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winchesterandpie · 2 years

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Same Boat

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Word Count: 4382 (I may have gotten a little out of control)

Warnings: song lyrics if that isn't your thing, pining, best friends to lovers, fluff

A/N: So I heard this song (Same Boat by Lizzy McAlpine) and it just sparked this idea immediately. I had a little bit of time around grad school stuff and managed to write this out. It hasn't really been proofread, but I think it's alright anyways. I might not manage to post another fic for a while--I have to figure out some lab stuff--but I hope you'll enjoy this and fics from other wonderful authors in the meantime.

If I had the chance

To see the northern lights

I would book the next flight

And I'd buy a jacket

You sighed as you settled into your seat on the flight. You were on your way to see your Jake graduate from Top Gun. He’d called you excitedly when he was put into the program, the first person he’d told. Now, you were coming out to surprise him as he finished as the very best of the best.

The thought of seeing him after so many months filled you with butterflies. What if things had changed in the long time you had spent apart? What if he wasn’t happy to see you? Or perhaps worst of all, what if he had found someone?

You wouldn’t have any right to be upset that your best friend had found someone who made him happy. Not when you were unwilling to tell him how you felt.

There were many other things you were willing to take a chance on. Your career forced you to take some risks. Your schooling did too. Jake himself had pushed you to take risks and try new things and you had done them all with him to back you. Nothing you had ever done felt as scary as the idea of telling him you were in love with him.

Those other risks had potential consequences, sure, but none came with the possibility of losing your best friend. That was something you couldn’t bear to lose. So you were (mostly) content to push your ever-growing feelings to the side if it meant you could keep him close.

Still, if he found someone, that meant that the chance, however slim, of your feelings being reciprocated would be gone. When that day inevitably came, your heart would break. You would be happy that he was happy, but you would always know that you missed your chance with the love of your life. Because that’s ultimately what Jake was.

If I had the chance

To see snow fall for the first time

I would stop and rewind

To re-find the magic

You watched the light snowfall through the plane window as it started to back away from the gate. It reminded you of the first time Jake had seen snow.

You had dragged him out the front door, giggling at the way his eyes widened when a fluffy snowflake landed on his nose. He had nearly gone cross-eyed to watch it melt against his skin. Even after it was gone, Jake had just looked at you in shock while snow fell around you.

You had showed him how to catch them on his tongue and how to shape a snowball that would stay together. You had launched an attack that led to a snowball fight that you won only because he was unprepared. He had fallen back into the snow, and you leaned over him as you both laughed breathlessly.

You had wanted to kiss his flushed cheek then, but you had forced yourself to look away from his glittering green eyes and bright grin. Instead of kissing him like you wanted to, you had rolled off of him into the snow and taught him to make snow angels. The wishful voice in your head had whispered that Jake’s eyes held a hint of disappointment when you rolled away, but you had pushed it aside then as you did now. Your fingers had brushed together with every flap of snowy wings.

Then he had dragged you back inside, claiming that your fingers were too cold. You had let him pull you inside and tug one of his sweatshirts over your shirt after your winter coat came off. You still had that particular sweatshirt in your closet, though it no longer smelled like him.

With hot cocoa in both your hands and Jake’s legs thrown across your lap, you had committed to memory how it felt to watch him learn the magic of snow.

Now, you wondered what might have happened if you had gone ahead and kissed him that day so long ago.

But if there was ever a chance to tell you

That I think about you every single day

I don't know if I could take that chance

Or take your hand and say

It was almost odd how often you thought about him. There were just little things nearly every day that reminded you of him in some way. You really couldn’t help it.

A burger you ate reminded you of the place Jake took you to in Texas. The way you unfolded your sunglasses with one hand was something you’d picked up from watching him. You still instinctively turned to point out Texas-sized flags and tease him, though he wasn’t at your shoulder. On occasion, you would text him things your coworkers said that you knew he would find funny, especially when he told you about a rough day.

The smallest things reminded you of him. You would never admit it out loud, certainly not to him.

Sometimes, he did things that made you wonder if he thought about you as often.

One particularly notable occasion, you had texted him in the middle of the day, ranting about whatever had made your day go terribly wrong. You knew he was probably up flying jets at supersonic speeds, so you hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Maybe he would text you consolation or a funny story about whatever stupid maneuver somebody had pulled later that night.

You had not been expecting a delivery of your favorite takeout half an hour after you got home. There was a short note attached that read, “I’ll call when I get done, but I hope this helps in the meantime. J” It had felt like a warm hug from the only person you wanted to see. Even if he couldn’t physically be there for you, he had still done what he could.

You are on my mind (oh-oh)

When I miss the snow (oh-oh)

You show up when I hear that song or

I finally start watching that tv show

I don't know why every time

That I think of home

I can picture you standing in the cold

But I, I'm scared 'cause I don't know

If you and I are in the same boat

Your shuffled playlist made you smile when it played his favorite song. You remembered the many times it had come on when the two of you were in the car, the time spent singing along, however badly, to that song. On some of your worst days, Jake would drive both of you around for a while, singing extra badly just to make you laugh.

You wondered whether there would be time for Jake to show you around town. If there was, you would have to play that song again for old times’ sake.

Why couldn’t you stop thinking about him? It was like he had infected you somehow, because every time you thought of home, you didn’t think of your family, you didn’t think of your apartment, you thought of the moment where a snowflake melted on his nose for the first time.

You thought of the moment when he tugged his sweatshirt over your head. He had knocked the hood back from your face so tenderly. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much attention, too worried about revealing your feelings. Recently, you had been thinking back to it often.

What would have happened if you had kissed him then?

Did the way he tucked your hair behind your ear mean anything?

You knew that you didn’t share most of your little reminders and memories with him. The traitorous part of your brain suggested that he had those same moments that he just wasn’t telling you about. The sensible part argued that he would have told you by now. Jake had never been as shy as you. He couldn’t possibly be harboring the same feelings, could he?

Even if he did, would you say anything? You suspected that you wouldn’t be able to.

If I had the chance

If you asked out of the blue

How I really truly feel about you

I don't have a clue how that would go

As time went on and your friendship stayed close, Jake was getting incredibly good at reading you. He’d always been able to figure you out, but your ability to hide from him was waning. That was more good than bad.

When you had a bad day and tried to bluff your way through, not wanting to put a damper on the limited time you got to spend with him, he could always see right through you. Jake saw how you tried to keep your knee from bouncing and forced your fingers to unclench when something made you anxious. You knew he had gradually catalogued things likely to make you anxious from the way he tried to avoid putting you in the position of encountering them. If you had to, he would position himself almost imperceptibly to shield you.

He caught how your face would fall when you thought no one was looking if you were sad. He knew you didn’t like attention drawn to you, so he would tug you somewhere private and pull you into his arms. Jake couldn’t solve everything, and he knew it. But he could--and did--ensure that you knew he was there for you. That warmth sustained you through many days.

You could do much the same with him.

Jake pushed his hand through his hair when he was agitated, usually when he needed to be distracted. Sometimes, you would make a funny face and wait for him to notice. When he saw the face, a laugh punched out of him and made you giggle. Often, that was enough to loosen him up enough to talk to you.

Other times, he wouldn’t even look at you, so you had to resort to other measures. You would flop onto his lap, or make him a mug of tea and shove it under his nose, or settle a blanket over his shoulders. Once, he had been so zoned out that you had pulled on the most frightening Halloween mask you could find and startled him with it. Jake had nearly fallen off the couch, but it had worked. He tugged the mask off of you and then laughed as he pulled you into his chest.

“Dumbass,” he’d called you affectionately. You’d never liked an insult more.

The problem, of course, with him being able to read you so well was that he might be able to see your feelings for him. Jake was brave, far braver than you. If he noticed the way you looked at him, he would ask.

And if he asked?

You couldn’t lie to him.

But could you tell him?

Could you take the chance of losing your best friend?

Oh, if I had the chance

Would I really tell you?

Would I bare my soul and maybe end up crying in the bathroom?

Or would I ask you to kiss me slow?

You spent the whole flight worrying about whether he would notice and ask. You had never gone so long without seeing him and as a result, you missed him so much more than normal. Surely it would be too obvious for you to hide. The plane was landing soon and you weren’t sure what to do.

Though, there had been one other occasion where you were this bad at hiding your feelings.

Jake had come to visit for a week and you had just broken up with your boyfriend the night before. It wasn’t that he had been a bad boyfriend. He just wasn’t Jake. You had tried not to compare them, but in the end, you hadn’t been able to help it. Your subconscious mind, longing for Jake and no one else, would whisper what he would have done that your boyfriend didn’t do.

It was certainly fateful timing on Jake’s part to visit when he had. Whether that was good or bad, you still didn’t know.

Either way, when you had picked him up from the airport, he had picked you up and spun you around as he always did. You had held on just a little longer than was friendly, but he hadn’t said anything about it. In fact, he had squeezed you tighter, as though he could tell that you needed the comfort.

