans closer, and, when he kisses you, it is all very familiar.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Those words will haunt you for the rest of your life. The way Minho’s eyes bulge slightly in surprise, since he’s clearly forgotten about this step in the confirmation of your union, so you take the lead. With a rehearsed giggle, you offer him a gentle pull, hand gripping his so harshly that you would not be surprise if it stopped his blood flow.

“Are you ready?” He whispers, nosing your cheek in a false adoring motion. The kingdom is watching, you remind yourself, and you raise your hand to back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair that escapes his heavy crown.

“Yes, my King,” You whisper back, and for the first time, you notice you’re shaking.

When his lips touch yours for the first time, it’s simple. It’s a light touch, and you’ve heard about this kind of kiss; the ones the maidens in the village talk about when they tell tales of their escapades. The Teasing Kiss, they called it, and you’ve never really understood what they meant until that moment. Until he pulled away, your mouth chasing his and wanting more. And then he kisses you again, coming right back, and the cheers and screams from the thousands of people watching you two gets drowned out by the increased pressure, the increased need. His lips are faster, more desperate, and it’s almost like they search for something within you, coaching an answer out of you, and the best way you can give him what he want is to give him what he wants. You follow his lead, and you are not sure for how long the two of you push, and pull, and give, and take, and it’s only when the priest coughs uncomfortably that you focus enough to pull away.

“Now please,” Minho says, even though he is still breathless and shocked. “Bow down to my Queen.”

His hand is in yours, guiding you through the hallways you’ve gotten so used to walk alone. You don’t know how to feel; you don’t know what to do. You’ve never imagined this possible, but he seems to be in such a hurry that you barely have time to gather you thoughts before you’re being led inside his chambers; before you are being sat down in his bed and he is moving quickly around the spacious quarters. Your eyes follow him, the sun shining through the window and hitting his back, and you can see his muscles through his shirt. You are distracted for a second, but once he opens the doors of his wardrobes you feel your heart stop– your eyes prickle with tears at the sight of an almost empty space. Only a few shirts and britches in view, and you start to wonder if he truly sleeps in this room.

“Wha–“

“Here you go, my Queen,” Minho mumbles shyly, face tainted red. His hands give you a set of clothes to change, and you frown at him, confused. “You can dress in mine instead… if you’d like, of course.”

“Thank you,” You mumble, blinking up at him. Your hands are slow, and you even dare to smile at him, now blushing yourself.

In hopes to escape from his intense gaze, you look around, and everything seems normal; desk full of unsigned decrees, a couple of painting by his wall, a small pile of dirty laundry to be taken by the maids. Typical to men’s fashion, he seems truly embarrassed by his lack of royal behavior in the privacy of his own chambers, and you her him muttering something as he quickly moves around, hiding his dirty clothes in the empty wardrobe and moving to tidy his bed. His large, wide bed. With only one messy side.

“Do you even sleep here?” You joke, getting up from where you sit.

“O-Of course!” His nervous stammering is endearing to you. “Where else would I sleep?”

“It’s just… only one side seems slept on,” You feel as ridiculous as you probably sound, standing next to him while hugging his clothes and pointing to his bed. You feel almost childish.

“Ah, yes, well,” Long ago you’ve learned that your husband and the King are two distinct people. It was obvious from the way he behaved, sometimes, and you might’ve been biased, but you preferred your husband. You love your husband. “That’s my side of the bed. The other side is… well, is yours.”

“But you never let me sleep in here,” You worry that you are whining, pouting, and you straighten your back, composing yourself.

“I didn’t want to force you into a loveless marriage,” His hands move to grabs yours, pulling you closer to him. The way he looks at your clothes is enough to have him sighing in frustration and you chuckle, amused at this new found behavior of his. “Didn’t want to disgrace you by making you lay next to a man you don’t love.”

“But I do love you,” You say, and the way his head shoots up, eyes searching yours and then simply staring, is enough to make your knees buckle. Thankfully he has his hands around your waist now, body pushing against yours until your back is on the wall, shivering in contact with the cold surface. “I’ve asked to sleep here before, I’ve asked to–“

“I thought you were simply trying to appease me,” He shakes his head, desperately trying to argue in your defense. His hair falls over his eyes and you really, really want to reach out and push it away– you want him to see you, you want his to see all of you. “I thought… I thought you were trying to keep up appearances.”

“The night terrifies me,” You whisper as your head cocks to the side, voice wavering as tears roll down under the relief of finally dragging this out of your chest. “The dark a-and the silent, and b-being alone, it’s all too much, Minho. I’m scared all the time! I never know when someone will appear in front of me with a knife or attempt to poison my food! I never know when will be the last time I see Chan, or my parents, or– or you! I know you married me in search for personal protection and I am confident in my abilities, I swear I am, but I am so, so scared.”

“Why did you never mention this to me?” His voice breaks and you can’t believe how hurt he looks. “I’m your husband, my love, I am here to soothe you and calm you. I am here to protect you even if that costs me my life.”

“Then what would be your use for me?” You shrug, looking down in shame. “Why would you need me?”

“Because I love you,” His mouth covers your gently, giving you a quick kiss. “Because I need you,” Another one. “Because you are my Queen and I am your King.”

“I love you,” You tell him again, holding his face in your hands. “I love you so much.”

“Let me protect you,” He but begs, eyes pouring out more emotion than you’ve ever seen. “You don’t have to watch over your shoulder anymore; you don’t have to fear the dark, my love, because I will be laying right next to you, and I’ll hold you in my arms until you feel safe enough to sleep. I… I was an idiot, and for that I apologize. For that and so much more, but I am sorry for putting you in such position, I should’ve never done that. I should’ve been a better husband– a proper husband.”

You say nothing, too overwhelmed by his sudden change.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” The smile that blooms in his lips has you sighing in happiness. “Starting now.”

“Welcome to the family, my darling,” Minho’s mother smiles as he introduces her to you. It is the first time you meet the former Queen, and you see parts of your husband in her face– you see his smile in hers, and hints of the way his eyes disappear under such smile, just like hers.

“Thank you, my Queen,” You bow down respectfully, afraid to look into her eyes in case there is a mistaken understanding of defiance. You know how the power succession happens, and you know the resentment that can linger once it’s gone– all that power, all those riches. And the last thing you want is to cross your new mother-in-law.

“Look at me, my Queen,” Her voice is cold like ice, and once her fingers touch your chin, you feel as if it almost burns. “Ah. Just as I thought…”

“I–“

“You’ll do well,” She whispers. “You’re strong. He needs someone strong… he’s been strong by himself for too long, now.”

Waking up next to your husband is everything you’ve imagined it would be. His arms, tight and secure around your waist, reminds you that from now on, you won’t be alone. You won’t be alone during the day, and you won’t be alone during the nights, because now you truly have a husband; one that loves you, and adores you, and one that you love and care for back.

The night went by too fast, is what you conclude as you notice him stirring awake; you could still hear him whispering all about the days he felt he had to keep you at arms length, and you just now realize how much attention he payed while you were in your own world, floating around in your head. He tells you about the day you wore the deep red dress, and how beautiful you looked; he talks about the week he spent getting your garden ready, hoping to not ruin the surprise; he talks about how sometimes he used to– and still does– gets jealous of Chan, and of all the memories he has with you, and all the intimacy you two share, and all the laughs, the smiles, the hugs. He wanted it all– he still wants it all.

And now he can finally have it.

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

aaaaahhh I’ve had this saved on my computer for so long now and I finally decided to post it :D King!Minho really does it for me 🤡❤️ what do you think of this one my lovelies? Let me know! Share, comment, help a struggling writer lol as always, thank you so much for your support <3 means the world!!!

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids as #skz imagines #skz #skz imagine #skz as #bang chan #Lee Minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim Seungmin #yang jeongin #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #imagine #imagines #multifandom imagines #scenario #kpop scenarios #lee know scenario #lee minho scenario #one shot #royalty minho

[thisworldisrotten]

I posted 1,441 times in 2021

89 posts created (6%)

1352 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 15.2 posts.

I added 1,300 tags in 2021

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i go wild wtf i forget that it's cannon wtffff wilwjwakiwprkwlrk (rabid dog noises) corset light corset light corset light corset light cor-

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

discuss.

143 notes • Posted 2021-09-05 09:02:10 GMT

#4

Made my problematic faves' beautiful faces on artbreeder

148 notes • Posted 2021-07-28 17:21:17 GMT

#3

Broke: Light is a better person because of L

Woke: L is a even worse person because of Light

219 notes • Posted 2021-06-10 16:49:44 GMT

#2

Calling any of them a Human Person is highly debatable but you get the point

453 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 09:29:13 GMT

#1

Au where everything is the same except Light wears booty shorts to the tennis match

701 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 17:19:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #lolz

[musingmycelium]

and three makes (entertaining) company

[astarion/wyll/mc threesome] [ao3]

Astarion flops on the bed with a huff. It’s the first time the three of them have had a proper bed and what do they do? Leave him behind in the inn while they run errands just because Marsaili said something about a surprise to which Wyll had agreed with a long look in his direction, a look which had done absolutely nothing to quell his desire to drag them both back to their room.

