#Hyper (Search Tag)

[theradicalscrivener]

The Book of Morgan: Arbiter of Thicc

Just in time for Spoopy Month, I bring you a new character and a new series. I have at least 1 more fic in this series to share this month, and maybe another depending on time. Each of these stories focuses around a theme I haven't experimented with as much in the past. It's a bit of an excuse to have a little bit of fun with the unusual.

Ian and Sean can't seem to agree on what "thicc" is. Maybe it's time someone helped put their debate to rest...

[Next Chapter]

                “Ok. Ok. Check this dude out. Now this is thicc!” Ian said. He leaned across the cafeteria table and held out his phone so his friends could look.

                Sean didn’t even need to look to know what Ian’s type was, but he humored his friend anyway. Sure enough, the dude in the pic was dangerously close to malnourished.

“Cindy, this is bones,” Sean said flatly.

                “What!? No way! Check out that vicious V!” Ian protested.

                “That’s not a V! Those are his hips bones!” Sean countered.

                Morgan chuckled at the two’s antics, but didn’t chime in to the conversation. The two guys barely even noticed he was there most of the time, but then again, they didn’t notice most things…

                “Why ya gotta be so down on my dudes!” Ian whined.

                “I don’t mind your dudes. I just wish you’d stop trying to pretend they have any meat on their bones!” Sean protested.

                “And you’re the arbiter of all things thicc,” Ian said sarcastically. He even dramatically rolled his eyes for extra emphasis.

                “More than you, anyway! You wouldn’t know thicc if it slapped you in the ass!” Sean countered.

                “Huh…” Morgan said to himself. Their banter gave him a fun idea…

                “What!?” the two embattled bros said in unison. Their eyes now focused intently on their quiet friend.

                “Oh. It’s nothing. I just had an interesting thought… but I think it’s best I leave you to your fun,” Morgan replied.

                With that, Morgan got up from his seat and strode towards the exit. Sean and Ian could only sit there and watch him leave with a mix of confusion and amusement. Morgan tended to be a bit cryptic. He would enter and leave a conversation whenever he wanted, but he was definitely the kind of guy that Sean and Ian loved to watch leave. Morgan was almost as skinny as the guys Ian was ogling in his photos, but Morgan had some curves to him, and his cute bubbly butt was framed nicely by his tight little shorts. As he strode off towards parts unknown, the two guys sat back and marveled at Morgan’s cute backside.

                “I don’t know what you said, but you are so getting hexed,” Ian joked.

                “Oh, please. He’s not actually a witch. That’s just a silly rumor,” Sean replied.

                “Well, he certainly doesn’t try to beat the allegations,” Ian said. He pantomimed touching a wide brim of a hat in refence to the conical hat that Morgan typically wore.

                “He’s committed to the bit,” Sean replied with a shrug.

                Morgan was a bit of an odd one. He was quiet but friendly. Sean and Ian couldn’t even recall how they had first met the guy. Morgan had just started hanging around them. He was like a stray cat that decided to adopt a pair of humans, and on the subject of cats, there seemed to be a small army of feral felines that followed Morgan around. He always seemed to have a cat either on his lap or at his heels, and it was rarely the same one. The critters just seemed to gravitate towards him which didn’t help him beat the witch allegations.

                There was a moment of silence as the two friends tried to get their minds back on track. Morgan’s abrupt exit had derailed their debate, but now that the heat had dissipated, neither one was particularly interested in picking up where they left off. Eventually, Ian broke the silence.

                “Fuuuuck… I don’t want to go to class,” Ian grumbled. 

                “Then don’t,” Sean said dismissively.

                “You know I can’t do that! I’ve missed so many that if I miss any more, I’m gonna get docked a letter grade!” Ian protested.

                “Sucks to suck,” Sean replied. He scooped the few bits of trash onto his tray and got up to throw his stuff away.

                “I’ll show show you sucking!” Ian countered a bit louder than he meant to. His outburst got a few people from nearby tables to glance their way. Ian hunched down in his seat and made himself as small as possible to try and avoid their gazes. Fortunately, most people didn’t care enough about his outburst to focus on him. Their attentions quickly went back to their own conversations.

                As Ian sat there in silence, he glanced over at his friend who was now walking across the cafeteria. Something looked off, but Ian couldn’t put his finger on it. Sean looked about the same as he always did. He wore a basic t-shirt and some shorts, but his shorts seemed to grip his thighs more than Ian expected. It must be a new pair or something. Either that, or Ian had never bothered to look as closely before. Whatever the case, it was a good look on him. Sean’s shorts now gripped his thighs making Sean’s typically average build look a bit curvier than Ian was used to.

                Sean dumped his trash in the can and then glanced back at his friend who was still sitting at the table. “You gonna come to class, or are you just gonna sit there staring at my ass?” Sean teased.

                “I wasn’t looking at your ass!” Ian protested. Once again, his outburst was louder than intended causing a few nearby parties to glance his way. Once more, Ian hunched down and tried to hide from their gazes.

                Once the peanut gallery had once more lost interest, Ian scooped up his trash and got up to follow Sean, but as he did so, he realized something strange – his shorts felt tight.

                Ian scratched his head. He wore these often, didn’t he? If anything, these were typically loose on him. The soft fabric was designed to stretch, but he had never needed them to. Today, however, they seemed to grip his ass and thighs. They even seemed to accentuate the bulge of his cock and balls making those seem bigger than he recalled.

                Ian dumped his trash and hurried after his friend. By this point, Sean had a commanding lead on him. Ian jogged to catch up, and as he did so, he was keenly aware of the jiggling in his pants. His cheeks seemed to bob with each step, and his heavy bait and tackle swayed with each step.

                Ian’s body felt weird, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It felt heavier somehow… He didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though. A familiar chime rang out through the courtyard. That was the bell! He only had five minutes to jog across campus! How much time had he wasted during lunch!

                Sean perked up upon hearing the chime and looked back over his shoulder. Ian had almost caught up to him… almost.

                “Race you to class!” Sean called back over his shoulder.

                “You-! Fucker!” Ian sputtered as he watched his pal break into a sprint. Sean had a head start! There’s no way that was fair!

                Ian followed suit and broke into a sprint as well. His eyes were transfixed on his friend as he struggled to gain ground, but even as Ian forced himself to run, his eyes kept drifting towards Sean’s lower body. Sean’s ass wiggled with each step. Had his butt always been so big? So round? So supple? Ian couldn’t recall, but as his eyes lingered on his buddy’s jiggling caboose, his own cock began to stir to life in his over-stuffed shorts.

                “Shit… I can’t pop wood here…” Ian muttered under his breath. He glanced down at himself and checked out his bulge. His semi was painfully obvious. His huge, chubbed up cock was almost as thick as his wrist and his two massive, plum-sized stones were looking positively obscene in his shorts. His shorts were stretched so taut that they were basically a second skin. The outline of his huge cock and fat nuts were so clear that he may as well not be wearing anything at all!

                Ian felt a little light-headed for a second. Since when was he that hung!? Like, he had a solid foot of fat cock when fully hard. He knew this, and yet, it didn’t seem true! It hadn’t been that big this morning… had it? But it had always been that huge.

                Ian could hear his shorts begin to strain. The stitching around his thick thighs were stretched to their breaking point. Why did he think these shorts would be a good idea! Sure, they accentuated his figure, but they were too small! His friends always teased him about his fat ass and huge cock. He should be wearing something more modest, not drawing more attention to it! It’s almost like he wanted to cause a scene!

                Ian shook the notion from his mind and focused his energy on catching up to Sean. During his moment of introspection, Sean had managed to gain even more ground. Ian was already sprinting, but he needed to push himself even harder to catch up. He needed to full on haul ass! And he had A Lot of ass to haul! He could feel his cheeks jiggling with each step.

                Ian was gasping for breath as he rounded the corner and made his way up the stairs towards the building that his class was in. His muscles ached, but he refused to show it. He needed to keep pushing. Even though sweat was pouring down his body which just made his clothes feel even tighter on his frame.

                The stairs leading to the building was the easy part. There were even more stairs once he got inside! He had to get to the third floor, and he just knew he didn’t have time to take the elevator. It didn’t help that Sean still had a commanding lead.

                Ian couldn’t help it. His gaze kept drifting towards Sean’s body. Sean looked so hot. How had he never noticed it before? Sean was definitely his type. A cute, slender build with an impressively fat ass. His lower half looked almost twice as wide as his torso! Sean’s shorts weren’t doing him any favors though… if only he would just hurry up and lose them… the stitches on Sean’s shorts were struggling even harder than Ian’s own. Ian’s shorts were soft and stretchy. They were designed to not only house but to flaunt his curves! Sean’s shorts were stiff khaki. The oversized pockets detracted from the shape of his curvy thighs!

                Still… that was a debate for another day. Ian had almost caught up to his pal. The two of them staggered up the last set of stairs and stumbled before hunching over to catch their breath.

                “I… totally beat you…” Sean gasped between breaths.

                “You… cheated…” Ian countered.

                The two spent a moment to catch their breath. They had made it across campus so fast that they went from being in danger of being late to having a few minutes to spare! They needed it, though. They were both winded and soaked with sweat.

                “I’m drenched…” Sean grumbled.

                “This was your idea…” Ian replied.

                They took another beat to catch their breath a bit more before their bitching resumed.

“This shirt is going to feel gross for the entire class,” Ian grumbled.

                “Then take it off,” Sean replied.

                “Wh- …” Ian began. What? Why? The questions swirled in his head. There wouldn’t be any problem with taking off their shirts. Even bare, their upper bodies were far less lewd than their lower halves. Their shorts did not leave anything to the imagination. They both had huge, shapely assed and thick thighs, but their hips and booties were just the tip of the iceberg. Their cocks and balls were massive!

                Ian’s shorts strained across his huge cock and balls. Each of his orbs were now closing in on the size of soccer balls. His cock was as thick as his neck. When not contained in his shorts, the beast dangled down to his shins. His cock and balls were so huge and so heavy that they weighed down his shorts to the point that the waistband now rode low on his hips leaving half his ass and the base of his fat cock exposed for all to see, and Sean was in an even worse state.

                Sean’s shorts had burst down the sides during their sprint. It was only thanks to his belt that they stayed on at all. His shorts now looked like a khaki-colored loin cloth. His huge, thick cock now lolled out his left pant leg, and his heavy nuts hung out the other.

                “Fuck it. These hurt too much,” Sean grumbled. He quickly undid his belt and ripped the tattered remnants of his shorts from his body leaving him bare-assed naked from ankles to navel.

                Ian took a moment to soak in Sean’s mostly nude form. His thick, shapely thighs highlighted his fat cock and enormous nuts. Either enormous orb was almost as huge as one of his big, bubbly butt cheeks. His sack was every bit as large and as round as his peach of a posterior.

                Sean chuckled upon seeing his friend’s expression. “Come on. It’s not like this is the first time you’re seeing it,” he teased as he pulled his shirt off, leaving him clad in nothing but his keds.

                “Right… Yeah…” Ian murmured as he soaked in his friend’s nude form some more. Was Sean always this cute? Ian couldn’t recall. It felt new, but his memories were always of Sean looking this good. His lean, toned chest and flat tummy atop a set of wide hips and a huge ass with a monster dong to boot!

