#so I’m not surprised that I can’t with you either

[lucygraysboy]

“all these things sound so nice. will you show me how to knit blankets one day?” he asks with a smile, eyes bright and hopeful at the possibility of learning how to knit — just so that he can surprise her with a sweater or a scarf one day. “if i have a minute, you know, when i’m not hidin’ or runnin’ away, i read books, too. mostly poetry ‘cause it’s fascinatin’ how the same poem can mean somethin’ completely different, dependin’ on how you’re feelin’ or what you’re goin’ through.” lucy gray. he still can’t believe there’s a poem about her. his ma loved it so much, and now it means even more to him. “hm? no, never.” he’s quick to shake his head, blushing as his brain recognizes the trick in the question. “mhm, especially when i really want somethin’ done a certain way. i don’t budge often.” funny he says that when he’s been doing plenty of budging just for this girl. “i don’t want no goat teeth marks on my bum, alright? that’s all,” he fibs, hanging the bridle on a hook in the stables and turning around only to realize she’s left him alone. the goat standing dangerously near the barn doors. “lucy gray. lucy gray!” he half-yells, half-whispers, there’s urgency in his voice, pale blue eyes never leaving the goat as he lunges forward. “you forgot ‘bout me! wait on me!” he trots over to her, not quite running but not really walking calmly either, looking back to make sure shamus won’t attack him from behind. “lemme help ya with ‘em taters!”

“i just hang out with my animal friends, i talk to them, or i get in a rockin’ chair and read books, play songs, braid my hair, try to knit blankets.” the brunette answers, do extra cleaning or make soap, a handful of things. “that’s true, but i’m sure sometimes it can be found as an annoyin’ thing?” she playfully wonders to poke a reaction out of him. “what about you? are you ever stubborn?” amusement washing over her face, mischief sparkling in her eye. “that’s the point of her bein’ my daughter! if you ain’t scared of her, then why are you worried about her bitin’ you?” lucy gray laughs, pointing at him standing way over there keeping his distance, giving shamus one last pet before twirling away from her to leave her out in the yard with billy by himself as a joke. seeing if he’ll hightail it out of here with her as she heads to the porch.

[crybaby-bkg]

SACRIFICES & WICKED VICES

Izuku doesn't need you to know that he's the boss of one of the most infamous Yakuza groups. Too bad he's pretty shit at hiding it.

Warnings: yakuza boss Izuku x civilian reader, lots of cunnilingus, vaginal fingering mentions of tattoos, non graphic mentions of violence, Izuku picks reader up twice, pet names include princess baby and love, blowjobs, and very soft and emotional sex Word Count: 6.6k Notes: as many of you know, this fic is based on a Drabble I created back in June 2023!! I can't believe it took me this long to write it, but this is for Kitten and Kitten only!!! <3 Also available on Ao3! Minors and ageless blogs DNI.

“Excuse me!” A deep voice yells out, catching your attention as your head turns to look over your shoulder. There’s a green haired man a couple feet behind you, bent over, grabbing something from the ground that you can’t make out from around his fingers. When he stands, you’re slightly taken aback by his looks and his size, more focused on the overwhelming smattering of freckles that dot his face than what you had dropped. He’s handsome, the man, with eyes to match his hair of a deep verdant color, a scar across his nose and through his eyebrow, his smile big and kind, his frame wider than what you’d expect from a face like his. 

Finally, do you manage to pry your eyes from his own to look down at his hands. You discover that your favorite lipgloss had somehow fallen from your bag, and you briskly pad over to the man who holds it out to you. 

“Oh, thank you so much!” You bow to him as you grab the tube from his hand, your fingers grazing over his rough and scarred palms. “I would’ve been pissed to have to kick out another twenty bucks for a lipgloss.” You roll your eyes at the price, smiling at the man who gives you a kind one in return. His eyes drink you in, almost respectfully so, as he tries to gather the right thing to say. 

“With or without it, you’re very beautiful, you know.” The stranger says, his words soft as they carry over the nights howling wind. He straightens when your eyebrows raise in surprise, his freckled face becoming pinker by the minute as he laughs awkwardly to himself. 

“That was—that was creepy, I’m—”

“No,” you cut him off with a wave of your hands, unable to stop grinning from the compliment. “That wasn’t creepy at all, I promise. If it was, I would’ve maced you by now.” You shrug halfheartedly, a playful look on your face. The stranger laughs, his smile wide and genuine, makes you damn near swoon at the dimples in his cheeks. 

“And I would’ve very much deserved it.” He smiles at you, his head tilting to the side, a curl of emerald hair shadowing his eyes for a split second. This man is handsome, and the longer he looks at you like that, the weaker you can feel your knees getting. When too much time passes without either of you saying anything, he opens his mouth, thumb hooked behind him as if poised to leave. You take a step in his direction quickly, your eyebrows raised in question as you rush out your words. 

“Can I ask you out to dinner sometime?” You spit out, surprising yourself at your boldness to make the first move, nerves immediately hitting you in the gut. What if he says no? What if he’s already taken and was just being polite? 

“As a way to thank you for saving me twenty bucks?” You tack on quickly when his mouth closes and opens again, cutting him off once more. He only smiles though, shaking his head at you as he scratches at the scruff on his chin.  

“Please, you don’t have to repay me.” He tells you, but doesn’t offer up any other reason that screams for you to back off. He doesn’t walk off either, and doesn’t look like he wants to any moment now. So you bite the bullet again, and hope that you’re not embarrassing yourself too much in front of the handsome, well dressed stranger. 

“Well can I just ask you out to dinner then? Just for the fun of it?” You ask him, shoulders raised, smile strained, hopeful. The man considers you for a long moment, before his eyes wander off down the street, over your shoulder, over his own, his hands scratching incessantly at his scruff. You can feel your excitement dying down by the second, the sinking feeling of rejection hitting you right in the belly as you slowly start to deflate. You open your mouth to rescind your offer and apologize, ready to walk away with your tail tucked between your legs, when he speaks. 

“Sure.” He says with a small smile before it brightens at the surprised look on your face, chuckling under his breath. “Sure, I’d like that.” He repeats, grin matching your own as he sticks his large hand out to you. 

“My name is Izuku, by the way.” He tells you, fitting your palm in his own. You wonder how he’s gotten so many scars on the backs of them, how many freckles you could count on just his right hand, as you introduce yourself to him. You exchange numbers with Izuku, promising to text him the details when you find the perfect place to dine at. 

“I don’t always answer in the most timeliest of manners, but please don’t take that as my disinterest. I just have a pretty packed schedule.” He tells you, his face suddenly going serious as he tilts his head down until you’re forced eye to eye with him. Slightly taken aback, you pause before nodding profusely, smiling a little as you wave his worries away. 

“That’s totally fine.” You promise him, checking the time as you realize you need to be home in a few minutes (your cat gets very finicky about dinner time, and you do not want to face her wrath today). “I’ll text you!” You call over your shoulder as you start to jog down the street, smiling at this mystery man who you can’t wait to know more about. Especially those tattoos on his wrist that you got just the tiniest glimpse of when he shook your hand. 

…

The night of your date takes place exactly one week after running into Izuku. You don’t text him first until three days after meeting, and he replied just last night to confirm meeting today. You’ve been nervous since the moment your eyes opened this morning, trying to figure out what you’re gonna wear, how you’ll do your makeup, what time you’ll have to get off work to make it home to shower and shave (thinking very far ahead, if you’re lucky), feed your cat, catch the train—

It’s a lot. But you’re here now, dressed in something soft and flowing for the summer night, sandals adorning your feet, makeup painted pretty and delicate, your cat at home and fed, and right on time. But Izuku is nowhere to be found, as you stand outside the restaurant for a few minutes, tote bag held in front of you to ward off the attention from anybody that’s not him. After a while, do you finally go inside so that you don’t miss your reservation. 

The hostess’ eyes damn near bulge out of her head when you tell her who the reservation is for, under his name, and she escorts you to the furthest most booth in the back. Its dimly lit there, but you notice a few eyes lingering on you as you make yourself comfortable. It must be because you don’t fit in much with the others and their attires, who mainly wear suits or traditional wear, so you brush off the looks and hope that Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting too long. 

He shows up twenty minutes after your agreed time, in a rush, huffing and panting as he loosens his tie on his way over to the table with an apologetic look on his face. You stand as he finally makes his way to the table, smiling at him and his flushed cheeks. 

“My apologies,” he starts, ruffling his hair into place as he tries to look more put together. “A business meeting ran a little longer than usual, and then my driver scraped somebody’s car, and,” 

Izuku stops abruptly mid sentence when he finally, actually, looks at you for the first time that night. His eyes go round, his mouth falling just the tiniest bit, his gaze drinking in every single inch of you from head to toe. His mouth snaps shut audibly, which makes you laugh behind your palm, and he finally looks you in the eye almost shyly. 

“I must be a blind idiot to not have first noticed how beautiful you look tonight.” The compliment rolls almost smoothly off of his tongue, his voice coated in velvet. It makes your face warm as you halfheartedly fix your hair, your eyes taking in his own outfit for the night. He wears a simple black suit, but its carved to the exact shape of his body, molded onto his thick biceps and muscled thighs. He slips off his tie smoothly before tucking it into his back pocket, popping open the first few buttons of his white shirt, revealing just the tiniest slither of pale, freckled skin. 

“You also look very beautiful,” you tell him with a smile before it drops in horror at the slight cock of his eyebrow, his inching grin. “Well, not beautiful, but—but handsome? Very handsome and polished and, I don’t know.” Izuku only laughs at your babbling, and you shake your head at your motor mouth. 

“I’ll take beautiful as a compliment any day if its coming from your mouth.” He says softly, his eyes an emerald green that seem to shine a bit brighter, even in the dull light of the restaurant. You only smile at him, thanking him softly as he holds out your chair for you to sit in. 

After that, the date goes smoothly. You two sit and talk for what feels like hours, ordering course after course that Izuku ensures will be fine on his credit card. You share a bottle of sake, and the restaurant is close to empty by the time the night begins to dwindle down for the two of you. 

So far, you’ve learned that Izuku is a businessman—he doesn’t specific what business exactly, but he mentioned something about numbers and finances. He runs his own company, one that he says isn’t too successful, but you’re not sure just how true that is when he doesn’t even gawk at the bill once its laid between you on the table. He’s twenty-eight, and lives by himself, his favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip, and he loves his best friend very much, despite the fact that said best friend is very much so against that idea. 

All in all, Izuku is kind, and sweet, and seems so attentive and caring. He hangs onto your every word, and actually shows interest in the things that you talk about. He asks you on another date, this time, as he walks you to the train station, and of course, you agree. 

The next couple of weeks go by relatively smooth when it comes to Izuku. He’s gentlemanly, despite the fact that he shows up late to a majority of your dates. He always makes it up by bringing flowers and your favorite snacks, offering you more and more lavish desserts and even a pair of diamond earrings by the fourth date. 

It’s a lot, at first, getting used to being spoiled by him. But Izuku makes it so easy with his charming smile and easygoing attitude. That makes it even easier to let him spoil you in other, nonmaterial ways. 

He’s a giver, through and through. That much is obvious when you take him back to your place after the fifth date, and he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, pinning you against the door to your place. You can hear your cat scurrying away from the flurry of commotion, of flying clothes and your greedy hands. Izuku pins you with his hips, a heavy bulge that he presses against you, his mouth covering every inch of exposed skin that he can. 

“My bed,” you say in between breathless kisses, but Izuku either doesn’t hear you, or straight up ignores you, as he carries you over to your couch instead. He sets you down gently, his mouth still connected with yours, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you when he finally pulls away to look at you, and you at him. His mouth is smeared with your lipgloss, panting as his pupils have blown completely out, the bright green of his eyes swallowed whole by his desire. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs under his breath, pressing another searing kiss to your mouth before he begins kissing and nipping his way down your throat. He kneels before you, one hand around your waist, the other creeping beneath the skirt you wore. Izuku mouths at your pulse point, feeling it jump under the ridges of his teeth, inhaling your scent as his thick fingers brush against the band of your panties. 

“Can I?” He asks softly against your skin, tongue darting out to taste the building sweat there. “Can I lick your pussy? Can I make you cum? Please,” 

You think you might’ve orgasmed already, without him even touching you. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your throat, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you vigorously nod your head. Izuku moans against your skin, biting softly and pulling with sharp teeth until you gasp from the pain, before soothing it over with a gentle peck of his lips. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your chest, mouthing at your nipples through your layers. He makes a promise to come back to your breasts later, his mind too busy focused on getting the taste of you forever ingrained on his tongue. Izuku pushes your skirt up until it rests on your stomach, pressing a kiss to your bellybutton, before he finally makes his way to your panty covered cunt. 

He fists the material in his grip, but instead of pulling the fabric away, he pulls it up until your lips make an obscene print against the material. Your breath catches in your throat at the slight sting, the way your panties rub against your swelling clit, but Izuku only coos at the way you wriggle under his watchful gaze. 

He kisses your lips with the same passion he did with the ones on your face. His head tilts this way and that, as he mouths at the outline, his lips pucker as he sucks your clit through the material, feeling it grow fat and thick under his tongue. He licks at you through the fabric until its soaked, until it sticks against your cunt, until the material is dark and soaked with his spit and your slick. 

You damn near cry when Izuku finally peels the material away from you, the softness of his lips encasing your own as he kisses them so sweetly, so delicately that you can’t help but roll your hips against his face. He holds you by the waist, not to keep you still, but to encourage you to use him. 

