#echo meets the turtles

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ ΛПD ƬΉΣ ЯIVΣЯ

༊ on the most fertile moon of the year, rafayel finally claims you as his true bride and the mother of his future heirs

✯ warnings; sorta sequel to her and the sea but can be read as a standalone, rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex in a bathtub, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a nightgown), mentions of mermaid genitalia, petnames (my little conch shell, my bride, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink, handjobs, mentions of food, breathplay, breeding, mentions of previous oviposition, dirty talk, praise and degradation, language, let me know if i missed anything

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

Like how mashed kelp with prawn hearts were the perfect antidote to third degree burns, or a particularly nasty cold could be healed with sea turtle soup made from the bales found at the heart of Point Nemo’s trenches. 

Another secret? 

Male Lemurians—specifically those of the Sea God kinds like Rafayel—had a special mating ritual. 

You had no idea what you were expecting when your boyfriend called you over to his studio on a random Tuesday morning. As you had a day off from Hunter duties, you decided to drop by and visit, seeing no harm in meeting Rafayel after the innocent text he sent you.

Miss your face, Miss Bodyguard. Care to indulge me with your presence? I wanna show you something coolio lol 

You highly doubted the ‘lol’ at the end of his sentence meant anything innocent, but you had learned a long time ago to figuratively and literally go with the flow when it came to your mermaid boyfriend.

You kicked your bike to a stop by his gravel driveway, staring at the pearly domes of his studio slash home. His front door was left open and you let yourself in, trailing your eyes across the soaring, pristine white walls illuminated by the natural light coming in from Whitesand Bay. 

“Raffie?” Your voice echoes along the empty hallways.

His huge French doors were left open, the salty sea breeze tugging right at your clothes and hair, bringing a chill into the otherwise sun-warmed room. 

“In here.” 

His voice floated from the bedroom and your suspicions flared, wondering what he was up to. 

Ever since that night in the middle of the ocean when he claimed you in his Lemurian form, Rafayel was growing bolder with initiating you into the practices of his endangered people; from the unique seafood feasts he prepared for you down to the different books in a foreign language he loaned you, it seemed as if your boyfriend was eager to show you the full extent of his world and culture. 

With an open heart and an even more curious mind, you padded to his bedroom where you found the entire space open and bright, the brilliant sunlight nearly burning your retinas. You had to squint and shade yourself from the sudden glare, spotting Rafayel waving at you from his huge bathtub in the middle of the room. 

“My little conch shell. There you are.” 

You padded over to him, smiling mischievously at the sight of his slick, and bare chest. The cool, crisp bath water lapped at throat, droplets of water clinging onto the tips of his lilac bangs.

“Did you call me over just to watch you splash around?” you tease, sitting on the bench beside the tub, dipping your fingers into the cool water.

Rafayel snorted and grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the skin of his digits slightly pruned from his time spent inside the water. 

“Hardly. I wanted to ask you something… eh, more like, show you something.”

You heard a tremble of uncertainty in his tone which he tried to mask with his usual boyish bravado. Months of dating the elusive Lemurian artist gave you a deeper understanding of his personality, and you could tell behind the breezy invitation to his home, there was a deeper meaning and reason behind his need to have you here.

As if answering your silent, roaring questions, Rafayel turned his indigo gaze to the bright sky opening before the bedroom’s sunroof, the panels pushed to the sides to let in the afternoon heat. 

“Do you know what day it is today?” Rafayel hummed, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You had to scoot closer to avoid your arm from submerging in the tub, shaking your head with a teasing smile etched on your lips.

“Taco Tuesday?” you joked and he rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding!” you laughed and added breezily, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget your birthday or any anniversaries. So, why is today so special?” 

Your boyfriend pointed at the bright sky, and you had to squint to follow the direction of his finger. 

“Do you see the moon there? Looks like a thin piece of cheese?” 

Following his guidance, you noticed the pale circle in the sky; almost see-through like a wisp, close enough to touch the burning sun in the horizon. 

“Uh-huh.”

Rafayel snorted. “Well… today is a very special day for Lemurians because it’s the one time in the entire year when the moon and the sun will collide.” He gauged your reaction, the confusion on your face making him sigh deeply.

“Ugh, humans. Okay, think of it this way—do you know what controls the tides of the sea?” 

A fairly easy question. “The moon,” you retorted, furrowing your brow.

Rafayel nodded sagely, like a professor trying to prove a point. “Okay. And do you know what helps things like plants grow?” 

“The… sun?” You weren’t exactly sure where your lover was going with this, but you played along for his sake.

“Good,” he gets out of the tub and sits on the edge, and you were relieved to find him dressed in a pair of navy blue swimming shorts. Unable to tear your eyes off the water dripping down his muscular thighs, you coughed, feeling your face flush warmly as you mapped the shadows lengthening around the room; a sign of evening arriving.

“What does any of this have to do with the fact that you moved the tub from the living room to your bedroom?” 

Rafayel gently grasped your chin, lifting your face up to meet his sparkling, bright eyes.

“Remember that night when we made love on the cove in Whitesand Bay… when I asked if you were comfortable with me putting my babies in you?” 

You nodded, recalling the night like it was just yesterday. Though a week had passed since your last encounter together with him, you could still smell the sea breeze on your skin, feel the stretch of his mermaid cock almost tearing you apart inside out.

“Well, tonight is what we Lemurians dub the Fertile Moon—the one time of the year where the sun and moon orbit the closest to one another, and their energies are in sync to increase the life force of the ocean and its inhabitants. Do you get what I’m putting down, Miss Bodyguard?”

Your head was spinning, and you’re not sure if you can make out the innuendo behind his fragmented explanations. 

“No… I don’t think so. Can’t you just tell me point blank what it is you want from me?” 

You tried to scowl and sound demanding, but it came off as pouty and petulant instead. 

He grinned, barely able to hide his chuckle when he turned those mirthful, indigo eyes towards you. “What I am saying, my little muse is that tonight is the one night where every Lemurian is encouraged to breed so that… conception and a pregnancy is a guaranteed success.”

The silence after his words rang like the aftermath of a blurted crass remark. 

You blanched, eyes widening when he finally helped you put two and two together.

“Whoa, hold up—tonight is the night?”

Rafayel’s eyes twinkled, and he flickered them momentarily to your relatively flat belly. 

“Remember those eggs I put inside of you? Well, tonight’s their night to shine. I mean, not literally. You’re not going to glow inside out like a pregnant sea monkey. But, if we made love tonight, it’s a 95% success rate of my babies taking...”

He trailed off, letting you absorb this fact. You take in a deep breath, wondering if this day could get any weirder. Though it had been your idea for Rafayel to show you how mermaids bred in the first place, you couldn't help the feeling that you were biting off more than you could chew. 

Absent-mindedly, you touched your stomach, almost as if you were trying to feel the smooth, oval deposits your boyfriend had gifted to you 7 nights ago. But, you could barely detect their outline or their presence, wondering how the biological aspect of everything would work. 

“Hey,” Rafayel touched your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. “Are you alright? Tell me what’s on that pretty mind, lovely.”

“It’s just,” you struggled to speak, and had to take a few, deep breaths to keep calm. “Is this really happening? You really want me to get pregnant with your babies?” 

In response, his violet eyes softened, and Rafayel steps down from the tub, moving towards you and getting to one knee. He grasped your hands, bringing them in his damp ones and squeezed them reassuringly. “You can always say ‘no’, my little muse. I’m not forcing you to carry my eggs if you don’t want to, though I do wish with every fiber of my being that you would. Nothing would make me happier than to know the only woman I’ve ever loved will be the one to carry my heirs and the future of Lemuria inside of her.”

When he said it that way…

The idea of saving an entire civilization appealed to your naturally altruistic nature, and you couldn’t deny the allure of being the one person whom Rafayel trusted to go on this journey with. Besides, your lover would never let anything happen to you—he would be there with you every step of the way to take care of you and the babies, just like he promised before. And you know he will keep his promises till the end of time. 

You nodded. “Alright. The Fertile Moon. Half-Lemurian babies. Let’s do it.” 

Rafayel gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his voice low and gentle. 

“Are you sure? I mean, the choice to decline or accept is yours. I will be gentle, but tonight is one of the nights where I’m afraid nature vs. politeness will not be in play, my little muse.” There was a flash of warning in his eyes. You swallowed hard. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Rafayel’s grip on your hands tighten, and he exhaled a sigh. “It means I might get… rougher… and if you can bear it, I will make it the most pleasurable night of your life, sweetheart.”

You paused, considering his words. “Will you hurt me?” 

He shook his head instantly. “Never.”

“Will you bite me? Maim me?” 

Rafayel shot you a look of exasperation, shaking his head. “No and no. Absolutely nothing will pierce you… well, not too much.”

The addendum stopped you short, and you gave him a cursory look. Rafayel ups the innocent act, gazing at you with his big, indigo eyes which tug on your heartstrings. 

Eventually, you’re swayed by the look of pure hope in those wondrous orbs and you sigh. 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Sealing the deal and taking him off guard, you lean forward, kissing him fully on his shapely lips. “Let’s make some half-mermaid babies tonight.” 

The chill of the night seeped into your bare skin, the skimpy nightgown you wore barely covering your shins and arms. You had to drive back home and change, returning to Rafayel’s home with your heart in your mouth. 

A part of you considered the repercussions of such a deal—the idea of carrying to term a human baby was already daunting, but now you had to factor in the baby being half-Lemurian into the mix.

The doors swung open, as if sensing you and admitting you within the heart of his space. Once drenched in sunshine and heat, Rafayel’s home was now saturated in shades of night, the windows kept open to let in the illumination of the moon’s rays seeping into the white walls and hardstone floors. You followed a trail of roses he left for you, right to the lip of his bedroom door. Heart thudding a mile a minute, you pressed your palms flat on the intricate wood and pushed it open.

Flickering candlelight danced across the walls, shadows growing with your approach towards the bathtub situated in the middle of the room like a crown jewel. Rafayel is nowhere to be seen, but you felt his presence in this space, watching over you—waiting. 

As per his instructions, you sat at the edge of the large tub, big enough to accommodate one human and one undecidedly non-human person. The warmth of the candles gave you enough courage to lift your head and take a steadying breath.

But, that breath stuttered out into a whispery gasp at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. Rafayel’s lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, kissing up and down the delicate column of your throat. His palms spanned around your waist, dragging up and down your sides, committing your outline to his memory. 

“My bride,” he muttered huskily. “You’re here.” 

“Mhm hmm,” your voice trembled, and he could feel the fear rocking you apart. “I’m here… Are you ready?”

Rafayel doesn’t comment on the terror he hears in your tone, or how you’re shaking as if an earthquake is tearing you into two. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your temple, running his hands up and down your stomach in gentle, soothing swoops.

“Relax. It’ll be fine. I’m here and I won’t ever let you go, my bride.”

He turned you around, and you were confronted by the sight of his bare chest peeking from past a pale, purple robe, gossamer thin and clinging onto his muscular torso and arms. A smirk plays on his lips when he realized you were gawking at him, your attention a boost to his ego.

“Like what you see, Miss Bodyguard?” 

Before you could reply, he slipped his fingers in between yours, tugging you closer to the bathtub. Rafayel unties his robe, letting it fall to the ground and you take it as your cue to remove your nightgown, as well. 

Though getting naked in front of Rafayel was something you had done many, many times before, this is the first time you felt a spike of fear run up your spine. Your breathing came out in stuttering exhales, and you managed to slip the diaphanous material off your body, revealing your bare skin to his wandering eyes. The heat of his gaze was like a hot brand, and you could feel it tangibly caressing the expanse of your skin, imprinting your curves onto his artistic eye. 

“You look beautiful, my bride.” 

Rafayel gently guided you into the tub, and you shivered when your toes sank in the water, finding it pleasantly warmed. He got in after you, pulling you close to his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder. The both of you stayed like this for a little while, holding each other close. The briny scent of the ocean floating in from the wide open sunroof above gave this moment a fairylandish feel, making you think you were in the middle of some fantastical dream.

You felt his lips right on your jugular, kissing over your pulse point and shivered.

“Don’t be afraid,” his voice had taken on a deeper quality, rumbling against your chest. “I won’t hurt you. It will feel good, my bride.” 

Your eyes wandered to the sky, watching the moon burn at her brightest. Rafayel, too, took a moment to absorb the spectacular celestial sight shining from his window, his arms tightening around you.

Something about the romantic and sensual atmosphere finally got to you, and you turned around, straddling yourself on his lap. Your naked cunt bumped against his thigh, and you felt him shiver from the close proximity. 

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you hummed, leaning forward, close enough for your lips to touch, but not fully. “Raffie… I’m not afraid. As long as you’re here, I’m not scared.”

That was his cue to give into his primal, oceanic urges. Hungrily, he claimed your lips, those large hands moving to your waist to drag you flush against his body. 

His quicksilver tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring it slowly; his hands roaming across your body, caressing you with a touch full of desire and need.

“Rafayel…” 

He broke the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lower lip to his, hanging tenuously like a heart about to break. 

Your lover darted his tongue out, lapping at your bottom lip, his teeth following suit to dig into the plush flesh. He repositioned you upon his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair to tilt your face to the side so he could slot his mouth closer to yours.

This kiss under the moonlight, sensual and sweet, stole a part of your soul and refused to give it back. 

Perching you on his strong, muscular thigh, Rafayel dipped his head lower, dragging lazy kisses down your jaw, your collarbone, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples. His tongue teased them, getting them hard. You squirmed in his lap, getting wetter at his every touch. 

“Feels good, my bride?” He hummed, mouth still latched around your hard flesh and you whimpered, nodding.

Rafayel grinned at your responsiveness, hearing your whispery plea of his name passing your lips. 

His mouth was better than good—it was downright sinful and delicious. It felt like every sensation was amplified tonight, your body keyed up to receive his ministrations. 

Please, you whispered into the dim night illuminated only by candles that bounced off the whiteness of his grin. Touch me more.

“As you wish, my bride.” 

Rafayel paid special attention to your nipples, tweaking them, sucking on them, brushing his thumbs over the hard nubs. Your hips began to drag across the muscular plane of his thigh, rutting and twitching as you struggled to relieve the ache in between your legs.

“More,” you’re desperate to get closer, to feel him deeper in your body; needing to satiate the lust his touches ignited deep inside of you. 

Rafayel hummed, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he tasted your desperation, your need to get off. 

“Mhm, I know,” he mumbled in between sloppy kisses raining down your neck, taking his time to taste your skin. “I know, baby. But, we’re going to take it slow tonight, yeah?” 

Rafayel would be the death of you. His duality would never cease to render you speechless; bratty, pouty boyfriend in one breath and then suddenly, a teasing force of nature determined to get under your skin and leave you begging.

Your whine graced his heated ears, and he chuckled.

Rafayel… no… stop teasing me…

Already begging? Your lover raised his lips to the juncture of your neck, biting down softly to bring the blood up, leaving his mark there. That was quick—thought you’d hold up longer than that. 

Your indignant sounds were masked by his mouth moving back to yours, kissing your protests away.

What was it you wanted to say, my little conch shell? He teased, trailing his fingers down your thighs, igniting goosebumps on your arms. I’m a tease? I’m not giving you what you want? 

He adjusted himself in the tub, the water starting to run cool, sloshing over the edges to dampen the surrounding floor. He lifted you higher into his lap, running his warmed, slightly chapped lips down to your sternum, mapping his way down to the part of you which needed him the most.

You know, I’ve never done this with anyone… Rafayel whispered against your flushed skin, nudging you up further until your pelvis bumped his jaw. You’re always the first one I try new things with… his fingertips glide across your thighs, gently nudging them apart.

You make me feel human—make me feel alive. His words are lost in your skin as he muffled them with his kisses, leaving a trail of heat in between your thighs, leading right to your pulsing core. Rafayel can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your little, twitchy clit, waiting for his tongue or mouth to give her some attention. 

His touches are languid, caressing your knees, your shins and thighs. He moved his fingers to where you needed him the most, focusing his touch on your throbbing clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the slick bundle of nerves which seemed to pulse his name with every touch.

“Rafayel,” your moans saturated the air, a blessing to his ears.

“Mhm… yes, my little conch shell? Feels good, doesn’t it?” His indigo eyes looked at you with pure hunger like a deadly current threatening to pull you under. 

Yes, your breathy whimpers boosted his ego, drawing a smirk on his handsome face. The heat that he sets off in your body when he placed his mouth right on your inner thigh was nothing compared to the smoldering flame about to engulf you when he sucked a hickey onto your soft flesh. 

“I can smell you—you’re practically drenched,” Rafayel slurred in between nipping kisses to your thighs, determined to leave his mark wherever he went. I just want to… fuck… he trailed off.

“What?” 

Your breathless question made him laugh.

In answer to your winded curiosity, he brought his mouth closer, right to the apex of your thighs and exhaled, warm breath fanning across your folds.

“I just want to eat you whole.” 