                Ian awkwardly peeled his shirt off as he watched his pal stride nude into class. Ian grumbled under his breath. Why did he even bother wearing shorts? No one batted an eye when Sean strode around nude, and Ian was even bigger below the belt than Sean was! It sounded like arbitrary rules to him… Still, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hang brain just yet…

                The stitching on the thighs of Ian’s shorts popped even further. There were now large swathes of skin showing on the sides of his legs where the two halves of his shorts had pulled apart. It was a miracle that it held together at all! And yet, it didn’t seem long for this world.

                “About time. We were waiting for you,” the professor said as Ian stepped into class. He didn’t seem to mind that indecent state that Ian was in. If anything, he was a little annoyed that Ian had stood in the doorway for so long before coming in.

                The professor nodded towards one of the students and gestured for them to come forward. “Sean. Up here” he said.

                Ian began to make his way towards his seat, but before he could make it more than two steps the professor gestured for him to stay. “You stay up here, too,” the professor said.

                Ian balked. He gave the professor an incredulous look, but didn’t feel like arguing. He followed instructions and took his position beside Sean at the front of the class.

                Ian suddenly felt very exposed. His clothes were hanging on by literal threads. His colossal cock and balls were starting to spill out of his shorts. His dick was so massive that only the head of it was still in the shorts. The rest of it snaked out above his waistband and folded back in on itself like a shrink-wrapped pack of kielbasa.           

                As Ian stood there and stared out among his classmates, he caught sight of one figure in the back row that made him do a double take. Morgan looked up from his large, leather-bound tome and gave a playful wave. Was he always in this class with them? Ian couldn’t recall, but he felt like he shouldn’t be surprised to see Morgan there.

                Morgan flashed a playful smirk and gave a quick flick of his wrist. Ian instantly felt a surge through his body. The waistband of his shorts finally gave up the ghost and his huge, fat cock and balls spilled forth. His nuts hit the ground with a heavy thud. It almost hurt! It was a good thing that his nuts were so huge, otherwise hitting the floor like that may have made his gut cramp up.

                Ian felt light-headed. What was with that thought? Was he surprised that his balls were so big? They had been this large for ages. His cock, which now draped over his nuts so far that this tip rested on the floor at his feet, was also something he had had to deal with for ages. His cock and ass were so massive, that he had given up clothes ages ago. Everyone just sort of accepted it as normal. Some part of him realized that that was bizarre, but no one in class even batted an eye.

                “Ok, students. We have a special lecture today,” the professor began.

                Ian glanced over his shoulder and noticed the name of the class. Human Biology 202 – H. When he had signed up, he had thought that the H at the end was silly. Human Biology – Human? How redundant. How had he gotten it wrong? He was one of the hypers that this class focused on!

                “How did you talk me into this!” Ian hissed to his pal.

                Sean shrugged and smirked. “You know how Carlos took Spanish for a free A? It’s the same thing,” he explained.

                Ian was about to think up a retort, but before he could, the professor began his lecture. “Before us, stands two specimens of hypertrophia. An uncommon, but not unheard of medical condition. Many scientists have studied people like these to determine what it is that makes them susceptible to transformations such as this post-puberty,” the professor droned. Leave it up to an academic to make something like this sound boring.

                Ian tried to search his memories. He couldn’t remember when he had gone through his growth spurt. He had been like this at least as long as he had been in college, but that was the best he could figure.

                “I shouldn’t have to reintroduce your classmates this late in the semester, but just in case, let me do so now. To my left is Sean. You may notice that, while he is much smaller than our other subject, Ian, Sean’s penis is much too large for use in traditional intercourse,” the professor droned on.

                There were some murmurs from the class. Ian could make out bits and pieces.

                “I wish mine was that big…”

                “How can he even use it…”

                “Wouldn’t he pass out when it gets hard?”

                After the murmurs died down, the professor spoke up again. “Fortunately, nature always finds a way,” he said and gestured towards Ian.

                Sean’s cock was huge. It dangled down to his ankles, but it was maybe half the size of Ian’s own. Ian’s cock was almost as long as he was tall, and it wasn’t even hard… yet.

                “As we have discussed in previous sections, men who experience these changes tend to have much wider hips than average. This adaptation is not just for show. In fact, they can stretch even wider to take handle insertions much wider than they are. Ian here has a penis that is much too large for use. Men like him are designated the “bottom” in colloquial terms,” the professor explained.

                Ian balked at this. Was that true? It had to be. The professor was saying it, and Ian knew for a fact this lecture was all scientifically sound. Still, it sounded unreal that he could handle a cock as large as Sean’s… even if he wanted it, and he really, Really wanted it!

                Ian’s massive cock stirred to life at the mere thought of getting reamed. His head felt fuzzy. His nuts felt heavy. His ass practically begged to be bred.

                Ian snapped to attention as he felt a hand slap against his massive, jiggly ass cheek. He looked over to see Sean standing beside him with a lecherous grin on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll treat you right,” Sean teased.

                “Very well. It looks like both participants are ready for today’s demonstration,” the professor said.

                Ian had forgotten! How had he forgotten!? It was so rare to find a matched pair like them that the dean had approached them to do a demonstration! Sean was right. This was an easy A, but more than that. Ian had wanted to feel Sean’s cock inside him for ages, and this was the perfect excuse.

                Sean sidled up behind Ian and pressed his huge, fat cockhead against Ian’s quivering hole. As the huge rod slid into him, Ian stared down in awe at his own gut as it bulged outwards. Ian rubbed his hands across his bulging belly. It was hard to believe that his friend’s cock was so deep into him, and yet, his body had adjusted to accept it. This didn’t seem possible, but it felt right! Ian was so turned on that he nearly came right then and there, his massive, battering ram of a cock was rock hard in record time and shuddering in anticipation. Pre oozed from the tip of his dick, and with each expectant lurch, a spray of clear, viscous liquid was sent arcing through the air.

                Ian watched as the bulge receded. There was a split second where he felt empty inside, but before he could protest, Sean’s thick cock rammed back into him. This time, Sean thrusted deeper, causing his thick thighs to slap against Ian’s huge, pillowy but cheeks and his huge, heavy nuts to slap against Ian’s calves.

                Sean thrusted again and again. Each thrust resulted in a reverberate slap as his thighs slapped against Ian’s jiggling butt cheeks. Ian had to brace himself atop his own nuts to keep from falling over.

                Had his nuts always been so huge? He couldn’t remember, but he was glad that they were. It seemed right. They served to give him something to brace against as Sean jackhammered his ass with his own huge cock.

                Ian literally had a body built for taking cock. Not only could his gut and hole stretch to take something as huge as Sean’s impressive piece, but it felt fantastic to boot! It was as if every inch of him, body and soul, existed for the soul purpose of being bred.

                Ian couldn’t focus. His doubts and his questions faded. His eyes rolled back, and he surrendered himself to bliss. He moaned in ecstasy as his gut bulged out with each thrust of his friend’s huge cock. Ian’s own massive meat bucked and lurched in time with Sean’s thrusts, further spraying the room with pre.

                Ian’s gut began to swell. At first, he thought it was just Sean plunging his cock in, but it quickly became apparent that something else was at play. His gut didn’t fully deflate as Sean pulled back. If anything, Ian’s tummy seemed to be filling with fluid.

                Had Sean cum!? No. Clearly not. Had he done so, there would be so much more. This had to just be pre!

                Ian hugged his swelling belly. It felt so warm and so firm, like a water balloon full of hot milk. He wanted more. He needed more. Without even meaning to, Ian cried out, “More!”

                Sean smirked and chuckled. He redoubled his effort, he continued to pound his friend’s incredibly huge ass with his own prodigious rod. With each thrust, more pre flooded into Ian’s gut, but soon Sean was reaching his limit.

                “I’m gonna…” Sean moaned.

                “Don’t stop!” Ian cried.

                “I wasn’t… gonna…” Sean moaned between thrusts.

                Sean dug his heals in and rammed his cock in deep for one last plunge. He let out of a cry of bliss which was echoed by Ian as the two came in unison. Massive, thick, spurts of cum arced from Ian’s enormous cock. The spray hit the windows on the far side of the room and splattered down on the audience, coating the onlookers with spunk… all except for one, anyway.

                As the duo continued to cum and cum again, Ian’s gut grew bigger and bigger. Soon, his belly was the size of a yoga ball, and still it kept growing. Soon, his gut was even larger than his massive set of stones that he was currently propped up on! His belly was soon so large that Ian could no longer wrap his arms around it. He could no longer hug it. All he could do was lie face down atop it and nuzzle his face into the swelling mass. It felt so good! Why did it feel so good? How did it feel so good!? This shouldn’t be physically possible, and yet…

                Sean let out a sigh and staggered backwards. His steadily deflating rod pulled out of Ian’s stretched out ass with an audible plop. Jizz seeped out of Ian’s wrecked hole, and yet, despite the leakage, Ian’s gut didn’t seem to be deflating.

                “You better not of gotten me pregnant…” Ian murmured playfully.

                It was meant to be a joke, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth, than he felt a strange feeling in his head. Was it possible? He didn’t know anymore, but he was in no position to ask. Fortunately, Sean was.

                “Is that possible?” Sean asked the professor, but the professor couldn’t answer.

                As Ian lay atop his own massive nuts and swollen gut, his gaze fell upon Morgan. The guy didn’t have a drop of jizz on him despite being in the back of the room where the majority of the splash had rained down. As Ian locked eyes with Morgan, he heard Sean ask the question once more.

                “Is it possible?” Sean asked.

                Morgan shrugged and gave an iffy hand wiggle.

                There was a voice in the back of Ian’s mind. Was it Morgan? It didn’t quite sound like him. It sounded more like that inner voice that Ian had. The voice he read books in. The voice that was his but not. Maybe Morgan had done something. Maybe Morgan had gotten the ball rolling, but everything since entering the classroom had been Ian’s own doing.

                How was that possible? Had Ian changed reality? That shouldn’t be possible, but he also shouldn’t be able to take a cock the size of a punching bag, and yet here he was.

                Ian couldn’t think that hard. He could barely focus on anything other than how good he felt. The afterglow was overpowering. He just wanted to lie there and bask in the blissful feelings in his gut and ass and cock and balls. As he hovered between consciousness and a blissed-out haze, he was vaguely aware of Morgan striding up to him.

                Morgan tipped his hat back so that Ian could see the huge, playful grin on his face. “Wow. You’ve really got a knack for this. I never would have thought you’d have such a dirty mind,” he said before turning and making his way towards the exit. Morgan hugged his huge, heavy tome to his chest and hummed a happy tune as his boots splashed down in the standing pool of spunk with each skip.

[Next Chapter]

[britishsass]

It's a normal night on the Owl Express.

So why are they stopped in Subcon, of all places?

~

Welcome to Whumptober!! Here’s the first fic!! I’m super excited for this!

[rintoki]

if you don’t think that your comments in the reblogs mean anything, i just want you guys to know that i still go back and read through them even now, months after you wrote those comments.

so please reblog and leave comments, i promise it means more to the writer than you realise.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Hello, im wehaveagathering from my main blog, im kind of obsessed with your hockey poetry edits and I think your blog is great! I guess I kind of have a dumb question, where do you find the images you use for your edits? Did you say Getty in your tags?? I’ve gotten into making icons recently (and i have ideas for poetry edits hrrrghhh) but it’s hard to find high res images. Thanks for your time and I hope you have a nice day :)

first of all thank you so much 🥹 and second that’s absolutely not a dumb question!! i do pull a lot of images from getty and i’ll also download pictures from sports articles (i got a lot of the hugheses pictures from online access articles, for example), or sometimes from instagram/facebook/twitter if an account is public. freely admitting that i am not technologically advanced? inclined? in the slightest here, but the image editing software that you use and how you import/export photos with it makes a difference in the quality of them as well!

if you haven’t seen them yet, i would also recommend checking out @simmyfrobby @national-hockey-lesbian @hauntedppgpaints @tapedsleeves @starscelly and @captainbradmarchand’s blogs just off the top of my head!!! they might know more places to get high res images and also i love their work 💕🫶

[timidteratoma]

Ai art? On my dash?