 Every candle in the room is lit, if the innkeeper wanted to be stingy Astarion would use every damn candle until it burned to nothing more than a nub. Though if he’s honest they’re not doing much. Just throwing weak flickering light about the place and he sneers halfheartedly at the ceiling.

 If he’s more honest Astarion knows he wouldn’t be this pissy if he had company.

 But Astarion is not in the business of being honest, much less with himself. Flat on his back, kicking his legs back and forth off the edge, what do they expect him to do? It’s boring by himself. Counting whirls in the wooden rafters above him loses his interest instantly, he determined the poor quality of the sheets the moment he had landed on them, and the idea of unpacking his supplies to go through them is. Eugh, no.

Turning his head to the side he can make out his pile stacked haphazardly next to Wyll’s and Marsaili’s much neater arrangements. Sighs heavily with his cheek squished into the bed sheets. This is ridiculous. Musing over himself, until, in the candlelight, something glints in his open satchel and Astarion blinks slowly. Grin sliding across his face.

Why didn’t he think of that sooner? Those two aren’t the only ones who get to go shopping for surprises. If they’re going to leave him alone he can make sure they don’t want to do it again soon.

Standing slowly Astarion makes his way over to his pile and rummages around for a brief moment before pulling a deep black corset out. Delicate silver clasps drip down the down the main body of the corset ready to hold the crimson stockings folded under it. Somewhere in the mess of clothes in there should be the matching short chemise and it takes him quite a bit longer to find it stuffed alongside his other clothes but with a triumphant grunt Astarion yanks it out too.

It’s slightly wrinkly but that’s fine, it’s going under the corset anyway. Astarion stands and tosses the shirt over to the bed, walking over with the corset and stockings in hand. Placing them gently on the bed sheets before he starts undressing. Without anyone to watch he doesn’t really feel like putting much effort into it so he quickly sheds his clothes and throws them back towards his rucksack, they mostly make it. Not his current problem.

Under his bare feet the floorboards are rough, loose ends and splinters in the cheap wood and he just bought these stockings there’s not a chance he’s going to risk snagging them on the first night he gets to wear them. Astarion climbs back on the bed and grabs the stockings first, pauses.

And starts pulling them on slowly. Thin crimson whispers over his leg smoothly, his knuckles grazing his skin momentarily. He’s alone, no rush in getting dressed, thoughts wandering to what his lovers would have to say if they could see him. What will they say when they do return.

His chemise is next. The same deep red as his stockings but no longer transparent, it falls to the tops of his thighs and no further. Nowhere to hide exactly how badly he wants them both to come walking through that door just to see him. Because they’re going to have to apologize before they can touch him. Astarion grins wickedly in the candlelight, smooths his hands over the chemise before trailing his hands down his thighs.

Oh he is going to make them beg his forgiveness.

Unfastening the front of the corset Astarion checks the back to make sure it’s loose before he wraps it around himself. Dark black silk and silver embroidery spun like spider webs across the whole body, it’s perfect. Buttons hidden in the embroidery but Astarion makes quick work of them down his front before turning his attention to the lacing. It has been a very long time since he’s had to put on a corset by himself.

Arms behind his back, counting the rows of lace thread to find the middle and tugging gently. Takes a breath and tugs a little harder and the threads pull tighter until the corset is comfortably snug around him. A sly smile slips across his face as he ties the loops of lace together and he’s nearly done. Little silver clasps opening greedily for the tops of his stockings, clicking shut with soft sighs.

There isn’t a mirror in the inn, hells Astarion would be surprised if there was a mirror within fifty miles of this flea ridden dump, but. It isn’t like he’d be able to see himself in one anyways. Besides. He stretches, bending at the waist to grasp his ankles only to run his hands up his stocking covered legs, fingertips lingering over the clasps connecting them to his corset. Brushes the bottom of his chemise where it peeks out below his corset and cups his hands around his waist.

Lifts his hands slowly up his torso, palms on his collarbone and neck.

His smile grows, he doesn’t need a mirror to know exactly how fucking good he looks right now.

Good enough to eat. But when his lovers come back he’s not going to let them. Oh no, not until they repent on their knees for him. Whatever “surprise” they have in store Astarion’s will come first. They won’t be able to do anything except look at him, beg him to let them touch him.

Closing his eyes he can see it, the door opening and the pair of them walking in to find him spread out on their bed. Dressed up for them. How their eyes would light up, Wyll’s softly and Marsaili’s hungrily. Get close enough to touch only for him to tell them no.

Astarion swallows a rough noise, tension beginning to burn in his gut. He turns over on his stomach, presses himself into the bed sheets and keeps his eyes shut.

Would they beg for him quickly, falling to the floor with pleas. No, no they absolutely would not but Astarion hasn’t ever let little things like reality get in the way of his fantasy before. Marsaili on their knees, Wyll kneeling beside them. The bed sheets don’t have enough friction and Astarion rolls back over, wrapping a hand around himself wishing it was one of theirs.

Loose touches just barely what he wants. If he can dream about them begging so soon he can dream about their touch on his overheated skin. Stroking himself slowly, imagined teasing caresses, behind his eyelids Marsaili twists their fingers in his chemise and Wyll’s hand wraps around his thigh.

Faster only slightly, biting his lips to keep his restraint.

Astarion opens his eyes and glances at the door. They’ve been gone an awfully long time, who could blame him if he didn’t keep it all the way. No one’s here to stop him from having fun all by himself now are they.

Dropping his gaze from the door to their piled belongings, one of Wyll’s bags is on top and Astarion smirks. It’s a little more difficult to concentrate than usual but he conjures up his mage hand and rifles through the bag. Doesn’t even have to step across the room, not with these stockings on, even if he’s going more by feel this far away.

Clicking his tongue Astarion keeps rifling, he shouldn’t have expected to find a slim vial easily in there. Marsaili tends to hoard useless junk and stick it in their bags when theirs gets full and it seems Wyll’s bag is an easier target. Breathing erratically, his hand stuttering. Come on, it’s got to be in there somewhere.

Invisible fingers wrap around glass, there it is. Perfect. Astarion has the hand bring it over and dissipates the spell, pulls the stopper out of the glass and breathes it in. Oh, this isn’t Wyll’s oil, it’s Marsaili’s. The thick smell of the woods envelops him like moss around the bottom of a tree. Shivering Astarion spills a few drops on his hand and returns it around his cock. Corks the oil and lets it fall out of his grasp.

No teeth hold his groan back this time. Not enough to be slick only enough to be felt, the oil lights every sensation on fire. Astarion bucks his hips into his hand and burns. Long moments in the candlelight, losing himself in fantasy.

Cracks open his eyes with a gasp. The bottom of his chemise whispers against his skin as he tips his head back. Where did he put the vial, dropped it into the sheets around here just a moment ago. Scrambling around with his free hand to find it, slowing with his other. Fingertips brush against glass again and Astarion seizes it.

Unstops the vial and the woods envelop him and Astarion drips more oil but onto his other hand this time. Shifts up on unsteady spread legs, kneeling in the middle of the bed. Thumbs the cork back in the vial and sets on top of the sheets where he can see it. His chest rises and falls rapidly under the tight grasp of his corset and Astarion knows the heat spreading from his cheeks to his toes is visible under his skin.

 Not that anyone is here to see it. Yet.

Astarion reaches around to press an oiled finger inside himself and his eyes fall shut one more time. Twisting his wrist on his cock, picturing Marsaili’s smooth grip around his flushed skin. If only his finger were wider the illusion of it being Wyll’s would be easier to pass off. His own touch is a poor substitute even when he sinks a second finger in beside the first and stretches himself on them. Curls his toes into the candlelit air. Heat pools in his gut and Astarion can hardly breathe in the scent of cedar and the flickering light beyond his eyelids isn’t enough to replace the vision of his lovers.

Their murmurs in his ear, their fingers on his skin. Every inch where they could touch him, tease him, work him up into such a mess  he’d beg for them without hesitation. Astarion knows pleasure would come from his pleas. Trusts them to deliver what they promise.

Whines just thinking about it, low and needy and loud and -

Someone knocks on the door.

 “Astarion? We’re back.” Marsaili’s voice is smug through the door and Astarion catches his breath after getting it knocked out of him.

