#michelangelo x jean

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

MEET MY OTP • Michelangelo Amato x Jean Liberati Edition

Jean Liberati

• Genderfluid - he/she/they

• Bisexual

• 🇮🇹 - 🇨🇵

• Ambivert

• Physical Touch - Quality Time

Michelangelo Amato

• Cis Male - he/him

• Bisexual

• 🇮🇹

• Introvert

• Physical Touch - Acts of Service

TROPES:

• Immortal x Mortal

• Strangers To Friends To Lovers

• Slow Burn

• Everyone Can See It

• Mental Power x Physical Power

• Clingy x Clingy

• You Saved My Life, So Now We're Friends

• Always Save The Boy

• Sickeningly Sweethearts

• Hurt/Comfort

-- ♡ -- ♡ --

Taglist : @randomestfandoms-ocs @eddysocs @that-demigirl @impales @ocfairygodmother If you want to be added send me an ask! 💚

[eowynstwin]

imprimatura

muses - part one - next

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Rating: Mature (mostly Soap being Soap) Warnings: please see this post for notes about this reader character Also on Ao3.

An artist meets her muse, and a solider meets his.

He arrives early as you’re setting up for your students, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and the first thing that crosses your mind when you lay eyes on him is Jesus, he’s fit. 

You are no stranger to bodies. Hundreds of them have cycled through your studio, all shapes and sizes and colors; you think you may know every dip, every roll, every hard angle and soft curve that a human body is capable of holding. The mystique of defined muscle has long lost its novelty. Bodies are bodies, and each holds the same value as the next when subject to brush and canvas. It never matters, you teach your students, what a body looks like in the modeling chair. It only matters if they can reproduce it accurately.

Even so, when a body like this walks in, you really can’t help but take notice.

Decadent muscle, fed and worked well, round and full with hydration. It’s impossible to miss, even through his clothes; each group delineated clearly, gracefully, as if sculpted rather than built, and alive with soft, subcutaneous movement. It’s indulgent to look at, the comfortable breadth of his shoulders and chest down to that slight taper of his waist and bulk of his thick thighs. It’s a physique no hard-bodied gym rat could hope to achieve merely with extra time at the racks—a physique that is easily, harmoniously attractive in its makeup of muscle and healthy fat.

The man is also mohawked and suntanned, and his mouth rests at an angle that suggests he often smiles—as if he knows that Michelangelo would have swooned at the sight of him. He comes into your classroom, saunters over to you, and stops precisely two paces away from you.

“Sergeant John MacTavish,” he says, offering his hand. “I understand you’re the instructor?”

He has gorgeous, vivid blue eyes (pthalo and cremnitz, with a touch of hamsa). You blink several times. Fit is still rattling around your skull, and begins knocking against sergeant at the same rolling frequency as his warm Scottish brogue. You realize his hand is still outstretched and quickly take it to shake.

“Yes!” you say. His palm is tough, callused, and not soft in the slightest, but very warm. “Nice to meet you, sergeant.”

He gives a grimace. “John’s fine. Or Soap.”

“Soap?”

“Nickname, y’know.”

Neither of you have released from the handshake. Soap’s grip is firm, the kind of firm that suggests he can squeeze much, much tighter if he needs to. And if the grip isn’t any indication, the broad forearms, dusted soft with dark brown hair, certainly are.

Black lines, a sword and helmet framed in laurels, catch your notice. The ink has the soft edges of having lain in the skin for a few years. You turn his arm to see it more fully. “Oh. Nice tattoo.”

He looks at the ink as if it is entirely new to him, and then gives an easy grin. “Thanks. I’ve got a few more too. Hope they aren’t hard to draw.”

When you loosen your grip on his hand, he releases you immediately. You still feel the squeeze in your bones even as you drop your hand to your side.

“So, then, Soap,” you say, “have you ever modeled before?”

He shakes his head, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans. It tugs the waistband just a bit, revealing a sliver of warm, tan skin (raw sienna, flesh ochre, naples yellow). “Should have, honestly, with how much it pays.”

“It gets very boring, very fast,” you say. “What do you plan to wear for the breaks?”

“Was I supposed to bring that m’self?”

You are unable to suppress a laugh. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and going a little sheepish—as if expecting a reprimand. You suppose it’s a valid expectation to have, in his world. You aren’t terribly familiar with the military, but you do know it’s one hell of a stickler for rules.

You also can’t help but admire the appealing pull and stretch of his bicep and deltoid, the flex of his pectoral as he lowers his arm. 

“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go see if I can find something for you?” you suggest kindly, letting him off the hook.

“Sorry,” he says, pretty blue eyes filled with genuine apology. “I’ll remember nex’ time. Thanks.”

The expression is so hangdog that you almost want to pat his head and noise at him reassuringly, like an actual dog. You press your lips together to hide a smile, and leave the studio.

When you get back from the models’ changing room, you find Soap with one hip against the counter where you’d been organizing your supplies, one knee loose and shoulders set at a relaxed angle. You want to laugh at his easy contrapposto. He’s going to be an excellent model. You can feel it. 

It looks as if he’s moving around the sticks of vine charcoal with one outstretched finger; he pulls his hand guiltily away when you reenter the studio, crossing his arms over his chest as if to hide the evidence of his snooping. It makes his pectorals bunch and round out, gathers the thickness of his biceps up into chiseled, full definition.

You lift one brow at him as you walk over.

“Never could keep my hands to m’self,” he admits, still sheepish.

“It’s alright,” you allow, smiling back. “Do you draw?”

“Used to,” he says. He looks back at the charcoal. “No time, now.”

“Are you deployed often?” you ask, taking the opportunity to look at his face. 

Beauty is cheap in art, but you notice it all the same—appreciate the strong brows, the hard angle of his jaw, the dark stubble of a beard you suspect he can’t keep shaved down, and the long scar that cuts through it across his chin. The light brown of his complexion is speckled with sun exposure, and there are the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, which you expect will deepen into genuine, gorgeous crow’s feet as he ages.

He’s not all rugged, though. There is a soft, thick curl to his lashes, which are as dark as strong coffee or expensive chocolate, and an equal decadence to the pink, plush little swell of his bottom lip—which, in the very middle, has the smallest of divots, as if he regularly spends time biting it. 

They’re traits that are far too sweet to belong on an otherwise masculine face, and their effect is such that they turn an objectively average set of features into a shockingly attractive portrait—that suddenly has something fluttering, just a bit, in the roof of your stomach.

He looks at you, and catches your survey. You can see him realize you’d been watching, the knowledge of it blooming in ocean blue eyes like ink dropped onto linen.

“More often than no’,” he answers, showing teeth in a crooked, interested grin. And now he’s looking at you—attention flitting across your face, dropping down your body and jumping back up to meet your gaze. The creases deepen at the corners of his eyes.

The fluttering intensifies. The sudden role reversal has you feeling at once flustered and unmoored. You are never the subject of any perusal—always comfortably the observer.

“Well—” you try, and you’re embarrassed at the low tone of your voice. You clear your throat. “Well, let’s make use of the time we have you, then.”

His smile remains, cocksure and easy. “Let’s.” 

He knows the effect he’s had.

“Anyway,” you say, blinking several times and proffering the sheet you’d retrieved, “none of the other models are your size, so I’m afraid this will have to do.”

He takes it in his hands, which are sun-dark and striking against the clean white linen. “So it’s a toga, then?” he asks.

“Whatever you like. Let’s go over the basics, and then you can undress.”

“Oh, already, aye? Y’move fast, hen,” he drawls, still grinning. “I like it.”

Heat rushes to your face, but you don’t feel embarrassed enough not to laugh. You busy yourself with tapping your charcoal sticks back in place, putting them back in an even row ascending in order of length, and saving yourself from having to look him in the eye. “Ha! We don’t do a lot of foreplay in this studio, I’m afraid.”

“No?” Soap hums, and he steps closer. He’s very warm, enough that you can feel it even with the space between you. You do have to look at him then. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheekbones as he gazes down at you. “That’s a shame. I’m right partial to it.”

Your brows lift, and you will your pulse to remain steady even as you inhale, catching a thread of—cologne? Aftershave? Just plain deodorant?—coming off of him. The scent caresses you, almost beckoning you to lean forward. You swear you can see the thrum of his heartbeat, there in the soft hollows by his Adam’s apple.

You blink. He is your model. “Well—I’ll try to set you up as best I can, anyway. Follow me, please.”

And you turn your back on him, because this is your workplace, and you are at work, and if you don’t get on with things you might do something stupid like actually flirt back.

Soap hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived at the art studio. He’s never been to one before, much less one housed in a university—which he has also never been to—and hell, he only ever took one art class in high school.

If pressed, he’d have imagined old brick walls covered in diagram posters, shelves of supplies in all colors, the smell of paint hanging permanently in the air. What he finds instead is modern, clean, and impersonal. Stage lights hang from fixtures in the ceiling, pointing at a platform in the back center of the room. A tight line of easels, all folded up, stand pressed into a far corner, next to a tower of stacked chairs, and waist-high cabinets line half the room against the bare, painted cinder block wall. The linoleum floor looks new.

None of this, however,  has any opportunity to disappoint him. His final unmet expectation, standing across the room and organizing a tray of art supplies, is a very welcome surprise.

You’re bonnie. Like, every point on his wishlist bonnie. Christ, he must’ve done something really good lately, because he can’t imagine just lucking into this. There’s not a hard angle to you, all sweet and soft, but when you meet his gaze during introductions there’s a sharpness to you that skewers him through the chest. You are much smarter than him, he can tell immediately. 

He’s always had a thing for smart women. Soft ones, too.  And if that weren’t enough, you let him flirt shamelessly with you, while checking him out the whole time.

Steaming Jesus.

You direct him to get onto the platform and sit down, still clothed, in an armchair draped in another pristine white sheet. The stage lights are bright overhead, and they highlight free-floating wisps of your hair in gold. 

“You want to ensure that you don’t rest your weight on only one or two points,” you explain. You have a nice voice. Steady, confident—this is your territory, your studio, and in it you are clearly the master. “The main danger is that your arms or legs might fall asleep, and you won’t realize it until you get up, in which case you’ll fall. We can’t touch you, so we can’t save you from that.”

“Y’canna touch me?” Soap repeats.

“Not without your explicit consent,” you say.

He smiles at you, the kind of smile he saves for bright nights at the pub over platoons of shot glasses. “I explicitly consent to you touching me.”

The corners of your mouth tug upward, just a bit, and you look away, clearly bashful. Something in Soap’s chest starts beating a drum. He knows already he’ll ask you to drinks after the class ends tonight.

“I doubt I’d be able to do much,” you say, “you’re a bit more substantial than the usual models.” Your eyes flick down his torso and back up.

“Guess I’ll have to follow your advice, then,” he says.

“You should,” you say, and he looks at your thigh shamelessly as you pat it—even beneath your jeans, he can see the ripple of the impact. “One of the worst-case scenarios is nerve damage.”

“So you have done this before!”

He can’t help it—Soap’s imagination runs wild. Titanic, draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls wild. It’s not exactly polite to imagine a teacher naked while she’s in the middle of giving him directions (and Jesus, what a concept, he might be half-mast already), but Soap has always found that people like it when he’s a little rude.

You drum your fingers. “I have.”

He finally hears the nerve damage part of your instruction. “How, uh—how bad can it get?”

The drumming stops. “For me? It just starts to twinge a bit if I sit on this side very long. So don’t rest your weight all on one hip, yeah?”

Concern assuaged that he had not ignored your genuine pain in order to objectify you, Soap grins. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Also—even if it doesn’t hurt, Soap, you can stop at any time, okay?”

That has him blinking. “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesnae?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. This is your first time modeling. You don’t know how you’ll feel, sitting here with your clothes off and everyone looking at you. If you need to stop, I want you to stop. I’ll make sure you’re paid anyway, so don’t worry about that.”

You are…so serious about this. The line of your brows is furrowed, imploring, like a little discomfort on his part is a violation of the highest order.

“Sure,” he says, a little dumbstruck and mostly lying. He’d be a rubbish soldier if he tapped out of a little thing like sitting down, but it’s nice that you care.

You purse your lips, nod, and then move onto the task at hand, stepping back and then down off the platform. When you begin to survey him—gaze flitting up and down his body, more pensive than appreciative—he has to resist the urge to flex.

Instead he watches you as you look at him. He especially likes, he decides, the slope of your nose and the smart, serious press of your mouth. You could get him all turned around, he thinks, if you gave it half a try.

Your tits are also great, but that’s by the by.

“Try resting your elbow up a little higher, and twist at the hips a bit,” you instruct, and Soap obeys. “Hm. How would you feel about crossing your ankles?”

You continue like this—nudging him in directions he doesn’t think make all that much of a difference, standing in different positions around the room to check the angles. He half-wishes he could step out of his body and join you, curious as he is about what you’re seeing, what your students will see. He’s not sure he has any clear expectations for how the class will go, but if you’re any indication, it’ll be more fun than he expects.

“Not sure if I’ll remember how to get back into this,” he says, partly to be helpful and partly to get you to talk to him again.

“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you say. “Okay, I think that’s a good one, you can move now—I’m going to start setting up, the students should be here any minute.”

He stands, and you turn away to collect your supplies, so Soap figures this means it’s time for him to strip. He pulls off his shirt and drapes it over the chair’s arm, unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his knees.

“Soap!”

He freezes. Then he looks at you. You’re blushing again, deep and saturated, mouth parted in surprise and hand pressed to your chest. He does not miss the quick flick of your gaze down his body; he’s probably violated some rule or another of the studio, but he can’t help but grin.

You’re adorable.

“Gotta happen eventually, right?” he says.

You cover your face with your palm. “I was going to leave the room first!”

“First time someone’s wanted to run away when I’m takin’ my clothes off, I won’t lie—”

“You just come get me when you’re done!” you say hastily as you beeline for the door. “I’ll be right outside!”

Soap chuckles a little when you’re gone, the door slamming mortified behind you, and folds his clothes up behind the armchair he’ll be sitting in. You’re so cute. He can’t wait to sit naked for you for the next three hours.

And he’s definitely asking you out for drinks.