It was sheer luck that he didn’t catch all the times you just watched him. You weren’t strong enough to keep it to a minimum. How could he not know, you had wondered, just how much he meant to you?

One thing you had managed to do when he was there was keep your liquor under control. You didn’t need a drunken confession of feelings ruining a friendship. Still, looking back to that week, you were surprised that the man who could read you so well hadn’t seen the way you almost couldn’t bear to be far from him.

Then again, maybe he had noticed and had simply decided to spare your feelings and, like you, prioritize your friendship.

That fear surfaced again, grabbing you by the throat as your plane taxied into the gate. There was no way you could keep your feelings under wraps this time. The best you could do was perhaps control when he found out.

Would a moment’s worth of mustered courage be enough for you to get the words out? Would they stick in your throat until you choked on your feelings?

If you did get them out, what would he say? Surely he would tell you that he didn’t feel the same and could no longer be friends with you. The reality that this trip could end in tears and be the last you ever saw of Jake Seresin weighed heavily on your chest.

Ready or not, the line of people was slowly but surely filing off the plane. You would have to face him sooner or later.

You took a deep breath and stood.

'Cause you are on my mind

When I miss the snow

You show up when I hear that song or

I finally start watching that tv show (oh)

I don't know why every time

That I think of home

I can picture you standing in the cold

But I, I'm scared 'cause I don't know

If you and I are in the same boat

Bonus:

When you made it out to the baggage claim, you did a double take when you saw none other than Jake Seresin standing there waiting for you.

You saw the exact moment when he spotted you. His entire face brightened, and a grin replaced his concentrated frown. The space between his brows had scrunched ever so slightly as he scanned the incoming crowds for you, but it melted away. The man scanning the crowd had been Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin. The one who saw you was just Jake.

He met you halfway, sweeping you into a tight hug that knocked the air from your lungs.

“How did you know I was coming?” you asked, muffled by his shirt.

“Phoenix.”

“Traitor!” You had told her you wanted to surprise Jake and asked where you could find him when you got in. She’d given you the information, but apparently, she’d also blabbed.

He laughed, letting you go at last. “Don’t be mad at her. We all went out for drinks last night and she had one too many.”

“But I was gonna surprise you.” You dropped your gaze from his in an attempt to hide your disappointment, but you could hear how small your voice sounded.

“You still did, I promise,” he reassured quickly. “Honestly, until you walked through the door, I thought she’d been pulling my leg.” Jake paused, starting to lead the way out of the airport. “I’m glad you came.”

You looked back at him for a moment before responding, “Me too. I’ve missed you, Jake.”

“I missed you too.”

The walk to his truck was short, and too soon he was taking your carry-on to lift it into the backseat. You climbed into the passenger seat as he did, and then the two of you were off. The first notes of his favorite song played over the speakers, making you laugh.

“Hey, now, this is a classic,” he teased, reaching over to shove your shoulder.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you managed through giggles. “It’s just so… you.”

Jake glanced at you briefly. His eyebrows were furrowed again. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah.” You just watched him softly as the single word slipped from your tongue. You watched his face change just a little to something you couldn’t read. Was that the wrong answer?

He started singing not long after, building gradually until he was belting out the tune. You didn’t have to imagine him there this time, you could really hear him. You just hummed along, joining in for the occasional harmony. You had missed moments like these with him.

“Long flight?” Jake asked when he pulled up to your hotel. So he had noticed that you were quieter than usual on the drive.

You nodded, taking the offered way out. “Worth it though,” you added, looking over at him.

“How about you get checked in and take a nap this afternoon, then?”

“I’d feel bad--I came to see you, not to nap here!”

“We’ll go for dinner tonight, I promise.”

“I’m not that tired,” you tried to insist.

He turned toward you in his seat, saying your name sternly. “You’re here on vacation, so you’re gonna rest. If--” he cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut before more words slipped free.

That made you pause, watching him more closely. “If what?”

“If it makes you feel better,” he picked back up with a sigh, “I can stay and we can put a movie on or something. Only if you promise you’ll rest at least a little.”

“Really?” You were excited and nervous and shocked all at once, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “Even if I want to watch The Princess Bride?”

That pulled a heavy sigh from him, though you knew full well he only pretended he could’t stand it. “I guess,” he said at last, drawing out the words. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you confirmed, grinning brightly at him.

“Alright then, come on.” He shook his head at you, but you saw the matching grin he wore as he got out of the truck and came around for your suitcase.

You checked in quickly and pulled Jake along into the elevator. The first thing you did when you got into the room was flop down onto the bed. It was a standard hotel bed, but your nerves from the flight had exhausted you more than normal. That thought brought it all back and you realized you hadn’t been worrying from the moment you saw Jake until now.

At least you still had your face hidden in the sheets so he couldn’t see your expression tighten.

He just chuckled at how you’d flopped down and joined you on the bed. He was close, and already looking at you when you finally turned your head to look up at him. You propped yourself up on your elbow as he extended an arm to you.

This wasn’t the first time you had leaned into his side to watch a movie, but it was the first time you were worried that you would reveal your feelings by doing it. Still, you let him tug you under his arm. You could let yourself pretend your feelings were returned for just a little while.

Jake was right, you didn’t stay awake for much of the movie. If you had been aware, you would have been sad to just barely miss the witty banter between Inigo and the Dread Pirate Roberts as they dueled. Jake’s chest was just too comfortable a pillow.

He didn’t mind.

You stirred awake close to the end, when Westley was threatening Humperdinck with a duel ‘to the pain.’ It always made you giggle.

You hadn’t even realized that you had wrapped yourself around Jake until you shifted a little and felt his arm tighten. Somehow, during your nap, you had thrown your arm across his middle and tangled your legs between his. He must have thought you were just stirring a little, because he just pressed his cheek to your head and hushed you gently.

“And then my ears, I understand. Let’s get on with it,” Humperdink said on the screen.

“Wrong!” you mumbed along with Westley. “Your ears you keep and I’ll tell you why.”

“You know this too well,” Jake teased.��

“I’ve seen it once or twice,” you hedged with a shrug. “You know you love it.”

“Maybe.”

“Admit it, it’s adorable,” you pressed, poking him lightly in the ribs.

He gasped in mock betrayal, catching your hand with his free one. “I might have, except now you’re trying to tickle me!” You were still sleepy enough that your hands were easily restrained.

“You could be Westley, I think,” you said, nuzzling closer to his chest.

Jake’s thumb skimmed slowly back and forth across your shoulder. “Is that so?”

Was this your chance?

You wanted to tell him why he was wonderful enough to be Westley, all his qualities you loved. You could tell him that like Buttercup, you couldn’t love anyone but him. You could tell him that when you were homesick, the home you pictured was him that day in the snow. You could tell him that his stupid favorite song always made you smile, no matter how terrible a day you had had, simply because it made you think of him.

You could tell him all of that. But that would come too close to an outright confession.

You had to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him.

The words bubbled up into your throat anyways, choking you.

A small, hopeful part of you told you to be brave, but you found yourself physically unable to speak.

You should have forced those words out. They would have made more sense than what did come out, though that was no less true. As it was, your mouth formed words almost of its own accord.

“You’re my Westley.”

Your only hope was that the words had been too quiet for him to hear. After all, they slipped from your tongue on a mere whisper of a breath.

If it had been anyone else, if you had been anywhere else, they would have gone unheard. But the room was quiet, and Jake was completely focused on you. He heard your confession whispered into his shirt. You knew he had heard you when his hand on your shoulder froze.

In the deafening silence that followed, you wondered if you would learn what a heart sounded like when it shattered.

As the silence stretched longer, you braced yourself for his inevitable exit from your room and your life.

When he still didn’t break the silence, you wished he would say anything, even a rejection. It would be preferable to the hell that was anticipation.

After you judged that it had been long enough that the only answer could be a bad one, you started to pull yourself away. Jake’s arm tightened around you, keeping you pinned to him. That was enough to make you tilt your head up to look at him.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off again, “I need to know if you mean what I think you mean.” His very serious gaze flicked between your eyes, searching for something.

You weren’t entirely sure what that meant. Did he need to know because it would be weird if you were into him? Or did he need to know because he felt the same?

It was the small, brave part of you that answered. “I mean it.”

“Good,” he breathed out. “That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I want to be your Westley.”

That made you prop yourself up on your elbow so your gaze was level with his. The way his eyes glittered, you couldn’t help but think back to that snowy day so long ago.

This time, you let one hand reach up to the side of his face, brushing back a lock of hair before continuing down to his cheek. His sea-green eyes drifted shut, just before you could drown in them. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw lightly.

“Kiss me?” you asked at last.

Jake moved in an instant, his eyes flashing open as he rolled the two of you over. As he leaned over you, you felt like you were sure Buttercup had when she was in Westley’s arms again at the bottom of the hill.

“Ask me again?” There was an honesty in his eyes that made you willing to ask.

“Kiss me?”

He smiled this time, and it was like the rising sun to your eyes. “As you wish.”

