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[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 593, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Welp, I started writing another Peter Steele FanFiction. Let me know down before in a comment if you want me to start posting it!

WORDS: 1210

I giggled as I kept an eye on little girl and the babies just having fun bopping all over the Chuck E Cheese. I couldn’t help but notice Christopher refusing to interact with any of the kids, instead moving away from his mom whenever she would try to talk to him.

“Hey, can I try?” I asked her, nudging her elbow. “Mom to mom, sometimes kids need someone else to talk to.”

“Yeah, would you please?”

I smiled at her before taking a seat next to Christopher, my mommy senses telling me that the pack of Ratajczyk children were safe and off having fun.

“Hihi, your name is Christopher, isn’t it?” I hummed gently, giving him the choice to interact with me or not.

“Yes.”

I smiled at his quiet meep, taking the chance to ask him about his book, a tattered edition of one of the Magic Treehouse books.

A quiet spark appeared in his eyes before he began to excitedly chatter my ear off about Shakespearean history and the Tudor dynasty.

“Have you ever been to a renaissance faire?” he asked me, wonder and amazement crossing over his face when I informed him that I worked as a player for two of the biggest faires on the east coast. “Wow, that’s so cool!”

“Do you know who Jaques Ze Whipper is?” I asked him, taking out my cell phone

“Are you ready, kids?” James yelled as he beat out a tempo using his trusty whips.

“AYE AYE CAPTAIN!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“AYE AYE CAPTAIN!”

“Oooooooooooooh…

Who draws on a mustache and acts like a clown?”

“Jaques Ze Whipper!”

“If you ever see him you won’t ever frown!”

“Jaques Ze Whipper!”

“Is French whipping something that you want to see?”

“Jaques Ze Whipper!”

“Then come on everyone and sing with me!”

“Jaques Ze Whipper!

Jaques Ze Whipper!

Jaques Ze Whipper!

Jaques Ze Whipper!

Jaques Ze Whipper!”

My friend since childhood finished up the song by miming playing a little horn.

“That’s Vanessa’s Papa Bear,” he pointed out.

“I know he is, but he also goes by Jaques Ze Whipper at faires and other such events,” I shrugged.

“Wowiee…” He broke off and peered around me, catching sight of Peter on his knee, allowing little girl access to kiss the sleeping triplet’s foreheads. “That’s Vanessa’s Papa Pete.”

“He is, yes,” I confirmed. “He is the best daddy in the world to the kids.” And he is also the best daddy to me, my mind told me, but I batted that away with a light blush tinging my befreckled cheeks.

“Can he be my daddy?” Christopher wondered. “My daddy went to heaven.”

My heart broke into clear pieces as his whole story was revealed to me. His father had died, leaving behind a wife and a son. I collected Cristopher as he leaned deeply into me, welcoming my arm to wrap around him.

“He had been living in the hospital, and one day, mommy told me that we wouldn’t be visiting him anymore,” he frowned, picking at his jeans.

Poor baby, I frowned, looking up as Christopher’s mother reapproached us, having nipped off to pay a visit to the bathroom to powder her nose.

“I haven’t seen Christopher this calm in a hot minute!” she said before picking up on the somber mood between the both of us. “He told you about his dad?” I could only nod- no child out there should lose a parent so suddenly. “What would you do?”

“Be honest- what else could I do?” I shrugged, reaching up to wipe at my leaking eyes. “When Baby Violet Marie passed, Peter had some of her ashes made into bracelets for the kids to wear. The both of us also welcome the kids to come to us and talk about their emotions, and we also heavily encourage them to follow their interests- dance and theater for Elizabeth, color guard and Chinese for Katie and the babies are coming into their own- Baby Tommy is keenly interested in ballet and cooking though.”

“Oh,” she hummed, and I realized that Christopher had fallen asleep leaning up against me, his itty bitty fingers entangled in my loose curls. “I follow you on Instagram, I really wish I was more like you, but I work as a nurse for mentally disabled kids, so at the end of the day when I get home from my job, I just want to crash in bed. But first, I have Christopher to take care of- homework, dinner, tucking him into bed…”

“Don’t you have any upcoming days off?” I asked her, my heart only cracking all the more at her head shake as a “No” answer.

“Not since before Henry died.” She rushed to explain herself. “It is sadly extremely expensive to live today, especially in New York. I am working to save for the both of us to move back to my hometown in Minnesota. My parents still live there and the schools are nice. Christopher will only prosper there.”

“Ah,” I hummed, understanding her reasoning. “May I offer you some advice?”

“Sure, go ahead,” she answered as Baby Tommy appeared in the doorway to the party room, worry written clear as day over his chubby face.

“Wait a little bit if you can before announcing that you’re moving due to your husband’s death,” I advised her, looking up as little girl began to race towards me. “Moving so soon after his passing might lead to him rebelling against you in more ways than you might like.”

“Mommy,” he wept. “A man pushed kicked liddle gurl and took Baby Noah!”

“What?” I gasped, looking up as Peter and Elizabeth herded the kids back over to me. “Oh no!”

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 592, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1104

“Papa Pete! Mama Wen Wen!”

I chuckled as I dropped to my knees to gift little girl with a late birthday hug.

The little missy’s fifth birthday party was at the local Chuck E Cheeses, and her own, personal table was a happy mess of nineteen little boys and girls from her kindergarten class.

Elizabeth and Elle, Katie and Jing, Baby Tommy, Baby Eve and Baby Noah came in behind Peter and I, my beefcake of a husband wearing the Ratajczyk triplets bundled in on my burly chest.

“Liddle girl!” crowed Baby Tommy, leading the charge to hug his older sister, the four babies colliding into each other and ending up on the ground in a cackling mess.

Peter was laughing as the girls came up to hug the birthday girl next, the both of them sandwiching the tiny five year old between the both of them and their American Girl dollies.

I was well aware of the other moms and some dads whispering amongst themselves, and I knew that they were only lusting after my handsome husband as he was showing little girl’s classmates the tiny little triplets in his arms, his deep, rumbly voice soft and gentle as he interacted with them.

“Your husband is good with kids!”

“He has a bunch of nieces and great nieces, so he already had good practice by the time I met him!” I told the mom with a chuckle.

“I would imagine so- how many kids do you have, anyway?”