Warmth engulfed your cunt the second he murmured those seductive words, and your head was thrown back, your moan rebounding across the room. 

You were so worked up, it was insane how you haven’t exploded yet. The taste of you saturated his tongue, dripping right onto his chin and Rafayel lapped you up like you were the water of life, drinking you down in desperate gulps. 

Those pretty indigo eyes hazed over, his long lashes obscuring his gaze into half-mast as he worked your pussy over with his mouth. Using a slender finger, Rafayel teased past the tight muscles of your entrance, sinking down to his knuckle, curling it forward in a come hither motion as your hips stuttered and bucked.

Rafayel… oh, fuck…

He grinned at the sound of your trembling moans, and stretched your perfect cunt around a second finger, applying pressure to your golden spots, determined to make you see stars. 

Without warning, you felt the girth of his thigh transforming underneath you, growing slicker, harder. Scale-like. The texture of his wrists you were grasping tightly became harder, the skin toughening and lengthening. 

Water sloshed noisily down the rim of the tub, and from the corner of your eye, you caught the flick of an iridescent tail in mid-air.

Rafayel continued to eat you out, oblivious to your wide eyes and hitched breathing, needing to feel you shatter around his fingers. Latching his lips right to your nub, he traced his name right into your sensitive clit, enjoying how your thighs were tensing and trembling, struggling to hold yourself upright. 

One large palm guided you to ride his tongue, grasping your hip and helping you glide yourself back and forth over the flat of his pink muscle. 

Your fingers curled over the edge of the wide tub, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him closer. 

Fuck, so good, your moans goad him on. So good, Rafayel. More, please… more…

He gave it to you, lapping at your swollen folds, feeling your juices stain his mouth, drip down his jaw. 

The needy twitch of your hips and the tremble in your moans spurred him on to double his speed and precision, racing to get you right to the edge. From the depths of the deep tub, you felt something hard stirring against your thigh, the thick, scaly ridge a familiar rasp as it grazed against your soft skin. 

“I’m close,” your quivering moan made his blood thump harder in his veins. “So close…” 

Your orgasm washed over you like a hot tide, nearly making you buckle and lose your footing. Luckily, Rafayel hurried to clasp his larger, merman hands around your waist, holding you upright and slowly easing you down onto his lap. Your quivering moans go straight to his cock, and he was already hard and ready when you sank into his embrace, the tip of his monster girth poking your lower belly.

Without a second thought, you reached for his length, stroking his Lemurian cock with a loose grip, feeling his entire body constrict under your touch. 

Rafayel expelled a soft groan, the back of his head thumping against the smooth marble of the bathtub’s edge. Scaly and with bumps that felt heavenly between your gummy walls, his cock was a wonder of nature that always left you speechless. Hooded indigo eyes appraised you, and his tongue briefly darted out to touch the corner of his mouth.

“You’re becoming more bold and audacious day by day.” 

Drunk from your orgasm, you managed to give him a grin. “What did you say again—the most pleasurable evening I’ve ever had?” 

Arching a brow, Rafayel snorted. “So, jacking me off is your idea of a pleasurable evening?” 

Your lips touched his ear, warm breath fanning across his skin. “What if I said yes?” 

Putty in your hands and susceptible to your every will, Rafayel had no choice but to let you have your way with him. His hips ticked, pushing his cock further up your weak grip, aching to earn more friction.

“I would say you got me there,” his voice lowered into a husky whisper. “You’re a handful, you know that?” 

“But, I’m all yours to handle.” 

His smooth and low chuckle sparked a shiver up your spine, that hazy grin and heavy lidded eyes making your stomach flip.

“Mhm, that you are, sweetheart.” 

The water rippled from the motions of his hips undulating to match your strokes, a pinch appearing on his brow. Despite having a fear of the water, you felt safe in Rafayel’s arms, letting him hold you close as you continue to pleasure him. 

“Do you want to—”

“I think we should—”

He paused, and you giggled at both your eagerness; the simultaneous need. Rafayel’s eyes twinkled with mischief, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

Without another word, your lover guided you onto his lap, gently pushing your hand away from his cock and gingerly lifting your hips. 

It started out slow first, with the head of his Lemurian cock slowly breaching you, pushing past the trembling muscle of your spasming cunt. Rafayel was conscious of not slamming into you, knowing you needed time to get used to the sensation of his longer length stretching you out. 

The sensation of his bulbous head sinking through your walls, and the feel of every ridge and bump hitting your swollen spots was enough to draw full body shivers from you. 

“Fuck,” Rafayel shivered, his eyes darkening. 

Your breath tumbled out in a shaky exhale.

Palms flat on his chest, you struggled to sink down on him, the water adding more lubrication to help ease you over his impossibly huge cock. The stretch made sweat bead across your brow and you gasped, rocking your hips forward, trying to take all of him in one go. 

You okay? His mouth on your pulse point soothed you somewhat. 

Nodding, you felt the bite of pain, your muscles protesting.

Rafayel took this chance to play with your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them; when that wasn’t enough, he decided to use his tongue and teeth to get them wet and hard, leaving your body aching for more. His thumb trailed to your clit, rubbing on it as he continued to suckle on your tits, giving them both his undivided attention. 

Your pussy twitched around him and he murmured, let go for me, sweetheart.

The effort it took for you to calm yourself down enough to take him is tremendous, and Rafayel felt a burst of love and adoration for how much you were trying to please him. The hunger you showed to be perfectly good for him incited his need to spoil you even more, and he quickens the circles on your clit, trying to loosen you up so he could bottom out.

Once you were slick enough, Rafayel didn't waste anymore time, guiding you down on the last few inches, kissing you full on the mouth to quell your trembling moans.

“Fuck.” Your cries were intoxicating, driving him mad with desire when he finally sank down to the hilt, a bit of drool dripping from your parted lips. 

Rafayel didn’t hesitate to lap at it, dragging his tongue from your jaw to your chin, tasting the salt of your skin. The moon bathed your skin with pale, silky light, and the artist swore if he wasn’t trying to put his babies in you, he would’ve taken this moment to paint you from scratch. 

A tick of your hips. Your walls trembled around him. 

Guttural groans softened by his lips pressed to your neck reverberated against your skin.

Holy shit, his curses sink past your flesh. Shit, shit—you feel like heaven. 

Please, move. Your begging elicited a hoarse chuckle from the Lemurian.

As you wish, my bride.

Slow, tantric strokes. Rafayel’s grip on your hips was firm and solid. He kept a steady pace, fucking up into you, the tips of his tail flicking past the tub's rim, catching your eye with its iridescent brilliance. 

Every stroke of his ridged cock rubbing against your gummy walls felt like a pulsing nirvana. Throbbing, hot, needy. You were completely Rafayel’s—you belonged fully to the Sea God of your dreams.

Mhm, yeah, he continued to fuck into that same spot, coaxing you with You like that? fuck you like that. Mhm yeah. Uh-huh—good girl. 

The tips of his lilac bangs tickled your neck as he sucked more love bites into your neck, hellbent on marking you up as his own. 

Effortlessly, he turned you in his embrace, encouraging you to press your hands on the bathtub’s edge. This newfound position placed more pressure on your G spot, the tip of his cock nudging that same spot over and over again.

Behind you, Rafayel made it a sport to leave as many hickeys as he could on your nape, your shoulders. The rough scales of his fingertips gripped the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing heartily.

You look so good taking me like this. His rough praise drew goosebumps across your entire body. 

You tipped your head back, dizzy with lust, mouth parting wide open. 

In the dimness of the candlelight, Rafayel’s lilac eyes glimmered like amethysts, his hair shining with an ethereal gleam. 

“My love, do you trust me?” His heated question pressed into the back of your neck pricked your awareness. The stretch and the bite of pain which mingled with pleasure fucked with your mind, drawing you right to the edge where nothing in the world existed beyond you being impaled on his cock.

“Mhm,” your replying moan drew a trembling laugh from him. 

I have something which will make it all feel better… but only if you trust me. 

Rafayel tangled your hair in his fingers, and in this instance, you would’ve done anything for him. 

You nodded.

The pleasure he bestowed on your wrecked body, the gentle way he was asking if he could make you feel even more good, did not prepare you for what he did next. 

One second, your head was tilted back against his chest, and the next, you were plunged face first into the tub water. Your eyes opened wide, your entire body tensing with fear. Eyes burning, you opened your mouth to scream when he yanked you back to the surface, sputtering and crying out his name. 

“Shit.” Rafayel’s movements doubled in speed, fucking up into you like he didn’t respect you one bit. You were panting, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles.

“Fuck,” was the only word you could manage to blurt out, the tension in your lower belly tightening.

If it was possible, the sensation of his cock splitting you apart felt even more delirious. Dizzyingly so. 

Your eyes crossed, mouth hanging open, the slick pistoning of his cock in and out of your willing pussy making every nerve ending in your body burst into unending flames.

Raffie… fuck… do it again.

You were pleading for him to hurt you, the taboo nature of such devious desires making your blood pump harder. 

There was no need to tell him twice.

Rafayel grasped the base of your head, and your world disappeared into the bottom of the tub, your body bucking wildly, fighting for oxygen as his cock continued to bulldoze into you. 

He brought you up, and you gasped, coughing loudly. 

Fuck, your voice was gravelly from swallowing some water. Fuck, that was so hot. 

You weren’t the only one who thought so. 

Shit, your lover groaned. I’m close, baby. 

Lavishing you with praise for being so good, Rafayel held you close to his chest, your back bowing to take all of him in. 

You’re amazing, love. My bride, my Queen. You’re going to be the best mother. The best mate. I love you. I love you so much. 

The moonlight scattered across the rippling water, reminding you of that time when he had you right on the seabed and you watched the light breaking above the surface. 

Come for me, my love. His grunts touched the sensitive shell of your ear. Come for me and make me feel good—are you going to be good for me?

Yes, yes. You chant. Yes, I will, Raffie. 

Yes, my bride. Fuck—doing so good. Yeah, yeah. Come, come. Fucking make a mess on me. 

You could never deny Rafayel what he wanted. At his command, you spilled all over him, your muscles tightening, threatening to spit him out of your trembling heat. 

So good, so good for me. Coaxing you through your orgasm, he talked you through it, there for every tremble, every quiver and moan. 

Your pleasure washed over him in waves, and he couldn’t hold back the tide, not when going over and spilling inside of you, claiming you as his, is what he has always wanted since the dawn of time. 

Strings of heat splattered inside of you, filling you to the brim till you thought you could taste him in the back of your throat. 

Rafayel continued to pump his hips, desperately trying to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.

When the comedown hits, it slammed into you hard. The exhaustion mingled with the fatigue of the adrenaline ebbing out of your veins. 

You slumped back into his arms, and Rafayel was careful to slowly ease you off his half-hard cock, holding you close in his embrace. The possessiveness that dripped from his fingertips as they stroked through your hair, the heat of his body, warmed you up in the already cool water. 

The chill permeated through you, though you barely felt it, not when Rafayel was by your side.

A soft kiss was placed on your jaw.

“Was it good?” 

You nodded, hazy and dopey from the rush of hormones. “Beyond perfection.”

Rafayel chuckled at the dopey happiness alighting in your eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, nuzzling his face into your damp neck. Now that his primal instincts were cooling off, he could give your wrecked body the attention it deserved. 

The warmth of his skin seeped into yours. Hard scales turned back to soft flesh, his huge tail transforming into a pair of legs tightening around your midsection, determined to hold you fast to his chest. Languishing in the cool water, you glanced up at the moon, noting a pair of wispy clouds drifting past her luminous facade, reminding you of a couple dancing past a huge celestial spotlight.

Rafayel rubbed your belly with one hand, and you didn’t have to ask him what was on his mind to know his raging thoughts.

Placing your hand upon his, you smile at him over your shoulder. The fall of his lilac hair, the softness in his eyes. It made your heart melt.

“Are you nervous?” 

Your question, seemingly innocent, held a multitude of layers which he could unravel easily enough after having known you for close to a millenia. 

“Of the babies? No,” he answered truthfully. “But, of how will things change between us? Yeah, I’m terrified.”

You readjusted yourself on his lap, facing him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. “Are you afraid I’m gonna leave you once I find out your babies are bulging inside of me?” you tease.

Rafayel’s pout was endearing, and you laughed, pinching his cheek. “Raffie… you’re so silly.”

He huffed, his palms drifting to clasp around your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. “Am I so silly or just worried you might still think I’m a freak?”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Ouch. You really underestimate me, my love. You’d think I’d let you do this if I didn’t want it?” 

Knowing full well how independent and firm you could be, his worries abated slightly, a smirk worming onto his shapely and perfect lips. 

“Of course not, Miss Bodyguard. You would never do anything if you didn’t love it.”

Your eyes softened. “Well, there’s your answer.” Under the luminous moonlight, your embrace tightened around him, bridging the distance between 800 years and this moment where you and Rafayel would finally be a family.

“I only do it because I love you.”

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[tofuxtea]

𝟏:𝟓𝟓 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — art the clown x gn!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — fluff, art meets someone who isn’t scared of him, art goes to kill u but alas you are … autistic!reader, nonverbal!reader, lowkey a projection of me and how i regress/how art makes me regress lol, also a little theory as to how art gains strength/why he kills so relentlessly as a demon, not proofread!

a demon must feed off of fear. it’s how it gains strength and power. art was no different.

it was his luck that his appearance alone usually struck the fear of god into people. tall but lean in a black and white clown suit, sometimes stained with a strange red substance. face painted white, black outlining an eerily smiling mouth and wide blue eyes. at least, sometimes they were blue.

when he was knee deep into brutally slaughtering people, his eyes would go pitch black from excitement and because his strength was slowly doubling.

everyone who had the misfortune of knowing of his presence feared even his name. all except one.

he’d encountered many who feigned tolerance towards him, some even daring to embrace him before meeting the same fate as everybody else. because they reeked of the same fear as the rest. he could tell in the way they tried to steady their shaking hands, the way their eyes glazed over as they realized they had lost the fight.

but you. you.

you were different. he’d tracked you down after watching you walk home from a little neighborhood party, and he observed you for a couple of days. you lived alone, hardly touched your phone, typed and typed away on your computer with your glasses hanging onto the edge of your nose. completely indifferent to the rest of the world outside.

nobody would miss you. nobody even turned their heads towards your house as they walked by it.

so obviously nobody noticed when he slipped into your house that night. the inside was drab. nicely decorated but it still felt empty. perhaps you’d just moved in not too long ago.

when he found you in your bedroom, comfortably sleeping, he found that wasn’t quite the case. all of the decor, if you could call it that, was stuffed up in here. merchandise from several franchises were nailed, taped, displayed on every surface of your bedroom. sonic, ninja turtles, spiderman.

art stared at it. then at you. you were swarmed by stuffed animals, arms wrapped tightly around a particularly huge fuzzy stuffed sonic plush. the side of your face squished into it and you hummed in your sleep.

he set the garbage bag he had slung over his shoulder down and began searching for something to dismantle you with. the metallic clinks echoed in the room and seemed to wake you up when your muffled grunts became clearer and you began to stretch out your curled limbs.

it took you a while to notice him, but when you did you only blinked. art figured it was a shock response and gave you a taunting smile, baring ugly teeth. your eyebrows knitted together while you sat up, but still you said nothing. not even a scream.

art rose to his feet, towering over you even on your hip-high mattress. in his hand, he had a hefty tool that glinted in the moonlight. fear should have been radiating off of you by now, but that rush he was expecting never came. perhaps you thought you were dreaming.

but as your eyes scanned him from top to bottom, you seemed to accept it as reality. even as you reached out and gingerly tapped his bloodied, gloved hand with the tip of your finger. you didn’t question it.

art hesitated. but only because he doubted he would be strong enough to take your head off with one clean swipe. he wasn’t even close to half of his full strength yet. why was this taking so long?

you turned to the side, searching for something in the sea of stuffies you were haloed with just moments earlier. plucking a smaller one out of the heap, you offered it to the mysterious clown at the side of your bed. it was one of your lesser favorites because you didn’t want him to get it dirty with his white-stained-red gloves. a little fuzzy bee you got from a museum years back.

art pointed at himself, and you nodded with a gentle smile. you half thought that was what he wanted. some strange stuffed animal reaper.

he reached for it, and the cleaver in his hand hit the ground with a thud that made you flinch and cover your ears. almost instinctively, you leaned towards him.

you weren’t scared of the knife itself but the loud noise. art was baffled that somebody could look to him for protection. had you any idea who he was? the miles county clown, was the name every tv within a 50 mile radius was echoing daily because of him.

well, you probably actually didn’t. in the days he watched you, you neglected to turn on the news or scroll through social media. was that why you weren’t scared of him?

either way, his palm found the top of your head, awkwardly patting it with a force that told you he was also trying to push you away. you peered up at him with a straight lipped smile, and gently grabbed the wrist of the hand on your head. he tensed, shocked, but allowed you to flip his palm upwards, watching as you ran your finger over his red stained glove.

you spelled out your name, letter by letter, and pointed to yourself. you also couldn’t speak. or you couldn’t at the moment.

art could only tilt his head at you, genuinely frowning because his presence wasn’t scaring you shitless. he was more confused than anything else.

you gestured towards him and handed him your own palm. he was to etch his name onto your skin.

it took him a second to do it, letting his hand cradle yours while he dragged his finger across your palm. A-R-T.

registering the name, you nodded up at him. it was quite fitting for him, you thought.

the clown grinned and waved your own stuffed animal in front of your face before booping your nose with it. he found he liked the sound of your giggle, which brought him both comfort and unease.

you were sad when he left so quickly, dropping your stuffed bee into your lap and grabbing his garbage bag. he put a finger to his lips and wagged his fingers at you before retreating back into your hallway. the sound of your comforter shuffling made him pause and he found you bent over, picking his cleaver up off of your floor.

you sheepishly held the heavy handle out to him.

you were quite tall. still significantly shorter than him, but taller than he was expecting. wearing a slim fitting tank top and some athletic shorts. you even had some tattoos on your arms and on your thighs. things he hadn’t seen past your sweaters and jeans.

he took the cleaver and prepared to take his leave, but was stunned when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him. for a moment, he was the scared one. but he soon realized that you were only hugging him.