“Fuck my face,” he goads, looking at you from under his green curls, his eyes blown out with lust, his mouth dropped open as he guides your hips to roll your clit along his tongue. He pushes your cunt to his mouth, fucking your hips down as you hold eye contact, fingers grasped desperately in his hair to anchor yourself. 

Izuku watches you as you use him, as you spread your knees and open yourself up to let his tongue slide inside of your wet hole. He grips your hips tightly, lips pursing to spit on your clit before catching it on his tongue as it rolls down to messy with the slick dripping from your hole. The sight is obscene, and you feel yourself orgasming before you can even warn him. 

But Izuku doesn’t stop. You’re not even sure he knows whether or not you came, because he only bullies two fingers inside of you as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your back arches from the couch, your cry similar to something feline, as you squeeze your eyes shut from the overstimulation. You try to push his head away, gasping for breath, but Izuku only tilts his face so that he can swallow the entirety of your puffy clit. His fingers crook inside of you, stroking sensitive walls that clench tightly around his thick digits. 

“I can’t!” You whine, despite the fact that you fuck your hips down on his hand and his hot mouth until you’re breathless. 

“Please, one more. You can take it.” Izuku moans against you, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue before spitting on it once more, making your entire lower body twitch. You dig your fingers into his hair, eyes clenched shut as you plant one foot on the couch, the other against his shoulder. Izuku only holds it tenderly against him, as if his other hand isn’t pressing against that weak spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

You cum again with a hoarse cry, your hips jerking from the intensity, tears alighting your eyes as you squeeze your eyes shut. Finally, does Izuku seem to pull back from you, licking the slick drooling from your hole with sweet little laps, massaging your lips gently with the pads of his fingers. You can hear him lick your essence from his fingers, too fucked out to even be able to watch, but your hole clenches at the sound of it, nonetheless. 

“Hope I didn’t push you too much,” Izuku mutters after a few moments of quiet, your arm slung over your eyes as you try to catch your breath. He moves your arm gently, his big verdant eyes blinking up at you, unsure if he did went a little too far during his first time with you. But you smile at him, still slightly breathless, before pulling him to your mouth. 

You kiss him, your tongue slithering against his own, lapping at the taste of yourself. You pull gently at his roots until he moans, wrapping your arms around his neck until he falls against you, head tilted to the side as he brushes his tongue over the smoothness of your teeth, your gums. You start to sneak a hand down his front to return the favor, but Izuku quickly catches your wrist, bringing it to his mouth as he kisses the pads of each and every one of your fingertips. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your skin, placing his cheek in the palm of your hand as he kisses the skin there again and again. You can’t help but frown though, rubbing his nape and the tops of his strong shoulders with your free hand. 

“Really? Are you sure?” You ask, not used to men turning down you putting your hands or mouth on them whatsoever. It’s strange, the way he turns away from you to hide his erection while still planting kisses on whatever exposed skin he can reach. He mouths at the softness of your belly, humming against the skin there when you scratch at his scalp soothingly. 

“I’m sure.” He says softly, turning to face you as he smiles reassuringly, but you’re still not buying it. A handsome businessman as himself, surely pent up from all the late night shifts and difficult clients—and he doesn’t want you to touch him back? 

“You know, I don’t mind at all.” You tell him, raking in his entire form, how gorgeous he looks on his knees before you, his mouth still wet with your cum. “Actually, I’d love to return the favor.” You whisper, cupping his cheek to pull him to you, hands reaching down to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he stops you once more. You frown. 

“I’m more of a giver than a receiver, in all honesty.” Izuku says, the tops of his cheeks hinting red beneath his freckles as he blinks up at you. A small piece of you, a tiny slither, doesn’t really believe him, but you don’t argue with him anymore. Just let him kiss you quiet, his fingers slipping inside you once more as he instantly finds that spot inside that makes you see stars. He massages it, thumb pressed to your clit as he slowly works you to another orgasm as you cry against his mouth, creaming on his fingers. 

Most of your encounters, after that, are pretty similar. Izuku still takes you on dates, but he’s getting better about being late. He brings you more and more gifts, pays for the meal, has his driver bring you both back to your place, and then he’s in between your legs for what feels like hours. He asks you to be his girlfriend after a few months of seeing each other, and you think the one sided pleasure will end there, but if anything, it gets even worse. 

Izuku buys you toys so that he can play with you, if he gets tired of using his mouth or his fingers. But he still never lets you touch him. You’ve only ever seen his cock in passing, as he jerks himself off while he touches you, or cums in his pants after having you squirt all over his face. You understand that he likes to give, but isn’t it a little strange to never want to receive? To never even want to be seen naked in front of your girlfriend? 

Was he insecure about his body? That didn’t make sense. He was jacked and muscular as hell, from what you could tell touching him through his clothing. You caught a few glances of tattoos that he had when you first met, a few more times in passing. Was he afraid that you wouldn’t like them, that you would find them unattractive? You know how Japan is when it comes to marking your body with ink, but it would never be enough to phase you to never want to see your boyfriends glorious body naked. 

Every time you tried to bring it up, Izuku came up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t get naked in front of you. He’d fuck you fully clothed, which was actually kind of hot, but it still wasn’t enough for you. To have him guiding you up and down on his cock, to messy his expensively tailored pants with your slick as you scratch up his button down shirts that you were begging to rip open. 

You figured he maybe had a really bad scar he wasn’t too proud of, or maybe an embarrassing tattoo he got when he was young. Either way, you’re determined to let your boyfriend know that its okay for him to be open and vulnerable with you as you are with him. 

Izuku likes to be on a schedule, you’ve learned about him, in these past couple of months. So you know that he must be showering the day off at the moment, and you take that moment to FaceTime him. A little manipulative, knowing that he’ll always answer the phone for you? Maybe. But it’s been months since you started dating, a year since you met, and you still haven’t seen anything past his wrists and collarbones! 

Izuku answers on the fourth ring, his eyes wide as he holds the phone up so only his chin and above are seen. He looks shifty eyed, unsure, his thick eyebrows screwed down as he forces a little smile in your direction. 

“Hey, princess. What are you doing calling me so late?” He asks, eyes darting around as he tries to maintain the phone above chin level. He does a poor job at it though, with the mirror at his back that exposed a colorful shoulder blade covered in ink. You don’t say anything though, afraid that you’ll spook him. 

“I just wanted to see you.” You tell him softly, angling the phone in a way that shows off your prettiness, knowing how weak it’ll make him. It does just that; Izuku softens his eyebrows, his smile melting into one that’s more genuine, his arm lowering ever so slightly. Your eyes trace the ink on his back, big and expansive, green and blue scales that curve all the way down to his ass. You’ve never wanted to bite something so bad. 

“Well, I just got out of the shower, so,” he trails off, his grin a little lopsided as you pout your lip at him. 

“Can you come over, actually?” You ask him, ready to get everything over it, to have it all spelled out in front of you. The hiding and the sneakiness bothers you more than the scars and the bruises on his knuckles, the little specks of blood that he forgets to clean off of his collar. Izuku’s smile dims just the slightest bit at the change of your tone, the phone lowering even more for you to see that the tattoo covers the entirety of his ass. Fuckin’ hot! 

“Everything okay, baby?” Izuku asks, toweling off his hair with his free hand, his curls still damp and limp as they straggle over the roundness of his eyes. 

“Yeah, just what I need to talk to you about should be in person.” You say softly, resting your head in your arms as you turn the camera to face the ceiling more, growing tired of holding your phone up. Izuku stops drying off his hair, his mouth setting in a thin line as his voice lowers, 

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks quietly. You only snort though and shake your head at him, at how the worry bleeds on his face, how he doesn’t instantly go murderous at the thought of you wanting to leave him. If anything, he looks more like a kicked puppy. How could he could be the leader of such an organization is definitely beyond you. 

“No,” you chuckle. “Not at all. Just come over so we can talk.” 

“Okay,” Izuku says hesitantly, his movements a lot slower this time. He tells you he’ll be at your house in thirty, but its more like fifteen with how he speeds down the empty roads so late at night. 

Izuku is there in record time, knocking incessantly at your door, his anxiety levels on high. He hasn’t been this nervous since his first kill, and something about the idea of you needing to see him in person, unplanned, at the drop of a hat, makes his stomach twist more than he cares to admit. You make him wait, just to be an asshole, for a minute longer than necessary, before you open the door to him. 

Izuku stands there, dressed more haphazardly than you have ever seen him. Usually polished and poised in his suits and expensive clothing, he instead stands in an old long sleeve tee shirt that says “t-shirt” and a pair of baggy sweatpants, worn running shoes adorning his feet. 

“Hi, my love,” you greet him with a smile, pulling him inside your place with a grip on the front of his shirt. Izuku stumbles in, never being so unsure on his feet in years, it makes him feel like he’s a teenager again. You crush your lips to his own, carding a hand through his still damp hair as you press up on your tippy toes to kiss him. He melts into the kiss, forgetting about the anxiety fluttering in his stomach, his eyes still dazed when you pull back and look at him with such a soft smile, he wondered why he was ever nervous in the first place. 

“Hey, princess.” He smiles, the soft sight dropping the moment you open your mouth. 

“I know that you’re a yakuza member, and I think its fine time to admit it, now.” You say matter of factly, your smile still there, but tight, your eyes slightly narrowed in his direction. Izuku pauses. His entire body goes stiff, everything around him going dark as he tries to process your words. After a solid minute of silence, he opens and closes his mouth once, twice, before swallowing, finally spitting his words out. 

“What? How did you…?” He trails off, finally remembering to close the door behind him as he takes a single step toward you, before stopping himself. He doesn’t want to get too close in case he’ll spook you, in case you’ve somehow set him up, in case he has to flee in seconds. It hurts to think that you’d ever betray him, but Izuku has been burned too many times. You look at him so softly though, your smile crooked as you slowly step back into your living space, inviting him in to get comfortable, like he’s always done. 

“Took me a while, but I figured it out.” You shrug, perking up when you hear the kettle going off. You patter into the kitchen on quick feet, fixing Izuku his favorite flavor of tea, as he still stands hesitantly by the door. You frown at him, pushing the mug he’s left over your house into his thick hands, before guiding him to sit on the couch. He goes along with you, although he looks more like a ghost haunting your place than he does your boyfriend at the moment. 

“The business ventures, only going out to ‘safe’ restaurants, the bruises on your knuckles, and, oh, how could I forget the big as fuck tattoo on your back?” You cock your head to him teasingly, a small smile gracing your face at the look of horror that passes over his own. 

“When did you—”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrug, guiding him to bring the mug to his lips, his movements stiff and jerky. “When were you planning on telling me this, Izuku?” You ask him, suddenly serious, your smile falling ever so slightly as you brush a curl away from his face. 

“When you inevitably got into a shootout and came to my house for me to patch you up? When some opposing yakuza member kidnapped me because he’s holding some grudge against you?” You try to laugh it off, but it comes out as strained, the gravity of the situation finally settling on your shoulders. You love him, you really do, and you understand why he didn’t tell you in the beginning. But did he not trust you enough, even now? What would have been the catalyst for him to finally be open and honest with you? When it was bordering on too late? 

“I’m sorry.” Izuku says softly, setting the mug down as he reaches forward to grab your hands in his own. He physically relaxes when you don’t flinch away from him, despite the fact that you have to know what kind of carnage he’s created with his bare hands. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him softly, letting him pull you into his chest as he exhales deeply. He goes quiet for a few moments, as he tucks you under his chin, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, wrapping his arms tight around your flank. 

“Because I love you, and I didn’t want to scare you away.” Izuku admits quietly against your head. “I know its selfish, but you’re not like anybody I’ve ever met before, and I didn’t want our time together to ever end. I’m sorry its had to come to this.”

“To what?” You ask, pulling away from him so you can look him in the eye quizzically. “Who said we were over?” 

“Huh?” Izuku asks after a few seconds of silence, his voice beamingly loud as he lets your words sink in. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you, pulling him into you so now its your turn to hold his face against your chest, your chin resting on the top of his head. 

“I’m not breaking up with you, Izuku, I already told you that. I’m just pissed that I had to put the pieces together myself. I keep you around to think for me for a reason.” You tease, pulling his face up to watch everything slowly sink in. And to think he was in charge of one of the most dangerous ‘businesses’ in all of Japan, with a face that cute and eyes that round. You can’t help the kiss that you press to the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re not breaking up with me?” Izuku repeats slowly, sitting up in your arms so that you’re eye level with him, gripping you gently by the shoulders. You frown at him, knocking your forehead softly against his own. 

“Baby, I just said that.” You mutter, laughing when he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace, pressing his mouth to yours firmly. 

“Gods, I love you.” Izuku says against your lips, pecking you again and again until he’s kissing your teeth from how hard you laugh. “How can I make it up to you?” He asks, rubbing up and down your shoulders, watching how your face melts from one of happiness to something darker, full of lust and excitement for your new reality of open honesty with him. 

“By finally letting me see you.” You whisper, leaning in to rub your nose against his, feel his shuddering breath as he inhales the intoxicating scent of you. 

“Whatever you want. I’ll give you the world, if you asked for it.” He mumbles softly, pulling you against him until you rest in his lap before rising, already taking you to the bedroom. You press a kiss against his throat, rubbing yourself against the hardness of his stomach, unable to swallow down the moan that crawls up. 

“All I’m asking for is for you to fuck me the way I know you’ve been wanting it since you met me.” You whisper sultrily, tugging at the hair on his nape, grinning against his throat at the groan that escapes him. 

“Fuck yes,” he whispers softly before devouring you before you could even blink. 