“Well…” I huffed out another giggle. “Elizabeth is Peter’s daughter from a previous relationship. Katie is a friend of Elizabeth’s from school, and Peter and I adopted her a few years back. Elle and Jing are the girls’ American Girl mini me dollies. Vanessa Rose, or little girl, as we all call her, is my daughter, who I carried as a surrogate for her daddies, and Peter is her godfather and favorite person in the whole wide world. Baby Tommy is our son, Baby Eve is our adopted daughter and Baby Noah is our nephew. The triplets- Baby Mattie, Baby Teddy and Baby Jojo- are the last of the Ratajczyk kids.”

“Oh? Has that been determined for certain?”

“Peter had a vasectomy last year, so yes,” I frowned at her. “It has been written, and so the fates have been decided. And so it had been written.”

“Oh.”

Little girl was now introducing her younger siblings to her peermeates, with Baby Tommy very clearly becoming overwhelmed. He tucked his head into his arms, folding himself into his older sister’s back, creating an absolutely adorable sight, which I snapped with my cell phone to post onto my social media at a later date.

“Hihi James! Hihi Aaron!” I greeted my daughter’s daddies with affectionate hugs.

“Hihi, Mary Claire!” James greeted me, sporting a Triceratops like appearance with three hot pink party hats strapped to his head. “How are things?”

“Doing good!” I answered him, watching as my husband commanded the attention of the kiddos and their parents with an easy smile on his handsomely bearded face. “I regained all of my hearing back, by the way!”

“Yay yay!” cheered James, chuckling as the last round of little girl’s little school friends came up to the table, a surly little man, who threw a wrapped present onto the table, hanging back as his mother tried to gently force him to interact with the others. “Oh, Chrisopher is here- can you ask Peter to keep an eye on him? He’s a wild kid- he’s already been in trouble for pushing four different kids on the school playground. I only invited him because I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

“James, it’s not a crime to lay down a boundary,” I sighed, keeping an eye on the pouting little man. “You are allowed to say to the parents, I don’t feel comfortable about hosting Cristopher at little girl’s birthday party. And if his parent doesn’t respect your boundary, you just walk away.”

“Noted,” he grinned at me, stooping to place his chin on my shoulder. “I wish I had your backbone.”

“I only developed my backbone after meeting Peter,” I shrugged, watching as Christopher pushed himself out of his mom’s arms and sulked to sit at an empty seat, staring down at his neatly folded hands. “I kind of had to, especially after all the traumatizing shit that the both of us had been through!”

The both of us shared a chuckle, turning back to Aaron as he tucked his cell phone away in his back pocket.

“Sorry, my work never ends,” he chuckled, joining us and turning to look out at the kids.

Just then, a person in a fluffy gray costume came out through a door.

“CHUCK E CHEESES!” screeched someone, causing for the kids to race over and knock the giant mouse down onto the ground in their joy at seeing the costumed mascot.

Christoper went over and kicked at the back paw of the fallen mouse, being rewarded by his mother’s sharp voice calling out his name.

“He sure does seems to be a handful,” I hummed in a soft voice as little girl leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to the mouse’s nose. “Good job being gentle, little girl!”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 591, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1094

I smiled as I watched the kids playing in the backyard from my place up in the master bedroom balcony. Even though I was unable to hear them shouting, my mommy senses were telling me that they were having fun as they were supervised by Miss Mittens the motherly cat and her not a kitten, little Primrose frolicking closely behind her.

And now, I am happily ever after, with my husband, my children, and our undying love for one another. Nothing more, and nothing less.

And with that, I completed writing my autobiography, appropriately retitled as Tattooed Wings. I had laid everything out- from my history with the despicable excuse of a human being, my mom hiding my following pregnancy and aborting my baby before I knew of my condition, me needing to grow up and become another parents to my two younger sisters, running away at the age of eighteen to go attend Julliard’s on a full ride scholarship, acting as a surrogate to James and Aaron, meeting Peter, our whirlwind romance, little girl’s unexpected birth at the birthday party that I was sharing with my two younger sisters, my marriage to Peter, my transaition from Mary Claire Bradley to Mary Claire Ratajczyk…

There! Now all I need to do is send my final draft off to my publisher for her to work her magic! I thought before emailing a copy to Peter for him to get an advanced copy to read. I powered down my laptop computer and set it off to the side in the space in between the bed and my bedside table.

I stood up, stretching my arms up above my head and gently twisting as loud pops and snaps reverberated from my joints.

Much better, I thought as I wandered off downstairs, stooping to scoop up Primrose, who was racing all over the lower floor with her skunkie zoomies.

I was slowly beginning to regain the usage of my ears once more, with me only being able to make out loud sounds at the moment being. I knew that my hearing would be restored in the ten days that Ryley had given me to take the ear drops that she had prescribed for me.

I glanced out the back door, frowning at the sight of the kids cowering off in the far corner while Peter chattered away on his phone. And then my eyes caught sight of a deer, stumbling about on dazed legs while Mittens stood guard in front of her clowder of ugly, furless kittens, her fluffy black and white fur standing up at ends. Primrose was tucked away in my motherly arms, Katie on her knees with the babies curled up into her, all wide eyed and adorably confused at the scene before them all.

My love? What just happened?

He glanced up at me and mouthed, Cathy. I nodded going over to the window in the kitchen that overlooked the front of the house from the sink.

About forty minutes later, Cathy had rolled into the driveway and she and Clark were coming up to the front door, where I met them. I showed them both to the backyard, where Clark cornered the deer, providing the kids with enough space to book it over to me and into the house. I watched as Cathy gave the deer a shot of an apparent tranquilizer and then as the deer collapsed.

Peter came in, taking to a knee to bless me with a whiskery kiss.

Sweetheart, Cathy and Clark are going to carry the deer in through the house before setting her free, he told me. I’ll build a door into the fence next to the house to help prevent this from happening next time.

Baby Jojo toddled over to her daddy, throwing her arms up as she babbled out a clear demand, leading the charge for the other babies as they sought out love from the Ratajczyk family patriarch.

Peter manfully scooped up all the babies- Baby Tommy, Baby Kit, Baby Mattie, Baby Teddy, Baby Jojo and Baby Noah- settling them all across the vast landscape of his burly chest. He then gently moved me off to the side as Cathy and Clark entered the house, carefully carrying the deer over his shoulders. Mittens trailed in after them, her fur still sticking straight up.

MEOW I imagined her saying as she paraded about, obviously pleased with herself for protecting her litter of not a kitten kittens.

Silly kitty.