“thank you,” you whispered, so softly and shakily he almost missed it over the buzz of your electric fan. still, you held no fear of him.

you smiled when his arms briefly closed around you.

and then he was gone.

i love him sm 😞😞

[overtail]

Late Night Brew - Zuko x Reader 🔞

🔥🛀🏻

Jesus, yall are FREAKS for zuko

Summary: After Iroh opens the Jasmine Dragon, he hires a new worker -- a pretty girl, one around Zuko's age. While Iroh is taking a trip to the market for more supplies after work, desperation unfolds.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, Soft Sex, Cussing, Semi-public Sex, Body Worship, and Zuko acting like an awkward turtle duck.

Micheal, I know ur reading this

...

Zuko didn't like the new waitress.

She didn't do anything in particular to get on his bad side, he just couldn't stand her.

He hated how she looked in her apron, how the skirt she wore rode up a little too high on her thighs.

He hated how her hip popped when she was standing still while taking orders.

He hated all her curves, her moles, and her messy hair; how it all made her so beautiful.

And he especially hated that at night, when he laid in bed in that cold apartment, how he couldn't get her face out of his mind. How the image of her body echoed in his head while he reached his hands into his pants.

He wanted her gone.

"Lee, could you help me with the tables?"

Zuko wiped the counters of the bar, groaning at the sound of her voice. He turned around, only to see her back to him.

He watched as her arm worked on a stained table, trying to get a mark from condensation out.

"Can't you just do it yourself?"

He grumbled, shaking his head and turning back around. It's not like he had much to do -- he just didn't want to work so close to her.

"I've got one table left and my shift ends in two minutes. I'd rather not work unpaid overtime."

He heard her say. Even with Zuko's rude attitude, she still had a soft tone with him; she spoke to him like he was a fussy toddler.

Which he sort of was.

Zuko grumbled a few curses under his breath, grabbing the hand towel he was just using to walk over to one of the tables.

He looked at (Y/N), looking at her thighs and her hips. His face flushing red, turning and brushing back his short black hair.

The table he had to clean wasn't the dirtiest. It had a single cup on it, and a few spills here and there. He wanted to get away as soon as possible, so he could just go home and relax.

Well, his version of relaxing.

He palmed his growing erection through his pants, trying to subside it for at least the remaining two minutes.

"Thank you, Lee."

Zuko heard the smile from her voice, face growing red at her kindness. Even if it wasn't his real name, he felt giddy at the way she said Lee.

All he did was nod, grabbing the cup and wiping off the tea from the table. He marched to the sink in the back room. Zuko grabbed the sponge that sat on the wooden counter, already full with soap. He began to scrub, getting the smell of Jasmine tea out from the cup -- even if it was his favorite.

As he did so, (Y/N)'s soft footsteps were sounded from behind him. He let out an exasperated groan, not wanting to stand next to her.

(Y/N) walked up quiet, placing three cups in the sink. One stayed in her hand, grabbing the other. sponge and pouring some soap in the glass.

There was an awkward silence between the two -- at least on his end.

As she was cleaning, her elbow bumped into his side. He didn't say anything, just kept cleaning the cup. The second time though, it started to bother him. And when the third time hit, he was set off.

"Can you stop doing that?"

He yelled, looking at her with angry eyes. She looked up with her mouth still agape, her eyes meeting with him amber ones.

"Oh, I'm sorry. There's just not much space back here.."

Her face flushed red with embarrassment. Zuko rolled his eyes.

"I already don't want to be back here with you, let alone have to be touched by you."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, eyebrows lifting quickly. She pursed her lips.

"What is your problem Lee? All i've done is try to be friends with you -- and you just treat me like garbage!"

Her voice was raised, and she poked his chest with her thin fingers. She was kind of cute when she was mad; the way her nose scrunched made his stomach flutter.

"Have you considered the fact that i don't want to be friends with the likes of you?"

He bickered, peering his eyes down to her. She gasped slightly, shoulders raising in surprise.

"With the likes of me? What do you mean the likes of me?"

She stepped even closer to him, their chests almost touching.

Zuko scoffed at her words, rolling his eyes.

"I don't associate with peasants."

And his heart stopped.

(Y/N) was from the lower ring of Ba Sing Se. His uncle Iroh had hired her while he watched her get fired from her other job, feeling bad for her.

Zuko didn't mean peasant in that way. He was just thinking like the old Zuko -- the one that hunted the avatar and did anything to regain his honor back. But he was supposed to be Lee now, a traveler, a teenage boy that works in a tea shop, who just happened to be lucky enough to live in a nice apartment.

"Peasant?"

Her words sounded broken. Her voice cracked as she muttered the words, lower than the loud voice she was using before.

"I get you're from the upper ring -- but peasant? Really?"

She shook her head, stepping back. Zuko felt like he was floating away from the lack of closeness from her.

"That's not what i meant."

Zuko said, closing his eyes and sighing.

"It's just -- i have issues."

He never liked admitting he had problems. He was supposed to be Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, prissy and perfect.

"Yeah, you do."

(Y/N) said, looking Zuko up and down. Her eyes winded slightly, cheeks growing even redder than before.

Zuko raised a brow, confused at what she was looking at. He looked down and then realized.

"Wait, it's not what it looks like-"

"Is this.."

She began, looking back up at him.

"..turning you on?"

She said curiously, turning her head.

(Y/N) stepped forward, her hands lying on her hips. She was about the same height as Zuko -- since he was significantly short.

"Is that why you're so mean to me?"

She placed her hand on his chest, causing Zuko to take a deep breath in.

Oh Spirits.

"Because you like me?"

They were too close. Way too close. He was getting harder by the second, not knowing what to do.

So he did the only thing that came to mind.

He reached his hands forward, grabbing her face in his hands. He pulled her forward, placing his chapped lips tenderly on hers. He stayed still for a moment, never having kissed a girl before.

He leaned back awkwardly, still holding her face in his hands.

His index finger brushed a hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

(Y/N) had never been this close to him before. She was able to admire his face entirely as he focused on the strand of hair, looking at his scar and the light freckles that dotted his pale skin. He had bags under his eyes, and she wondered what caused it.

"You're pretty."

She said, grabbing his face with one hand. He flinched lightly, eyes flickering back to her. He wasn't used to such a touch -- not feeling it since he last saw his mother.

Zuko leaned into it, letting her fingers form around the shape of his jaw. His eye lashed flickered as he blinked, and she admired the entirety of him.

"Thanks.. you too."

He said, not knowing how to respond. He didn't ever get compliments.

"You know, you could have just told me that you liked me."

(Y/N) laughed, causing Zuko to look away.

"I don't like you."

He grumbled, looking at the wall above the sink.

She laughed, turning his head with her palm to look at her. She used her other hand to place it on his crotch, grinning wildly,

"What's this then?"

Zuko looked down, feeling a rush of ecstasy flow through his body. He whimpered softly, his eyes closing from it.

"That's enough to tell me you like me."

...

In the next minute, Zuko's lips were on her neck. She was on the counter next to the sink, legs wrapped around Zuko's torso, Her hand was tangled in his short hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter,

Zuko was holding her waist, his right hand gripping the fat of her thigh. He loved being this close, the agility to breath her in making him feel incredibly hot.

"Lee, I love this as much as you do, but we need to start quickly before Mushi gets back."

Zuko groaned against her neck, removing his lips from her soft skin. He was reluctant, but she was right. Regrettably.

"Yeah, right."

He stepped back, beginning to unbuckle the belt that held up his pants. He look up suddenly, face growing hot,

"Could you uhm, close your eyes,,"

He muttered shyly, getting a smile out of (Y/N). She nodded, closing her eyes. Zuko fully took his pants off, now sliding his boxers from his waist. He was practically in pain from all this, and he needed relief soon. He walked closer, close enough that his member hid under the lip of her skirt. She took this as an okay, opening her eyes only to be met with Zuko's amber ones,

She reached down, pulling her underwear to the side, The cold night air hit her exposed parts, making her shiver.

"Okay. I'm ready, Lee."

Zuko placed one hand on the base of him, lining himself up with (Y/N). She scrunched her eyes at the feeling of his tip entering her, toes curling in her sandals, Zuko then grabbed her hips, looking up at her.

Then he bucked his hips forward.

"Shit!"

(Y/N) squealed, squeazing Zuko's tense shoulders. He groaned, one of his eyes closing shut. She felt so good -- better than he could ever have imagined. The nights he spent awake, whimpering her name as his hand rubbed his length up and down, imaging her bent over the tables of the tes shop, in his bed, and even in the back room.

He fully slid in, letting out a mix of illegible words. All that (Y/N) could make out was her name.

He pulled out before pushing back in again. She moaned, throwing her head back. zzuko got a good look at her neck, the hockey's that he had placed only minutes before.

Soon, they were at a regular place. Out, in. Out, in. The room was filled with soft groans, and Zuko could already feel his arrival coming. It was all too much. His eyes were currently chained to her crotch, watching himself slide in and out. He then looked up, making eye contact with (Y/N).

"Lee.."

She said in an airy voice, palm grazing his clenched jaw. That's what did it for him, the sight of her unraveling beneath him. Ropes of white shot out of him, painting the inside of her white. He kept pounding into her, riding out his orgasm.

...

lwk lost my motivation at the end......

[httpvomitello]

Heeeeeey, how’s it going? I was thinking... something with our BAY TMNT boys, separately, their reaction when they discover that the reader (whom they secretly have a crush on) has a small and adorable pet turtle. Maybe one day they went to her house and saw the big, cute tank, noticing something tiny moving at the bottom and seeing a little turtle living its life in peace, surrounded by cute decorations and food everywhere (just to give you an idea) c:

I love that everyone comes to a consensus that the reader will always have a pet turtle. Anyways, hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Turtleception *⁠.⁠✧

Leo wasn’t one to take unnecessary risks, but for you? Well, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t found himself in a few precarious situations just to be closer to you. Tonight, however, was supposed to be a simple visit—nothing too crazy.

He climbed through your window with his usual quiet precision. The soft glow of your apartment’s lighting welcomed him.

“(Y/N)?” he called out softly, not wanting to startle you.

“In here!” Your voice came from the living room.

He followed the sound, but before he could make it all the way, something caught his eye. Against the wall stood a large glass tank, filled with vibrant decorations, miniature plants, and a tiny rock formation in the center. Curious, he stepped closer, eyes scanning the setup.

Then, he saw it—a tiny turtle, slowly paddling its way through the water, completely oblivious to the world around it.

Leo blinked, crouching down for a better look. “Is that…a turtle?” he muttered to himself, unable to stop the small smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, you met Speedy!” you said, stepping into the room with a grin.

“Speedy?” Leo echoed, his amusement clear.

“Yeah, ironic name, I know,” you said with a laugh. “He’s been with me for a while. Got him when he was even tinier.”

Leo chuckled, his fingers resting lightly on the edge of the tank. “He’s…adorable.”

You tilted your head, with a provocative smile on the lips, joking you said, “You like turtles?”

Leo hesitated, the slightest hint of a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Well, you could say I have a…personal connection.”

You smirked, leaning closer. “Let me guess. You see yourself in him, huh?”

Leo chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that.”

The sight of you caring for such a small, delicate creature warmed his heart. He could see how much love and attention you poured into Speedy’s care.

“You know,” he said, standing upright, “I think Speedy’s lucky to have you.”

You smiled, meeting his gaze. “And I think I’m lucky to have you, Leo.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he silently vowed to visit more often—if not just for you, then to check on his fellow turtle friend.

Raph wasn’t one for subtle entrances, but tonight, he made an exception. He climbed through your window with ease, landing silently on your living room floor.

He glanced around, his sharp eyes quickly taking in the space. That’s when he noticed it—a large glass tank sitting in the corner. His brows furrowed, and he walked over, curiosity piqued.

As he got closer, he spotted it—a tiny turtle, lounging on a rock under a miniature lamp, living its best life.

“What the…?” Raph muttered, leaning in closer.

“Oh, hey, Raph!” your voice called from the kitchen.

He straightened, turning as you entered the room with a bowl of snacks. “Didn’t know you had a pet,” he said, nodding toward the tank.

You smiled, setting the bowl down. “Oh, that’s Tank. He’s my little buddy.”

Raph crossed his arms, glancing back at the tiny turtle. “Tank, huh? Fitting name.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, he’s small but tough. Reminds me of someone.”

Raph smirked, the compliment not lost on him. “So, you’re into turtles?”

You shrugged, sitting on the couch. “Always have been. Tank’s just the cutest, don’t you think?”

Raph crouched down, watching as Tank lazily paddled through the water. “Yeah…he’s alright.” His tone was gruff, but you could see the soft glint in his eyes.

You nudged him playfully. “Admit it, you think he’s adorable.”

Raph huffed, trying to keep his tough exterior intact. “Maybe.”

But deep down, he couldn’t deny it. Seeing you care for something so small and fragile made his chest ache in the best way.

Donnie wasn’t one to show up unannounced, but after getting an excited text from you about some “new setup,” his curiosity got the better of him. He made his way to your place and slipped in quietly, his eyes scanning the room for whatever it was you wanted to show him.

Then, he saw it—a large glass tank filled with intricate decorations, bubbling water, and in the center, a tiny turtle happily exploring its aquatic home.

Donnie’s eyes widened, and he immediately stepped closer, adjusting his goggles for a better look. “No way…” he whispered, fascinated by the detailed setup.

“Donnie! You’re here!” you said, stepping into the room.

He turned to you, his excitement clear. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a turtle?”

You laughed, moving to stand beside him. “I thought I did. That’s Shelly.”

“Shelly,” Donnie repeated, his tone approving. “A classic name.”

You nodded proudly. “I’ve had her for a while. Just upgraded her tank today.”

Donnie couldn’t help but admire your handiwork. “This is…impressive. The filtration system, the decor placement, even the water temperature—it’s perfect.”

You raised a brow, smirking. “You’re geeking out over my turtle, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, adjusting his goggles again. “Can you blame me? She’s practically a part of the family now.”

The idea of you caring for something so meticulously made his admiration for you grow even more.

Mikey was always eager to visit you, and tonight was no different. He practically bounced through your window, landing in your living room with a wide grin.

“(Y/N)! I’m here!” he called out, his voice full of excitement.

“Hey, Mikey! Be right there!” you called back from another room.

While waiting, Mikey’s eyes wandered around your apartment. That’s when he spotted it—a large tank filled with colorful plants, tiny figurines, and…a turtle?

“No way,” Mikey whispered, his grin growing even wider as he crouched down to get a better look. “You’ve got a tiny me!”

The little turtle swam lazily through the water, completely unaware of the giant mutant admiring it.

“That’s Mr. Wiggles,” you said, stepping into the room.

“Mr. Wiggles?” Mikey repeated, laughing. “That’s the best name ever!”

You grinned. “He’s my little buddy. Got him a few years ago.”

Mikey tapped lightly on the glass, watching as Mr. Wiggles paddled over curiously. “Dude, this is awesome. It’s like you were meant to be part of the turtle squad.”

You chuckled, sitting beside him. “Maybe. He’s pretty low-maintenance, but he’s good company.”

Mikey glanced at you, his smile softening. “You’re pretty good company too, you know.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you nudged him playfully. “Thanks, Mikey.”

He leaned closer to the tank, watching Mr. Wiggles with a twinkle in his eye. “Man, I think I just found my new best friend.”

You laughed, feeling your heart swell. Mikey’s joy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have him—and your tiny turtle companion—in your life.

[jflemings]

— busted

pairing: jessie fleming x arsenal!reader {piper’s world}

synopsis: sam offers to babysit piper while you go out on a date and decides to drag niamh along. piper accidentally spills the beans on you and jessie’s budding relationship

warnings: none!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🪽 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“y/n!” sam calls as her and niamh enter your apartment. she takes off her shoes and gestures for her teammate to do the same before the sound of small feet pitter-pattering draws her attention.

piper is going as fast as her little legs can carry her, her arms outstretched as she runs towards sam. she’s grinning big and giggles loudly when sam bends down and picks her up, tossing her in the air slightly.

