#hahaha whoops my hand slipped

[audaciiaearchive]

❛  you’re  relentless .  ❜ ( for kit )

There's always a downside || Accepting

"Realized that a bit too late, didn't you? Doesn't do you much good to point it out when you're strapped to a gurney and all."

Kit snorts as they lean over Casper, the grin on their face almost like a sneer. The ambulance speeds down the highway, sirens and all, and Kit can't help but feel a bit vindicated. This is it, isn't it? Once Casper opens the storage, then it's over. Finally. It's about time, and victory has never tasted so sweet. "I mean, how else am I supposed to get your damn storage open, hm? You've gotten better at security, but I don't think you stopped to consider what lengths I'll go to to get what I want. Shame, that. Now, do you have anything else to say, or will you finally shut it?"

[psyche-spike]

Hahaha my hand slipped whoops I accidentally doodled this I swear hahahaha...

[longlivefanfic-net]

106 & 146 w nancy wheeler PLEASE dawg i need it so bad fr 🙁 also i know how ppl hc nancy as a dom but in my head that girl is my prissy princess and i need so bad to give her the sex that no man could 🤷🏽also it would be cool if you could fit in something to do w nancy x barb bc that’s a hc that I’ve had for a while :) & bi nancy finally accepting herself 🤭 okay yes im probably gg be spamming reqs like this every so often- much love !! -maxaroni & cheese (wow im so funny hahaha 😐)

Maxaroni! I feel like it's taken me FOREVER to get this finished for you (sorry!!!) but it is DONE. I hope you like it!

Prompts: “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.” and “Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh…no, I was just…” “Want some help?”

Content: sapphic reader; afab!reader; afab!reader x Nancy Wheeler; college roommates; smut, just like a lot of queer smut; some pining on the readers side because why not; Nancy Wheeler has a praise kink; mommy kink; Jonathan x Nancy

Word count: 7.1k (this was supposed to be short WHOOPS)

Summary: You meet Nancy the day you move into your shared college living space and spend the next few months desperately wishing to be between her legs. But she's got a boyfriend! And a plan for her life! Right?!

Nancy Fuckin' Wheeler

It wasn’t your fault you had fallen for your roommate. She had shown up on move-in day, had simply appeared, like the pixie she resembled, in the too-small room you were expected to share for the next nine months. Her brown hair had been curly, shorter back then, with bangs that brushed the tops of the lashes that framed her large, round eyes. She had smiled at you, striding across the tiny room with her hand already extended, and you had noticed the way her nose wrinkled, right at the tip, when she grinned and you were gone. “I’m Nancy,” she had said, picking up your hand to shake, firmly, like she shook a lot of men’s hands and was tired of being told she had a weak grip. “Nancy Wheeler.” 

You had played it cool for the first few weeks. This was your college roommate–if you didn’t fuck this up, she might end up being your best friend for life. It’s not like you could say, “Hi, Nancy, nice to meet you, I like girls and think you’re hot!” No. No way. And, if you were honest, you couldn’t risk isolating the only person you knew at Emerson. It was lonely in those big buildings, the bustling sounds of city life right outside every window yet feeling so far away. You wanted Nancy to be your friend, and you had thought that meant you had to pretend to be…like her. 

After a few weeks, though, you couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. Nancy had taken to having full conversations with you while she changed in the mornings, tossing her towel on her bed when she got back from the shared bathroom. She’d hold intense eye contact with you, chattering away the entire time about her classes, and her plans for the day, and whether you wanted to go grocery shopping with her that day, and her boyfriend, always her damn boyfriend. She’d stand on the other side of your narrow bedroom, completely naked, practically daring your eyes to slip from her face, and talk at a hundred miles a minute about Jonathan, this perfect Jonathan, who was always coming to visit that weekend but never actually showed up. 

When you cracked, she didn’t even react. It was during a rare moment of silence, her back still wrapped in her towel and turned to you as she pulled a top out of her neatly-organized closet. Your eyes were fixed on the back of Nancy’s neck; her brown hair was pinned up, and the pale skin of her neck still had beads of water from the shower darkening the fine curls that lay flat against her skin. You watched a drop of water slide down her skin, tangle in that one, C-shaped piece of hair that had fallen out of the clip, and felt your eyes glaze over; you wished, desperately, to be water, to be able to slide over her porcelain body, touching without touching, and find rest in her hair. “You know I like girls, right?” You had blurted out, the words throwing themselves desperately off your tongue to land with a disgusting smack in the middle of the room, as bare and naked as Nancy tended to be. 

She turned her head over her shoulder, barely glancing away from the shirt in her hands. “Oh! No, I didn’t know that.” You stood, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Nancy to call you names or tell you she was uncomfortable or tell you to request a room change but instead–instead, all you got was a slight blush over her cheeks when she turned back to you. “Did you–did you want me to change in the bathroom?” You shook your head, suddenly numb to the sounds of the cars in the street, the people yelling at each other on the sidewalks, the sounds of your other roommates making breakfast in the kitchen. It all disappeared when Nancy smiled at you–almost shyly, her lips only slightly tilting up at the corners before her eyes ducked down–and removed her towel. 

Afterwards, Nancy had taken it upon herself to make sure you knew you were welcome to bring over whoever you wanted. She eyed girls at the grocery store, the coffee shop, the diner the two of you frequented for late night pancakes, and nudged you, using those wide eyes to motion towards the girls she had picked out for you. She had good taste, you had to give her that–but the girls Nancy picked were always too tall, their hair too light, their bodies too full for who you really wanted. 

One night, late–or early, really–the two of you were nestled into the couch, swathed by blankets, Nancy’s pajama clad legs in your bare lap as you passed a carton of ice cream back and forth. The other roommates had gone out earlier, disappearing in a haze of hairspray and blue eyeshadow with promises to be back for lunch tomorrow. Nancy had declined their invitations, staying home and waiting for Jonathan to call. When he didn’t, you slipped downstairs, running across the street to the bodega for a can of Coke and Nancy’s favorite icecream. 

The night slipped away with the two of you there, sitting by the phone–”just in case,” Nancy said, biting her too-full bottom lip as she avoided your eyes. The conversation started innocently enough: You wanted to comfort her, and had started sharing stories of your own pathetic dating life. She laughed so hard she snorted, actually snorted, her nose wrinkling and her eyes creasing at the corners as she closed them, when you told her about the boyfriend you barely let touch you in high school, the “best friend” you had “practiced” with instead.

“I did that too!” She exclaimed, her voice high and breathless between the sweet peals of her laughter. Her feet pressed into the bare skin of your legs, toes digging against soft skin as you tried to ignore the goosebumps that raced down your arms. She was so warm, so full of light as she gazed at you, and the weight of her body, sprawled so casually over yours, felt so right, felt like home. “I did that too,” she said. “My friend, Barb–she was my first kiss. We said we were ‘practicing’ for when boys decided to date us.” 

You reeled in your shock, loosening the fingers that had immediately tightened around her ankles at the words. Nancy Wheeler–Nancy “Perfect” Wheeler, Nancy “4.0” Wheeler, Nancy fuckin Wheeler–kissed girls? Nancy eyed you from the other end of the couch, the television light flickering over her brows, still high with the glimmer of her laugh. Her cheeks were dark, a blush building there as she held your eyes with her own. “What?” She asked, her voice suddenly low. “You didn’t know I kissed girls?” She cocked her head, slightly, the movement exposing the side of her throat. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, aggressive thumps, as her eyelids lowered slightly. Her lips parted, just barely, and you watched the pink tip of her tongue wet the very edges of the lush bow. 

“Nancy,” you replied, your shaking voice betraying you, your body betraying you as it warmed under her gaze. “That’s…kinda gay.” Nancy rolled her doe eyes, smirking slightly. “Are you–Nancy, do you like girls?” She shrugged her pajama-clad shoulders, angling her head towards the TV. “Yeah,” she said, flicking a heavy-lidded glance back at you. “And guys. It’s not a big deal.” She said it so nonchalant, said it like she hadn’t just rocked your world and flipped it on its axis, like she hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. Nancy liked girls. Nancy could like you. Hell, it almost seemed like she was flirting with you. Except–

Except for Jonathan. Fucking Jonathan, who happened to call at that exact moment, like your thought of his name summoned him from California, the earsplitting ring of the telephone making both you and Nancy jump. She grabbed, desperately, at the receiver, picking up the heavy plastic and cradling it between her strong chin and shoulder. “Hello?” She whispered, breathy with her excitement. “Yeah. No, it’s fine, it’s– I can talk.” She looked over her shoulder at you and, if you didn’t know better, you’d have thought she looked guilty. 

You smiled, bitterly aware that it didn’t meet your eyes, and slid her feet off your lap. Standing up, you stretched–the two of you had been on that couch, skin touching skin, for hours now, and your joints felt stiff. Nancy watched, either unaware or uncaring that you could see her eyes fixate on the way your oversized t-shirt lifted with your arms, the hem dancing over the edges of your underwear. Heat pulsed through your core, a sudden, desperate throbbing, as her eyes met yours from where she sat on the couch. Your breath caught, slightly, in your chest, and you turned, heading to the bathroom for a cold shower–and, if that didn’t work, a few minutes alone with your hand and the image of Nancy, eyes wide and hungry, jaw loose like it was waiting for you to guide it. 

After your shower–and, yes, a few minutes of picturing Nancy’s face, Nancy’s body, Nancy’s neck and skin and hair and lips–you headed back to your shared bedroom. Nancy was no longer in the living room, not lazed over the arm of the couch while she giggled with Jonathan on the phone. You opened the door to your bedroom quietly, hoping she’d already be asleep. She was in her bed, a small bundle of limbs and dark hair tucked in amidst the lightly colored bedding of her twin-sized mattress. 

She wasn’t asleep. Maybe you had turned the door handle too quietly. Maybe she heard you and just didn’t care. Either way, when you closed the door with a soft snick, Nancy kept her eyes closed, continued to thrust her hips lightly against, you assumed, the hand hidden under her bedspread. You felt your heart stutter in your chest, your knees suddenly weak; she was beautiful, gorgeous, somewhere between frustrated and focused as she worked against her own skin. “Nance,” you whispered, and her eyes shot open, wide and all-too-innocent as she fluttered her lashes at you across the room. “Were you just masturbating?” 