Author's Note: THE PROMISED FIC. I really hope y'all enjoy this one, I've been teasing it since March and I have so many plans. This fic has a special place in my heart because it's drawing heavily from my college days--my bachelor's degree is in fine arts, and I have a lot of fond memories of many hours in the studio both as a student and as a model.

I expect this series will also have a looser timeline than my Neighbors series, so I'm open to suggestion in terms of scene ideas! I already have plenty, but if I know my mutuals, y'all might have some good ones as well. No promises I'll write them, but you never know.

Thanks everyone for your patience, and I hope you'll look forward to where this fic goes!!

[eclipsedrgn]

Left Behind (3)

Pair: Bayverse!Leo x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's been 6 months since coming back to New York. Will you forgive the Turtles for their mistake?

Warning: implied sex, mentions of sex

A lot has changed since you came back from supposed death.

Splinter has explained to the turtles about your death and was furious, they didn't trust you much afterwards. Unlike the other three, Michelangelo tried his best to be around you even though became cold and disconnected. He misses his best friend, you coming back was the best thing that happened to him in a long time. So the fact you barely even acknowledge him or his brothers hurt him a lot.

The first three months were painful for you and for the four turtles, you all barely spoke to each other and only you visit the sewers to see Splinter and told him news about the Ancient One and why you've come back to New York.

The fourth month is when Raph let his anger out on you. You were coming by the lair to tell Splinter the news your team will be arriving in two months time, you wanted to ask him for permission to have Gojo and Geto over at the lair to discuss planning when you encountered Raphael leaning against the entrance of the lair. You gave him the cold shoulder and was about to go around when he yelled at you, telling you how much you've hurt his family.

Which ended up you telling him the truth, how they all thought you were weak and you didn't bring anything to the team, how depressed you got and the only way to live your life is to move on and away from them. Raph didn't know what came over him as he presses his rough lips against yours, sexually frustrated for a while now, you responded as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands placed on your ass lifting you from the ground.

That night you unintentionally slept with Raphael.

The next morning, Mikey found you sneaking out of the hothead's room holding your jeans in your hands as you borrowed his t-shirt. And that day, you had a talk with everyone.

About you.

You all gathered around the dining table eating pizza, their usual meal, Splinter sat at the head of the table as everyone ate silently.

"I believe (Y/n) has something to tell us" Splinter announces.

"About what?" Raph says walking in, he snatches a cup of coffee and drinking it.

"Why I faked my death and came back alive" you stated, glancing at Splinter who gave you a stern nod.

You take a deep breath. "So... you still think I'm weak?"

The turtles froze.

"Here" you said bringing out evidence of the Foot Clan you've been gathering for a month. "Still think I didn't bring enough to the table?"

"Or are we gonna pretend that I've been nothing but an ordinary girl sitting on the couch doing nothing"

The tension thickens as you stood from your stop slamming down your hand. "I fucking sacrificed a lot being your friend, I never took you for granted because I loved you guys and all you did was talk behind my back how I'm worth nothing"

"I didn't say anything..." Mikey frowns.

"No but Raphael did, Donatello oh let's not forget Leonardo. What happened then? The hothead complains so everyone joins in?" You spat.

"And you!" You pointed at Leo. "You were suppose to have my back. You decieved me"

Another silence fills the air.

No one knew how to respond, even Splinter who walked out knowingly this is his son's responsibility. You angrily wipe off the tears gathered in your eyes, you hated feeling weak and for the past two years and a half all you've done is prove to yourself that your tough. You can handle things. And if things got all tough, you'd be find because you know you can surpass it.

"I have another month to go before I leave to go back to Japan" you announced.

"You're leaving?" Mikey said sadly.

"You just arrived. I know we barely talked but is there anything we can do to make it up to you" Donnie begs.

"You know it was just banter" Raph spoke up, his voice gentle, totally different from the night before. "We didn't mean to hurt you badly"

"Banter or not, its not an excuse" Leo said, standing up as he takes you hand. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you, I'm sorry that I didn't look for more evidence you supposed killed you. I'm sorry"

You gave him a sad smile, "I... I've been wanting to hear that for the longest time. I'm sorry I caused you the pain. Especially..."

Especially you know you had to save me those five times.

Leonardo wrapped his arms around you, as you hugged him back tightly and willingly. The others joined in, hugging you as tight as possible. From Leo's shoulder, you looked up making eye contact with Raph. You both knew what happened the night before was a fluke and won't be happening again, and you both knew, that secret will end up biting you back on your asses.

[xtreklx]

Summer Heat ~ Michelangelo x reader

One shot: bayverse Michelangelo x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: thank you all for the love on my latest works! it's so motivating and it has been helping me access my creativity in so many new ways! anyways, with the summer months here, this is just a fun little summer-themed one-shot that I thought up for our favorite jokester. enjoy!

__________

It was mid-July, the boiling point of summer, and in New York City, this meant humidity. Everywhere. While you were able to hang out in the sewers with your mutant turtle friends for a slight escape from the temperature, it was still hotter than you would have liked, and you were trying desperately to keep cool.

Hence why you and the turtles were sprawled throughout the lair, barely able to move because of the suffocating heat. Normally, you were all able to push through the summer days and go about your usual routines, but today was supposed to be the hottest day of the year (Donnie didn't trust the weather channel, however, and ran his own predictions to confirm that this was going to be the case). Thus, routine was abandoned and any attempts at relaxation were welcomed.

You could hear Donnie fumbling around in the lab from your horizontal spot on the living room couch. The three other brothers were in the living room with you: Raph in the arm chair ("there ain't no way I'm workin' out in heat like this"), Leo meditating in the corner ("I think this might be the only way to make the situation more bearable"), and Mikey sprawled out in the middle of the floor, periodically exclaiming "I don't know how much longer I can take the torture! The agony!" Although his brothers rolled their eyes at his overly-dramatic outbursts, none of them had the energy to protest, and it made you giggle every time.

Mikey loved the sound of your laugh. Like music to his ears, angels chorusing from the heavens. He had decided that it had to be his favorite sound in the universe. He looked up at you now from his spot on the floor, admiring how you looked as you lounged on the couch, practically nodding off into a summer nap. How could he help having feelings for you when you were out here looking like that?!

You had no idea that there was a double meaning behind Mikey's outbursts. While he was primarily referring to the torture of the paralyzing heat, he was also referring to the torture that you were causing him today. The hot weather had you wearing the tiniest little outfit: daisy duke jean shorts and a tight white tank top. He could see so much of your skin, a thin layer of sweat glistening in the overhead lights and making you look like you were glowing. He called you an angel all the time to your face, but he was serious; you looked like a straight-up angel. And with the way you were laying on the couch on your back, he was able to let his eyes roam all the way up your long legs, up to your waist, up to your chest...

Mikey had to shake himself out of his current thoughts before they went off the deep end. He was a gentleman-ly, respectable dude, he thought to himself. And even though he had feelings for you, the two of you were just friends. He couldn't let his mind go too far; it wasn't right. It made Mikey think about all the lectures that Master Splinter had given in the past about temptation and desire, and how giving in to them too frequently could result in an "unquenchable greed". But he was determined to not give in. Splinter would be proud of him for the restraint he was exhibiting!

As this was all running through his mind, Mikey unconsciously sent another glance your way. You had flipped over to lay on your stomach, your perfect ass in those tiny jean shorts taking over his line of sight. He quickly re-averted his gaze, trying to focus on anything but you.

God, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Suddenly, Donnie rushed out of his lab and into the living room with something in his arms. "Guys! I think I've crafted something that could help us get through the summer heat!" He exclaimed. Everyone turned their heads at the sound of that, even Leo breaking out of his meditative state.

Donatello set whatever was in his arms onto the side table next to the couch and plugged it into an extension cord by the wall. "I was messing with the settings of one of our old mini-fridges, and with the addition of a few new pieces of machinery, I was able to turn it into a flash freezer! We can put any liquid into these popsicle trays here," he gestured to the inside of the mini-fridge, "and it will freeze instantly! Pretty cool, right?"

Everyone present stared at the contraption, an awkward moment of silence falling over the group.

"I'm going to go meditate in my room," Leo deadpanned, standing from his spot in the corner, while Raph groaned. "Really, Donnie? You wanna solve the heat wave with... popsicles? Why don't ya put a giant band-aid on the melting ice caps while yer at it?"

But you and Mikey had eagerly sat up to attention as the two grumps left the living room. "Don't listen to them, Donnie! I think this is the perfect idea," You beamed up at him. Mikey had to avoid looking at your dazzling smile too closely in order to form coherent sentences. "Yeah, dude! Don't listen to those buzzkills, this is so sick!" He looked closer at the machine. "So, it'll really freeze anything instantly? Like... anything?"

Don eyed Mikey warily for a moment. "... I don't think I want to know what you're thinking when you say anything like that but, in theory, yes. Let me demonstrate." He pulled a can of orange crush from a box on the floor and poured it into two popsicle holders, adding two straws as the sticks, before putting them into the mini-fridge and closing the door. He pressed a button on the outside, and then the machine beeped. When he opened the little door, a gust of cold air flew out, and from the holders he pulled out two orange soda popsicles.

You and Mikey awed and wowed in excitement, taking the popsicles from Donnie and thanking him. He smiled, and picked up the mini-fridge. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make a large batch of grape soda popsicles. And I'm definitely not going to use them as ammo in my grenade launcher towards Raphael and Leonardo. That would be ridiculous." He stood there for a moment with a calculated look on his face before turning and heading back to his lab.

You and Mikey exchanged a pointed look before simultaneously cracking up at the thought of what Donnie was definitely going to be up to later that day. When your laughter had died down, you took your first lick of the orange soda popsicle and hummed with happiness. "Mmm, this is awesome! Orange crush is my favorite!" You exclaimed, putting it back in your mouth.

Mikey gulped as he watched you suck on the popsicle, your eyes drooping and another hum of approval sounding from your mouth. Come on bro, you can do this. Everything is fine, everything is fine, he thought to himself. He took a moment to try the popsicle, too, and couldn't help but agree with you. "Yeah, Leo and Raph are definitely missing out. Don't worry, angelcakes, luckily I'm not as much of a Debbie freaking downer as they are."

You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, the popsicle still in your mouth. You pulled it out with a pop, but with the hot weather, some of the orange soda had already begun to melt.

Mikey watched the moment pass as if it happened in slow motion: the orange liquid trailed off your bottom lip and down your chin before dripping onto your chest, running down the exposed, supple skin and meeting the white fabric of your tank top.

Oh, boy. Everything is not fine.

The poor turtle froze as his mind launched down the gutter. He couldn't help his staring at you, drinking in the vision that you had so accidentally just granted him. He couldn't help the want that spread like fire within his chest. He was definitely experiencing greed, and it was definitely the unquenchable kind.

While Mikey was lost in his thoughts, you looked down at your spill. "Ugh, I just washed this top!" You exclaimed, rubbing your chin and examining the bright orange stain for a moment before shrugging. "Oh, well. I guess the popsicles really will help us cool off!"

You turned to your friend, who had gone slightly pale and was standing up from his spot on the floor, his popsicle sticking halfway out of his mouth. "Mikey, are you okay? You don't look so good. Is the heat getting to you?" You asked him from the couch, sitting up straighter with concern.

"Ummmmm, yea-- I mean.. no! Actually, I just remembered, uhhhh... there's.. something I'm supposed to talk to Master Splinter about. I'll be right back!"

[ask-sister-solaris]

I can’t find the master list thing I did so a new one IG:

My commissions are open! Here’s my Ko-Fi

For now I am only doing busts of OCs and canon characters. Doing full bodies took a toll on my mental health, though I might do waist up if you ask nicely /hj

𝐏𝐟𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠: @kabukiaku

NSFW asks now open! Now I’m officially 18 and have full control of my account.

Things I won’t do:

- incest

- r@pe

- sexual assault/harassment

- non con

- pedophilia

Ghost Band

- Primo

- Secondo

- Terzo

Cook!reader

Aftermath with Terzo

“Amore mio your as beautiful as the day I met you”

“See something you like amore?”

“Now and forever Amore”

“I’m always here amore”

- Copia / Frater Imperator

Copia with an s/o that’s practically a soundboard

Copia meets your friends

Dracopia

Copias chaos!ghoul

Copia Confessing to you

Copia X buff!reader

Antichrist Copia

“Stay with me”

First meeting copia (he gets aroused)

“I’ll never leave Amore”

“Choose to run away with me?”

Dracopia Angst

“SOS he’s in disguise”

“Love me, Love me, Love me, Love me”

Copia with a buff!reader

RHRN Copia angst

RHRN: Don’t you forget about your friend death

“Lucifer, whispering silently into your mind”

“Eyes on me Cara Mia” (18+ MDNI)

- most of the ghouls

- ocs

- Young Nihil

“No your never alone”

“Satanas your beautiful”

“Just wanna be with Chu in the moonlight”

- Mixed Headcanons

Touch starved s/o

Ghostbusters

- Ray Stantz

“Back off she’s a scientist and my girlfriend”

“It’s ok we can fight it one little bite at a time”

“Comfy”

“Wait me?”

- Peter Venkman

“He’s a slime ball”

- Egon Spengler (my beloved)

“It’s called a floor nap”

“What. Just. Happened”

“What’s Up Doc?”

“Spengs got a date before Venkman”

“Baby Fever”

“How can you just…stand there?”

“Your arts amazing”

“Your doing good, I’m proud”

“I promise your ok dove”

“Breath with me dove”

“Radio Static”

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me again”

“Peppered Kisses”

“You messed with the wrong scientist”

“I told you so..are you crying?”

- Winston

- Phoebe Spengler

- Old man Egon

“See you again”

- Old man Ray

- Old man Peter

- Old Man Winston

- Polyamory with the ghostbusters

“I promise you’ll be safe with us”

“We love you, and each other”

OCs:

- Sal Stantz (Ghostbusters)

- Janet Venkman (Ghostbusters)

- Violet Brett (Ghostbusters)

- Green Diamond (Steven Universe)

- Plum Diamond (Steven Universe)

- Queen Bee/Janet Carter (BATIM)

- Sei Emeritus/Papa V (Ghost Band OC)

- Sen Morrison (Later Emeritus) (Ghost Band OC)

- Ophelia (One Piece OC)

Baby Boom

- Steven Buchner (Harold Ramis’ character)

"Lets just focus on the dinner..and us"

Steven Universe

- Pearl

- Garent

- Amethyst

- White, Yellow and Blue Diamond

BATIM

- currently nobody romantically

- most of the characters platonically

One Piece:

I haven’t seen a lot of it but I’ll be writing as I watch.