Fuck off?

[yayroos]

i might be poking a bear best left to the archives of my other blog. but. it still hurts me so much that the thing i caught the most hate for across my various adventures of this fucking website was the time i, an aromantic asexual just coming to terms with what that meant for my life and future, dared to be hurt by John Watson in BBC Sherlock (which everyone still loved at the time) stating that a romantic relationship would improve Sherlock as a human being.

I got people sending me all the vile things the discourse could generate. I wasn't even primarily upset that they'd implied that Sherlock might not be aro/ace, that stung but i didn't really expect it to stick. I was upset that a character I liked and looked up to at the time was saying outright and with no wiggle room that being uninterested in romance was a fundamental flaw of someone's personhood.

I never watched another second of Sherlock after that. Never finished that show that up to then had meant so much to me. Because John said the things he said. And i went a ran to my room and made a sad and angry post on my blog all about asexuality and aromanticism and then for daring to be hurt by this i was subjected to all the violent rage tumblr could produce.

I wonder why i stayed on this god damn hellhole of a website. I really do.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

I absolutely love our flag means death and I love many of the blogs I follow, yours included, but I don't ever want to truly join the fandom. The blatant racism is abysmal and just a strong reminder how toxic and racist fandom culture is in general. The fact half the show is about the romantic lead is the monster legend has made him out to be, and they even like him, yet their bias can't make them actuve see a moc has anything but dangerous. The fact people stanning and apologizing unironically his toxic second mate who is more fascinating as a bad guy than a good guy. Who throw tantrums when people literally point out things within the show that happen but also act like people are insane and toxic for thinking racial stereotypes are bad. How can they literally watch the show and agree with the villian that a character who's been told who's cried and had panic attacks and is a dude bro that he doesn't deserve nice things actually doesn't and is as scary and mean as everyone says he is. How can you think that and still think youre in the right. This show is so fun and positive. These people are so fucking insane over a dumbass goofy workplace "check out this booty im hawking whip my balls pissing on boots" pirate sitcom. It's weird!! It's so weird!!!

honestly anon, that's probably a good call. i'm personally still having a blast because i've gathered a nice little circle of mutuals and mutual-in-laws whose takes i trust and whose ofmd content isnt fucking abysmal. but even then i still see Incredibly Shitty Takes on the regular. even if i turned anon off i'd still see shit if i went into the tags (which i rarely do) or if i just. tagged a post with the character that post is about. it's fucking wild

you're completely correct tho. the amount of Missing The Point Of The Entire Goddamn Show that goes on in this fandom so that people can woobify their white fave is fucking exhausting. i don't blame you for not wanting to get involved

[simplestoryteller]

The tags in this get sooo good and I’m reblogging cause it was a pain to find out this again and I’m not risking losing this goldmine again.

Also please continue

In the middle of a Justice League meeting, Batman feels a tug on his cape. He looks down to see a little boy who could easily pass as one of his.

"Erm," the boy starts. "I frew up."

[sh4rkfin]

some people took the time to learn the craft of drawing just to end up drawing incest…flabbergasted

[cardinal-court]

I don't know what other gen z think but personally i fucking wish other sites had ui like ao3. its so much more comprehensible. although to be fair this is the only social media i use so perhaps my website abilities are not generation standard.

I mean graphic design wise I would make some changes, but i would also make changes to just about every site i've been on so that means nothing.

we need ao3 back up for this person’s grandma specifically

[cllightning81]

Boyfriend Duties - Part Seven [OB87/OB3]

Series : Younger Sister

Summary: Ollie takes his boyfriend duties of looking after you very seriously. However, this causes you both to come clean to Lando about your relationship.

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x sister!reader

Word Count : 2.4k

Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Younger Sister Masterlist

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A/N: New Series GIF!

A few months had passed since Ollie’s first formula one race, and since he had asked you out. Summer break had passed, and it was now the Dutch Grand Prix. You hadn’t seen Ollie in person for a couple of weeks because you decided to join Lando on holiday, and Ollie had his own holidays planned. 

However, your body had planned differently, and now you were curled up in Lando’s drivers room as Ollie walked around the paddock looking for you as you missed your date with him. He ended up asking Lando where you were just making up an excuse about why he was looking for you. Pointing Ollie in the direction of his drivers room and letting Will know that Ollie was going through so that he wouldn’t be kicked out. 

When there was a knock on the door, you just looked over, mumbling that the door was unlocked. Ollie slowly opened the door a little, poking his head through. 

“Hey” He smiled still with a little frown 

“Oh Ollie. Did I miss it?” You whispered with a frown as he nodded, pushing the door open a little further and walking into the room. 

“Yeah” He responded, and you sighed 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise the time. Can I make it up to you?” You apologised, going to sit up, and he shook his head, crouching in front of you. 

“Hey no. Just lay down”  He frowned, pushing some hairs out of your face as you lay back down on the bean bag. 

“What’s wrong? Can I do anything to help?” He asked, searching your face as to a hint for what was the matter 

“I’ve got really bad cramps, and I feel really nauseous” you explained, and Ollie nodded gently, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your arm moving so that he was just sat next to you comforting you 

“Can I get you anything?” Ollie asked, tilting his head a little 

“Can you ask Jon for a heat pad?” You asked, and he nodded, getting up 

“Have you eaten recently? Drank anything?” He questioned, and you shook your head 

“Okay. I’ll be back as quick as possible” He pressed a kiss to your head before leaving the room. You sighed, curling back into the ball that you were previously in. 

Your body just knew when to cause you pain. Lando had been stressed out this weekend, and normally, when he’s stressed out you’re the one to calm him down. You and Lando were like twins. You both knew mostly everything about themselves, how to deal with each other's moods. With Lando and yourself, you could both be hyper, and that’s how you cheered Lando up. However, this weekend, you couldn’t. 

Ollie soon appeared back in your view, sitting next to you on the beanbag again. Handing you the heat pad is not saying anything just now, letting you get comfortable 

“Better?” He asked quietly, and you nodded, smiling up at him a little bit. Ollie smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Can you try to eat and drink something for me, love?” You nodded slightly, sitting up as he smiled a little 

“I just got you some chocolate and water.” He smiled, putting a straw into the water as he handed you the already opened chocolate. You took a couple of squares eating them as he scrolled through his phone, just holding the water for when you’re ready to take a drink.

Once you had finished a couple of squares of chocolate, you leaned over, taking a drink of the water through the straw as you reached for your own phone to scroll through. 

As Thursday continued, you slowly started to feel more like yourself, opting to join Ollie in his own garage where he was doing an instagram live for the Formula Two instagram. You were sat slightly off to the side but close enough that Ollie could keep a hand on your stomach after you found out that his hands were nice and warm. 

He looked over after a little while as you scrolled on tiktok with an earphone so that it wouldn’t be heard on the live. He reached for his water bottle, holding it in front of you with a small smile 

“Drink something love” He ordered quietly, and you nodded, taking the drinks bottle from his hand and taking drinks out of it, playing with the long straw of the bottle between taking drinks from it. 

Ollie soon finished up the live stream, turning to you as he caressed your stomach. You looked over to him with a small smile 

“Feeling better now?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Yeah the painkillers Jon gave me really helped and your warm hands, I guess” You smiled, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“I’m glad. How much water have you drunk?” He asked as you looked down a bit 

“I finished it” You mumbled, and he chuckled with a nod 

“Okay. Good. Like drinking out the straw better?” He questioned 

“Yeah. I don’t realise I’m drinking with them” You shrugged, looking at the time as he smiled. You looked over at the time, realising that Lando was finishing for the day soon, and you should probably get back to the Formula One paddock. 

“Let’s get you back to your brother then” Ollie smiled, helping you up. 

Back in the hotel room Lando was now babying you which you didn’t really care about at this moment in time because yet again you are the cause of his distraction even if it wasn’t the way you wanted to be. 

Lando sat in his own bed, scrolling on instagram as you sat in your own bed, sending TikTok to Ollie. 

“So there’s a video of Ollie going around today” You looked over at him with a frown 

“There is?” You quizzed 

“Calling someone love and giving them his water bottle. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” He asked. Lando had been spending a lot of time over the summer break trying to get information about you and Ollie since he found you both asleep together; however, you were harder to break than he remembered. 

Not only that, but he had recruited Charles into getting information from Ollie on the situation, but Ollie also wasn’t budging on the situation. You had both come up with a cover plan, but right now, you were definitely missing Ollie’s touch. 

“Ollie was looking after me while you had media duties because I wasn’t feeling well” You shrugged, and Lando raised an eyebrow, sitting up and turning his body towards you. 

“More information please” He hummed, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he awaited more information from yourself. 

“Well when he found me in your driver's room, I was obviously in pain. He got me some heat pads from Jon with water and some food” You shrugged

“Aww that’s really sweet. Where is he now?” Lando asked, and you shrugged a little 

“I assume in his hotel room wherever Ferrari’s put him” You replied 

“Why don’t you ask him to come over? You should know by now that I don’t care about whatever is happening between the two of you however I’m going over to Max’s for a little while later on and I like to know you’re being looked after and if he’s the one doing that then I guess I can get behind you dating a driver” You nodded slightly at Lando’s whole speech getting up and hugging him. 

“I love you” You whispered into his shoulder 

“I love you too even when you are moodier than normal” You pushed him away, laying on the bed asking Ollie if he’d want to come over 

“Ollie’s coming over” You told your brother, who nodded 

“Wanna tell me what's going on between the two of you then?” He asked, and you nodded a little bit, knowing that you should do it now before Ollie gets here but not exactly wanting to 

“We’re kinda dating” You whispered as Lando’s head shot up 

“Wait? Seriously? Since when? I need all the details please” The threw off questions, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. 

“Yes seriously. Since after his first F1 race, and that’s all the details you're getting” Lando got up giving you a hug with a smile 

“I’m happy for you even if you did have to start seeing a driver” He shrugged 

“I really like him, Lan, and to me he’s not a driver he’s just someone my age who's slightly famous” you replied, and he nodded 

“I’m setting some rules though” you groaned, rolling your eyes as Lando smiled 

“No PDA. I don’t need all of my little sisters reminding me that I’m single and that please don’t do anything in our hotel room. I’m not going into detail on that one” You rolled your eyes lying back on the bed, letting Lando go into his speech about the rules he’s setting that you would not be following. 

During his speech about the rules, there was a knock on the door, and Lando basically skipped across the room to open it. At least something had made his mental health a little better, even if it had to confess about your relationship. Ollie was standing on the other side of the door, holding a couple of bags from the shops. 

“Oliver come in” Lando almost ordered Ollie, and you rolled your eyes from the ball you were currently in on the bed. 

“Lando behave” You shook your head as you smiled over to Ollie. Ollie glanced between the two of you, unsure of what to do. You could tell by the way he was standing that he was uncomfortable, so you got up earning a glare from Lando, but you walked over to him. 