“Um,” she replied, cheeks dusting lightly with a pink blush that matched her bedspread, “U-uh…no, I was just…” Nancy’s eyes flitted nervously around the room, her lips pressing together into a hard, embarrassed line, and you watched her throat bob as she swallowed. It was the swallow that did it, of all things. Your newfound best friend, your roommate, laying in bed with her dark curls spread under her angelic face had already driven you to the edge, but watching her throat move as she swallowed, wishing you could taste that swallow, finally hurled you over the precipice you had been dancing on since the first time you had lain eyes on her. 

“Want some help?” The words burst from between your lips, your body going cold and then hot as the blush raced under your skin. But the words were out, were hanging in the air between the two of you, and all you could do now was wait, your veins full of ice. Nancy’s eyes widened, her jaw relaxing and going slack so that her lips parted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the full, rosebud pink curves, wishing to be in between them; that’s why you couldn’t miss it when they shifted, just slightly, letting Nancy’s whispered “yes” glide under your skin. 

The ice in your veins melted, the sudden liquid rushing in your ears, as the heat you had just dulled sparked back to life in your stomach. You pushed down the excitement, the fear that swirled through your body; it was important, so, so important that you handle this right. You walked towards her tiny bed slowly, giving her plenty of time to say “I was kidding!” or “Nevermind,” as you shifted her blankets aside, sliding your half-clothed body into the bed next to her. Nancy shifted her face, just slightly, so that her oversized eyes were trained on your face when she blinked, a rush of blood rising to the surface of her cheeks. 

You looked down at Nancy’s slender body as you propped yourself up on one arm, pressing yourself closer to her under the warmth of the blankets. Jonathan–the mysterious Jonathan, who never came to visit when he said he would, who only existed to you as the framed photograph on Nancy’s desk–flashed in your mind, and you wondered if he was the reason Nancy was rutting her hips against her own hand; if he had spent those minutes you were in the shower whispering in her ear across the phone lines, making her desperate for him, for the feeling of his body pressed against hers. It doesn’t matter, you thought to yourself. I’m the one in bed with her. The thought made you blush, and your eyes skittered away from Nancy’s, floating down the outline of her body under the blankets she was covered by. 

“You don’t have to–” Nancy suddenly whispered, watching the heat building along your neck and cheeks, and you cut her off, jumping on the words and stubbing the burning embers of her rejection out before it could flame. “I want to,” you whispered back, the words shocking you as they pressed into the room, making their presence felt in your core with a brush of heat. Nancy just stared, doe eyes blinking rapidly as she pressed her lips together, swallowing again and–fuck, what you would have given to taste the inside of her mouth. She looked, pointedly, at her body, hidden under the bedspread, before flashing her eyes back to you. 

You pulled the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it slightly, before slipping your free hand over her body, her flat stomach and soft thighs, until it was over the hand she still had wedged between her legs. “Move your hand, Nancy,” you commanded, watching the blankets so you didn’t have to look at her. When she pulled her hand away from her sex, you could have sworn that, for just a moment, she let her fingers brush against your palm. 

Slowly, your fingers cupped around Nancy’s folds, luxuriating in the heat emanating from her skin. When you slipped your middle finger in between her lips, stroking once, you kept your face carefully turned away from hers, refusing to watch the shuddering gasp fall from her lips. Your finger was poised at her entrance, ready to push inside of her–or pull back–with the slightest hint of what she wanted. “Nance,” you said, your voice low and quiet. “This is going to feel better if I get you wet first.” You let the silence build between the two of you, stretching on for what felt like an agonizing length of time. “Can I kiss you?”

“O–okay.” The voice under you was timid, shy, unlike the Nancy you had come to know in the last few months. You angled your head towards hers, desperately seeking out her face in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Nancy was watching you, eyes eager as she licked her lower lip. The warm lap of fire in your core suddenly tightened, blazing as you leaned down, ducking your head to her strong jaw. Your lips pressed against the coolness of her skin, the hard line of her angular jaw, and you felt her chest hitch under you, her body shake with the desire that buried itself in her lungs at the touch of your mouth on her body.

You pulled back, peering at Nancy’s face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she lay under you, glowing in the soft beams of moonlight that slanted in through the window, radiant; she was a Renaissance painting against her pillow, a woman blissful in the throes of passion, seduced by an immortal god. Your body, your soul cried out for you to touch her, touch her, and you leaned down, pressing your lips against the long line of her throat, the column of smooth skin, before running your tongue over it. The tiniest, softest moan escaped Nancy’s lips as your tongue warmed her skin and–

You felt her body under your hand, still cupping her sex, flutter. Her walls tightened, almost imperceptibly, as your finger waited for her body to grant you entrance. When you felt the rush of slick dripping in between her folds, sliding over your hand, you slipped yourself inside of her. Nancy whimpered, eyes still closed under you as you curled your finger slightly, pressing against the warm, tight wall of her body. “Shh,” you murmured, and your free arm pressed itself into her pillow, your hand pushing her curls out of her face so you could watch her eyes tighten, her brow crease. She moaned again, barely more than a sigh, and you felt her hips tilt up, pushing your finger deeper inside of her. You couldn’t stop the grin that slipped over your lips–and she couldn’t see it, anyways, her eyes shut as her head rolled back on her pillow. 

“More,” Nancy moaned, and you ignored the spreading heat in between your legs as you bullied a second finger into her. She was tight, much tighter than you ever would have dreamed, and you could feel her clenching around the forced spread of your hand inside of her. You rotated your wrist, pulling your fingers back before slipping them in again and again, never fully pulling them out as she gasped with each thrust. “More, more,” Nancy’s voice came to you like a prayer falling from her lips, begging, pleading for you to touch her; you dipped your head, lips latching on to her exposed collarbone as she mewled. 

Nancy ground her hips against your hand, her desire coating your palm and other fingers now, desperate for more friction as you filled and stretched her. “What is it, babygirl?” You heard yourself whispering against Nancy’s throat, the words slipping out without your permission. “What do you need from mommy?” Nancy’s hips stuttered against your hand, a physical reflection of her shock at the growl in your words, the low, coaxing tone that wallowed in between your bodies. 

“Need–I want–” Nancy stuttered, and you dared to glance up at her from where you suckled on her throat.

 “Use your words.”

 “I want you to touch my clit.” 

“Good girl,” you whispered, and Nancy whimpered, a high-pitched sound that scratched itself out a home in your heart as it fell from her lips. You let your thumb push in between her folds, seeking out the swollen bud above her opening. Pushing into it, you reveled in the sound of Nancy’s breathing, harsh pants now as her hips lifted again and again. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl,” you breathed into her skin, fingers curling inside of her as your thumb rubbed harsh, fierce circles. “Keep going. Keep going until you cum for me, baby.” 

Nancy whined at your words, and you felt her suddenly clench around you, drawing your fingers even deeper into her body. You moved your thumb faster, whispering “that’s my girl, that’s my girl, go ahead, baby,” as her panting turned into soft cries, little moans that elevated in pitch as her body pulled, tightening and releasing in short spasms. When she stopped, her hips slowing, her muscles loosening around you suddenly, you kept your fingers resting in her warmth. Pulling your face back from her neck, you carefully avoided Nancy’s eyes, avoided seeking out the sweat and blush on her face that was meant to be your reward, and carefully pulled your hand from her body, gentle as her walls twitched. 

Your hand came up from under the blankets, dripping and coated in the clear expression of Nancy’s satisfaction, of what you had to assume was her enjoyment of your touch. You chanced a glance back at her, still lying on the pillows. Nancy’s eyes were on your hands, the corners of her eyes tight as her mouth pressed into a hard line; you felt the burn of rejection simmer in your gut, a byproduct of the guilt and shame you read in her face. “I’m just–I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you said, flipping Nancy’s blanket back and standing up suddenly, desperately hoping she couldn’t see the discoloration where your underwear was soaked through, couldn’t see the glimmer of slick dripping down your own thighs. 

******************************************************************************

The two of you never spoke about it. Never, not once, over the next few months did you bring it up–and there were chances to. When you brought a girl home from a Halloween party, Nancy didn’t ask if you got her off the same way you did her; when she left to go back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving, you didn’t ask if her own hand would satisfy her the way yours had; and when either of you entered your room late at night, you both always knocked first, giving the other time to whip their hand out from their underwear and feign sleep. 

It almost felt like you had made it up, like it was some too-vivid dream. Like you had dreamt what Nancy’s throat tasted like, like you had dreamt how her hair smelled like jasmine, like you had dreamt that her fingers had tightened in the fabric of your shirt as she came, like you had dreamt of her face cradled so gently in your palm while you pushed her hair out of her face. 

Or worse–like you had dreamt up the little glances she shot you in the kitchen as you poured coffee, her eyes darting away nervously as soon as they met yours; had dreamt the way her eyes pulled together with hurt when you had walked the girl from the Halloween party out of your apartment, ducking slightly to avoid the kiss the girl had tried to press to your mouth at the front door, aware of Nancy’s gaze on the back of your head; had dreamt the blush that darkened her cheeks as she took calls from Jonathan in your living room, the phone ringing for her less and less often. 

The one thing that you knew you weren’t creating in your own head was the silence. Because Nancy still changed in your shared room, exposing her full body–the soft, pale thighs your hand had parted, the pert, firm breasts you had felt against your torso when you leaned into her–to you as she pulled her clothes, but now she did it without speaking. 

You would have let the silence go on forever, would have lived in quiet for the rest of the year and moved out in the spring and spent the rest of your life pushing thoughts of Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Fuckin’ Wheeler, out of your head for the rest of your life. Would have never spoken to her again, if that’s what she wanted, until December. 