Anime:

- Monkey D Luffy.

- Rorona Zoro

- Nami

- Usopp

- Sanji

- Buggy The Clown Pirate

- Smoker

- Ace

- Princess Vivi

- Chopper (in a platonic way)

- Dracule Mihawk

Live action:

- Dracule Mihawk

- Buggy The Clown

“I promise I’ll do better”

- Vinsmoke Sanji

“Kitty Claws”

- Shanks

- Zoro

- Nami

JJBA

Part 1:

- Jonathan Joestar

- Dio Brando

- Erina Pendleton

Part 2:

- Joseph Joestar

- Caesar Zepelli

Part 3:

- Jotaro Kujo

- Old Joseph Joestar

- Old Caesar Zepelli (AU where he’s alive)

- Noriaki Kakyoin

- Jean Pierre Polnareff

- Muhammad Avdol

Part 4:

- Josuke Higashikata

- Nijimura Okuyasu

- Rohan Kishibe

- Older Jotaro Kujo

- Older Noriaki Kakyoin (AU where he didn’t die)

Part 5:

None as of yet, as I haven’t watched it.

Part 6:

- Jolyne Kujo

- Old man Jotaro Kujo (again fuck canon he doesn’t die)

- old man Noriaki Kakyoin (fuck it he doesn’t die)

Live action Part 4:

- Jotaro Kujo

- Nijimaru Okuyasu

- Josuke Higashikata

- Koichi Hirose

Doki Doki Precure:

- Mana Aida/Cure Heart

- Aguri Madoka/Cure Ace

- Rikka Hishikawa/Cure Diamond

- Makoto Kenzaki/Cure Sword

- Alice Yotsuba/Cure Rosetta

TMNT:

2012:

Leonardo

Donatello

Raphael

Michelangelo

Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Shredder/Oroku Saki

Rise

Leonardo

Donatello

Michelangelo

Raphael

April O’Neil

Casey Jones

Casey Jones JR.

Bayverse Movies

Leonardo

Donatello

Raphael

Michelangelo

Splinter

Shredder/Oroku Saki

Casey Jones

That’s it..

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Butterfly Kisses & Lavander Fields {One Shot}***

Title: Butterfly Kisses & Lavander Fields {One-Shot} ***

Rege Jean Page x GF Reader

Warning: Cursing, Fluff, NSFW, SMUUT, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 8.7k

Summary: You and Rege have been together for several months but have both been so busy you haven’t had time to bask in your coupledom. Now with a much-needed vacation only hours away will the two of you finally get to enjoy some R&R couple’s style?

 As always, thank you guys for reading. I appreciate it & you. 

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

 ***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

 ~~~~~~

 "Good morning sunshine."

 Your eyelids fluttered for several moments before they finally opened and found a beautiful pair of deep russet brown eyes on you through your facetime call. He slowly smiled and your insides turned to mush like a freshly roasted marshmallow still hot to the touch.

 "Jesus Christ, you're so beautiful in the morning. How is it bloody fair?"

 You smiled widely feeling like the actual sun; warm, bright, and jubilant. This man always had you feeling this way. You didn’t know how he did it. You didn’t know if he even knew his effect.

 "You shouldn't be talking. I'm talking to an actual bloody statue of the perfect man. David who? Michelangelo who? Yo’ mama did that!"

 Regé smiled his dorky but completely heart stopping smile. He was really meant to be a movie star. He had the looks, the charisma, and the megawatt smile.

 "I woke up like this," he teased.

 You giggled as you rolled onto your back and stretched. You then held the device in the air over you giving him a different angel.

 "Wow. What a view!”

His mouth was slightly agape as his eyes looked over every inch of you that you were showing him. Biting his bottom lip, he shifted in his bed; you could see more of his exposed chest, and you were grateful for that. He had every right to be shirtless matter of fact he should be that way all the time. You remembered the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. It was an accident as you’d walked into his trailer without knocking and there he stood in jeans that were hung dangerously low on his hips unbuttoned and shirtless in front of a full-length mirror. You’d stood there stunned silent and still and you couldn’t help but ravage all the skin on display. He was hot and from the half-cocked smile he’d given you over his shoulder he knew it too.

 “Eh-em. Wow, I’m sorry sunshine I zoned out.”

 “It’s okay, I guess I’m just that boring,” you teased.

 Regé playfully rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it, you and I both know you are not boring, and I was just mesmerized by your beauty as I always am.”

 You raised your hand to your mouth then smiled widely, unable to hide your cheesy schoolgirl grin that would tell him just how head over heels you were for him. It had happened so fast, so effortlessly that you didn’t have a set time, day or moment when it happened.

 “What are you thinking when you look at me like that?”

 Your eyes widened as heat rushed across your face. There was no way you could tell him—not yet.

 “Uh—uh—well—nothing,” you blurted.

 Regé snorted, “Liar.”

 You giggled as you avoided his gaze.

 “It’s okay though. Keep your secrets, sunshine.”

 You rolled onto your side and propped your iPad on the pillow beside you.

 “I see suitcases. Are you all packed and ready to go?”

 “I am.”

 Your excitement bubbled inside you remembering that in a few short hours you’d be getting on a plane to meet Regé and then you’d be off for an extended vacation with him, your first together.

 “God you’re going to make me an impatient man smiling at me like that.”

 “Are you feeling impatient?”

 “Better believe I am. I haven’t touched you in a month. I hate that.”

 You did too. When you’d accepted his proposal to be his girlfriend ten months ago you knew who he was. Being a stylist and costume designer in the industry, you knew the life of an actor. You knew busy schedules, insane amounts of stamps in a passport, long days and even longer nights and lengthy trips away from loved ones. He wasn’t the only one who had those same demands placed on him.

 With your four clients you currently had your hands full with meeting their expectations for styling. Your schedule had been booked for the majority of your relationship and it was the same for Regé which meant you didn’t go through the whole physically obsessed with each other phase that most went through in new relationships. You’d been physically together maybe two and a half weeks in every month, but it didn’t have the effect most would think. It enhanced other parts of your relationship.

 You were able to see the many sides of him away from his body, or the effects his touch had. You were able to learn his preferences deeper than the surface. You were able to learn his quirks, his mind, his heart and every single nuance that made him the man he was. The absence you endured made the times you were together so much better. Every lite touch of his hand sent your heart into overdrive. Every press of his lips on yours, or your forehead, or neck easily made you wet. Hell, the sight of him did that too.

 “I hate it too,” you concurred.

 The absences made your relationship stronger and made your heart fonder, but you really were looking forward to this long stretch of time you’d get together with no work distractions. He’d promised you four weeks and you were planning on cashing in on every single second.

 Regé’s eyes went all doe like and seductive then he licked his bottom lip, “Don’t worry, seven hours then I can finally wrap my arms around you.”

 Your belly did flips as your nether regions moistened. Jesus, you thought. there was no way you’d make it through these four weeks un-fucked. It was going down the only question in your head was when.

 ~~~~~~~~

 -2-Weeks Later-

The warm Italian sun kissed your body blazing its heat all over. You moaned as a gentle breeze brush against you cooling the heat of your skin.

 “Ah,” you sighed.

 This was heaven. You were already used to the feeling of complete relaxation. It hadn’t taken long at all. The moment you’d stepped off that jet 2 weeks ago and looked into the impossibly blue sky that was over the equally impressive ocean you felt carefree. Now, you didn’t have to open your eyes to know the same azure skies looked down on you as you sunbathed on this yacht. You couldn’t help but sigh again. An actor’s life was the life for you.

 Suddenly, your skin cooled making you wonder if there was an unplanned overcast in the sky. You were tempted to lift off your eye mask and look but your body was way too releaxed to move. Something cold then grazed your shin drawing a path along the skin there up your leg, across your knee to the top of your inner thigh. You smiled softly knowing just who this was.

 “Is this your way of telling me I’m too hot for you to handle?”

 He didn’t answer, instead he continued the trail of the cold item until he was not going across your stomach, up the center of your body to your chin. He then traced your bottom lip, and you knew then it was ice.

 “Say ah.”

 You obeyed then tastes the sweetness of strawberry and the tang of lemon all in a cold frozen mix. Moaning, you sucked on the popsicle savoring the contrasting flavors. All the while you sucked, you moaned until suddenly Regé pulled it from your lips. In protest, you pursed your lips more then pulled off your eye mask. The man before you took your breath away. How the hell was one man so beautiful, you wondered to yourself. Regé’s eyes were dark, hooded and spellbinding.

“If I had known all I needed to do to have you look at me like this was to suck your popsicle I would have done it long time ago,” you teased.

 The corner of his mouth turned up before he smiled softly. “Is that right?”

 You smiled, licked your bottom lip and nodded. “If I promise to look at you like this from now on, will you do it again?”

 You snorted, losing the battle.

 “So fresh,” you said while playfully swatting his bare chest.

 “Hey, it was you who brought up sucking my popsicle not me,” Regé protested.

 “Right and you were the innocent bystander completely drawn in by this Jezebel.”

 Regé smiled again lowering himself over you, blocking out the heat of the sun completely but replacing it with the heat of his body.

 “Jezebel, oh no no no. I hold you in much higher regard than that. Jezebel just won’t do,” he teased.

 Your brow cocked while your lips quirked. “Oh really?”

 His eyes dipped to your lips as he nodded. “Absolutely. Sorceress, perhaps, enchantress maybe, or—goddess.”

 His lips were right above yours as he trailed the popsicle across them again, the whole time he kept his dark maple syrup eyes remained glued to yours. Suddenly his lips spread into a smile.

 “Yes, goddess. I like that. My goddess.”

 “Yours?”

 He nodded.

 “If I am yours then shouldn’t I be praised or—worshiped?”

 There was that smile again, you said to yourself as he focused on you as if you were his afternoon snack. His eyes slowly sank to your mouth as your tongue snaked out to lick at the melting sweet liquid.

 “You are absolutely right. You deserve praise, worship, tributes, and devotion. Here is my first.”

 Regé dipped down and pressed his lips to yours trapping the popsicle between you. Moaning, you matched his movements kissing him just as fiercely as he kissed you. Your moans melded together and as your kiss intensified the popsicle melted from your combined heat. Bringing your hands up, you dug your fingers into his hair and gave as good as you got. Regé moaned when your tongue snaked around his to suck. He then pressed his chest to yours leaving not even a centimeter.

 Within seconds, your hands were roaming down his toned back and you were enjoying every inch of skin you got your hands on. These last two weeks the two of you had quickly gotten into a groove and comfort with one another and often touched one another. There was no part of the day you spent together where you weren’t touching somewhere. Even while you slept, in the same bed now, you touched. The only time you weren’t was when either of you were showering or using the bathroom.

 Touching him had quickly become your new obsession.

 Regé groaned before he pulled away pressing his forehead to yours panting.

 “Mercy, Y/N. Mercy I beg of you.”

 You smiled and released him bringing your hands to rest over your head.

 “Mercy granted.”

 Regé took a deep breath trying to steady himself, then he pulled back slightly.

 “I came over for a reason and that reason wasn’t to seduce or be seduced.”

 You smiled. “No? Well good thing I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

 He didn’t look convinced one bit and that made you laugh. “Okay what did you come over for?”

 Regé sighed, “To ask you on a date this afternoon.”

 Your smile faded for a moment as you took him in. This was one of the many reasons you’d fallen in love with him. His ability to take your breath away with the simplest gesture was astounding.

 “A date?’

 “Yes. There is somewhere I want to take you.”

 You caressed Regé’s cheek then smiled.

 “So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me in about two hours?”

 Your smile widened as your belly fluttered. “Yes,” you whispered, not being able to muster anything else.

 The way he lit up didn’t help the swarm of butterflies taking flight in your belly. He kissed you once, then twice.

 “Good. Meet you on docking level in two hours.”

 “Okay.”

 He kissed you twice more then he was gone leaving you with the popsicle. As you watched him walk away your eyes were glued to his ass. He had such a great one and you’d seen it twice already. The first when you’d both gone skinny dipping on a whim your first night on the ship, and the second when he’d loosened his towel just before he closed the bathroom door giving you a view of one perfectly toned and shaped ass cheek. You wanted to squeeze it so badly.

 Dropping back down onto your back you ferociously bit at the popsicle that was now practically slush. You were massively sexually aroused. You lived on the line of continuous arousal. It had gotten so bad you’d begun to wonder if you’d turned into a sex maniac without even ever having sex with him. None of your friends knew how you’d gone so long without one of you pouncing the other. It was honestly a perplexing miracle it still hadn’t gone down seeing how the last 2 weeks had gone.

 You lost yourself in your thoughts for the next several minutes going over the many ways you’d intentionally and unintentionally teased each other. The ways your bodies just craved to be against each other no matter what you were doing. There was this certain aura around him that made him irresistible and every woman you’d encountered clearly saw it too. A loud ship’s horn brought you back to reality. Your popsicle was juice, and you were all sticky in more ways than one.

 Once in your room—the room you’d been sharing with Regé for the last two weeks, you showered taking your time to use the delicious smelling body conditioner you’d picked up from a mom-and-pop natural beauty store. It smelled like a tropical vacation mixed with country flowers. You didn’t know how they’d been able to mix the two, but you were glad they did. As you allowed it to soak into your skin, you focused on applying your face scrub and then the soothing gel that was supposed to make you look like you’d just stepped from in front of a misting fan. As you went through your routine, your mind kept wandering to what exactly Regé has up his sleeve. The way he looked when he asked you for a date was so tender so intense. You didn’t know what to expect and since you didn’t know your excitement was steadily increasing.

 By the time you finished your shower then made your skin supple and face effortlessly painted, 2 hours had nearly passed. The summer dress you pulled on hugged you in the right places while hoisting your breasts to ensure your cleavage was on point. The deep thigh split gave it the right touch of sexy while keeping it sweet and innocent. After dipping your perfume at your pressure points, you reapplied your lipstick then surveyed yourself once more.

 Knock, knock, knock.

 You opened the door after crossing the room and smiled at one of the crew members.