“We’ve been over this. I don’t need you throwing up” Lando muttered as you ignored him and pressed a kiss to Ollie’s lips 

“And that! We discussed that!” He whined, walking over to his bed as you giggled into Ollie’s chest when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in. 

“I brought you some stuff to make you feel a little better” Ollie whispered in your ear as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You couldn’t help but smile a little 

“All I needed was you” You hummed quietly, leading him over to your bed. You sat down against the headboard as Lando got up, causing you to look over

“Max is home now, so I’m going to go over and see him. Phone me if anything happens or if you need me” He stressed, and you nodded 

“Go have fun. We’ll be fine” You pushed, and he nodded hesitantly, walking out of the door as Ollie sat on the edge of your bed. 

“So what did you buy?” You asked Ollie, looking at the bags at his feet, causing him to smile and even get a little bit excited. 

“So I started off buying a bunch of snacks” He smiled, pulling them out of the bag and placing them on the bed in front of you as you sat with crossed legs 

“Then some of the painkillers that Jon had, then I gave my mum a call but she didn’t really help me so I just bought some heat pads although I know you won’t use them when I’m here. I was gonna be a cute boyfriend and buy you some roses, but I know you’re allergic to flowers, so I bought you some Lego ones. I thought if you’re feeling better, we could build some Lego’s together” You smiled, eyes tearing up a little 

“Wait before I start crying at how sweet you are. Why did you phone your mum?” You asked, and he glanced down slightly embarrassed 

“I was gonna buy you some products however there was such a big choice and I was hoping that there was maybe like a universal one that people used but apparently there’s not” You leaned over pressing a kiss to his lips 

“You are so sweet, baby. I promise for next time I’ll show you” You smiled, and he nodded, reaching back into the bag 

“Now as I’ve discovered that you don’t drink enough water throughout the day I’ve bought you your own water bottle with a straw” You pouted looking over to Ollie who placed the bottle on the bed 

“And a teddy bear” He pulled out a cute little red teddy bear, placing it next to the pile of stuff on the bed already as the tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“Oh love don’t cry” Ollie chuckled, wrapping his arms around you 

“I’m sorry, but you’re so sweet” you whispered as he rubbed your back. After a moment, he moved away, setting all the snacks on the bedside table, giving you the bear, which you instinctively cuddled 

“I’m gonna give this water bottle a wash so you can use it then depending on how you feel we can either cuddle or build legos” You nodded with a small smile sitting back against the headboard. You had no idea how you deserved all this, but you were grateful that someone would go out their way to do this for you. 

When Ollie came back through, you were lying down under the covers scrolling on tiktok. He sat slightly in front of you, holding out the water bottle, which you gratefully took before taking a drink out of it. The cool water is nice. Tucking the bottle under your arm with the straw just slightly under your chin, you tapped the space behind you, and Ollie happily obliged. 

Lying down behind you with one arm over your waist and his hand spread out exactly where you had cramps earlier, it was like he was a giant hot water bottle himself. He rested his head on your shoulder, watching the videos with you. Every so often, you took a drink from the water bottle until you fell asleep. 

Once you were asleep, Ollie plugged your phone in before moving the water bottle away and returning to his original position behind you before falling asleep himself

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[lelengerine]

pairing. jeno x reader

synopsis. based on this req!

genre. not so confession au, just jeno getting his world shaken hehe, reader uses she/her prns and is implied to be female, reader is DENSE and im putting that lightly... lmk if anything was missed :D

wc. 1.4k

notes. anonie i support u fully because THIS IS SOOO HIM >< highly recommend listening to crazier by le sserafim for this one! sorry it took a while TT i was trying to see if my tags would fix but sadly that isnt the case... likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

you’ve always been jeno’s constant, his best friend, the person he shares his dumbest jokes with, the person who never fails to laugh when he falls out of the race track at mario kart, the person who knows when to cheer him up without him needing to say much. there was always an ease between you that others would envy, the kind of closeness that lets you steal fries off his plate without thinking twice or crash on his couch for hours without either of you caring. 

that’s just how your friendship was.

at least, he needs to keep reminding himself that was how it was between you two because his thoughts were beginning to steer in the opposite direction. lately he had become hyper aware of your presence, noticing the way the bridge of your nose would crinkle ever so slightly when you smile, how you completely disregard his personal space to sit beside him closely, and even your reliance on him when you can’t seem to twist the lid of a particularly stubborn jar off. it was always the subtlest of things that lingered in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. 

though, it seems like his friends were more than aware of the answer he was searching for from the way they were teasing him during one of your spontaneous meetups in his dorm.

you and jeno sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his friends. chenle and jisung, as usual, had been locked in a heated game for the past hour, their playful bickering filling the room. across from you, renjun and jaemin watch the scene unfold in their usual, quiet way, content to simply observe. you’re half-tuned into whatever conversation was floating in the air, mindlessly scrolling through your phone—with the occasional nudge to jeno’s shoulder, sharing a meme or video that made you snort on the inside, the casual, easy comfort between you both flowing naturally amidst the background noise.

haechan who was lounging lazily on the opposite end of the couch, passes jeno a look—a sly, knowing smirk that immediately puts the latter on edge. there’s always a hint of mischief behind haechan’s smile, but for some reason, it felt even more suspicious today.

“so,” haechan begins, stretching the word out, eyes never leaving jeno. he leans forward slightly, as if settling in for something big. “what’s been up with you lately, man?”

jeno raises an eyebrow, confused but wary. “what are you talking about?”

“oh, you know…” haechan waves a hand in the air, his smirk widening into something too smug for comfort. “you’ve just been acting a little… different.”

“different how?” you chime in with sudden interest. “did he start doing something weird?”

“not weird, just... off.” jaemin continues the bait haechan’s laid out, the innocent smile plastered on his lips testing jeno’s patience to not go over and close his mouth shut before it starts spewing nonsense.

“off?” jisung perks up from the floor, focus starting to shift away from the large screen in the room. “what do you mean by off?”

“oh, he’s definitely been weird for weeks now,” chenle adds, jumping into the conversation with a grin, catching onto his friends’ intentions fairly quicker than others.

jeno shifts uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t forget to shoot chenle a glare after joining the rest and their sudden urge for mischief. “i’m not weird. you guys are just being paranoid.”

“nah, you’ve definitely been jittery. more than usual.”

“yeah, i noticed it too.”

“jittery?” you ask, your confusion deepening, causing your forehead to form subtle creases. “why would he be jittery?”

before jeno can respond, chenle cheekily cuts in after pretending to ponder on his thoughts. “i don’t know, maybe something’s been distracting him.”

haechan snorts, clearly enjoying the whole spectacle a bit too much. “yeah, pretty distracted, don’t you think?”

you frown, gaze drifting towards your best friend. “is he losing sleep over video games again?”

chenle bursts into laughter, occasionally hitting jisung by the shoulder. “oh yeah, totally video games,” he teases, the sarcasm thick in his voice for anyone to pick up on. “he’s definitely been staying up all night thinking about those.”

"shut up," jeno mumbles, his ears burning as the heat creeps up his neck, trying to fend off the rising embarrassment. with every pair of eyes in the room glued to him, the pointed stares and teasing smirks are becoming impossible to ignore.

"this is so weird," you mumble, glancing between the boys. the playful tension crackles in the air, but you're completely clueless, unable to grasp what was so funny or why they were all being so persistent today.

mark, who’s been quietly observing from the kitchen, finally steps in after the conversation piques his interest. “maybe it’s a girl,” he waves the gentle suggestion in the air, and despite his tone being casual, you easily could tell he was just as in on it as the rest were.

the room falls into a brief, stunned silence. the first of the night.

you choke on your own breath, turning sharply to jeno, feeling a bit betrayed that he’d kept this from you. “jen, you have a crush and didn’t tell me anything?”

jeno’s brain goes into overdrive, panic flooding his chest from the thought of you getting the wrong idea. “no! what are you even talking about?” he sputters, flustered beyond belief. 

as if there weren’t already enough misunderstandings, haechan dramatically nods, paying no heed to jeno’s frantic denial. “oh right, he’s been losing sleep over someone. the poor guy’s probably been agonizing over it.”

jeno’s pulse races, the teasing voices of his friends blending into a chaotic blur. he couldn’t explain it, not when he doesn’t fully understand it himself, but his mind immediately thinks of you. the way his stomach twists when you’re around, how his heart picks up pace whenever you smile—that jittery feeling jaemin mentioned... it’s all starting to make sense in the worst possible way.

there’s a moment, as the others keep prodding and nudging at him, where it clicks. he’s always been comfortable around you, always enjoyed your company, but now—with their teasing pushing his thoughts into overdrive—it feels different. the way his heart seems to lurch every time your shoulder brushes his, how your laugh makes his chest bubble with a ticklish feeling he can’t explain, the way his thoughts keep drifting back to you even when you’re not around.

do i… like her?

the realization hits him like a freight train, and suddenly, all the pieces that were once scrambled come together one by one. the teasing, the jokes, the way he’s been acting lately—it all connects into one perfectly clear line. he’s fallen, and he didn’t even realize it, and now, with every single person in the room staring at him, he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet for not seeing it sooner.

“i don’t…” jeno starts, his voice low, struggling to find the right words as they stick to his throat. his gaze flickers to you, sitting there still utterly confused by the entire conversation.

“oh my god, jeno’s speechless,” jisung deadpans, eyes wide in slight surprise. “this might be the first time in history.”

“must be serious,” haechan chimes in and from what you could tell, there’s no ounce of worry in his tone. instead, the boy is grinning widely, like a cat who’s caught the canary.

jeno can’t find it in himself to respond, the load of the realization still sinking in, heavy and overwhelming. even jaemin, who’s usually more subtle, can’t help but throw in a quick, “just admit it, jeno. we all know.”

you huff, still frustrated and completely lost. “am i seriously the only one not getting what’s going on here?”

“sadly, yes.” haechan confirms with a muffled snicker from his end, leaning back into the couch, enjoying this far too much.

jeno glances at you again, feeling his chest tighten. his head is spinning, his thoughts racing. you’re oblivious to all the teasing, still in the dark about what’s really happening, and maybe that’s for the best. maybe it’s easier if you don’t know—at least, not yet.

“i… i need to get some air,” jeno announces abruptly, standing up from the couch and bolting for the door before anyone can stop him.

“...should we go after him?” you propose, biting your lip out of nervousness, not having seen jeno act this way in all the years the two of you had known each other.

“just let him be for now.” chenle pats your shoulder out of genuine consolation, “he’ll find his way back to you.”

[cleverusernameh]

i think it's very interesting how the 80% of The Electric Company (2009) is a latent memory in my brain. Like, no joke, I rewatched an episode for Jack McBrayer reasons, and seeing all of the word segments in between was like waking up a set of sleeper agents---but they're all still a little sleepy so they're a bit fuzzy on all the instructions.

And then there's the entirety of Prankster Planet, which I also saw a video of just now and it's like??? Take me back??

This song feels like a part of that 20% I don't remember, which is frankly a shame since Manny and Danny are absolutely busting it up on this song.

Also this song feels like a retrieval cue for a different song, but I do not know what it is. best I've got is "Answers" by Goldfinger (which I'm adding below for fun), but my brain is not satisfied with that answer, so if you see this, please send any similar sounding songs my way!

the electric company doesn't like you

[shibaraki]

THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI

tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending

wc: 4.2K

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.

In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.