She had packed her bags, chattering at top speed to all of the roommates: Jonathan had called, had made plans for the two of them, had booked her a flight–she was going to California for Christmas. She’d spend the holidays wrapped around the boy you resented, snuggled warm under his blankets, his hand between her thighs instead of yours, exchanging presents and kisses, while you sat alone in the drafty apartment you all shared. The other roommates were going out of town, too, with promises to bring back their family’s cookies and cakes for you since you were the only one not planning on leaving for the month of break. 

When Nancy left, she had flung an arm around the neck of each girl; had hugged them quickly, but fiercely, like she wanted them to know that she loved them but not enough to stay. When she walked up to you, her arms were slower–she wrapped both of the thin, long limbs around your waist instead of your neck, pulling you in tightly. Her lips ghosted over your racing pulse in your throat, a gentle brush that could have been mistaken for an accident, before she pulled back. “Bye!” She chirped, her voice as bright as her welling eyes. “See you in a month!” 

The next few weeks were a haze. A disorienting blur of the other roommates leaving, of rides to the airport and lonely trips to the grocery store. Of waking up in an empty bedroom, no sounds of soft sighs and sleepy, content breaths from the other side of the room. You settled into a routine: Wake up, make breakfast, bundle up in your warmest coat and a thick scarf to go for a walk, come home, flick through TV while you snacked, make dinner, go to bed. It was boring, yes, but the routine settled you, and when thoughts of Nancy, images of her wide eyes and wider grin, her sharp brows and strong jaw, her long fingers and dark curls, danced across your retinas, you could shake your head and refocus on the task at hand. There was no space for the lingering hurt in your heart with your routine, no space to bemoan the state of your life and loneliness as you sat on the couch on Christmas Eve. 

The routine was familiar at this point, comforting in the way it surrounded you with people and distractions while you were entirely alone. The routine is why it was so alarming when the front door swung open, accompanied by the loud thumps of a heavy suitcase hitting the floor. The routine was the reason you looked up so slowly, why it took your brain so long to process the small woman in your doorway wearing a skirt and t-shirt, shivering aggressively as tears slid down her face. “N–Nancy?” You asked, feeling your eyebrows draw together in confusion. She opened her mouth, the only thing coming out of it a wail. 

“Nancy,” you said, standing up suddenly. You rushed to the door, wrapping your arms around her slender, icy frame. “Nancy, what’s wrong? What–Why are you here? Where is your fucking jacket?” You asked, your head turning quickly to look at the frozen flurries frolicking past your window, snowflakes glinting in the light of the streetlamps. A watery laugh burst from the chest wrapped under your arms. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Nancy asked, tilting her head slightly to peer up at you from watery lashes. “I come home,” she sniffed, wiping her nose as you relinquished your grip on her, “crying,” she said, emphasizing the word, “and you’re worried about me not having a coat?” She laughed again, the sound broken and making your heart ache. 

“It’s freezing outside, Nance. You–come on, you need to get wrapped up. Come sit on the couch.” You pushed her farther into the apartment, following behind to swaddle her in the blankets, still warm from your own body heat, that were piled on the couch. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in California with Jonathan until January.” 

She sniffed, running a finger under her eyes. “We broke up,” she said, her voice catching on the words. The story burbled out of her in stops and starts, tears and shuddering gasps interrupting her words as she recounted the morning’s conversation, how Jonathan had sat her down at the breakfast table, how he had explained that he wasn’t sure he could give her the life she wanted, she deserved, he said, and how, eventually, it had come down to the simplest words possible: We just don’t love each other anymore.” 

Her hands reached out, sliding over the blankets to wind her fingers in between the spaces of yours. “He was right,” Nancy said, her voice more even now as the tears stopped. “He was right, we just–we don’t love each other anymore. I don’t think we have for a while. But I just–I wasn’t expecting it, you know? I thought–” she shook her head, a trickle of laughter flowing from her lips. “I thought I would just get through the next four years, and then I would marry Jonathan, and we’d have a couple of kids, and we would be normal. I wanted to be normal.” Her eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine before she shifted her gaze to your interlocked fingers. “I don’t think I can be normal, though. I think–I think I want something else for myself now.” Nancy’s fingers tightened, a shot of adrenaline coursing through your veins at the touch. 

When she leaned forward, pressing her wide lips to yours, it caught you off guard. You jolted backwards, breaking the first real kiss the two of you had ever had. “Nance,” you whispered. “I’m– I don’t think we should–” 

“Please.” 

“You just broke up–”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about him like that anymore. I haven’t since–since before we–please, I just want you to touch me.” 

You bit back the words that had been pushing for space on your tongue, the denials and the rebuffs that were rational and responsible. “Say that again.”

“I want you to touch me. Please.” The last word was a whimper, soft and quiet like she was ashamed of it, but it melted whatever lingering resolve was buried in your chest. You moved quickly, bringing your mouth to Nancy’s again, pressing lips together as you tilted your head, pressing hers back so that your tongue was able to slip easily into the space between her lips. She gasped, quietly, against your mouth, and you felt your heart rattle in your chest, chaotic and longing to be closer to her. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” you whispered, moving your mouth to press harsh, hot kisses into her chin, her jawline, her neck, her throat, “until you forget that asshole’s name. Understood?” The whimper that fell from Nancy’s lips was your only verbal response, but she nodded her head vigorously, her brown curls shifting out of place with the motion; the way her fingers tightened around your arms, her nails digging into your skin as her head tilted back, a moan falling from her mouth, confirmed it for you as well. 

Your fingers flew to her waistline and were met by her hands; you pulled her skirt down as she pushed her shirt up (a trickle of annoyance in the back of your mind that Jonathan, fucking Jonathan who’s been an invisible presence between the two of you for so long, let her come back here in the dead of winter wearing a t-shirt and a skirt). Your fingers find bare skin, exposed paleness dappled with large freckles here and there. It’s the first time you’ve seen her like this–the last time you touched her, she was covered the entire time, keeping herself hidden away from your prying eyes like a sacred relic, like she knew that you were greedy and would take as much of her as you could and would never, never give up what you held in your hand at that moment. 

You wrapped your fingers around her waist, pressing your hands into the lines of muscle and sinew that separated you from her bones. Overcome, you dipped your head, pressing your nose flat into the soft padding above her belly button. The weight of your face pushed Nancy back onto the arm of the couch, her legs sprawling open as you fit your body between them so you could continue to touch the parts of her that reclined backwards. You dragged your nose up, letting your skin burn a path across her stomach as your nose and chin pushed up, up, until your chin was resting on the very bottom line of her bra. You settled your face there, Nancy’s fingers winding through your hair as she gripped your scalp, and blinked at her, a slow smile turning your lips as you took in her disheveled hair, pink cheeks, panting breaths. “Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi yourself,” she whispered back, a gentle smile settling over her face. She loosened her grip on your hair, and the long fingers brushed against your forehead. Nancy tilted her head, slightly, watching her own hands trace patterns over your skin. When her eyes drifted back to yours, you couldn’t help but see the warmness in them, the distant echo of a centuries old fireside that represented home. “Are you done? Or do I get more?” She asked, and you had to stop yourself from practically purring at the simplicity of her request, of the implication that she was just waiting this whole time for you to decide to give her more. 

“Depends,” you said, smirking. “What’s your ex’s name?” 

“Jonathan,” Nancy replied immediately, eyebrows pulling together. 

“Must need more then,” you said, and turned your head abruptly to nip at the swell of the breast that threatened to spill out of the cup of her bra. Nancy’s sharp gasp was finished with a laugh, and your hands slipped under her torso to unclasp her bra, pulling the straps down her arms as you moved the material away from her skin. Her breasts fell free of the enclosure, the pink rosebuds already hard and drawn in the coolness of the air. You bite, playfully, at the curving line of her chest, soothing the small mark from your teeth with your tongue as Nancy whimpers. “Shh,” you whisper, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

Your mouth moves, slowly and sloppily, to the hardened perk of her nipple, and you’re quick to take it in between your lips, sliding your tongue over it, around it, all but rolling it in your mouth. Nancy is gasping, little “yes”s bursting from her lips as your hands wander down from her sides, skimming over her narrow hips to clench the tops of her thighs that your body presses between. All she’s wearing underneath you is a pair of the satin panties you’ve spent the last semester watching her shimmy over her hips, wishing desperately to touch. 

You lean back, letting your eyes wander over the expanse of her body as Nancy catches her breath. Her chest heaves under your eyes, her pulse throbbing in the column of her throat. “God,” you hear yourself whisper, voice rasping. “You are so fucking pretty for me, baby girl.” Nancy’s eyes widen, her lower lip wobbling as she takes in your words. Her arm extends, grabbing your wrist tightly as she pulls your fingers to her skin. 

Nancy places the palm of your hand against her throat, your fingers instinctually wrapping around the slender column. You feel your eyes widen slightly, shocked by the unspoken request; her brows arc, right at the narrow ends, and you feel your face press into a grin. “Words,” you whisper, and Nancy’s eyes slip closed, a tiny smile playing at the curve of her full, swollen mouth. 

“Please.”

“Please what?” 

“Please choke me. Please. I need you to–” 

Her words end abruptly, a gentle sigh replacing her voice as your fingers tighten, pressing into the harsh pulse on the sides of her throat. Your other hand slips between her legs, finding the skin of her inner thighs slick with longing. “Oh, you’re such a good girl,” you whisper, and Nancy’s moan makes your stomach tighten, your core throb. Your fingers slide the soft fabric of her underwear to the side, pushing in between the folds to seek out her center. 

“Wait,” Nancy huffs, and you loosen your fingers around her throat, eyes flashing to her face with concern. You look over her, eyes darting for signs of distress, for too-red cheeks or teary eyes. “I just–you already–please, just let me go down on you.” You lean back, feeling your eyebrows climb over your face as your lips part slightly. “Please. Mommy.” The words are stilted, falling from her mouth like bricks, but the light blush snaking over her cheeks tells you that Nancy knows, she knows what she wants, and she wants you. 