 “Good afternoon, Ms. Y/L/N.”

 “Hi.”

 “Signore Jean Page says he is waiting for you madam,” he said, his Italian accent heavy.

 “Yes. Give me one moment.”

 You scurried back to the bed and tucked your phone, a few credit cards, and your lipstick into your purse then grabbed your wide brimmed straw hat and your sunglasses then hurried back to the crew member. He led the way down the corridors and up steps. The further from the room you got the louder and louder it became. It sounded like helicopter blades. A few minutes later you were approaching Regé who was standing beside a helicopter. your eyes widened taking in the sight. What in the world, you thought.

 The closer you got Regé’s smile widened. When he took the remaining steps to you keeping his head ducked, he clasped your hands in his.

 “You look breathtaking.”

 Your belly fluttered. “Thank you.”

 He kissed your cheek then your temple.

 “Ready?”

 “What is all this?”

 “Lunch.”

 “On the chopper?”

 Regé’s smile widened then he tipped his head back and laughed.

 “Don’t laugh at me RJP.”

 You liked to tease him with the name sometimes and each time it only made him laugh and proceed to tickle you until you gave in. This time was no different.

 “All right, I give.”

 Regé pulled you flush against him. “And I take.”

 He kissed your lips gently, probably trying not to get your lipstick all over him. It was pointless though, you used your thumb and wiped at the berry blush shade now on his lips.

 “Shall we?”

 You nodded and allowed him to lead you to the helicopter. The whole while he kept one hand around your waist and the other atop your head ensuring you remained low. Once you were both in, you put on the headset as you readied yourself for lift off. When the helicopter began lifting, you looped your arm in Regé’s then laid your head on his shoulder. You felt his lips brush the top of your head and you thought nothing could be more perfect than this moment.

A few short minutes later, the view of the Italian countryside took your breath away. The greens were so much lusher than any you’d seen before, the blue of the ocean was more like the deepest turquoise ever discovered, then the wildflowers that were in a rainbow array of colors that decorated the fields completed the live canvas painting. You pointed things out to Regé as he did the same. The whole time you both snuggled together and giggled. It was the perfect picture of peace.

 Once the helicopter landed and you disembarked, Regé took your hand and led you down a field to a waiting man who held on to two bikes. He paid the man while exchanging pleasantries in Italian looking as if the man was his long-lost best friend. That was another reason you’d fallen in love with him. He had a way to make everyone he encountered feel comfortable and appreciated. He didn’t treat anyone as if he were better than them and always remained humbled.

 “Ready?”

 “You bet.”

 You climbed onto the old-fashioned bike making sure to tuck the hem of your dress between your legs to prevent any mishaps and placed your purse into the basket in the front. It was adorable. Glancing over to Regé, you smiled at his tall frame on the dainty looking bike.

 “Keep up slow poke,” you teased before you took off down the dirt path.

 “Cheater!”

 The two of you rode bikes along the path. One minute you were in front, the next he was, but the whole time you laughed and taunted each other. After a mile or two, you found a thicket of trees and got off for a rest under a tree sipping limoncellos like locals. Before either of you knew it you were making out under and up against the trees not caring if anyone was around to watch. When you got to a small town you explored while keeping a hold on each other. Every few seconds, Regé was snapping pictures of you making you feel like a model rather than a stylist. He was truly your biggest hype man.

 When the sun was a little past its peak, you rolled up to the breathtaking view of Provence’s Lavender Fields.

“Oh my god.”

 “Amazing, isn’t it?”

 As far as the eye could see lavender decorated the hills. It smelled like heaven and every time the wind picked up a wave of calm washed over you.

 “Absolutely amazing.”

 You felt Regé come beside you then wrap his arm around your waist. “Shall we?”

 “Huh?”

 “We’ve reached our destination.”

 You smiled and couldn’t help but kiss him. You climbed off the bike and allowed him to lead you down the path toward the fields. The closer you came the stronger the scent of lavender filled the air and the giddier you became. Soon, you couldn’t help but take off running through the rows of lavender tracing your hands along them. When you smelled your fingers, you moaned as they picked up the aroma the buds left.

 “Oh my gosh. It’s beautiful,” you stretched out.

 When you turned, you found Regé walking calmy behind you with a wide smile on his face as he watched you.

 “You’re beautiful!”

 Giggling you twirled and twirled. If this was what complete peace and joy felt like you wanted to bottle this moment to revisit every chance you got.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

 -Regé-

Christ, you were beautiful, he thought as he watched you run around like a child touching every bushel of lavender only to bring your hands to your nose to inhale deeply. When you began twirling with your arms outstretched screaming “weee”, he had to laugh. His chest tightened as his heartbeat increased. It was something that had been happening since he’d met you and even more since you’d been spending every day together. He’d pieced it together that it was a result of you. Everything he’d learned about you over the last 2 weeks has only increased the intensity of his heart’s beating.

 You turned to him again and stuck your tongue out at him before you winked. Just like that you took his breath away and the only thought in his mind was forever. It was a word he’d thought about plenty of times since you’d run into his arms at the yacht when you’d first arrived. That was several ports ago. After the second night on the yacht, he knew he couldn’t sleep away from you anymore. When you’d made it known that you felt the same way he had to keep himself contained so you didn’t know then and there just how hooked he was. You had him hook, line and sinker.

 He found this odd. No woman had ever had this strong of an effect on him. No woman had every done so little and had him wrapped around their finger so effortlessly. He knew it was more than the honeymoon stage, or the obsession stage of a relationship. This was something more.

 You stopped a few feet in front of him staring at something. As he came up beside you, he saw what held you captivated.

“Hope you’re hungry. I’ve worked up quite the appetite,” he said his lips pressed to your ear.

 Your body shook and he took that as a good sign. He affected you as much as you affected him. He kept his hand on your hip and when your eyes met his there went his breath again.

 “Did you do this?”

 He brushed his lips against your exposed shoulder, an action he’d wanted to do since you boarded the helicopter.

 “I did.”

 There was no need for words. He could see everything in your eyes, and he allowed his feelings to shine through to you as well. Lifting your hand to his lips, he brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Come on.”

 Leading you to the constructed wooden gazebo that housed a glass chandelier, a linen covered table and two chairs in the middle of the field he kept his hand planted on your hip loving the way you felt against him.

 “Oh my god, Regé.”

 You stopped in front of the table and looked around. When he saw the tears in your eyes he scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t cry. Come, sit.”

 He pulled out one of the chairs for you then pushed it in when you sat. Once he sat diagonal from you, he wasted no time popping the top off the rose what was sitting in the ice bucket and filling both your glasses.

 “I can’t believe you did this. How?”

 “A good magician never reveals.”

 He held his glass out to you and watched as you did the same. “To lavender fields and the taste of your lips.”

 You smiled, tapped his glass then downed the glass in one go. It was small surprises like this he loved about you. He could never predict your next move. Everything you did always somehow came as a surprise—a pleasant one. He followed suit and drank the whole glass then poured again.

 “Bon appetite.”

 He’d made sure to request all of your favorites and a few authentic Italian dishes and was happy to see the smorgasbord of options displayed on the table. The two of you filled your plates with bits and pieces from every platter then sat back and at in harmonious silence. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. Instead, you ate and enjoyed the comfort of being together. It was something he hadn’t experienced before.

 The women in his past were the complete opposite. He always got the impression they were trying to impress him or prove why they belonged by his side. He could never get a feel of their authentic self. With you, he didn’t get that at all. You remained true to who you were, never putting on any false masks. You laughed wholeheartedly, ate without a care of who watched, danced freely, spoke with an animated joy that always held him captivated and that was just the beginning.

 When you did speak, the conversation easily drifted over topic after topic. Nothing was off limits. You pointed out the scenery, told him about other beautiful sights you’d seen. To that he said he wished to be with you when you saw others. That was when you bashfully smiled dipping your head and coyly hiding your smile behind your hand. He was a complete goner; it was pretty pathetic. He could tell you had no idea, and he couldn’t fathom how you hadn’t guessed. How could you not tell just how much he loved you.

 It hit him like a ton of bricks right then. He loved you. He was in love with you.

 “Why’re you smiling?”

 “How can I not smile when I’m with you?”

 “Dear god Regé, what in the world are you doing to me?”

 “What do you mean?”

 “I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this lite, this--,” you began then shook your hands around the air to emphasis something. “Ya’ know?”

 He snorted and shook his head. “No, I haven’t a clue what that was? That was--.”

 “Was it weird?”

 “A little.”

 You laughed loudly. Your laugh was so contagious he couldn’t help but chuckle along with you.

 “Don’t laugh at me. Jeez, I just mean—I’m happy. You make me happy.”

 Damn, he thought. Four words and he was putty in your hands. Again, that bashful smile of yours returned and you dipped your head down. Reaching over, he took your hand then raised it to his lips.

 “You make me happier than I’ve ever been,” he confessed.

 “I do?”

 Nodding slowly, he looked over every inch of your beautiful, glowing face. “How can you not know, Y/N? How can you not know how incredible you are?”

 You smirked, licked your lips then put your other hand on top of his. “You’re pretty incredible too RJP.”

 He snorted then shook his head. Of course, you’d tease him now. The two of you sat there comfortably holding hands and watching the fields like an old married couple. A few hours later when all the food was gone and most of the wine, you walked through the fields hand in hand with a bottle of wine in each of your hands, trying to top the other with the poems you each knew. When you’d gone through all you knew, you moved on to limericks and haikus. You called to every part of him, and he couldn’t believe how right you felt to him.

 When you broke away from him you bent over touching your nose to a bundle of lavender. It was the perfect picture, so he took his phone out and snapped it. You looked at him, smiled widely then stuck your hand out.

 “No paps.”

 He captured picture after picture of you using the field as your photoshoot set. You looked breathtaking with the lavender behind you, and he knew this sight would remain his favorite for a long time. You turned to him again and stuck a bundle of lavender behind your ear then blew him a kiss. It was an image he pressed to memory with the camera. As he looked over the picture, he got lost in it—in you. When he looked up again it was just in time to see the white of your dress swish out of sight behind a tall row of lavender.

 “Catch me if you can,” you sing-songed as you giggled.

 Smiling, he followed the trail of your voice, but he didn’t rush, instead he took his time and allowed his senses to lead him. Whenever he turned a corner, he only ever caught the faintest of white of your dress before it disappeared. As he moved, he snapped the pictures as he pleased, curious to later see what the camera caught. You continued to elude him for the next several minutes, but he didn’t stress it because somehow, he knew exactly where you were. When he completely lost sight of you, he stopped, closed his eyes, and used his senses to see if he could find you.

 He felt you first then smelled you, but he waited until you crept closer. Cute, he thought. When he was sure you were close, he spun, dipped down taking you over his shoulder and spun you around. Your laughter echoed over the open fields, and it sounded like music. He was too far gone. He flipped you down and gently brought you down atop a bushel of lavender. He watched you laugh some more and allowed his imagination to run while and envision you all dressed in white.

 When you opened your eyes to peer into his, he audibly gulped. You looked like a seductress, an image from daydreams. Lavender buds decorated your face, neck, and decolletage and his fingers itched to touch.

 “You caught me,” you softly said.

 “I have all the Gods in every religion to thank for that.”

 You smiled and he couldn’t fight the urge any longer. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, gently brushing away the lavender buds.

 “Are you happy, Y/N?”

 “Do you really have to ask? I haven’t stopped smiling since we met and I’m lying here on top of a bed of lavender completely wine tipsy.”

 Grasping a stem of lavender, he used it to trace a path across your cheek then down your neck and to your collar. Where the stem went his eyes followed. The purple of the lavender complimented your skin tone in so many ways. He had a thought then to bring some of this lavender back to the ship so you could add it to your bath. It would be just as much a treat for him than you.

 “I’m completely under your spell,” he said.”

 “My spell? So, I’m a witch now?”

 “No, just absolutely bewitching in every--,” he kissed your nose, “Single.” He kissed one cheek. “Way.” He placed the final soft kiss to your other cheek before locking eyes with you again.

 You drew your bottom lip between your teeth and the fire he’d seen in your eyes plenty of times ignited.

 “God, Y/N. I have never been in love like this.”

 He felt your body tense, but you didn’t move away.

 “It has only ever felt like this with you. I swear every time I look at you or see you a hand squeezes my heart making it stop for a few seconds or until you touch me. It’s the most terrifying and intense feeling I have ever felt. I didn’t know what it meant until it hit me. I—I love you. I’m in love with you.”

 He waited, giving you time to comprehend what he’d just said and to decipher what you felt. Long moments stretched as the wind gently brushed against you sending lavender buds through the air and wrapping you both in a cocoon of fragrant bliss.

 You lifted your hand to his cheek then you smiled softly. “Wow. I love you too.”

 His smile was slow but full. You wrapped your arms around his neck then smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the thing he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to give to you.

 “What’s this?”

 “For you.”

 You took the red leather case then looked at him. “Regé, you didn’t have to buy me anything.”

 “I wanted to.”

 You smiled then opened the case. Your eyes went wide when you saw the bracelet inside.

 “Oh my god, Regé,” you gasped.

 “I’ve been carrying it around for the last 2 weeks waiting for the perfect moment. Thank God, I found it. It’s the vintage version of Cartier’s Love bracelet. I want you to wear it so you will always know that I love you and am completely obsessed with you. Wear it and know it comes with my undying faithfulness to you, my unyielding love for you, my unwavering devotion to you and unquenchable passion for you.”

 You laid there speechless with wide eyes never taking them off of him.