There isn’t time for him to get presentable, not by a long shot, but he drops his touch and wipes the excess oil on the edge of the sheets and falls sideways. Propping one leg up when the door opens and Wyll walks in first. He blinks in the relative darkness, a handful of packages stuffed under his arms which he takes over to their pile of supplies. That absolutely won’t do.

Astarion hums pleasantly, only a touch breathlessly, “Certainly took the pair of you long enough.” Watches Wyll stack the packages neatly before he turns around and finally, finally after full seconds, looks at him. Takes him in slowly, Astarion in his spiderweb corset and red stockings and candlelight waiting with a smirk, it’s exactly the picture he wanted to paint when he picked them out.

Watches his head shake slightly and his eyes widen and Astarion lets him walk forward until he’s close enough to reach out and “You don’t get to touch me until you apologize.”

They’re only words and they’re enough to stop Wyll’s hand in the air entirely. It’s intoxicating what trust can do to a person. Melt them without a single touch. Astarion watches him again, would watch him forever, as Wyll licks his lips and asks, “Apologize for what?”

Pouting for full effect, “For leaving me all by myself.” Astarion draws his eyes up and rolls a shoulder back and pleads playfully, “I was so bored without anyone else here.” He flicks his eyes from Wyll to Marsaili standing by their supplies fiddling with yet another package. What in the hells did they pick up.

Whatever, he turns his full attention back to Wyll and bats his eyelashes at him because really why not.

“I’m sorry we left you so alone,” Wyll’s smile is half mischief, leaning closer to whisper near Astarion’s ear, “but if you’re going to dress like this when we do I don’t think I can promise not to do it again.” The heat scarcely cooled under Astarion’s skin flares back to life and for a heart stopping moment he forgets how to breathe. “May I”

Astarion doesn’t care about what he’s about to ask. Touch him, look at him, fuck him senseless he doesn’t care one whit. “Please.”

Softly Wyll’s hand cups his cheek to tilt his head up and Astarion sighs shakily into his kiss. Tension curls through his veins in flashes of fire shooting sparks in his blood. Digs his canines into Wyll’s bottom lip to slip inside with his gasp, shapes his name on Wyll’s tongue. He could kiss him a thousand times and still be surprised by how sweetly it tastes.

Warm fingers splay across his corset and Wyll drags his hand from Astarion’s cheek down his neck to the top of his chemise. Plays with the edge, dipping touches under and curling fingers around the cloth. Astarion moves where his hands lead him, shifting up so he’s kneeling on the bed where he had been minutes before by himself. Wyll pulls back from the kiss, the bed creaking under his weight as he sits behind Astarion. Rearranges them, his hands on Astarion’s waist tugging him back until he’s flush against Wyll’s chest and his legs are spread around his thighs.

Wyll’s lips brush his ear, his hands wandering down to play with the fastenings holding his stockings in place. Teasing the inside of his thighs, “Looks like you were able to entertain yourself just fine without us.” Callused fingers circle his cock and stroke him slowly and Astarion nearly chokes on a surprised groan.

He tips his head back and rolls his hips, “Of course I did, I’m very good at it.” Losing himself a little in the sensations, cool air and candle light and Wyll’s touch on his skin. Eyes open and unfocused.

Laughing lowly Wyll twists his wrist. Pulls at one of the fastenings with his free hand and lets it snap against Astarion’s skin. “Marsaili, what do you think about showing Astarion the surprise we got for him?”

Goosebumps rise across his skin and Astarion blinks rapidly to pull himself back. A hand rests itself by his knee, when did they get so close, not touching him for a moment. A moment suspended in breathless anticipation. Marsaili leans over him,“I, too, am sorry we left you alone.” Soft in the room, smug whispers in the dark. Words close enough Astarion could kiss them off their lips. “But only because if we’d brought you we could have had you that much sooner.”

Twitching under Wyll’s hand, hips jerking at their words, soothed by Wyll’s touch.

“Wyll asked what I think, well, I’ve been thinking that delicate little ass of yours deserves a good fuck.” Marsaili’s fingers wrap under his jaw, forcing him to tilt his head back and meet their gaze. Oh but the heat he finds there could set even his dead heart racing. Certainly more than enough to send flames licking down his spine. Nails scrape across his skin and Astarion bites back another groan. “What do you think?”

It’s a question but it isn’t for him. Opening his mouth to answer anyway only gets Marsaili’s thumb on his lips. “It does leave the problem of his mouth.” Sly smile growing wicked, eyes flicking to the left.

Shivering, Astarion rolls his hips again, Wyll’s hand squeezes his hips once before he lets go of the straps on his corset. Hears the grin in his voice, “I can take care of that.” Delicately his hand wraps around Astarion’s neck and Astarion’s eyes flutter shut.

Kneeling between the two of them, legs spread around Wyll’s thighs with nothing to hide how hard he aches under Wyll’s touch. The fabric of Wyll’s shirt drags against Astarion’s bare skin in a promise he can almost taste. Not yet, but soon.

“And he did work so hard dressing himself up,” Marsaili’s fingers drag down jaw hungrily and meet Wyll’s hand around his throat. “It would be a shame to take him out of it.” Lips ghosting over his cheek in a breath warm enough to send sparks rushing across his skin.

Their nails dig into the skin at the base of his neck, little red lines disappearing down under his chemise as their touch trails lower. Pressing against his corset Marsaili’s hand rises with each shuddering breath Astarion manages to take. His fantasies never have the same heat in them, the realities of their hands on him isn’t something he can replicate, Wyll twists his wrist again and Astarion groans outright.

“Go ahead and come up here Marsaili,” Wyll’s voice is low in his ear, tight and soft and Astarion wants to unravel it completely. “I think he missed the show you gave putting it on.”

Astarion blinks, he missed what exactly? But Wyll’s fingers tighten around his throat and his hand stokes against his heated skin and whatever he missed doesn’t matter anymore. Especially as the bed dips once more and Marsaili joins the pair of them already on the bed. And.

 Oh That’s what he missed.

Swallowing hard Astarion tips his head back onto Wyll’s chest with a jerk of his hips, it is a surprise he could forgive them for. Thin leather straps wrap around Marsaili’s waist and hold a thick glass cock close to their hips. Marsaili’s smile is sharp to match the press of their nails returning to his jaw, fingertips on his lips. Leaning forward and Astarion’s heart would stop dead in his chest if it still beat.

But instead of him Marsaili kisses Wyll. Their hand grips him tightly and Wyll’s touch stutters under Marsaili’s attention and it’s a kiss of gasps and edges and want. A night of patient desire being fulfilled. Astarion’s stomach flips, he’s been told the stories about butterflies but it can’t be so gentle, not for him, even if it feels like it could be.

It doesn’t take them long to shift positions. Turning Astarion to his knees between them with Marsaili to his back and Wyll in front of him. Making good on his promise Wyll’s hand on his throat guides Astarion lower and he follows easily, sighs as Wyll frees himself to Astarion’s attention, while Marsaili laughs when they ask where the oil is. Their hands slide up his thighs, brushing his chemise up past his ass, the pop of the cork from the vial fills the air around them with the scent of the woods once more and holy darkness Astarion aches.

Wants. With Marsaili’s hands squeezing his ass Astarion laps at Wyll’s already hard cock, salt beading under his tongue. Strong hands on his shoulders, the first time they did this they made the mistake of letting Wyll grab Astarion’s hair and Astarion still shudders at the memory of those memories returning. It only took the one time to learn, one night ending in a different sort of intimacy, a sharing of fear instead of pleasure. So Wyll’s fingers dig into his shoulder blades instead of his scalp and Astarion trusts him.

But that’s a little too honest, a little too open. And there’s a perfectly good distraction in front of him. Mouthing at the tip of Wyll’s cock teasingly Astarion circles his hand around the base before sinking down as far as he can manage tucking his fangs carefully behind his lips. Flicks his gaze back up to Wyll and swirls his tongue.

And behind him Marsaili proves themselves ample distraction with an oil slick finger. He groans around Wyll’s cock but doesn’t stop his attention. Humming delightedly Marsaili easily presses a second finger inside and scissors them apart, “You certainly did entertain yourself while we were out didn’t you.”

Astarion doesn’t bother to answer because it isn’t a question. Quiet laughter follows a second pop and Astarion bobs his head on Wyll’s cock hungrily. Strokes his hand over what little he can’t fit in his mouth. Wyll’s fingers grasp tightly at the hem of his chemise in time with the restrained jerks of his hips into Astarion’s mouth. Little gasps in the night.

Moans outright as the blunt tip of Marsaili’s glass cock enters him. His voice mixes with Wyll’s and Astarion shudders back trying to press himself flush with Marsaili’s hips. Slides his tongue flat against Wyll’s cock and turns his attention back to the tip.