You nod, the movement subtle. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want.” She preens under your words, her eyelashes fluttering as a soft smile highlights the apples in her cheeks. Nancy’s fingers are gentle, slow where yours were quick, as they grab the hem of your night shirt; she pulls it over your head carefully, eyes on yours until your skin is exposed. The cool air of the apartment hits you, causing goosebumps to rise on your soft form.

“You’re so…” Nancy’s voice trails off, quiet as her doe eyes roam over your skin. “Beautiful,” she says, the word hanging in the air between the two of you, glimmering with traces of months worth of pent-up longing. “You’re so beautiful.” Her eyes meet yours, a spark of electricity bouncing from her to tighten your heart in your chest. Nancy leaned forward, pressing her mouth to yours as you fell back against the worn couch. Her delicate hands guide you to lie down on your back, the top of your head pressing into the bottom of the arm of the couch. “Beautiful,” she whispers, pressing her mouth into your throat; “Beautiful,” she says again, her lips cloying at your collarbone; “Beautiful,” hushed, like a prayer, at the curve of your breast; “Beautiful,” louder now, spoken into the softness of your stomach; “Beautiful,” a moan, this time, as you slip your underwear down your legs, exposing your heat to her mouth. 

Nancy is quick now, her lips pressing once to the skin above your already-damp folds. You feel her fingers spread you, her body tightening with anticipation in between your clenched thighs. A finger pushes against your opening, the muscles fluttering at the slight pressure. “Is this okay?” Nancy asks, and she pulls her eyes away from your body to gaze up at you. You nod, aware that any words from your lips would come out cracked, broken, as pathetic as you’ve felt dreaming of this moment for the last few months. 

Nancy’s finger slides into your core, and a soft sigh falls from your lips. She’s gentle, caring with her hand already up to the palm inside of you. The finger curls, just slightly, as she pulls it back, and your eyelids flicker at the pressure against your walls. She pushes a second finger in, stretching you just slightly as she works her hand against you, forcing a small whine from your lips. “You’re okay?” She says, the end of the sentence rising like a question as her eyes meet yours again. You nod, your eyes already feeling hazy as you watch her watch you. “Can I…use my mouth?” The question is hesitant, tentative, shy. 

“Don’t ask so many questions, Wheeler,” you mutter, cheeks burning as your voice shakes. A slow smile spreads over her face, and Nancy pulls her fingers from your warmth and dips her face to the space between your thighs. You can feel her tongue, flat and wide, licking a stripe between your lips; when it passes your gaping hole, you whimper and lift your hips, trying to grind into her face. Her tongue whisks over your clit, barely more than a fleeting brush, but it makes you gasp, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. 

“Oh,” Nancy sighs, and her eyes are narrowed, quizzical as she looks at you again. “You want both? Want to be filled and licked?��� You nod again, the desire to mock her endless questions dying on your tongue as her fingers slide back in, quickly now that she’s in familiar territory. Your head rolls back on the couch under you, and your eyelids slide closed. When her tongue returns to the swollen burst of nerves, you whimper–the sound is long, loud, ludacris when coupled with the sound of her fingers thrusting into your wetness. “Oh,” Nancy moans–really, truly, moans, into your dripping cunt, and the vibrations send shockwaves through your skin. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, and your hands are suddenly wound in her hair, giving you something to hold on to as you rut your hips against her face. Her nose, her tiny, perfect nose, is pressing against your skin, her tongue lapping fast, wide strokes at your clit, and her fingers are starting to relax, to spread from each other and stretch where you’re tightest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and Nancy’s fingers are faster, harder, while she lets you use her face for friction. “Oh, Nance–Nancy–Don’t–Please don’t–stop–” The words are coming out of your mouth in between hitched breaths, breaking in little gasps and cracks as you force them out, desperate to tell her that if she stops–if her tongue slows, if her fingers disappear, if any of it goes–you’re pretty sure you’ll die on the spot. 

“Nance,” you mewl, the word falling from your full lips like a prayer, “Nance, I’m gonna–don’t stop, I’m gonna c–” It’s the last word you get out before your back arches, body tightening around her fingers, a sharpness in your spine curving in on itself until it’s unleashed, the arrow of your desire loosed from the bow of Nancy’s lips. The sound that drips from your mouth is high pitched, cradled on each end by gasps, and you swear you can feel Nancy grinning into your body as she continues, relentlessly fucking you through your freefall. 

When you finish, she sits up and pulls her hand from you. You watch as Nancy sits back on her knees, slips her fingers into her mouth. Any thought you would have had at that moment–what does this mean, are we together now, are we going to talk about this, holy shit that was the best orgasm of my fucking life–dissapear from your head as you watch Nancy’s eyes close, an expression of bliss on her features as her mouth cleans you from her hand. She removes her fingers with a subtle pop, and you try to bring your gaze from her lips back to her eyes unsuccessfully. Your eyes are still on her lips, which is why you can’t miss when she says it. 

“Jonathan.” 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows jumping together in confusion and shock. 

“Jonathan,” Nancy repeats, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “I still remember his name.” 

You take a moment, letting your earlier conversation roll through your mind. A devilish smile turns up the corners of Nancy’s mouth as she watches you put the pieces together. “Right,” you say, sitting up with a grin on your own face, “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”

[yukikorogashi]

''Ooooh....'' Kamui couldn't help but found himself intrigued when he saw the young girl with a hammer that may be about twice her size. Without even asking, he decides to swipe it away to sate this curiosity of his. It certainly wasn't all that heavy.

''You know... I don't see a lot of humans capable of lifting something this big.'' Kamui couldn't help smiling with amusement when casually swinging the weapon around.

''I'm pretty sure something like this can crack a skull easily. Maybe along with the brain too, have you done that before? Well, you don't exactly look at all innocent despite how young you are. Hahaha.''

During his laughter, the hammer would slip from his grip, and tumble into a building at an insane speed. ''Oh whoops, my bad~! ♫''

IT HAD ALL HAPPENED SO FAST, for before she had even registered the curious coo directed her way, her hammer would be swiped from right under her very nose. An astonished and aghast gasp escaping her, as she whipped her attention towards the culprit in question. Her immediate next course of action being to try and get it back from this annoyingly cheerful stranger. Waving her hands frantically up at him, as she tip-toed, and even hopped up and down in hopes of reaching it.

"H-Hey! G-Give dat back, bro!!!"

GODDESS, HELP HER! Were all the BROS in EDO CITY just BUTTHEADS?!

Didn't his MOMMA teach him that it ain't polite to just take things without asking???

She had barely managed to catch most of the things he was babbling on about in the midst of all this (Seriously, bro?!). Simply focused on trying to get her weapon back from @lostusagis, before he ended up doing something regrettable with it. Though, her features would contort just a smidge in confusion, when he had addressed her as HUMAN. As her gaze flashed itself back to the stranger's gleeful features-- outside of his inhuman strength, one wouldn't even be able tell that he wasn't human. And with that said... just what was he? And why does he kinda remind her of someone then?

And before Itsuki was even able to address his next, rather concerning remark...

"EEEEAAAAA A A A A A!!!"

All the poor girl could do then was run haplessly after her hammer, and deal with the INEVITABLE DESTRUCTION that was going to greet her-- the moment she reached that poor building. It was just moving much too fast for her to summon it back to her. But Goddess knows that on this day, she was going to UP ON HER TRAINING, so that this will never happen again!

[neko-sufis-world]

What a beautiful ponytail you have! Let me fix it! ^v^

-Zip to Ronnie Anne while pulling her ponytail and holding scissor to cut her ponytail off

Whoops! Sorry! My hand is slipped!

-Oliver to Rusty Spokes while pouring the hot sauce on his head.

*Controlling his drone* Hahaha! Funny how you fell from the drone! 😂

-Edward to Stella Zhau after he drops her off from the high with his drone.

[doodlejoltik]

hahaha imagine starting another WIP before finishing previous art. i would never do that -

Whoops my hand slipped here's a snippet

[armin-hearteyes-arlert]

@arlertt I was drawing some eremin per your art request and... I accidentally made it so much spicier than I'd initially intended I blame my inexplicable inherent disdain for drawing clothes 👀

[midaskey]

Зная, что я не один русскоговорящий человек в этом фэндоме, запощу это и тут:

Помнится я когда-то упоминал о своем фике тут (и на других ресурсах) и в честь 2-ухлетия игры решил запостить первую его часть целиком:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577264/chapters/38845811

(Sorry, English-speaking folks, the fic is in Russian, but maybe I’ll translate it someday... SOMEDAY)

[a-lil-perspective]

Hey Lil how long after Hunter and Cyare dating do they finally get engaged/married? Like is Hunter a “whoops I just confessed I want to marry you kind of early hahaha let’s do it soon, yeah” guy and Cyare just goes along or does Cyare have to pull it out of him because he can never do it right?

Hmmm it happens pretty quickly lol. Hunter and Cyare are friends for a while (a few months) before they enter the dating stage and then it’s like full steam ahead. XD Honestly, Hunter’s desire for marriage just kind of always slips out in passing but Cyare just rolls with it because she really enjoys watching him struggle with it. XD Big Bad Sergeant floundering with feelings™ mmm. Yes. She knows he’s got it bad for her (and vice versa) and likes to draw it out as much as possible, and when he’s “officially” proposing, she practically has to finish his sentence for him. XD

Here’s an old(ish) snippet I found in my drafts that I will share. It is painfully awkward but that’s Hunter lmao.

~

“Well,” Hunter clapped his hands ceremoniously, resigned to wringing them as he navigated the current conversation with a rapidly-crumbling confidence. “We’ve known each other for awhile now...”

Cyare willed away the wave of nausea and exhilaration washing over her. “Uh-huh...” She was determined to make Hunter come to her.

“And I...” he cleared his throat, twice. “Well I like being around you... the way you make me feel...”

Cyare held her breath.

Hunter ducked his head in defeat, and her eyes became drawn to the glistening sheen of sweat across his forehead, no longer concealed by the usual strip of bandana. He huffed in good spirits. “Can you tell I’m nervous?”

“I think it’s charming.” And by the Maker if her splitting grin didn’t convey as much. Hunter smiled, easy this time.