You grinned for just half a second before his lips were on yours. It was nothing like you had dreamed, it was so much better. You had thought that a kiss with Jake would be hard and fiery. It was almost the exact opposite.

The kiss was soft and sweet--hesitant, even. His hands were warm on your skin, creating goosebumps as his fingers brushed across gently. His weight pressed you into the mattress, reminding you that this was real, that he was holding you. Your senses were consumed by him entirely, your fingers twisting into his hair.

It was so much more than you could ever have imagined. You had imagined that kissing him would be an adventure, a rollercoaster, fireworks. In reality, kissing Jake was coming home. It was a quiet peace in your soul that told you everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t, because he was by your side.

When he finally pulled back, your eyes drifted back open slowly. Then he grinned and kissed you again joyfully.

You had finally found the answer. Jake was in the same boat as you.

Top Gun Taglist:

@malindacath @army24--7 @mads-weasley

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman #hangman seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #seriously listen to the song #it's the epitome of friends to lovers

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m1d-45 · 1 year

Text

…was birthed chalk

summary: any smith that discards a perfectly good blade holds no amount of power over the craft. perhaps it’s better, then, that the sword is passed onto one who knows better.

word count: 6.1k (good lord-)

-> warnings: spoilers for albedo lore, rhinedottir is Awful and albedo has a small crisis over it.. a metaphor that may or may not make sense only bc i was the one that wrote it

-> gn reader (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @dedef7890

<< part 1 || < masterlist >

when albedo wakes up, the sun has long since risen.

it’s not a surprise, as he stayed up rather late simply thinking, but it was inconvenient.

he sighed and reached for his nightstand, tying up his hair just enough to go through the motions of the morning. it was a fast, familiar, memorized pattern, quickly waking him up and getting him ready for the day. he rushed a little bit, knowing he’d woken later and rhine was expecting an explanation, but he still exited his room with hardly a yawn, moving for the kitchen. maybe he could indulge a bit, have something sweet- to wake him up, of course, and drain the remnants of sleep from him.

he barely had the chance to step over the threshold before rhine’s door opened and she walked out, bag over one shoulder and a folder in the other. she looked over at him, eyes sweeping over his clothes.

“what are you dressed like that for?”

he glanced down at himself. he wasn’t wearing anything stained or torn, and was practically identical to what he’d worn yesterday. a white shirt and pants, thick enough nothing spilled would quickly reach his skin but thin enough that it wasn’t a hassle if they needed to be disposed of. the same things he always wore.

“what’s the issue, master? is there a fault in my clothing?”

her face twisted like he’d said the sky had turned red. “didn’t i say you were coming with me today? that’s not exactly fit for snow.”

the room suddenly turned into a vacuum, all of the air leaving albedo’s chest even as he took a breath. go with her? where? when had she said so? he would have certainly used the time from yesterday to prepare if she had told him.

“stop staring and change. quickly.”

her words snapped him out of his haze and he nodded, a mumble of ‘right away, master’ clumsily pushed out of his mouth as he rushed by.

what did he wear? he rarely went on trips outside of the lab, and when he did it was never far enough to warrant much more than a simple coat. and where were they going? was it going to be cold? hot? dangerous? would he need to be able to move quickly?

albedo felt like his body was moving on its own, stripping off his shirt and pulling on another before he could make the conscious decision to do so. the flimsy band he used to tie up his hair fell to the floor but he hardly noticed, simply grabbing the more secure one for lab work and wrapping it around his wrist as he continued to change.

he wasn’t sure how, but he eventually made it out of his room in a cohesive outfit, a jacket thrown over his arm. when rhine looked him over again, she couldn’t find a fault, nodding and turning for the door.

albedo fought off a smile.

there was a cold wind outside so he ended up putting on the jacket as they walked, feeling odd about it. it was thick to keep out the chill, but… it was strange to have so much more weight to his movements. similarly, walking in boots instead of simpler shoes felt strange, out of place. he supposed it was simply because he’d never really worn them before, rarely ever venturing out like rhine did…

he followed her through a forest, trying to take in as many details as he could without stopping to sketch. brilliant blue butterflies fluttered on top of yellow flowers, large petals dipping and swaying under the weight. sun streamed through the gaps in the leaves, shifting as the winds rippled through the boughs of oak and pine. it bordered on overwhelming, the sounds of birds he’d never heard distracting him long enough that he nearly tripped over a large root.

rhinedottir huffed, an odd mix of amusement and irritation. “what, you never heard a bird before?”

he tracked a large red one as it hopped across branches, searching for something unseen. “nothing this vibrant… i’ve never been this far from the lab before, master.”

she gave him an odd look. “really? i expected you’d be out and about pretty often.”

he tore his gaze away from the bird to look at her in confusion, but.. she seemed serious. “you told me to practice alchemy, so… i did. i run experiments and rarely leave, only if i’m searching for a substance we’re out of. the farthest i’ve been was only around a five minute walk, to… miss alice called it starsnatch cliff.”

her face twisted at the mention of alice’s name, and she picked up the pace slightly. “don’t talk about her.”

“why? has she done something to upset-“

“just listen to me, alright? don’t.”

the conversation died in an instant, leaving albedo confused once more.

the forest soon broke, the trees dispersing out into a plain, and he looked around, trying to get his bearings. there was a map in the lab but he rarely used it, only ever looking to see if rhine could pick him up a material or another that he needed without going too far out of her way. still, he had a vague memory of it, enough to know the name of the mountain they were approaching.

“is the domain near vindagnyr?”

rhinedottir tensed, her grip on her bag tightening. “it’s called dragonspine.”

the edge to her words shuts down any further questions he had, and he bites his tongue with a nod.

another thing to learn.

they thankfully don’t go deep into the mountain, stopping only on the outskirts. he recognizes the domain they stopped at from the diagram she showed him, the diamond sigils faintly glowing yellow.

he inspected the domain, double checking both the inscription on the bottom and the idea he had to solve it. it seemed like it was feasible, but-

“here.” rhine held out a hand, holding a long sheath. a leather handle stuck out from it, the silver of a guard glittering dangerously, and albedo hesitated before taking it.

“why do i need a sword, master?”

she waved a hand as if it was obvious. “it’s dangerous. now stay here, i’m gonna go find a geo slime.”

“i don’t know how to wield it, are you certain-?”

“if you don’t want it then just leave it behind. it’s useless anyway.”

without any other words, she left, leaving him with a sword he didn’t know how to use.

carefully, he undid the latch and pulled off the sheath, revealing a smooth silver blade. it was simple, with a basic cross guard and a neat edge, but he still felt intimidated by the razor-sharp edge. his specialty was with alchemy, not with blade-work… surely rhine knew that?

albedo flipped the sword over and blinked at the engraving along the center of the blade. wouldn’t it make sense to have it on both sides?

he brought it closer to his face, squinting a bit to make out the words. it was an old sword, evidently, and it showed in the faded marks.

‘as the creator forged, so too do i serve.’

albedo stared.

though the words were blurry and indistinct, he was certain that was what it said. but what did it mean? there it was again, the mention of this ‘creator’, this time on a blade? was it a title, referencing the blacksmith? surely that was what ‘forged’ was there for…

at the sound of footsteps he quickly put the sword back in its sheath, deciding to shelve the thought for later.

rhinedottir came up besides him, chest heaving with effort. one of her hands was carefully cupped, a yellowish slime in her hands. “alright, i’ve got the condensate. whats your idea?”

“the inscription says to take the shortest path and to repeatedly-“

“albedo, the elemental energy in this thing isn’t gonna last.”

ah…. “top right, middle left, bottom left, middle right, bottom right, top left.”

she nodded, walking towards the domain. carefully, she smeared the slime over the sigils in the order he told, each glowing brighter as she went. as every sigil lit up, the path connecting it to the center sigil seeped with energy, flowing down to the middle. when the last of the condensate was pushed into the final sigil, the center one glowed as well, pulsing brightly. with a loud and heavy crack, he domain doors split open, falling inward.

rhinedottir was crouched, wiping the remainder of the slime onto the grass, and she stared at the doors

“you did it.”

warm pride bloomed in albedo’s chest. he had.

he helped her up and she picked up her bag of supplies, but turned to him instead of the door, a stern expression on her face.