Heady salt and heavy pressure, hot pleasure building under his skin and Astarion burns under their touch. Marsaili’s hand wraps around his own cock in a perfectly loose grip, stroking him off in time with their deep thrusts. It’s entirely too much all at once. He doesn’t hold back the noises Marsaili draws out of him in the slightest, no, oh no he lets them sound around Wyll’s cock and sinks down lower. Lavishes Wyll with the same care Marsaili gives him.

Wyll’s controlled voice unravels slowly but the press of his nails into Astarion’s back above his corset is hard to match the short jerks of his hips. Choked little noises he could coax from him over and over and over again and he would never get enough of them. But. Astarion smirks around his cock and sucks hard. Nothing matches Wyll’s broken moan as he comes down the back of Astarion’s throat.

And if the sharp stutter of Marsaili’s hips is anything to go by he’s not the only one appreciative of Wyll’s noises.

Their hand twists around his cock as he swallows greedily, changing the angle on their thrusts to hit the one spot that makes him see stars every time. Full of sensation, warmth crawling under his skin in flowing tendrils of pleasure. Balling up tightly in his gut. Wyll’s hand strokes his bare shoulders and it’s enough, his touch is always enough. Astarion cries out in the candlelit dark under his lover’s hands.

Out of focus and fuzzy a flickering haze over his vision. Nothing but touch and murmurs and tingling washed out heat. What an honest thing to trust. To linger in the golden glow.

Marsaili pulls out gently with a word in Wyll’s direction but Astarion isn’t exactly paying them any mind. Far too blissed out to care about what they’re talking about, even when they softly unbutton his corset and unfasten his stockings. He knows they’ll take care of them, of him.

Besides, cleaning up isn’t often his job anyways.

Though he must have said it aloud because Wyll laughs before kissing his cheek, “Not tonight it isn’t.” Still fully dressed with not a hair out of place. Unbelievable.

“Go-” Astarion gives him a weak wave before he realizes he really doesn’t have any particular end to his command, “Go undress or something why don’t you. Suddenly I think I’ll be going to bed early.”

Snorting from across the room Marsaili makes a comment Astarion can only halfway hear but understands perfectly. He sniffs, “If you don’t want to join me Marsaili I hear Shadowheart’s room is still open.”

They shake their head, “Move over you’re going to hog all the blankets again.” Head tilted, night shift half on, Marsaili glows in the candlelight and Astarion can’t quite look at them without smiling.

He does as he asked, makes room for both of them on the bed and this time between them Astarion’s dead heart hopes to beat for an entirely different reason.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #wyll #astarion x wyll x mc #marsaili #my writing #hi #uhm its a quarter past 2 am and i wrote this over like two months what is happening

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 5

This took me a little longer than expected because school has me wrapped up in papers and research projects. Someone do this work for me so I can sleep since I haven’t slept well in nights!!!!!!

But anyway. This chapter was interesting to write and I hope that y’all enjoy!!! 

Next Chapter 

Previous Chapter 

Masterlist 

Damn him. Damn him damn him! Grabbing the closest random vase to chuck it against the wall. Me! Sleeping with Peter? I would rather die in a pile of shit that had smallpox than sleep with that moron! It’s been a day and I still find those words making my stomach curl! Maybe another vase? Ah these this naked porcelain statue. Chucking it against the wall as it finally made me feel a little better.

How did I allow one man to have such control over my emotions! To flood my mind, body, and soul as if he is a flash flood in the valley! I don’t even..I’m going to drive myself into a pit of never ending darkness. That damn man with those...beautiful blue pools of his eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. I’ve never seen such beautiful eyes in my life. Those strong cheekbones that could cut someone with a knife.

FUCK!

Maybe write a letter..I imagine the family is missing me and I’ve only written two letters so far here. Father is probably worried that I’ve been converted to the Orthodox ways. (Well I’ve been breaking the laws of the catholic church but luckily these people are too busy with themselves). I sat down at my desk to begin thinking on how to send back a positive message when I’m dying on the inside.

Dear Father.

Remind me to never make allies with Russia if I ever become Queen of Italy. These people are uncultured, disgusting horny toads! It feels like I have walked into a brothel except they’re not a bunch of dirty poor people. Now it’s a vast amount of extremely broad people on the court.

I’m not asking for you to save me or come galavanting from the homeland to come save me. Catherine still needs a lot of help and it’s getting worse before it gets better. To think that I gave the Russians the benefit of the doubt because I knew Catherine would be a little sensitive to the whole situation. But this is just horrible. I literally witnessed the Emperor laying with someone in the middle of the hall!

This is definitely a reminder of what not to do when I become Duchess at least. No wild parties at court more than once a week, and no.

My chamber doors bursted open to see Marial storming in, closing the doors behind her. She turned her back and leaned against the door. A panic expression was written on her face as I was waiting for an explanation.

“Yes Marial?” Asking as I continued to work on my letter.

“We’ve got a problem?” I took a sip of my wine that I had sitting out with me.

“Don’t we always?”

“It’s Catherine.” Putting down the quill as I turned around in my chair to stare at her.

“Is Catherine alright?”

“Now that she's Leo , yes. But the ladies..they did something bad. Not extremely bad but bad.” Is this a situation where I should be extremely worried? Worried? Or just a pat on the shoulder should make her feel better.

“After we passed out the eggs to the ladies of the court, Lady Svenska invited her to the tea party she threw, they were in a dance and one of the ladies punched her in the noise and caused her nose blood.” No. NO! NOT WHILE I’M AROUND!

“Are they still at their dance?” Popping up from the chair as I walked over to my trunk.

“Yes. They will be for another hour or two.” Which means pastries and tea will be required. Did I bring it? I really thought I brought it YES!

“Please let Catherine know that I will be handling these women the way they should’ve been. Tossed back down to the station they truly belong in, not what they thought.” Ordering Marial as I rang my bell for Fernanda. She came in as I placed the bottle on the end of the desk.

“Yes M’Lady.”

“Did we bring tea dance attire?” Asking her as she nodded.

“Great. Get my full attire ready, I’m going to way these peasants.” AS before you know I hate wearing the wigs, corsets, layers of face paint, and the dress. But duty calls in this situation because no one lays a hand on my cousin!

Taking off my boots as I heard someone come running into my room as I waited to see who it was. Catherine slid in as I was still sitting there taking off my boots. If she thought she could talk me out of this then she’s surely mistaken.

“Chiara please don’t!” Catherine begged as Fernanda came in with the dress as Catherine looked like she was going to explode.

“You don’t have any idea how this country works and if you do something like this then you could ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.” Catherine stood directly in front of me as I leaned back against the chair.

“Well your last plan turned out to be a disaster and look what they did!”

“Minor setbacks tend to happen in these situations.”

“You’d call that minor?” Pointing directly as her nose as I got up from my desk.

“Please Chiara just because this works in your country doesn’t mean the same thing here. Peter will see this as an attack and were right in the middle of a war! He would be more than happy to send soldiers just because you caused half the women of the court to suffer.” Rolling my eyes as I began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Might I make a suggestion?” Marial poked her head into the bedroom as we both turned to face her.

“There’s always smacking me down.” See we wouldn’t be in this situation if Catherine would’ve just listened to Marial and I!

“Yes! Look if you don’t smack her down then I’ll be taking this matter into my own hand. And of course it has to be in public. And you’ll really have to say something to really piss off Catherine.” She knows that if she doesn’t do it then I’ll be doing what I do best.

“The horse fucking.”

“Cause allegedly you did. Though I don’t know how you would but maybe if you sort of..”

“Fine. Tonight Elizabeth is throwing a party in honor of the archbishop being selected so I guess we’ll do it there. Can we talk privately?” Catherine whispered as I looked at Fernanda to leave the room. Marial followed suit to close the bedroom door for me to sit back down at my desk.

“Though I appreciate you willing to avenge my attack. I think you enjoy getting ahead of yourself.”

“We’re family. No one hurts la mia famiglia.” I turned away from her to walk over to the small liquor table that sits in my bedroom. Pouring her a glass of wine then grabbing mine from my desk.

“Here. Something to make you feel a little at home.” Handing it to her then she looked at the bottle.

“Gaja Ornellaia. Dark and sweet.” Clinking glasses together as we both took a sip. Motioning her to sit as she sighed.

“How do you deal with women of the court? Sucking up to them sounds torturous and there’s no way that I can stoop to their level of living.” Catherine sat down on one of the loveseats for me to sit down at my desk.

“This court is one that I won’t be forgetting till the day I die. It’s one that has been let loose to do their own bidding. For the moment I wouldn’t suck up to them, but obviously we’re on a mission to make everyone in favor of you instead of Peter. So gifts. Not like your golden eggs but something that will truly aid them in their boring day to day lives. Maybe a better doctor for instance, or even a dentist. Lord knows how rotted their teeths are and could use at least some sort of cleaning. Though they say their modern, it’s more a barbaric modern.”