You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.

That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.

The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.

“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.

The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.

Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.

Everybody would be there.

Tsukishima would be there.

You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.

You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?

Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.

You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.

“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.

“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.

“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”

Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.

Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.

Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.

Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”

Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.

“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”

Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.

“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.

“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.

“I read your book on the plane”.

Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”

“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.

Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.

“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.

“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.

Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.

“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”

“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”

Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.

“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.

Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”

Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.

An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.

Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.

Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.

You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.

You regret it not two minutes later.

Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.

It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.

You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.

“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.

A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.

You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.

Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.

“So, uh. How’ve you been?”

Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.

You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”

“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.

“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”

Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”

You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.

Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You don’t read Volleyworld”.

“How would you know that?”

Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.

Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.

Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’

You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.

Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.

Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?

“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.

Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.

“You cried at The Land Before Time”.

“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.

In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.

“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.

“I remember”.

Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.

“Do you remember the song that was playing?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”

There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.

You remember.

Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.

“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.

Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.

You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.

What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.

You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.

“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.

Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.

The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.

He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.

“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.

You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.

“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.

“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.

“This okay?”

In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”

“Hm?”

“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.

“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.

“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.

“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.

“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.

You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.

“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.

You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.

His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.

Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.

It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.

This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.

Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

But love doesn’t only exist in stories.

You remember that, now.

[yorshie]

Hello, fellow raccoon here 🦝 If it’s not too much trouble, could you write about sharing a bed for the first time with the Bay!verse turtles?

Ah! Another raccoon! Thank you for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this one! I went with head canon style.

Bayverse x reader, SFW other than bedshare, set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25

Tags: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou

MICHELANGELO

This sweet turtle got his nest all ready when he heard you were finally spending the night. Brought in your favorite snacks, hunted down all his extra pillows from around the Lair, and restocked his mini fridge in case you got thirsty.

So when the time finally came and you go drop your bag off in his room, there is not a free spot to be found. His bed is a mountain of pillows and blankets, the small coffee table shoved in front of his tv has everything from pizza, microwavable food, and what looks like three different flavors of cookies piled on top of it.

Not gonna lie, its a bit intimidating. You might even have faltered, if sunshine boi wasn't right behind you with your toiletry bags, happy go lucky energy rubbing off until it felt like the spotlight wasn't directly on you.

the rest of the night is spent in typical Mikey fashion, a.k.a. a game and movie marathon. His brothers occasionally wander past his open door to say hello and to see what the two of you are up to. They might have a bet running on how much Mikey smothers you and how long you'll allow it. Even Splinter is in on it, thought the old rat refrains from making an appearance so his youngest doesn't feel like he's doing something wrong. He wants to marry his sons off eventually, after all.

When you eventually get tired and it's time to delve into the towering abyss of pillows that have taken over his bed, Mikey's territorial side makes an appearance. The door gets shut and locked to avoid anyone that might think it's a good idea to pull a prank (none of his brothers would but Mikey is paranoid because he is the prankster), and he wastes no time diving in after you for some cuddles.

oh. ok, maybe there's too many pillows, because now he can't find you! He's lost his significant other! Cue a mini chase where most of his bounty ends up in the floor in his search. You are not getting out of cuddles. No amount of wiggling or hiding will save you.

the actual cuddling is quite nice. Mikey's warm and his bicep makes for an excellent pillow. He likes to lay face to face, with your head tucked under his chin, limbs entangled and churring up a storm that you knew would have his brothers wincing in second hand embarrassment if they ever heard all the turtley noises he made when it was just the two of you.

He definitely snores, though. And farts in his sleep. Fact of life, don't get mad, because we all do it sometimes, most of us just aren't a mutated turtle man with a noxious gut fueled by pizza and sour patch kids. Dutch oven him with his own farts as payback.

in the morning you'll definitely wake up first, though as soon as you start to move Mikey will be alert. Call it sixth sense, but all the turtles are hyper aware of their own personal spaces and who's in them. I hope you weren't planning on getting an early start that morning, because now that Mikey's awake he's ready to continue the movie that you getting sleepy paused the night before. While getting more cuddles and eating breakfast in bed, of course.

LEONARDO

he internally started creating lists as soon as you accepted his sleepover proposal. Panics a little and moved the date once to make sure his sheets are washed the day before. Everything in his space has to be perfectly so. If someone interupts his cleaning and prepping, they better expect to have their head bitten off. Will have a literal panic attack if you arrived early.

You, of course, notice nothing out of place when he presents his room for your inspection. Yes, you read that right. This turtle will practically sweat as he waits for your verdict on whether the nest is good enough. No, he doesn't realize what he's doing. If you pick up on it don't tell him or else he might start panicking again.

The two of you will actually not spend too much time besides sleeping in his room, most of your time will be hanging out in the main living area. This serves two purposes: as the eldest Leo wants you to get along with all his brothers, and two, the thought of his bothers coming by his room to say hi to you absolutely drives is reptile brain crazy. So you'll eat and hangout with everyone else, and try not to laugh at the subtle teasing you know your turtle is going through with the whispered jokes and laughter that seem to stop every time you turn around.

When it gets late enough and everyone starts peeling off to do their own thing, you'll have to let Leo know you are ready to go lay down. Hilarious if you think He's going to suggest it's time to head to bed to you, he's trying his hardest not to think of the words "you" and "nest - BED! he meant bed!" in the same sentence.

when you finish your nighttime routine and make your way back to Leo's room, don't be surprised to find him on a makeshift pallet on the floor. There is no way you couldn't have seen this coming, but don't worry, there's an easy fix. Simply get in his bed, close to the wall, and start shivering. Loudly. Ham it up. In no time flat you'll have a turtle sneaking up next to you to keep you warm, though at first he will be hesitant. Cuddling you in the privacy of his own room with the expectation of sleep is very different from just chilling with you.

despite Leo trying to be a gentleman during the beginning, leaving you a bit of space and trying his hardest not to crowd you, by an hour in he will be wrapped around you. As he slowly gets tipped closer and closer to the edge of sleep, the more loose he will become. And once he gives in and gets used to the cuddles, he will never want to stop.

He clicks and chirps in his sleep sometimes. You woke up thinking there was a baby bird or something in the room, only to discover the high pitched noises were coming from him, before he transitions into deeper churrs from his chest right in front of your eyes. If you keep very still and quiet he might not wake up, but he will be traumatized if he does and discovers he makes these noises

There is very little chance of you waking in the morning before Leo. This turtle gets up early, but maybe just for today he can slip back next to you, after morning training, just to feel close to you for a bit longer. When you wake up you could just spend the morning talking, he won't mind being lazy as long as it's with you

You'll most likely be the one making breakfast if the other brothers aren't up yet, as Leo is banned from making anything other than tea or using the strict guidelines Mikey placed next to the microwave. But, he is an excellent sous chef, and after you're both fed he will be quick to suggest an activity so the two of you can hang out longer. Just know he's already weighing his chances of getting you to spend the next night as well.

DONATELLO

Dee had about 50 reminders set in the days leading up to your first sleepover, and a mental list he was practically grappling with in between projects. Anytime he'd focus on what was coming up too much, the butterflies would start going haywire in his stomach and he was likely to drop whatever it is he's holding at the time

Needless to say, he was in a bit of a panic by the time you showed up. Technically speaking, logically speaking, he knew his bed and room where both clean. And he knew you liked spending time with him, so why the anxiety? Why the nerves? He's so nervous, he doesn't even realize you've arrived, moved around his habitual pacing to set your bag on his bed, and now you're simply watching him with fond curiosity.

He shrieks when he finally notices you. Practically has a heart attack and knocks over at least four stacks of meticulously arranged cds and various technological components. Eventually joins in your laughter after he's calmed down enough to see the humor in the situation.

Just this once, Donnie has cleared his timetable of various projects to focus soley on you. That isn't to say that before he's blown you off or ignored you, but by now you are well aware how hard he has to work to contain his wandering mind, al lthe little tips and tricks he uses to keep his focus on the here and now and not bouncing from idea to idea.

The two of you will not be spending too much time out in the main area. The time it takes the two of you to procure dinner is more than enough brotherly interaction for the tall turtle. Not to mention, it turns almost awkward as the other's try desperately to not make prolonged eye contact with anyone else. They learned a long time ago not to tease the brother that controls all their devices and the access to the wifi.

Once Donnie and you are comfortable back in his room, the true hang out will begin. You'll play rock-paper-scissors to pick a movie, Donnie always lets you win, but he gets to pick the music that plays in the background. If you want, he'll access his computer and set up the program to make the lights in his room dance to the beat. Curled up in his arms, it is the easiest place to fall asleep, surrounded by fluttering lights that mimic being underwater.

Donnie may not actually sleep, but he stays with you the entire night. If you wake at all it might be to the idle scratching of pen on paper as he writes, his hand moving in your hair or along your back, or to his soft breaths caught in a light doze, a soft churr rumbling in his chest. If you're also the type to burn the midnight oil, you both might stay up talking long enough that the morning slowly creeps up on you before you both pass out.

Splinter often stops by the Lab in the morning on his way to meditate, if only to wrap a blanket over his son's shoulders and move his glasses to a safe spot. It's an ingrained habit, so much so that it doesn't even register that you spent the night until he quietly opens the door. He takes on look at the two of you holding each other close, and turns away with a smile.

Dee can cook, but most likely he'll order from the diner one block above their preferred manhole cover, and the two of you will sneak out for eggs, bacon and pancakes before secreting it away in his room so you don't have to share.

RAPHAEL

If the two of you are close enough for a sleepover, Raph is going to be the calmest of his brothers about you being in his personal space. Sure, he'll clean up, make sure all his dirty clothes are in his hamper and all the drawers actually shut on his dresser, but don't expect much in the way of fanfare.

He doesn't care where you wanna hang out in the evening, as long as you're comfortable. If you're out in the Lair proper however, get ready for some brotherly jockeying. Mikey almost can't help teasing Raph about having a guest over for the night, but the bigger brother will take it in stride as long as its only Mikey. Donnie tends to stay out of the limelight when it comes to teasing, but you better hope Leo doesn't so much as raise an eye ridge in Raph's direction. To be fair, the blue turtle is likely only drawing attention to how soft for you Raph is, but the two of them earning a trip to the Ha'shi might put a bit of a damper on the sleepover.

Leo's right though, Raph is completely soft for you. You want something to eat? He'll go get it for you without even a huff. You want popcorn for the movie? He'll bring back soda as well. You ask how much he can bench? He'll toe the line between showing off and making sure he can actually handle the weight. You neck hurts from having to crane around him to watch the movie? He'll lay on the ground and let you splay across his shell. You blink at him and sleepily ask to be carried? You're already up in his arms before you can even finish the sentence.

When it comes time to sleep, Raph will insist you take the inside of the bed, close to the wall, but he's thought ahead and gotten you your own pillow so you don't have to share with him. Yes, technically its from Mikey's room, but don't worry he disinfected it with a shit-ton of Lysol and Frebreze and washed the cover. This doesn't mean he doesn't want to cuddle, but of all the things Raph understands in his life, the very first few are the difference in size between the two of you, just how much he weighs, and how strong he is. So he'll tuck you against the wall and lay out on his stomach in one of the few positions that makes it hard for him to tip over. There's just enough room between the lip of his shell and the mattress for you to slot yourself against him, and he'll take the opportunity to slide his arm around your waist and bury his snout in your hair.