“sammy!” her boisterous giggles bounce off the walls.

“pippa!” sam echoes back

the striker holds piper close to her and points to niamh “you remember niamh, don’t you?”

piper nods and waves “hi niamh”

the defender softly says hi back just as you stick your head around the corner “oh my god thank you so much for doing this” you thanks as you lean down to zip up your left boot “i’m sorry it’s so last minute, i’ll get you both something to make up for it”

“don’t worry about it” sam waves off “i’d do anything to spend time with piper, and niamh here was just sitting at home” you says jerking her thumb behind her.

you pat yourself down and check your purse to make sure you’ve got everything before running a finger under your eye “i shouldn’t be back too late” you assure the duo.

sam nods “tell me again about this date”

you roll your eyes “there’s not much to tell. we met through a mutual friend and hit it off”

“and when can i meet this mystery woman?” she cocks her brow

you pause and bite your lip before shrugging “i’ll let you know”

sam rolls her eyes as you redirect your attention to niamh, smiling briefly “there’s left over pasta in the fridge but i’ve also left money on the counter if you wanna order in, she’s been fed and bathed, bed time is eight thirty, and if she wants a snack there’s a variety in the cupboard” you tell the two chelsea players as you grab your coat “and do not let her bully you into allowing her to stay up late” you point at the both of them.

niamh’s hands go up in surrender “got it. food in fridge, bed at half past eight, snacks in the cupboard, don’t let her bully us” she lists off, earning a nod of approval from you.

“you’re a natural” you playfully wink at her before kissing piper’s head “be good for sammy and niamh. i don’t want any trouble” you say pointedly

piper nods her head “you be good too, mummy” she says as she lays her head on sam’s shoulder.

you usher the two women further into your apartment as you check your phone, your eyes widening at the realisation that you’re going to be late. you blow your daughter a kiss and wave the three of them goodbye, closing the door and leaving them to their own devices.

“have fun on your daaaaate!” sam calls out as you shut the door, smiling smugly to herself.

over her shoulder, niamh and piper share a look “you wan’a colour?”

two hours later sam is sitting on the floor of your lounge room with multicoloured clips in her hair. piper holds onto her shoulder as she focuses on finding a place for a sparkly butterfly clip.

she clips it in the front of sam’s hair and then holds out her small hand “‘nother please niamh” she says politely.

“of course” the defender says whilst trying to hold in her giggles “another butterfly?”

piper stops to think for a minute “yes please”

sam flicks through the kids section on netflix patiently “what do ya wanna watch, kiddo?”

“turtles please” piper answers as niamh hands her a blue butterfly clips “blue for cheelseaaa” she drags out as she carefully placed the clip in sam’s hair.

sam finds the animated ninja turtle show piper’s talking about and smirks “blue for chelsea because we play for chelsea?”

“no” she says matter-a-factually “blue for chelsea because jessie plays for chelsea”

niamh stills for a moment “you know jessie?”

sam nods her head “i introduced them a—”

“of course i know jessie” piper interrupts dramatically “jessie has sleepovers!”

the two women pause and share a look. niamh raises her brows as sam shrugs her shoulders, the two of them having a wordless conversation.

piper, being none the wiser to it, continues “and colours with me and plays with me” she goes on, holding out her hand again.

niamh’s on auto pilot as she hands the toddler another clip, her unblinking expression identical to sam’s.

“all done!” piper cheers as she claps her hands, holding up a hand held mirror to sam so she can look at her hair. sam takes the mirror and nods her head before turning to piper.

“do you see jessie all the time or just sometimes?”

“all the time” piper nods “mummy and jessie go out sometimes so i get to go to stephy”

niamh’s eyes go wide “and mummy and jessie… are they—”

“mummy and jessie are bestest friends” piper giggles as she situates herself in sam’s lap “they say so all the time”

the two chelsea players share another confused look but don’t push it any further with the toddler, choosing to sit back and watch the show she’d chosen instead.

despite the colourful animation on the screen in front of her, sam’s mind was going a million miles a minute. she loved jessie dearly but she knew what you went through when you got pregnant with piper. the internal conflict that plagued your pregnancy had taken a toll on you, as did the fact that your ex wanted nothing to do with you or your sweet little girl, and sam didn’t want a repeat of that happening. hell would freeze over before she watched you get treated like that again.

it only took thirty minutes for piper to be sprawled out in sam’s lap, her little limbs poking sam’s body awkwardly. the striker brushed some hair out of her face before standing carefully, adjusting her grip so that piped was situated comfortably on her chest.

she walks down the hall to piper’s room and tucks her in before turning on her little fairy lights. she stands in the doorway for a minute to ensure that she hadn’t woken the child up before cracking the door and walking back out to the living room.

“did you know—”

“no” sam replies as she sits on the couch next to niamh “i had no clue”

the defender kisses her teeth “are you worried?”

sam pauses for a moment, scrubbing her hand over her face before releasing a sigh “no” she says, dropping her arm on the armrest “not for the reasons you might think, anyway”

niamh nods and fidgets with the remote, the animated teenage mutant ninja turtles show still playing in the background. “so… the issue isn’t jessie?”

“no, god no. well—” sam shakes her head “no” she says firmly before looking to niamh.

niamh smirks “so you won’t be mad at me if i call jessie right now?”

“to do what?” sam asks puzzled.

you and jessie walk with your arms linked, the both of you bundled up and huddled into eachother as you walk to her car. you shake your head and laugh as jessie tells you a story from her ucla days.

“you left her on the front lawn?” you laugh

jessie throws her head back “no!” she exclaims “she told me she was getting her own way back to our dorm so i left early. it was only when i woke up the next morning and she wasn’t there that i ran back to the frat house”

“teagan gets pretty wild” you muse “i can’t believe she got you to go to a frat party”

the canadian groans “more than once, and i ended up leaving early almost everytime”

“almost?”

jessie blushes wildly and looks away from you briefly, clearly recalling a memory she doesn’t want to think about “yes” she says quietly.

you duck your head slightly “jeeesssieee” you draw out teasingly, nudging your shoulders together.

she’s about to answer you when her phone buzzes in her pocket. she stops the two of you and pulls her phone out, frowning when she sees niamh’s name on her screen. the two of you look at eachother and shrug before she answers “hello?”

“jessie!” you hear niamh yell down the other line “how’s your night going? what are you up to?”

jessie’s eyebrows furrow in suspicion “it’s fine, not much going on. why? what are you doing?”

“sam and i are babysitting” she answers, allowing jessie to hear the smile in her voice.

the midfielder’s face drops ever so slightly and she looks at you intensely. you feel your stomach fall and you can’t help but grip jessie’s arm tighter.

“real cute kid, very polite” the defender trails off “how’s y/n?”

all the colour drains from jessie’s face and her eyes go wide. you can see the panic across her face and you wave your free hand about trying to get her to try to explain whatever niamh was telling her.

it’s like jessie’s brain has completely disconnected from her mouth “who’s y/n?”

you drop jessie’s arm and cover your face with both hands as she grimaces. the canadian bites one of her knuckles as niamh goes silent on the other end of the phone and she wonders if she can just hang up now.

“jessie” a thick australian accent says “put y/n on the phone please”

“okay” jessie says quietly before holding out the phone “it’s for you”

you purse your lips and take the phone off her “niamh”

“nope”

you screw your eyes shut “hey sammy, how’s piper?” you ask as cheerily as you can “did she get to bed okay?”

“fell asleep in my lap whilst watching ninja turtles” she answers “how’s your date going?”

“good” you answer whilst nodding “i’ll, uhm, be home soon”

“perfect!” she perks up “tell jessie to come up with you when she drops you off”

you look at jessie who’s biting her nails nervously and watching you like a hawk, looking for any sign that sam’s unhappy with the two of you. you suddenly feel like you’re back in highschool getting scolded by your mother for ending up drunk on your high school’s oval instead of sleeping at your friend’s house like you told her. you frown and pull jessie’s hand away from her mouth before holding it in your own.

“okay” you sigh deeply before hanging up and handing jessie’s phone back to her.

she pockets it and squeezes your hand “is it bad?” she asks nervously.

you squint “i’m not sure” you say huddling into her again “but it’s just sam, so, probably not”

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love - Part 3

AN: Hey, can I be sappy with y'all a moment? When I first started this story, I was admittedly pretty proud of what I came up with but I never anticipated the amount of love it would receive, so thank you everyone! <3 I also thank you for your patience, you have all been great 😋 With that said, I now bestow the conclusion to this renegade of emotion

Part 1 - Part 2

Donatello x Reader

Pathetic. That’s the one word that keeps ringing in your ears like echoes of a bug-infested cavern, the erratic scuttling serving loudly as your reminder. In no respect towards yourself, you are. All you have done since Casey escorted you back home is wallow in bed, tossing around the agonising reprieve that you are a love-strung puppy awaiting its next pat on the head. That’s why you’ve kept texting Donnie to a minimum; cut yourself off from the source and deal with the withdrawal symptoms. Doing this has you riddled with guilt but what else are you meant to do? Everybody loves somebody, right? But you don’t want to love anybody if it isn’t him. Perceivably dramatic, yes. After all, he is still a valued friend. Currently, the way you see it, it’s best to let yourself get over this puppy-dog sickness before that friendship can continue. Again, dramatic but the only logical option with April so tantalisingly strung in the picture.

Living a life of solitude hasn’t been all bad. For starters, you’ve been able to rest your ankle. Walking on it is still a fair challenge but it’s much more manageable than it was before. These past couple of days have also given you amble opportunity to reflect, as it were. It’s kind of easy to understand why one would fall for the resident bad boy in High School but a mutant turtle living in the sewers? No disrespect to Donnie, of course, but you’re just surprised. You don’t even think about all of that when you think of him. All that comes to mind is the heavenly warmth of his eyes; the soft care in them when you would help him out in the lab or when he’d be tending to one of your bumps. Euphoria’s temptress beckons you in once more in its rose-tinted glaze as you fantasise about some superfluous daydream involving him. The sweet melodies enrapture you in this cosy bubble as you curl up in bed but the sharp force of reality is swift and knocks you down before a peak is seized.

Perhaps trying to get over this infatuation isn’t quite going as planned. Groaning out into the open air, you throw a pillow into your face and continue your muffled whining. This is so unfair. Why can’t he be the one that you don’t want? You just can’t seem to escape the fact that you need him. In your state of disarray, you’ve even tried to figure out how to become the one that he thinks about. To try and curate him into being the other half of what you’ve never had. Closeness. A deeply set solitude that seemed so alien to you before you started hanging out with him. Time is slipping at this point. You swear you must be going crazy because of it. There have been a couple of nights when you swear something - someone - has been lingering outside your bedroom. Yet, when you get up to check, there’s nothing there. Part of you hopes that it’s your long-awaited love checking up on you whilst the other screams that you have indeed lost your mind. 

As it would turn out, you’re not as deluded as you might think yourself to be. Indeed, Donatello has tried many a time to meet you in person but to no avail. Many times he has attempted to knock on your window only for his courage to crawl back into the ground and, alas, he does the same by retreating to his home in the sewers. What is he meant to do? You hardly message him if at all these days. Considering the state of injuries you’d endure, he’s worried about you. He has every right to be worried about you. What more could happen to you whilst unsupervised? He doesn’t want to be overly protective but he has valid grounds for such concern. His only assurance that you’re alright is when he sees your shadow through your curtain at night but that isn’t enough. Of course, it isn’t enough. He wants to care for you and cater to your every need and undying whim. 

If only words could do him justice in articulating how he feels about you but he has never been so eloquently spoken unless it’s with regards to the sciences. He’s yours but you’re not his. He just wants you to be with him. If he had to - if he could - he would take the light out of the stars to help you see that. Anything for you to understand just how much he loves you. These spats of poetry are easy enough to site to himself but he knows he would tumble the moment he does as much as even consider reciting such lullabies to you.

Donnie leans over his desk, head in his hands, and sighs heavily for the umpteenth time this day, ever thankful that the streets have been quieter than usual. It’s not as though he can focus on much of anything. All surfaces of his brain have been overtaken and overruled by the thought of you. At this point, he doesn’t even care if nothing happens between the two of you. More so than anything, he just wants you back in the lair. It doesn’t matter if you’ll never be more than friends, he misses his lab partner. It isn’t as though he’s been particularly subtle in his grovelling, either. Figuring out that he had a crush on April was a no-brainer but this has been much more obvious and much more detrimental. His brothers can’t seem to get him out of this funk as much as they may try. Day in and day out, it’s the same thing: Donatello sulking in his lab, staring off into space and pretending to look busy on one of his gadgets. Desperate times call for desperate measures and if he needs a smack up the head, there’s only one person for the job. 

“Come on, Donnie, when are you gonna stop beating yourself up over this?” Raph asks, palming at the desk and resting his body weight against it. 

“Oh, yes, because I stand so much of a chance with (Y/n),” his brother remarks sarcastically. 

The shorter of the two shifts his attention elsewhere, lips turning to the side shamefully. He never wants to feel bad about poking fun or laying out the hard truths of their shared situation being mutants. The bitter contempt within his brother's voice is fair given the fits of teasing in concordance with the cold facts that mutants and humans can’t be. In hindsight, he and his brothers could have treated the situation with more care. Still, as brash as he can be, Raph hates to see a family member suffering as such. Whilst his methods aren’t all conventional, sometimes it’s necessary. 

Raphael huffs and rolls his eyes. “You know what you need?”

“For you to go away?”

“No,” he responds quickly, stifling the annoyance beneath bated breath, “what you need is to get your head out of this storm cloud. Sitting around and moping all day isn’t gonna change anything. So what if you don’t stand a chance? You won’t know until you try.”

“Thank you, Raphael, your input is valuable as always,” Donnie scorns rudely once more and exhales heavily. “I think I just want to be left alone.”

As heartbreaking as it is, such a wish can be respected, especially by the turtle that frequents isolated periods when he’s in a bad mood. Raph takes his leave and reconvenes with Casey for their night of watch duty. They sit atop an apartment roof, scathing the barren area for trouble that never seems to come. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before the main matter at hand becomes the point of conversation. 

“He just needs to take action,” Raph claims as he smacks a fist down into his palm. “I know we haven’t exactly been supportive but it’s eating him up. The sooner he gets it over with, the sooner he can be done with the whole thing.”

Casey’s cheeks puff up into his hands and he frowns, only for a wry grin to quickly take his lips. “Or, he just needs the expert to give him a helping hand.”

“Oh? You’ve changed your tune.”

“Hey, as long as he isn’t trying it on with Red, I’m all good.” Jones shrugs and pulls out his phone. “Now, watch a pro at work.”

Just a few blocks down from our duo lies your rotting form within the confines of your bedroom. It feels as though the space has somehow gotten smaller these last few days. You’ve chosen to spread eagle on the floor seeing as the bed has suddenly become uncomfortable, too. Rolling onto your side, you grab your phone and flick through your music, every song you pass turning out to either be a love song or something somber. Thanks, fate. Turning out to be a great ally here. You scroll a little longer in search of a distraction when a notification takes your attention. 

Hockey Junkie: Hows the ankle treatin ya, everyone in the lair misses u

It hasn’t been uncommon for any of the gang to message you but Casey being somewhat sentimental isn’t inherently natural. You suppose it was only a matter of time. You have been quiet for a short while now. If this has been good for anything, at least you know your friends care about you. It’s only fair that you halt your pitiful oath of silence. 

Nerd’s Assistant: I can walk on it fine but I might give it another day or two just to be sure Hockey Junkie: Playing safe, gotcha Hockey Junkie: Forget that crap tho, get your butt down here, the guys think ur dead

You huff a laugh to yourself and rest your weary head against your folded arm as you roll onto your stomach. In truth, you could have returned to the lair a couple of days ago but that sinking sensation sullies your stomach any time you contemplate the idea. All the more reason to stick to this seclusion. Without knowing what to say, you put your phone down and sigh into the carpet. The sweet melodies from your speaker are almost all-encompassing until your phone dings again. Then, again and for a third time before you decide to take a look.

Hockey Junkie: Look lemme be real with you Hockey Junkie: Gap tooth aint doing so hot right now Hockey Junkie: Can you at least give him a visit? Do it for your favorite classmate yeh?

The last cocky comment goes amiss with the main picture here. What’s wrong with Donnie and what has it got to do with you? All you can think on the matter is that he misses having someone to vent about April to. No, that isn’t fair to him. There’s more to him than just being madly infatuated with her. He’s a beautiful person of vision, albeit a little on the awkward side but that just makes him all the more adorable. Seeing as you haven’t replied to a lot of his texts, he must be bloated with a bad conscience. That must be what Casey is getting at. It takes some effort but you convince yourself that Donatello indeed misses his friendly assistant and that it’s high time you make a move. There goes your vow of distancing yourself. Goodbye, vegetative bed rotting.