I got down into my knees and began to pet her, starting at the fur in between her pointed ears and ending at the tip of her fluffy tail. Her only response was to lean into me and erupt into full out purrs that thundered throughout my core.

PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR

Good kitty, I told her as I affectionately tickled that spot in between her ears and being rewarded by Mittens leaning deeper into my hand and shutting her eyes. You protected your kittens. You are a good kitty.

MEOW And with that, Mittens rolled onto her back, guiding my hand down to her belly with a demanding glare. I gave in and began to pet her tummy and being rewarded with a thundering purr.

PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUR

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 590, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1140

Poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke

My eyes fluttered open, the silence weird for me to experience as a hearing individual, where I saw Baby Tommy poking at my nose, his little mouth moving as he babbled away quietly.

Poke poke poke poke poke poke poke poke

“Baby Tommy, my ears are broken,” I told him in a quiet voice. “I cannot hear right now. You’ll need to wake up daddy if you want to talk to me.”

Baby Tommy grinned at me, leaning across to plant a sweet baby kiss onto my mommy nose before promptly jumped onto his daddy, jerking him out of a sound sleep.

“I’m sorry my love,” I apologized in a sheepish meep.

It’s fine sweetheart, he sighed, rolling up into an upright position, manhandling our son to sit in his lap. How are you doing today?

I snapped my fingers next to my ears, shaking my head in answer when I didn’t hear anything.                                          

Other than that, you’re okay? He was wearing a face of utter concern as Baby Tommy covered himself in his daddy’s sleep tangled locks, clearly in the mood to be an adorable goofball.

I think so, I answered him, cooing as he cupped the side of my jaw in his enormous hand and pressed our foreheads together. Aside from having broken ears, I am well enough.

Good girl, he praised me, looking away as the rest of the Ratajczyk family bedbugs trickled into the room. I smiled as he filled everyone in with what happened to me, Elizabeth turning to ask me what I wanted for breakfast in ASL.

I am craving those cinnamon French toast that you and Katie make, I answered, opening my arm for Katie and Baby Teddy to come in for some snuggle time with mommy.

Elizabeth flashed me a double thumbs up before taking Katie and their American Girl mini mes dollies and bounding out from the bedroom and heading back downstairs into the kitchen.

Peter got up out of bed and started to do his morning workouts, using Baby Mattie and Baby Jojo as weights as he breathed easily and hard.

I curled up with Baby Tommy, Baby Eve, Baby Noah and Baby Jojo packed in tightly to me and fell back asleep again, absolutely exhausted for whatever reason or other. Even though I was on another plain, I knew that my beefy older husband was nearby- setting up a changing station at the foot of the bed for the babies to get fresher diapers, opening the window to let in a summertime breeze, the girls charging back into the bedroom ladened down with platters of breakfast…

I woke up, sitting up and finding my soulmate serving everyone scrambled eggies, bacon, cinnamon French toast, buttered toast and sliced fruit, pressing a sweet whiskery kiss onto their heads before he reached me. Love was shining in his hazel blue eyes, his glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose as he gazed lovingly at me. He loaded my plate and presented it to me with a loving kiss to my temple.

I love you daddy.

The corners of his eyes crinkled up in response as we all began to eat our morning meal, me surrounded by silence, abet peaceful this time around. I was well aware of the babies giggling softly to themselves as Baby Tommy manfully fed his younger siblings and cousin, Elizabeth and Katie were both chit chatting about something causal and my handsome older soulmate was waiting for my attention.

“Good girl,” I read his lips as he held up a slice of toast for my lips. I only allowed him to feed me, knowing that he got off on being a caretaker in more ways than one- feeding me, dressing me, carrying me places…

Just basically being a giant beefcake.

But not just a giant beefcake-

But my giant beefcake.

I love you daddy, I told him with my eyes as he leaned in to gently pat at my lips with a napkin. I looked over and giggled at Baby Tommy copying his father with Baby Jojo. Such good, sweet babies. Baby Tommy will make a wonderful father when he grows up.

You’re telling me sweetheart, Peter commented as Baby Tommy fed apple juice from his sippy cup to his little rag dollie friend. Any girl would be lucky to call Baby Tommy hers.

And any boy out there would be lucky to call Baby Tommy his, I added, pulling back from his fork, indicating that I was now full and could not possibly eat another bite. Let’s not shove our kids into a box and refuse them to grow outside the perimeters.

He only flashed me a smile before beginning to feed himself,

Only for my sweetheart. he leaned across the way to press his lips to my temple.

A moment of silence before-

“I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE AHHHHHH”

I got it sweetheart, he promised me, chuckling at my face. I could always hear my phone’s loud screeching whenever I got a call in.

I curled up with the intentions of taking a much needed nap, my eyes fluttering open when my loving husband lightly tapped my nose.

That was Adam, he’s dropping the twins off for a few hours, he told me. I can keep them downstairs with the kids so that you can get some sleep, does that sound good?

My only response was to shut my eyes and drift off.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 589, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Okay, so a quick little question for my readers- what would little girl’s name sign be? A name sign is similar to a signature- from Google, "Name signs" in Deaf culture provide a unique, personal way to identify someone without fully spelling out their name using American Sign Language (ASL). These names often reflect the person's character and are usually devised by someone within the Deaf community. Let me know down below in the comments what you think her’s would be!

WORDS: 1249

“Black black black black number one!” Peter screamed into the microphone as he strummed his bass. “Black black black black number one!”

“We want JeeJee Chris!” someone screamed just then. “Bring out the babies!”

“The babies are at home tonight,” Peter laughed, being met by a resonating BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO from the audience. He turned to face me as I stood in the wings with an absolutely comical expression on his handsomely bearded face. “Sweetheart?”

I giggled, bouncing on the balls of my feet. For tonight’s concert, I wore a sexy LBD with long sleeves and a mock turtleneck cut bodice. I wore lace leggings, ankle booties and my trusty leather jacket. All in all, I looked like a little sex bunny, and I knew what my handsome silver daddy was going to do the very second intermission rolled around.

“I will fuck you to death,” he swore to me before flipping his long locks out from his eyes and then strutting onto the stage to kick off the concert.

I honestly couldn’t wait.

“Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh,” Peter sang as he played his bass. “Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh, Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh, Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh, Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh, Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh, Jesus Christ looks like me, Jesus Christ, oh.”

He finished the song, announcing a short fifteen minutes long intermission before leaving the stage, picking me up and rushing us both into his assigned dressing room crushing needy kisses to my face as his finger scrambled to free his impressive length. And with an elongated “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK…” he pushed himself deep within me, bypassing my crotchless tights and pantiless form as he collapsed onto a chair.