You’re on your bed in seconds, your clothes ripped from your skin in a familiar dance that you no longer question when Izuku begins to shed his own. You watch from the center of your bed as he stands before you, his eyes glued to your own gaze as he pulls his shirt from over his head with precise movement. You feel your mouth water at the sight of his exposed stomach, the ink that curls along his breastbone, red and white and intricate. 

He slides his sweats down thick thighs, even more ink decorating the skin, his cock thick and heavy where it bobs when released from its confines. He’s a work of art; gorgeously tanned skin, freckles covering more parts of him than you even thought possible, his muscles there but bulging deliciously when he flexes absentmindedly under your watchful and intent gaze. He’s gorgeous, more so than you could have ever imagined, and it makes your mouth water even more that he’s finally, finally, bared himself to you. 

“Let me touch you,” you whisper, inviting him over with a crook of your finger. Izuku obeys, crawling on the bed toward you until he’s laid against your pillows, his body elongated and exposed like a statue made of some greater god. You can only salivate at the sight of him, press a kiss to his mouth until you work your way down, down, down with nips and licks, your teeth sharp and stinging, your tongue soothing and gentle. Izuku breathes a shaky moan of your name when you finally make your way to his thick cock, heavy and red at the tip, leaking precum with every breath you pass against it. 

You hold his thickness in your palm, kissing the leaking head with soft lips, making him groan underneath his breath. He can only watch you, carding a hand through your hair until he cups the base of your skull, guiding his cock ever so gently into your mouth. You welcome him in, lips pursed to suck the precum from his leaking tip, mouth suckled tight over the thickness of him. He fills your mouth perfectly, your head slowly bobbing down until his tip tickles the back of your throat. 

You moan at his taste, one hand holding his base as you work your spit where your mouth can’t reach, the other hand reaching up to cradle his heavy balls in your palm. Izuku’s hips jerk at that with a groan, his head tilting back, although he refuses to take his eyes off of you. The way your naked body fits so seamlessly against his inked one, how the fatness of his cock creates a lewd bulge against your cheek, how your eyes water when you try to swallow him even deeper. 

You pop off of his cock with a breath, jerking him using the mixture of your saliva and his precum, ducking your head underneath his heavy length to lap at his sac. Izuku’s stomach caves in from his gasp, his eyes rolling momentarily into his head as he jerks his hips, before he finds it in himself to meet your gaze again. You smile around the fullness of one of his balls in your mouth, the other hand jerking his cock in slow, languid motions. 

“Wanna cum inside you,” Izuku says in a gasp, tugging at your head to pull you off of him. You come off with a wet pop, crawling up his body with his firm yet gently grip on your skull, smiling when he drops open his mouth when you meet him. You fill his mouth with your spit and his precum, a moan bubbling up in his throat as he presses you against him, kissing you with such fervor that you feel like you’re being consumed whole. Izuku grinds his cock against the bottom half of your stomach, pulling you tight against him as he rolls the both of you to your sides. 

Without breaking away from your kiss, Izuku hikes your leg over his hip until he’s slotted perfectly between you, gliding his cock between your soft lips. He presses in, pushing and pushing as you gasp and whine into his mouth, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as he holds you firm against him, your bodies slotted perfectly together. With a heavy thrust does Izuku finally bury the fullness of his cock inside of you, his pubes brushing against your clit, his thick hand resting on your lower back to keep you pressed against him. 

“You never said you loved me back earlier,” he says softly against your mouth, lazily kissing you as you trace the scars on his back and shoulders. You grin against him, rolling your hips ever so slightly, gasping when Izuku can’t help the cant of his hips to press his cock even deeper inside of your slick hole. 

“I love you,” you whisper, tongue lolling against his own as Izuku slowly starts to rock his hips against you, filling you up over and over again until the bed creaks minutely. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

Izuku only rubs your clit with thick fingers as you repeat yourself, tucking your face into his throat as you tremble all over, reaching your climax before you can even process it. Izuku only keeps the same pace, never letting you fully come down from your high as he holds you so tight to him, that your skin melds with his own, that your sins become his, that your flesh is one. And when he cums inside of you with a shaky gasp, your walls fluttering around him from another orgasm, does he finally release the breath he’s been holding since the moment he realized he loved you. Which, frankly, was the moment he first laid eyes on you. 

thank you all for reading! and a special thanks to @katsukikitten for supporting me so much over these past few years. likes/comments/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! <3

[cherry-coffees]

Marriage of Convenience!Caitlyn headcanons

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who does not want to get married - much less to someone she doesn’t know or have feelings for. so when Cassandra introduces you to her for the first time, all she knows is that you’re from some noble house in Noxus and she resents you. It’s not your fault, she knows, but it’s so much easier to have someone to blame for her unhappiness.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who watches Cassandra talk to your mother in silent rage, who watches you smile politely and just go along with this. this just makes her resent you even more because why are you so okay with it?

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who (very reluctantly) attends the ball in celebration of your engagement. no one know it’s arranged - everyone in Piltover thinks that a Piltovian and Noxian fell in love and oh how wonderful it is that these star-crossed lovers will bring peace and an alliance between the two regions! Caitlyn wants to scream the truth at them all until her lungs burn. but her mother would kill her, so she just stands there with a fake smile, blue gaze icy.

marriage of convenience!Caitlyn who eventually ducks out of the main ballroom and onto a secluded balcony, seeking some relief from the constant attention of the crowd, only to find that you’re already there. frustration runs through her veins, a scowl automatically gracing her sharp features because why can’t she just have a single moment alone? but her expression morphs into one of surprise when she takes in your posture: leaning against the balcony railing in your gown, your head low and your body almost crumpled — defeated.

Caitlyn can’t help but hesitate, straightening out her Commander uniform she had insisted upon wearing. She doesn’t know whether to intrude or leave you be. But, she supposes, you will be married soon. 

So she breaks the silence, stepping forward to lean on the railing beside you. “Why aren’t you in the ballroom?”

“Why aren’t you?” You counter, not bothering to meet her eyes. You stare ahead, looking out at all of Piltover all lit up at night. 

Caitlyn can’t stop the scoff that escapes her. “Too much attention for something I don’t want.”

You bob your head once, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Makes two of us.”

“Are you kidding?” Caitlyn’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing and turning her body to fully face you. “You seem to be quite content going along with everything your parents want.”

“Yeah, well,” you exhale, your breath coming out as a puff in the cold night air. Caitlyn notices this, gaze darting to the gooseflesh that prickles on your bare arms. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it. It’s better to go along and make the best of it. If I’m going to be married to you, I don’t want to hate each other.”

Caitlyn blinks, slightly taken aback. “I-“ she pauses, considering your words. “I don’t hate you.”

“Seems like it.”

“I don't,” she insists, and you finally turn your head so your eyes lock with hers. “Look-“ Caitlyn holds your gaze, a twinge of respect stirring within her. “If my parents had to marry me off to someone, I’m glad it’s you. I know we just met, but you’re very respectful, and you seem kind. I like that.” She hesitates again, eyes flicking down over your body for a split-second. “And you’re undeniably pretty.”

“Uh- thank you." You blink, wide-eyed at the unexpected compliment, a pink hue dusting your cheeks. You can't deny that being called pretty in that posh accent of hers makes you a little flustered. But you push past it, shaking your head to clear your mind and continuing. "You’re right: we don’t know each other. But since we’re getting married, I’d like to, if you’ll allow it.”

And for the first time since Cassandra broke the news to her about this marriage, Caitlyn lets herself give you a half-smile. “Yeah,” she nods, a hint of interest in her eyes. “I’d like that.”

I have loose plans to write a full fic of this so!!! Stay tuned and lmk if you have any ideas/things you'd like to see with this <333

Reminder that my asks are open!

[trustmypoison]

Ateez finding out that you're pregnant

Requested? Yes!

Request: Hi! <3 I loved your ATEEZ reaction with a low maintenance partner! I was wondering if I could make a request? Either: How each member prefers to sleep with you at night/whether they like to be held or do the holding/etc. I did see the sleeping positions one but I figured this one was different enough. If not that's totally fine!! Otherwise, maybe a pregnancy one, I saw the ones planned for svt and I'd love to see ateez. tysm!! <3’

TW/CW: pregnancy and baby talk. Skip if you aren’t into that. 

Hongjoong

The picture of totally put together. There will be only a split second of shock before he’s holding you tight and telling you how happy he is about the news. If you were nervous about the news (which I think most people are at least a little), he’s putting your mind at ease immediately. No, it’s not too soon. No, he’s not worried about the group or the company. Yes, he can’t wait to start a family. 

Seonghwa

Stunned silence. You actually think you might have broken him. Once he starts talking, it’s one half-finished question only to be interrupted by another half-finished question, but you get the picture so you explain that you realized you were late and took a test. If the shock goes on so long that you feel like this whole thing is going down the drain, he’ll snap out of it to assure you he’s thrilled, he might just need some time to wrap his head around it. 

Yunho

He had a sneaking suspicion when you got a ‘stomach bug’. He doesn’t say anything right away and you’d be too busy being sick to care. So he simply takes you to the doctor. He’s totally silent when you stammer that you don’t need to take a test and the doctor assures you it’s just to eliminate potential causes. When the doctor announces your results, he’s already braced for the shock and handles it far more gracefully than you do. Please, he’d be such a steady partner, change my mind. 

Yeosang

When you tell him, he just smiles and nods. You ask if he has anything to say and he smiles and says no. This sort of questioning goes on until you really aren’t convinced he even heard you. You don’t feel good and this is a tough topic if only because it’s a surprise, and the whole thing makes you impatient. “Are you even listening? I said I’m pregnant!” The frustration will double when he just smiles and says, “I know. At least I suspected.” He pulls you in for a hug as you rage, “Then why didn’t you tell me??? I didn’t know!!!” Irritatingly calm in the face of such news. 

San

The gentlest of guys and you can’t convince me otherwise. After like the third bout of illness in one morning, he puts you back to bed and very carefully brings up the possibility. He hates the panic that flashes across your face at the mere mention of it and he decides now is a great time to tell you that he’d love it if you were expecting. It puts your mind at ease and the conversation is a slow buildup to you finally asking him to get the tests. Super sweet and supportive even before the tests are purchased. 

Mingi

Panic. I could leave it at that but I guess I won’t. He does not know what to do with this information and might not handle it gracefully. He hates that he can see how nervous and upset you are but I envision he’d need to step away. Imagine him going to an older member in crisis mode. Also, imagine Hongjoong blowing up because he just left you like that without any comfort. After some careful coaching, his older members will demand he go and make things right. When he calms down and thinks of the future, he likes it, but a big change like that is scary. 

Wooyoung

He just shows up with a couple of tests and demands that you take it. It’s so perplexing that you’re kind of waiting for the punchline (because he always has one). But he really doesn’t have one now and he’s very serious. Now, that doesn’t mean he’s not a smart ass!! He’ll say something like, “You’ve been biting my head off for weeks, you keep gagging at the food I make, and you missed your period last month. Take it so I know how offended to be.” He’s joking on that last bit because of how pale you get at the implication. He’s thrilled about the news, but he’s equally thrilled to know that you don’t just hate him!! 

Jongho 

Overjoyed. Like there’s not even a moment of shock. The way he holds you close and tells you how happy he is in an instant really smashes any doubts you might have had. Totally doting immediately. I’m serious, do not move, do not pick anything up, do not try to do anything for yourself. I think normally he would not baby his partner quite so much, but he’d do a complete 180 with this news. Prepare to be coddled for at least 9 months, or maybe forever, idk. 

[rhiannonsknife]

hii!! i know you are busy with the but im a cheerleader nat fic, but do you think you might maybe write more for Lottie?

also thoughts on meangirl Lottie.. i feel like when she first meets someone she can be a little guarded, wanting to keep her image so when you call her out on her bs she feels attacked and then starts a rivalry between the two.. anyways to summarise meanlottie tension with the new girl on the team when Lottie takes it too far and says something really mean at a party and new girl storms off but Lottie finds her and shows her how much she DOESNT hate her because shes actually a softie but she kind of treats new girl as a punching bag bc shes new and called her out

Im genuinely so sorry if this doesnt make sense i am so bad at explaining but i have a vision i swear😔

🫎 anon :)

i love this idea so much 🫎 anon!! hopefully i got your vision here!!

lottie matthews, you should’ve realized sooner, is untouchable.

at least, that’s how she wants people to perceive her.

everyone on the team knows better than to test lottie; even jackie, the whs’ golden girl in her own right, lets her have her moments.

you, on the other hand? you’re new. maybe that’s why you didn’t seem to get the memo right from the beginning.

it starts small enough: a subtle jab at practice, a teasing remark about your form, the kind of thing that could be dismissed as playful banter if not for the smug tone in lottie’s voice. and then there are the looks: the way her dark eyes flick over you during drills, sizing you up for reasons you can’t seem to wrap your head around.

it doesn’t take long for you to call her out.

“got something to say, matthews?” you ask one day, sharp enough to draw a few surprised glances from your teammates.

for a second, lottie looks genuinely caught off guard. and then her mask slips back into place, her lips curving into that insufferably confident smile. “i’m just looking out for the team,” she says. “can’t have the new girl slowing us down.”

from that moment on, it’s war between you.

lottie calls you out for each fumbled pass in practice. in the locker room, she’s leaning against the row of lockers closest to yours, waiting for you to pass to call out a snarky comment. and even during team meetings, when you make a suggestion about changing up a play, lottie scoffs. “sure,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “let’s just toss out what’s been working because you think you know better!”

things only reach a breaking point weeks later, at one of the parties.

you don’t even remember what starts it: some offhand comment about your outfit, maybe, or the way you’ve been talking to nat a little too long for lottie’s liking. either way, her words hit harder this time, meaner than usual.