“now, albedo, you need to stay close to me, alright? don’t stray off or wander, and if you get lost stay put and shout. domains are dangerous things, and frequently filled with monsters. this one should be empty, but in the case that it isn’t… just don’t go poking around where you shouldn’t.”

he nodded, clutching his sheathed sword a little tighter. a satisfied flicker of a smile crossed rhinedottir’s face before she turned, delving into the domain.

he followed dutifully, making sure to stick to her side. it was hard not to ask to stop and look at a carving on a wall, or an inset of gold upon a door, but the idea of her irritation kept his curiosity at bay. they made their way over mossy and cracked stones, occasionally pushing through creaky, rotten doors or climbing over fallen stone. the air itself felt ancient, important, and he wondered why rhinedottir was searching this one. she want one for history, but surely there wasn’t anything of value here…

they stopped in front of a large door, remarkably intact for the state of the rest of the domain. it was simple, blank, and the only visible mechanism of opening it were the four levers, two on each side.

rhinedottir put her hands on her hips, huffing. “there’s only two of us.”

albedo looked around the room, spotting a large pile of debris and not much else. a plan began to form in his head, a rough draft of possibility, and he wrapped the strap of the sheath around his waist to free his hands. the sword was odd and uncomfortable, but it stayed.

rhine spoke before he could, “any ideas?”

oh.

he cleared his throat, carefully stepping forward to see if she would stop him.

she didn’t.

he approached the lever closest to him, noting the large ball on the end for grip. carefully, he pushed down, surprised to see it gave with little effort. the mechanics were likely rusted and tired, unable to provide the resistance it used to, or maybe the weights had snapped off due to their ropes rotting… whatever the case, it made his job easier.

he let it go, watching it ease back into position, and turned around.

“how heavy is your bag?”

at first, her eyes lit up, but they quickly dimmed. “the angle of the levers is too sharp, it’ll just slide down.”

he shook his head. “no. the levers don’t exert enough force rising up to counter your bag, provided it’s heavy enough. as long as we push it down first, it’ll stay.”

she hesitated, holding the bag tighter, but eventually caved. as she walked over, albedo pushed down the lever again, moving to the other side of it so she could hook her bag on it. her hands hovered around it as he removed his hand, but it held.

a smile spread across her face, and she looked up eagerly. “we need one more.”

albedo turned to the pile of debris and took off his jacket, laying it out on the ground. carefully, he fills it with stone, tying the sleeves together into a handle and carefully hoisting it up. a few rocks slip, but he can tell just by holding it that it’ll work fine.

rhine gets his plan and lowers the lever for him, letting him hang the jacket on it. together, they move to the other side of the door, taking their own levers. creator and creation, in sync, pushing down the levers to a domain.

when the door creaks open, albedo turns to her in joy, delighted at the show of cooperation-

rhinedottir brushes past him, pulling her bag off the lever as she walks past.

the doors begin to slide close and albedo rushes to slip between them, leaving his jacket hanging in his haste, and shivers at the cold in the new room.

it’s dark, more so when the doors shut with a bang. the only light is a pale blue in front of him, the shadow of rhinedottir outlined within it. she’s peering down at something, her bag dropped at her side.

the floor is covered in something dark, something that floats when he kicks at it. he crouched, careful not to touch it, and sees they’re… feathers. thousands and thousands of feathers, littering the floor and walls. they’re large, smooth, as if all the feathers on an impossibly large bird had simply… fallen off.

the sound of a zipper draws his attention, and he looks over, standing. the source of the blue light is gone, the light now white and coming from a headlamp on rhinedottir’s head. she’s zipping up her bag, a self-satisfied smile on her face. “i should have brought you sooner, your skills are a pretty good tool.”

the air went cold.

ice quickly crawled through albedo’s veins, faster than it would naturally just from the chill. an unnatural, frozen mass settled in his stomach, fed the more he turned over rhinedottir’s words in his mind.

she didn’t seem to notice, busying herself with brushing off feathers from a door in the corner, but albedo couldn’t shake it off as easily as she did.

why did it bother him so much?

the walk back to the lab was cold, both because he had left his jacket and because it was nearing nighttime. the lamp on rhine’s head was the only source of light, forcing him to walk behind her and keep his eyes trained on the floor to watch where she stepped. now that it was dark, he could see that something in her bag was glowing, blue light barely edging through the gaps in her zippers. she’s taken something from the domain, but what?

he didn’t notice when they arrived, too lost in his thoughts, only pulled out by the sudden warmth around him. he shut and locked the door and watched as rhine goes through her normal routine. boots off, coat off, bag in hand, and it’s only when she pushes open her door that he takes a step and realizes a problem.

“master?”

she pauses, slight annoyance flashing for a brief moment across her face. “what?”

albedo undoes the loop of the sheath, holding up the sword, but she shakes her head.

“keep it. you’ll need it later.”

without another word, her door closes, the silent click of the lock solidifying the barrier between them.

the next day is wrong.

it’s the only way he can describe it. there’s a tension in the air he can’t quite understand.

he’s cold even under his blanket, and he thinks about putting on his jacket only to remember he doesn’t have it. the floor is cold, and he shivers as he walks to his door.

the fire is out, which explains why the room is so cold, but it still feels empty beyond that. everything is in its place, nothing is overtly missing, but…

albedo grabs a lighter and some tinder, crouching besides the fireplace and relighting it. sparks fly and flame catches, and he stays for a moment to warm up, looking around the room. snow has swept in besides the door, which makes him frown. why would rhine leave again so soon after a discovery?

the fire crackles and pops to life, and he stands, backing away a bit so he doesn’t get burned.

what’s wrong?

why does the room feel so empty?

he turns, intending to check the small table by her door where she sometimes leaves him notes, but his attention catches on his desk.

it’s mostly as it was when they left the day before, with one vital exception: a large and thick book, weighing down two envelopes.

if he had a heart, he had a feeling it cracked.

he feels… a word comes to mind, dread, but he doesn’t understand it, not fully. his breath picks up as he approaches the book, as his shaking hand brushes over the print of his name in his master’s handwriting and he feels cold.

‘albedo,’ it reads. nothing more. nothing less.

his chest feels tight, his mind running rampant as it tries desperately to catalogue, define, and diagnose whatever makes him feel so nervous.

carefully, cautiously, albedo pulls the envelope from beneath the leather bound book, feeling afraid.

he pulls out his stool and sits, mostly so he doesn’t feel as nauseous, and rips open the letter, pulling out the twin sheets of paper inside. its… small. the ‘paragraphs’ are barely a line or two long, yet the handful of sentences feel like they’re being forced into his mind by chisel.

Kreideprinz,

I have found what I have been looking for. Locked within the domain we searched was the Heart of Naberius, and I have no further matters to attend to here.

Go to Mondstadt. Find my old friend, Alice, and give her the recommendation letter. Then, complete your final assignment. Any other projects you were working on prior are now void; consider this to be the only one that matters.

Your final assignment: show me the truth and the meaning of this world.

— Gold

he reads and rereads the words over and over again, but they don’t stick. his hands are shaking, worse now, and something in his chest begins to hurt. he checks the other page but only finds a map, the backs of both papers empty. nothing more. nothing less.

albedo drops the papers, if only to read them without the words shaking, but finds that his sight has begun to blur. he wipes the water from his eyes and tries again, and again, and again to understand what’s written in the letter.

rhinedottir always said that if he didn’t perform well she would simply leave; was this the end result of that? had he failed to keep up with the pace she had silently set? was there some silent cue he was meant to follow, something to direct him to the answers she wanted quicker than he would organically find them? was he meant to be quicker, more efficient, was he meant to find things at such an inhuman pace because he was never truly human to begin with?

‘kreideprinz,’ she says (nothing more, nothing less), pretending as if the title from his ‘childhood’ wasn’t something he had clearly failed to earn if she had left, if he had somehow failed. ‘recommendation letter,’ for an ‘old friend,’ as if she hadn’t stopped talking about her after the incident with klee, never inviting them back no matter how many times albedo subtly hinted alice might be able to help her.

even as he stands, as his mind registers the command of his final assignment, a large portion of his mental space is taken up by the instincts she drilled into him, desperately attempting to make sense of at least something.

maybe it’s hunger, his thoughts nudge, but he’s never had the largest appetite to begin with, and accidentally skipping days of meals while he was focused on a project never made his stomach hurt like it did now. he feels- he doesn’t know how he feels, he could stop and sit and think for a year but never know. the words he’s searching for are out of his reach, blurry, unknown to him even as he feels them all the same. he knows that it’s likely some sort of panic response, the ever-analytical sector of his mind forever chugging away and collecting data on his own feelings, but he doesn’t know why.

why?

he pulled a bag from his closet, blankly running through a checklist his brain pulled from thin air. the book rhinedottir left him was tucked into a pocket, the letter put away while the map stayed out. ‘mondstat,’ she said. he’d heard about it from alice—made sense, he was supposed to go there to see her—but while the name was familiar, he still didn’t know where it was.

he’d packed. nearly all of his belongings were tucked within the bag, save for maybe a few of the early textbooks he studied from simply due to space and weight. still, even as he set it on his desk and stared at the map, reading the names yet not registering the information, he didn’t feel ready.

feel. the word was beginning to lose meaning.

he felt things he didn’t understand and didn’t feel what he thought he should. he wasn’t angry that she left without warning, nor sad at the lack of assignments or the vagueness of the one he did receive. he wasn’t resentful—a word that hardly applied to him anyway—because she had left before she reviewed something he’d submitted to her. he wasn’t anything he knew, and everything he didn’t.

he was just… hollow.

albedo wiped the tears from his eyes and made an effort to read the map, understanding only the location of the lab, the marker designating north, and the city labeled mondstat. he folded the map and put it in his pocket, pulling a lab coat over his shoulders and hefting the bag. the door was cold, the wind outside even colder, and as he stared at the key in his palm, he wondered if it was even worth it to lock the door.

metal twisted within metal.

the chalk prince crumbled.

the first thing albedo noticed about mondstat was that it was tall.

buildings stretched higher than he’d ever seen, walls so tall he had to look up to see the guards patrolling along the top, bows in hand.

the second was that it was an island.

he checked the map rhine left him—and blocked out the part of his mind still documenting the bitterness in the back of his throat, wondering if it was emotion or illness—and upon further inspection, if he squinted.. the blurry lines revealed there was in fact water around the city.

he folded it away. at least he knows he has the right place?

he steps from the treeline where he’d been resting, pulling the familiar weight of his bag i’ve this shoulders and-

“albedo?”

he freezes, barely a foot from the shade of the whispering woods.

he turns, slowly, and sees red within one of the bushes. bright, a hat on top of a red coat, blonde twin tails broken up by specks of grass caught within them. the clover charm on klee’s hat caught the light, shining, and a warm pressure built up in his throat.

familiarity.