I gasped and whimpered and moaned as he guided me in a haphazard cowgirl position, the both of us determined to pull as many sweet orgasms out from each other as humanly possible for the next fifteen minutes.

~xoXox~

Over the next fifteen minutes, I found sweet orgasm nine times while my gentle manner husband cummed three times. By the time intermission was about over, the dressing room stank of sex and sweat, and I knew for a fact that everyone in the backstage area knew exactly what my handsome older husband and I had been up to.

Peter cleaned the both of us up with a loving smile on his bearded face, being careful not to overstimulate my wildly pulsing pussy lips.

“Good girl,” he purred, carrying me out and back over to my station next the wings. He settled me up on top of a castaway speaker, performing a quick check in with me by pressing our foreheads together and placing her hands on my hipbone and around the back of my neck.

I love you daddy.

“I love you sweetheart,” he murmured softly, pulling away to gift me with a whiskery kiss before leaving me to return back onstage once more.

Peter was right in the middle of Wolf Moon when it happened.

“Hey wolf moon, come cast your spell on me, hey wolf moon, come cast your spell on me,” he was singly right before an earsplitting BOOM made everything come to a screeching halt. The heavy vibration that accompanied the exploding sound made my legs fizzle as Peter removed his bass and rushed over to me.

Are you alright?

“I can’t hear anything.” It was true- I could not hear anything- I could not hear the panic of the crew working the sound equipment, nor could I hear the clatter of the security team working overtime.

Peter immediately turned to use his hands to communicate with me, asking me if I was alright.

I don’t know. What happened?

Josh came over just then, saying something to Peter. He nodded and responded before turning back to me.

One of the speakers exploded. I’m taking you to pay Ryley a visit- the fact that you cannot hear is concerning.

I could only hold my arms up in a silent request for him to carry me, which he complied to at once, whisking me off into the parking lot behind the concert venue. He settled me into the passenger seat, buckling me in and shutting my door before looping around to get into the driver’s side.

The silence was unnerving- my anxiety was at an all-time high, and I could tell that Peter was also worried as he skidded into the parking lot of Mercy Memorial. He did a slap hazard job at parking before rushing me off inside. We were taken back at once to be seen by my soulmate’s doctor niece.

Peter translated the entire way, retorting to fingerspelling for words that he did not know. Ryley took a look into both ears and very quickly declared my hearing loss as temporary. She wrote a prescription for eardrops to be taken three times a day for ten days or until I regained use of my ears once more.

It's nothing too serious, but I would advise you to go see your primary doctor if you hadn’t regained full use of your ears by the end of ten days, she told me through Peter, who’s tense shoulders had long since relaxed tremendously.

My love, can we go home now? I asked him, completely at ease using ASL to communicate with one another. I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed.

In response, he lovingly tapped my petite sized nose with a finger, a gentle smile etched across his face.

As my wife commands of me.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 588, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1322

I woke up later that night to find Isabelle blowing my husband’s meaty girth. I just slid myself underneath her and began to sleepily eat her out, the three of us moaning and grunting, much like professional porn stars.

“OH… OH… OH… OH… OH… OH… OH… OH!” squealed Isabelle, squirting gloriously into my mouth and onto my face and chest.

“JESUS FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK…” Peter howled next, his hips pistoning frantically as he gave chase to his happily ever after, stuttering as he shot his load off deep within the family nanny’s throat. He pulled out, pouncing on me as he gave his limp length two or three harsh strokes. I only positioned myself for his brutal attack, spreading my thighs and relaxing for the unavoidable assault of my handsome silver daddy’s thirteen inch dong.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH…!” I screamed once his gray curls met my red curls. Peter kissed my deeply before pulling mostly out before pushing back in again and repeating the same two motions- there was literally no in between.

Isabelle rolled over to lay on her back, her fingers going to play with her pretty pussy. She tossed her head backwards when I grabbed at her, urging her to mount me and ride my lips.

The bedroom was filled with the vulgar sounds of skin slapping on skin, erotic gasps and whimpers of pleasure and the telltale stench of pure, raw sex as the three of us fucked each other within an inch of our lives.

It all came to a blissful end when my soulmate let out a bellowed explicated before shooting his manly spunk deep with me, Isabelle letting out a loud moan before slumping into my side.

Peter nudged the both of us apart before snugging himself in between the both of us, wrapping his muscular arms around us womenfolk and smiling as we both cuddled into his side. Isabelle and I both grasped onto his manly member, quickly drifting off to sleep in the arms of the Ratajczyk family patriarch.

~xoXox~

The three of us woke up at random points during the night, in search of a quick frisk off before going back to sleep. Peter went through at least three boxes of six packs of condoms for Isabelle- at this point, his swimmers were almost nonexistent since he had his vasectomy almost a year ago. The both of us enjoyed fucking bareback and having him explode his spermless load in me got me off in so many unnamable ways, but Isabelle and Peter only felt comfortable being intimate with each other by use of condoms.

By the time morning reached us, the bedroom stenched of sex and the bedsheets were crusty and disgusting. Peter sent Isabelle and I off into the master bathroom to go get washed up while he stripped the bed and opened the window to clear out the room. The two of us women took that time to explore each other’s bodies in the bath, giggling and kissing as we brought the other to more sweet, lazy orgasms.

“Now, now, now, there girls- enough with the teasing. Get each other clean.”

Peter came in just then, going over to the vanity to grab his hairbrush and standing in front of the mirror as he looked after himself.

“Sorry daddy,” I called out lazily, gasping erotically as Isabelle made me squirt a glorious arch of clearish golden fluid. “Isabelle and I are just really horny right now- can you really blame us?”

“With that fucking impressive cock of yours!” the family nanny added in, curling herself around me to feed from my still lactating tit and lazily fingering my smarting pussy. “Can you really blame us too much?”

“No, I do suppose not,” he grumbled, looking up as Mittens sauntered into the bathroom with a certain spring in her step.

MEOW she said, sitting to lick at a paw before moseying over my way in search of some love and affection. MEOW

“What are you doing today, Isabelle?” I asked her, sighing as I gave out one last release of womanly elixir. “Also, I’m calling blueberry.”

“I have martial arts later on tonight, and I found a recipe online for saltine cracker bowls, and I want to make some homemade clam chowder to pour into that for dinner tonight,” she bubbled excitedly.