“You’re too good to me... and the boys...”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “I always want to be good to you.” Her hand crept into his. He thumbed over her knuckles. “To the boys.”

Hunter’s breath hitched. He straightened with newfound vigor.

“I... Cyare. Do you... will you—”

“Marry you? I thought you’d never ask.” Cyare threw herself at him, grinning.

Hunter was like a bright-eyed cadet then, off on some new adventure. The adventure of a lifetime. In which Cyare was at his center.

Her smile was radiant, and Hunter swore it chased the sun away. He didn’t know what he had done to merit such adoration, but he was thankful for it all the same. He picked her up and spun her around with not a care in the world, because she was going to be his wife, and nothing had ever felt so right.

[ameliterature]

Chameron Ficlet (Headline)

Based on @poetofthedyingstars ' post

For my Chameron Shippers @maisietheweltoncow @propaganda-for-poets @duh-itsalampmeeks @cupiiid

Cameron wasn't homophobic, he swore by it. He supported Neil when he came out to everyone, he supported him even more when he and Todd got together. Cameron supported the idea of Meeks and Pitts being a queer platonic couple even if he didn't understand it at all. Cameron, being as straight as a ruler, knew he had nothing against Homosexuality or any other sexuality than his own.

So why, on God's good Earth, did he loathe the idea of Charlie kissing Knox right now? He also didn't enjoy him kissing Neil and Todd immediately after. They were all playing Spin-the-Bottle, an innocent game, and he knew Charlie was openly bisexual since they were in Grade 7. But why did Cameron hate it when Charlie would go over to other guys and playfully kiss them like it was nothing? Like it was easy?

Not that Cameron was against that. Cameron was ok with guys kissing guys. He's caught Neil and Todd kissing secretly by the stairwell once. Heck, he's seen so many secret gay couples in Welton more than he could count.

When Charlie kissed girls before, Cameron would feel a tad jealous, perhaps because even he wanted to kiss a pretty girl like Charlie could. But on times Charlie would sneak out and kiss some random guy on the lips, Cameron's stomach would twist in agony.

Could... Could Cameron be homophobic after all? Could he really be that bigoted against his own roommate?

It was Cameron's turn to spin the bottle, and of course it landed on Charlie.

Cameron prepared his guts not to suddenly jerk away from Charlie's hand. He tried his best not to feel offended by this action. He wanted to be a good friend.

As Charlie brought his hand over Cameron's cheek, the redhead felt his cheeks simmer. He's nervous, that's normal, he's also anticipating the kiss, that's probably normal... right? He's kissing Charlie Dalton, that's...

Cameron's eyes were closed as he and Charlie shared a kiss, their friends were whooping and laughing, clapping and cheering, reminding Cameron that this kiss was all in good fun. When Charlie pulled away, giving him a shy smile, Cameron could only stare at him back.

He kissed Charlie Dalton.

The whole night, Cameron was more silent, barely adding to the conversation. Sometimes Todd would ask him a few questions, or Meeks would pass him a cigarette to check on him, but Cameron was clearly dazed.

When they returned to their dorm, once Charlie took off his coat and shoes before haphazardly plopping onto bed, Cameron sat upright by his bed, silently taking off his own shoes.

"Hey Cam, you okay? You were pretty quiet the whole walk back here." Charlie had his head propped over his hand.

"I... I'm fine."

"C'mon, you can tell me. Unlike you, I don't fink." Charlie playfully teases. Charlie felt it was a slip of his tongue because he noticed Cameron becoming even more glum.

"Sorry I kissed you a while ago Cam,"

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry, I know you're straight and all- I'm sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable in anyway." Charlie sat up, finally facing Cameron properly.

"Charlie... It's not that- That's not the point."

"Well... What is the point?" Charlie tilts his head at him.

Cameron could only stare at Charlie's face in the dim moonlight peeking through their window; with what little moonlight there was anyway.

"The point... Ch-Charlie... Is that I don't like it when you kiss other guys...." Cameron's voice was shaky, he couldn't believe what he's saying.

"... Cam? What do you mean? I know you're not into kissing guys, but I at least thought you'd respect when I do."

"N-no... I mean--" Cameron scratches the back of his head, making Charlie (and even himself) more anxious.

"Well? Spit it out."

"I... I don't like it when you kiss... other guys." Cameron buried his face into his hands in embarrassment.

Charlie took a moment to reiterate what his roommate said in his head. "O-oh... OOOHHH."

Charlie walked over to stand in front of Cameron, promptly kneeling down to remove Cameron's hands from his face. It revealed tear-soaked eyes and a worried look.

"Hahaha... For a second there I thought you were homophobic..." Charlie smirks up at him.

"Y-yeah... I thought so too..." Cameron returns the smile, still looking away. "I just... I'm fine, really. I'll get used to you kissing whoever you want."

"Hey Cam..." Charlie brings his hand over to Cameron's chin, gently getting him to face his direction. "I don't mind... only kissing you romantically from now on... But I'd still kiss everyone platonically of course." Charlie raising his eyebrow in jest.

"It's alright, Charlie, you can kiss whoever you want." Cameron sighs, in relief at least, Charlie held his hands in a way that kept him safe.

"Alright... If you say so--" Charlie leaned forward to plant another kiss on Cameron's lips, this time, more intentional than their first one, more passionate even.

Cameron, as it turns out, didn't have a problem with Charlie kissing guys if it was just him he was kissing. He worried all night if he was being homophobic, but as he and Charlie shared their second kiss, he realized he was in love with him this whole time.

End

[strawberry--bride]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sharon’s Route [MANIAC 01]

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;;  Bathroom

Sharon: Haah...It’s one of those days again, huh?

*Rustle*

( I suppose it’s due to the recent rise in humidity, but my hair hasn’t been working with me. )

( It looks like bomb exploded in there... )

She grabs her brush.

Sharon: I better try to fix this before we have to leave to school.

*THUD*

Sharon: ...!!

( W-What was that? It came from the hallway, right...? )

She opens the door slighty, taking a peek outside.

Sharon: ( Ah. It’s the triplets... )

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway

Laito: Eeeeh~? No need to get so upset, baby bro. I’d say you look quite cute.

Kanato: Exactly. ...Like a soft, fluffy cloud.

Ayato: Pfftー! More like he put his finger inside a socket! Hahaha!

Subaru: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Subaru stomps towards the bathroom.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;;  Bathroom

Sharon: ...!!

( O-Oh no! He’s coming this way! I better hide! )

She gets behind the shower curtain.

*Rustle rustle*

Subaru: ...Those jerks! They’re catchin’ these hands after I’m done fixin’ my hair!

He slams the door shut.

*Thud*

Sharon: ( Uu...He’s enraged. I wonder what has gotten him so upset...? )

Subaru: Do they think I did this on purpose or somethin’...!? 

God, I hate summer...

Sharon: ( Huh...? Could it be...? )

She quietly moves the curtain a little to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Subaru by the mirror.

Sharon: ...Ah!

Subaru: Haah...?

Subaru looks to the side as they lock eyes.

Sharon: ( ーー !! )

( Shoot! I accidentally let my voice slip! )

...Ahaha...G-Good morning~!

Subaru: ...You!?

The fuck you doin’ in there!? ...Are you takin’ after Shuu and takin’ showers while fully clothed now!?

Sharon: N-No...! Let me explain!

( Uu...Now that he saw me, I better be honest. )

*TIMESKIP*

Sharon: ーー And that brings us to the present.

Subaru: ...

Sharon: ...So. Bad hair day, huh?

Subaru: Fuck off!

Sharon: Same here.

Subaru: ...Oh. Now that you mention it, you really look like shit today.

Sharon: ( Uu...Somehow hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it hurt twice as much. )

Subaru: Pft.

Sharon: Eh?

Subaru: Haha...It kinda looks like a bomb exploded in there.

Sharon: ( Ah. I thought the exact same thing earlier. )

( Howeverーー )

( This might be the first time I’ve seen Subaru-kun smile like that... )

Hehe~ Right?

A-Anyway! I think I can fix this! Yours doesn’t look half as bad either. Why don’t you sit down and let me handle it?

Subaru: ...Hah? I-It’s fine! I can do it by myself!

Sharon: Tut-tut. I’m not taking no as an answer right now. Come on.

She forces him to take a seat in front of the mirror.

*Rustle*

Subaru: O-Oiー!

Sharon: Let’s brush it first to get rid of the knots. Then we’ll try and do something about the frizziness. 

She grabs a brush and starts combing his hair. 

*Rustle rustle*

Subaru: ...

Sharon: Tell me if it hurts, okay?

Subaru: ...’s fine! I’m no crybaー Ow! Oi! Be careful!

Sharon: Whoops! S-Sorry. I’ll be extra gentle.

Subaru: Che...

*Rustle*

Sharon: ( Fufu~ Despite his complaints, he’s actually letting me fix his hair. )

*TIMESKIP*

Sharon: All done!

Subaru: ...

Sharon: What do you think?

Subaru: Hmph. It’s fine, I guess. 

Sharon: That being said, you have really soft hair. I was a little surprised~ 

Subaru: Haah!? T-The fuck you sayin’!? 

Sharon: Eh? That was a compliment, you know?

Subaru: S-Shut up! ーー Just keep quiet and sit down.

Sharon: ...Sit down?

Subaru: You’re up next, right? Or are you gonna go to school lookin’ like that?

She switches places with him and sit down.

Sharon: Subaru-kun, are you perhaps offering to...?

Subaru: Shut it. Just behave before I change my mind.

ー He picks up the brush and starts combing her hair.

*Rustle rustle*

Sharon: ...

Subaru: I can see you grinnin’ in the mirror, you know?

Sharon: Ehehe~ It just feels kind of nice to have someone brush my hair, you know? 

...

I wonder how long it’s been...

( The memories are becoming more vague with each day, but I’m pretty sure I remember mom doing this for me when I was little. )

Subaru: ーー My mom.

Sharon: Eh?

Subaru: ...She also has ridiculously long hair like yours. 

When I was still a kid, I’d brush it for her from time to time, that’s all.