He'll hold you there throughout the night, breath slow and even. If you wake, be prepared that any movement will rouse him. He can't exactly help it, and he tries not to make you feel guilty over it, but you can always make out the green shine of his eyes peering down to make sure you are ok before he drifts back off again.

This turtle churrs sometimes in his sleep, but it's not the cute or soothing churr of contentment. No, someone parked a diesel engine in his man and is revving it like he's driving up an inclined gravel mountain road. The only way to get him to stop is to poke the thin strip of skin along his side, repeatedly, until he snorts and shifts. 50/50 chance the shifting will stop the churring. If not, you'll have to repeat the process.

In the morning, he'll dip before you wake, and come back to the room with warm pastries and whatever he's seen you drink in the morning. If you want your breakfast right away however, you might have to bribe him with turtle smooches as he tries to steal back his spot and catch up on the cuddles he's missed being a good boyfriend. Yes, he's holding you hostage, unless you want to try climbing over him. You might succeed if you make him laugh.

At some point in the day, after breakfast and whatever morning routine you keep, Raph will ask you what you want to do. If you want to go home, decompress, he'll take you home, but if you want to stay again and hang out some more you'll get to see the sweetest, softest smile break across his face.

[fanaticsnail]

Shameless: 2/3

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here

Word Count: 6,901

(Image Source)

Synopsis: Your shamelessness has gotten you in trouble with your captain, Trafalgar Law. When he sent you to your workshop, the last thing you expected was to welcome the foreign captain into your personal space. Bonding over tinkering, you learn more about a man who you reciprocates your shameless flirtations.

Notes: And just like that, part 2 is done! Sorry for the wait, but had to ensure language was perfect. First time writing for Kid split into two parts - 12,195 words (what is wrong with me).

Themes: NSFW language, flirtatious conversation, grinding against a wall, kissing, biting, licking, mentions of missing limbs, mentions of scars, shamelessness, Kid likes you, soft moments, mostly flirting, heart-pirate!reader x captain!kid, afab!reader but can be read as gn.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun

Song suggestion: What it is - Doechii

“Gah,” you scolded yourself, kicking the leg of your workbench, “I-... I am an idiot. Why am I like this?” you clapped your hands over your eyes, dragging your skin down beneath your fingertips to hide your embarrassment. You had finally found a man who was everything you were looking for, depicting your attraction to him by flirting hard with him in front of your crew. Perhaps you had come on too strong. Perhaps he found your words too vulgar, too provocative in nature to depict your incessant need for him. 

You picked up your wrench and began tightening several bolts and screws attached to your latest project, ensuring everything was ready to be examined by your captain. The heat of the office became too much for you, prompting you to unzip your boiler suit and remove your arms from the sleeves, tying them around your waist to secure them in place. Grasping your heavy, woven gloves, you tightened the straps around your forearms and scoffed at your idiocy further. 

“I can see why Law wanted to hide me away,” you uttered, picking up your arc welding torch and face shield, “I am an embarrassment to him and my crew.” You flicked on your speaker, melodies and harmonies roaring to life at high volume. You sighed, flicking down your mask and igniting the tip of your tool to begin welding metals together.

The music and sparking metal disguised the opening and closing of your workshop door, the looming figure of Eustass Kid’s shadowy approach ignited its silhouette and hid it from your masked view. You muttered beneath your mask as you whipped the tool away from your project, smothering the flame while twirling the wrench in your non-dominant hand. 

As the melody swelled, you sang along to the lyrics and augmented your voice while tightening your newly molded bolt to ensure it was secured in place. You raised your mask over your head, plonking it down while gathering your augmented goggles to ensure your work was appropriately executed. Without turning your focus from your project, you reached behind you and began tapping your desk with splayed fingertips to search for your hammer and wire brush. 

Kid watched as you expertly twirled the tools between your four covered fingers while throwing your brush in a juggling flourish to your non-dominant hand. He was left standing dumbstruck in awe at every flex of your bare back muscles, every expert touch, every hyper-focussed gaze and how your diaphragm belted the melody in perfect time and tonality. He had every intention of taking Law up on the offer of watching you work, while he used the time to taunt you with the fact he knew he could do your job better. 

As he found himself watching the rhythm you set for yourself with your expertise and precision, he was left feeling a foreign swell within his chest once again. You had been shamelessly flirting with him earlier, in such a way that initially startled and enraged him. He couldn’t believe you would risk insulting him in front of your own captain, let alone the danger that came with his own pirate crew. 

He continued to watch you work with your hands to create a masterpiece of mechanical art, both dangerous and violent in nature - his attention was captured completely. You were focussed, your hands tearing through metal and sifting through bolts with practiced precision. His eyes were truly held hostage, shamelessly raking over your body and unable to rip themselves away. You were perfect.

Would you look as focussed on him as he rammed his cock in your mouth? Or perhaps your brows would elevate and lips curl in bliss while he harshly snaps his hips against yours to chase your mutual ecstasy. Would your words only get more filthy the more he fucks you? Or would they turn into mewling gasps and keening groans as he demonstrated just how many settings his mechanical arm had. At that thought, he glanced down to his metallic limb, his index finger and thumb clenching together as he thought on it further.

Did you find his severed limb repulsive? You made no complaint while his prosthetic hand was circling your neck and caging you beneath it. In fact, you looked eager to receive such a violent touch from him. Your lust was depicted all over your face, never once breaking your eyes from seeking his own. You could have anyone you want, looking the way you do. Why him? Did you want him, or were you simply using him to satiate your own unbridled curiosity?

He was so caught up in his own unhinged and perverse thoughts, he never noticed you turning around and silently gasping in shock. You become immediately lost in the fact the man you were just fantasizing about was standing in your personal workshop, distracted by his metal arm by his side. You cautiously placed your tools down on your workbench, removing the heavy gloves from your hands, and leant your hips back against your desk. You hooked your ankles, crossing your arms over your chest and allowed yourself the luxury of examining him further.

The music continued to blast over the speakers, the song switching to the next with a slow fade and swell into its crescendoed beginning. Kid slowly drew his eyes away from his arm, startling himself by meeting with your eyes baring directly into his own. You flicked off the music with your index finger before relacing your arms within each other once again. You both fell into an awkward silence, neither of you truly knowing what to say to one another.

“Here to watch the show,” you broke the silence with the flirtatious hum of your voice, “Or to make good on your threat of a good time?” 

Kid continued to be held in perplexed silence, allowing you to study his body a little further. ‘Captain Kid,’ you repeated in your mind. This man was a skilled captain, one your own captain deemed worthy enough to form an alliance with. You would love to get to know him further, but all thoughts swirling within your mind were as filthy as back bog water. 

“They mutually exclusive?” his smirk quirked at the corner, his vibrant lip paint decorating his lips with a partially glossy sheen, “And what happened to you calling me ‘Sir’?”

“You’re in my space,” you shrugged, pouting your lips and elevating your brows, “If anything, you should be calling me ‘Sir’ in here.” 

“Ooh,” he taunted with a harsh and low growl, “Cocky in your workshop, are you?” he taunted you, his tone dripping with feigned fear. His smile only grew further up his face at your agitation rising on your features, “Apologies, Sir. Didn’t mean to interrupt your concentration, Sir.” 

You scoffed, unlacing your hands and allowing Kid to get a proper look at your exposed flesh. His breath hitched, catching completely within his throat as he allowed the swell within his chest to grow deeper. Your brow arched up, allowing yourself the same luxury of ogling his body with your eyes while gripping the counter behind you.

“Gonna stop spurting filth at me, then?” Kid whispered before he could stop the words from leaving his lip, “Or are you as provocative with every Nakama meeting with your crew?” You rolled his questions over your mind.

“I’ll grant you a partial ‘yes�� and ‘no’ to both questions,” you shrugged, hands still clutching the bench behind you for support, “I am known for my vulgarity, but I do have the ability to behave when asked nicely.” Kid hummed in response, choosing to not engage with the conversation further than that. His heavy boots wove past you, his focus now switching to your project behind you. 

“Wanna tell me ‘bout this?” he tapped the larger, steel barrel of the base of your project. You rotated your neck, feeling a click relieve itself within the rotation.

“It’s Project Battle-Surge,” you hummed, turning and walking away from your workbench, “Been at it for a little while now, and I’ve almost got him ready.”

“Him?” he furrowed his brows, sparing a small glance your way, noticing your focus was on his metal harm hanging limply by his left side, “Alright, Sunshine. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You snapped your eyes up to meet with his, watching as he bobbed his chin to shift your focus back onto his mechanical arm. 

“You’ll tell me about how it was made? Show me how it works?” You asked him, your eyes widening and smile elevating to showcase your wonderment. He chuckled at your tone, his own eyes darting over to your own mechanical project longingly.

“Show you?” he scoffed, glancing over to the project behind you, “Baby, if that thing is what I think it is: I’ll take the damn thing off for you and let you have a turn.” 

“There you go again; threatening me with a good time,” you cooed flirtatiously at him, testing his boundaries by brushing your fingertips along the flesh of his right arm from his elbow to his fingers. You removed your hand from his, placing it on your project, “I’m willing to talk to you about him. He’s forged for war: hopefully going to function as both a sentinel tool, and a suit of wearable armor. Just trying to come up with a name for him that’s not just ‘Total BS’.”

Kid’s roar of laughter ricocheted around the room, pumping your chest with the fluttering wings of butterflies and a flush to rise to swell your cheeks. After he stifled his cackle, he shook his head and cradled his head in the flesh of his palm.

“No, no. That’s perfect. ‘Total BS’,” he reached up to his shoulders, removing his weighty jacket and placing it on your workbench. His bare skin was exposed to you, the trail of scars running from his face down his neck, to his absent arm, down his chest and stomach holding you hostage, “I love it, truly. A perfect name for a perfect creation. Definitely deserves a little bit of knowledge about my arm.” He maneuvered his mechanical arm, flexing the wired muscles within and he began removing the straps holding it in place. 

“Didn’t expect to be doin’ this today. Don’t normally enjoy takin’ the damn thing off and on again,” his brow focussed, teeth clenching as he sucked in a strained breath while removing the prosthetic limb from his stumped flesh, “But I think you’ll get a kick outta it.”

For each spurt of ‘Total BS’ from you, Kid would reflect knowledge about his mechanical arm. As you powered your mechanical man on, Kid showcased how to use his arm; how he tended to it and kept it in top condition. 

As the minutes turned into hours, your buzzed rapport continued to get more and more excitable. You felt both on edge and at ease beside him, both as passionate about this particular interest as the other was. Your brilliant and enthusiastic smiles were reflected within one anothers, both allowing the giddiness to rise within you and prolong discussion about your mechanical wonders. 

All of the questions were ‘the right ones’, all of the excitement was founded in ‘the right places’. You both felt drawn into each other, leaning into each other's warmth; your bare flesh brushing with his as if you’d known him for a lifetime. As you sat with Kid’s dismembered prosthetic in your lap, fawning over the intricate designs and pieces; he was just as enamored by the large suit of armor you had skillfully created.

He snuck a few hidden and weighted glances at you, heart swelling with longing. He craved how you’d feel beneath his hand, how you’d taste on his tongue beneath his painted lips. He felt his body draw itself closer to yours in each passing moment, as a magnet collided and stuck against a metallic force. He wanted you so desperately, he could barely contain his incessant need for you. 