“Clam chowder… yummy yum yum…” I moaned. “That does sound scrumptious for dinner tonight!”

“Also, the girls have their day camps over at the lakes, so I’ll be chauffeuring them around for part of the day,” she continued talking as she began to gently scrub my skin clean using my bright turquoise washcloth. “I was thinking I could treat them to a sweet treat afterwards at Ye Olde Cookie Factory. They have a new red velvet sugar cookie that I’ve been dying to try out!”

But before either Peter or I could respond-

PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT

“Uh oh, incoming!” I cackled at the Ratajczyk triplets tore into the bathroom, having recently learned how to escape from their cage-like cribs. The three tiny, adorable babies loved “sneaking” into their parent’s bedroom in the wee hours of the morning for surprise snuggles.

“Dada!” screeched Baby Jojo, leading the charge up to their father, who paused in his task to scoop up the tiny trio and settle them up onto the counter. The babies were all giggling as Daisy, Jack Sparrow and Primrose began to engage in their usual early morning game of zoomie tag.

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD up the stairs and THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD back down the stairs again.

The triplets were all babbling quietly to themselves as Isabelle finished getting the both of us squeaky clean. She stood up and exited the shower, drawing my gaze to her tiny sized AA tits and smooth hairless pussy. She quickly towel dried herself before going over to snag two of the babies and bring them back over to me for an early morning feeding with mommy.

“Hello there, sweet Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy!” I cooed as they both latched on and began to suckle. I glanced over and saw Peter with Baby Jojo nestled on his burly chest, her little fingers entangled in his freshly brushed out waves. Isabelle disappeared into the master bedroom for ten minutes before returning with clothes in arm. She helped my handsomely nude husband into a pair of dark green boxers and came over to help me dress for the day in a loose fitting t-shirt dress.

“Alright now,” she hummed after the two babies had finished feeding and were now busy bopping around. “Let’s go and seize the day now, shall we?”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 587, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

I’m back! Go follow Tattooed Wings up on Instagram at @Mary_Claire_Ratajczyk_OFFICIAL. Also, I’m going to start to pump out a new chapter once a week (on Fridays)

WORDS: 1177

I giggled as I twirled in place, admiring my costume for Disney’s The Nightmare Before Christmas- A Broadway Tale. My Sally costume was simple, an oversized t-shirt dress made from scraps and pieces of different cotton fabrics. Striped socks trimmed in lace and black booties with the tiniest of heels finished the costume, my wayward curls were done up into a million and one tiny microbraids to mimic Sally’s yarn hair.

Giggle giggle giggle giggle

I smiled down at Baby Mattie, nestled in my arms for a feeding of mommy milk, fresh from the source. I was gently humming as I rocked the little man in my arms, overjoyed at the fact that the costume department had made the bodice section with adjustable cups, just perfect for milking and feeding,

Giggle giggle giggle giggle

I looked over to the side, where Baby Tommy was engaging the other babies in a game of I Spy.

Giggle giggle giggle giggle

“I si wif mesies wittle eye, someping gweenie!” Baby Tommy declared, prompting the tiny humans to scan the family dressing room. A tiny couch heaped with soft, cushy pillows and a neatly folded blankie set up onto the cushions was tucked into one corner. The babies’ play pen was set up permanently in a catty cornered, and everyone had their backpacks heaped up underneath one of the two dressing tables. The family’s clothing were folded up and neatly settled onto the couch.

Giggle giggle giggle giggle

Baby Jojo let out a screech, having identified the green thing that Baby Tommy ‘I Spied’- her father’s green tank top.

“Yay yay Baa bee Jojo!” cheered Baby Tommy happily, looking up as I resettled Baby Mattie back into the babies’ play pen, taking a moment back to rearrange myself once more.

Giggle giggle giggle giggle

“Yay yay!” I cooed, looking up as Peter appeared in the doorway, looking handsomely dashing in black and white pinstripes, his face painted to resemble a skull. He wore his long, graying locks back and out of the way in a tight manbun at the base of his skull.

All in all, my handsome silver daddy looked smoldering.

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred, his electric green eyes lighting up when I sauntered his way.

“My love,” I sighed happily, accepting his hand and then stepping into him, filling my every which senses with one Peter Thomas Ratajczyk. “Hihi.”

“Hihi there yourself, sweetheart,” he smiled at me. “Ken Anderson sent me to come find you for pictures.”

“Ah,” I said.

Today, photography was in place for social media and the souvenir program. Much of the set had been completed at this time, and everyone was having a ball of a time with the hired photographer.

“You go on up now and I can get the babies changed and dressed, alright?” he offered, leaving my kisses infected lips to kiss my knuckle, bringing it up to his lips before running off again.

When I appeared once more, I found Katie dressed as Shock the witch child, her sister wearing her costume from the end of the musical, when Sandy Clause popped into Halloweentown and met Jack Skellington’s family that he had with Sally. The Asian American girl was giggling from her place inside a claw footed bathtub, the roles of Lock the Devil child and Barrel that skeleton child being portrayed by Ken Anderson’s nephew and the man playing the mayor’s son respectively.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

Elizabeth was giggling as one of the women from makeup drew beautiful flowers onto the canvas of her head, clearly going for more of a Mexican sugar skull approach with the otherwise bald child. Little girl was here today, and she was happily bopping about, looking utterly adorable in her little pinstripe dress. Ken Anderson had wanted for the Ratajczyk kids to literally look like their parents in the final number- little girl with her long scarlet microbraids and fondness for her beloved Papa Pete, Elizabeth in her tattered rag dress and Mexican flowers on her head, and two of the tiny babies dressed up to match. Peter and I both had been extremely lucky as to always having an older member of the family to watch after the tiny, adorable babies as they did adorable little babying things in the family dressing room.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

“And throw away the keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey…” Katie was belting before a quick little “Throw away the key!” followed by giggles abounded out as the set was quickly cleared for my photo.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

I smiled as I stepped out into the quickly resurrected graveyard, my face growing wistful and dreamy as I danced about with a wilted flower in my hand. taking direction from where Ken Anderson was positioned, directly behind the photographer, calling out ideas for the scene.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

From there, more pictures were taken, including of the larger than life opening number, my intimidating husband brooding over his wants for something more, to Jack accidently discovering Christmas Town…

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

I could only smile as my family hammed it up for the camera, being both utterly adorable and also stark serious, sometimes both at the exact same moment in time.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

“I love you, Mary Claire Ratajczyk,” Peter murmured softly, gazing down at me with eyes full of worship and adoration.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

“And I love you too, Peter Thomas Ratajczyk,” I smiled up at him, marveling at this kind, incredible, fiercely protective man, who I loved and was honored to call my man and no one else’s.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

“For now and always, until our last breaths.”