 “I promise to never take you for granted, to never get too wrapped up work and my schedule where I neglect you. I promise to always be here for you when you need a hand, a shoulder, a chest. Let mine be the first you seek and only you need. I promise to never ever get enough of you, to never let this passion fade. I promise to always make you feel beautiful, loved, and special. Most importantly, I promise you my genuine, honest, unconditional and true love.”

  ~~~~~~~~

 -Y/N-

Holy shit, you thought to yourself as this beautiful and perfect man hovered over you spilling his heart to you. This man who you’d fallen in love with was telling you he’d fallen in love with you too. It was a shock to say the least. You’d hoped of course but you hadn’t suspected he felt how you felt—not yet at least.

 The tear that slid out your eye was a happy one, but you saw his brows knit as he trailed his finger up wiping it away.

 “What’s wrong?”

 You shook your head, words escaping you.

 “Tell me, I want to make it better.”

 You smiled and brought his head to you, kissing his lips.

 “Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect. I just love you.”

 Regé slowly smiled and soon the two of you were smiling at each other like fools.

 “Will you wear it?”

 You nodded enthusiastically as you held up your arm for him to latch the bracelet on. Once he had, you both stared at it feeling the renewed connection between you as well as the weight of the jewelry that probably only equated to less than a pound, but it was the sentiments that weight more than the moon.  Regé kissed you again then trailed his lips to your neck then across your collar. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feel of him against you.

 The lower he went the more your skin tingled and the more it tingled the wilder the swarm of butterflies in your gut fluttered. When Regé’s lips touched your cleavage, you opened your legs making room for him. A groan was his reply before he latched onto your neck once more. This time his kisses were more persistent. Then they turned to sucks and a moan fell from your mouth. When he pulled the bow tie straps from your shoulder, he replaced them with his lips.

 His lips were wreaking havoc on you. Everywhere they went he left trails of icy hot fire which didn’t help you, it only made you want him more. Regé planted kisses across your body dipping down to your stomach and then your bare thigh. When his lips pressed to your exposed inner thigh, you gasped, arching off the bed of Lavender beneath you. Glancing down, you caught Regé’s eyes and the look in them had a pool of moisture dripping from you.

 “Oh god,” you whispered as you angled your head backward looking up into the purple, pink and yellow decorated sky.

Regé’s lips went lower on your thigh until he got to your knee, he then switched legs and repeated the kisses showing both your thighs equal attention. You were dizzy at this point. The bottles of wine you’d drank were now teaming up to lift you into the sky. Everything was working against you, the aroma in the air calming you, but Regé’s lips on your flesh working you up into a frenzy and the wine making you want to do very bad, nasty things to him.

 “Regé,” you whispered as your hand dropped on top of his head.

 “Yes, sunshine,” he mumbled against your hip.

 You looked back down and found your dress was just at your crotch, he hadn’t gone any further, but you could see he wanted to. The question was in his eyes coaxing you to ask him—beg him even.

 “What do you want, princess?”

 You bit your bottom lip and tried to restrain yourself a little. “Please--.”

 “Please what?”

 “Please touch me.”

 Regé dropped a kiss on your fully clothed pubis. You groaned then huffed. A small smile spread across his face.

 “Can I taste you, Y/N?”

 You shattered then. You were his to do with as he saw fit. You nodded a little more enthusiastically than you’d wanted which made Regé smile.

 “Relax for me sweetheart. Let me do all the work.”

 With that, you felt his lips start again on your thighs before he made his way to your pelvis. Dropping back, you sighed as you stared into the sky. You felt him pull your underwear to the side then suck in a rushed breath. Your head snapped up to watch.

 “Fuck, you’re beautiful. So—perfect.”

 Who knew you had a praise kink. With those words you felt new wetness seep from you. It was something Regé proved as a fact when he groaned.

 “You are going to be the death of me.”

 With that, he tipped his tongue out and licked you from opening to clit. You gasped, then dropped back onto the lavender.

 “Haaaa,” you moaned out.

 Regé swirled your clit with his tongue. The action was so slow that you found yourself bucking against his mouth just to feel more. Regé chuckled softly.

 “Patience sunshine.”

 Your hips stilled and as if to reward you, he kissed your swollen and aching bud. You sighed again then settled allowing him to pleasure you. When he licked across you again, he flicked your bud then sucked on it. Your hands flew to his head, and you buried your fingers into his curls.

 “Mmmm,” you taste like rose, and strawberries,” Regé whispered.

 His beard gently scratched the insides of your thighs and you bucked again. This time Regé wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing you close to him while holding you right where he wanted. His movements turned greedy then. As he latched onto your clit he slurped against your skin making goosebumps decorate your flesh. You could feel the beginning stirs of your impending release. Regé released your touch starved bud, then sloppily kissed your inner thighs nipping and sucking his way back to your core.

 Once there he feasted starting a pace and rhythm that your body never memorized because every few seconds he switched it up. He dipped his tongue into your heat, then sucked before he brought his tongue to your clit. Quick butterfly flicks sent your back arching off the ground and your fingers digging deeper into his hair.

 “Yes, Regé. Yes. Haaa!”

 He mumbled against you speeding up his tongue before he sucked your flesh somehow getting your entire mound into his mouth. You saw stars in the lavender sky and imagined the buds of lavender floating above you in a swirling pattern. Hypnotized, you gasped loudly then clenched your thighs around Regé’s head trapping him as your body released all the pent-up desire within it.

“Aaaaaah!”

 Slowly your body relaxed then released him from it’s prison. When you looked down at him he looked so damn fuckable. His lips were red, wet, and swollen. His eyes hooded and filled with so much need that you nearly threw yourself on him. Whatever desire your body had just expelled came back full force.

 “I could taste you all day and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

 You smirked then laughed for some reason. Was it the wine finally driving you mad, or was it this man doing all the driving?

 “Come ‘ere.”

 Regé slid up you body pressing himself against you before he hovered over your face.

 “You taste delicious.”

 Looking him in his eyes you spoke. “Make love to me.”

 Any humor on his face was gone in an instant and in that instant yearning like you’d never seen filled his Russet brown eyes. He didn’t answer which made you wonder if he didn’t hear you.

 “Regé.”

 “Right here?”

 “Right now.”

 He searched your eyes for a few seconds. “I don’t have--.”

 “I trust you.”

 He looked as if he could have said “aww” which made you smile.

 “Make love to me.”

 For emphasis so he knew you meant it, you began peeling his latte-colored blazer off of his shoulders revealing his white crewneck t-shirt. Regé helped you undress him, moving to lift his white shirt from his body after your smaller hands peeled off his blazer. As he was shirtless over you, you couldn’t help but gawk at his magnificent flesh on display. He was built, not overtly so but more than enough. His abs bulged underneath the light of the setting sun, decorated by a dusting  of dark coiled hair that your fingers wanted—no needed to touch. So you did.

 Contradiction, you thought. It looked coarse but to the touch it was soft. You felt Regé’s midsection quiver as he released a jagged breath. Your eyes locked and it felt like air had turned electric. Your entire body felt like you’d stuck your wet finger into a socket. The clench in his jaw told you he had to also be feeling the same thing. At the same time, you and Regé went for eachother meeting one another halfway. His large hand held you around your back as you brought your hands to his pants.

 Your lips danced together, fitting together perfectly. You moaned against him when he splayed his hand at your tailbone and pulled you closer to him. This action sent your wet core against the hardened mass that was his dick.

 “Fuck,” you mumbled against his lips.

 Hastily, you undid the button of his pants then moved on to the zipper.

 Regé groaned and rocked forward sending his need flush against you. The impressive hardness was coaxing you, tempting you, driving you fucking insane. You couldn’t handle anymore. Regé latched his lips onto your neck right at your sweet spot. Your high-pitched panting rolled over the empty lavender fields. You lifted your legs using your now bare feet to push at the pants and underwear still separating you and Regé. You needed to feel him against you. You were tired of waiting.

 “How do you feel this good?”

 Regé sounded mystified, confused by how effortlessly the two of you complimented the other. 

You clawed at his back then smiled when you felt the strong muscles bunch and dance under your fingers. Regé shimmied from his clothing then you felt the weight of him pressing atop your pubis. You couldn’t help but look and when you did your jaw dropped. Fuck, you thought. You’d suspected he was hung but good golly miss molly. Not only was he lengthy but his girth was impressive. Your core clenched in anticipation of the battle ahead. You were so glad you were wet already.

 “Are you sure?”

 Regé’s voice was strained as if he was barely holding on. The sticky opaque liquid seeping from him confirmed it, he was just as on edge as you were. You met his eyes and nodded. You felt him rub his dick along your slit. Slowly down to your opening, around it then slowly back up to your hungry clit then around it. He did this a few times each time teasing your body more and more. Every time he circled your opening you took a small breath, held it, and waited for him to fill you but he didn’t. When he didn’t your body tensed. Soon, you were so tightly bound that if the wind blew as it had a few moments ago you’d come.

 “Regé,” you whimpered.

 His thick knitted eyebrows, squinted eyes and clenched jaws said he wasn’t just teasing you but he was teasing himself. He circled your opening again then locked eyes with you just before he thrust forward sending just the head of his invasion inside of you. You clenched around him sucking the very life from his dick. The action had Regé half collapse on top of you. His elbows dug into the lavender underneath your bodies sending the aroma to swim more around you.

 You couldn’t move, the stretch of just the tip of him had you stunned. It had been a while since you’d done this and while you were no professional, professional you definitely weren’t a novice. Lifting your legs off the ground, you wrapped them around his back giving him a different angle. Regé sucked in a breath as he dipped deeper inside of your body. Slowly he filled you, slowly giving you every inch of him. With every second your body slowly adjusted to him. It wasn’t painful per se, but you undeniably felt the stretch as your body tried to adjust to him. He felt incredible, powerful, and so damn hot inside of you that you knew you weren’t going to last long. You were surprised you’d held on this long.

 “Uuugh,” Regé grunted as you clenched around him again. He was fully sheathed within you and just waiting, allowing you to adjust. You loved him even more for it but your impatience was getting the better of you.

 “M—more!”

 Regé drew back only leaving the tip of himself inside before he thrust forward in one swift and powerful thrust.

 “Ah!”

 Again he did it. Each time he thrust back into you; his force was more bruising, more demanding. It felt as if he were demanding everything you had, every crevice, every inch of your canal, everything you had to give—he wanted. When he thrust into you again, you raised to meet him then circled your hips willingingly giving him everything he wanted. It was his for the taking. Regé’s shouldered tensed when you did it then you felt him bit your neck.

 “Yes, Y/N!”

 Feeling bolder from his praise you met him thrust for thrust, each time circling your hips fucking him as good as he was fucking you. Regé’s sped his thrusts sending your still concealed breasts swinging. His eyes locked on your globes then he cupped one and roughly pulled your dress down to reveal one breast.

 “Haa! So fucking beautiful.”

 His lips latched onto your pert nipple and he sucked as if there was life saving nectar within them. You moaned as your pleasure doubled and again your eyes locked onto the beautiful sky above you. You’d wondered when this would happen and couldn’t have picked a better one. You knew you’d always remember this.

 “I love—love—I love you,” Regé stuttered out.

He was shaking above you and you knew he was holding himself back. Rolling onto him, your bodies crushed another lavender bushel. You made a mental note to generously compensate the farmers before you left. The way Regé looked up at you as he laid under the bed of lavender only made your heart lurch, and core clench around him like a vampire needing more sustenance from its prey. You felt so full of him, so incredibly full that you couldn’t believe you weren’t trying to get away from him. Instead, you rocked your hips, rolling them as cerulean waves did in the endless depths of the ocean.

Regé planted one hand on your hip and one hand behind his head as his jaw slacked. Grinding on him, you put one hand across his abs and the other on your head. The sensations bubbling within you were becoming so intense—too intense. you were close. When you began bouncing on him you shook every time you came down on his thickness and every time you shook your orgasm crept closer and closer. Regé gripped your hips with both hands then jack hammered into you. With eyes locked and your desire for one another at peak you came undone.

 “Aaaaah! Regé!”

 His name echoed over the vastness of the field, and you didn’t care if anyone was around to hear it or see the carnal things you were doing in broad daylight. They were welcomed to watch, and you hoped they were enjoying the show, because you definitely were.

 ~~~~~~~~

 -Regé-

Taking advantage of your lackadaisical state of mind, he rolled onto you again, put your leg onto his shoulder then held the other down. You were wide for him. Every inch of your sex was on display for his eyes to feast on and he loved the view. Fucking hell you were gorgeous. Every single inch of you his eyes had seen he’d been met with nothing but perfection. You were perfect, perfect for him and he’d never let you go. Never. He thrust into you again and your hand flew to his stomach. He hesitated for a moment studying you.

 The look in your eyes and the way you bit onto your bottom lip told him it wasn’t that he’d hurt you. No, that wasn’t it. You were sensitive from your orgasm seconds ago, and if he did that again you’d come all over again. He knew it and he desperately wanted you to lose control, he needed to see you at your most primal, lost in the need of your desire for him. Probably because he was already there. He was holding back with every punch of control he still possesed.  

 With a smirk, he repeated the action. His swollen tip nudged against the tightly coiled bundle of flesh inside of you and when you released a breathy gasp and bite down harder on your lip he knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. He did it again and watched your skin prickle with goosebumps erupt. God he loved how you reacted to him. When he did it a fourth time you came again, arching off of the bed of lavender while pressing your hands flat against the ground. You looked like you were summoning the goddess of the earth herself using your orgasm as tribute.

 “Shhhhit!”

 He quickly plowed into you, his control was gone and all he felt was a deep burning need for you. Your moans got louder and louder and as they did you writhed underneath him. Locking his eyes on your sex, he watched himself slip in and out of your slickened heat and every thrust forward his mouth watered at how you sucked him in, how you took from him what you wanted. His body tensed, heart thudded rapidly, and his thrusts staggered as he lost control completely. With one, then two more thrusts he knew he was going to come, and he knew this would be one for the record books.

 You dug your nails into his back as you locked eyes with him and seductively whimpered his name.

 “Rege!”

 That was all he needed before his entire being left his body as he came, filling you with spurt after spurt of everything he had. It was yours, no matter what you wanted he’d give it to you and that included his first, second, third and last born. He was yours, unequivocally and quite possibly eternally. God help him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[soulofapatrick]

Curls - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: Tommy comes back from patrol all hot and sweaty with his curls doing things to Y/N and it doesn’t take long for her restraint to snap

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: Fingering

Notes: Idea given to me by the amazing @thesapphirequeen​

Y/N’s POV

I would say I have a lot of self control but when Joel and Tommy come back from a particularly tough patrol I have to sit down and cross my legs as the sight of Tommy all hot and sweaty, his curls sticking to his forehead does something to me. Ellie takes one look at me and burst out of laughing, her and Jesse both knowing about my insatiable crush on the younger Miller brother. We’re currently sat in Joel’s living room where we all congregate as a family once a week. All of us being Joel; Ellie; Tommy: Jesse: Dina; Maria and I. A small part of me hates that Maria is here as it’s like the world wants to rub it in my face that there is something undeniable going on between Maria and Tommy. It’s not like I’d be able to make a move on Tommy anyway, he’s too perfect for me to even have a chance. 