Sharon: Heeh...How sweet of you. I’m sure that must have made your mother very happy!

Subaru: ...B-Beats me!

He puts the brush down.

*Thud*

Subaru: There. I’m done.

Sharon: Waah~! It looks perfect! Thank you so much, Subaru-kun!

Subaru: ...Don’t mention it.

Sharon: Ah! Look at the time! I have to get ready for school!

She rushes towards the door.

Subaru: ーー Oi.

Sharon: Hm?

Subaru: Aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?

Sharon: Eh?

Subaru steps closer, reaching one hand forward.

Sharon: ( ...!? )

*Rustle rustle*

Sharon: ( ...Huh? )

( Did he just put something in my hair...? )

Subaru: Your hair clip. This thing’s important to you, right? You left it layin’ on the counter.

Sharon: Ah. T-Thank you.

Subaru: ...Che.

Sharon: W-Well, time to go then! ...See you later!

She quickly leaves the bathroom.

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;; Hallway

Sharon: ...

( What’s wrong with me...? )

( For some reason... )

She places one hand on her chest, feeling her heartbeat.

Sharon: ( No, no, no. I’m sure I just got a little startled because he suddenly stepped closer, that’s all! )

Anyway, better get ready for school now!

*TIMESKIP*

Location: Sakamaki Manor ;;  Living Room

Reiji: Everyone is here, it seems. Very well.

Laito: Oh my, oh my~? Subaru-kun...Your hair, it’s back to normal!

Kanato: What a shame. I thought the cloud look fit you very well.

Ayato: Darn! I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you make an absolute fool out of yourself at school today.

Reiji: Oh? Now that you mention it, your hair actually looks properly styled for once. What has caused this change?

Sharon: Ah, actuallyーー

Subaru: Oi! Idiot! 

He leans in, whispering.

Subaru: If you tell them what happened, you’re dead. Understood?

Sharon: ( ...! )

Laito: Hmm~~? Could it be...~~?

Subaru: ...!!

Arghー! In that case...!

Subaru uses both hands to ruffle up his hair again.

Reiji: Wha...!?

Shuu: Haah...

Laito: Oh dear~

Sharon: Ah...!

( Uu...All my efforts wasted... )

( Oh well, I got to see a different side of Subaru-kun today, so I guess it’s fine... )

ーー MANIAC 01: END ーー

<- [ Maniac Prologue ] [ Maniac 02 ] ->

[crazymangaluv]

Mercy: Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Some curse words & some steaminess. 

Brief Summary: Being the bright person you are, you come up with a great idea to relieve your boredom, however, you failed to consider the repercussions of your actions. You reap what you sow and now you’re at his mercy. 

***********************************************

You had to admit this wasn’t your strongest idea, going up against someone like him. There you are, under the mercy of your captor, struggling to break free. Arms pinned above you, the weight of the man heavy on you. Your eyes wide, pleading.

”Please have mercy!” you cry out. 

He sneers, “You had your chance. It’s too late for mercy.”

Crap, I messed up bad. Your stomach drops, the sense of dread creeping in on you as you sense your impending doom. 

“Noooooo!”

It was a hot day at Gotham and to make things worse, you were home alone bored while you waited for your boyfriend to come home. You two had plans, Disney marathon plans, but he was late...again. You sigh. Hmm-- you tap your fingers on the table-- what to do, what to do...then it clicked. You know exactly what you want to do. You leave a note for your boyfriend and head off to begin your preparations. 

Whew, there...you wipe the sweat off your brow. You finally finished. “Thank you for your help Alfred.”

“Anytime Miss/Mister y/n. Is this all the assistance you require?”

“Yes, thank you. Hehe...hehehe….hahaha -snort- ahahahahahaha! Yes! This is perfect!” you cackle at your plan. With a sigh Alfred leaves you laughing to yourself. 

“Y/n, I’m home! Sorry for running late, Bizarro--” Jason pauses, noticing the note you left for him:

Dear Jaybirdie,

        Meet me at Wayne Manor ASAP...you owe me.

               Love,

                      Your awesome lover 

Wayne Manor? Hn...what are you up to y/n? He ponders. He then shrugs, already heading out to meet you. Soon enough he arrives at Wayne Manor, but before he could reach the door his back feels an impact. *splash*. Was that a…water balloon? He hears your trademark giggle, his head whipping around just in time to see you running off. “What the hell y/n?”

“Master Jason, these are for you.” Alfred states, appearing behind him. Jason turns back around to see Alfred holding out a bucket for him. “A message from Miss/Mister y/n, and I quote: ‘I’m leveling out the playing field. It’ll make your ass whooping more satisfying sweetheart.’” He clears his throat, handing Jason the bucket of water balloons. 

“Hmph, oh how nice of you sweetheart…” he snatches the bucket from Alfred’s gloved hand.  He dashes after you, “WE’LL SEE JUST WHOSE ASS IS GONNA GET WHOOPED! NEWS FLASH!” he rounds the corner, “IT’S YOURS!” he advances towards you. 

You look back and see him advancing on you. You give him a wicked grin before sticking your tongue out at him childishly and giggling away. He returns the grin, chucking water balloons at you, however, not a single one hit its mark. You, on the other hand, manage to land a hit right on his beautiful face. You both stop. He was dumbfounded, dazzling blue eyes wide. His expression was so funny you couldn’t help but burst out in laughter while you took off running again. Your cackle brings him back to the situation at hand. He shakes off the shock and with a newfound burst of energy he sprints after you, hot on your trail. His throws become faster and stronger, precision improving. It was getting harder for you to dodge them. 

You laugh, “Pfft, I thought you were a marksman, the marksman! What kind of marksman are you if you can’t even hit your target?!” You taunt as you nimbly dodged each of his water balloons. 

You can literally see a vein popping out on his forehead. “I was going easy on you cuz I love you but fuck that! You’re gonna get it now y/n!” 

“Oh noooo, the big bad Red Hood is after me! I’m sooo scared!” you retort back sarcastically. You were digging your own grave taunting this dangerous man, but it was worth it. The look on his face, priceless. You were kicking his ass, but alas, your winning streak wasn’t bound to last forever. 

You hear barking in the distance. Titus! Soon you see Jason’s face shift from a determined smirk to a mischievous grin. Uh oh…

“Get her/him Titus!” he shouts, pointing at your direction.

No! But before you could react, you’re tackled and knocked over by an excited Titus. “Noooo! Titus! Get off you big goofy dog!” you shield yourself from the onslaught of licks and drool. 

This time it’s Jason’s turn to laugh at you. Oh how the tables have turned. You manage to get Titus off you but Jason launches himself on top of you before you’re able to recover. He’s quick to pin you down. And there you are, hands pinned above your head by your boyfriend’s firm grip, his hard body heavy on top of you. He has one hand gripping a water balloon menacingly above you. You struggle against him, attempting to break free but he’s too strong; it didn’t help that you were already tired from all the running and dodging. 

“Please have mercy!” you cry out with pleading eyes. 

“You had your chance, it’s too late for mercy” he sneers. 

“I was just trying to help you! You just looked so hot...I thought I could help you...you know...cool off?” you weakly explain.

His eyes narrow, smugly grinning, “How nice of you y/n. Let me repay the favor, my love.”

Crap, I messed up...bad. Your stomach drops feeling a sense of dread for your incoming doom. Noooo-! *splash* You gasp, but that was just the start of it. He soaks you with the rest of his remaining ammo. 

“Oh my goodness gracious, I’ve been bamboozled!” you manage to choke out, completely drenched. 

He chuckles above you, “That's what you get for challenging the amazingly badass Red Hood!” 

Your chest is heaving from exertion as you glare up at him, still unable to break free, completely at his mercy. Your soaked shirt has become see through, revealing your chest. His eyes roam down your body, his handsome face no longer sporting the triumphant, gleeful expression he had a few seconds ago. His eyes are now darkened with lust, pupils dilated...your heart pounds wildly and your breath hitches. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down. You could feel his hot breath fanning your anticipating lips briefly before his mouth covers yours passionately. He releases his grip on your arms, his hand is now underneath your head gripping your hair, firmly but gently. You clutch onto him with a moan, reciprocating in fervor, pulling your bodies closer together. He sucks at your bottom lip then slips his tongue into your mouth. Your tongue meets his, sliding against his as you grind yourself against him. He huskily groans in response, his other hand slipping under your shirt to explore your chest--

“Aww come on guys! Get a room!” Tim shouts in disgust, covering his eyes. 

“Nooo Damian! I’ll save you!” Dick cries out dramatically as he tackles Damian to the ground in a poor attempt to protect his innocence. 

“Get off me Grayson!” Damian demands, struggling to get his stupid brother off him. 

Both you and Jason cease your “activities”, releasing an exasperated sigh, disappointed by the interruption. You look up at him, making eye contact, and you both smirk. He helps you up, and you hand him your bucket containing the rest of your water balloons. Taking advantage of their distracted state, you both reach in, grab a balloon, and proceed to chuck them at the brothers. 

“HEY!” they shout in unison. 

Jason and you cackle evilly while the two of you proceed to pelt the boys with the water balloons. You both run away once the brothers recover as they made it their primary mission to get their revenge on the two of you. 

Jason chortles, “Suckers!” when the two of you pelt Tim and Damian on their faces. 

You also manage to land a hit on Dick’s butt, causing him to gasp dramatically. You snicker. “Sorry your ass is too big Dick! It makes such an easy target!” 

Dick gapes at you with a hand over his heart, aghast at the audacity!

Jason laughs at Dick’s expression, smirk widening at your taunting, however, you both unfortunately run out of water balloons. Uh oh. “Run y/n!” Jason grabs your hand, pulling you along with him to run for your lives. 

“Traitors! The both of you!” 

“Oy! Get back here!” 

“Todd! Y/n! You’re dead!” 

[fickle-tiction]

I haven’t seen any Superman or Batman movie but I adore holy musical Batman so that counts. Could I get lee Clark with ler Bruce & tummy as a spot?