“god, you’re so desperate to fit in,” she says suddenly “it’s pathetic!”

the words land like a slap, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

for a second, all you can do is stare at her, your chest tight and your pulse pounding in your ears. lottie doesn’t look away. she stands her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.

nat shifts beside you, clearly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t intervene. no one does.

you don’t trust yourself to speak, not when your voice feels like it might crack and give her the satisfaction she’s so clearly looking for. instead, you turn on your heel and push through the crowd, ignoring the whispers as you walk out.

lottie finds you a little while later, sitting on the back steps of the house with your head in your hands. you don’t hear her approach until she’s right beside you and says: “i shouldn’t have said that,”

you flinch, whipping around to face her. “what do you want, lottie?” you snap. “haven’t you done enough for one night?”

her usually upright posture falters as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her gaze flicking between you and the ground. “i didn’t mean it,” lottie says, quieter this time. “i just…i don’t know.” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “you get under my skin!”

you let out a bitter laugh. “glad i could be of service then”

“that’s not-” lottie cuts herself off. “i’m not good at this, okay? you called me out, and i didn’t know how to deal with it, so i pushed back. too hard. i know that.”

when you look up, you’re surprised to see something raw in her expression. regret.

“i don’t hate you,” she says finally, her voice soft but insistent. “i don’t even think i dislike you, if i’m being honest. i just…i don’t know how to handle you!”

before you can respond, lottie crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. “you’re not pathetic,” she murmurs. “far from it. and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you were!”

you’re unsure how to process the vulnerability she’s laying bare. this isn’t the untouchable, put-together lottie you’ve come to know. this is someone softer, someone who’s trying, even if she doesn’t quite know how.

lottie seems to take your lack of an answer as a bad sign, her lips pressing into a thin line. “let me make it up to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

[atleastpleasetelephone]

NYMPHO ELVIS.

A/N: Hilariously, according to the dictionary nymphomania only refers to excessive sexual desire in a woman. That seems kinda sexist to me, since it suggests any about of sexual desire in a man is perfectly normal. So I'm disregarding the dictionary 🤣

Also, someone else asked me for nympho BDE (all in caps, I wonder if you are the same anon?) and I'm not going to write both I'm afraid. I think BDE would be too tired to be sex-obsessed, he'd rather curl up in his jammies.

One more time

Pairing: 1969!Elvis x reader

Word count: 714

TWs: Overstimulation, praise kink, reader has been/is crying, general smut, Elvis refers to himself as Daddy. Also Elvis is sex-obsessed, if that wasn't already clear.

“C’mon baby, jus’ one more,” Elvis pleads, his head still between your legs. 

You’re sweating, moaning, exhausted on the bed. “I c-can’t El… I’m… oh…” 

You’re not making sense anymore, either. He’s trying to coax a fourth orgasm out of you but your body is wrecked. Your pussy is puffy and sore and every time he touches you now the combination of pleasure and overstimulation threatens to cut your brain completely free of its moorings. 

“Yes ya can. C’mon. You’re my good girl.”

Whining, you twist your body away from him but he’s not having it, pressing your belly down firmly with one big hand whilst he abuses your clit with the other. He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. He’s like a vampire, desperate to feed on your pleasure. He’s already cum twice and he can feel himself getting hard again just watching you like this. He’s smeared your lipstick across your face with his sloppy kisses, your hair is a mess and your mascara is running down your cheeks with the tears that slide down them. 

“‘S too much, El. Please.”

He can’t help it. He just wants you too much, all the time. He starts to wonder about pushing his half-hard dick inside you again when he hears your breath hitch and looks at your face to see your eyes widening in surprise. 

“Oh, God!” You exclaim, as another orgasm hits you. You didn’t think it was possible, but he is determined. 

His mouth curls into a grin. “I told ya you could, baby.”

Lying down beside you, he cups your cheek gently in his hand. “Good girl. Now let’s have one more for Daddy.”

Your surprised eyes are back as he takes your hand and wraps it around his dick. It hardens a little more in your firm grip, but you’re not sure you can make him cum again. You thought men only came once and then fell asleep. But Elvis is clearly different. 

As you move your hand on him, gathering pace, it’s his turn to feel the complicated interaction of pleasure and pain, overstimulation and soreness threatening to override any kind of pleasant feelings now. But he wants it. He wants another. He’s sure he can do it. 

“El, you want me to stop?” You ask after several minutes. He’s still half-hard and his breathing is irregular, but he doesn’t seem any closer than he did before. 

His eyes had been squeezed shut in concentration, trying desperately to will another orgasm out of himself, but now they spring open again and stare at you. 

“If I wanted ya ta stop honey, I’d say.” He takes your other hand and moves it to his balls. “Here. Squeeze.”

You do as you’re told, squeezing as you carry on jerking him, watching his face contort with a mixture of pleasure and something else entirely. Being with Elvis is exhausting. He wants you all the time. It’s gratifying and exciting, but sometimes you’re sore and you want to just cuddle. He never shows any signs of wanting to rest, and you’re sure that he’s with other girls too. You can’t quite understand how one man can have such an insane libido. 

“Shit,” he mutters, his hand wrapping around yours to help you squeeze his shaft more tightly and move on him more quickly. “Yes… yes… ohhhh… keep goin’ honey, Daddy’s almost there.”

There’s not much chance of you stopping, since he’s got such a strong grip on your hand, but you nod and take the opportunity to press lazy kisses to his skin as his moans get more insistent. 

“Oh yeah… that’s it honey…” 

He lets go of your hand as a tiny amount of cum leaks out of the head, flopping back on the bed in exhaustion. Until a few seconds ago it seemed like he’d been contracting every single muscle in his body as he tried with all his might to orgasm again. It’s a relief to stop, though the feeling of ecstasy is so addicting. 

You curl your body around his, and kiss his shoulder. 

“Feel good, Daddy?” You ask, sweetly. 

He smiles back at you sleepily. “Real good honey.” You relax, thinking about sleeping soon, and then you hear him speak again. “For now…”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2 @18lkpeters

[naomiiiiz]

I’m reading a fanfiction where Agent Stone is unofficially indirectly technically but also definitely adopted by the Wachowski Family and now I cannot unsee it.

For some context, the family is trying to figure out how to get Shadow to come to them without forcing him or making him feel pressured or unwanted, and Agent Stone gets involved.

Maddie invites him to dinner, and what I thought was going to be the best overprotective sons defending their loyal and powerful and loving family banter turned into the crackiest family dinner with an unexpecting, slightly grief ridden and emotionally stunted Agent Stone, desperately trying to wrap his head around the three aliens that have been kicking his ass for who knows how long being in a normal family???

With human parents???

Who like, house them and feed them and love them and teach them and nurture them???

And like, do stuff normal parents do in a normal family???

I’ve never felt so estatic since that one time the author my favorite MHA fantasy AU fanfic that got discontinued posted the endings and notes she had for the rest of the fanfiction.

EXAMPLE WITH DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE CHAPTER:

Tails: “Break started on Saturday. One of us can go with him, Mom! Make sure he stays sitting!”

Stone: “Break?”

Maddie: “Fall break. From school.”

Stone: “They go to school, too?”

Tails, rolling his eyes: “If you’re going to be surprised by every normal thing we do with our family, we’re going to be here all night.”

I read the chapter during my Sociology 100 lecture and had to stop many times to keep from laughing.

Stones astonishment at a normal, stable, healthy, albeit non-traditional family, Sonic being Sonic, Knuckles being Knuckles, Tails continuing to be the national treasure that he is, and Maddie and Tom being the patient, understanding parents that we’ve always seen them be.

You can’t buy joy like this. You can only find it on AO3, from people (mostly children, college students, or working class adults) who either have too much time or no time at all and yet somehow still get to share their genius with the entire world.

Reading this shit felt like getting the found family trope injected into my veins through IVF fluid.

Here’s a DIRECT QUOTE from my favorite part of the newest chapter:

Knuckles: “There will never be a truce, and I will never think of you as anything more than a small, weak man with questionable taste in partners.”

*literally like three fucking minutes later, after Knuckles has been fed a well cooked meal from Agent Stone*

Knuckles: “You are a very important and powerful man, and I apologize for what I said before. Mister Robot did not deserve you!”

Agent Stone, who’s probably sweating in three different places and pinching himself to keep from reacting too harshly, and experiencing the worst whiplash of his life: “Um, thanks?”

To Humanity’s_Humbag and Invader_Sam, who are the authors, I commend and thank you for your service to the Sonic Fandom. May the wicked curses of the Ao3 Fanfiction Author always evade you!

[emsdevs]

The Return

Bear and Bug 🐻🐞

a/n: surprise!! kirby talked me into splitting this part up, so you all get one more part of the main conflict after this!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you arrived at Cole’s place, and he’s been trying everything under the sun to get you to return to the lake house with him. Today, after getting out of bed, you find out he’s pulled out the big guns. When you walk into the living room, you’re met with not only Cole but also Trevor and Alex. Apparently, Cole had filled them in on the situation, and they changed their flights to Montreal to come help. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad. I know for a fact Jack misses you,” Trevor is currently trying to encourage you to come with them, your packed suitcase sitting beside him. At some point during the night, they had snuck into your room and packed your bags, leaving you with no “good” excuse not to go with them.

“You talked to him?” your head shoots toward Trevor, hope filling your eyes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“...No,” he looks toward the ground as he speaks, “but! I know Jack, and I know he’s probably falling apart at the seams if you two haven’t talked in three weeks. You’re his person. He’s probably dying right now.”

“Oh, great. I’m killing my best friend! This is exactly what I was worried about when Quinn and I got together. He’s been having such a tough time, and I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.”

“You’re right. She is being dramatic,” Alex whispers to Cole before stepping forward to try to comfort you. “Look, sweetheart, the only way to make this any better is to bite the bullet. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep running away from it.”

You were silent for a moment, shocked by the wisdom from Alex. After gathering your thoughts, you spoke, “You’re right. Let me go be sure you all got everything, and then we can head out.”

“No way that worked,” Cole couldn’t believe their plan worked in their favor.

“Bro, when did you become a shrink?”

~~

The tension at the lake house was higher than ever. Ellen and Jim had given up on trying to help their sons work out their issues, so they drove back home for a while, letting the boys stew in their anger. The boys had done nothing except that. Quinn and Luke silently shared an alliance while Jack either ignored them completely or began picking fights. 

“Hope you two are ready to go running back to your precious Bug,” Jack told the other two boys as he walked to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“What do you mean?” Luke answered, sass written all over his question.

“Trev just texted me. He, Alex, and Cole just boarded their flight. With Bug.”

“She’s coming back?” Quinn couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He didn’t care how Jack felt anymore. He was miserable, and he needed his Bug. 

“Don’t get all excited. That doesn’t mean she’s getting back together with you,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you think she’s coming back for you,” Luke doesn’t even attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“She’s my best friend, Lukey. Of course, she’s coming back to get in my good graces.” 

“Are you kidding me? Look at how you’ve been treating her, Jack! We’re all lucky she’s even coming back at all!” Quinn is angry now. You’ve probably been hurting more than he has for the past three weeks, and Jack is acting all high and mighty like you’ll come crawling back to him. As far as Quinn is concerned, you don’t need to come crawling back to anybody. If anything, the three of them owe you an apology.

“Of course, you’re sticking up for her! God, she has you wrapped around her finger! You’re so whipped you can’t see that she’s the problem here!”

“No, you don’t get to do that. You know Quinn is right. You’ve been horrible to her, and she deserves an apology. From all of us, honestly. Jesus, I mean, she even put you’re feelings above her happiness. She and Quinn could have been so happy, but you were complaining about how horrible the NHL is every night, so her main concern was protecting you. Mind you, you are not one of the two people in that relationship, so the fact she took your feelings about it into account at all is a kind of grace that you obviously don’t deserve. Why don’t you get down from your high horse and think about everything Bug has done for you? Then, you can tell us if she’s the one that needs to apologize or not,” Luke doesn’t give Jack time to answer, walking off as soon as he finishes his speech. Quinn doesn’t hesitate in following, only giving Jack a sharp look before making his way to your room once again. He found Luke already there, so they sat on your bed together, putting on a movie and soon falling asleep.

Jack, now alone in the living room, takes the time to do as Luke said. He thought back to when he knew you’d be his best friend forever. You two had silently agreed to have separate friend groups at school, but when you saw Jack’s friends had left him alone one day at lunch, you left your friends to go sit with him. They stopped talking to you after that, but you were fine with it because you had Jack. He thought about everything you had sacrificed for him, even skipping out on joining an afterschool club because it would conflict with some of his game times. How many times had you put Jack first, even when you could’ve had something really good for you if you had put yourself first? He could think of at least one: Quinn. He’s a horrible best friend. 

Jack lost track of how long he sat there, losing himself in his thoughts that were slowly becoming more and more self-deprecating, but before he knew it, he heard the front door opening. Moments later, he jumps to his feet when he sees you walk into the living area.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hey.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6

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[brandyoxo]

(nsfw, sugar daddy levi! X sugar baby reader)

(Reader is a teasing slut hhhhh)

You’ve known Levi since the third month you came to LA to study for a master’s degree.

At that time, you still did part time job and tried to afford part of the fee by yourself, reliving the burden on your parents.

Fortunately, you met Levi.

Yes, fortunately.

Since then, it’s been 3 years. He helps you a lot, in finance, in life, sometimes you think he’s like your mentor or benefactor….except the truth that you two will fuck.

At first, it’s more like a routine, and you would be the one that mentioned you could give him a head or let him relive his need on you.