Tommy looks hand sculptures by Michelangelo right now, shirt practically sticking to his well defined chest as he shrugs off his fleece jean jacket, sun kissed skin glistening in the evening sun that’s shining through the window, illuminating the golden specks in his cognac eyes and showing off his freckles. Out of it all I itch to run my hands through those luscious curls that are currently stuck to his face and neck and I want to run my tongue up his chest to taste the saltiness that is Tommy. 

Ellie’s giggling, pressing a firm hand to my shoulder and squeezing, causing me to drag my eyes away from Tommy. Oh my god I was staring! I risk a glance back at the ethereal man and feel myself turn three shades of scarlet when he winks at me, cognac eyes bright and full of amusement. Before anything else embarrassing can happen I have Jesse planting himself on my lap and knocking the air from my lungs as he leans back and all I can do is wrap my arms around his waist with a fond shake of my head. 

“Dinner is almost ready so go shower boys!” Maria calls from the kitchen where Dina is helping her cook. I rest my head on Jesse’s shoulder, watching Tommy pull the shirt over his head to reveal more of his glistening sun kissed skin that has me burying my face in the back of Jesse’s shirt instead before I get carried away, storing the images for later when I’m alone in my own bed. Jesse’s trying to turn his head far enough to see my face, a concerned look furrowing his brows before they soften to amusement when Ellie leans down and whispers something to him. 

“Tommy eh?” Jesse asks quietly and I just tighten my arms around his waist almost painfully in warning, “Alright, alright. I’m here if you wanna talk though.” 

“Thank you.” I press my lips to his clothed shoulder and he chuckles before turning back to Ellie and they continue their bickering over what comic book series was better: Marvel or DC. I have always held Marvel with a higher respect, watching some of the movies before the outbreak and finding the DVDs of the rest over the years. They’re sat in my room upstairs, on my bookcase along with the books I’ve found along my journeys. I love being to able to hold onto parts of the past, especially books that have sentences highlighted in them as I feel like I am bringing someone long forgotten back to life even if I don’t know their names. You learn a lot about people by the highlighted parts or the notes scribbled down the edges of the pages. All of them dog-eared and worn but loved and continue to be loved. 

Joel reappears first, playfully scolding Jesse for crushing me and making my best friend get off my lap. Playing along I pretend to gasp in a deep breath, causing Jesse to smack my arm and Joel let out a hearty laugh. One strong look from Maria has Joel ushering the three of us to the table, Ellie and Jesse running to the seat next Joel and bickering over it as they both sat down on half of it each. Joel just shakes his head fondly, salt and pepper hair shining in the light and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, weather worn features softening with the kind of love a father has for his kids. It’s a warming thing to see after the heartbreak of Sarah and how he broke down when telling me and Ellie about being the guy that shot and missed all those years ago. That was the man Tommy and Maria expected to find when we arrived in Jackson those three years ago but I hope Tommy has found the man his brother once used to be all those years ago before the outbreak. 

Ellie will always be Joel’s kid but Jesse… I’d honestly say I see him more as Tommy’s surrogate son with the way Tommy is always looking out for him and the way Jesse looks up to Tommy. It’s not the same kind of idolisation he has for Joel, that is a role model idolisation whereas Jesse idolises Tommy like a kid would their parent. It warms my heart seeing everyone here as a family. 

Joel is moving Ellie one down so Dina can sit between them and Jesse gets placed opposite Ellie. Joel and I sit opposite each other, either side of Maria who will sit at the head of the table which means-

“Saved me a spot I see sweetheart.” A large and warm hand squeezes my shoulder before Tommy’s sliding into the seat between me and Jesse as Maria and Dina bring the plates over. Tommy looks almost more amazing than before, his hair damp from the shower and smelling of vanilla, fresh faced and a smirk on his lips as he digs into the pasta dish Maria and Dina have prepared up. I think my jaw hits the floor when I realise he’s wearing my sweater, it’s my favourite sweater: a deep blue colour and very warm and  oversized yet on him it seems to fit him perfectly. The idea of him going into my room and picking out the sweater he knows I wear all the time to cover in the dizzying scent of everything Tommy makes my mouth water and I have to clear my throat a little. 

I could hardly focus on the rest of the meal when Tommy’s leg brushes against mine and settles there, not moving away and I’m not gonna push him away. Everyone’s laughing and joking around about their favourite moments on patrol or funny stories from before the outbreak and I’m just happy to listen to them all. The sound of laughter music to my ears and just seeing us all be a big happy family warms my heart so much but there is always going to be a pang of sadness that comes with it. Sometime I can imagine my siblings being here with us as well as Sarah. 

Plates are being collected and everyone is beginning to say their goodbyes and head home. Jesse and Maria leaving first as they live in the same direction, Dina is staying the night and I find myself walking Tommy out. We stand on the porch, watching the evening sky and the peace that comes with is while the three inside clean up. Tommy's calloused hand settles over mine before he’s pulling me into a hug that has me weak at the knees, especially when he whispers, “Come by mine tomorrow and you can have your sweatshirt back baby girl.” His lips ghost the corner of my lips then he’s gone, striding confidently down the street towards his own place. The opposite direction to Marias. 

*

“Tommy?” I call into the house, stepping inside to find it silent but there’s a note propped up on the table in his messy scrawl. He is having to help with some last minute repairs on the Harris’ house so I should make myself at home and that my sweatshirt is in his room if I’d prefer to grab it and go. 

Despite my best judgement I’m heading down the hallway to his room, creaking the door open and finding my sweatshirt neatly laid out on his bed. His room always makes me smile as everything in it screams Tommy like the guitar hung up on the wall and the bunch of old school posters for movies and bands that we all manage to scavenge on our patrols. Broken photo frames are dotted around the room, most of them of him, Joel and Sarah from before the outbreak. There’s a pile of books stashed in the corner and I think I melt right there and them as there’s a sticky note on them with the words ‘For Y/N’. 

 Turning from the pile I move to the bed, picking up my sweater and bringing it to my nose, groaning lightly as he didn’t wash it so the addictive mix of his vanilla body wash clings to it along with the coffee he probably had when he got home and the woodsmoke from working and helping the town. My body acts upon its own instincts when I’m unbuttoning my shirt and pulling my sweater over my head, sitting on his bed and just enjoying the feeling of being trusted enough to be allowed to let myself into his house let alone his bedroom. 

His bed… My mind can’t help but wonder to how it would feel being pinned down to his bed with his heavy weight settled on top of me and his fingers trailing my skin, lips and teeth leaving marks that I wouldn’t be able to hide. I’m laying back, popping the button on my jeans and sliding my hand over the fabric of my slowly wetting underwear, letting my eyes slip shut as I tease myself, the smell of him surrounding me making it hard to cling to any sanity. My thumb grazes my clit and his name tumbles from my lips in a broken moan. 

“Fuck me baby girl,” My eyes fly open, hand flying out of my jeans and sitting up to find Tommy standing in the doorway, face flushed and lips parted slightly with his chest rising and falling quickly, “You could have just asked me.” He’s stalking closer, throwing his jacket aside before sliding onto the bed next to me. The rough pads of his fingers gripping my chin and drawing me up into a kiss I have been thinking of for a little over a year. It’s hot and needy but there’s a softness to it that has me wanting to never stop kissing him, the feeling of his tongue dipping into the seam of my lips drawing a mewl from me. I’m gasping when his featherlight fingers brush down my stomach and under my jeans to replace my hand that was there, a moan falling from his lips and forehead resting against mine, breath fanning my face as he groans, “Fuck, you all wet for me baby girl?” 

“Only you.” I croak out, nails digging into his shoulders as he leans over me, cognac eyes watching me as he circles two fingers over my clit, sparking a new type of pleasure from me that I could never give myself. Its the type of pleasure that has my thighs trembling almost immediately when his fingers push my panties to the side is he can gather some of my slick on his fingers before plunging one into my aching core. I’m whining, back arching off the bed at the intrusion and I think my eyes roll back into my head, “T-Tommy, fuck, this is my first-“ 

His digit stops moving, a frustrated sound leaving my lips and my hips rolling down to find some friction, eyes flying open to see his mouth dropped in shock and concern in his eyes as well as something so very possessive and it turns me on even more than I though possible. His voice is low and he sounds wrecked when he asks, “This is your first anything?” 

“Dreamt of it always being you.” My brain to mouth seems to break when his finger still inside my aching heat curls, hitting a stop that causes almost blinding pleasure. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby girl,” His lips latch onto my neck, “Gonna show you everything you want, wanted you for a while now. Oh fuck, you’re so tight, just for me.” He’s panting, groaning more to himself than me as he works another finger in, curling them both before the uncomfortable stretch can be felt. His fingers are a lot thicker than mine and I’m tangling my hand in his addictive curls, yanking him into a dirty kiss when his thumb presses against my clit, “That’s it sweet girl, come for me.” That building pressure seems to snap into waves and I’m letting out the dirtiest sound ever, eyes rolling back into my head and hips jerking at the almost overwhelming amount of pleasure and stimulation rocking my body. Tommy keeps up his pace until I’m squirming away, the pleasure turning into uncomfortableness and pain, cognac eyes on mine when he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. 

“Fuck Tommy.” I mewl, my hand cupping his cheek and feeling the soft freshly shaven stubble under my palm, smiling softly when he leans into my touch. 

“Did you mean it?” He suddenly asks, eyes open and full of fear for the answer and I’m nodding, drawing him down into a soft kiss, “You want me to take it all?” 

“Tommy,” I hold his face in both hands, pulling away from the kiss, “I have been head over heels in love with you for the last year a half.” My face heats up at the admittance, waiting for him to laugh or tease me but instead his pillowy lips press to each cheek, then my chin and my forehead before finally he’s pressing a chaste kiss to my parted lips. 

“I have been head over heels in love with you for two years.” He grins, a light blush gracing his sun kissed skin and freckles.

“We’re idiots.” 

“Yes we are” 

“That’s enough for today baby girl.” He comes, drawing me into his arms as I feel my eyes getting heavy, body thrumming with love and safety, “I’ll be right here when you wake up sweet girl.”

----------

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[bella-is-sleepy]

Rise! Donatello x Smart/Nerd! Female! Reader || Part 2 || First Hang Out

Y/N’s POV:

I could not focus in school for the past day! My mind was on that night. The night I met him, Donnie. I kept looking at our texts from last night through out the day.

*sigh* Could time go by any faster?! My friend April snapped twice in my face. “GIRL!! What is up with you, you’ve been acting weird ever since yesterday. What happened…?”

I gave her that look that said ‘do I really have to tell you?’. “Yes, you have to tell me!” I have in after she used her ‘magic powers’. “Alright fine. So I met…Someone, well it-was a boy..” She gasped and yelled “A boy??!!?” I covered her mouth, and the whole class was looking at us!! Then went back to do their own thing.

^RIINNNGGG^ I got up from my seat quickly and practically ran out the door! I started walking home. With headphones on blast listening to Odetari. (or your favorite artist) I unlocked the door with my house key, and I soon as I open the door to my apartment-oop what. A surprise. (I said without a hint of sarcasm)

They were fighting—again went immediately into my room. I got my laptop and put on a show I liked so time would pass by quickly. My alarm went off at 7:55 so I could get ready. What I mean by getting ready is putting on my favorite hoodie with some leggings/jeans/skirt that matched.

I went to the rooftop that we agreed to meet at. He got there like 10s after me. “Hi Donnie, how are you?” I asked “I’m doing okay, kinda had a rough day yesterday.” He said “Why was that?” “Oh because we had to deal with some guys with feet on their faces. Yea i don’t know why either but they stole a bunch of paper.” I have a confused look he just said he will explain later.

We started to just get to know each other better. Apparently we are both into Tech/Coding/ inventing. Donnie showed me his battle shell which I thought was really cool. I told him I had some tech-y shoes. They were in my favorite color(s) they were able to keep small tools in them, and the shoes had anti-gravity so I could walk on walls.

He seemed very interested to n my inventions. The only person who really listened to me talk/show about my inventions was my mom. Donnie also told me about his brothers, they are very different from them. Rapheal their leader went In without plans, Michelangelo was prone to getting hurt, and his ‘Twin’ Leo always made jokes(and/or) puns during battles/fights/ missions!

Me and Donnie also had some good laughs. HE LAUGHED AT MY SCIENCE JOKES!! I said “Why did two red blood cells break up?” He tilted his head “Why?” “Because their relationship was in vein!” He said it was cheesy, and yeah it was, but he still chuckled at it.

Eventually we both went home. I entered through my window because I didn’t want to get caught by my Dad. My mom already knows I sneak out. She even said ‘can I even blame you, like I mean me and your dad fight all the time it’s fine by me just text me when you do ,okay?’ So technically it isn’t even sneaking out…!

DONNIE’S POV:

I never knew I would have some much in common with someone. Like she’s smart, good at coding, cooking/baking (she mentioned that) actually listens about my interests when I’m working in ‘Speech mode’ as Leo calls it. Y/n is also beautiful-wait what! Donatello Hamato get ahold of your self you just met her a day ago!

I wish I could have talked longer with her, but good things don’t always last forever. I didn’t even realize I was already at my lab until I stoped at the door. I could barely focus on work! Maybe I could try and go to sleep. I set my alarm for the morning.

I could feel my eyelids getting heavy. I lied down letting my body relax. Maybe we could become better friends. It’s a possibility. Maybe, just maybe…

[weird-profiterole]

🌼 Patreon Schedule July 2024 🌼

July 3rd : [Patreon Reward] Leonardo x Michelangelo : "he wants to order" meme

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[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 3: Dirrty Adrian

Author Note: 18+ only, Mature Audience, Vigilante/Adrian Chase x Female, Y/N, Fluff, Detailed Smut, Consensual/Unprotected Sex, P/V, Cursing/Explicit Language, Military/Law Enforcement Terminology, Mentions of weaponry/Violence, Movie/TV show references, Italics signify flashbacks and character's thoughts.