God I love those Starkid musicals. You got it!! I don't think I've ever written ler!Bruce before lol this was fun. Also I'm sure I'm taking insane liberties with my little loophole here, please no one kill me lol

Also also, I seem to be incapable of only writing 3 sentences. Whoops.

~~

"Oh-hohohoho my go-hahaha-god!" Clark cackled, head thrown back as laughter flowed freely from his mouth. Bruce was currently straddling his waist, his knees pinning Clark's hands to the sparring mat, as his own hands wreaked havoc on Clark's stomach.

How was Bruce able to pin Clark down and absolutely wreck him without being thrown through a wall, you ask? Easy! Clark was wearing a bracelet embedded with a tiny flake of kryptonite.

Bruce was helping Clark get better at hand-to-hand combat, in case the day came where he couldn't rely on brute force alone to take down his enemies. With Clark's permission, Bruce made him a bracelet with just enough kryptonite in it to bring his strength down to human levels, but not enough to give him any adverse side effects or make him sick. It took a lot of trial and error, but it was worth it. It was a lot easier to train someone when they couldn't accidentally send you soaring across the room when they forgot to pull a punch. Being able to pin Clark down and tickle him was just a really great unforeseen perk.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Bruce was smirking as he pushed Clark's shirt up and scratched his short fingernails over Clark's bare abs. "Does that tickle?"

"You are-hahaha-dead wh-hehehe-when I get this th-hihihihihihi-thing off!"

"I can't believe it took me two weeks to think to try this."

"You-hahaha-you must be sli-hihihi-slipping in your old ahahahahaha-age!"

"Oh, you're just asking for it now." Bruce growled, switching to pinching up and down Clark's sides. Clark howled, startling a laugh out of Bruce.

Clark had always known he was ticklish, but no one ever got him like this. It was easy for him to turn the tables on anyone that tried it, a fact Bruce knew all too well.

"I am go-hohohoho-ing to tickle you to de-hehehehe-ath!" Clark assured Bruce after he stuck a finger into Clark's bellybutton and started wiggling it wildly.

"All the more reason to keep you trapped here."

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 Ep1

Haha, I'm in danger

Oooh, the menu screen already has an edgy feel to it wtf

I KNOW this is the season with the angst IDK if I'm ready tbh

Opening narration?

This is so ominous

White Gorilla?

Haha his name sounds like skunkape

Pfft, the boys like him even though he's a tool

There's a cathouse in their prison

The narrator has a very punchable face

Girl Stinky!

Oh? We can play as Max?

Wow, OK, so they just go straight into Max having powers

Wait, is Stinky dating Skunkape?

Not gonna lie, this tutorial is a bit tedious

Harry!

Ew, he's nearly nakey

Aw, Sam hugged Max to teleport

Max is a little too excited to be a bazooka

"Say hello to my little buddy!"

Oh thank God the tutorial is over

This narrator is super fucking pretentious and I want him to shut up

Sam patting Max's head in the opening is cute 🥺

It kind of ruins the surprise factor to have shown us so many of the toys so early tbh

Wait, why can Sam see Max's visions

Skunkape is full of bs

Omg what does this narrator have with actually starting at the beginning 😒

The Commissioner just called to check in I guess

Sam just treats Max developing powers casually

"Toys... toys... we must prepare the toys!" "That's just a typical Friday night for you, Sam!" 👀

"We could just give ourselves tongue baths, like cat and flight attendants do." "Well, OK I guess."

Seriously, how does someone walk away from these games an not realize these two are love interests

I accidentally went into the spaceship early

Oh hey, moleman death.

Also the brain is dead and we need to revive him

Superball!

Sam immediately pulling out his gun when Skunkape gets creepy with Max 🥰

"Does the general want a banana?"

Ok let's go back to the spaceship

Not sure if I like the future vision. I'm not the best at these puzzel type games but I'm worried it'll make it too easy.

Also what does skunkape want with the molemen?

C.O.P.S. are freeloaders now

They don't like Skunkape because he brought advanced technology to earth

Bluster Blaster went to Vegas with Bosco

The demons in the Desoto aren't so bad as long as we "don't turn on the ac."

"Why do we have jumper cables, neither of us know how to use them." "It's simple, Sam! The red cable clamps to the left nipple and the black cable--" "Neither of us know how to use them legally, Max."

Let's got to Stinky's!

Flint Paper us here!

Oooh, it looks different.

"Where do you keep all that change?" "In my sock, of course." "You're naked, where do you keep your sock?" "That's... none of your damn buisness."

"But your the only hairy, overweight, domineering control freak I need, Sam." "Gee thanks, Max. ...I think."

Let's talk to... Flint 😍

He just wants to focus on his spaghetti which, y'know, fair

Whoops, I made Sam try to sneak into the kitchen

Pfft ge immediately Blairs Max when he gets caught

Girl Stinky still refusing to call the boys by their names

Ok so the fry cook is missing and she's most likely lying about the power core

Of course we can't just take the demon broth

I missed Grandpa Stinky 👴

Wait, wouldn't Girl Stinky be his daughter, not his granddaughter?

Stinky knows about the space gorillas???

Time to go in the sewers!

Blah, Sybil and Abe are still together 😓

Let's visit Mama Bosco

Ooooh, Sam's scared of Mama Bosco's house

I just realized Sam and Max were the ones to cause her death (it was an accident but still)

Mama Bosco is trying

Sam & Max blipped out existence for a moment 😮

Max is refusing to go through the moleman tunnel

"I miss touching things." "Yeah, touching is my third favorite thing to do to things." *Sam and Mama give him weirded out looks* "In case anyone was curious, the second is licking."

Mama Bosco, honey, Skunkape is clearly evil

Mama basically confirming Max is going to explode. Is that where the angst comes in

Sam deliberately hitting the traffic cone made me laugh

Ok, I think I know what to do

Got the broth

Aw, Girl set herself and Gramps up for relationship councilsing.

Why the heck isn't Girl Stinky's cellphone number showing up!?

Omg I forgot to give Flint the helmet I'm so stupid that's why it didn't show up

Wait is Flint married to someone named Doris?

Flint though Stinky and Sam were in, ugh, "cahoots"

Oh, Doris is his allergy specialist

Ok, I got the battery

Yay, the brain is awake!

Oh, he almost rated us out to Skunkape by accident

Max has "the gift"

Max wants to pee on Skunkape

Superball!!!

"I'm president of the United States, why didn't I hear about it?" "It's explained in books, sir." "Oh, right."

Max holding Superball's hand 😭

Oh, wait can we go in the mole room

It's a giant toaster?

Ew all the mole juice is on the floor

Sam immediately goes to hug Sam for the teleport

"ENJOYING THE RIDE SAM!?"

"Note to self, when traveling through Max's brain, keep your eyes shut!"

I tried traveling to Sybil, it didn't work 😢

Oh, Girl Stinky's cellphone!

Oh, Grandpa Stinky has the badge

He gave all that money to Skunkape???

He's in skunkape's army now... great

Poor Max can't reach Stinky to kill him

Oh wait, I think I know what to do.

Haha suck it Gramps

Aw, Skunkape doesn't appreciate him 😢

Let's go back to Mama Bosco

Oooh, Shiny pidgeon

"It's an engagement ring." "Sam, this is so sudden! I-I don't know what to say!" "Quiet, bonehead!"

Can... Can I use the ring on Max?

I can!

The fact that Sam seriously considers proposing to Max right there has me like 🥺💕

At least they're married in the cartoon 💍

I'm just going to play that cutscene again

The doorgorilla won't let us in let's teleport

Ok then! We got thrown out

Let's use the crimetron

Aw, they named the thingy bobber from the sewer Carol

Oooh Pizza

The pigeon actually ate the phone

"Pick up that phone, Max." "I'm not touching it!" "*sighs*"

Oh cool, I like pawn shops

Sam, honey the fact that you could pick up a manhole cover at all is impressive. Those things can weigh anywhere between 70-300 lbs.

New headcanon that Sam has super strength, he's just oblivious to it

Haha, and I thought the space ape was going to slip on the peel

Oh wait, I think I just figured out how to get rid of the space apes at Momma Boscos

Hahaha gorilla fall on other gorilla

Ew, naked mole man

Max looking adoringly at the toy store

Oh, so this is the part they get kidnapped

Ew, the narrator is back 😕

"You'd be surprised just how many fetishes there are that involve Sam and me."

Oh, so Girl Stinky and Skunkape aren't dating

Skunkape sent her a dick pic?!?!?

Oh wow, he really turned it around on us, huh.

How did they not notice the bomb on Max's back until now

Sam smacked Max and now he's just.... hovering in the air

Well, that was easy to get out of

Mama Bosco saved us sort of

Queen 👑

Oh Momma, you crazy inventor

Oh, so we're turning their building into an alternate dimension

"You keep coming up with creepy disaster scenarios that always end with you eating me. It's getting annoying." "If you don't like it then stop looking so damned tasty."

Molemam cultists

The boys' first instinct upon seeing a creepy box is to pull a pandora

Max pointing and laughing as Skunkape gets sucked away is everything

Ew Narrator is back again

Skeleton Sam and Max????

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

🎉 TDRC Snippet Samples 🎉

even tho, I posted so many samples already, shhhh. 🎉🎉🎉 summon thee cake and the confetti bc I’m done with this draft after mid-feb since i started it. at first, i wrote it out of boredom, never imagining i’d be here, tbh. i assumed it’d be unfinished, untouched and left forgotten. but nah!! i surprised myself, tbh.

even tho, my former laptop doesn’t function anymore, i still wrote this to it’s entirety?? how shookening even for me. i’m slightly salty on the word count and how i had to toss some ideas away but. . . it’s completed, nonetheless! 🎉🎉🎉

for clarification: TDRC is a contemporary new adult story about two different people who meet in college and are driven by their dedication for what they do.

Snippet 1: hahaha, protag1 feeling sorta optimistic. . . hmm, not for long. . .

Now she's officially here to start a new path for her life and leave the miserable high school years. No one here has to know what happened there. She's going to keep it that way, planning to begin anew.