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

[steele-soulmate]

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 586, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

I’m going to be taken an undisclosed break from writing Tattooed Wings. If you want to reach me, come find me on Tumblr at @steele-soulmate.

WORDS: 1156

 “Hello, hello, hello again, mama and mama’s family!” Ken Anderson greeted the family as we all trooped into the Paper News Theater, eager (as per usual) for the day of rehearsals for the new Ken Anderson musical. “How is everyone doing today?”

“Exhausted!” I told him with a smile as Peter quickly set up a collapsible play pen to dump the babies into in order to keep them all corralled and in one place. “The triplets are teething, as I’m quite sure you may have guessed already.”

The famed Broadway director only came over to affectionately pat the heads of all the tiny little babies before going straight over to chit chat with the pianist accompanist, who had just arrived moments after the Ratajczyk clan trooped in. I meanwhile, took the opportunity to fold myself onto the floor and begin to stretch, welcoming in Elizabeth and Katie as the two girls followed after their mommy.

After Ken Anderson had handed out new sheet music that he wanted us to run through that day, the cast began to bump our way through Disney’s The Nightmare Before Christmas- A Broadway Tale. And so, we all began to go over our lines and assigned songs with laughter and chatter in between.

When lunchtime rolled around, everyone found out that Ken Anderson had placed an order for at least two hundred boxes of pizzas with either pepperoni, all the meats, extreme cheese, or all the veggies toppings, at least eighty boxes of garlic bread, at least sixty boxes of chicken wings with blue cheese dressings, at least fifty boxes of parmesan zucchini sticks, wrapped meatball subs and individual sized cartons of pasta salad. For those with dietary restrictions, he had thoughtfully purchased dairy free, meat free or vegan boxes. I couldn’t help but notice that Elizabeth had requested a box of vegan prepared foods while Katie piled on all of the meats onto her plate.

“Elizabeth, you don’t like meat anymore?” I asked her in a soft voice as she came over to sit next to me.

“I’m trying to go vegan, mommy,” she explained, pulling apart her cheese pizza. “I really don’t enjoy the idea of me eating an animal that was bread to be slaughtered for human consumption.”

“Ah, okay.” This was the first time that I was hearing about this as Peter was feeding the babies each a skinny strip of cheese pizza.

“Though I’m not asking you to go out and buy vegan food for me- that stuff is expensive,” she continued to speak around bites of food. “But when I start to get an allowance, maybe I can chip into buying food and get a few vegan substitutes for me?”

“That sounds agreeable to me,” I agreed after a moment of thinking. “I do believe that there is a vegan supermarket nearby the house- we can run by there and have a look-see at what all they offer, how does that sound?”

“Hey sweetheart, I couldn’t help but overhear you,” Peter interjected, looking up from his plate, piled high with a generous amount of food. “But what do you think of the kids having their own bank accounts and cards where we can just deposit money into instead of just giving them cold, hard earned cash?”

“And teach them how to adult in their lives?” I hummed in an agreeing tone of voice. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?”

“Because even super mommies have fart days,” Elizabeth deadpanned.

Ken Anderson, who was passing by with his arms full of stand in props, dropped everything and had to sit down from laughing so hard.

“Oh Elizabeth? I hope you’re happy now,” I poked at the dragon. “You broke Ken Anderson.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, getting another strong wheeze out from the African American man.

I shot my daughter a dirty look, telling her to calm down, which she did do with a sheepish squeak.

Katie finished eating her third plate of food, standing to go grab more.“That’s enough food now, mo stór,” I clucked at her. “You are not allowed to get urpy, you hear me?”

“Yes mommy,” she agreed, collecting plates from all around her as she trotted off to the trash can to go and dump everything.

All the tiny, little babies- Baby Tommy, Baby Noah, Baby Eve, Baby Mattie, Baby Teddy and Baby Jojo- were toddling all over inside the baby play pen, looking absolutely adorable as they bopped along to the piano music and babbled softly to themselves and their little baby dollies.

“Hey, I’m sorry, but can I please leave my son with you?”

I smiled sweetly at the ensemble member, who had been wrestling with a fussy little man for much of the rehearsal day, watching as she settled the cranky little man in with the Ratajczyk babies before rejoining the run through of ‘This is Halloween’ as the opening number.

“Boys and girls of every age Wouldn't you like to see something strange? Come with us and you will see This, our town of Halloween”

“Hall-a-weenie!” yelled out Baby Tommy, cackling gleefully as someone plucked him from the play pen and everyone began to worship him as though he was the Pumpkin King of Halloweentown.

Oh Baby Tommy, I thought as I saw Peter taping the adorable event with his cell phone. You are such an icon.

Mo stór, my dear, Irish Gaelic 

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

[steele-soulmate]

[steele-soulmate]

[steele-soulmate]

Peter Steele for Playgirl Magazine 🦇

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 585, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1168

���Hihi Ryley!” I greeted my husband’s niece as she came sailing into the exam room, white doctor’s coat wrinkled and glasses sitting crooked over her nose.

“Hihi Mary Claire, Uncle Pete. So what seems to be the problem today?” She looked utterly concerned as she took in me gently pinching a still squalling Baby Teddy’s still bleeding nose.

Over an hour had passed since his nose started to gush copious amounts of blood, and after Peter had whisked the three of us- me in the back seat with my fingers clamped around his adorable little baby button nose, trying to clot up his little baby booboo. I suspected that the dry summer air had made the inside lining of his nose dry and cracking, resulting in the spontaneous nosebleed.

“And it would appear that you are right once again, Mary Claire!” Ryley said after doing a swift examination. “The only thing that I can think of to do is to cauterize the nose. I can go do that real quick and also go grab a bag of O negative blood- poor little tyke must be crabby due to the dramatic loss of blood!”

“Yes please.” Peter’s tense shoulders sagged with relief as she darted out of the exam room, returning ten minutes later with a bottle, a thick wad of cotton and other miscellaneous odds and ends.

“I couldn’t find any O negative blood, so Mary Claire, I’m going to make a line from you to Baby Teddy, does that sound like a plan?” I gave her my consent and my left arm for her to place in the line. Peter had me sit in his lap to give me a bit of height to help the flow of blood. “Poor Baby Teddy- first blood transfusion!”