Summary: You leave the bar with Adrian and the night leads you to his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~

Adrian paid the tab, and you walked out together. It was still early-ish so you decided to go for a walk around Evergreen. The sky was dark, revealing the twinkle of each star as a warm gentle fall breeze caressed your skin, while rustling Adrian’s dark wavy mess of hair. You strolled together in the pleasure of each other’s company laughing about things like which Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle you each related most to (which you both admitted to being most like Raphael mixed with some Michelangelo). Another controversial topic you covered was if there really was enough space for Jack on the door that Rose had used as a hasty makeshift life raft after the Titanic sank to its final resting place at the bottom of the ocean.

“Dude there was totally enough room for him! All they had to do was distribute their weight evenly on the door to stay afloat. Done.”

Adrian threw his hands up like his point was completely valid. Which he made a good argument.

You had your own theory, though.

“Ok, but unless they were able to distribute their weight while conserving body heat by cuddling together on that raft, I’m sure one or both would’ve died of hypothermia anyway. That would’ve been their best chance at survival theoretically.”

Adrian rolled it over in his mind drawing his eyebrows inward in thought.

“Makes sense.” He said nodding with an impressed smirk side eyeing you.

The remaining effects of the liquor from the bar still lingered in both your systems as you walked to the outskirts of town. Sidewalks turned into the path of the park. Streets then became the trail of the forest preserve as the pair of you kept walking savoring each other’s company. The stars became livelier the further you got from the town’s streetlights. There’s honestly nowhere either of you would rather be right now with a scene as comfortable as this.

You came upon a small clearing with few fallen trees giving you two a perfect place to sit. You plopped yourselves down next to each other. You feel Adrian’s hip and shoulder brushing against yours.

“How much did we drink? After all that walking, you’d think we’d sober up. Or maybe you’re drunk on being present in this whimsical scene with Adrian.” You thought to yourself.

Adrian lazily looks over at you as you stare up into the star speckled sky, admiring them as Adrian admires the view of you. “She is stunning.” He thought.

The moon light reflecting on your silhouette defined every curve of your body as you stretched backwards resting on your palms, head tilted back to take in the full view of the night sky. Your back arched and chest pushed out as you’re leaning back accentuating your already generously large breasts in your fitted t-shirt. Adrian studied your every outline, feeling the bulge in his jeans gradually rising. He tried to adjust himself without making it obvious, but subtlety isn’t Adrian’s forte.

You look over as Adrian stirs. You raise your eyebrow at him and chuckle, “You good?”

He looked at you with a hiccup, “Um, yeah, my butt’s falling asleep.”

You laughed. “Yeah? Seems like another one of your body parts is quite awake.”

You look down at his waist and admire the bulk that seems to be at its capacity in his jeans. You bite your lower lip, then look back at Adrian with bedroom eyes and an inebriated smile.

Adrian was mortified at first that you noticed, but a look of exhilaration washed over his face when he saw that you weren’t put off by his stiffness practically unzipping his pants from underneath. The corner of his mouth curled into a playful grin.

“So, it’s not weird that you can see how hard I am right now?” Adrian finally asked.

“Not at all. I’m flattered. It’s quite the compliment.” You winked at him. 

His smile widened, looking almost cynical. He continued, “Soooo does this mean game on?”

You spun yourself towards him and swung a leg over his lap, straddling yourself on top of his aching dick. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding into his swelling heat. The friction of his cock against your clothed entrance had you gushing wet in your panties already. Adrian groaned, grasping your hips guiding your snake like movements against his dick making it throb and pulsate. He wants out bad…

Adrian hissed pulling your face to his, your mouths clashed like lightening, one tongue exploring the other while panting into each other’s mouths. Your bodies pressed against one another, his arms around your mid drift, your arms around his neck. His strong, calloused hands clutching your hips pushing you down harder onto his clothed dick. You pull your lips away allowing your mouth to hover over his so you can feel his heavy breathing on yours, inhaling his growls into your slightly open smiling mouth as he stares eagerly into your eyes.

Adrian whispered, “…more…”

A heat wave surged through you. “So needy.” You breathed.

Adrian smirked playfully, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Maybe…” he replied as he bucked his hips up into you. “You wanna sleep over?” He finally asked.

“Sleep over?” You asked chuckling. “I don’t know, maybe I should ask my mom first.” You added with a teasing smile. You both laughed.

Adrian looked at you expectantly, “Well?”

“Oh, you’re serious?” You asked playing dumb.

His smile started to fade and his eyebrows creasing.

“Well yeah! It’s not a very comfortable place to fuck for the first time. I had a much better vision of how our first time would be.”

He looked off in the distance reimagining how he had planned his first time with you and how it would feel to plunge himself inside you in his bed…in his shower, on the couch, you bent over on his kitchen counter, pinned against any wall with your legs wrapped around him, you straddling him in the driver’s seat of his Sebring, then eventually anywhere he can get away with outdoors.

“You already had an idea of the first time we’d sleep together? You’ve been planning this for a while, huh?” You said interrupting his thoughts.

He looked at you shocked, “Why not? Look at you! How can any guy not see you and imagine it?” He said with a crooked smile but suddenly added while frowning, “But I’ll kill any guy that tries to. If I catch one even drooling over you I’d have to end him.”

A fever of lust raced through you. “He’s not kidding…” You thought to yourself.

The thought of someone ready to kill a guy for you for merely looking at you should’ve been alarming, but it was kind of sweet… in its own psychotic, unstable way. Adrian’s feelings are such pure and concentrated sensations. Although he claims he doesn’t have emotions like most people, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel.

A wave of calm blanketed you, and you pressed your lips on to Adrian’s interlocking a lengthy, gentle kiss.

You pull back, “Your place or mine?” You finally asked.