“You’re the empress Catherine. You have a lot more power at your fingertips then you realize and they’re trying to make you inferior because you’re new to the court. If you really wanted to you could strip down Svenska from her station if you truly wanted to. Lord knows I would at this point in my mind.”

“The ladies are led by Svenska with the amount of money..”

“Who's the Empress of Russia? Who rules Russia? The donkey face can’t even work up the courage to hit you she sends one of her ladies to do it. I really need to find that mean bone in your body and drag it out of you. I’d hate to say it but there is no such thing as a loving Queen. Most of us who are in royal power must rule with an iron fist but that doesn’t mean to be a monster onto the people like your moron of a husband.”

“Be truthful and fair to the people. Gain their trust in the way they need it, not you.” Close enough.

“Tell me Chiara. What exactly were you going to do with the ladies if I hadn’t come by to stop you?”

“Remember that cruise two years ago?”

“Chiara!”

“What! It worked last time, why wouldn’t it work a second time.” It really would’ve and if something like that happens again while I’m around it will work again.

Catherine put her glass of wine down to then lean a little more towards me which caused me to lean back against the seat.

“You’re a lot more bitter than usual. Is everything alright?” No. Everything is not alright! How can any of this be alright! This country! These people! Backwoods! Horny toads that just do whatever they Goddamn please without respecting..Oh it’s not even that! Fucking Grigor accusing me of sleeping with the moron Emporer who has a mind of a child! How dare he accuse me! I wouldn’t have any sort of sexual contact with him if he was the last man on this earth. If the gates of hell were open and the choice for me to go into Heaven was having sex with Peter I still wouldn’t partake in it!

“Peachy. Just absolutely peachy.” Chugging the rest of my wine to then throw my empty glass against the wall.

“You know that scared me for the first few weeks of being here. But now..” Finishing her drink to then chuck it against the wall. Shattering against it as she laid down on the love seat.

“But now it’s become a permanent sound in my mental wallpaper.” Grabbing the bottle to then walk over to where she was laying then sat down next to her. Getting comfortable as I pulled the cork out with my teeth to spit it across the room. Taking a drink to then give her the bottle.

I’ve yet to look at the top of my room since I moved in. They’re cupids that are dancing around in the clouds. Not sure who exactly designed this room but those cupids...they're so masculine..Why are they so muscular? I know no baby ever comes out this muscular no matter who the father is. Zeus himself could not ever make a baby this muscular!

“Catherine. Catherine. Lookup.” Pointing directly at them as her head tilted in curiosity.

“They’re cupids.”

“Yes they’re cupids. But have you ever noticed that they’re extremely muscular. They’re babies and have more muscles than Zeus himself. Just look!” We began laughing as the bottles continued to go back and forth between the both of us. This is exactly what I think we both needed. No men, no Government, not worrying about anything and just laughing at extremely masculine cupids.

“How is Leo? How is having a lover in your life?”

“It’s..intoxicating and confusing. When I first arrived I planned to make Peter fall in love with me as I am a romantic. Then tossed into a wheel of uncertainty. Leo says that he has fallen for me and..it feels so wrong from everything I’ve once believed in.” That’s one word to describe everything I’ve gone through so far.

“Our worlds are messy. We always think that it will be easy as those before us. But the world...people..him..it’s unclear.”

What am I doing? I’m to be a Grand Duchess in the next year or two, there’s a possibility of being a Queen and I’m in a tiny crisis on how to deal with some Russian that’s just using to get back at his wife? That didn’t even feel like the case till he brought up Peter and the accusation. But...look what he’s going through in his life as I imagine he doesn’t want his wife to be behaving like this.

Grigor...Grigor...for some reason the thought of his arms being wrapped around me is helping me fall asleep..so peacefully. He does this thing with his thumb where it glides up and down where it’s placed and it brings such comfort.

After drinking for a little longer than predicted. Catherine and I ended up sleeping directly where we were sitting for more than two hours. Alcohol is such a good night medicine. Fernanda came in to wake us as we both felt like brand new people and we had to get ready for Elizabeths party.

Per usual I truly didn’t feel like getting shoved into a dress and from what I’ve gathered about Elizabeth this party will end up becoming a clothes off party. So why not just dress the part but not get involved. Besides...I want to piss off Grigor for his accusation so why to wear as little as possible for something he’s not receiving.

My beautiful crafted corset that was pink with gold floral designs all around it. My plain white long sleeve shirt was underneath the corset with my nice pair of black pants and boots. Quite the scandal some would say. (But as you know it’s me just trying to be comfortable.)

“Boot dagger.” Fernanda tossed the sheathed knife onto the bed as I placed my boot on the bed and placed it in the boot. And now we’re set.

“Feel free to let loose tonight. I should be able to get myself ready to sleep and probably will be extremely intoxicated.” She nodded as I fixed my shirt so that my chest would be a little more exposed than most times.

Wait, something is missing. Rings yes, boot knife yes, and OH! Necklace! Walking to the desk to pull out my jewelry box to pull out my pearl necklace. The first few rows of pearls were tight around the neck itself then relaxed across my chest. Oh yes. Much better.

Walking out of my bedroom to already hear the madness going down near the end of the hallway. I really need a break from this palace. I’m in Russia and I should be going into the cities to at least see them! Maybe Catherine would be up for a trip to Moscow or Saint Petersburg sometime soon. I think that it would do her some good to go out and see the people to get a complete understanding of the country that she lives in. It does no good for a rising Empress to preach about change when she hasn’t met her own subjects. At home I would constantly go out and about to see my people. Support their businesses and make sure everything was doing okay. Yes her and I are in different situations but going out every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

Walking into the party to see people were holding snakes, animals, and...a bird? I must admit this is one interesting party. Reminds me of when we had an animal exposition a few months back and I got to see a Tiger from China! But I imagine that would be impossible here due to the fact that the tiger would eat all of them up.

Looking around to see the ladies were sitting around the fireplace laughing as I wanted to choke the donkey face till she turned a different color. Ah and George. The Emporers would be where you had the audacity to become angry when Grigor and I were fooling around. The hypocrisy that spills from her mouth is exhausting.

Speaking of Grigor, where is he? Trying not to look suspicious as I searched the room to see him sitting with Peter and children as they drink wine? They look around 10? Mother didn’t even let me touch a drop besides communion till I turned at least 12! He looked directly at me to form a smile on his face. Maybe I over blew the whole situation. Tends to be a problem of mine which I need to fix.

“These parties..so interesting.” Catherine commented as we continued into the party. A waiter passed by with one glass as I snuck it for myself.

“Remember the plan.” Winking as we both sat down with the bitches.

“So. Tell me of your lives here.”

“All is bliss in the court of Peter.”

“Of course life is bliss here. But if tiny improvements could be made, and I could help you as Empress, that would gladden my heart to be a friend and a use to you all.”

“Why don’t you stop the war?” Why don’t you stop being a child? Impossible. They all chuckled as I wanted to scream.

“I will note it down. But it is probably beyond me at this point. Maybe more immediate things.” I can’t chime in on this because I don’t really live here full full time. (Though it feels like I’ve been living here for ages!)

“Well, the carriages are always in disrepair. They do not fix it fast enough.” George chimed in. Always being helpful in gaining her own glory.

“I see. I shall look into it. How is your son Tatyana? Boris. He was unwell?”  

“Fucking Chekhow saw him, but...We need better doctors than the Chekhovs. Boris coughs blood, and the fool puts leeches on his throat. I do not know doctoring but it seems ridiculous. And my dearest Boris gets sicker.” I truly can not imagine the horror of how this country would handle an outbreak of any sort of disease. Even if precautions are made to keep them at bay.

“He basically killed Raisa.”

“Exactly.”

“Indeed. We must have the most modern medicine. We shall bring a new doctor from France.”

“What a friend you are to us. How is Leo?” Is her life so dull that she must pry her big disgusting nose into Catherines love affair? Looking over to Catherine who looked uncomfortable for just a moment then smiled.

“He makes my skin tingle and my heart gladden.” They all giggled as I wanted to scream. It’s a private affair!

“Surely more detail than that. If you really are our friend, we will need you to open up to us, if it is true and we are to feel you love us.”

“Shut up, whore!” OH SHIT! Taking a sip of my wine after Marial yelled at her. In reality I’m trying not to laugh because holy shit that’s funny!

“She cannot…”

“Apologize!” Her and Catherine exchanged a look as I was ready. C’mon Catherine! Use that mean bone!

“I will see her later. Go back to your quarters, Marial.”

“NEEEEEIGH!” Catherine stood up to slap the living shit out of her to the point she almost fell down on the ground. Everyone gasped as I was sipping my wine trying not to laugh at these dumbasses.