Walking to the lair after so much time would be alien was the route not learned via muscle memory. There’s still an unsettling energy that becomes all the more poignant with every step you take but you’re putting that down to your nerves. You should probably text first; let him know that you’re coming but you’ve already made it to the large doors of his laboratory. As your fingers trace over the smooth metal, you think about the day that started this all - the day that would mark a start to something so unexpected that it almost doesn’t seem real. This is real. The alarming beat in your chest is all too loud for it to be a dream. It’s now or never. Taking a deep breath, you knock and pull one of the doors to the side, revealing the beaten-down turtle surrounded by unfinished projects and forgotten inventions alike.  

He slumps further and throws a hand up loosely. “I know you’re trying to help but I already said-” He stops speaking when he turns around and sees it’s you. 

You wave awkwardly with a just as clumsy smile to greet him. He springs up to his feet and bounds towards you, going in for a hug, only to stop himself just a few steps in front of you. That’s too much too soon. Your arrival is just so unexpected but by no means is it unwelcome. Many questions. There’s a lot he wants to ask and much more that he wants to say, like how much he’s missed you, how concerned he’s been, or please, never do that again. 

Instead, he says the only thing he can rationally think to, “How is the, uh, ankle doing?”

“Much better. Some positions still hurt but…” You do a little spin on the spot to demonstrate how much you’ve healed, laughing shortly. “... I can walk now at least.”

Donnie laughs as well, glad for that much. “So, no more injuries I need to worry about?” he asks playfully with raised brows. 

“Nah~” you resound melodically, winking with a waggishness. “Sorry to disappoint, Doc.”

Not a disappointment at all. Knowing you’re in good health, at least physically, is a huge relief. Between the shared chortling and the all-together prospect of dismantling the initial awkwardness, it’s great to have you back. It’s good to be back and you’re inwardly scolding yourself for depriving yourself of pleasant company. An aching heart can make you do stupid things and you’re about to realise just how stupid going quiet was. Donatello rubs the back of his head and seems to look everywhere but at you. 

“So how come you never messaged?” he asks slowly. “I got worried.”

There’s the guilt you had expected but you didn’t realise it would be so gut-wrenching. He’s trying to mitigate how hurt he was but it’s clear as day on his face. You contemplate reaching for him as extra consolation, finger flickering towards his. Instead, hold onto your forearm and tilt your head shamefully.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to worry anyone, especially not you. Just needed some time to myself, I think. You know, reflect on stuff.” Ah, he thinks to himself, Casey stuff no doubt. You blow off a cackle and shrug. “Without sounding like a complete pessimist, I think it’ll be easier to accept that no one could ever fall for me.”

You play it off as a joke - for the most part, that’s how you meant it - but he isn’t having that for a second. His hands jolt for your shoulders unexpectedly. Nothing follows and your wide eyes blink furiously with the abrupt action. 

“Donnie?”

Still, nothing. Gaze turned downwards, he just holds your shoulders, as though he’s thinking long and hard about something. He is. He’s thinking so very hard about this. Even the risk of making a fool of himself can’t scare him out of doing it now. There’s only so long he can carefully tread on this ice before it eventually breaks beneath him and swallows him whole. One might argue that’s not as bad as flat-out rejection but he doesn’t care anymore. It’s time to put those words to the test. 

He breathes deeply to collect himself, to avoid falling into a blubbering mess, and closes his eyes before getting straight to the point. “I know I could never stand any chance with you, as much as I like to pretend that I do, but I’d like it to be known at least. Even if you could never feel the same way, just know that you are loved - that you’re worth loving - and that… I’m in love with you. Don’t ever say stuff like that because it’s not true.”

All you can do is stare. Had he kept his eyes open, he would have witnessed your face shift into every conceivable expression whilst you tried to unpack what had just been said. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Both could be an option were you not so stunned to the point of near incapacitation. The lack of response is jarring yet still, he can’t bring himself to look at you. 

“Oh my God,” you suddenly wheeze under a whisper, afraid that if you speak any louder, you’ll surely burst into tears. “Are you for real?” Confused, he goes to answer but you continue. “Donnie,” you breathe more weakly, “I have been hopelessly in love with you for weeks and now I’m hearing that you feel the same? In all this time where I’ve been in my own head. I just thought that- with April-” You cut yourself off and step back, jerking your shoulders away from his clutch. “No. There’s no way. This isn’t funny, Donnie. Just stop.”

There’s a brief period of chronostasis - a beautiful phenomenon in which time stills and he has the space to reflect on what has just sputtered from your mouth. He almost can’t believe it and, it seems, you can’t believe his own words either. He wants to jump with joy, spring with glee, and throw it in his brothers’ faces for ever doubting such circumstances. The overconfidence can wait. At this moment, it’s just the two of you with this air of reconciliation, though dampened by doubt. Your doubt. 

He holds a hand out to you only for it to clasp into a soft fist. It would be easy to act on the defensive but that wouldn’t amount to anything. If it’s evidence you seek, so he shall provide. He walks over to his desk and retrieves a small box - the same box that you had snooped on the other week, the one containing the quaint, little bracelet that is surely meant for April. That’s what you assumed, which is why your heart clenches tightly. He carefully takes it out of its packaging and fawns over it in a moment of vulnerability. You’re awaiting words of inclination towards the redhead but he remains silent. A green thumb skips over the turtle charm and Donatello outstretches his other hand to you. Wearily, you oblige and bestow yours to him. He cups the back of your hand and turns it over so that he may place the delicate-looking jewellery in your palm, making sure the charm is turned up on its backside. You frown at his peculiar behaviour, only to realise that something is inscribed on the turtle’s underbelly: your initials. 

When it all comes to light, your head turns up to meet him again. He’s glanced away shyly but there’s an awkward smile on his lips. One would think that this shared admittance is something to be celebrated with a fantastical display but it feels much too surreal. You have this horrible vision of waking up in your room, finding this to be another one of your crazed dreams. When he finally meets your stare, those fears vanish. Wild imagination or not, you could never replicate that warm glow of those maroon eyes. Even thoughts of being embarrassed about the tears in your own couldn’t ruin this moment. You fawn over the little bracelet again and shimmy it onto your wrist. The exchange is silent but there’s an ambient comfort: an unfamiliar familiarness that paves way between the two of you and closes the gap you’ve both been aching to be rid of. Neither of you is well-equipped with your words, so this alteration best suits the moment. Everything that has come to be may have been born from unrequited feelings for your friends but the birth place doesn’t matter. Value is held in each other’s happiness and simply loving one another unconditionally.

You lean up, lifting yourself on your good foot mostly, and kiss him on the cheek. His inelegant grin drops and you’re sure the tassels of his mask would have flickered up if they obtained sentient life. A primrose hue blossoms his face - one that you become well-acquainted with when he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead. With you both soaring ever higher, he pulls you into a long-awaited embrace, holding you close as your bodies transcend orbit and go off into the stars. 

Man, he sure does love being a turtle.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

How The Movie Night Went (18+)

Fortnite!Raphael x reader

A/N: Another short blurb like thingy I just had to do❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Rough sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, back shots.

It had started off like any other movie night for you and your boyfriend. You and Raph had decided to start watching a series together, and this time you would actually watch it, and not get caught up in any other activities. Well, that’s at least what the two of you have been saying for a while now. But each and every time, you and Raph would end up doing… other things. And those things would usually involve Netflix asking if the two of you were still watching, while you had either one of your openings stuffed, or Raph’s lips locked somewhere on you. And today… was no different.

The series you and Raph had wanted to watch together was playing in the background, with an important scene taking place. A tense showdown, the protagonist having a meeting with their enemy, tension slowly rising before the inevitable climax. But neither you or Raph was keeping an eye on it. In fact, it had very quickly turned into background noise to the activities you and your turtle boyfriend had gotten up to. To be honest, you couldn’t even hear what was going on on the screen, due to Raph’s heavy grunts and growls, and the echoing slaps from his skin meeting the back of your thighs.

You yelped as Raph’s three fingered hand came down on your right butt cheek, watching it jiggle before grabbing on with both hands, pulling you back on his as he increased the speed of his hips.

You cried out, resting your forehead against the soft surface of the couch, once again thanking the universe that Raph’s family wasn’t home, allowing you to be as loud as you wanted to. And Raph loves when you’re loud, his body reacting to it instantly, his speed increasing even further.

Moans left your lips as one of your hands slided down between your legs, finding your bundle of nerves, being wet from both you and Raph’s slick that had dripped down over it, using it to lubricate your fingers, rubbing them in circles over you. Raph saw you move your hand over you, and felt your walls close in around him, sending a low groan out with his deep churrs, his hips buckling against you from behind.

“Fuck yeah, babe”, he moaned, catching your eyes as you looked at him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushed and our mouth agape. “Rub yourself for me. Fucking cum on my dick”, he continued, before planting another slap to your butt cheek, the loud sound piercing through the empty lair.

“Raph! Babe!”, you called out, feeling tears of pleasure forming in your eyes, at the stinging yet pleasurable sensation on your soft flesh.

There sounded loud yells and screams from the tv screen, but neither you or Raph gave it a second thought. Instead Raph lifted his left knee, putting the weight on his foot instead, giving him another angle to plow into you with. You cried out once more, your back arching upwards, and your fingers stopping momentarily. Raph leaned over you, his plastron resting against your back, while one of his hands moved from your hips, up your sides and under your shirt, grabbing your breast in his fist. You felt his breath against the shell of your ear, slowly bringing life to your fingers once again. Raph chuckled.

“Do you love my dick, babe?”, he asked, amusement thick in his voice. “Do you love it when I fuck you stupid? Do you love it when I take you on the couch while no one is here, huh, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Raph!”, you cried out, your fingers working just as fast as his thrusting member, both bringing immense pleasure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You let out a desperate cry, letting Raph know that you were close. So damn close that you almost were going crazy.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard”, Raph mumbeled, before straightening back up, placing both hands back on your hips, going to town on you with all the power his strong body could muster.

You saw stars before your eyes, as Raph assaulted your g-spot over and over again, pushing you over the edge and into the ocean of pleasure that was your orgasm. Your body contorted under Raph, with the hand you hand used on yourself, instinctively reaching for Raph behind you. He held onto your hand, feeling his own high rabbitly appearance with the clenching of your walls around him, your juices gushing down his member. He felt the tightening of his muscles behind his cloaca, quickly pulling out of you, before resting himself between your cheeks, right before your lower back. With small grunts, Raph came onto your back side, closing his eyes as he emptied himself onto you, letting him run down the curve of your back, pooling at your spine.

Slowly coming down from your highs, panting as you opened your eyes, you were met with a very familiar message from Netflix on the tv screen; “Are you still watching?” Once again, you and Raph had failed to watch the damn show, creating a mess of your backside like all of the other times. Guess movie nights were just bound to fail for the two of you - just like you both secretly wanted it to.

[sad-leon]

Welcome to the Shadow Leo au :D

It's a lotta text, but I don't know if I'll make a fic for this au. It'll probably be a lotta fics and doodles. Asks are encouraged :D

When Splinter explodes Draxum's lab, a crystal Draxum wanted to experiment that held a bunch of shadow power, dropped on Leo, fusing him into shadows. He can only appear where there is shadow, so he can't go outside alone or in really bright rooms.

He can choose whether to be visible or not in a shadow he occupies, so if he's around strangers, he stays hidden.

Because of all the light from the explosions, he hides in Donnie's shadow as Splinter leaves. He doesn't show himself to anyone outside of Donnie for a long time. It's only when they're toddlers that they speak. Leo's speaks first and scares the hell outta Donnie. His voice has a bit of an echo-reverb tone, but otherwise normal.

Donnie tries to show everyone, but eventually let's Leo explain that he's scared of meeting everyone. He grew up with Donnie, they know all about each other and their triggers and such. Leo doesn't have that familiarity with the others and he's scared of breaking down in front of them.

When Donnie brings April to the lair, Leo is excited at the prospect of meeting someone who is also an outsider. When she and Donnie hang out in the lab, Leo shows himself to her. She tries to punch him, she just bruises her knuckled on the wall. Over the years, April, Donnie, and Leo become an indestructible trio.

The fam still doesnt know about Leo when they break into Draxum's lab. Draxum immediatly notices Leo in the shadows and gathers all his mystic crystals to try and break his shadow powers. On of the crystals he hits Leo with grants him the ability to emerge from the walls, though his still looks all shadowy.

Leo still chooses to hide in Donnie's shadow, though he ventures out on his own a bit more now that he can hold swords and stuff. Leo still steals the odachi from Draxum, but his use of it is limited to only slicing, though if Donnie swings it, Leo can influence the portals if he's connected to Donnie's shadow.

[Sidenote: when the brother unlock their Ninpo, Leo unlocks his as well, granting him ability to use his portals himself. He can also do the funky teleportation thing.]

---

Leo's out on his own one night when he see's Usagi hanging around the turtle fam's lair. He appears to the rabbit and surprisingly, the rabbit doesnt freak out. Usagi and Leo are quick friends. Leo tells Donnie about Usagi and convinces Donnie to meat the rabbit and eventually, Usagi becomes an honorary turtle, just like April.

---

(Leo is still Casey's future sensei, but by then they had found something, a charm or a potion, that made him physical. When Casey asks about him, Donnie avoids eye contact, but everyone else is confused.)

(The key is snatched by the foot clan because Raph couldn't get to it fast enough. Leo tries to blame himself because if he wasn't so scared he could have used his portals to get it. Donnie won't let him blame himself, and neither will anyone else when they finally meet him.)

During the movie events, Leo connects to Raph's shadow when Mikey and Donnie get flung off. He makes himself physical and pushes Raph toward his brothers. He also snatches Raph's wrist comm. Raph is too panicked to consider what just happened and jumps off to catch his brothers.

He shouts for CJ to close the portal. Casey immediatly follows the command shouted by his sensei's voice before he can process it. Leo stays physical long enough to keep Kraang distracted, then ducks into the shadows.

With the whole Prison Dimension being basically one big shadow, Leo is able to stay hidden after the portal closes. He doesnt heal in the shadows, but his inuries don't worsen. It takes about a year until Leo finds his sword and portals himself home.

-

Donnie, April, and Usagi are all a fucking wreck in a way no one understands, no matter how much they explain Leo and his predicament. Raph explains that he was pushed by a shadow and Donnie breaks down on the spot. Because even though Leo would never meet the fam, he'd still sacrifice himself for them.

For months, Donnie begs Casey Jr to tell him how Future Mikey opened a portal, but CJ won't say anything past explaining how it killed Future Mikey.

Donnie doesn't stop looking for any sign of Leo, but after months he has no choice but to move on. Leo's sword was put in a glass, guarded case after Donnie tried to use it to portal to Leo.

Sometimes Donnie sits in a dark corner and talks to himself.

Then one day, the alarm attached to Leo's sword goes off. Everyone thinks it's Donnie trying to portal again, but they all rush in to see a shadowy Leo injured, on the ground. Donnie breaks down on the spot, but tries to pull himself together enough to help with bandaging what they can see of Leo's wounds.

Leo wakes up to his family around him and finally lets himself meet the rest of his brothers.

[dilutedconfusion]

Lost Star

Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 2) Real World AU

Sexy smexy horrible gut wrenching angst.

Summary: You and Kid get to have a bittersweet phone call about why you haven’t been seeing much of him lately. Kid knows why and its eating at him from the inside out. Yet you’re still lost in a forest during winter, drunk off your ass. Kids a liar and a lover. You’re a lover and loser. Something bad is going to happen. But for now lets read about Kid crying <3

Warnings: None???

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 1 Part 2

Tags: @aynfp @shamblespirate @likeeliterallywtf @tulipps-maehem @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

Between the silence and the sound of Kids revved up car you stuffed your body inside yourself. Weaving your bone-cold arms textured with goosebumps through the sleeves of your jacket to meet your center. You shoved your head below the collar as well, effectively using the warmth of your heart guided into your breasts to make a somewhat efficient self-heating system. Putting the call on speaker mode and getting at least one percent warmer.

“I feel like a turtle…” You mumbled softly, a growling pain rousing your stomach. A hearty burp of old tequila shots bubbling in your throat.

Kid had gone awkwardly silent. He told you he would never hang up in your time of need but as you listened to him shove his gear into drive, the loud echoing of the underground parking lot whirring endlessly, you couldn’t help but feel more alone than ever.

It doesn’t help that I’m in a forest alone.

“Kid? Did you hear me? I said I feel like a turtle.” You repeated, hoping and praying to hear his voice again. You couldn’t get enough of it right now. If he wanted to recite the entire dictionary you would’ve let him. As long as you got to listen to his rasp deep voice drift you back into comfort.

Or drift me back to anywhere safe really…but I’d prefer to be safe with him.

“I heard ya. It was stupid so I didn’t respond.” You heard the soft click of his tongue just trying to sound annoyed like he always did. Like you were nothing but a bother and he didn’t know why he was friends with you in the first place. “I should be getting compensation for dealing with your ass I swear to god.”