But now, don’t know if it’s because this relationship lasts longer than you two thought, it’s kind of….casual now.

Like exactly now, he picked you up after you finished your work, and you teased his thigh by your left hand.

Levi frowns and side eyes you.

You chuckle, “What?”

“Take your hand off me.”

You shrug and take your hand off me, which lets Levi sighs in relief. But as the moment your hand leaves, two hands unbutton your own skirt.

Levi scoffs, “Shit, don’t do anything stupid.”

“What? I’m busy these days, and we haven’t seen since two weeks ago ! Pleasing myself is normal.”

You say as you put your legs on the front of the seat, spread it open and use fingers to tease your throbbing clit.

Levi almost wants to close his eyes.

“That’s dangerous…..”

You smile and take one of his hand, use his fingers and slide in yourself. Levi doesn’t protest, and he adds more fingers in your slit.

“Ahhh…it feels so good….”

Levi pushes his fingers in and out, but his gaze is still paying attention to the front. “How’s your work going? Looks like you’re under lots of pressure.”

You let him pumps in you faster, and you throw your head back and moaning.

“Ahhh….not good tho….oh…shit….deeper…ahh…”

“What’s going on?”

Levi’s fingers move faster and deeper, you fidget on the seat, while your toes start curling.

“Fuck….ahhh…..ahhh…”

Levi presses your clit by his thumb, and you reach the peak and pant.

“Oh my god…..”

Levi pulls his fingers out. “Tissues.”

You side eye him and pout. “Am I that dirty?”

“Yes, you are,” Levi looks at you when the last red light which just in front of his house flashes. “So only I can fix you.”

You smile to his words, and you pick up your skirt, while he’s parking.

Both of you get used to each other, you think. But you two still stay the sugar daddy and baby relationship, which means he will still pay you money for sex.

But somehow you don’t like that.

Yes, being with Levi is fortunate. But falling in love with him is unfortunate.

He’s an excellent person. You won’t look down on yourself, but the truth is he’s too good.

Tonight you want to talk about this with him. Either ending this relationship, or……you want to date him officially.

“Have you eaten?” Levi asks you when he unlock the door.

“Oh…” you rub your belly.

“Haven’t?” Levi holds the door for you, “What do you want to eat, spaghetti?”

“Ok, thank you.” You reply.

Levi takes off his coat, he usually wears suit and tie, and he will pull off his tie, and the buttons on his chest will be unbuttoned, which looks very sexy.

You look at him, a muscular man is heaven to you.

He starts making food, and you sit on the kitchen island behind him.

When he turns around to get the ingredients, you spread your thigh open and pull him between.

His hand still on the ingredient beside you, although his eyes can’t take off from your face.

You lower your head to kiss him, he releases the ingredients and pulls you closer, pressing your head.

His tongue takes away the breath in your chest, his teeth nips your lower lips. You can’t breathe, and he moves his lips to your neck, leaving open-lips kiss on it.

“Let me cook for you, alright?”

He looks at you. You pout to him.

“I…..I have something to tell you, before you do this sweet thing for me.”

Levi surprises a bit.

“What? You want to buy something?”

“No…” you roll your eyes. “I….i just want to end this kind of…relationship?”

Levi freezes. But his hands are still on your thigh and head.

“I’m sorry, but I break the rules.” You continue, “I fall in love with you. But you can’t blame me for this, you’re too damn attractive —“

“But you want to end this now?” Levi says.

You can’t stop the heart beating.

“Yes. But I want to ask something else from you…” you look at him, “….what if we date officially?I mean, if you don’t want that’s okay, after all you’re brilliant,you totally deserve better than me —“

He cuts you off by crashing to your lips. The impact makes you fall behind, and he pulls you beneath him, kisses you intensely that you can’t even think.

Levi parts your thighs apart, and his unbuttons your skirt again, throwing that away.

His hand squeezes the inner side of your thigh.

You pant and whine in his mouth.

Levi let’s go of your mouth.

“I’m glad you’re the one who brings this up.”

His eyes get darker. “I don’t have that fucking gut to ask you about this.”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

He nuzzles his face in your neck, murmuring, “Doesn’t matter.”

You cup his face and grin. “You love me too?”

Levi’s hand slowly pulls your panties down. His gaze is full of lust and need now. “I’m so into you.”

You smile a little after he said that.

You grasp his muscular arm that stay on the counter, “Levi…..don’t cook now, cook later.”

Levi nips your jawline, “I am not in that mood now when you stay like this.”

You laugh and wrap your legs around his waist. Levi uses on hand unbelt his pants, his gaze still locks on you, you stick your tongue out and lick your lower lips.

He can feel his dick get harder, it hurts.

If you don’t stop him, he has to bare this pain and cook your dinner, even has to wait for you finishing dinner, then he could fuck you.

But now, it’s getting simple.

“Missionary? Backshot ?” You take off your upper clothes and use his hand to play with your tits.

You didn’t get the answer. Levi holds your hips and thrusts into you with no hesitation.

You moan. “Oh…daddy always likes to fuck in missionary first….”

Levi lowers his body and kisses you. Your moan is swallowed by him, as his pace gets faster and deeper into you, you push his chest.

“Ahhh….fuck….”

He pulls his hips back slightly before slamming forward again, stretching you wider around his thick dick.

“Look at me.”

He demands, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulls you onto his lap, forcing himself even deeper inside you.

You open your eyes and bite your lips, your cute little tits up and down because of the movements.

“Yes…yes…”

“……this pussy is made for me, hmm?” His hips piston in and out, hitting places inside you that make you moan out. He's too big, too thick. He can feel your innocence tearing, your pussy struggling to adjust to his size. “Damn it...”

You start to roll your hip.

His eyes widen as you start to move your hips, meeting his thrusts. “Oh, fuck...” He picks up the pace, his thick length sliding in and out of your tight hole.

Your hips move faster, taking him deeper. He grabs your hips harder, slamming into you. The ingredients fall to the ground loudly.

You can’t stop moaning and feeling the pleasure building in your lower belly.

He hits your deepest spot, making your body jolt.

“Oh fuck…Levi….”

A dark, pleased smile spreads across his face. He starts to pound into you mercilessly, his thick cock stretching and filling you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen. He leans over you, his muscular body caging you in.

“My little doll, your hole only gets wet because of me,” He reaches under you, cupping your ass and squeezing hard. “It’s been how many…shit…how many years? You still….fuck….so fucking tight….still belong to me.”

You can’t answer him, your hands grasp the rim of the counter. You’re moaning with sobbing because of the pleasure.

He spreads your cheeks wider, his thick length pushing deeper inside you. He can feel you getting closer, your little body tensing up.

He growls in your ear, “Look at me, baby. I want to see your face when you finally break and come on my dick.”

You open your watery eyes, meeting his gray eyes, “Oh…fuck…I’m cumming….babe…oh…you fuck me so well…”

He spreads your legs wider, hitting deeper. He sees your small body tighten again. He knows you're close. He adds two thick fingers to your clit, rubbing hard.

You arch your back with moan.

His fingers move faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in tight circles. He pins your lower back down with his other hand, hitting that spot inside you again and again.

“Holy….”

Your body convulses, your small frame shaking as you finally lose control. You scream in ecstasy, your pussy clamping down on his thick cock as you cum.

You almost see the heaven at that time.

Levi groans and pulls himself out and release on your tits.

He leans down and hugs you in his arms tightly.

You two can’t cool down from that pleasure in a moment.

He kisses your sweaty neck.

“I’ll cook dinner for you later.”

[em-harlsnow]

He’s got Joey on the phone in one ear, telling him they need him and whoever he can bring now, while he’s trying to shove on his hoodie and shoes on the same time.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get Mickey, think he’s free.”

“‘Kay, come quick.”

“Yeah, you just fuckin’ said.”

Iggy hangs up, shoving the flip phone into the pocket of his jeans and zipping up the hoodie. His struggles with his shoes for a few minutes longer, getting frustrated and nearly tripping. Eventually, though he’s ready to go and he’s already managed to stumble halfway to what is now Mickey’s room.

He bangs on it with his fist, rapping twice on the wood. Iggy’s learnt his lesson from last time.

“Yeah?” Ian’s voice sounds through the thin door.

Iggy didn’t want Ian, he wanted Mickey… but maybe Ian could work. Surely even a Gallagher can cope with a little drug run. Mickey won’t mind, if anything he’d be happy. Iggy guesses he would be, anyway, since doing drug runs is basically a Milkovich right of passage. If Ian wants to be a part of their family, he’s going to have to do at least one. He needs to get on with it, too, if he wants Iggy’s respect.

Cautiously, because he’s still scarred, Iggy swings the door open by a foot to poke his head in the door.

He opens his mouth to ask Ian where Mickey is, and if he would like to come on the run instead, but he’s interrupted by the sight of his brother sleeping soundly beside Ian. They’re not exactly cuddled up or any gay shit like that, but what Iggy sees is enough to startle. His brother - Mr. I’ll Kill You If You Touch Me - has a firm grip on Ian’s arm, like Ian’s a balloon that could float away into space. Iggy’s never seen him touch anyone willingly. He’s disgusted if Iggy so much as brushes past him too closely, yet now he’s holding onto Ian like he’d be upset if he wasn’t touching him.

Iggy hones in on the contact, unable to take his eyes off of the place where Mickey’s tattooed hand is clasping Ian’s arm. He can see silver scars shining in the light from the window, circular scars on Mickey’s hand. Iggy remembers when he got them. He’s got a matching set. They feel more like matching sibling tattoos than the knuckle tats.

It’s because of those scars, the story behind them, that Iggy hates people smoking around him. More specifically, waving lit cigarettes or joints around that are clasped between loose fingers. Smoking is one thing. Iggy has more tobacco and weed in his lungs than oxygen. It’s when people aren’t careful - and most people aren’t - that stresses Iggy out. He doesn’t like it. Mickey doesn’t like it either.

Ian’s smoking. Iggy doesn’t think he’ll drop the cigarette, but he’s not being careful. He’s smoking the way most people do; casually. If Iggy were as close to Ian as Mickey is, he’d be stressed. Mickey’s not stressed. Mickey’s sleeping. Mickey’s trusting him. Mickey isn’t worried about getting burnt by the cigarette in his hand. Mickey hardly trusts his own hands not to fuck him over, never mind another person.

Iggy can’t stop thinking about Mickey’s hand on Ian’s bicep, his restful, calm face and Ian’s cigarette.

“What?” Ian prods, reminding him of his rush.

“Uh-“ Iggy stutters, looking between Ian’s expecting face and Mickey’s comfortable sleep. “Yeah. I’m goin’ on a run with Joey. You up for it?” He won’t wake Mickey up. Not because he looks happy or anything, Iggy isn’t a pussy, but because Mickey’s an asshole when he’s woken up.

read the rest on ao3!!

i hope you enjoy!!

[mommyslittlebird]

Mommy needs you

Bottom!Stepmom!Wanda x Stone!Reader

After a long day of teasing, you finally decide to treat your clearly desperate stepmom, Wanda, to a reward.

CW: Stepmom/Stepdaughter, cheating, dirty talk, humiliation, blowjobs, voyeurism, mentions of bondage, Wanda has a penis. MDNI.

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: I have to go to work in like 4 hours but I was consumed with ✨thoughts✨. Writing blowjobs is so hard because it means one of your characters can’t talk 😭. I wrote this like 5 different times before I got to a version I actually liked, and still the end was a bit rushed, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

In her defense, you had been teasing her all evening. The way you’d licked the whisk clean, using the hot kitchen as an excuse to strip down to little more than just an apron, a few too many two-finger-taste-tests, giving her two of your fingers for taste tests of her own. You really couldn’t blame her.

Still, you couldn’t hold back a smirk as you sat across from her and your father at the kitchen table. Luckily, your father paid little attention to either of you as he hurriedly wolfed down his dinner in preparation for his night shift at work. He hadn’t even been downstairs for half an hour before he was throwing his coat over his shoulders.

“Alright,” he sighed in the same tone he used before he left every night. He always made it sound like he was leaving for 8 months when he’d only be gone 8 hours. You wished he’d leave for 8 months. “It’s time for me to head out.” He bent over and kissed Wanda’s forehead, which was noticeably sweatier than usually. “Get some rest, both of you!” He called before walking out the door, leaving you and your stepmother alone.

A small giggle escaped your lips as your stepmother turned to face you. She looked nothing short of pathetic, breathless as she practically humped the wooden dining chair. You stood up, circling the table to stand behind her. “Did you enjoy your dinner mommy?” you asked, nuzzling her neck while you ran your hand down the front of her pink sweater.

She bit her lip. “Mhm,” she groaned, grinding further into her chair as your lips met her neck.

“Mmm you seemed like you were enjoying it,” you teased, kissing up under her ear. “Can I get you anything else? Dessert, perhaps?”

“Please detka,” she moaned. As your hand got lower and lower, her hips started to buck up against it instead of down against the chair.

You reached between her legs, lightly tracing her bulge with the tips of your fingers. “Aww poor mommy. I bet this needy little cock can’t wait for another course can it? It must hurt so bad rubbing up against this denim, hmm?” You gently squeezed the fabric for emphasis.

“N-no. Please detka, I need you,” she stammered.

“Aww does mommy need her little girl to take care of her?” you feigned sympathy.  She nodded eagerly. “Tell me mommy. Tell me how bad you need me.” You kept massaging her through her pants.

“Please. Oh please, I’m so hard for you it hurts. Please, I need your mouth, your hands, anything please!”

“Shh mommy it’s okay. I’m gonna take good care of you. Let’s just get you to the couch, okay?”