You stood, bending over to lift the heavy arm and place it down on your workbench - Kid’s eyes shamelessly following the plump curvature of your covered ass as you stooped. The material of your boiler suit dipped seductively with every step, Kid’s dangerous swelling growl beginning to click and crackle in his chest the longer he stared at you. You hummed thoughtfully, finally completely understanding the concept of his arm, picking up a polishing cloth and shining lacquer. 

“It looks like you haven’t taken it apart and re-welded the underbolts for a little while,” you added with a frown while poking at the bolt with your prongs, “Did you want me to take them off, clean it up a little bit,” you waved the towel, flicking it out to ensure it was clean and sanitary, “I could solder it back together for you when I’m done, if you want.” 

Kid was startled, his loud voice no longer gracing the air with its presence. Being met with his silence, you turned around to face him, cocking your head to the side as you studied his face. His expression was not easy for you to read, vacant with a small aura of violent aggression rising in his eyes. Reading it as cause for offense from one tinkerer to another, you quickly straightened your stance, holding your hands out and frantically waving them in front of you. 

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean to offend you” you attempted to suck back in your words, desperately craving to build your rapport with this tinkerer-captain you had grown to admire, “I just figured, since you’re in my workshop, I’d offer my body to be put to good use for you.” At that comment, you mentally slapped yourself for your unintentional double-meaning.  

He straightened his spine, swooping forwards and lumbering his hulking form over your smaller body, caging you beneath his powerful aura. You squeaked out a small, shocked peep when he grasped your left arm within his right palm, thumb, and large fingers. Stooping forward, he forced his forehead to forge against your own and pushed your body backwards until your bare flesh met with the cool of the metal wall. 

“You want me to put your body to good use?” he hissed out a low growl through clenched teeth, “You got it, Sunshine.” 

Without a further word, Kid surged his face forwards and claimed your parted lips with his own. There was no subtlety, no timidness, and absolutely no hesitation to be found against his lips. His body burned with violent passion and intensity, brows furrowing and sucking in a harsh inhale of sharpened breath through his pointed nose. 

His teeth bit and bruised your bottom lip, tongue pushing past your lips and dominating yours without restraint. He raked his tongue sloppily against your own, sliding it throughout every inch of your parted lips you exposed to him. You responded to his unrestrained passion by hooking your arms around his thick neck, weaving your fingers in his red hair. 

Stapling your hips with his own, you felt deliciously hopeless and caged between his body and the metallic surface of the Polar Tang’s steel walls. You tilted your head up, allowing him to claim all of you he wanted to with his lips, body, and desperately grasping hand. Angling his stumped arm against the wall, he dragged his fingers harshly down your bicep and halted at your hips. He aggressively circled his arm behind your waist and violently clamped his fingers and thumb over the bone of your hip and hoisted you effortlessly within the air.

You parted your legs and hooked them over his hips, your feet joining at the ankles to anchor your body against his. He growled against your lips, nipping harshly at the corner of your mouth and jaw; before leaving a fluttering trail of crimson lip-paint and pinching bruises down your neck to your rapidly beating pulse. You gasped as he clamped his lips, teeth and tongue over your flesh - whimpering as a particularly harsh bite found purchase against your neck, prompting your eyes to flutter shut. 

Crying out your desperate longing for him had a rumbling chuckle vibrating against your neck. Every action he surged against you had your craving for more of his unwithheld brutality, both satisfied in receiving his touch and longing for more he could give to you. He rolled his hips against your own, feeling the growing hardness produced beneath his leathery pants. 

Your thoughts became more filthy the longer you focussed on what more he was hiding away from you, prompting you to grind your covered body against his own in response. Kid groaned, rutting into your body further by pressing you into the wall to inhibit your ability to do anything other than take what he was giving to you. Opening your eyes, you glanced down at his face as he began to nip and suck at your collar bone. 

The scars reflected silver within the darkening hum of false, electrical light. His eyes were closed and brow deep in concentration as he focussed on marking you with his mouth. You followed the trail of his scar down his neck to his shoulder, mapping your way down to his absent left arm. Every part of him was beautiful to you, the lightning marks of heavy violence depicted on his flesh showcasing how much he endured in his past - and how strong he was to overcome it. 

Sensing your shift in focus, Kid halted his marking and looked up into your eyes, noticing their fixation being solely on his missing limb. He sucked in a deep, angry breath through his grimacing teeth and his brow slunk lower in agitation.

“You that bothered by a missin’ arm, Sunshine?” he growled through clenched teeth, your eyes immediately snapping over to meet with his own, “And here I thought you liked me.” Your pupils were blown with lust, lips parted and panting and cheeks flushed with a rising warm heat. 

Without hesitation, you slowly revealed your tongue to him and used the pointed tip to lick a long stripe up his scarred flesh. Refusing to tear your eyes away from his, you swirl your tongue against his skin and map the scar with your mouth in open and passionate kisses. Once making your way up his bicep and neck, you pressed a chaste and playful kiss against his scarred cheek quickly with a smile.

“Not at all disturbed,” you chirped happily with a flutter of your half-hooded eyelashes, “I like you,” you angled your head, brushing the tip of your nose with his own, “And I am prepared to show you how much I admire every inch of you you’re willing to share with me.” Eustass Kid gulped a dry swallow of air in an attempt to return the saliva to his mouth. 

“F-Fuck,” Kid gasped, awestruck by your promiscuity and provocation alongside your cheerful disposition. You giggled at him, pressing another hasty kiss against his scarred cheek, trailing a flutter of your lips over his injured eye and back down his face again to the corner of his lips. 

“If we start this,” he began, gaining your attention back on him, “You’ll tell me to stop if you can’t handle it, won’t ya?” he whispered against your lips, anchoring his hips against yours to pin you in place while retracting his hand from your waist to caress your cheek. He bore his intense auburn eyes into yours, angrily growling, “Answer me.”

Your eyes widened, lips falling apart in shock. Pulling your face away from his, you unwove your fingers from his hair and secured them against his shoulders, leaning your face and nuzzling it into his calloused palm. 

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered against his palm, pressing a gentle kiss against the warm center of his hand, “But understand this,” you cautioned him, eyes turning serious as you met with his own, “There’s a lot I can take before I’d ever dream of telling you to stop.”

Eustass Kid groaned at your words, hunching forward to sink his teeth once more against your clavicle. He knit his fingers against the base of your hair, tugging it back to expose more of your flesh while rutting his hips against yours. You mewled for him, taking each violent act of unbridled passion as it came from the hulking figure between your thighs. Each cruel bite, lick, suck and kiss burnt heavenly against your skin; pumping your blood to elevate your pulse with every ministration from Kid. 

As he licked a dangerous and intentional stripe along the crevice of your cleavage, tracing the curvature of your breasts with the tip of his tongue; the speakers roared to life with Trafalgar Law’s bored voice depicting orders through the powered system.

“All crews and captains return to the top deck. We’ve docked, mealtime set and are waiting. Come and get it.” 

Both you and Kid groaned in frustrated unison, feeling as pent up in lust as one another. You hooked your arms over his shoulders, pulling him desperately closer to your body while pressing heated kisses against his temple and hairline. He panted, enjoying each moment he spent within your arms and between your legs.

Whether he was ready to admit it or not, Eustass Kid had not experienced such a willing and enthusiastic lover to welcome him between their parted thighs in such a long time. The way your chest heaved with panted breath, your lips hungrily seeking out more of his skin, while your fingernails raked down his exposed flesh had his breath hitching and blood rushing to every crevice of his body. He was reveling in each moment you granted him - every worshipful touch, and every kiss you peppered him with. 

He could not comprehend how someone so intelligent, someone so skilled with their craft, clung to him with such lustful passion. If given enough time, he could truly see himself partnered with such a person as you. A fellow tinkerer; a person as nasty as he was with vulgar language and promiscuous expression. 

“We gotta stop, Sunshine,” Kid growled into your jawline, pressing his lips to vibrate against your jugular, “C’mon, your captain’s given’ ya orders.” 

“And here you were offering me an out, Sir,” you gasped, tracing his cheek with your parted lips and playfully nipping at his cheek with your teeth, “Do you want to stop?”  

He groaned again in frustration at your words, eyes rolling back in his skull while he attempted to harbor his restraint. He pressed a dangerous roll of his hips against your own, testing both his and your willingness to part from one another. As you mewled a cry of his name, he truly realized he was the one that needed to break off this encounter with you, in favor of maintaining his Nakama with the two crews. 

“Are you that shameless you’ll make me be the one to call off this little tryst to bring you to dinner?” He growled, tugging on your hair to withdraw your lips from their lustful attack on his painted skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped out, grinding your hips down onto his hardening cock beneath his tight pants. He groaned both in frustration at your admission, alongside the fact he truly did not want to part from his place between your legs to attend something as boring as a formal dinner. 

“Fucking hell, Sunshine,” he cursed at you, biting at the flesh of your neck while grinding his hips up into yours, “At this rate, I’d take you to dinner just to fuck you on the dining table in front of everyone.”

“Please,” your begging tone cried for him. His eyes widened in shock, tearing his face away from your skin to glare at you. He was perplexed, unsure if you were truly begging for him here and now, or if you wanted him to claim you in front of the three crews engaging together. 

“Are you that shameless? You’d let me claim you in public like that?” he groaned into you, his grimace splitting his face in a puzzled expression.

“Honey,” you spoke, your voice cutting through the air like a guillotine with its precise clarity, “I’d likely tell Bepo to run first, but my crew already knows how much of a freak I am,” you surged forward, a playful nip pressed against the tip of his nose, “It’s your crew I’d worry about. Also, the Straw-Hats,” you confessed, pressing a trail of kisses against his temple, cheek and corner of his lips, “But I have demonstrated my incessant shamelessness to them in the past.”

Eustass Kid saw red. He, immediately, felt a surge of need to understand exactly what you had showcased to the Straw-Hat crew prior. If it was the flirty chef, that was fine by him - that blond flirts with everything that moves. He had even witnessed him flirt with a feminine-shaped tree in encounters past. If it was the green-haired swordsman who felt your touch, experienced your lips against his own - that was something else entirely. 

“Who,” his gruff growl through clenched teeth hissed at you. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the ignition in dangerous passion within the taut flex of his muscular shoulders. After taking a moment to collect your swirling thoughts, too wrapped in the feeling of Kid’s scorched flesh pressing against your own, you uttered your answer to him.

“Roronoa Zoro,” you gasped, soothing your fingertips against his shoulders and holding him firmly against yourself. You felt the swell of jealousy form within Kid’s biceps, trapping you beneath them by caging you further against the wall. He thrust his body forwards, his lips colliding with the sensitive flesh of your shoulder and clamping his teeth down in a punishing brutality. 

“It was only one time,” You cried out, pain melding into pleasure at his rough bite. 

“And I’ll make you forget all about the one time when it’s my cock splitting you open,” he growled against your neck, his tongue darting out to soothe over the vicious mark he claimed against your skin, “You’ll likely forget how to walk, too. Gonna need to be carried everywhere.”

“You offering?” you managed to gasp, feeling Kid’s lips travel higher up your neck to trace the trail of lip paint and bruises back up to meet with your lips. As he continued to bruise you with his passionate and violent kisses, the powered system roared to life with another dictation from your captain.

“Once again: All crew and captains are required above deck for meal time. Final warning.”

Kid’s rumbled growl vibrated your skin beneath his lips, his hips pinning you completely against the wall once more as he argued with himself whether he truly desired tearing himself away from you in this moment, or claim you completely within his arms. Should he not conclude the pleasantries with the two crews, would it truly mean the end of an alliance between the three ships?