“klee.”

he can’t stop the way his voice almost cracks, strained with his journey (he’s alone) and the realization he’s been avoiding (maybe he was meant to be)

she lights up upon recognizing his voice, quickly rushing from the bush to latch herself onto his side. her arms wrap around him, and he tentatively sets one of his on her hat, unsure where to put it.

(her hair reminds him of rhinedottir’s, of the time she spent meticulously washing dust and debris from it after a long journey, of the blades of grass she flicked into the fire as she braided it away, tying it with a bright red ribbon alice had gifted her)

“klee’s so happy to see you! what are you doing here? where’s your mom? are you here to stay? oh, can i show you my new dodoco?”

albedo picked through her questions in his mind, deciding which would be safe ones to answer. “i’m here for your mother, alice. i’m… to deliver a letter to her.”

klee backed away, fitting her thumbs under her backpack straps. “klee can take you to her! i was going back to the city anyways.”

he glanced at the forest. “what were you doing there?”

her face suddenly flushed a bright pink, eyes flashing with what he assumed was embarrassment before she rushed forward, taking him by the hand and walking at a shockingly fast pace for somebody so young. “don’t worry about it!”

albedo had a feeling he should.

nonetheless, he followed, letting her lead up up to and across the bridge. it was empty, an eerie feeling settling over it as he walked. he wasn’t sure why; maybe it was the imposing height of the walls? maybe it was the guards in front of the gate, swords at their sides?

(suddenly, he was aware of the blade hanging at his side that rhinedottir had given him. had she known that would be the last time they met? or had she intended to teach him how to wield it?)

(he’s not sure which is more unbelievable)

the guard on the left brought his hand up in what albedo could only assume was some form of salute, in the process slightly blocking their path. “klee. who is with you?”

“this is albedo! he’s the son of a friend of mama’s, and klee’s friend too!”

the knight scanned him up and down, lingering slightly on his sword.

(would he have the heart to hand it over? would he feel better without a reminder of her, or worse that he’d give it up so easily?)

the guard eventually settled with a second salute, dipping slightly in a half-bow. “mondstat welcomes you, strange yet respectable traveler. please state your identity and purpose; the knight of favonius are here to ensure your safety.”

‘knights of favonius’… the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t tell why. maybe from one of alice’s tales?

still, he dipped his own head in greeting, partially to stall. ‘identity’…

“i am albedo… disciple of rhinedottir in the study of alchemy. i am here to deliver a letter to alice, klee’s mother.”

klee looked up at him with a pout. “you’re not staying longer? what happened to all the things we were going to do?”

he didn’t remember ever committing to anything prior. “that isn’t my choice, klee. even if i wished to stay, i have nowhere to.”

the knight cleared his throat before the conversation could continue. “according to the knights of favonius handbook, we are to accompany travelers through the city as needed…”

“it’s okay mr. knight! klee knows her way around the city! i can take albedo to mama and then show him around.”

the knights were clearly uneasy about the prospect, likely because of klee’s age, but eventually nodded, moving back to their posts.

“mondstat welcomes you.”

klee quickly pulled him forward again, into the city, a quick ‘thank you!’ thrown over her shoulder that was likely lost in the sea of noise.

mondstat was loud. and full. more people than he’d ever seen in his entire life were gathered in just the simple courtyard she pulled him through, the calls of venders and the orders of customers melding together into an indecipherable mess. he was thankful she took him to the side, up a staircase, if only to get away from the massive crowds.

“mama is at a meeting with the knights right now, which is good! you can bring her your letter and get help from the knights at the same time,” klee explained, slowing down slightly from all the stairs. no wonder the walls were giant: so was the rest of the city.

he tugged her back, slowing to a stop. “klee, i don’t think i’ll need the help of the knights. if alice is in a meeting, then we shouldn’t bother her.”

“who said i was in a meeting?”

klee moved faster than he did, turning towards her mothers voice and running towards her, attaching to her side much in the same way she did to him. the thought pulled the corners of his lips into a smile.

“mama!”

alice laughed, catching her daughter easily. “hello, little clover.” she looked up, shock and recognition pooling in her eyes. “albedo? what are you doing here? is rhinedottir with you?”

his muscles tensed at the mention of her name, the memories of the past week of travel threatening to bubble up. he swallowed them down and hoped his voice wasn’t shaky, “no, but i’m to bring you a letter from her.”

alice’s eyes moved to his shoulders, to the large bag he’d been carrying. “are you staying here?”

“…i don’t know.”

her face twisted with something, and she turned her attention to klee before he could ask.

“clover, could you do me a favor?”

klee stepped back, “of course! what is it?”

“i need to read over albedo’s letter and sort some other things out, okay? while i do that, could you show him around the city? he’s never been here, and i’m sure he’d love for you to help him get his bearings.”

klee nodded, clearly excited, and alice walked around her to him. he pulled the letter from his pocket, but she reached for his bag instead. “let me take this.”

“that’s not necessary, i-“

“-have nowhere to go, albedo. i’ll hold your things while you walk with klee.”

something earnest and soft cradled her words, a care to the way she smiled at him when he caved and handed over his bag. he felt lighter without it.

before he could think about it further, alice was gone and klee had taken his hand in hers again, tugging on it.

“albedo? are you okay? you look upset.”

ah….

he tried for a smile. “i was just thinking about something. where do you want to go first?”

she studied him for a moment, squinting slightly, before apparently coming to a decision.

“we’ll go to the cathedral first. mama always says that if you ask the creator really nicely you’ll sometimes get help with whatever your problem is, and you look like you have a lot of problems!”

there it was again, that title…

she began to walk before he could say anything, taking him up let another flight of stairs. this one was longer, curving, and gave him time to figure out how to phrase what he wanted.

“klee?”

she turned, but didn’t so much as slow, “hm?”

“who’s the creator? you left before you could say last time.”

klee did stop this time, so abruptly he nearly ran into her.

“how do you not know? everybody knows.”

she spoke with a mix of confusion and… something akin to indignation, so strange coming from somebody so young that by the time he registered her words, she had pulled him along again, faster.

“everybody knows,” she mumbled to herself. “everybody. the grand master asks for guidance and captain kaeya for wisdom, mama prays for knowledge and klee asks for inspiration. how do you not know?”

he felt bad, somehow, even though it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know. he knew that, he wasn’t a fool, it wasn’t his fault, it was…

(flashes of blonde hair flicker in his mind, the sharp command to ‘try again, and get it right this time’ echoing in his mind. already, it felt like a year ago he last saw her)

(could be truly blame her when his mistakes were his fault?)

klee leads him up to a large building—‘cathedral,’ he remembers—but takes him past the large doors, to the back. at the end, behind it all, was a small park-like space, large stones spaces equally across the space. the stones are carved with words, but she doesn’t let him get closer to read it.

she pointed, and he followed, jumping slightly at what he saw. against the back wall of the cathedral, seeming oddly at rest for being carved of stone, was a large statue. the pedestal it sat on was simple, but littered with offerings, the flowers looking fresh. if he had to guess, it was likely a shrine of sorts, probably to-

“that’s the creator.”

ah. he’d thought as much.

klee sat him down in front of the shrine, beginning to tell a story. it’s simple, one told to children, but it’s gets the message across to him.

the creator was to teyvat what rhinedottir was to him. divine hands shaped the mountains and plains, breathing life into the soil. the very purest form of creation, forming something- forming everything from nothing, the smallest of flowers and largest of trees planted with barely a thought. rivers cut through the earth at will, every blade of grass placed by the hand of the one that made it.

klee told a story of the birth of the universe, of the colors on an invisible pallet that painted the planets and dotted the sky with stars. she sat on stone and fiddled with her dodoco, her voice never wavering as she repeated everything she was told, graciously filling albedo in.

in return, albedo untied the sword at his side, laying it down in front of the shrine. the blade felt uncharacteristically heavy, his hands cold, but he still set it down gently.