To your surprise, Wanda didn’t protest. She stood up on shaking legs and made her way to the living room, laying out a blanket before sitting down. You followed close behind her, heart racing as she wordlessly followed your directions. You could see the desperation in her green eyes. How could you not give her exactly what she wanted?

You stroked her hair out of her face, meeting her gaze. “I’m going to take such good care of you, mommy. Just lay down. Just like that.” You guided her head down on to a couple pillows you had grabbed.

She was already in the process of kicking out of her jeans to reveal a lacy pair of pink panties: one’s she had stolen from you. Her dick was straining uncomfortably against the fabric, leaking precum from the tip that threatened to escape through the leg hole. “Aww mommy, you’ve made a mess of my panties. It’s okay. I’ll forgive you just ‘cause they look so pretty on you. Do you wear my panties when you play with yourself?”

Wanda’s whole face reddened. She did, and you knew that after catching her late one evening with her cock and a light blue thong in her hand. The thought that she got off to the thought of you even when you weren’t around sent a shot of pleasure between your own legs. She nodded bashfully.

“That’s very naughty of you, mommy. Getting yourself off to the thought of your little girl’s pussy,” you teasingly scolded. “Maybe for that you deserve to have these little panties shoved in your mouth, hmm?” You chuckled darkly, toying with the waistband. “Maybe we’ll save those for later, when your pretty little brain can’t come up with any more words.”

You pulled the fabric down, smirking as her already twitching cock sprung out. You were practically salivating at the way a thin trail of precum dripped down from the tip like melted wax from a candle.  “Mommy you have the prettiest little cock in the whole entire world,” you started, kissing a trail up her shaft. When you got to the top you opened your mouth wider, allowing the tip to creep in past your lips. You moaned at her taste.

She groaned and allowed her head to roll back. It was a gorgeous sight, the way her hips arched away from the sofa to force her further down your throat. You greedily accepted every inch, bobbing your head so far down the tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes rolled back as you took her down to hilt, reaching your hand up to fondle her balls.

“Oh that’s it sweet girl, you're making mommy feel so good. Keep going just like that.” It took all her strength to keep her head up, but the beautiful sight between her legs made it all worth it. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth detka. You’re mommy’s pretty girl.”

She thrust her hips up desperately into your mouth, causing you to gag and sputter around her. Saliva fell from your open mouth, sloppily covering her shaft. “Fuck, you’re making such pretty noises,” she whined. You pinned her hips to the sofa, mostly stilling her hips from her needing rutting. She whimpered, looking like she might cry if you stopped now.

Naturally, you stopped, lifting your head and moving to nip at her thighs.

“No! No, please!” she begged. “I’ll stay still. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You kissed her balls, sucking the skin into your mouth while stroking her shaft with your hand. “Shh,” you soothed. “You’re being all perfect and needy for me. I just need you to last a little bit longer, okay?” You rubbed her tip with the pad of your thumb, wiping away the dribbling precum.

She nodded, defeated but determined to behave. She attempted to still her hips but she couldn’t help but buck up into your hand.

You rested your head innocently on her thigh. “You're just so pathetic and desperate for me aren’t you? You need your little girl to milk your little cock for for you?” you teased. She nodded, propping herself up on her elbows.

Determined to knock her back down, you took her length back in your mouth. You closed your lips around her, sucking and licking the tip. She cried out and fell back against the pillows. Satisfied, you picked up the pace, going just as fast as you'd been going before

She wiped away the hair that clung to your sweaty forehead. She wanted to see the look in your eyes, and she was not disappointed when your blown out pupils met hers. “Keep looking at me detka. Mommy’s gonna cum for you. You want to watch mommy cum?”

You nodded eagerly. She had lasted longer than you’d expected, even though it had still been less than 10 minutes. Her hips stammered pathetically as she filled your mouth with her cum. You swallowed, determined not to miss a drop. You felt her go soft in your mouth and finally lifted your head, watching as trails of spit dripped down her cock.

“Oh you were so needy for me, weren’t you mommy? You came so fast for me.” you teased, lightly grazing her sides with your fingernails. Her body shivered in response.

“Yes, detka. Thank you, you made mommy feel so good.” She was breathless, staring open mouthed at the ceiling as she laid limp against the pillows.

“Mmm you tasted so good, mommy.” You eased her sweater up slowly, kissing a wet trail from her stomach up her chest. You took one of her nipples into your mouth, sucking and flicking fetherlight touches with your tongue.

“Mm carefully sweetheart,” she warned. “You know how sensitive mommy gets after- ah!” You cut her off with a sharp squeeze to her other nipple.

“Mommy?” you asked. “Do you think you have any more cum left for me?” You knew from experience that Wanda usually couldn’t get hard a second time in the same night, but you thought it was worth an ask anyway.

She chuckled. “No more, honey. Not tonight. Sorry you didn’t get to play with mommy for so long. That’s what you get for teasing all day.”

You whined, finding your way back to her overly sensitive nipple. “‘s okay,” you reassured. You contented yourself to keep playing with her chest, lazily circling your tongue around her skin, sucking and flicking her bud with the tip of your tongue. After a few minutes, she gently pulled you back, wincing as her abused nipple was exposed to the chill air. You moved to the other nipple, but you were stopped by Wanda pulling the sweater back down, tucking it under your head.

“Do you want mommy to play with you tonight?” she asked.

You thought for a moment. You rarely derived any pleasure from anyone touching you directly. You still let Wanda’s needy hands wander, but it was more for her pleasure than yours. If she was super good for you, sometimes you’d let her watch you masterbate. Other times you were just very loud and left the door open a little bit so she would catch you. You loved to pretend you didn’t notice her as she jerked off through the crack in the door. The thought gave you an idea. You grinned sadistically.

“I think,” you started, tracing your finger up over her sweater, “I might like to have you all tied up on my bed while I touch myself.”

She moaned at the unexpected proposal.

“Do you think you’d like that? To watch me get myself off to your pathetic body while you can do nothing but squirm around?” you asked. You watched her eyes dilate at your words. “My pervy stepmommy, watching her little girl fuck herself. I bet that’d make you all needy and desperate all over again.”

You stood up next to the couch, reaching out your hand for her to take. You helped her up. She moved to get redressed, but grabbed her wrist when she went to put her (your) panties back on, snatching them out of her hand.

“Nuh uh,” you chided. “These are going in your mouth.”

[black-wolf066]

You Tease

This is a gift for @shes-an-odd-bird because we all seem to be in a feral mood this week and I’m hoping it’ll help tame our hormones.

((This is my first ever Character/reader piece… and it’s been a very long time since I’ve written any smut, now that I think about it… so keep that in mind as you read. 😅 Also note, this is an established relationship between Billy and Reader with both being mid-twenties)).

All smut/no plot (because I can’t brain enough to think of a plot right now) so, minors do not engage.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. Language

"Have I ever told you how hot you look in my clothes?" Billy practically purred in your ear; keeping you caged between himself and the bedroom wall.

The clothing in question was his old gym shorts. You had found them laying behind the dryer when you’d moved it to clean the vent earlier that day—must have fallen back there unbeknownst to either of you. You had cleaned them, but rather than storing them away for him to find as a surprise later, you wore them instead—knowing what wearing his clothes would do to him and being utterly ecstatic that he was proving your hopes correct for how this night was going to go.

“You’ve mentioned it, yes.” You quipped back, pressing your forehead hard against the drywall as shivers of anticipation shot down your spine.

You felt the fingers of his left-hand toying with the waistband, while his other glided purposefully up your side—taking the fabric of your tank with it until he had it bunched up under your chin. You had decidedly forgone wearing a bra that morning, which meant your breasts and stomach were exposed to the chilled surface and the AC in the room; though, it did very little to counteract the heated flush of your growing excitement.

“Was wondering where these disappeared too.” He muttered as he pulled against the band and released; the elastic snapping at your hip making you jump a little. “Thought maybe they’d been tossed.”

You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying; squirming at the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear. The pleasant Goosebumps rising where the pads of his fingers continued to toy and trail feather-light against your newly exposed skin.

“I—” whatever you were going to say was lost, voice breaking off on a lengthy whine as his hips suddenly bucked roughly against you.

“What was that babe? I don’t think I caught that.” he teased playfully, knowing exactly the effect he was having on you and your sudden inability to articulate.

You would have huffed something snarky at him if you weren’t so distracted. The stimulation of his light touch, the scratchy feel of the dry wall rubbing at your sensitive nipples, the heat radiating into your back from his naked torso, and the rough grinding of his clothed stirring erection against your ass; had you dazed and breathless.

And hungry for more.

“Billy.” You managed to moan out; wiggling backward—as best you could with the little space he was giving you—to meet his grinding with a thrust of your own.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Billy.”

“What do you want?” he breathily chuckled as he finally moved away from your ear to bite and suckle at the pulse point thrumming wildly beneath it. “Use your words, babe.”

Shit, this man was going to be the death of you.

“F—” you swallowed thickly, writhing under his ministrations and the over-stimulation; feeling close to cumming then and there as you forced out, “Fuck me.”

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

He moved away just enough to unzip and drop his jeans, but not enough for you to lose your balance. Not like it stopped you from reaching up to grasp the wall for support anyways, breath hitching as you felt his fingers breach the waistband and slide the shorts down until they fell at your ankles. You kicked them away quickly before a surprised squeak escaped as you felt yourself being lifted and turned, your back now pressed against the wall as you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips.

Your tank top was the last to go before his mouth found your lips seconds later in a messy tangle of tongue and teeth; grinding his thick girth against your wet folds while your hands found their way up into his curls.

“You’re already soaked, bet I could just slide right in.” he taunted, nudging the head of his fat cock teasingly at your opening but not dipping beyond that.

If he didn’t move right now; you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

“Fuck me.” You repeated forcibly against his lips.

You tightened your ankles at his back and bounced yourself a little; impatiently hoping it would get you what you wanted faster; only for stars to dance across your vision when the head slipped and nudged up against your clit.

“And you say I’m the brat?”

“Billy.”

His huff of aroused amusement was your only warning before he shifted and thrusted shallowly into you; stretching you deliciously—and maddeningly slowly the absolute jerk.

“This what you wanted?” he questioned huskily, continuing the shallow rolling that had your toes curling. “Did you wear my shorts hoping I’d fuck you tonight?”

“Y--es!” you yelped as he nipped lightly at your earlobe.

“Oh, baby, you know all you gotta do is ask.” He chuckled. “Though, can’t say I’m opposed to the method. Did get us here—” he punctuated his point by finally—blissfully—sliding himself home inside you. “—a bit quicker.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, muffling the guttural whine that squeezed out of your lungs by biting down at the sinew there. The feeling of being speared open by Billy always dazed you, something you hoped you’d never get used too.

“Fuck,” Billy grunted out his own throaty moan at feeling your teeth.

His hips bucked involuntarily, causing your eyes to nearly roll to the back of your head as the movement pushed him just that little bit deeper. The pleasure-pain of him hitting your cervix and his pubic bone grinding just so on your clit, sent a violent spark of fireworks to burst cross your vision as you climaxed.

“Shit, shit.” He keened gruffly, probably not expecting you to orgasm as quickly as you had—for you certainly didn’t expect it either, not that you had any mind to care at the moment—as you felt your walls fluttering and squeezing all around him.

“Sh--shit.” You echoed him; feeling as though you were floating on cloud 9, body loosening and relaxing with Billy’s powerful biceps and the wall being the only thing keeping you from falling flat on your ass.

“You good?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” you nodded, and pressed your heels into the small of his back to urge him to continue. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Billy didn’t need much more prompting, his teasing long forgotten as he began to roll and thrust his hips in earnest to chase his own climax.

All you could do was try and hold on for dear life, as he pounded into you; your muscles still not quite cooperating enough to help him along.

“Damn baby, you feel so good.” The obscene wet squelching of skin on skin and the heady scent of sex filled the air as he continued his bruising pace—though you could tell he was getting close. “Think you got another one in you?”

You could feel your pleasure climbing again, your limbs finally following your silent command as you clumsily met him thrust for thrust. You didn’t trust your voice though, so you nodded and sent the next breathy moan directly into his ear, causing him to curse as his hips stuttered.

“Shit.” He moaned. “That’s my girl.”

The praise paired with the intentional grinding of his pubic bone against your clit sent you over the edge again, very nearly screaming at the intensity of the second wave that crashed into you.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s it. That’s a good girl.” He panted into your neck, snapping his hips several more times before your tight, fluttering, walls were milking him of his own orgasm.

Neither of you moved for a while, both of you fighting to catch your breath and come down from the high. The tingling sensation was beginning to subside as you buried your face in his neck; breathing in the sweaty musk of him as your limbs began to go boneless. Billy was muttering something into the skin of your own neck, but you couldn’t hear it, ears still ringing a little—though you had a feeling you knew exactly what was being muttered.

It was only when you felt Billy’s muscles beginning to strain, that you tried to get him to drop you back on your feet, but he didn’t budge. He only held on a bit tighter as he shifted your weight; your back leaving the support of the wall as he finally moved you both toward the bed.

He fell into the mattress with you still secured in his arms, but the movement caused him to finally slip out. You released an involuntary whimper at the loss of feeling full that had him chuckling at your expense.

“Hush,” you snarked and nuzzled your nose against his collarbone; feeling his fingers trail up and down your spine and relishing in the warmth and smell of the post coital bliss for as long as you could.

You were on the verge of sleep when his quiet voice pulled you back.

“Where did you find them anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“My shorts. Where did you find them?”

“Behind the dryer.” You muttered drowsily; grumbling when his chuckle jostled you.