He shifted his phone on its stand sitting idly on the dash. The profile picture of you flipping off the camera followed by the words “Little Shit” as your profile name stared back at him. His eyes unconsciously gliding to look at it despite the road ahead. Making him wish he hadn’t used that picture for your profile in the first place.

When I see her she isn’t going to look like that. Probably half frozen and crying if I take too long.

His annoyance wasn’t as pungent as it usually was. You could hear how he softly scratched his hair on the other end. Leading you to believe he wasn’t being serious because he never made fun of you to hurt you. But you couldn’t help but frown regardless.

“Don’t say that.” Your voice was soft and breathy. Floating up towards Kid in his truck. The roads were quiet and empty late at night. Kid lived in a big city but he was driving towards the rural south. He just had to hop onto the freeway, the warm streetlights hung like stars guiding him. Pressing on the gas a bit more fervently than the authorities would like. His truck roaring in response.

“Don’t be a baby. I’m serious Y/N I’m not letting you do something like this again. I’ll fucking lock you in your own house. Handcuff you to the goddamn radiator if I have to.” What once was worry was now turning into frustration. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that you of all people had done something as stupid as this.

Y/N’s lost in a forest drunk. Y/N’s lost in a forest drunk at night.

A little part of him wanted to scream. Wanted you to stop acting drunk even if you were and take this seriously for just a moment. He was worried and it felt like you couldn’t care less about your safety.

“Kid don’t say that. I don’t need you to baby me. You’ve never babied me before. I just…fucked up this time.” You chewed over your dry and chapped lips. The bright light of your screen fills up the small cloth cave you reside in. Trying desperately not to pay attention to the forest sounds around you along with the coldness of your ass against the ground.

Kid could nearly feel the guilt in your voice. Like the sharp edge of a knife delicately lacing at your own throat. Willing to cut out the wound of a problem that was you. It was disgusting. Kid didn’t want to hear it, but he couldn’t handle it. Not right now.

“Oh, you fucked up but so did every single one of those so-called friends at that party. If I ever catch you hanging around those small dick and brained sons of bitches again I’m fucking popping their eyes out.” His thick fingers clenched around the steering wheel a bit tighter. Amber eyes flickering into his mirrors to see nothing but the road and the lights of buildings behind him.

He felt twitchy. Like one jerk of the hand or one sound too loud could send him overboard. But the problem was he didn’t know what he would fall into if he did go overboard.

She went to a goddamn party alone. She put herself in danger. Why...why the hell would she do that?

“Their eyeballs? Eww, that's icky Kid. I only knew 3 people there anyway and it's not like I asked them to baby me. They didn’t expect it.” The sudden yet expectant sound of your voice threw Kid’s mind out of its spiral. Your voice sounded stupid. As if it was pitched up too high and taking a bit too long to find the right words. He listened to the slight flutter of your breath. The chatter indicating the sudden shaking of your spine.

She’s cold. Kid’s steering wheel groaned and squeaked in response. Nearly snapping it in half as he made a wide turn onto the freeway entrance ramp. “Well I didn’t expect to have to go on a rescue mission tonight but here we are.” He let out a huff of air, checking his mirrors with narrowed eyes before merging on.

Not another car in sight as he shifted into 5th gear, bringing his car up to a rolling 90 as quick as he intended to. “If I was there I would’ve watched ya. Keep you on a 10-foot leash just to make sure you and you’re dumbass don’t get hurt.”

“You wanna leash me? That’s kinda kinky Kid.”

Kids eyes instantly rolled so hard he could have sprained something. “Oh fucking hell be quiet.” He heard your small little giggle. That quick shake in your chest was so warm it made his permanent frown disappear for only a moment. “I can see your shit-eating grin from here asshole.” Another rouse of your laughter came from the other end of the call. That hard exterior of his cracking under the pressure of that stupid laugh again for the millionth time.

Maybe she’s okay. She’s cracking jokes but…she always does that when she’s down.

You wiped the small tears out of the corners of your eyes. Pressing your legs closer to your chest as quick burst of wind breezed past you. “So basically what you’re saying is you wish you would’ve come to this party with me? That woulda been swell. I’ve missed you a lot lately. They even played some of our songs.” You recalled the night with a mix of sullen worry and unbridled passion. Remembering how you danced horribly only to catch yourself looking around for a man who wasn’t even there. A vision of him stuck in your peripheral vision like a dreamy visage.

Kid took a moment to respond. Opening his mouth just to close it again before his eyes twitched from the weird feeling growing in his chest. “I don’t have time to be messing around with a bunch of people I don’t care about and neither do you. You’re not a fucking party animal Y/N. I’ve seen your shy ass freeze up anytime some rando tries to flirt with ya.”

Though your voice was sweet, Kids was harsh. There was nothing he could do but spit out everything as if it tasted horrible. She needs to cut this shit out. One more ‘I missed you’ and I'm going to pop a blood vessel.

“Kid, I keep telling you that they weren’t flirting. I don’t know what people think they're doing but it ain’t flirting. Or at least it doesn’t feel like it.” A small wave of relief fell over him when you chose to talk about the flirting thing. A valid misdirection from the obvious elephant in the room.

“It doesn’t feel like it because you double-guess everything people say to you. I’m supposed to be the ‘emotionally unperceptive wall of a man’ or whatever you call me. Not you.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Chewing your lips with a smile and staring at his contact information on your screen. Nothing but a tulip emoji as his name and a picture of him dead asleep with a dick drawn on his face.

“Well, don't you know me so well?” Kid could basically see the sassy tilt of your head as you said that. Staring at him with those vivacious eyes that made his stomach turn into knots.

“I do.” He said simply, nodding his head and puffing out his chest for no one to see. It was instinctual at this point. Putting on a show of confidence for you just to laugh and make fun of him.

“Which sorta makes me think you’re not so unperceptive huh?”

Kid backed off on his confidence show almost immediately. Swallowing hard he stared at the road ahead of him. What once was 4 lanes of a highway became 2. Giving him a sign that he was getting closer to you. “Well sorry I know my friend so well. I’ll make sure to forget everything you say to me like I used to.”

His own words nearly soccer-punched him in the gut. Remembering how he was when he first met you. You were just some girl he had to sit next to during one of his general classes in college. He barely even remembered your name no matter how many times you talked to him. He’d roll his eyes and stare off into space. You’re string of words seemingly endless no matter how much he pushed you away. Then after being separated by schedules, he ended up walking in on you working the register at his favorite music shop. Lined with records and CDs he found himself going back to that shop for more than just good music.

“You really were such an ass.” Your voice was a lot quieter as you spoke. A semi-unconscious haze of nostalgia bubbling around in your head. Kid knew what he did was wrong. In fact, he went home after finally having a genuine conversation with you to cuss himself out in the mirror. He had never told you that. How much he regretted not having you in his life a lot earlier than he did.

But Kid didn’t tell you a lot of things.

Like the dangerous extent of the illegal scams he’d run at his mechanic shop. Or the sleepless nights he’d get worried about everything and sometimes even you.

Kid wasn’t a mirror. He wasn’t reflecting exactly what he was like he should be. Instead, he was distorted. His lack of arm and scars not from a bad car accident but the result of all those shoot-outs and fights he’d been in. His guns and knives littered all over his body yet hidden so he didn’t scare you. His hands and chest covered in warm blood just to be washed off until his skin burned before you’d come and see him. His absence in that mirror, in your life, a sign that maybe he didn’t care and never did. But again, Kid knew if he was anything he was definitely a liar.

“I know and I already apologized.”

Yet that’ll never be good enough. Kid could feel his jaw tightening. His head cursed to be heavy with guilt as it hung on his shoulders.

“Well, I still remember you ignoring me. What happened was a strike of luck anyway. Gosh, I nearly hid in the back when you first walked into my job because I didn’t want to get friend-blocked again.” You were happy as you said that thankfully. If you could see his face you wouldn’t have been.

Well, I’m glad you didn’t give up on me but maybe that's just me being selfish. Kid couldn’t manage to say that out loud. Leaving you hanging on your words as you listened to him silently drive. It felt awkward as if you had said something wrong. Something to piss him off. Your mind scattering and eyes flickering to find something else to talk about. Something to keep him from ignoring you like he used to.

“Ya know my phone background is of us at that concert from last year. The one where I did your makeup all cool.” You mumbled softly, popping your head out of your jacket to check on your surroundings. You pressed the small button on the side of your phone. Your lock screen popping up with a picture of you and Kid side by side in a sea of people. The photo slightly blurry from the two of you jumping up and down while the stage of performers stood in the back.

“I remember that,” Kid mumbled his voice a bit more horse than before. He could nearly see the red lights, dark eyeshadow, and big grins of that night. But what was once sweet now felt distinctly bitter.

“I swear if you hadn’t been there I would’ve gotten trampled in that pit. I’m not small by any means but you give me the scary dog privileges I need.” You let out a chuckle that nearly tore at Kid's heart. His chest getting tighter and his throat dry.

Kid. This is not the time. Stop thinking about it and just drive. He had no idea why this was affecting him so badly. He’s been living with the idea that he needed to let you go for months. It haunted him any time you managed to creep up into his mind. But he never once felt like this.

I'm tired. It’s late. She’s out there and alone. I'm just being delusional.

“I’m not your fucking guard dog.” Was all he could say or maybe that was all he was good at. Complaining whenever you said stupid shit instead of saying what was really on his mind.

“Oh hell yeah you are. That and my best friend. We drank and ate like 2 big ass pizzas together on your couch. Killer nearly knocked us upside the head cause we wouldn’t go to sleep. You kept making me laugh so hard my fucking ribs hurt. Plus I swear I was shitting nothing but grease for like 2 days after that.” You let out a weak laugh, head and heart swirling in a warm sweet remembrance.

Kid could envision that night as if it was happening now. You in those loose pants and a tank top. Hair messy from all the head banging. You sat beside him on the couch while you both played video games until the sun came up. The colorful glow of the TV on your skin now shiny from washing off all your makeup. The way you always managed to smile when you looked at him.

I’m going crazy.

“Didn’t need to know that last part but yeah…it was nice. Maybe…we should do that again.” Kid couldn’t stop his mouth from saying something stupid. He couldn’t lie like he always did. It was all he was good for but now? Well, right now he was hoping you’d forget everything he’s saying.

The minute he said that you felt yourself light up. As if all that worry in your heart had disappeared within an instant. “Really? You actually wanna go to another concert with me? I basically had to beg you last time. Plus you know I...haven’t seen much of you lately.” You were downright cheery over the simple fact that he wanted to see you again. To see you at all.

I’m just hurting her. I can’t. I won’t.

“You...know I’ve been busy but y-yes I could maybe go to another concert with you. So quit making a big deal out of it.”

Goddamn it Kid what the hell?! I can’t go to a concert with her! Why the hell am I lying? He ground his teeth together. Trying to let out an exasperated yet silent sigh. His eyes slowly became foggy as he drove. Though he couldn’t tell if it was out of guilt or because you lit up the second he mentioned seeing you again.

Is she really...that desperate to see me?

“Well, I’m glad because I don’t think I could live without ya. I’ve been hanging out with a bunch of nobodies in your absence. But clearly I’ve gotten really reliant on torturing you with my presence. You’re like…my favorite person in the world after all.”

No. Kid inhaled sharply through his teeth. What once was foggy now became a pool of tears in his eyes. All the muscles in his broken chest contracted. Holding himself back from letting out a wry whimper of pain.

“Oh, you’ll f-find somebody.” Kid couldn’t help but stutter as he spoke. His voice surprisingly normal but his breath hitching uncontrollably. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he shook it off. Hoping and praying you were too drunk to notice through the phone.

“But that somebody wouldn’t be you and I want to be with you.”

You sounded so innocent. So pure and unfiltered as you spoke. As if you meant that from the bottom of your heart. That honesty you held was something only you could do. Kid wanted to be mean. Kid wanted to give you a reason to hate him. But he never could.

He was terminally unsuccessful and it was killing him on the inside. So once again silence was in only answer.

“Kid...when you get here will you give me a big hug? I’m shivering and I don’t know what to do about it.” You broke through that silence again. Wondering why he seemed to hate it when you praised him.

Does he…really hate it that I care about him so much? You sniffled softly through your nose. A creeping wetness in your eyes from either the breeze or something much more delicate. Your soft eyes fluttering between the forest and the low light of your phone. You hadn’t necessarily noticed the pain Kid was in. Far too worried about the silence that he kept creating between you too. As if you were annoying him once again.

Does he…hate me?

Kid could tell that he upset you. All that joy you had was seemingly sucked right out of you. His crying stalled into just a complete exhaustion. Mind wandering to anywhere else but here. “Do...Do some jumping jacks or whatever I don’t know. I’m not going to be there until a bit so just…” He trailed off, checking the time on his dash. It was taking him a bit longer than he thought to get there. No matter how fast he went it didn’t seem fast enough. His eyes caught the passing by 45 mph signs in his headlamps. But of course, he wasn’t going to follow it.

If I hit a deer, I hit a deer. If I get pulled over, I get pulled over. But I’m not stopping till I get to her. That thought pushed him forward, forcing himself to focus on something else other than the pain in his heart.

“But if I do jumping jacks I might barf. You won’t hug me if I smell like barf. I need to be in peak hugging condition.” Your voice came out in a whiny complaint. Your limbs becoming noticeably more and more numb. The huddling not doing much as the wind started to pick up until it howled ominously. You closed your eyes softly for a moment, feeling a bout of sleepiness on you. A wet dampness seeped into your clothes as you felt a bone-rattling chill crawl inside your chest.

“I’ll still fucking hug you. I’ll probably have to carry your clumsy ass back to the car anyways. So if you’re going to barf do it before I get there.” Kids annoyance was only a mask for his worry. He could tell you were getting tired. He could tell he didn’t have much time left.

What…what happens if I don’t make it in time? It was cold. No snow on the ground but winter regardless. A warmer day followed by a crippling cold night.

“What if I get barf in my hair though? I need someone to hold it up.”

A vision of you shivering with blue-tinted skin, chapped lips stinging from the pile of barf next to you, and tears slipping past your eyes came to Kid's mind. He felt his heart lunge so much he coughed spastically. Rubbing over the skin above his heart and lungs before he spoke.

“Y/N…just please don’t barf and please stay warm. I’ll be there soon.” His voice was weak but reassuring. A testament to his utter desperation and hope that this would end well.

He pressed down on the gas even harder. Pushing his car to its limits as he sped down the bumpy road.

Nothing was going to stop him from saving you. Not his stupid feelings and not any other distraction that might come his way.

A rather large drop of slushy water smacked into his windshield. Followed by a distant but bright strike of lightning splitting the sky.

His eyes flickered between the fading light and yet another splash of water hitting the glass. His blood going cold as the loud rumbling of thunder echoed in his ears.

Oh no.

A/N: Okay so I realize that the whole ‘Kid being a mechanic and also doing bad things and worrying about y/n’s safety’ has been done many times before. I love that shit and I eat it up everytime. But this is my take on it and though it’s only a small sliver of their story, I hope it holds just as many emotions. I think there is only going to be one or maybe 2 more chapters after this? It really depends on how much I write in the next go but either way SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN. It’s going to get worse and then downright despicable. I apologize in advance.

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, d'Avergni & Partners, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

[jusmango-shake]

That isn't very cash money of you, Cupid.

Pairing: 03!Donnie x Reader

Fictype: Songfic

Mood: fluff, crack(?)

WARNINGS: self deprecation, SSWEARING 😎, corny feelings Ew romance yucky, reader is in denial, mention of poison(metaphorically)

🥭: I'm SO SORRY FOR GOING OFFLINE FOR SO LONG, I hope y'all can accept this... (Totally not because I suddenly had a billion ideas for Don and had to write them xP)

★Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy,

I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly.

I'm in love and it's a crying shame..

And I know that you're the one to blame.

As you laid down on your bed, tossing and turning as you struggled to fall asleep. A faint glow of pink visible in the almost pitch black room.

You sat up, groaning while you rubbed your eyes. Taking your phone off of the desk it was currently charging on.

“Real dick move, brain.” you grumbled, looking at the current time.

12:45 PM.

You squinted, the light from your phone almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. The blush finally visible on your face.

Rereading your conversation with Donatello on the handy T-phone he so kindly gave to you, the corners of your lips curving up ever so slightly as you recalled your memories with the Purple Turtle.

He had been running rampant in your mind throughout the week, and you had been yet to catch him.

You sighed, laying back down as you faced the ceiling. You had to accept the fact you liked him sooner or later, why not be in denial for a bit longer?

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Maybe it was because you had a thing for smart guys, or maybe it's because of his stupid dorky smile, maybe it was because he only had said smile whenever you were around, or maybe—

You blinked, burying your head into your hands as you groaned. Your friend looked at you with growing concern.

"You alright?"

You waved your hands dismissively,

“Yeah, I'm doing great.”