it was a lot of information, but he managed, carefully filing everything away as the way he viewed the world slowly changed. it made sense; everything had to come from somewhere, after all.

he looked not at the sheath, but through it, at the inscription along the center. ‘as the creator forged, so too do i serve.’

perhaps he and the blade were more similar than he thought.

no bladesmith made a weapon without a purpose. no alchemist dedicated years to a project only to stop when they reached the final product. nothing was made without being tested, nothing was alive without being taught, no sword was made without an edge.

and yet, somebody had to teach the smith. somebody had to guide their hammer to the stool, their hands along a sharpening stone, trained them in the skills of polishing and oiling. no god created an art without a an artist, and no teacher let their pupil loose without granting them the skills to continue the craft.

no tool existed without intention. no smith existed without their mentor prior, nor without their own student to teach.

rhinedottir may have abandoned him, but his creator never would. they would not let him be set loose without purpose, nor discarded without reason. he could tell, simply by sitting in front of the marble statue, that this was the case.

he could feel it in the wind. in the gentle breeze they guided, sweeping his worth from his shoulders. in the ground beneath him, that never grew uncomfortable. he could sense the subtle presence of the creator, the way the grass seemed to point towards the pedestal of the statue or how the sun seemed a little less harsh back here making it evident. albedo could feel the creator’s intentions as his eyes moved back to the sword, to the reminder of rhine that bore a carved reminder of them, feel the reassurance in the etched words. amidst the sea of confusion surrounding rhinedottir’s disappearance, they had appeared, stretching a hand to pull him out and back ashore, to the banks of stability.

albedo reached back.

they felt warm.

#philosophical rambles + explanations in the tags btw #genshin #genshin impact #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin self aware au #sagau albedo #albedo #genshin albedo #klee #sagau klee #this piece totals a bit over 10k. what does albedo do to me.#oh and to summarize the admittedly kinda shit metaphor: rhine saw albedo as a tool to be used; one she discarded after he served his purpose #sorry fellas :/ i know i tend to be vague but this…. is a whole other level #oh vindagnyr was the name of dragonspine before durin’s body fell on it btw. she’s bitter abt the name bc she saw durin as a failed project #OH and the feathers are bc naberius was described as a raven. sorry for all the explaining i’m doing—#(described as in the genshin wiki referenced wikipedias page on naberius that said raven)#the title is from albedos character story abt a lesson rhine taught him and represents how he understands the creator created him not rhine #< technically. but oh well i hate rhine anyway. at least in this specific fic #also in this rhines final assignment is never meant to be completed. she probably doesn’t think synthetic beings are capable of shit like #feelings or rational thought. her mind: chance of albedo finding meaning in life is <0. too bad for her because IM writing this. not her #PLOT TWIST RHINEDOTTIR I GET TO WRITE THE RULES AND I SAY ALBEDO IS AS HUMAN AS I AM #EAT ASS #I FUCKED UP THE TITLE FUCK

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afreakingdork · 4 months

Text

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.

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

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yokiidokii · 10 months

Text

Reagan Ridley X GN!Reader

Literally, nobody requested this. I just needed it.

Warnings: None! Just some soft Reagan lovin, take care of the babygorl

I tapped my fingers along the worn doorframe, white paint chipping off near where the door had been opened and shut over the years.

“Rea?”

I heard her hum in acknowledgment without turning. Her hair a mess even as it was pulled back, static-ridden hair flying closer to the screen in front of her, her lab-coat from work thrown over the back of her chair and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. I wanted to sigh, I hated to admit how good she looked right now- especially in the state she was.

“Rea come on, you gotta get some rest.”

She off-handedly waved one of her hands while the other continued to work. “I can sleep later-”

I meandered my way closer tilting my head to the side “Hon you said that 30n minutes ago when I came in and asked you to come to bed.”

“Yeah.” she nodded clicking two things on her desk together “It isn’t later yet.”

I snickered placing my hands on her chair and slowly but surely spinning her around to face me.

As she turns she sighs, hands moving to wipe at her seemingly always tired eyes.

“Come to bed Rea” I plea as I crouch down a little bit, placing a hand on her knee. “We can order out tomorrow and you can work then yeah? Or we could take our lunch break together and go to McUltras?”

She hums. Her calloused but warm hand resting on top of mine, thumb brushing against my knuckle. “Okay, let’s get some sleep.”

#reagan ridley #reagan inside job #reagan ridley x reader #inside job #inside job x reader #inside job imagine #inside job x gn!reader #Inside Job x GN! reader #Reagan Ridley x gn!reader #Just some soft shit #fluff #inside job fluff #I just needed somethin nice #<3 I hope you enjoy

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Can we meet the mysterious third sibling?

"What? What do you mean they're on their way?"

...

"Huh? They're right outside?"

You go to open the door you now found yourself at after walking down a long, white corridor; but as the handle pulls, a large figure slamming against the glass stops you from entering. You can see its hulking shape as it holds the door shut; muttering obscurities as it looks around the room.

"Shit. Uh- please hang on a moment while we - er- I tidy a few things up. Shouldn't taken more than a few minutes."

The following ten minutes after accompanied by loud crashes and frantic rambling. The broom wedged into the door's handle is removed as the voice speaks again.

"Okay, you can enter now."

You step inside the room to the scene of a laboratory if a tornado had run through it. Bits of broken material littered the floor. Cupboards were stuffed to the brim and blankets were thrown over things they were too big to hold. A chalkboard stands to one side with its previous contents erased in a hurry. You can make out the first few letters of your name. A hand quickly turns it over, but its just more scribbles of your name. Someone clears their throat.

"Ahem.."

You turn to meet the other party in the room. Their skin shimmers under the dim lights like the wax of a lit candle; carved with intricate details akin to the weavings of lace. Their hair falls to their lower back; curly, spread out, and adorned with multiple eyes through their locks. Their own face has six eyes and sits partially detached from the black silhouette of its head. They wear a lab coat and nothing else with its back cut open for their avian wings; two arms fitted along the top of their upper bones. The eye in the center of their chest centers on you as they speak.

"Well! If it isn't my favorite lost soul that I most definitely haven't been watching through yours entire journey. What can I do for you today?"

"Um... someone told me you have a way into the human world?"

Their eyes twitch. "Pardon?"

"Is there anyway you could send me home?"

"Oh! Haha-...." They grab their face as with their wing appendages it shifts, holding up a finger for pause. "Please give me a moment. I need to talk with my associate about something."

The demon hurries behind the chalkboard, crouching behind a few cardboard boxes from what you can see underneath. An unfinished figurine pops out from one of the crates. It kinda looks like you, but dresses up as a maid. You round the corner, eavesdropping on the conversation it seems to be having with itself. The second voice is much raspier then the first, and struggles at keeping a low volume.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know. When you were talking to them, it was all about you so why should I help now?"

"This is not something you want to dump on a person when you've just met them."

"Hey- If I hadn't seen them, they would've noticed the journals you left on the table. The one about the coffee shop."

"It's a cute scenario and you know it." They hiss.

"We're not starting this shit right-

"Excuse me?"

The demon looks back at you; face a slightly darker shade of white bordering on pink and eyes narrow. It rotates back to the first as it quickly raises to its feet.

"Meeting adjourned! Haha- unfortunately, the technology used for that is unable at this due to... technical difficulties, but I can house you for the time being. I know what type of mattress you prefer already and have filled a wardrobe full of clothing I think you might fancy... This is custom for all humans I met, of course. There's no reason to doubt me so - please don't."

#yandere demon #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere teratophilia #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere monster #yandere demon x reader #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing

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milflewis · 8 months

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Danterri! Anything you're in the mood for

"Well, doc, hit us - will he live or nah?"

Jenson zooms in on Valtteri's face, mouth a flat line. DR.BOTTAS is stitched onto the pocket of his lab coat, dark grey, sleeves rolled up. His scrub top underneath is rumpled and pulled at the collar and he's in the same jeans he had on when they med-evaced Sebastian in last night after a Kaiju took a chunk out of the REDBULL.

"No," he says, turning back to the tablet in his hands. Sebastian laughs off to the side, hoarse. When the camera turns to him, Lewis is helping him sit up, rolling his eyes. He looks tired. There are red marks along one cheek as if he was holding it in one hand. Sebastian looks worse, cheeks a little hollowed out and pale, hair limp and flat. There's a bruise spreading across half his face. His hand falls on top of the sheet when he settles back into his pillows. If he reached out he'd be able to cover Lewis's knuckles with his fingers.

"Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?" Daniel is telling Valtteri, leaning into the frame, eyebrows wagging. Jenson laughs and the camera shakes slightly. "C'mon, mate."

"No," Daniel laughs, sharp. He looks like he hasn't slept too - the camera draining the colour from him even more. There's a sleep quiet snuffle in the pause left after, and the camera zooms in on Mark kicked back in the chair on Sebastian's other side, feet propped up on the bed, fast asleep.