“Did I wear you out that much?” he asked in amusement; fingers still gently following the path of your spine. You hummed in response, the call of sleep too much to ignore. “And here I thought we’d have time to go another round.”

“Hmm… wake me in an hour.”

His answering laugh followed you into your dreams.

[whatdoidosatoru]

arise, fair sun

baji keisuke/fem!reader | ao3 meeting at the bridge goes about as well as you could predict, baji can't tell you about his plans, and you can't ask him to spill. you know he has something up his sleeve though. wc: 5196 cw: shakespeare (sorry) a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff

The Shibuya-bashi footbridge was surprisingly quiet today as if reflecting the sombre mood of the boy leaning against it. His hair was a long black curtain on one side of his face, the other side uncovered thanks to a strand tucked behind his ear. 

When you spotted him, your breath hitched. His new jacket caught your eye, being a new addition to your best friend’s outfit, a white jacket with a headless angel on the back - the Valhalla uniform. His dark hair contrasted with the white of the jacket, and seeing him wear it felt… unnatural.

You walked towards him in casual clothes, not wanting to stir any tensions between the gangs, and you hadn’t even reached him when he spoke in a voice low enough that he couldn’t be overheard, but loud enough that you could understand him clearly.

“You can’t change my mind, I’m not coming back.”

You stopped a few feet from him, leaning against the same fence and looking over the traffic underneath the footbridge.

“I know.”

You just wished he would tell you what was going on. It was clear that he wasn’t honest about it, that he hadn’t left Toman for some bullshit reason like he had said. However, you weren’t going to push him like Chifuyu had asked you to. You trusted his plans, trusted that he knew what he was doing, even if you desperately wanted to be included, be by his side like the old times.

“You’re not going to ask me why I left?” He spoke bluntly, with a little trace of surprise in his voice, but his gaze stayed on the moving traffic below. There was hardly anyone on the bridge but you two, just a few people rushing to and from work, nobody paying you any mind.

You looked down at the traffic, picking out cars that honked at others to focus on something other than your heart beating so loudly. You shook your head to answer his question, knowing he could still see you in his peripheral vision since he didn’t turn his head to face you.

Baji let out a long exhale, he could tell you weren’t there to pester him to spill everything. He knew you well enough to know that he could share his pain, you had shared everything before. Even through his stupid decisions, dumb and rash moves, you had always been by his side, either pulling him out of his mess or ending up in it with him.

“Then why are you here?” he continued in a low voice, still not tearing his gaze away from the cars below.

“Wanted to see you.” Your voice was equally as low, impacted by the immense emotions fighting inside you. Sighing, you didn’t look over at him. Your thoughts were with the moving people under the bridge, with the passage of time, and the ever-changing nature of everything in this world. 

He gripped the fence of the bridge a little tighter. Despite knowing you wouldn’t be here to question and push him, he didn’t expect such an answer. I wanted to see you. Of course.

“Did you come here alone?” He spoke up after a few moments of processing your words. Finally, he looked up from the traffic and turned his head in your direction. You saw his movement from the corner of your eye and followed suit, facing him while still leaning on your palms, gripping the fence.

A simple nod answered his question. You couldn’t have known if he’d be alone or with someone, not yet sure how much Valhalla trusted him. But you were out of the Toman uniform, wearing casual shorts and a T-shirt, not a single sign of being a gang member on your clothes.

“Chifuyu is doing alright, by the way. The bruises on his face are fading.” You spoke a little more softly. He had done a number on Chifuyu to prove that his ties with Toman had been cut, but Chifuyu didn’t hold a grudge against him. He believed that Baji had a plan he simply wasn’t sharing with anyone. Baji furrowed his brows in guilt and shame, feeling awful for having to leave Toman.

“That’s… good to know.” He mumbled slightly, his voice carried a tone of relief despite the turmoil he felt inside. A flock of birds flew overhead and you lifted your head to follow their movements, the breeze from their wings lifting Baji’s and your hair, rustling it before it settled down again.

“Missed you at game night last night.” You didn’t say it to make him feel bad, though you knew inevitably it would. You needed him to know you missed him being there. You missed him being your friend, not just your division’s captain. A random person shuffled past you while talking on the phone hurriedly, getting out of earshot before Baji replied.

“I know… I miss game nights too.”

“Not the same without my Pictionary partner.”

You slid ever so slightly closer to him along the fence, bending your knee and resting it against the railing, making your stance look almost casual. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Baji.” You continued in an almost sad tone, unable to let him go on without letting him know, in your own subtle way, how much you were all worried about him, how much everyone… how much you missed him.

He let out a chuckle, but his instant grin was quickly replaced with a serious expression when you spoke. He knew better than to think you would guilt him into leaving Valhalla, you’d spent many years by each other’s side and he knew manipulation simply wasn’t your style.

“I know what I’m doing, alright?” He assured you, and maybe even tried to convince himself as well.

“Is anyone from Valhalla around?” Your question made Baji quickly look around to make sure nobody was lurking. “No, I came here alone.” He was still glancing around to make sure that, despite his lone outing to the footbridge, nobody had decided to check on him. 

“You’re staying safe?” You slid a little closer again, now standing within whispering distance from him. 

He looked over at you briefly and let out a sigh at the question. He knew you were just worried, checking on him to make sure he was alright. He nodded slightly and closed his eyes.  “As safe as I can be,” he whispered, keeping his voice low and quiet, “but I can handle myself, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I know.” Your response was immediate, though you didn’t know why he still bothered to tell you not to worry as if you hadn’t done this dance a million times before. “I know you can.” 

You slowly reached out to touch his face tenderly, brushing his cheek with your thumb. Your eyes focused on the shadows under his eyes, more prominent now than before leaving Toman.  Baji closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing slowed and he leaned into your hand, as if this gentle touch was exactly what he was craving.

“Then why do you still worry so goddamn much?” He quietly mumbled against your palm, opening his eyes and finally looking right at you. Sliding a little closer still, you looked up at him with a solemn expression, taking in the relaxed expression that clashed with his stressed-out demeanor.

“I can’t stop.” It was an honest answer, but one he either wasn’t ready to hear, or didn’t know how to act upon hearing.

“Damn, you’re such a pain.” His voice carried no annoyance, only affection despite the harsh words.

You softly chuckled before getting up on your tip-toes to get closer to his face. Your soft lips ghosted over his, barely touching at all before you got back down, pulled your hand away from his face and jokingly punched him in the shoulder for calling you a pain. You nearly gave in when his breath hitched in anticipation, but it wasn’t the time. He let out a fake grunt in pain when your closed fist collided with his shoulder, rubbing the area softly. 

“That hurts, you know…” He mumbled, faking a hurt tone. Quickly, he switched to a grin and punched you back, albeit incredibly lightly, on the shoulder.

“No, it doesn’t.” You rolled your eyes replying, slightly smirking and letting the playfulness into your tone, making Baji’s grin widen. 

“I think you bruised me.” He said through a light chuckle, rubbing his shoulder dramatically with a look of fake pain. Now, you didn't mean to feel it, but the light banter in his words kicked the air out of your lungs. It seemed so… normal, but at the same time, it obviously wasn't. Nothing about this was normal. Your jaw clenched at the light-hearted tone that he had used just like nothing had changed, though everything was different.

“I think you deserved it.” Your voice came out as a little whisper while a few tears pricked your eyes, threatening to spill and make this into a bigger deal than it was.

Of course, he picked up the sudden change in your voice, the front you had put up, the pretense that everything was fine. That your heart wasn't breaking.

His face changed into an expression of guilt. Despite believing what he was doing was necessary and right, there was a part of his life that was going to be affected regardless. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, it was clear in his voice when he finally mumbled quietly.

“I suppose I did.”

You looked down at your feet before managing to meet his gaze again.

“You know I'm always on your side, right? And so is your entire division.”

His eyes followed your gaze, meeting your eyes after looking down, as if in shame.  Baji knew you weren't trying to make him feel guilty, only to reassure him and remind him that no matter what, you'd still support him.

“Yeah… I know.” He replied after nodding slightly, letting out a long sigh.

“Then do what you need to do,” you reached up to softly touch a strand of his hair and then his cheek, “but don't hesitate to ask me for help if you need it. And come back to us afterwards… come back… to me.”

You felt his movement, leaning into the touch on his face while closing his eyes, savoring the moment of tender intimacy between you two, one that you both needed.

Both of you knew he couldn't ask for help right now, he couldn't ask the rest of his Toman division. He had to do it alone. But… hearing your words made him feel a little less alone. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was softer.

“I will. I… promise.” After hearing his words you quickly wiped a tear from the corner of your eye before it could roll off your cheek. Returning your hand into the pocket of your shorts, you forced your body into a relaxed stance and pushed yourself off the fence.

“You better. I'll be waiting.”

With that, you turn to leave, walking away with feigned nonchalance. Baji watched as you walked, noticing the slight tension in your shoulders while you did your best to act casual and not look back. His hands itched to reach out to you, call out and pull you back, but he didn’t act on it. He stayed still. He watched your figure get smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see you anymore, keeping his voice as low as possible as he whispered your name.

The next few days seemed never ending. Though Baji was being kept busy with Valhalla business, his mind often wandered, sometimes to that day on the footbridge, sometimes reminiscing about the good old days with Toman. Most of his nostalgia-induced daydreams ended up being about game nights with you, nightly conversations with you, bike rides with… you. The way you had held his face in your gentle hands that day at the bridge was driving him insane with overthinking. There was certainly a pattern there… Finally, there was hope for a day off, no bullshit tasks within Valhalla, Baji was free to do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted… was to check something.

He started walking in the direction of your house, almost in reflex to overthinking and struggling. Clearly, his mind wouldn’t shut up about how he had left things at the bridge, he tried to rationalize his thoughts, but to no avail. Just go, check on her, make sure she’s alright.

So he found himself across the clearing from your window.

Baji felt a hit of nostalgia as he remembered all the times he would sneak through that same window on the first floor just to chat the night away, wiping away your salty tears and talking your ear off about something random just to make you smile again.

He walked through the clearing, stopping just several feet away from the window, observing your seemingly relaxed state as you sat on the windowsill and let your damp hair dry. He suddenly felt the extent of how much he had missed you. Your game nights, your laughs, your movie marathons…

As you sat on the windowsill of your bedroom, you tried distracting yourself from thinking about Baji. The book you had picked up to try and read was lying on the floor, face-down, long forgotten. Your mind was switching from one memory to another, reminiscing the days when you’d message Baji if you got into a fight with your parents or had a generally shitty day and he’d immediately come over, spending the night sitting on this very same windowsill and talking until the sun came up, getting no sleep, but giggling deep into the night.

Reminiscing the days when he would invite you over to his place, when his mom would ask you to make him do things he had been too lazy to do (“why the hell would i clean my room when it’s gonna get messy again anyway?”) or beg you to make him study for tests and do projects due the following week. It had always been a losing battle, but you could appreciate the fact that she thought you had any sway in his head.

Snapping out of your daydreaming and looking down to where he stood, at first you thought you imagined him standing there, but he had his signature grin on, there was no way your mind could replicate that so perfectly.

You opened the window fully, poking your head out.

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” You recited in an overdramatic tone, sporting a smirk in amusement despite the circumstances.

Baji chuckled when he recognized the reference, shaking his head slightly while preparing to climb up to the window like before. He sat down on the windowsill, looking at you and returning your smirk.

“I suppose that makes you Juliet then?” His tone made your sly smirk turn into a smile.

“I suppose so.” You replied almost instantly, missing the easy banter you once kept constantly.

“What, not very happy to have Romeo here?” He teased when you didn’t run into his arms like you would before. You eyed the Valhalla jacket that he wore, your heart clenching at the sight of it worn so casually, so… openly.

Your smile slightly faltered as you sat together, the tragic comparison with the fictional characters suddenly glaringly obvious and fucking sad.

“You do remember how they ended up, right?” Your point hit home, but he waved it off. Baji clearly didn’t want to think about the story, instead finding slight amusement in the way he, once again, climbed through the window like some kind of hero, saving the damsel in distress. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t ruin it.” He said with a lighthearted scoff.

“If I remember correctly,” you started with a light smirk again, “when we covered that play in school, your words were something along the lines of… ‘well maybe they should have communicated better and not been idiots’.”

He let out a genuine laugh, the nostalgia about the school days bringing out the humor of his words.

“Yeah, that was it. And I stand by it, they were idiots.”

“So have you come here to communicate, Baji?” You pulled your leg up on the windowsill, folding it under yourself at the same time that he leaned his head back against the wall as you faced each other.

“I have… I think.”

Baji’s fingers seemed to twitch, as if itching to touch you as he folded them on his knees in an attempt to appear casual. He paused for a moment, savoring the silence that had settled between you, though he had questions on the tip of his tongue, all of them scrambling over each other to be let out first. Instead of asking how you were doing, if you were alright, how things were… he was just silent, paralyzed.

“You been okay?” You broke the silence in a soft voice for him.

His eyes betrayed the look of relief that you had spoken first, alleviating his stress of having to initiate. Despite that, his brown eyes reflected sadness. Guilt that he hadn't reached out first. I should've asked her first, I was the one who left.

“Yeah, I'm… I'm fine.” There was an unsaid as fine as I can be in his response. 

“Kept busy?” You smiled as you asked, relieved that at least he wasn’t… hurt physically. As far as you could see.

“Yeah, that's an understatement.” He chuckled through the reply, a humorless noise, an attempt at lessening the severity of the circumstances.

In truth, he had been busy most of the week, mostly because Valhalla was trying to use him for anything they could. It wasn't every day you got a highly capable first division captain of a rival gang to join you, they would've been stupid not to use the situation.