“Do not ever do that! That goes for all of you. Am I heard?” The ladies in the circle slightly nodded as my eyes were directly on Svenska. I know the ass face was responsible for this mess and I’ll be dealing with it even after this. Oh did you think I forgot about the whole tea dance? Far from it.

“I have spoken to my husband on this, and he sees it as a sleight on him. If it is heard again, no matter what family, what wealth, they will be a servant stripped of everything and we will slap the shit out of them on a daily basis! Am I heard?” And that is how you do it!

“Marial, wipe the blood from your nose. Pour me wine.” Catherine sat down as Marial began to pour her wine.

“Now, other things you ladies need from me? Lady Svenska, can I help you in any way?”

“No Empress. I am satisfied.”

“Mmm. Marvelous. Good day then.” Catherine got up from her seat as I stayed exactly where I was for a few minutes. I’m waiting to see if ass face will say something smart right after Catherine has left.

“What are you waiting for exactly?” Svenska commented as my focus went directly to her.

“Oh just..watching..and waiting.” Svenska turned back towards Tatyana as I noticed George was staring directly at me. What could she possibly want?

“I think we need to talk.”

“Need or want? I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Her eyebrow was raised at me as I put my drink down.

“And I find it hard to believe that you’re a good woman of any sort. If you want to talk then talk. You have the floor and are ready to tell me all about how you’re the victim and everything you do is for status. Truthfully you enjoy every moment of it that you go out of your own way to spend all your time with him.”

I waited for a few moments for her to say something back against my statement but what does she have against me? Being a whore? She’s already got that covered in her department so what would that even do against me?

“The Emperor is about to announce the new patriarch to the court.” A servant told us as I got up from my chair to then walk away. Stupid woman.

We walked into a large sitting room as the new patriarch was wearing his garments as Peter was standing on top of the love seat. I stood next to Leo as I noticed Grigor was coming to stand next to me.

“The new Patriarch! Huzzah!”

“Huzzah!”

“Oh! To the Empress! She is finding her feet here, and her fists.” Took her a minute but we managed to get it out of her.

“Apparently she fucked a horse before she got here!” Damn it….

“For I am all for fucking and after Archie blesses us we will all begin!”

“Huzzah!” Glad to know that after everyone is blessed that they’re basically saying yeah God take it back. Didn’t need it in the first place.

“Can we talk?” Grigor whispered for me to raise my eyebrow.

“You and your wife truly love to talk don’t you?” Not looking directly at him as I kept my head straight forward.

“Please Chiara. I really….” Maybe he is sorry. I feel like this is becoming a usual song and dance for us these past few weeks. Nodding for the two of us to turn around and walk out of the room.

We started down the hallway keeping absolutely silent towards each other. Who exactly was going to start this conversation? Not me because at this moment I have nothing to say on the matter besides saying sorry for being a little over dramatic, and that’s it. He stopped walking to move in front of the fireplace to warm himself up a little. Turning towards me to let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry that I accused you of sleeping with Peter because of my own personal problems. It wasn’t right and I truly feel horrible for saying that…” I could tell that he wanted to say much more but was working on it. My hands were behind my back as I waited for him to finish his statement.

“Grigor it’s not a..

“Chiara I’ve fallen for you.” He interrupted me as I was confused by what he just said. What?

“I have fallen for you Duchess Chiara.” It sent shivers down my spine. What why? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and now he’s fallen. Oh no...no no no.

“I am not the romantic type Grigor. I am not like my cousin who will bring you a twig to show love and unity. I..I don’t care for it.” Truth be told I’ve been avoiding the whole love marriage life ever since I was born. If I marry then I lose everything. The power will go to my husband and I am left to be nothing but a baby making device for my husband.

Yet...this feels different. I feel as if I should be comforting Grigor to hold one another. If I could keep him as a lover for eternity I might be okay with this idea. But marriage is something that I plan on never happening in my life.

“I don’t expect you to have fallen because why would you have fallen for a piece of shit like myself. You’re right about me..I’m nothing but a weakling who can’t even stand up against the moron himself..” He fell to his knees as he was beginning to have some sort of attack on the floor in front of me. Quickly approaching him as I got down on my knees.

“Grigor take a breath.” Rubbing his back as he was trying to catch his breath.

“My mind is beginning to chip away right before my eyes Chiara..” Oh no..no no. Holding him close to me as I kissed the top of his forehead. Okay so me swearing off love may just be a phase like mother said! Or is this just me feeling bad. I’ll figure that out later!

“This..this is just a rocky path in the road of life. We all go through it and eventually it becomes better. Just have to go through the rough path in order to see that beautiful green field on the other...this isn’t helping is it.” He shook his head as I thought I heard a door opening.

“A weakling… I’m such a weakling..” I’d rather the court not see Grigor falling apart in front of their eyes. Laughing was echoing from the hall as I had to get him out of here.  

“Let’s go somewhere else.” Telling him as I lifted him up from the ground.  We were stumbling around a little as we quickly walked through the palace till we made it to the apartments. No this isn’t meant for me to tackle him and have rough sex. Rather..rather not let the court see him breaking down when he’s the most important members of Peters court.

Opening the door to my apartment as he walked in then slamming the doors shut. Locking it as he fell onto the love seat. His breathing did calm down a little bit yet he was still in some sort of a panic state. Water.

“God how am I a man? Any man would’ve killed the other man for sleeping with his wife..you 're right..” Okay now I’m feeling horrible. I poured him a glass of water to then sit on my knees next to Grigor.

“Drink some water.” He sat up to take the glass from my hand.

“How could anyone love me...I’m such a coward. I can’t even fuck my wife...she has to go to someone else in order to fill that void...that desire that I can not fufill.” Well that’s utter bullshit because being railed by him was marvelous.

“Stop that! There is no need to bring down yourself because of your wife being a total whore. Grigor I’m sorry...I’m sorry for being such a cunt towards you. We both come from completely different worlds and I have to remember sometimes that this isn’t home..You’re not a weakling or a coward. This is just a difficult situation that probably doesn’t help that I’ve been acting so horrid towards you..” His glass was empty as I took it from him to place it down on the ground. My hands cupped his cheeks as he held onto them, he closed his eyes to put his forehead against mine.

“May I stay here for the night?” Grigor asked for me to nod.

“I can’t spend another night alone. Not another night…” Sitting up to then wrap my arms around him. He picked me up to then pull me into his lap which made me giggle a little. It’s kind of fun just being hoisted up into someone's lap.

“I don’t plan on making love with you tonight Chiara.” Oh really? This is rather shocking because I figured he would’ve found a way to seduce me into the bed.

“And why is that? Got tired of me already? We’re those three days….or five..still a little blurry with the amount of wine and food

“Never. You are the only good thing that has come from my dreadful existence here.” Somehow I think he’s right.

“I’m really wanting a glass of vodka. Care for some?” Asking as he was rubbing his eyes.

“Please.” Climbing off to walk over on my refilled liquor shelf. Two of my biggest glasses filled with vodka as I imagine it’s like water to him at this point. Just like how wine is like water, just drink it like water. Sitting back down on his lap to give him the glass, clinking out glasses as we both chugged down the vodka. HOLY SHIT THIS BURNS GOING DOWN STILL HOLY CRAP!

“Still getting used to it aren’t you?” He began to laugh as I shook my head then blinked a few times.

“Indeed. But it acts fast and my fingers are already feeling wonderful. How about another?” I’m just going to grab the glass bottle so I can stay comfortable on his lap. Skipping to the bottle as I pulled the cork off and placed it on the table.

“If you would’ve told me when we first met that I would be letting you sit on my lap after our first introduction. I would’ve thought they were mad.” Good times from a few weeks ago when I had a large stick up my ass. Sitting back down to take a swing from the bottle then hand it to him.

“Or me having some sort of relationship with you after I almost beat you with my sabre. How the world changes before our own eyes.” We both nodded to continue passing the glass bottle back and forth to one another.

I could feel it coursing through my veins like water rushing down a river after a rainstorm. It feels incredible! Vodka is truly a wondrous type of alcohol that loves to scorch my throat. Oof. As much as I would love to sit on his lap for a long time, my bed looks absolutely enticing for us to crawl in. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind crawling into bed.

“Would you mind if we got into bed? Your lap is comfortable but my bed just feels so much better. Please Grigor?” Without questioning it. He sat up as my legs wrapped around his back for us to start heading towards the bed. As much as I love not being pounded into oblivion in this position..this is fun! Wait for the corset. I can not get into my sleep mindset if I’m stuck wearing this cage.

He put me down on the bed as I sat on my knees to then begin taking off my corset. Crap Fernanda really tied the bow up high to the point I can’t reach it. His fingers began messing with the string as I felt the air entering my body once again. Tossing it across the room to untuck my shirt from my pants.