Peter grunted as she stuck the needle into his arm, swaddling it with gauze before cauterizing his nose with swift, gentle fingers.

“Let’s pray that this will be his only blood transfusion,” he huffed.

Ryley had also given Baby Teddy a sedative to calm him down and knock him out for her to work on him. Within about twenty minutes, she had successfully cauterized his little baby nose and had left us, me still giving him some of my mommy blood and mommy milk. I had given Ken Anderson a call, filling him in on the recent family drama.

“Oh don’t worry about it mama! You and your cubs take the day off- I insist!”

“Okay Ken, gramacy!” I thanked him before turning back to Peter. “Ken just excused us from rehearsal today.”

“Is Ken married?” he hummed, curious as to what the famed Broadway super director’s story was.

“He was married years ago to a transgender female,” I explained in a soft voice. “She dressed like a lady, had everything done except her bottom parts. She was the love of Ken’s life, but she was killed when a drunk driver plowed into her.”

“Jesus-” he wheezed. “Poor Ken.”

“Yeah, she was just riding her bike, minding her own business,” I told him. “After she was pronounced dead and taken to the hospital, Ken received word of what had happened- and as a result, Ken had sworn celibacy to honor the only love in his life.”

Peter made a quick sign of the cross before snugging both myself and Baby Teddy in tighter to his manly chest, the tiny little man happily nuzzling at my offered nipple.

“Oh sweet Baby Teddy, I wonder if Ryley can prescribe something to help keep your little baby nose from bleeding again?” I cooed, looking up at a soft knock on the door, which turned out to be Ryley along with a colleague, a tall, slim man with dirty blond hair and tortoise framed glasses.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Marshall, I’m one of the hospital pediatrician,” he introduced himself, pulling over a chair and setting his arm cane off to the side. “Ryley had asked me to double check her findings. But I can come back in a bit if you would like me to do so.”

“Look away and give my wife some dignity,” Peter growled, taking the happily full little man from me to burp while I righted myself.

Soon enough…

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP

“That’s my boy,” he beamed, bring the little tyke in for a cuddle with daddy before handing him off to the respectful doctor for a quick little checkup.

“Hello there little man,” Dr. Marshall crooned as he gently poked at his tummy and played with his feet. “Well, it does appear that little Edward-”

“Baby Teddy,” I found myself interrupting him. “Everyone calls him Baby Teddy.”

“Oh, please do excuse me- Baby Teddy- seems to have a serious case of dried skin in his nose,” he corrected himself with a chuckle. “Ryley can write a prescription for a moisturizing nose spray- twice a day for ninety days, but you would need to see his pediatrician, as how the nose spray is a closely monitored substance.”

“Understood,” Peter said in a stiff tone of voice. “I can get in touch with his and his siblings’ pediatrician when we get home again.”

“Oh, I can give them a heads up and have them give you a call in a few days,” Ryley offered, opening his file once more. “Dr. Burns, am I right?”

“Yes, that does sound right,” I hummed, accepted him back from Dr. Marshall, his IV having been taken out and replaced with a neon green Band Aid and a sweet kiss from his cousin. “My love, can you kiss my booboo?”

“Anything for my wife.”

Gramercy, thank you, old French?

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 584, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1158

“Thank goodness today was the last day of school!” Katie bemoaned, slouching backwards into her car seat. “What are we going to do this summer, anyways?”

“The triplets’ first birthday’s on the thirteenth of September!” I reminded her in a gentle tone of voice. “So naturally, a little get together will be held for them- we will invite Daddy’s sisters and Mommy’s brothers and sister and little girl and her daddies and we will ask for donations made out to Superheroes Love Heroes.”

“And will there be smash cakies?” Katie continued to prattle on.

“I do think so, yes probably!” I answered her, removing the now full bag from my milk pump and handing it over to my daughter to be sealed. I then fitted a fresh baggie onto the milk pump before relaxing into my throne of pillows once more. Mittens was curled up to my side, purring loudly as she took a kitty nap, totally at peace as Primrose tussled with one of Daisy’s doggie toys under the bed.

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD went Jack Sparrow and Daisy, the two Ratajczyk critters playing a rather rambunctious game of tag up and down the stairs.

“Are we doing anything else this summer?” Katie asked me, her crossed legged position on the bed that I shared with my husband relaxed and happy.“You and Elizabeth will spend two weeks away at the Great Wolf Lodge summer camp,” I reminded her with a soft hum. “And you both are also signed up for a week pf day camp down at the lakes in July. And rehersals for Ken Anderson’s latest musical. Remember, mo stór?”

“Oh, right!” she brightened up, the smile on her face almost infectious. “I can’t wait!”“I would imagine so!” I removed another baggie of mommy milk from my breast pump, handing it over to Katie to seal before fitting a fresh baggie onto the machine and leaning back. “Gramercy.”“Bù kèqì, mommy!” she chirped, snugging herself into my side. “What will you and daddy and the babies do while Lizz Lizz, myself and our American Girl dollies are at camp?”

“Well-” Here, I felt my face heat up, knowing perfectly well what trouble my handsome silver daddy and I would get into, but didn’t want to shatter her sense of childlike innocence. “Your father and I both have many little projects around the house that we have both been procrastinating on. I do think that with you girls out of the house, we can dump the babies at Mr. James’ and Mr. Aaron’s house with little girl.”

“Speaking of little girl, she turns five years old this year!” Katie smacked her hands against her cheeks in a startled look. “Mommy, little girl won’t be so little anymore!”

“Yes, but no matter what- little girl will always be her mommy’s little girl!” I frowned, passing off yet another full baggie of mommy milk.

“Makes sense,” she shrugged, looking up at a muffled curse, which turned out to be Peter having his legs rammed into by Daisy, only doing doggie zoomies things.

“My love, are you alright?” I called out as he limped into our bedroom, the three tiny triplets curled up into his burly chest. “Daisy, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

The mixed breed mutt let out an apologetic whine before slinking off with her ears flattened to her head and her tail tucked in between her hind legs. The Doberman/ mastiff mix understood that she had just been naughty, and was now trying to be back in the family’s good graces again.

“You need to be careful Daisy!” I gently chided her. “Only imagine if you accidently plow into one of the babies and seriously hurt them!”

Mittens opened one eye and just said MEOW, as though saying not on my watch!