"I'm just saying." Daniel's voice is loud and easily picked up by the mic for all that Lewis is quickly shushing under his breath. "It's, like, genuinely shit. You should work on it."

"Sorry." Valtteri doesn't shout. He doesn't sound very sorry. "Who are you again?"

The bright lights of the Shatterdome's medical ward make Sebastian look terrible but he's grinning at the camera when Jenson swings it his way. The grey walls behind him don't help. He gives it an overly exaggerated look: these guys, huh?

Lewis starts faintly humming his In All Ways But Physical I Am Not Here Right Now song that Jenson dubbed months ago in one of his earliest A Day In The Life Of A Jaeger Pilot vlogs. He has yet to properly sing for him despite the hundreds of thousands of requests in the comments.

Michael's aviator jacket is thrown over the end of Sebastian's bed, covering his feet. The SCHUMACHER sewn onto the back just barely visible.

Sebastian rolls his head to the side, one half of his face smushing into his pillow. One eye blinks at Lewis. Jenson focuses in on Lewis's face, carefully watching Daniel who has yet to look away from Valtteri. He always did get mean when he was worried.

And no one quite knew where to poke Daniel Ricciardo like Valtteri Bottas.

Lewis softens fractionally when he turns his attention to Sebastian. Jenson zooms back out, not needing to see all that up close.

"Do some Beatles for me?"

Lewis laughs for the first time since Jenson heard him declare the REDBULL out of commission over the comms hours ago. It makes him look younger.

"Maybe at your funeral," he says, not quite kind, and grins over at Valtteri. Jenson just catches the end of Valtteri's sideye. His shoulders loosen as he looks at Sebastian, putting down his tablet on the bedside locker, careful not to hit Mark.

"You'll be fine," Valtteri tells him, and Daniel's face twists. Jenson is careful not to catch it on camera - not that most, if any, of this will end up in the weekly vid. "Until next time, you do something stupid," Valtteri adds, dry. Sebastian only sends him a salute, grinning, before he winks at the camera.

Born for the telly, the cunt, Jenson thinks, near breathless with relief.

#ok this is more seb/sewis centric im so sorry! just started typing and it came out!#more dantteri vibes than naything else help #part of the pacific rim au that i Will finsih i swear!#dantteri #pacific rim fic #little fics #niamh.asks

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uncannysam · 1 month

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PARTIES: @eldritchaccident, @uncannysam, ft. Scout & Teddy & Sam's son TIMING: Mid January SUMMARY: Sam and Teddy are in for a real treat when a recent trade-in comes to life and wreaks havoc on the store! WARNINGS: None! Just some cuteness!

Something about comic shops always enraptured Teddy. A nostalgia filled promise of a familiar welcoming space. Despite never having been in this one before, they had a few ideas of what they could expect. Rows and rows of the newest covers, the latest stories, and the biggest names. At least a few tables of old comics, worn from love. The lovely glass counters containing trinkets that could transport you across ages of nerdy content. It was one of the things they could always rely on no matter where they moved. The consistency the kid needed as they grew.

The bell chimed nicely as the ex-demon pushed through the entrance, happily holding the door for the stranger who was rushing out. Maybe they had a whole stack of Magic the Gathering cards to unwrap, or just really wanted to dive into the latest Gwenpool. Understandable. Teddy offered them a smile, didn’t even really care that it wasn’t returned because the clerk (and the adorable dog) at the counter both seemed to be sporting a grin.

“Oh man I think this just became my favorite shop, who IS this little guy??” If there was one constant in this crazy world, it’s that Theodore Jones fucking loved dogs. Any kind of dog really. Golden Retriever, Rottweilers, Mutts, Poodles, Schnauzers, Perro specifically, Labs, Cats, Papillions, Spaniels of all sorts, Huskies, Malamutes, Dobermans, Shepherds Australian, German, or otherwise. Didn’t even have to be a real dog, Ted’d probably like it.

—

“Thanks! Come again!” The trade-in value of some of the comic books and things the previous customer had just turned in was going to be enough to help with rent, bills and food for the rest of the month, and Sam wasn’t complaining. In fact, she had promised to take some homemade looking Funko! Pop off of his hands just because he had thrown in so many other good comics, which hadn’t raised any suspicions at all aside from the fact that it had been one of the ugliest looking things she had ever laid eyes on.

“Scout, I think he just bought us a good dinner tonight.” Sam smiled down at the dog as she picked up the box full of back issues of many popular comics off the counter and moved them to a countertop lining the wall behind her. And when she turned around, she noticed another customer had entered the building, and one who was apparently very enthusiastic about dogs.

Grinning and in a rare good mood, Sam walked over to Scout and kneeled down, “This is Scout. My right hand man, and I’m Sam.” She looked up at them and stuck out her hand, “What can I help you with today?”

—

Among Ted's multitude of mixed and matched jobs, walking or grooming dogs (any animals really) was probably the top pick. Any place that let man's best friend ‘work’ alongside the far less impressive and lovely humans, was a winner. A grin split their cheeks wide as they approached, happily taking Sam's hand before offering their own for the pup to sniff.

Admittedly, Teddy had almost forgotten why they came by as soon as they saw Scout. The momentary lapse left them fumbling slightly for the words. The verbal version of opening the refrigerator just to stare into the chilly depths before finally grabbing what you wanted. “Right uh– hey, hi, I'm Teddy. Sorta just– walked by this place a few times and never had a chance to actually come in. Which is a crime, because it's amazing in here.”

Their eyes wandered around for a moment, excitedly soaking in the colorful covers and interesting figurines and decorations, until their eyes fell on a statue of a familiar red demon with a tan trench coat and a big old right hand. “Any chance you guys carry the latest BPRD series?” Hellboy itself was done, the story finished, but the series about all the other folks in that universe? Well it was still going and still amazing.

With all the attention on the dog, the shop owner, and the rest of Escape Your Fate Comics, Teddy didn't even notice the slight shaking of the odd little box off to the side of the counter.

—

Sam gave Teddy a firm handshake, before releasing it and watching as they went to greet Scout. Scout was the star of Escape Your Fate. He usually hung out by the register or in the back, but it never failed that once people laid eyes on him, they had to say hello; which Sam never minded, because he had been a great ice breaker for people who might have been nervous about coming into the shop.

With a warm smile in the direction of her best friend, Sam put her sights back on her potential customer, “I get that a lot, unless comics are your primary goal for leaving the house. She actually came in on a good day. The guy that left as you were coming in just traded in some good books.” Sam didn’t even acknowledge the weird looking Pop that sat in off on its own. If Teddy noticed and wanted it, it was theirs.

“BPRD...Let me check.” Sidestepping, she pulled up the inventory in her computer and found what she was looking for. “So anything I have in stock is going to be over here.” Moving out from behind the counter, she walked over to the shelf that held a few of the volumes and some of the past issues of Hellboy. “I’ve also got back issues over there in the corner, but you’d have to sort through those. All those books are 99 cents. Anything else I can help you with, just let me know. And if I come across anything in that stack on the counter, I’ll let you know.” Sam moved back to her pile of comics to sort through to give Teddy some space.

—

The strange little pop figure in the box didn’t like being overlooked so easily. The human behind the counter gave it sidelong glances like it was ‘homemade’ rather than crafted by the gods themselves (okay, well, the miniature creature didn’t exactly know how it came into being, but it liked to believe that it was a gift to the earth.) Then this caster comes in and doesn’t even spare it a second look! What did a figurine need to do to get some respect around here? Huh? The box began to shimmy and shake as the stone came to life, springing from its trappings and alerting the others in the shop to its presence.

A tiny roar, not quite… small sounding, but almost distant. Teddy heard it, but at first they weren’t looking in the shop to find its source. If it wasn’t for the clarity they would have assumed it was far down the street, but no. It just sounded… tiny. The ex-demon’s attention shifted from the jackpot collection of books (That they were absolutely about to purchase almost all of, and probably then some more from the other displays.) to the minuscule terror throwing a tantrum on the counter.

Magic cards and mystery box figurines were being tossed left and right as the creature raged. It jumped up on the cash register and held aloft a tiny scepter it stole from a very well crafted Skeletor statuette. It cried out again, but Teddy didn’t understand what it was trying to say. “S-Sam??” Was this normal in this shop? Ted looked on in a mix of confusion and a little awe, it was… surprisingly cute, for how filled with anger and fury it seemed to be.

—

Scout immediately stood up and started barking loudly at the tiny creature shaking its small box prison. The dog was curious, but also startled by its actions. He had been around the shop long enough to know that mom’s figurines and stacks of delicious looking paper to tear up was not to play with and never moved on its own unless prompted. But this was completely different, and with his bright colored eyes, he followed the creature’s movement across the counter and over to the computer; tail wagging fiercely as he continued to bark.