“Dinner first,” his voice reverberated its rumble against your flesh, “fucking after.” You whined at his promising confession, squeezing his hips between the firm grip of your thighs. 

“Promises, promises,” you gasped your irritation, as you allowed him to shepherd your feet to the ground with his right arm. He groaned his own annoyance into your cheek, kneading the flesh of your waist once more within his palms.

He looked down at your body. He admired the art he had created on your flesh: marks of his trailing lip paint emphasizing every bite and kiss he had bruised against your skin. As his eyes met with yours once more, he witnessed the depiction of his future within their rotund irises. He found you incredibly beautiful, every aspect of you flawless in make. 

“By my side for dinner?” his brow cocked up at his request, his fingertips locating his heavy coat alongside his prosthetic limb. As he equipped himself with both objects, you adjusted your uniform over your shoulders and zipped up your boiler uniform.

“Your side?” you asked him, turning to face him. Your fingertips found his collar, adjusting the fabric against his throat, “You think you could pry me off your lap to simply sit beside you?” 

Although remaining stoic externally, Eustass Kid was enthusiastically screaming internally. He couldn’t believe your willingness to be by his side: A Heart-Pirate crewman showcasing their lust for a foreign pirate captain they had only just met. Although only spending a few hours together, Kid never wanted to part from you. He was already formulating bribes he could pay Law with to buy your loyalty away from him. 

As your eyes once again met with his, he realized there was truly nothing he could find, buy, or create to pry you from your crew. You were theirs, but he wanted you so desperately to be his. 

You drew your thumb up to his lips, soothing over the smeared paint in an attempt to fix its smudge to rejoin his lips instead of spilling over his lips. You bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration while joining your other hand on his face to fix his skin and hair. He chuckled at your fruitless attempt, raising his right hand to brush over your cheek in an almost loving gesture - pulling you from your concentration. 

“Don’t fuss so much,” he purred down at you, raking his index finger from your high cheek bone to the corner of your lips, “Let ‘em know.” As you were about to reciprocate your desire for him back into his face, Law’s frustrated growl cut over the speakers once more to alert you of further instruction.

“Can the tinkerer of the Heart-Pirates and the captain of the Kid-Pirates return above deck for the evening meal now.”

Both you and Kid laughed while hastily adjusting your uniform back over your shoulders, his clothes and his mechanical arm to fix once more on his own bodies. As you approached the door, you were momentarily held in perplexed shock at the extension of Kid’s right hand reaching out to collect your left within. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, desperately seeking out one more moment of your touch against his flesh. 

You smiled down at the floor, bashfully smoothing the fingers of your left hand within Kid’s right and allowing him to lead you above deck. You both hoped this meal would be as brief as it could for you to find yourselves clutching at each other’s flesh once more. 

As you approached the upper deck, you witnessed the amount of effort thrust into the air at the rambunctious dining experience provided for you. Rows of collaborative seats and dining settings were ornately decorated, shined silverware Law hid away for special occasions were set perfectly in front of each of the crewmen awaiting your presence. You sheepishly met your eyes with your captain’s, the swell of disappointed disdain present within the yellowed irises.

Apprehensively, Kid released your hand from his, he marched over to find his place amongst his own crew and the two other captains, leaving you to to fall in line with your own crewmen. Although words of spoken intentions requesting you by his side for dinner, as soon as your eyes met with the amber hue of Trafalgar Law’s abrasive agitation, you decided immediately against it. 

Sitting between Shachi and Ikkaku, opposite from Bepo and Penguin, you felt their eyes burning into your marked flesh. You chose not to speak, keeping your eyes fixed on your captain as he elevated his tankard - relaying a long winded toast to the three crews meeting. You elected to not engage with the gestures attempting to wave you away from your concentration from Ikkaku, Shachi and Penguin. You were the picture of innocence and obedience, refusing to tear your eyes away from your captain as he continued on with his speech.

Law’s eyes met with yours, briefly trailing down your face, neck and torso to follow the bites and lip-paint from the foreign captain plastered vibrantly against your skin. You smiled up at him, the picture of angelic and sinless appearance as he stuttered over his final words of the speech.

“May our three crews find balance and harmony over these upcoming weeks,” he concluded, elevating his tankard and prompting the crews to do the same, “Now let’s eat.” 

“Yes to food!” Luffy cried in glee, enthusiastically piling an assortment of meat onto his tray at the final utterance of Law’s speech. You refused to meet your crewman’s eyes, turning to Bepo and asking him to pass you the pressed, buttery, herbed potatoes; as if it was the most natural and normal thing in the world. 

After you all began gathering elements of your meal on the plate in front of you, you felt multiple eyes fixed on your body from all sides: your crewmates with their questions pushing against the walls of their lips threatening to break through like water through a dam wall. Zoro, with a wide smirk showcased on his lips and eyes narrowed in on the marks, also held unspoken commentary he desired to tease you with. Your Captain’s brimming intensity fuelling the ignition of rage beneath his features prompted your silence to remain exactly that. Silence. 

Whereas Eustass Kid, sitting beside his loyal first-mate and the other two captains, sought out your eyes to ask unspoken questions he craved the answers for. The one at the forefront of his mind was: “Do you wish to continue?”

In lieu of providing an exchange of words or gestures to those around you, you coyly flicked at your plate with the silvery fork; humming along to the melody formerly blaring from your workshop speakers. Seeking out a slice of the pressed potato in your fork, you slid it onto your fork before wrapping your lips over the crisped edges. 

You continued to hum while eating your meal, shoulders dancing in a subtle shake in approval while you chewed your food. Aside from your upbeat humming, you consumed your meal in silence while your closest friends attempted to seek out your attention with their eyes - pleading to be privy of the happenings occurring behind closed doors. 

“You’re really not going to say anything? Not even a denial of ‘nothing happened’, or a small ‘It was good’ if something did?” Ikkaku whined at you, leaning forward on the heel of her palm and pouting her lips into her skin, “After all that, nothing?” You sighed, placing down your utensils on the table and seeking out your napkin to clean your face.

“Nothing happened,” you shrugged with your lips pursing. You took a moment's pause, allowing a delightful shudder of the memory of what occurred a few moments prior. You picked up your fork and placed your utensil within your lips before removing it with a quick ‘pop’, uttering, “ And it was good,” you sarcastically reflected back to Ikkaku. She scoffed, toying with her own plate of food with her lips curling up at the corner.

“You climb him like a tree?” Shachi grunted out, mid-bite of a roasted carrot. You giggled out a string of quiet laughter while shaking your head.

“Didn’t get the chance to,” you shrugged after finishing with your laughter, “Can you pass the meat?” Penguin elevated the tray of meat, your fingers brushing against one another as he passed the tray to you. 

“Gagged, choked, and flogged?” Penguin attempted to disguise his question with a gruff cough, hiding his blush from view with the shadow of his cap. Your lips cracked into a large grin, again shaking your head at the question. 

“Thank you, Penguin,” you uttered, taking the tray and placing a few pieces of meat on your plate, “And I wish.” You passed the tray on to Bepo, who hungrily piled several pieces onto his plate before passing the empty plate onto the bench behind him. 

“Then what did you do?” Ikkaku asked, her elevated voice woven with exasperation. Zoro’s attention never left your body, only pausing to raise his sake bottle to his lips as he read your lips of every confession. 

“We talked shop,” you shrugged, your fingers grasping the tongs within the plate of fried broccolini, fishing out several pieces of the wilted vegetable and placed it on your plate, “He’s an incredibly skilled craftsman, and it was a delight to hear him speak about his passions while sharing mine.”

“Bet that’s not all he shared of yours,” Ikkaku muttered under her breath, raising her fork to her lips with a knowing smirk, “Your neck looks like an animals been at it.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed with a whimsical longing falling from your lips, swooning at the amount of marks Eustass Kid had littered your body with his passionately violent embrace. Your crewmen burst into an uproar of contagious laughter, prompting Zoro and Nami to follow suit once your hushed conversation was relayed to one another. 

After you all conclude with your meals, the conversations float to the next time you all get to sing, dance and drink with one another, before you witness Eustass Kid rising to his feet. The chef of the Straw-Hat crew had only just begun serving dessert for the three Nakama crews, but this did little to halt the departure of the captain of the Punk-Rock from his place at the table. 

Without meeting your eyes with his, you rose to your feet and placed your silverware atop your emptied dining plate and dusted off your thighs while straightening your uniform. You turned to where Trafalgar Law was sitting on the table, giving him a low bow: wordlessly questioning whether it would be permitted to be excused. Elevating your eyes while rising from your stoop, Law’s blushing cheeks and gritted teeth shook alongside his head with a curt, and swift, nod in affirmation. You took a moment to stifle the rising squeal of joy in your chest, before turning to address your ‘brothers in arms.’

“Goodnight, crew,” you turned to wink at Ikkaku before adding, “Talk to you in the morning, if I manage to find a leg to stand on.” 

As you walked over to the archway of the Polar Tang, you halted and waited for the heavy bootsteps falling behind your own. At the jangle of metal belt-chains, the weighted thump of shoes and the subtle purred growl of the captain of the Victoria Punk stalking behind you, your shoulders shuddered in anticipation. You felt the subtle pull from his metallic left arm caging your waist within its iron grip, pulling you to face him against his torso, while simultaneously leading you back to your workshop below decks. 

Both of you were buzzing with giddy lust simmering within your chests, swelling with the rise of passionate desperation for one another. You giggled, reaching down to touch the cool metal claiming your waist within its circular grasp.

“Are you that keen on me that you couldn’t finish your dessert, Sir?” you quirked your head to the side, noticing Eustass Kid’s predatory grin penetrating your flesh beneath its searing intensity. 

“Why would I eat something artificially sweet when I can eat you?” he purred, his head waving to the side as he leant down into your ear, licking the outer shell, before uttering, “Gotta see how loud I can make you scream while I trap your pretty cunt against my face.” He lovingly reached his right hand down to claim your left, elevating it to his lips and gently brushing his painted lips over your knuckles, “You think your neck is the only place I’d be keen on licking, biting and kissing?”

Where Kid expected to be greeted with a squeak at his vulgarity, he was met with a similar amount of crass speech. Your eyes innocently triangulated between his own, fluttering down to meet with his lips before focussing back on his auburn irises.  

“You think I’d happily sit still on your face?” you sung your intentions to him with a musical tone, “Not while I’ve got a whole throbbing and hard cock in need of my attention below your pants,” you fluttered your eyes down to his belt before slowly raking your eyes up his chest to find residency on his face. 

Gauging his reaction, you continued uttering your vulgarity sweetly up at him, brushing your fingers over his jawline and trailing them down his exposed chest. Your eyes followed your fingers, gleefully swooning at the elevation of puckered flesh shuddering to life beneath your gentle touch. 

“The real question is: should I take your belt off with my fingers, or would you prefer I use my teeth, Sir?” you halted your touch, your eyes snapping back up to gaze longingly into Eustass Kid’s auburn eyes.

“T-The fuck did you just say?” Kid breathily gasped into your ear, truly being perplexed with his ill-preparation for reciprocal vulgarity. 

“You heard, Sir,” you teased him in return, lips pulled into a sultry smirk while reaching your index finger up to trace his angular jawline, “Fingers or teeth?” After taking a moment to straighten himself, Kid leant down to your face, gazing at you through half-hooded eyes and growling his response.

“Teeth.”