Primrose let out a skunkish chitter before volting herself from underneath the bed, skidding across the floor and then leaping onto Daisy. The mild tempered dog took a startled step backwards before quickly submitting to her newfound role to her not a puppy’s throne, laying down in the corner as she eyeballed the fluffy black and white cat, who had puffed herself up as she meandered up to the large breed dog.

MEOW

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the pissy cat started to bap the dog’s nose over and over again, hissing furiously all the while doing so.

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISS

Just at that very moment, Baby Teddy let out an extremely violent sneeze, and I noticed a tiny dribble of blood beginning to dribble out from his tiny baby nostril.

Wah… wah… wah… whimpered Baby Teddy before erupting into a sudden WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… screamed Baby Mattie, both babies screaming their heads off as Baby Jojo slept on as only an extremely sleepy little almost one year old baby could do.

“Jesus-” Peter swore, handing Baby Mattie and Baby Jojo to tend to his son’s bloody nose. “Hey hey hey there now Baby Teddy- do you have a drippy nosies?”

HIC

I looked over at the sweet baby boy, who had his nose tightly plugged by his father.

HIC

The tiny redheaded baby’s hiccups were quickly interpressed in between screams.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC

“It’s okay Baby Teddy, it’s okay,” he murmured as he bounced his son gently in his arms. “Can you please stop crying now?”

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… HIC

Mo stór, my dear, Irish Gaelic Gramercy, thank you, old French? Bù kèqì, you’re welcome, Chinese

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[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 583, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1196

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Well, it’s pneumonia. Yeah, that’s right- I have pneumonia. As Baby Tommy would say, ‘yay yay’ (not)

“Go have fun, Elizabeth!” I urged my daughter, watching with fond eyes as she skipped off to her ballet class. “Your father or I will be here to pick you up again!”

“Okay mommy!” she called out as she disappeared into her classroom, leaving me to retreat back out to where Peter and the babies were parked out in the parking lot.

“Sush an adorable child! She really does take after her mommy!”

I smiled, nodding my thanks over towards a mother waiting over in the coffee corner for her child to get out of class.

“She gets that from her father!” I confessed with a sweet giggle before scurrying out the door and over to my husband’s Doom Buggy 3.0. “Hihi my love. Hihi sweet babies.”

“Mommy, mesies wantsies nibbles?” Baby Tommy meeped out just then, kicking his little baby feet as he chewed at her hand. “Peasies?”

Peter and I both exchanged looks and her opened his mouth to answer him when-

“I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE AHHHHHH”

I took my cell phone out from my bra and answered it, “Hihi Isabelle! What’s going on?”

“Hello, is this Mary Claire Ratajczyk?”

“It is yes.” A furrow formed in my brow as a knot grew in my stomach. “Now, who are you and why are you using my daughter’s cell phone?”

Peter perked up at the worried tone in my voice, settling his hand onto my knee and letting out a soft hum.

“My name is Officer Harvery- there was an incident with an attempted burglar at your house.”

“Peter-” I whimpered, throwing my cell phone at him before tearing off into the dance studio to collect Elizabeth.

“I’m so terribly sorry, but I need to collect Elizabeth,” I announced, calling my daughter over to me, where she quickly grabbed her duffle bag and exchanged her ballet slippers for trainers before the both of us ran back out again. “My love, drive.”

Peter peeled out of the parking lot and quickly hopped onto the freeway, the tension in the air thick as Peter gripped at the steering wheel with white knuckles.

“Jesus fuck-” Peter swore at he parked catty corner to the corner, narrowly avoiding ramming into a haphazardly parked police cruiser. “Sweetheart, you go on up- Bitty and I will get the babies.”

I simply just tore inside, finding Isabelle having her hands taped up by a paramedic and Katie hugging Jing in tight to her as she cowered behind the family nanny.

“Mommy!” shouted Katie, rushing over to wrap her trembling arms tight around my waist.“Mo stór,” I murmured as I welcomed her embrace. “What happened?”

“Well you see ma’am-”

“Was I talking to you?” My voice went chilly and soft with a moment’s notice. “No? Then shut up.”

The police officer looked at me with something akin to fear as I turned to Isabelle.

“Baby Noah’s father broke in, possibly hoping to kidnap the little boy,” she told me. “I beat him up some before holding him on the floor and Katie called 9-1-1. Those martial art classes were a good investment.”

“Is there a reason as to why the security feature wasn’t on?” I asked her softly as Peter and Elizabeth both came in, my big beefy soulmate wearing the triplets on his chest and Elizabeth carrying Baby Eve on a hip and Baby Tommy and Baby Noah toddling closely behind her, Baby Tommy toting Elle in his chubby little man arm.

“I didn’t think to turn it on,” Isabelle confessed sheepishly, thanking the paramedic with a brisk nod of her head. “Besides, you and Peter were to be gone for two hours tops. I also really wanted to finish that book that I stole from your office, and I knew that I probably wouldn’t go to sleep until you all have returned.”

“I can activate the security cameras and make a copy for you,” Peter offered, handing the babies over to Isabelle and I while he and Katie both led two of the policemen into his office.

Wah… wah… wah… whimpered Baby Jojo before erupting into a sudden WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… howled Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy, the three babies screaming their heads off as the policewoman nearby jumped three feet into the air at the sudden loud commotion.

“Sorry, they’re teething!” I explained, offering Baby Mattie and Baby Jojo my curls to chew on, cooing at the two babies in my arms.

“I remember when my son was teething. The only thing that would stop his crying would be slices of frozen cucumbers. He would just chew away, happy as a little chickpea.”

“Frozen cucumber? Huh, I never heard of that hack before!” I hummed, looking up as the three mean and eleven year old girl reemerged from my husband’s office, one of the men clutching at a DVD in his hands. “My love, can you remember if we have any cucumbers in the freezer?”

“No idea sweetheart,” he answered me, his long hair tossed back and out from his hazel blue eyes in a sensible man bun. “But I also gave them a copy of Sammi’s will and custody paperwork for Baby Noah, just in case any questions come up.”

“Ah, smart thinking, my love!” I told him with another gentle hum, pressing motherly kisses to the temples of the babies in my arms. “And now, can you kindly kick everyone out of the house? I’m exhausted and really need to crash into bed now.”

“Of course sweetheart.” he intercepted the babies from me, where they immediately calmed down once up against his manly chest. “Go upstairs, take a shower, wash your hair, get changed into your jammies. I can handle this.”

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