“Thank you.” Turning to face him as we leaned in to kiss one another. Softly kissing one another as he placed his hand on my cheek.

“Picnic with me tomorrow. There’s a beautiful tree that the leaves just dance with the wind that is just beautiful.” Yes. I said that I wanted to get some sort of fresh air and the timing could not be more perfect!

“It’s only been one day since I’ve been away from your bed, and I’ve missed the way it feels. Warm..comforting, can be a bit rough but eventually I become in a state of relaxation.” Grigor became comfortable down on the bed as I joined him on top of the covers. He placed his hand on my cheek as I kissed his hand.

“I know you don’t love me or have fallen for me...but thank you.” He drifted to sleep as I began to scoot closer to him. He must’ve felt me move because I was pulled closer to him and tucked into his chest.

This is nice.

Very nice.

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[not-close-to-straight]

Sugar, Sugar (Five)

Drum roll please...  we actually mention a brief bit of real plot this chapter. See that? The story won’t just be plotless stuckony shenanigans. There’s Real Things that might eventually happen.

MASTERLIST HERE

*************

“Tony?” Pepper used her keys to open the door to Sweet Peach Bakery and then locked it behind her. No one was on the street at six am, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. “Hey Tony? Where are you?” 

“Office!” came the muffled answer, and with a quick stop to grab a still warm croissant off a tray, Pepper hurried her way towards the back of the shop. 

“What are you doing here so early?” She asked, and then, “And oh my god this croissant is so good, when did you start making these?” 

“Didn’t make them.” Tony’s hair was reaching excessive heights of fluffiness this morning and Pepper had to push the mess down just so she could smoosh a kiss to his forehead. “Had a distributor come by with samples. Croissants that just need to be proofed, pre filled turnovers, all that sort of thing. On one hand, I will never have enough time to make croissants from scratch so this is a good alternative. On the other hand, I actually cried putting pre made, frozen bread into the over this morning to bake.” 

“Well, these are delicious, and I think you’re being dramatic and ridiculous.” Pepper perched on the edge of Tony’s desk, poking curiously at a frosting bag full of something chocolate. “What’s this?” 

“Guinness and cocoa.” Tony kept scribbling at purchase forms. “The flavor is supposed to get better the longer it sits so I’ve got a timer and I’m tasting once an hour to see if I notice an improvement.” 

“Mm-hmm” Pepper raised her eyebrows curiously. “Sounds... delicious and like something I’ll be eating immediately. Oh hey, tell me about your date with Steve and Bucky last night.” 

“It wasn’t a date.” Tony said absentmindedly. “And uh, it went an awful lot like this.” 

The frosting bag splgrhrhrd-ed  when he pushed at it, a blurt of frosting falling thick and creamy all over the desk. 

“Tony!” Pepper screeched and Tony retorted, “Hey! You asked how it went, that’s how it went! That sorta noise and everything!” 

“TONY!” 

“You knew who I was when you decided to love me.” 

 “Oh for fucks sake--” Pepper swiped a finger through the frosting and sucked it into her mouth. “I’m mad that I’m eating this after you said that, but this is honestly amazing.” 

“Good and guinnessy?” 

“Enough that I feel like I could get drunk if you hadn’t cooked the alcohol out of it.” 

“Well here, I can solve that for.” Tony felt around under his desk and puled a can of beer out, cracked the top and pushed it his favorite Bridezilla. “Drink up.” 

“It’s six o clock in the morning, Tony.” Pepper protested, but when he only looked at her, she sighed and took a sip. “You encourage me to do terrible things. Between the beer and the croissants and the cupcakes, I’ll never fit into my wedding dress.” 

Tony finally pushed the forms aside and tasted the frosting himself. “My god, this is good. I’m a genius. And don’t worry about your dress. You got a corset back gown for exactly this occasion. Ten pounds cos I won’t stop feeding you isn’t going to ruin anything. You are the most radiant bride at any wedding, in any city, at any size.” 

“I love you very much.” Pepper stuffed the last bite of croissant into her mouth and gave him another kiss. “Which brings me to the actual point of my visit.” 

“Is this about Rhodey’s bachelor party?” 

“It’s about Rhodey’s bachelor party.” she confirmed. “He gave me a list of all the unacceptable activities you’ve threatened him with in the last three months, he also gave me a list of all unacceptable locations for his party, as well as a list of colors he doesn’t want to see...” 

The pretty redhead pulled out several pieces of paper from her purse and shuffled through them. “Oh, here’s the color one. It um-- it only has one word on it.” 

“Is the word neon?” Tony grinned. “ With a circle around and multiple lines through it?”

“Yes it is.” 

“Excellent.” 

“Tell me more about your non date.” Pepper put the lists away and went back to eating frosting. “Which one of them railed you and where did it happen. And don’t ruin my frosting by splooging it again, alright? Just once was bad enough.” 

“I didn’t actually get railed.” Tony frowned a little. “Dunno if my apron game was off or my leggings weren’t quite thotty enough--” Pepper snorted. “-- or what. But Steve got down on his knees and quite literally sucked my brain out through the hole in my--” 

“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK!” 

“--in my frosting bag while Bucky got up behind me and tried to fuck me through my pants. And I definitely thought they’d strip me naked and help me ruin my new couches, but after I finished they just sorta...” Tony shrugged. “Kissed me? Kissed each other? Told me they’d see me tonight and then left.” 

“Wait wait wait.” Pepper held up her hand to stop his rambling. “So these two amazingly hot men--” 

“--like stupidly hot, yeah.” 

“-- are into you. The blond gets down on his knees to give you a blow job while the brunette tries to get you pregnant over your pants--” 

“-- i love you for phrasing it like that.” 

“-- and then when you’re ready to reciprocate, they leave?” 

“Yeah.” he frowned a little. “Yeah, I don’t get it. I mean, I showed them my new couches and everything. I wore low rise leggings and my frilliest apron and made that weird noise I make when I finish way more intense than I expected to? All signs pointed to ‘stay here and let me ride you’ and they left.” 

“I feel like showing people couches and making weird noises aren’t really valid forms of communication.” she pointed out, and Tony retorted, “I’ve seen you cross your legs in a specific way and Rhodey practically strips right then and there. Don’t talk to me about valid forms of communication.”

“I’m just saying--!” Pepper raised her voice when Tony started laughing. “I’m just saying, maybe instead of provocatively mentioning furniture and using aprons for flirting, you use your words like a damn adult and tell those boys what you want from them!” 

“But I don’t want anything from them.” He maintained. “Except to quite literally ride Bucky’s face and see what that mouth do, and also to bent over and broke in half by Steve’s dick. I didn’t even get to see it last night but his old man khaki’s don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination so... yep. I think we’re fine.” 

“All that lovely imagery aside.” Tony laughed again when Pepper rubbed at her temples like she had a headache already. “You’ve spent the better part of a month seeing them every single night, the better part of a month talking to me and James about them... would it be the worst to admit that maybe you do want something from them?” 

Tony clenched his jaw, and just that quickly every bit of easy going was stripped from their morning together.

“I’m not trying to make you mad, honey.” Pepper softened her voice and reached for Tony’s hand. “But I know you so so well and I know you fall in love really quickly and I also know-- no no no, Tony wait!” 

Tony pushed away from the desk and headed back into the bakery and Pepper scrambled after him. “Tony! Just wait a second!” 

“You are not allowed to talk to me about how quickly I fall in love.” Tony grabbed the tray of pre made croissants and tossed them in the trash, throwing the pan down with a clang. “You are not allowed to tell me I want more than-- than sex from Steve and Bucky. Cos I don’t. And even if I did--” 

“Oh Tony--” 

“-- even if I did!” he yelled. “You aren’t allowed to say it because you promised-- after Italy, you promised--” 

“Okay stop.” Pepper grabbed his hands before Tony went for a knife to start chopping up fruit. “Tony stop. I’m sorry I said anything, alright? You’re right, I shouldn’t say that and after Italy I promised I wouldn't say anything.” 

“But?” Tony challenged. “But? Because I know there’s one. What else are you going to say?” 

“...that maybe the fact that you’re so mad right now means I’m probably right?” Pepper finished in a whisper. “But I am sorry for saying anything. Sorry. Don’t be mad at me, you know I love you.” 

“... I love you too.” Tony finally relaxed and Pepper leaned in to kiss him gently. “And I’m sorry for getting so mad. I just-- still a little sore, yeah? Still a little sore.” 

“I know you are.” She held him close for a long minute. “I won’t tell Rhodey, alright? This whole thing is just between me and you.” 

“Thanks.” Tony paused. “I’m doing neon for Rhodey’s bachelor party though. I already ordered three hundred glow sticks, several gallons of shockingly colored body paint and the ugliest fedora’s ever and I’m not returning them.” 