"You ssuureee?"

“i'm very much sure, thank you.”

"Maybe it's that Donatello guy you keep mentioning."

“shut up— no it isn't,”

Your friend has gotten increasingly closer to you, wiggling their eyebrows as they shoved you playfully.

“—Oookay maybe it is.”

"Tell me more?"

“no.”

★I can't do my homework and I can't think straight, I meet her every morning 'bout half past eight.

It wasn't very well hidden, practically everyone in your friend group knew something was up.

You'd randomly message them that you wouldn't be able to make to the hangout followed by some bogus explanation.

Sometimes when they made their way to your house they'd see you sneak off somewhere.

Once you'd almost been caught entering a manhole just to get to the lair, or to Donnie to be more specific.

You did not like it whatsoever.

★I'm acting like a lovesick fool, You've even got me carrying your books to school.

Conversation flowed smoothly as you helped Donnie carry some spare parts from the junkyard, he ranted about some machine he would make with said parts.

At this point you felt as if time itself had stopped, all you could hear was the sound of his voice echoing off the buildings as you two walked through the alleyway.

The road was quite crowded near the garage, it would've been impossible to get in without getting caught. Manhole it is I guess.

You hadn't even noticed that you've already arrived at the manhole cover.

You absentmindedly followed his figure and he knelt down to take off the cover, looking at you expectantly.

He cleared his throat before gesturing to the open manhole.

“wh— oh, uh.. my bad.” you murmured,

"I'll go down and you hand me the parts, sounds good?" He smiled, if only he knew the effect that had on you.

“..yeah.”

You watched as he placed the spare parts on the ground, then moved to go down the ladder.

Once he gave the signal you grabbed the bucket next to the hole, a rope tied to it so it would be easier to get stuff down if it was too heavy or big to get down normally.

You placed as many parts as you could fit in the bucket before grabbing the rope and slowly letting it down the long hole.

Once Donnie was done getting all the parts out he tugged lightly on the rope, letting you know he was done.

After repeating that process more times than you could count, you slowly ascended down the ladder. Once again carrying the spare parts while you made your way to the lair, Donnie humming some tune he heard while Mikey was watching the Television.

You didn't like how you could practically smell Donnie from how close you two were, maybe it was because he smelled like sewer or maybe it was because of the fact it made your heart race. Probably both anyway.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he started talking.

"Hey, (Nickname)?"

“uh— yeah? What's up?”

"I just wanted to thank you for helping, it means a lot to me." He beamed up at you.

You looked away, already feeling the heat creeping up onto your face.

“Psh.. it's no Biggie, it's the least I could do as a... Friend.”

It hurt to say that, partially because it was true.

Donnie chuckled, nudging you playfully.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad to have you as a friend then."

That hurt even more, and this time, it's because he could never see you more than just a friend.

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Your heart raced whenever you even just thought of him, and it broke just as fast. You knew deep down that he'd never like you back, (did you though?). if Cupid really did exist, he's cruel.

You clutched your beating heart as you hid behind a wall, trying your hardest to calm it down before going back to meet Donnie again.

All this from just grazing each other's hand? Maybe you really were pathetic, or maybe you're just touch starved. Could be both.

You knew Donnie was just sitting there watching TV, completely unaware of what power he had over you. You felt bad lying to him, you usually told him everything. But not this, it's not worth losing him over some feelings. Right?

★You mixed me up for good right from the very start.. Hey now, go play Robin Hood with somebody else's heart!

When you first met Donnie, it was like an arrow went straight through your heart. Maybe you're over exaggerating it, maybe.

It's like the arrow was laced with poison, slowly infecting every part of your body without you knowing it, and lastly, it infected your heart.

You always had a feeling you liked him from the start, maybe it was the fact you couldn't accept liking him more than just platonic liking.

It got harder and harder to push back down into the deep depths of your heart. The last straw was when it finally hit you straight in the face, you loved him. And you couldn't do anything about it, neither could you decide whether he'd reciprocate or not. It was killing you slowly, just like poison.

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down.

By no means did you think you even slightly deserved him, Donnie's a really sweet guy. He deserved more than some person who can't even come to terms with their own feelings.

Still didn't stop your heart from doing a backflip into a cartwheel into a handstand flat-back though.

Every time you saw him, your heart just decides to do a whole workout routine inside your chest, the butterflies in your stomach don't help either.

★Well since I kissed her loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine~

Hey hey, set me free?

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!

It did not give you any sense of pride to admit this but, on more than one occasion, you have fantasized about kissing Donnie. It embarrassed you to no end. (Stupid teenager hormones)

Maybe one day Cupid would decide to have mercy on you, and finally let you move on. Doesn't seem like he's going to, though.

Maybe for one day you could stop being such a weirdo for Donnie? Just for one day?

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down!

The fact that you always felt happier whenever you were just with him, even being in the same room could dramatically change your mood didn't help at all.

You hated always wanting to be near him, his entire existence feeling like a drug to you. Time always seemed to fly faster than when you weren't with him, you could never get enough of his rambles, anything he made amazed you, you hated it. You hated being in love.

And you hated the intense feeling of dread whenever you even thought of confessing to him, being rejected by all means was not on your to-do list. Neither was ruining your perfectly good best-friendship with Donnie.

★Well since I kissed his loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine.

You got so caught up in your train of thought that you hadn't even considered the fact Donnie liked you back, maybe it's a defense mechanism set up by your brain so you couldn't dig an even deeper pit.

Donnie watched you do your homework as you fail to notice his longing, he's loved you for a long time already. But by his logic you would never like him back, who would wanna date a green sewer turtle? Living in the sewers is bad enough. What about being a mutant?

He quickly corrected an answer you had written down, his arm coming up from behind you to take a hold of your hand. He erased the previous answer and wrote the correct one.

He knew he couldn't hold your hand like this for too long or it'd be suspicious. Though the both of you craved each other's touch.

You were the only person who would actually listen to his rambling instead of just nodding along and pretending you were. You would ask questions that would spark new conversations, you came to him for answers. You looked for him when you needed help.

You genuinely enjoyed his ramblings. You enjoyed his company though he had nothing more to offer than just knowledge and machines he had made. He didn't even need to talk sometimes, you would just watch him do whatever he was doing. Offering help when he needed it.

Donnie only snapped out of it once you had begun waving in his face.

“—nnie, D? DonTron? Donatello? The turtle in purple? Donasaurus? Downtown Donsville?”

"Yeah—? Sorry I was- uh zoned out."

“could you help me with uh— number twenty five?” you scratched the base of your neck.

"Twenty five—? Didn't I already explain it to you? Like, eight times?"

You laughed sheepishly, turning around to face him.

What you expected was a look of disapproval. as much as Donnie loved explaining things, no one wants to repeat themselves. what you hadn't expected however, was that Donnie was actually much closer than you thought.

As soon as you turned around, you were met with Donnie's lips. You had accidentally kissed him.

As you pulled away, two fingers on your lips while your whole face flushed a shade of red.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you avoided Donnie's gaze like the plague, what if he hated it? What if he doesn't wanna be friends anymore?

Your thoughts were immediately shut up by Donnie clearing his voice.

"I'm sorry if this isn't the right time but— can we do that again.?"

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you took in the significantly darker shade on his face. You thought of what he'd looked like flustered, it was even better than you'd imagined.

“i— Yeah, I guess..?”

You held your breath in as he leaned in closer, your face scrunched up as you felt his breath fan over your face.

You peeked through one of your eyes when you felt him move away, a bashful expression mixed with a hint of sadness behind it on his face.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing over at you.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, ya kno."

Shit— that's not-

Before you could think of anything else, it was like someone pressed autopilot in your mind.

You quickly spun around in the chair, extending your hands to his face. You gently cupped his cheeks as you leaned in,

Donnie's eyes opened in shock as he felt your lips softly kiss the edge of his lips, you had missed his mouth entirely.

You pulled away anxiously, your face heating up at the fact you completely ruined the moment by missing his lips.

Your eyes frantically searched his eyes, trying to catch some semblance of a hint that everything was fine and that Donnie doesn't hate you.

Unfortunately for Donnie, he was too dumbstruck and lovestruck to form a coherent sentence.

The only thing he managed out wasn't even a word, all he did was shoot out a lazy smile.

You sighed in relief, happy that at least he enjoyed it.

While you turned back around to continue doing your homework, you were interrupted by a familiar green hand.

"Maybe one more?"

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

A few days afterwards, he finally confesses, and by confesses I mean he builds a robot out of spare parts to confess for him. Partially because he's too shy to do it himself and also because he wanted to impress you as well.

And after that was just a hazy blur of study dates and lovey dovey stuff, as Mikey so kindly put it.

You held Donnie's hand as you two watched the stars on top of a random building, you listened as Donnie pointed out every constellation he could see and facts about every star that was apart of each one.

"Did you know that Sirius is the brightest star we can currently see? With our bare eyes?"

You chuckled, gently caressing Donnie's hand with your thumb.

"But I'd have to disagree with it, yknow why?" He added, sitting upright as he gazed down lovingly at you.

“No, why?” you sat up as well, looking at him questioningly.

"Becauseee.. you're the brightest star I've ever seen." He grinned at you.

You grinned back, a light blush adorning both of your cheeks.

“You're such a cornball, Donnie.”

"Yeah, but I'm your cornball."

“Donnie!”

"What?"

You two laughed, smiling lovingly at eachother.

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

[kookies2000]

I am now working on chapters 3 to 5 of The Smile Behind the Crown (Digital Wonderland AU.) I did this to myself. I can't stop!!!!! I'm running on pure adrenaline here!!!! Take a sneak peek to chapters 4 - 5!!!! MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS SO FAR!!!!

@endomentendo you put this curse on me!!!

@it-came-from-an-orchard I have to tag her now on anything Wonderland related.

#########

Ann is a teen at a boarding school with her brother Randy and friend Chatter.

#########

If this boarding school was huge on the outside, the inside was even bigger. Glass ceiling in the lobby. The stained windows were as big as trees and created rays of multiple colors. The sunlight made everything inside sparkle like the stars at night. The floor looked polished and white like the moon above. And what caught her attention the most was the chandelier above all the students. Silver, white, and blue crystals. But that wasn't the reason it stood out. It was the ticking clock that hanged onto the middle of the chandelier. Swaying back and forth and rocking the chandelier with it. Creating a storm of ticking and clanking sounds in the lobby. It was oddly calming to hear it.

###########

"Oooooh! What's this?" Jax zoomed past her curtains and stuffed himself into her closet.

"Jax! You can't just wonder around so carelessly!" Ann ran to her closet and opened the door. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost made her laugh out loud.

"Your aunt really packed you....... this?" Jax had put on one of the dresses Susan gave her. The purple one with a turtle neck and ruffled sleeves. It looked oddly good on him when he walked out and twirled to the mirror. Giving a few poses as he checked himself out.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Ann had forgotten about her annoyance. Whenever she thought a smile was impossible for her, he found a way to bring it back. Just like when they were kids, he always found a way to make her smile in the darkest of days. Well, making the impossible possible was always his thing. She should know this by now.

##########

"Chesires are children's tales." The student slammed Randys book shut.

"We don't know that," Randy was annoyed by this kids rude talk. He stood up and roughly stuffed his book into his backpack, "Hundreds of years ago, the White Kingdom had sightings of unkown creatures who can disappear at will."

"Ooooooo, how interesting," the boy rolled his eyes and opened another book, "A disappearing creature! It's not like we haven't discovered hundreds of those already."

"Chesires are different! They have healing abilities, their saliva can heal!" Randy was ready to list the abilities.

"Ew." The boys face scrunched up in disgust.

"Evaporation, levitation, conjuring things, shape-shifting-" Before Randy can finish his list, the boy slammed his book shut. The loud noise echoed in the garden, causing many students to look their way. Randy sunk on his bench for a moment, looking up at the boy in shock.

"I...... don't...... want to hear....... anymore talk about chesires." The boy said firmly, his teeth grinding together from the anger he felt, "We are doing a project on creatures we've discovered in Wonderland, not made up creatures of the night from children's books. Parents only made them up to scare kids in behaving!"

#######

"They're real?" Turtles' face slowly opened up into a shocked one. Her mouth hung low in disbelief while Ryphbons' mouth formed the biggest smile you've ever seen. So wide it almost stretched out of her face.

"They're real!!!" Ryphbon cheered to the point where the glass windows shook. Ann just groaned in pain and threw herself back in bed. She threw her blanket over her head and tried to go back to sleep, hoping this was a dream from her being ill.

"Awe, what's wrong?" She heard Jax voice above her. She groaned again, her hot breath filling under the blankets, irritating her sore throat more, "I just thought I should meet your roommates and make myself welcome. Since we'll be seeing each other a lot in this fancy little school of yours."

#########

"Oh, for the love of......... who put footprints on the ceiling!?" The principle demanded in a voice that traveled across the school. She pointed straight up to reveal dark marks on the ceiling and chandelier, "I told you all, curfew is at 10pm! No one should be tap dancing around here at that hour!"

The principal looked around the crowd of students who were all looking at her in fear. Her eyes scanned every single one, trying to find the culprit. Until something registered in her mind.

"Where's Ann?"

As if on cue, they heard a loud yell coming from outside. Everyone looked out the window to the side where the bushes were planted. The scream came closer and closer, signaling the doll was coming in fast.

Soon, a loud shattering sound filled the air, and the doll crushed onto some students below. Causing them to moan in pain while she laughed. The principal and the students looked straight up to see she had come through the glass ceiling. Leaving a doll shaped hole with her plush body somehow.

"Well then....... now that Ann is here, let's start the assembly." The principal looked down at her papers and cleared her throat. Not even giving a second thought at Ann's tardiness.

##########

These are rough drafts. They may look different when officially released.

[dancingdonatello]

Hi hi! If you're currently accepting requests, might I ask for 2012 donnie with a male reader? Maybe they meet shortly after he decided he was going to get over april, and his entire family has an "ah shit here we go again" moment when they see how donnie interacts with him lmao. tyvm <3 !!!

2012 donnie x male reader

Donnie’s brothers were… relieved.

No more ramblings about a girl. No more whiteboards filled with random facts about April. No more rantings about how her and Casey seemed just a little too close and how she should be with Donnie not him.

Most importantly, no more awkward interactions or “sweet chinchilla” moments.

And then Casey just had to bring you along.

It wasn’t planned. One day, he just strolled into the lair with you following along behind.

Immediately, all of them were on the defense, weapons drawn.

Casey was quick to defend your presence in the lair though

“Come on! He helped me beat up the Kraang!” Casey grabbed your shoulders. “Plus. Two guys with rad hockey skills on your turtle team? It can’t go wrong. Please! Let him join!”

“Turtle team,” Leo echoed, unamused.

“Please!” Casey shook your shoulders again. “I need one human guy on the team! Please!”

Raph actually growled at that. “How do we know he’s trustworthy? Just based on your word?” Leo nodded along.

“I think he’s trustworthy.”

Leo and Raph’s heads snapped to Donnie. They both had matching appalled looks on their faces.

“Thank you… um, Purple.” You smiled at him gratefully.

Donnie coughed, but Leo swore he heard a giggle.

“How? How do you think they’re trust worthy? You don’t even know them!” Raph got in Donnie’s face, demanding.

“They… just look like someone we should trust Donnie squeaked out.

Mikey and Leo shared a look.

Every day since then, you appeared in the lair. Raph was outraged at first, thinking that you had just decided that you own the place and you could come and go as you pleased, but he soon found out that Donnie had been inviting you down. Every single day.

Raph and Leo drew the line when he saw Donnie had a poster of you in his room.

“Where did you even get that?!”

“It’s for their hockey team… They take professional photos for them…” Donnie sighed dreamily.

“…Why were you at their school?” Leo crossed his arms.

“To watch their hockey game?” Donnie got defensive all of the sudden, mirroring his brother’s posture.

“Since when did you like hockey?” Raph asked.

“What’s with the interrogation, guys?!” Donnie snapped, oblivious at the looks his brothers gave him when he started putting heart stickers on the poster.

Oh no. Leo and Raph looked at each other, distraught. Not again.

…

You never did find out what happened to your poster.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 11: WATERSPORTS Aizen Sosuke 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: anon ➡✨ I hope you are having a wonderful day ✨ May I request the watersports kink? Aizen x Fem reader. I believe I read that it can be complemented with other kinks so perhaps overstimulation?. I hope I was still able to get the kink! This went away so fast!!! tw: watersports means urination is involved. if it's not your cup of tea, pls dni. soft overstimulation. omorashi/losing control. wetting on top of his lap, him doing the same. fingering. vag sex. soft humiliation. sweet dom aizen. wc: 1,7k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Aizen-sama, I… I can’t take no more” “That’s something is up to me to decide, (Name)-san”

Pleasing that man was for sure a suicide mission most of the times. He is fan of overstimulation, of playing with you as if you were less than a human… Sosuke was the king of humiliating you… and you, were pleased to comply.