Adrian’s eyes widened as he beamed at you, “My place! It’s been ready for you for months!” He said excitedly. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he firmly placed his hands under your thighs lifting you with ease to carry you out of the clearing back to his Vigilante-mobile.

~~~~~~~~

Adrain pulled up and parked in front of his house. He quickly exited the car to open your door for you and offered his hand to help you out.

You laugh, “What are you doing, nerd?”

“I’m trying to get you in my house! Come on!” He said impatiently with a Joker-like smile.

You shake your head and take his hand. He yanks you out of the car, but before you know it, he throws you over his shoulder effortlessly, and proceeds towards his front door.

You struggle to laugh because his shoulder is pressed into your gut. You prop yourself up using your hands against his back.

“Kind of primitive, isn’t it, Adrian?” You manage to say.

He unlocked his front door, and pushed it open with his foot then said, “Don’t care.”

“This fucking guy!” You thought amusingly to yourself. All you could do was laugh.

He walked through his dark home straight to his bedroom and flung you onto his bed. He removed his sweater and shirt before crawling over you in a ‘push-up’ position, his arms flexing on each side of you caging you beneath him. He remained like that, studying your every facial feature, smiling idly.

He lowered himself to his elbows, his bare, chiseled chest resting on your still clothed body. His rough hands started trailing up your arms, squeezing at your biceps, as he started to kiss your neck. You move your head to one side to expose more of your neck for him.

You began to pant heavier as Adrian routes his kisses downward towards the exposed areas of your shirt where there was visible cleavage. His kisses turning into biting as he got closer to your nipples. Over your shirt he playfully bites at each of your tits as his hands push them upward into his mouth. The heat from his breath and the tingling from the bites had you absolutely feral. You can feel the warm wetness coating your panties as his bites got harsher.

You look down at him, “You know, they taste better without all those layers of clothes on.”

Adrian stopped and looked up at you with wide eyes. He got to work.

He pushed himself up to his knees, propped you up.

“Arms up,” he ordered. He swiftly pulled your top off in one motion over your head.

You were at eye level with his chest and abs and took the opportunity to kiss this sculpted territory. You curl your fingers into his belt loops and yank him towards you and start suckling his ‘happy trail.’ Adrian groaned while his head fell backward feeling your lips and tongue making your way down to his pant line.

He put his hands on your shoulders and massaged them, unaware he was slightly thrusting into your face. Your hands went to work on undoing his jeans. He brought his head forward, and tried helping you get his jeans off as quickly as possible.

He projected himself backward onto his back curling his knees into his chest to remove his pants and boxers. The articles of clothing were tossed into the dimly lit oblivion then he kneeled on his bed in front of you…You gaped at this man in front of you.

His biceps and forearms…those shoulders; strong and toned.

His pecs: swelling as he inhaled…you’re almost positive you can see his heart pounding behind it.

That six pack: rippling and flexing as he panted for you.

His dick…generous, rock-hard, and pulsating a flushed red with all the blood that’s coursing into it as he held himself in his hand.

“His hands, though…” You thought to yourself.

Those powerful, deadly hands that were the cause of many demises of criminals’ lives. The hands that handled weapons as second nature, and clouted lawbreakers all over Evergreen, were about to be used to do unspeakable and erotic deeds to your body.

Adrian’s voice interrupted your trance, “Uh, are you ok with this?” He asked concerned.

You blink to snap out of it then look up at him through your lashes smiling, “Oh, I’m perfectly ok with it. Get over here.” You demanded.

Adrian smiled widely and slithered over to you. You unbuttoned your jeans as he whipped them off in one sweeping motion taking your panties along with them. He sat up kneeling onto his heels and hoisted you from your ass up onto his lap as you wrap your legs around his waist. He unfastened your bra with one snap of his fingers and there you were, your tits flush against his chest.

You feel his cock settle between your slick folds sliding up and down between them desperate to find the entrance. He’s kissing and licking your bare chest as you throw your head back grinding into his thrusts, both of you gasping and growling at each other. Every time he bucks into your folds he brushes your clit with the tip of his dick sending shock waves through your entire nervous system.

You look back at him, “…get in there.” You commanded.

He looked up at you, and without breaking eye contact, he uses his hand to direct the head of his cock into the opening of your slippery cunt. You groan as he slides right into you with little resistance.

Adrian closed his eyes and snarled when you slid all the way down his shaft, “Y/N…you… are SO tight…” He rested his forehead onto your chest and tried to catch his breathe.

You put both of your hands on each side of his face and positioned it upward so you can look into his starving jade green eyes,

“Keep your eyes on me, handsome. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

You place a deep, tonguey kiss on him as he lowers you down onto your back with one arm holding you and the other hand holding himself up on the bed cradling you downward. You fall to the mattress without him slipping out of your drenched pussy.

He pulled back to gaze at you intensely and started to speed up his plunges into you. Not taking his eyes off yours, he rails into you harder, and deeper causing your titties to bounce upwards each time his hips slam into your thighs. He groped at them with one hand while still gliding in and out of your wet cunt and growled. He increased the intensity of his thrusts until you can hear the ‘slaps’ of his balls hitting your ass. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” You whispered to him.

“Fuck…” He snarled as he assailed faster into you vigorously without mercy.

You moaned, walking your fingers to his agape mouth, “…lick.” You ordered.

Looking into your eyes, he wrapped his mouth on your middle and fore finger sucking on them. You remove them from his mouth and bring them to your clit.

Adrian’s eyes widen, “Fuck yeah, play with yourself for me.”

You smile devilishly at him as you rub on yourself with quick circles as you roll your hips into his thrusts. You whimper as you feel your edging orgasm. Your pussy dripping onto Adrian’s comforter at this point as you clench yourself around him. He can feel you squeezing his cock intermittently, sensing your finish.

“Yeah, that’s my girl, get it. Cum for me.” Adrian was on a mission to make you explode. He secretly hoped you were a squirter because he never got to see that before.

“Harder, Adrian…Fuck me harder…fucking wreck me.” You begged.

 His bucking pace increased, slamming into you as he brought up one of your legs over his shoulder to get deeper inside you.

You let out a demonic growl, “Oh…my…fucking God, Adrian!”

He maintained his thrusts, “Yeah that’s right, fucking get it!”

He spanked your exposed ass cheek and that was it. You splurged onto his throbbing dick as he rides out your orgasm until he reaches his. One final slam into your cunt as he coats your walls with his spend. He holds himself there, panting. You can feel his dick twitch and pulsating inside you.

He made one more grab of your tit, kneading it then pinching your hardened nipple rolling the tip between his fingers before slowly pulling out of you, but as he does, a mixture of yours and his spend practically waterfall out of your entrance. Adrian took his middle and forefinger and guided the escaped cum back up your folds, sliding it back inside you.

He made eye contact with you followed by a devious grin, “This stays in there.” He whispered.

You grin back, “You are dirty, Adrian Allen Chase.”

You like it…a lot.

“This will definitely be happening again.” You decided.

~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Who’s the New Guy?

Chapter 2: Shenanigans & Saliva

Chapter 4: My Hero

Masterlist

[ginevrastilinski-ocs]

Plot bunny: noi siamo leggenda

Give me my new children

My babies! Your babies! Our babies! (You have no idea how much makes me happy someone throwing in my inbox asks about some of my italian babies, you literally have no idea)

Okay so, we have 7 babies, one born after we talked about fcs btw (never had this many for a fiction Rai or generally for one of my italian fandoms lmao)

(Also, can do a little moodboard thing with every ship vibes... if you want to... 👀 I have an idea that I could do even with different couples so... 👀)

Officially meet...

Elia Amato!

Michelangelo's older brother; Nicola Ravenna's best friend; kind of a dick until it's about his brother; no seriously, he's ready to kill a man in a second to protect him. Actually, he's very white cis man vibes but I swear he gets better! Powerless baby (lmao loser) Ship TBD

FC: Lorenzo Zurzolo

Michelangelo Amato!

Elia's baby brother; this boy's anxiety has anxiety; hates crowded places and loud noises and loves music aka he's always wearing headphones in public; a sweetheart with everybody but also the loner of the school; just wished to know what people thinks about him so he could finally fit in... honey, you've got a big storm coming Mind reader. But he struggles a lot with it bc he can't control it, he just hears everybody (the range depends on how much he panicks basically) thoughts all together, unless he's touching somebody, then he hears just that person. That's the main reason why he's always wearing headphones later on btw. Jean Liberati ship

FC: Domenico Cuomo (But could change bc some news says that he might be in it for season 2, so... we'll see)

Ambra Mariano!

Shares class with Greta; from a rich family; actress daughter of actors parents; loves her parents but sometimes wishes they were a "normal" family; tiny closeted lesbian btw Illusions bc she feels like her life is a big one Lin Mei Sun ship (but might evolve in a Lin x Sara ship)

FC: Ellie Bamber

Genevieve Liberati!

Jean's older sister (always complains that everyone thinks she's the younger one); the perfect daughter aka the favourite (hates when her father picks favourites bc Jean is her favourite person in the world); too smart for her own good; somehow always finds out everyone crushes even before them; also lowkey wants to set them all and is basically Cupid lmao Already excited for when in season 2 she'll find out that her father indirectly killed her girlfriend's mother but okay Powerless baby (she's already too much powerful she doesn't need them) Lara Petrescu ship

FC: Katherine Langford

Melissa "Meli" Perez!

Marco, Massimo and Andrea bestie; form a big colombian-italian family; total sunshine girl; just wants to make her people happy Empathy through aura reading. Bc my baby totally has witchy vibes and is already the most empathetic person on Earth. Also she technically has emotions manipulation, but like, very very light. Massimo Bianchi & Marco Nenchi ship

FC: Rachel Zegler

Sylvie Badeau!

Jean's childhood friend aka comes from a rich french family; trauma walking baby (you'll want to murder her parents trust me); the sweetie of the group; no really with her the found family trope is so strong, they all would die for her (Jean can't die so he would kill for her lmao) Invisibility. Bc my girl needs a way to escape her shitty familiar life and that's the fastest way. Marco Nenchi ship

FC: Flavie Delangle

Filippo Monti!

Nicola Ravenna's best friend; highkey hates the others in his group but hangs with them bc it's "or you're one of the cool guys and an asshole oer you're bullied"; technically Nicola's age but failed one year so he's in class with all the others Clairevoyance. This is actually very tbd but I just know it fits okay. You have to trust me on this Andrea Ravenna ship

FC: Francesco Centorame

[pollicinor]

Psyco (1960) Alfred Hitchcock Il mago di Oz (1939) Victor Fleming Il padrino (1972) Francis Ford Coppola Quarto potere (1941) Orson Welles Pulp Fiction (1994) Quentin Tarantino I sette samurai (1954) Akira Kurosawa 2001: Odissea nello spazio (1968) Stanley Kubrick La vita è meravigliosa (1946) Frank Capra Eva contro Eva (1951) Joseph L. Mankiewicz Salvate il soldato Ryan (1998) Steven Spielberg Cantando sotto la pioggia (1952) Stanley Donen e Gene Kelly Quei bravi ragazzi (1990) Martin Scorsese La regola del gioco (1939) Jean Renoir Fa' la cosa giusta (1989) Spike Lee Aurora (1927) Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau Casablanca (1942) Michael Curtiz Nashville (1975) Robert Altman Persona (1966) Ingmar Bergman Il padrino - Parte II (1974) Francis Ford Coppola Velluto Blu (1986) David Lynch Via col vento (1939) Victor Fleming Chinatown (1974) Roman Polanski L'appartamento (1960) Billy Wilder Tokyo Story (1953) Yasujirō Ozu Susanna! (1938) Howard Hawks I 400 colpi (1959) François Truffaut Gangster Story (1967) Arthur Penn Luci della città (1931) Charlie Chaplin La fiamma del peccato (1944) Billy Wilder L'impero colpisce ancora (1980) Irvin Kershner Quinto potere (1976) Sidney Lumet La donna che visse due volte (1958) Alfred Hitchcock 8 1/2 (1963) Federico Fellini Ombre rosse (1939) John Ford Il silenzio degli innocenti (1991) Jonathan Demme Fronte del porto (1954) Elia Kazan Io e Annie (1977) Woody Allen Lawrence d'Arabia (1962) David Lean A qualcuno piace caldo (1959) Billy Wilder Fargo (1996) Joel e Ethan Coen Il mucchio selvaggio (1969) Sam Peckinpah Moonlight (2016) Barry Jenkins Shoah (1985) Claude Lanzmann L’avventura (1960) Michelangelo Antonioni Titanic (1997) James Cameron Notorious - L'amante perduta (1946) Alfred Hitchcock Mean Streets (1973) Martin Scorsese Lezioni di Piano (1993) Jane Campion Non aprite quella porta (1974) Tobe Hooper Fino all'ultimo respiro (1960) Jean-Luc Godard Apocalypse Now (1979) Francis Ford Coppola Come vinsi la guerra (1926) Buster Keaton In the Mood for Love (2000) Wong Kar-wai Interceptor - Il guerriero della strada (1981) George Miller Il lamento sul sentiero (1955) Satyajit Ray Rosemary's Baby (1968) Roman Polanski I segreti di Brokeback Mountain (2005) Ang Lee E.T. - L'extraterrestre (1982) Steven Spielberg Senza tetto né legge (1985) Agnès Varda Moulin Rouge! (2001) Buz Luhrmann La passione di Giovanna D'Arco (1928) Carl Theodor Dreyer La vita è un sogno (1993) Richard Linklater Bambi (1942) David Hand Carrie - Lo sguardo di Satana (1976) Brian De Palma Un condannato a morte è fuggito (1956) Robert Bresson Parigi brucia (1990) Jennie Livingston Ladri di biciclette (1948) Vittorio De Sica King Kong (1933) Merian C. Cooper e Ernest B. Schoedsack Beau Travail (1999) Claire Denis 12 anni schiavo (2013) Steve McQueen Il matrimonio del mio migliore amico (1997) P. J. Hogan Le onde del destino (1996) Lars von Trier Intolerance (1916) D.W. Griffith Il mio vicino Totoro (1988) Hayao Miyazaki Boogie Nights (1997) Paul Thomas Anderson The Tree of Life (2011) Terrence Malick Agente 007 - Missione Goldfinger (1964) Guy Hamilton Jeanne Dielman (1975) Chantal Akerman Sognando Broadway (1966) Christopher Guest Pixote - La legge del più debole (1981) Héctor Babenco Il cavaliere oscuro (2008) Christopher Nolan Parasite (2019) Bong Joon-ho Kramer contro Kramer (1979) Robert Benton Il labirinto del fauno (2006) Guillermo del Toro Assassini nati - Natural Born Killers (1994) Oliver Stone Close Up (1990) Abbas Kiarostami Tutti insieme appassionatamente (1965) Robert Wise Malcolm X (1992) Spike Lee Bella di giorno (1967) Luis Buñuel The Shining (1980) Stanley Kubrick Scene da un matrimonio (1974) Ingmar Bergman Pink Flamingos (1972) John Waters Frank Costello faccia d'angelo (1967) Jean-Pierre Melville Le amiche della sposa (2011) Paul Feig Toy Story (1995) John Lasseter Tutti per uno (1964) Richard Lester Alien (1979) Ridley Scott Donne sull'orlo di una crisi di nervi (1988) Pedro Almodóvar La parola ai giurati (1957) Sidney Lumet Il laureato (1967) Mike Nichols

Dall’articolo "I 100 migliori film della Storia del Cinema secondo Variety: 1° Psyco, 5° Pulp Fiction, 33° 8 1/2, 45° Titanic" di Antonio Bracco

[baldguy-fight]

B SIDE BALDIES REVEAL

With 539 responses and 231 unique entries, the B side baldies are...

Captain Jean-Luc Picard (Star Trek) - 45 nominations

Benjamin Sisko (Star Trek) - 31 nominations

Clintopher (IRL) - 15 nominations

Dr. Eggman (Sonic) - 14 nominations

Charles Xavier/Professor X (X-Men) - 13 nominations

Craig Pelton (Community) - 10 nominations

Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello Hamato (TMNT) - 10 nominations

Sans (Undertale) - 9 nominations

The Judge (Ace Attorney) - 9 nominations

Homer Simpson (The Simpsons) - 9 nominations

Lex Luthor (DC comics/Superman) - 9 nominations

Your dad (IRL) - 8 nominations

Teruki Hanazawa (Mob Psycho 100) - 8 nominations

Heavy (Team Fortress 2) - 8 nominations

Wipper Dripper (IRL) - 8 nominations

Dr. Evil (Austin Powers) - 8 nominations

A couple of notes

This is not how they'll appear in the actual bracket!! I will randomized each match and place them on the bracket accordingly

There were 5 characters that received 8 nominations. However, there were only 4 slots left in the bracket. In the sake of fairness, I drew numbers to determine who would make it into the bracket. This means that Krillin (DBZ), who also had 8 nominations, did not make the bracket :(

I plan to host a larger tournament later with the rest of the baldies that did not make this bracket

Round 1 will begin on March 5th at 12:00 pm CST and will last for 1 week

Thank you to everyone who submitted a baldie! May the best baldie win!

[joostjongepier]

Wat?   Brown Spot (Portrait of Andy Warhol as a banana) ((1984) door Jean-Michel Basquiat, Jean-Michel Basquiat (1984) door Andy Warhol, Los Cabazos 91984) door Jean-Michel Basquiat, China Paramount (1984), African Masks (ca. 1984) en Taxi, 45th/Broadway (1984-1985) door Jean-Michel Basquiat en Andy Warhol

Waar?   Fondation Louis Vuitton, Parijs

Wanneer?   31 juli 2023

Andy Warhol ken ik al een groot deel van mijn leven. Jean-Michel Basquiat ontdekte ik pas een paar jaar geleden. Sindsdien ben ik een groot fan van zijn werk. Van 1983 tot 1985 blijken beide kunstenaars nauw te hebben samengewerkt. Basquiat beweerde een miljoen schilderijen met Warhol samen te hebben gemaakt. Dat was lichtelijk overdreven. Het waren er in werkelijkheid zo’n honderdzestig. Beide kunstenaars werden in oktober 1982 aan elkaar voorgesteld door galeriehouder Bruno Bishofberger, die hen beiden representeerde. Ondanks het leeftijdsverschil klikte het meteen tussen de twee. Aanvankelijk werkten ze samen met Francesco Clemente, later zetten de twee hun samenwerking voort. De samenwerking tussen Warhol, Basquiat en Clemente leverde zo’n vijftien schilderijen op. De werken werden van studio naar studio vervoerd en elke kunstenaar voegde elementen toe, waarbij ieders eigen stijl zichtbaar bleef.

Warhol en Basquiat maakten verschillende portretten van elkaar, zoals Brown Spot (Portrait of Andy Warhol as a banana) en Jean-Michel Basquiat (in de pose van Michelangelo’s David). Toen Bishofberger de twee kunstenaars aan elkaar had voorgesteld, vroeg Basquiat hem om een foto van hem en Warhol te maken. Basquiat vertrok en twee uur later bracht zijn assistent het schilderij Dos Cabezas naar Warhol’s Factory. Hierop riep Warhol uit: “Oh, I’m so jealous! He’s faster than me.””

Een fraai voorbeeld van de samenwerking tussen Warhol en Basquiat is China Paramount.  Het door Warhol toegevoegde logo van Paramount Pictures staat voor de Amerikaanse filmindustrie, maar is ook een eerbetoon aan zijn toenmalige levenspartner Jon Gold, die bij het bedrijf werkte. Ronald Reagan, de acteur die president werd, propageerde in de jaren tachtig van de vorige eeuw goede handelsrelaties met China. Hieraan ontleent het werk zijn naam. Basquiats zwarte figuren geven aan dat de Afro-Amerikaanse bevolking niet meedeelt in de groeiende welvaart van de jaren tachtig.

Basquiats aandacht voor zijn Afrikaanse roots komt ook tot uiting in het meterslange werk Afrikan Masks. Warhol schreef hierover in zijn dagboek: “We painted an African masterpiece together. One hundred feet long. He’s better than I am, though” (29 mei 1984).

Taxi, 45th/Broadway geeft een autobiografische scène uit Basquiats leven weer. Toen hij een taxi wilde aanhouden, kreeg hij alleen maar beledigingen toegeschreeuwd. Kunstenaar Keith Haring, een vriend van Basquiat, zei hierover: “”Being black and a kid and having dreadlocks, he couldn’t even get a taxi. But he could spend $ 10,000 in his pocket.”

De tentoonstelling Jean-Michel Basquiat x Andy Warhol, Painting Four Hands is een grote tentoonstelling. Wat de vele werken vooral laten zien is het enthousiasme waarmee ze zijn gemaakt, de wederzijdse onderlinge inspiratie. De kunstscène in New York in de jaren tachtig was een bruisende creatieve smeltkroes.

[lugusgirum]

Fugue in G Minor, BWV 578 by Jean-Sébastien Bach X Michelangelo Antonioni, L'Eclisse

[ao3feed-izch]

Operation Triple T! (Titanic Teen Team)

by He_Who_Sees

"You forty, America's best teen superheroes–and the ones we lucked out in getting on such short notice–will pose as foreign exchange students to UA's Hero Course from America, find this major mobster recruiting operation, and work your way up to Slade, Shigaraki, and the quantum vapor, avoiding detection and/or direct confrontation if at all possible." -Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD

Words: 12877, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012), Teen Titans (Animated Series), X-Men Evolution, Ben 10 Series, Hulk and the Agents of S.M.A.S.H. (Cartoon), American Dragon: Jake Long, Danny Phantom, Kim Possible (Cartoon), Blue Beetle (Comics), Static Shock, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Kingdom Hearts (Video Games), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Koriand'r (DCU), Robin, Dick Grayson, Garfield Logan, Victor Stone, Cyborg (Character), Raven (Teen Titans), Jaime Reyes, Virgil "Static" Hawkins, Richie "Gear" Foley, Peter Parker, Rick Jones (Marvel), Danny Rand, Cyclops, Kitty Pryde, Evan Daniels (X-Men), Rogue (X-Men), Toad (X-Men), Leonardo (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), Donatello (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT), Ben Tennyson, Kevin Levin, Gwen Tennyson, Danny Fenton, Jake Long, Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Slade Wilson, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Nick Fury, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, League of Villains (My Hero Academia), Luke Cage, Sam Alexander, Rufus (Kim Possible), Midoriya Izuku, Asui Tsuyu, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Class 1-B (My Hero Academia)

Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Jean Grey/Scott Summers, Kim Possible/Ron Stoppable, Garfield Logan/Raven, Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako, Asui Tsuyu/Todd Tolansky, Asui Tsuyu/Toad

Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Superheroes, Mystery, Suspense, Crossover, Angst, Teen Romance, Drama

source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55643836