“Yep, that’s fair.” 

“...all I want from Steve and Bucky is sex.” he said again, softer this time. “It’s sort of gross how much they love each other and I’d never try to get in the way of that. They are so sweet together and I can’t figure out why the hell they’d need to spice up their sex life by adding me but I’m definitely not complaining. The last month has been super fun and honestly after the year I’ve had, fun is all I can handle right now.” 

“Okay sweetheart.” Pepper plucked one of the croissants off the top of the pile and took a big bite. “I love you, okay? I’ll call you tonight if you aren’t busy emptying your frosting bag onto Steve’s face.” 

“Oh no, it’s Bucky’s turn for that mess.” 

Pepper laughed herself right out of the bakery and half way down the street before the giggles finally subsided, and the moment they did, she picked up her phone to call her fiancee.

“Hey baby.” 

“It’s been an entire year and it honestly doesn’t occur to Tony that Steve and Bucky are hanging around for any other reason than to spice up their sex life.” 

“It’s six thirty in the morning, Pep. Why are we talking about Tony’s sex life?”

“Well I--” 

“No actually, that’s not that weird. What’s weird is that you’re talking about Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass at six thirty in the morning. You know my rule. We can talk about Tony but we cannot talk about whatever idiot Tony is banging.” 

“Idiots, in this case my love.”  Pepper corrected. “And I don’t actually care about them. What I do care about is that Tony is still so damaged that it doesn’t occur to him that he’s good for anything other than something fun for a couple.” 

“Well, he tells them he only wants something fun.”

“And you’ve known Tony way too long to think that’s true in any way, shape, or form. Tony falls in love with the people who bring him coffee cos they smile at him. There’s no way he doesn’t desperately want to be in a relationship again.” 

“Pep.” Rhodey groaned on the other line. “You weren’t here when Tony first came home from Italy. You know Isabella fucked him up, but you have no idea how deep it goes, alright? If he says he just wants fun with the Tweedles, let him lie to himself and to us and to whoever else he wants to cos Tony needs to at least pretend he’s okay, alright?” 

“But--” 

“Did you tell him no neon at my bachelor party?” 

Pepper pursed her lips. “Yes. Yes I told him, and yes he promised to listen.” 

“It’s something involving terrible fedoras, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Man, I hate fedoras.”

****************

****************

“Heya baby-cakes.” Bucky had a super soft smile for his very sleepy boyfriend when Steve finally made it out of bed. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I have the worst case of blue balls in the world.” Steve stretched and yawned and Bucky watched with no small amount of interest as all that skin lit up in the morning sun. “How is it that Tony got a blow job last night and you got a blow job last night but I did not get a blow job last night?” 

“Hmmm.” Bucky waggled his eyebrows and took a big bite of his breakfast. “Seems’ta me if you would’a came in your pants like history has shown ya do, your balls wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Seema’ta me you should quit mouth fucking that peach and join me in the shower so I don’t have to jerk off alone like a damn teenager.” Steve retorted. “M’standing here naked Buck. I’m dating you for a reason and it’s not cos you’re brilliant. Get the hell in there.” 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Bucky finished slurping at the fruit and tossed the pit away. “You want a blow job or for me to fuck you stupid?” 

“Would it kill you to be a little bit romantic?” 

“You wanna be romantic or do you want me to get you off? You can’t have it both ways, Stevie. That ain’t the way th’world works.” 

“Seriously, why do I love you?” Steve yanked Bucky’s pajama pants down and pulled him into the water. “And not on the same page at all, I was sorta surprised you let me have Tony last night. Figured you’d be all over that.” 

“Wanted to watch you and Tony together.” Bucky grunted when Steve pushed the soap into his hands and then all but humped at his thigh impatiently. “Sure was gorgeous. You were sorta suffocating when he finished, but you should’a heard the noises Tony made. Fuckin’ beautiful. And you got all flushed and pretty and greedy with it? Love that, baby. So hot.” 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Steve threw his head back and gasped when Bucky closed a slick palm around him. “Okay but next time with Tony--” 

“Stop talking and let me take care of you.” Bucky interrupted, wrapping a strong arm around Steve’s waist and holding him steady. “Or do you still wanna be halfway to dyin’ when we sit down and talk about all the ways I’m gonna juice Tony’s peach the first chance I get?”

“Fuck--” Steve screwed his eyes up tight. “You gonna-- fuck, Bucky. Is that why you were eating a peach this morning? Practicing?” 

“Please baby doll.” Bucky drawled, gripping hard at Steve’s ass and working his fingers in exactly where the blond needed them. “I don’t need any practice, you know damn well I can eat a peach for hours.” 

....

....

...later, after Steve had come embarrassingly fast thinking about Bucky eating Tony’s peach for hours-- later, they switched spots under the warm spray so Steve could work shampoo into Bucky’s long hair, scratching at his scalp and smiling fondly when the big brunette basically purred over it. 

“You’re a sap.” he informed him, and Bucky tossed back, “Says the guy who’s barely standing after blowing the tip of his dick off. It was a hand job, Stevie. Not even my best work.” 

“Fuck off.” Steve said tiredly. “Let’s talk about last night. Did you notice--” 

“-- how disappointed Tony looked when we left?” Bucky finished. “Sure did. You don’t think he took it personal, do you? Just feel like maybe a bakery isn’t the right place to get nekkid, you know?” 

“Yeah I feel like Tony would regret letting us mess up his bake table.” Steve agreed. “And it’s not like we ran outta there, we stayed and kissed for a while until he wasn’t so loopy.” 

“I think it’s alright.” Bucky decided. “Course since he won’t give us his damn phone number we can’t text or nothin’ to make sure his feelings weren’t hurt but we’ll see him tonight.” 

“Gonna fuck him tonight?” 

“I dunno.” he answered honestly. “Feel like the first time we really hook up should be where there’s a bed, right? Blow jobs behind th’counter are one thing, full on getting humpy with it--” Steve cackled with laughter and Bucky grinned. “-- should be somewhere soft and somewhere where the mess isn’t a health code violation, yeah?” 

“Do you think he’s as crazy about us as we are about him?” Steve asked then. “I mean, we went from ‘all we need is each other’ to practically climbing over each other to get to Tony. Think he cares even a little bit?” 

“He’s gotta care a little bit.” Bucky ducked back under the water to rinse the suds away. “Don’t think it’s anything serious though. Only been like a month, Stevie. Nothin’ serious can happen in a month.” 

“We were in love in a month.” 

“No, after a month we’d hit thirty solid days of my dick in your ass.” Bucky countered. “It was at least another month before we even managed a real date, Stevie. That wasn’t love that was-- that was you bein’ way too hot and me not knowin’ the meaning of the words ‘at ease’.” 

“Say what you want.” Steve kissed Bucky’s nose gently. “But I know full well you were head over heels in love with me.” 

“Lies.” Bucky kissed him right back. “Absolute fuckin’ slander. Take it back right now.” 

“Oh honey.” Steve budged closer and kissed him again, sweeping his fingers into Bucky’s hair and holding him close for a long time, brushing his fingers over Bucky’s cheekbones and murmuring soft things when Bucky went real soft against him. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” Bucky said gruffly. “Since the first time you let me at your apple.” 

“..my butt is an apple?” 

“Could bounce a quarter off it baby. Buns of steel but still so so juicy!” 

“Damn it, Bucky.” 

****************

****************

“Hey guys.” Tony was still working on chocolate and guinness frosting when Bucky and Steve showed up that night. “How’s it going?” 

“Stevie’s got blue balls and I’ve been thinkin’ bout your butt all day.” Bucky grabbed onto Tony’s apron strings and yanked him in for a thorough, messy kiss. “How about you?” 

“I’ve got to finish this frosting and rewrite my recipe so it doesn’t look like chicken scratch and thennnnnn....” Tony laughed softy when Steve gave him an equally thorough kiss. “.... then I think we should do something about Steve’s blue balls. New couches?” 

“Super excited to ruin your new couches, yep.” Bucky eyed the mixing bowl curiously. “Is that something I can eat?” 

“It’s something you can smear on my tummy and lick off.” Tony called over Steve’s shoulder as the blond backed him towards the office. “Or on my butt! Or on my-- Ack! Steve! STEVE!” 

Laughter from the office and a quiet oof! as they hit the couch and Bucky plucked a big spatula from a nearby box to scoop up a healthy serving of Tony-tummy appropriate frosting. 

And then when he heard Steve sigh and groan, his already deep voice doing that velvet thing Bucky loved so much, he paused for a second to listen to Tony’s breathy answer, a happy giggle and a sweet sweet moan that sounded halfway adoring. 

.... oh man does Tony sort of love us?

*****************

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