And who knows? Maybe she'll find new friends and interesting people to know. Maybe she can work hard and have fun for the next four years.

Snippet 2: tfw u freak out after impromptu physical contact

Ever since he was little, he had been wishing to get his hands on one of those books. He's aware of the more brutal parts of the stories, but he's mature enough to deal with it. He walks over, reaching out to the edge of the book.

When someone also gets a hold of the book, he freezes. Slim fingers rest over two of his gloved ones and he lets go of the book. He ducks his head and backs away.

Snippet 3: oof, protag2 goes through strike 1. 😬

"Whoa!" His feet slips over the slippery tile.

And he lands with his chin on the floor. It also sends his body flat along with his backpack and glasses.

Snippet 4: someone’s getting burned real hard for messing with teh wrong person.

She clicks her tongue, her jaw aching from her gritted teeth.

"What part of 'no' is me being jumpy? Herchins, when I told you to leave me alone, I meant it. It's called wanting to have personal space."

Snippet 5: whoops. . .it’s official. . . i’m on thin ice for this. . .

All this pent-up anger building up is going to make her blow up one day. It's going to push her to the edge if she doesn't get it together. Her sunken eyes appears on the reflective surface of the oval mirror. She can't get proper sleep since this year. From her useless routine to her family to her classmates, everything's toppling down on her. She's trapped and can't escape.

She exhales, pushing the air out of her lungs. Her chest rises and falls at the unsteady rhythm.

and that’s a wrap! after gruelling months of writing this, i can hop to another project and try to control the word count before it spirals, lmao. knowing me, i don’t think that will happen, tho. 😂😂😂 thanks for tuning in!

Tag-list beneath the cut.^^

@pagesofcursive, @huloglangit, @bookish--galaxy, @sleepysera, @ruby-overlock, @sleepy-night-child, @crystallized-ink, @thelaughingstag,

[molzies-fanfics]

Whoops

A/N: I’ve never actually broken anything so I hope this is somewhat accurate, also anon I’m really sorry I didn’t respond earlier but I hope you healed up well!

Parkour had been a hobby once upon a time, but you had started posting videos on the internet, gaining followers over the past couple of years which led to earning a lot of money. So this basically became your job, but wasn’t it everybody’s dream to enjoy what they did for a living?

 Although one day you were so caught up in your twists and flips from one surface to the next you didn’t notice that someone had spilt something…

 Waking up in the hospital was a nice surprise, a bump on the head and a broken leg was the more nasty one. God…you had no idea how your boyfriend was going to react.

Leo was an incredibly loving and careful boyfriend, sometimes you couldn’t picture your life without him…but right now? You really didn’t want him to come over and see the epic blunder you had gotten yourself into.

 He had texted about an hour ago, saying he would drop in when he would get the chance during patrol. It wasn’t like you could just say no! If you said no that would raise suspicions, leading to him coming over anyway. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t trust you, he just got concerned over whether you were getting kidnapped or not.

 Letting out a massive sigh, you sat up to try and reach for the tv remote, but moving resulted in tugging the skin trapped under your cast causing you to hiss in pain. “Y/N?” hearing a familiar voice, you whipped your head around meeting the bluest eyes you ever did see. “Hey Leo…” you tried to sound casual, failing miserably as his gaze focused on the dark blue cast. “Oh my god, Y/N what happened?” he questioned as he rushed to your side, cupping your face in his hands.

 “Well I was doing some parkour today and…I slipped.” You winced at the recollection. “Oh love, I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?” you were surprised in the change of conversation, originally thinking he was going to scold you for being so reckless, but you saw the concern etched into his features and knew he was being serious.

 “The TV remote and some water would be great?” you wondered if you were doing the right thing, taking advantage of this opportunity. “Of course.” He smiled before handing you the remote. With the TV flickering to life, you turned back to him. “I thought you would be mad.” You almost whispered to yourself. “I am a little bit. It’s just…my need to take care of you kinda overrules that.” Leo chuckled to himself as returned with your water.

 “Oh…well thanks.” You showed a weak smile before gulping down the glass. “Woah, slow down. You don’t want hiccups as well do you?” he laughed. You attempted to gulp down the lump in your throat as well. “I just realized…I won’t be able to work for so long now.” You gasped. “Love, you need time to heal, and that’s better than irritating the wound and starting all over again…isn’t it?” Leonardo rubbed circles into your shoulder. “I guess so.” You spoke into your glass.

 Leaning over to give your forehead a kiss, Leonardo leant his head against yours, staring into your eyes. “I’m here for you.”

Raph had squeezed through your window without even letting you know he was coming. You couldn’t decide whether it was nice of him to surprise you or inconsiderate if he scared you. But you knew this time it was you who was going to give him a shock. The red banded turtle lumbered through your living room before spotting you on the couch.

 “Hey…babe?” his tone changed as he spotted the cast trapping your leg. “Hi Raphie.” You greeted pathetically. “What the hell happened? Who did this to you?” he didn’t move as his temper soared, his features expressing a mix of pain, anger and regret. “No one did this to me! Well…unless you count myself.” You chuckled sadly. “…what?” he whispered.

 Shutting your eyes tight, you didn’t want to see the look on his face when you told him. “I hurt myself today whilst filming. I wasn’t looking where I was going, there was some water…I slipped.” You sighed, preparing for the worst. Expecting him to yell, stomp about, reminding you what you had done and how he would continue to until it was drilled into your mind how dangerous your job really was. Maybe even tell you not to go back to it…

 “Idiot.”

Surprised at the emotion in his voice, you opened your eyes to glance over your boyfriend. “What?” mumbling almost to yourself. “I said you’re an idiot. You should be more careful.” He almost smiled. Instead he sat down on the couch, bicep brushing against your uninjured foot. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.” You stumbled “You’re not mad?”

 “How can I? You’ve received the brunt of your mistake anyway, I don’t want to add to that.” He gave you a sad smile whilst rubbing your leg affectionately. “Aw…thanks Raphie.” you whimpered, still a bit emotional from a stressful day and Raph just had to go and be a sweetheart. “Oh hey…don’t cry.” He got up to move closer to you, shuffling himself under your back so you could cuddle.

 “Sorry…it’s just been a long day and I wasn’t expecting you to be so nice to me. My mom yelled at me so much today, complaining about how much the hospital would cost me especially since I won’t be able to go back to work now and earn the money back” you started to sob into his chest. “Shush, babe, everything will be alright. And if thing’s get tough around here you’re always welcome to come crash with us.” Raph suggested thoughtfully.

 “Your…your brothers won’t mind?” you sniffled, completely bypassing the thought that your boyfriend had practically asked you to move in with him, despite it being purely for your benefit. “Hell no, you’re family Y/N.”

 You ended up launching yourself at him then, ignoring the pain in your leg from the sudden movement as you latched your lips onto Raph’s.

 “You are so sweet, y’know that?”

 “It happens.” He chuckled.

Donnie was practically a doctor himself, so when you broke your leg and only found out when you woke up in hospital, you knew he was gonna be pissed. Not by the fact that you broke it in the first place, but maybe because you didn’t come to him about it. Face it, it would’ve been difficult to get to him with a broken leg but at least it would’ve been free and you would’ve been able to see your boyfriend in this difficult situation.

 Walking on crutches back to your apartment only to find out the elevator was out of order was a treat though. The cherry on top of this whole mess. After spending a whole hour, yes an HOUR, climbing the stairs with your cast on, you opened your door to be greeted by none other than Donatello.

 “There you are dove! I was starting to get…worried.” He was excited to see you before his eyes fell to your cast. Feeling way too tired for this, you were hoping he wasn’t about to start an argument. Closing the door before anyone in the hallway could see him, you turned around only to be met with a hug. Which was kind of difficult seeing as Donnie was six foot six.

 “What happened? Are you okay? Well, clearly not you’ve broken your leg! Do you need anything? Water? Hot water bottle? Do you need me to help scratch your leg? I’ve heard casts can be super scratchy.” Your boyfriend started to ramble. “Donnie! I’m fine, I just need to sit down. The elevator was out of order so I had to use the stairs.” You explained briefly before hobbling over to the couch. That was before Donnie scooped you up bridal style of course.

 “Let me take care of you.” He smiled warmly. You were too exhausted to say anything but “Okay.” Laying you down on the sofa, Donnie got you some snacks, blankets and put your favorite movie on. Curling up into his arms you realized how truly grateful you were to have a boyfriend like Donatello. Kissing him on the cheek, you gave him an exhausted grin, staring into his emerald orbs before placing your head in the crook of his neck.

 “I’m here for you always dove.”

 “Thank you Donatello.”

You couldn’t lie to Mikey, you couldn’t even keep a secret from him. His face was like a magnet for your affection, and that included being truthful. Which meant you had to tell him that you broke your leg and that was why you had to cancel your date. So, when you texted him without saying why, he immediately asked if he could come over instead. Knowing it was better to go this over with sooner rather than later, you said it was okay.

 Dreading the minutes in between the text and when he arrived, you sat there trying to get comfortable with, what felt like, an over sized cast. It was like slow torture on a mental and physical plane…which sucked. All you knew was that Mikey would be upset when he had seen what had happened, but he wouldn’t be angry…would he? You’ve never seen Mikey angry before, but that doesn’t mean he never had been angry. Anxiety started to build up in your chest, today had been challenging enough.

“Hey sweet cheeks! Sorry I took so long, want to pick up some pizza!” He chirped as he stumbled into your living room, leaving the window open. A draft picked up, causing you to shiver. As if sensing it, Mike picked up the nearest blanket, came over and wrapped you up in it. He then sat down next to you, completely ignoring your cast set on the pillow next to him, and took a slice out of the box.

“So how was your day?” He beamed. Sunlight was basically coming out of his cheeks at this point. “Uh…kinda horrible?” you chuckled to yourself, starting to find it funny that he hadn’t noticed yet. “Oh no, how come?” he then rubbed your leg. You gave him a look before gesturing to where his hand lay, looking down Mike finally put two and two together.

“Oh my god! What did you do?!”

“HAHAHA, I love you Mike.”