It had certainly garnered Sam’s attention. And turning around, she set her eyes on the dog, “Scout! Hush!” It wasn’t until she heard Teddy speak her name that her eyes went from Scout to them to the figurine that was now crying out a tiny war cry and threatening her with its scepter, “What the actual fuck?” She quickly glanced back at Teddy with narrowed eyes, “Well that explains why that guy was in such a hurry to leave…”

Not hesitating any longer, Sam slowly began to approach the animated object that continued to yell at her in its miniscule booming voice, “I can’t…What are you saying?” As she moved in closer, she finally leaned down, not feeling one bit threatened trying to hear what it was saying, until she was whacked fiercely and repeatedly with the end of the tiny toy it was holding, “Ow! You little shitass!” Jumping back, she rubbed her cheek seeing the tiniest bit of blood on her fingers, “Okay, I don’t know what the fuck you are, but we’re not playing this game.” After rubbing her hand on her jeans, Sam moved in and reached out to grab the tiny gargoyle, until she watched it quickly take off towards the ceiling; Scout, still barking excitedly at the moving figurine.

—

Teddy tried to hold in the laugh that burst from their chest in a way that would make Ridley Scott proud. They tried. Even put a hand in front of their mouth to catch the huff of air. It wasn’t funny, it shouldn’t have been funny. Sam got thwacked and the small stone creature was still throwing a tantrum. But the sight of its ‘extremely fierce’ weapon complete with glittery light up resin bauble at the top was a little too much to take seriously.

Which of course, only angered the now flying creature. The gargolito swirled and swooped. Covering the distance of the store like a vulture looking for its next meal. One it found in the mop of Teddy’s peachy pink hair. It dove and grabbed a fistful, and was surprisingly strong enough to carry the cackling caster a few feet before giving up and huffing a loud sigh. Teddy swatted and squirmed but the ‘danger’ was over before they even had a real chance to react.

“Hey!! Rude!! That hurt you little shit.” Their eyes flicked back to Sam, who was clearly just about as stunned and done as they were. “What the hell do you want??”

The grumpy mini-grotesque perched on top of a revolving rack of comics and eyed the trio. Squinting and baring its teeth as Teddy yelled, but then tilting its head when asked. That was more like it. The humans should have been asking that from the beginning. But unfortunately neither seemed to understand its tiny tyrades. So it pointed. Using the scepter to aim at a different glass case. Though Teddy couldn’t quite tell what it was looking for specifically. Maybe Sam would have a better idea, it was her store.

—

Sam followed the little menace with her eyes as it flew around her store, and when it landed in Teddy’s hair, she set her focus on it. What is this little shit up to? However, seeing the person be picked up off the ground and moved a few feet by something so tiny left the woman stunned. How could something so small have so much strength? But before she could make an effort to run over to make sure they were okay, she noticed it had put them back down and now found a spot on a rack, “Are you okay?”

It didn’t seem like the conversation was going so well, until it cocked its head to the side – cute, but something Sam wouldn’t openly admit. She let her eyes follow the scepter to the glass case containing a rare, unopened WWE Sheamus action figure dressed in royal garb, and then it hit her; the little hellion wanted the crown and the cape from the action figure, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She looked back over at the statue and glared, “No. That thing’s worth nearly a hundred dollars. I’m not opening it up, just so you can play dress-up!”

Scout had finally tired himself out barking and laid down on the floor looking between Sam, Teddy, and the tiny demanding toy with his head cocked to the side. It was more excitement than he was used to experiencing in the store.

Sam shook her head no and moved over towards the corner. This TOY wasn’t going to bully her into opening something that would pay a bill. Grabbing a broom, she spun it around with the broom head facing upward prepared to chase the little nuisance out the store if she had to.

—

For the briefest of moments, Teddy thought the tiny stone menace was going to pull a cosmic horror Charlie Brown on the pair. When they saw the broom come out, they could see the arc of where it might land. The creature dodging the bristles just in time for it to come crashing down on their head. But no, the angry little gargoyle was already off terrorizing a different part of the store.

Teddy was just playing catch up. Drifting back from the daydream that unwillingly played out as if it had happened. A fairly common thing for them really. Everything always seemed to feel a bit dreamlike. Sometimes a bit more nightmarish, but you know, kept shit interesting.

The creature was lamenting, pointing at something it wanted and Sam was shouting something about rent. When their head had stopped spinning from the shock of being pulled by their hair and the vision of a broom crashing over their noggin, Teddy snapped back to the present.

“Woah hey, if the little guy wants that, I’ll buy it. I’ll pay double. Maybe it’ll calm him down??” Teddy wasn’t sure, but it was worth a try, wasn’t it? Better to soothe it than anger it more, right?

—

Sam stopped dead in her tracks when Teddy said they’d pay double. If they really wanted to buy the little menace a $100 toy, then that was their business, and she wasn’t going to stop them, “If you really want to pay that much, then fine.” She slowly put the broom back down, keeping her eyes trained on the little stone statue. Sam didn’t trust the thing, and she wasn’t ready to turn her back to it just yet.

Eyes still trained on it, Sam moved over to where she kept the keys to the case full of her most valuable goods, “Are you happy you little, shit ass. You’re getting exactly what you want.” She glared at it while she moved towards the case and when she found the key she needed, she unlocked it and reached up on the top shelf to grab the figure of Sheamus, untouched and still in the original packaging. It was going to pain her to see Teddy open up the box just so some little possessed Funko! Pop Doll could feel like a king.

When Sam got back to the register, after locking up the case again, she put the keys away and rang up the toy, “If you’re sure about this, then the total comes to $100 even. I’m not charging you double. But consider this the most expensive toy you’ve ever bought just to watch it get trashed.” She refused to put it in a bag. What was the point? “And you’re opening it for him, because I can’t bear to see what happens.”

—

There should have been a twinge of guilt. Or perhaps remorse, but Teddy Jones had not been raised to worry about things like giving into temptation. If anything, it was encouraged. If anything, Teddy could understand the small stone creature’s desire a little too well. Back home, there was a litany of expensive toys. Rare collectibles. Mostly paid for. While they may not have been a demon anymore, they were certainly raised by one, though one might have expected a damn dragon with the way Teddy tended to hoard things.

It wasn't always like that. They weren't always as lucky. Teddy had spent the better part of their childhood staying in motels or camping if they were on land, otherwise the child simply slept on their father's monstrous back or belly while floating in the ocean. Like an eldritch otter family. (No wonder they'd taken to Pascal so quickly) It wasn't until much later that Leviathan started using its connections and prowess to collect a much more permanent source of income. A much more vast vault of wealth. Something Teddy could spend frivolously for the rest of their days and still not burn through.

So maybe they should have felt guilt that they were spending a hundred bucks (so incredibly not the most expensive toy they owned) on something just to have it ‘wasted’. Teddy didn't see it like that. They saw a small creature trying to figure out its place in the world. Trying to vye for the respect it wanted, and the care it deserved. Teddy smiled towards Sam, paid in cash, then carefully removed the crown from the packaging.

The creature was delighted. It cooed and crooned, twirling in the air and yelping with joy before landing on a shelf behind the counter and reverting back to its still stony form. A watchful, and very prideful, little guardian gargoyle.

“I think he likes your shop. Just wanted to be a little King.”

—

Sam had worked hard to get where she was. It had taken her years to build up her courage. To tell herself that she was good enough and deserving enough to have her dreams and then some. That just because people in the world saw her as being different didn’t mean she deserved any less. And when she had finally built up enough courage to take her first step forward, she then had to work on gaining the knowledge for pursuing her hopes and goals. Working harder than her fellow classmates and not giving up anytime rejection pushed her back down. And once she had far surpassed those who assumed they were better than her, even if the assumption had been unspoken, Sam had to financially tackle her dreams. Another task that took even more work, time, and energy piled on top of a never-ending uphill battle, and the day she was finally able to flip on the Open sign to Escape Your Fate, was the day she knew she had made it.

But now, Sam stood watching as a possessed little toy was pampered with one of the most expensive things in her shop; bought by someone who threw away money like it was no issue to them. And with it, came an unexpected dig into her heart and all she had worked for and continued to work for. But the money was in her pocket now, and once she had seen the reaction to the toy spinning in joy, before quietly taking its place behind her as if nothing had ever happened, she realized it was probably for the best.

“He’s not going to do this every time he wants something from me is he? I can’t afford to give a toy anything it wants just because he tries to trash my shop. If that’s the case, you might as well take our son home with you.” Their son. So aptly named, because in that moment Sam and Teddy had to calm down a cursed Funko! Pop that was acting like a five year old.

As she looked back one last time at the small statue dressed as a king, Sam couldn’t help but shake her head, before turning back to face Scout and Teddy, “Is that all or were you looking for something else today?”

—

“Who can say? But uhh. How about this, put me down for a subscription of toys and comics and what not. You choose ‘em, just a whole bunch. Whatever you think is fair. And I'll send money every month. If he wrecks something, put less stuff aside. Or nothing at all.” Teddy hummed happily, loving the idea of a little surprise box they'd get to pick up. A good enough reason to come out of the house, an even better reason to come and check in on the store to make sure everything was still okay.

“Call it child support.”

#para: not so fun-ko #para: teddy #wickedswriting #eldritchaccident

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