Some nights were calmer, others, like this one, his stressed levels were high… very high. And he needed a quick fix before bed...

“(Name)-san, we lost another couple of hollow porotypes. Can you believe it?” he asked, rhetorically. He doesn’t really care about your opinion for that matter.

“Oh no, Aizen-sama… how should I help?” you ask, knowing well that scientific stuff wasn’t your area, but rather you were the president of the “pleasure department”.

“Well, I’m not sure if you can create a hollow from scratch… but I kinda feel like trying new stuff with you tonight…” he says, coming closer to you with that dark menacing aura that makes you wet and trembling.

You nod, awaiting for whatever “new stuff” he wants to try. In fact, by the way his hands are already all over your body, you know he is needier than ever. Tonight, things will be hot and wet…

“Stand up for me, (Name)” he commands. And you immediately comply. He turns you around, inspecting your clothing cautiously. You are wearing the uniform he chose specifically for you.

“Good… You will keep this on, until I tell you to take it off. Ok? For this I need you to obey me with no hesitation” he asks. “Yes, Aizen-sama. I will obey immediately” you answer, with difficulty, as his hand is already touching your crotch from behind.

Your uniform consists of a pleaded white skirt, a very futuristic looking top that resembles to an interesting bikini top with a turtle neck and long mittens covering your arms some centimetres over your elbows.  

“Please, come with me to the meeting room” he asks you, always so politely, trying to sound like you had a chance to say no… when that isn’t the case at all.

You follow him through the wide and sterile halls of Las Noches and soon you two reach the conference room in silence. Though your steps echo in the immensity of the place, there isn’t any more sounds.

The throne of Aizen, made of white stone, stands tall in the middle of the room. And by its feet, the round table where the Espada sit at.

He walks humming softly and sits down in his chair, while you wait for further instructions. When he is ready and comfortably sitting, indulging in his king -or God- fantasy, he pats his lap.

“Come here, (Name)…” he calls you.

You nod and quickly walk towards him. Aizen picks you up and sits you on his legs, fixing your body so that you end up sitting facing him. His hands run through your back, making your skin to react. He stops right by the small of your back and presses down for your sex to reach his. You are expected to wear nothing but a simple white panty underneath, the skirt was also for him to have easy access.

“Have you been drinking enough tea as I asked you today?” he asks you, petting your head and brushing your hair. He can be as sweet and protective, as cruel, and violent.

“Y-yes, Aizen-sama. I am a bit full, but I did” you tell, not lying. You were asked to drink the tea that the servants brought you through out the day with no questioning.

Sosuke is pleased. He takes his hand to your lower belly, a little bit bumpier than before as you are very full of liquids from the day.

“You are such a good girl to me, (Name). Look at this, you are always perfect for the things I want to try…” he perversely murmurs, kissing your forehead after. Aizen keeps rubbing your tummy sweetly, pressing down ever so slightly from time to time.

You purr a sweet <thank you> , in love with the soft caresses he is giving you. If being romantic is something he wanted to try, you are up for it… even if, you know very well, it’s just wishful thinking.

Aizen narrows his eyes, looking at you as if you were a cute little pet, already tasting the following.

His hand, slides up your thighs and into your core. Delicate fingers test the wetness of your panties; they are, as always, dampened in need.  But not enough for him to be satisfied.

“Let me check…” he whispers, moving your panty to the side and inserting two playful fingers that get instantly coated with your honeys.

You flinch and whine, as his index penetrates you and his thumb rubs your clit. He takes his time to play with you, starting slowly. Some minutes pass, and you are already humping on his lap for more, and the pressure of the many teas you were feed today start to feel uncomfortable.

He notices, even before you could say anything. Aizen knows your body perfectly fine, almost as if -and maybe perhaps- he created you. Index, and now middle too, hit the roof of your entrance, pushing the upper wall enough to make you feel like loosing control.

“Ai- Aizen-sama!!” you exclaim, trying to close your legs by pure instinct. You can’t. His legs won’t allow you to, and in fact, as he spread his, yours do too.

“Mh..? what is it, honey?” he asks, scoffing. Aizen knows, and he goes even harder…

You squirm, forcefully trying to tighten every muscle of your pelvic anatomy. You can’t lose control; you just can’t wet yourself over Aizen’s legs like a little girl… that would be worse than embarrassing; that could be the death of you.

Or that’s what you think.

“I… please. I need… I can’t hold it… I need to go to the bathroom, please” you beg, with teeth chattering and desperate tone.

“Oh… seriously? You might have drunk a lot more than what you should have, (Name)…” he mocks you, knowing he was the one to made you drink that much.

You keep squirming and trying with all your might to close your legs, failing miserably.

“Please, Aizen-sama… I need – nghh-“ you plead, moaning in pleasure and desperation as your nerves reach their peak and climax begins to hit. He laughs, as he keeps fingering you, with great dedication and so mercilessly fast. Beckoning motions inside of you, giving your sex pure stimulation and your bladder not enough space to exist. He forces you to lose control, mixing orgasmic release with urgency solving.

Drops of warm liquid mixed with sexual outburst gush and run through your legs and into his white hakama pants. He is not mad, in fact, Aizen grunts the moment he feels dampened. And he wants more, he needs more.

Your heated cheeks, your eyes closed, your fists closed over Sosuke’s shoulders. Spasming as you keep coming while relief yourself, in endless shameful pleasure.

“Good girl… I am not gonna punish you, you know that? I wanted this, it’s very hot to see you this desperate and so ashamed” he whispers in your ear, as you can feel his hardness trying to pierce his pants and your insides.

He moves you a little back, because you immediately hid your face on his chest. You wanna ask for forgiveness, but you can’t even speak. You are feeling as guilty and miserable, as absolutely pleased with was just happened.

“Look… look how wet you got me… it’s ok to piss yourself sometimes” he chuckles. A sincere laughter that makes your heart beat faster.

“Aizen-sama… I am mortified… let me please clean you up” you stutter.

Aizen ignores your words, as he is beyond pleased with your humiliation. “No, no… first I should get you as wet as I am… that skirt can be useful to hide your wet panties, but that’s not fair for me, right?” he tries to gaslight you, as if it was needed. He could definitely do whatever he wants, without even asking you about.

You accept your destiny. Anything he wishes to bless you with, it’s welcomed. More when it is about something coming from himself. You let him do as he please, moving back just enough for his now wet and almost see through pants to lower down.

His sex peaks out. It’s enough for now. It’s hard, dripping, throbbing. The vein that runs from the base to the tip, swollen in pure need as blood keeps filling it up.

“Come here…” he commands, pressing your chest against his. Your sex grazing the base, his tip covered by your pleaded skirt. “You can hump if you wish, too” he adds.

You nod, asking yourself if this is gonna become your next obsession… waiting for his warm blessing to wet your belly and clothes.

He kisses your lips and as he does so lustfully, he grunts in pure pleasure while he lets his urine flow. It is more than warm, being bestowed by his relief is like asking for a god’s favour to you. You praise this man, as you don’t praise no god. He is, to you, a supreme force of nature, with chocolate hair and sweet chocolate eyes, so powerful that even the most degrading act turns into something to be thankful for.

“It feels amazing, Aizen-sama…” you purr, as you begin to rub your labia against the endless fountain that’s his sex. A so personal and pure intimate moment, bonding in a so concupiscent form. It seems he is not stopping, feeling the drops form strings running through your hanging legs, forming puddles on each side of his throne.

“You like it, baby? We can do this every time you want, you know?” he moans, definitely weakened by how horny he is. Mind foggy, absolutely blank.

“Yes, Aizen-sama. I want it, please ~” you moan in his ear, as he now has finished and has lifted your ass to fall on top of his twitching dick.

Soon enough, and dripping wet, you begin to jump on his sex in a sweet and lustful career to make him come… 💖

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️

[bonefanatic]

a/n: once again up in my feels and coping with a deity turtle: peepaw edition. warnings for violent themes and other such yandere things. flirty god x war experienced reader. song doesn't fit for this one either but whtv anymore.

Gaze of The Deceitful Divine

(Don't Fear) The Reaper

⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

Your body aches. Blood coats your armor and the floor beneath you.

Not yours.

Your head is bowed, hands folded and eyes shut tight. The only sound is your own breathing and the cracking of the altar's candles.

Then there is cacophony of stomping and shouts and the beating of hooves on the ground. You bring your head down further, pressing it into the cool marble floor beneath you.

The sanctuary doors fly open and you can hear the clinking of metal armor and the echoes of orders being barked.

You remain in your position.

Your ungloved hands meet the familiar hilt of your blade. The grooves of where your fingers used to grasp it so desperately. You don't grab the blade, leaving it to rest before your god's likeness.

You blink your eyes open as the footsteps grow closer, looking up to the statue of your grace.

A massive marble structure of an impossibly beautiful mutant. His head is tilted downwards, looking down his snout with a smirk. His eyes are striking even after all these years the statue has endured.

The red is a familiar shade.

You squeeze your eye shut and bow your head again. The doors to the room slam open and your head the approaching footsteps.

A rope is lowered and then tightened around your neck. The man behinds you presses his knee against your spine and hisses in your ear.

"I didn't think it'd be this easy, you know."

You keep your eyes shut and don't respond to him. He growls, tugging the rope tighter. Your head begins to swim and then everything is black.

-

The surface beneath you shifts in a steady motion, you hear the sound of hood falls and huffing. Your fingers curl into the creatures mane as you begin to come to. You slowly begin to regain use your limbs and senses.

Then something touches your waist. Your very much unarmored waist.

You blink your eyes open quickly, eyeing the three fingered hands. The thumb is curled into the loops of the sash on your waist.

You furrow your brows.

It has been years since you'd worn robes, especially nice, silken ones like these.

You try to turn, but something stops you. That something then breathes a breath of hot air onto your neck and nuzzles close to your ears.

"Eyes forward, beauty."

The voice is gruff but with an almost playful edge to it.

You're then made suddenly aware of the force digging into your back and how it isn't your own plates of armor. Your body stiffens on instinct.

The hand on your waist then shifts between your shoulder blades.

"Uh uh. None of that. Relax, sweetheart."

You look down, opting to observe your surroundings. You're sat stop a large horse, the same color of char. It trudges dutifully through the shallow waters that surround you. Colorful fish dance around the legs of the steed.

The being behind you switches their hand to your shoulder.

"You're still rather tense, darling. Just relax."

The voice is almost hypnotic and part of you wants to comply. The other part of you is smarter than that. You jerk your body away from him. The movement doesn't seem to bother the horse.

"Stop that."

The hand wraps around your throat but doesn't squeeze. It still hurts though, there must be a bruise there.

"Perhaps you need a long nap, dearest, you still haven't slept off all that...resistance."

There's a slight pressure against your head that almost feels vaguely like a kiss, then the world fades to black once more.

[luckycharms1701]

[comes rolling into your askbox on a spinning swivel chair] Hey lucky!!! So, um, I was wondering if maybe, possibly, um, you could grace me with a little fic of a tentative first kiss between Raph and a female reader during a little game of one on one basketball. (Bayverse of course!) Pretty please with tiny Mikey shaped marshmallows and extra "I love your writing!!!" sprinkles on top?

Thank you!❤💙💜🧡

eeeeeeeeeeee avery!!!! this is so cute!!!!!! i will gladly do this for you, i don’t even need the marshmallows and sprinkles!! (i WILL take those though 😜)

i know the tiniest amount possible about basketball i’m so sorry

this prompt took me hostage. sorry it took so long lmao

The sound of the ball bouncing against the pavement echoes loudly in the alleyway as you focus on the handsome turtle striding towards you. He has a cocky grin on his face. You take a second to admire how good confidence makes him look before you roll your eyes and scoff at him. You assume a defensive position in front of the basket.

He stops at the half-court line, warm green eyes appraising you. His smirk softens into a smile that you only ever see when the two of you are alone. Distraction is about to become your worst enemy, you can tell. “Usual rules?”

“First to five points gets to pick their reward. Bring it on, Red!” He snickers as you beckon him over, then his face goes serious as he starts to really move. You brace yourself and watch his feet. Raph has never once gone easy on you, and you’ve never scored a goal on him, but you won’t let that little fact deter you. Maybe not today, but eventually you will defeat him.

He’s going to feint, you think as he barrels towards you. You lunge to the left just in time for him to deftly stutter step and spin around you on the right, launching the ball as he does so. You turn and watch in dismay as the ball sinks neatly into the net. One point to Raph.

The smirk on his face is unacceptable, even if the move was incredibly graceful and impressive, and you purse your lips as he tosses the ball to you. “Better luck next time, shorty,” he taunts, and despite the words his tone is almost sweet. A blush colors your face, but you ignore it in favor of steeling yourself for some fierce competition. He laughs when you playfully stick your tongue out at him. Then you jog to the line and turn to observe the turtle defending the goal.

Your hands tighten a little on the ball at the sight of him. His cocky grin is back in place as he bounces from foot to foot. He runs his thumb along his lower lip and your pulse flutters in your throat. No! Stop that! You’re playing basketball, not ogling your best friend!

The ball falls from your hands as you start to bounce it with your right hand. You approach slowly, as is your custom. No point in wearing yourself out sprinting towards him when you’re going to need all of your energy to try and get past him. Mikey’s advice runs through your head. Keep your breathing even, try not to dribble the ball faster when you’re getting ready to make your move.

He lunges for you at the same time as you break to the left, and for a moment you think you’re going to make it. Eyes on the goal!

The ball doesn’t meet your hand after the next bounce. You look down in confusion, then look up in time to watch the ball swish through the net. Raph literally managed to steal the ball from under your nose.

“That has to be cheating!” Your finger nearly meets his nose as you whip around to find him unexpectedly close. Immediately you lose your train of thought, arm falling to your side as you stare up at his grin.

“Not my fault you forgot to guard the ball,” he says as if it’s normal for the two of you to occupy the same space like this. You swallow and take a small step backward, giving him space to catch the ball bouncing towards you and you space to remember how to breathe. Was that two or three points for Raph?

You regain your equilibrium slowly while he continues to best you. It’s not long before he is turning to you, smile sharklike as the ball swooshes through the net for his fourth point. “You ready to buy pizza tonight?”

You purse your lips and flounce off to retrieve the ball while he laughs. He sets up across the court from you, prepared to defend the basket one last time.

Once again you watch him from across the court, twirling the ball in your hands and an idea in your head. His brow ridge raises as he beckons you forward, and you decide that your idea is worth a shot.

The ball falls from your right hand. You approach, slowly. Your breath is even. A feeling of rightness slots into place.

He steps forward. You break left. He reaches for you. You angle the next bounce away. His hand misses by a centimeter. The ball smacks into your left hand. You bring it to your center and shoot.

The only sound in the alleyway is the ball bouncing off the rim of the basket and into the net.

Before you can even register that you just scored a point, Raph lifts you up and is spinning you around in his arms. You grab his biceps for balance, looking down with wide eyes at his laughing face. “You did it! Ya got me!” His words shake the shock off, and you start to grin.

His face quiets a little at your smile, and you nearly gasp when his eyes meet yours. His smile has softened from excitement into fondness. He slows until he stops spinning, but you barely notice, arrested by the intense look in his eyes.

The two of you stay there, frozen in time, lost in each other. Your hands tighten on his biceps as he lowers you back to the ground. His hands stay on your waist, and you are grateful. You’re not sure if your legs could hold you up right now.

His eyes don’t leave yours as one hand comes up slowly. A single finger brushes against your cheek, and tears spring to your eyes at the tenderness of the motion. His smile quirks up in one corner as he repeats, “Ya got me, sweetheart.” The quiet whisper nearly knocks you off your feet. The tears spill over as you smile brightly up at him.

Raph leans in, as if bewitched. His eyes flick down to your lips and back up. Your smile widens at the hesitation, and you lift your face in invitation. His finger brushing tears from your cheek turns into his hand cupping your jaw as he lowers his mouth to yours.

His lips are so soft, barely brushing against yours. Almost as if he’s afraid of scaring you off. You close your eyes and release his biceps in favor of cupping his face. One of your fingers taps against his face in admonishment as you lean up on your tiptoes to get that little bit closer.

The hand that was on your waist slides around to your back, pressing you closer to him. His kiss gets that much firmer, that much more confident, and you soar at the feeling.

You chase his lips as he eases away, causing him to chuckle. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closing as he breathes deeply. You study his face as much as you can at this angle, in awe at the peace you find there. 

The peck on his nose startles him, and your clear, happy laughter rings out as you dance away from him. A smirk grows on his face as he stalks after you, and you shiver in delight at the implications of that expression. However, you aren’t going to go down without a fight. You are riding the double high of a score and his kiss, and no one has won that game of basketball yet.

You pick up the ball and turn to face him. “Ready to be defeated, Red?”

He blinks, then throws his head back and laughs. When he meets your eyes again, the heat simmering in him sends another shiver through you. “I’ve changed my mind. When I win, I don’t want pizza.”

Slowly, you smirk back at him. “Good.” You begin to bounce the ball.

~~~~~~~

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