“I'm not gonna ask more about it, I know you can't tell me…” You followed up quickly, making sure he knew that you still didn't expect him to divulge his plans, that you understood his need for secrecy.

Baji nodded, a part of him wanted to confide in you… needed the comfort of another person, his best friend, telling him it would be okay and he was right to make those choices. He quickly changed his tone to a more light-hearted one, nudging you with his foot.

“I would tell you if I could, you know that.”

“I know.” You responded in a soft voice before looking down to where he nudged you as you played with a strand of your damp hair. “How’s your mom? And Peke J?”

His lips curled into a little smile, it had been a while since he talked about his mom and the cat.

“They're both doing fine. They're good,” he paused a little before adding, as if contemplating whether or not to say anything more, “my mom says she misses you.”

You smiled through the pang of guilt, though it wasn't exactly your fault that you hadn't visited.

“I miss her too, miss Peke J’s loud ass meowing as well.” You missed spending time at his place, sneaking into his bedroom, playing with Peke J and giving him catnip stuffed toys while his mom made you coffee and sandwiches. It was sometimes eerie how similar his mom and he looked, but it was heartwarming to see he was Ryoko’s son through and through.

He, too, remembered the good times at his place, you two, his mom, and the cat. Some of his favorite moments. 

“Yeah, he's as noisy as ever, I swear he's yelling louder every damn day.”

“I wouldn't be surprised, actually. He's probably part hyena or something.”

Your heart soared when Baji snorted with laughter, the closest it came to the way things had been before. 

“I'd believe that. Little bastard wakes me up every morning with his yowls.” With a brush of his hand through his long hair, he sighed.

It became so easy laughing again, sitting on the windowsill with him, your legs touching as you escape reality for a while.

“Can you please take that off?” You pointed at his Valhalla jacket, the only visual reminder of the harsh reality, the only thing that ruined your daydreaming of simpler times.

Baji tried to keep things light-hearted for a bit longer, playfully scoffing and raising his eyebrow at the request though in his eyes it was evident he noticed your somewhat sad tone.

“You want me to strip for you, is that it?” There was no other way he could have expected you to react apart from a roll of your eyes and a click of your tongue.

“Don't want a Valhalla member in my bedroom… just want to see my Baji…”

My Baji.

The words made his chest feel a little tighter and his heart started hammering. He didn't want to be just a Valhalla member to you, didn't want to be anyone else other than… your Baji. He took a deep breath and slid the jacket off his shoulders, unceremoniously dropping it on the bedroom floor. Once the jacket came off, he was back to being a regular guy, clad in a regular t-shirt and regular jeans, the thing you liked seeing him wear the most, other than his Toman uniform.

“Thank you, Kei.” You didn't use his first name too often as most of your other friends just called him Baji, but sometimes… when the mood was just right, when he was more than just Baji, he was Keisuke. Kei. Now he was finally your Keisuke again. 

No gang, no defection, no bullshit.

It didn't seem like he understood what a big deal it was for you, seeing him like that with an aura of normalcy instead of wearing that damn thing until you called him by his first name again, reminding him of the connection you’d always had. Baji shifted slightly, his foot sliding a little closer to yours, touching the side of your ankle. He was silent for a moment, as if reminding himself that he was still him.

“I'm still the same person.”

“I know,” you leaned forward, reaching up to his face and cupping his cheek gently, just like you had done at the footbridge, “just don't need to see that damn symbol.”

Your touch was so gentle and careful, as if holding something precious in your hands, it made him instinctively lean into your palm again, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh. He finally seemed to understand that seeing him in that jacket reminded you of the stupid goddamn situation you were in, of the fact that he shouldn't have even come here.

“I never wanted it to be like this.” He admitted quietly.

“I know, I get it,” your thumb just slightly brushed against his cheek, “that's why I'm not asking you to tell me your plans… or to include me, though I really want you to. I trust you.”

His throat tensed as he swallowed thickly at your words. 

“You shouldn't trust me so easily.”

“Think it was easy?” You let out a surprised laugh, short and sweet.

He lifted one black eyebrow in surprise, taken aback at the reply, as if he expected you to tell him you’d always trust him, that it was easy because it was him. 

“You sayin’ it’s not easy trusting me?” Curiosity got the better of him.

“I’m saying,” you pinch his cheek lightly for a brief moment, “that it wasn’t easy to get to know you back then. But once I knew you… really knew you, I knew I could trust you.”

He hummed softly before nodding, remembering how he kept away from most people at school, not really taking to friendships easily. But once you’d got through to him and befriended him, you became inseparable. His body leaned in once again, resting against your warm palm in a subconscious search for comfort.

“Guess you’re just too stubborn, huh?” He teased.

A slight breeze through the open window ruffled over you as you sat facing him, crossing your legs over his on the windowsill.

“Good thing you love me stubborn.”

His hands rested on your thighs, a small smile gracing his face as he marveled at how soft your skin was and how warm it felt under his palms. It felt good being close to you like this again, even if only for a little while, even if it could hurt even more once the moment was done and back to being in Valhalla, having no ties to Toman, no ties to you. For now, he was just relishing the moment, and in the moment he let out a half-playful, half-serious scoff.

“Hmph, more like unfortunate.”

“Oh yeah, very unfortunate to have someone by your side whatever the weather, right? Poor you.” You chuckled, tempted to smack his cheek.

“Oh absolutely, it’s truly a struggle living with the burden of your unwavering support and loyalty.” Baji grinned and patted your thigh playfully, finally relaxing fully in the familiar banter, this is how it’s supposed to be.

“And yet you always come back for more… masochist.” You retorted, soaking up all the smiles on his face, the way his lips curled and showed the sharp points of his teeth was so familiar, so cheekily and deeply him. It was obvious he was enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment, a brief respite from the weight put on his shoulders since joining Valhalla.

“Oh you have no idea. Nothing gets me off more than being around your stubborn ass.” His hand squeezed the flesh of your thigh gently, in a slow motion, as if reminding you (and himself) that he was still here, and this was real. You rested your forehead against his shoulder, sliding your body closer to him.

“Knew it, you can’t keep away from my stubborn ass.”

Baji smiled. You lifted your gaze to catch his eyes, skin crinkled around them as it always did whenever he let himself show a big grin, his sharp canines on full display. 

Oh, how you loved it when he smiled. 

The sight of it made your face soften even more, as if caught off guard by such a sincere reaction, as simple as a smile. 

He didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he turned his head to the side to look at you better. He held your gaze, drinking in your closeness, the way you looked at him like he mattered. Like he had a place in this world. 

Oh, how he loved it when you looked at him like that. 

Both, suddenly and slowly at the same time, you lifted your head and stretched your neck to ghost your lips over his again, just like the other day on the bridge. They barely touched before you pulled back slightly, not even trusting yourself to take a breath before returning to a safe distance from his lips. 

Baji wanted to grab you, pull you closer, and kiss you until you were both gasping for air. He wanted to remember this moment, to store the memory of your touch in his mind. He didn’t act though, letting you pull back slightly before he spoke in a low voice.

“Unfair…”

Your voice comes out more strained than intended, as if struggling to find the strength to squeeze them through your teeth. “I will kiss thy lips.Haply some poison yet doth hang on themTo make me die with a restorative” You barely made it through the last line before quickly, afraid you would chicken out, closing the distance between your lips and softly kissing him.

He kissed back almost immediately, almost like he was about to lean in and kiss you himself had you not acted first. His mind was clear of everything apart from you. All his focus was on this blissful moment, hanging in the balance between the outside and the inside, between past and future. Between you and him.

The kiss soon became more desperate, Baji couldn’t help himself, his lips took more, pulled sounds from your lips, swallowing them hungrily. He moved his hand from your thigh to cup the back of your neck, greedily pulling you even closer to him. Deepening the kiss, brushing his tongue against your lips, he sought to taste you.

Desperate for more contact, you shifted to settle on his lap, pressing yourself against him and placing your suddenly restless hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in even more, closer, never enough. You kissed him like he was an oasis in the middle of a desert, like you were dying of thirst and he was sweet nectar. 

Once the kiss was broken, you search his eyes for anything resembling regret, anything that could break your heart as it lay out in the open. Your quick-flitting eyes made you focus on his breathing, analyzing every molecule of the tension between you. 

If there was one thing he was sure of, it was this – Baji Keisuke could never regret kissing you.

“I missed you every day you weren’t here.” Your voice was raw and quiet, but the proximity made it unnecessary to speak any louder, the warmth in your voice was enough to make his heart ache. Baji’s hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin before he responded in a soft voice.

“I missed you too. More than you know.”

They always said that learning stupid old dramas and literature was pointless. But you had a blueprint for a tragedy that you could avoid. You couldn’t bear to think of the similarities with tragic heroes. Star-crossed, doomed from the start. Instead, your heart thrummed with a different melody, rebellious, hell-bent on overcoming this bullshit, to hell with Valhalla and these grand schemes. You would fight and emerge victorious.

You kissed again, and again, lips gently meshing together in a slow dance, taking all the time you could steal from the universe, carving out a space and time for yourselves where you could exist in a bubble with no real-life consequences.

Baji’s eyes fluttered as your lips left his to continue their gentle affections across his jaw, down to where it met his neck. Your lips parted to press soft kisses and you let out little moans at the incredible feeling of finally having his sensitive skin under your lips like this. It was addicting.

It was nearly dangerous. He shouldn’t have even been here, but he was. Holding you in his lap, sitting on your windowsill with his hands resting on your ass, pressing you against his body that was going completely pliant as you traced your lips across his neck, down to his shoulder and back up to his jaw. That damn Valhalla jacket stayed forgotten on your bedroom floor, completely unwanted and irrelevant in this perfect moment, isolated from the rest of the world. 

And all he could think about was how to hold you even closer, closer, closer.

thank you so much, @just-one-more-beer for lending me your eyes and brain to beta-read it months ago <3

[soelstress]

A Cornucopia for You!

Ransom Drysdale; miscommunication; omegaverse; fluff

🍟🥤🍔🍟🥤🍔🍟🥤🍔🍟🥤🍔🍟🥤🍔

Ransom had no idea when the town started to get so wild. Maybe it had always been, but now he was old enough to see it. Mature enough to be observant, and to know what he wanted. And right now, that was some dang good fries from the diner on Main Street.

The thing was, anywhere that was a common date spot was always packed, full of courting alphas and omegas all over each other, searching for their true mates. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in them, but right now he was more focused on a good meal than finding his lifelong partner, which is why maybe it was good to hang out in the part of the restaurant reserved for betas who wanted to eat alone, without all of the mate pressure. But if his mate were there, they’d be able to sniff him out easily without the scent blockers he’d made sure to take, just to get to sit peacefully in the hole in the wall joint.

The beta section was much more crowded than usual today. He supposed the rain painting the windows was good enough reason for others to be wanting the same comforts as him. Ransom sat down at the counter and placed his order, feeling fine, until he began to look around, opening up his senses to the diner. The smell of hot fryer oil and bitter coffee usually hit his nose a little harder, but it was like there was something else trying to undermine it today. Before he even could investigate, though, a pair of wide eyes on the stool next to him caught his attention: you, snacking on a basket of fries and sipping a milkshake as you stared at him.

He was tall, shoulders broad under a sweater that looked unbelievably comfortable. You blinked in surprise when his eyes wouldn’t leave yours, but something about this man entranced you. And by the looks of it, he was pretty drawn in, too. Your mouth went dry and your senses went into overload. Hopefully your scent blockers were working properly, lest you make the stranger next to you more uncomfortable with the whirlwind of emotions that seemed to be taking over you, but all they really boiled down to was want.

Before you could think better, your mouth blurted, “big build for a beta.”

His terrifyingly straight face morphed into a smile, and you could’ve sworn you’d heard something between a rumble and a purr emerge from his chest before he laughed.

“And you smell sweet for one.” You thought you would’ve been able to control yourself better, but at the compliment, a chirp burst from your lips.

The man’s eyes grew wide and suddenly the realization hit you both like a train. Neither of you were betas, and this seemed like much, much more than an interaction from strangers. Pulling up the sleeves of his sweater, he signaled for his food to be put in a to-go box and leaned down so his lips brushed your ear.

“I can’t believe it’s really you, omega. Let me take you somewhere nice and private so we can figure out everything about…this.”

🍟🥤🍔🍟🥤🍔🥤🍟🍔🥤🍟🍔🥤🍟🍔

Mature enough to be observant, and to know what he wanted. And right now, that was some dang good fries from the diner on Main Street.

Dagnabit I want some fries, one of my comfort junk foods!

right now he was more focused on a good meal than finding his lifelong partner

This man has got his priorities in order 🤣

Before you could think better, your mouth blurted, “big build for a beta.”

If I’m suddenly face to face with this tall, sweater clad, cosy looking blue eyed buff babe I’d probably either faint or swoon or make a total fool of myself in comparison!

His terrifyingly straight face morphed into a smile, and you could’ve sworn you’d heard something between a rumble and a purr emerge from his chest before he laughed.

Ok… yeah I was melting and now I’m goo. 🫠

“I can’t believe it’s really you, omega. Let me take you somewhere nice and private so we can figure out everything about…this.”

ESSIE!! 😍🥹 I’m absolutely blown away with this. I LOVE soft Ransom and I’m a sucker for the omegaverse. Thank you so much for this!

[sunshines-through]

I don’t trust you

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AHHH I'm so happy youre back to writing! I felt like the Rottmnt tickle community was dying there.

Been dying for a lee! Mikey Ler! Big bros fic.

~ 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗… ~

❤️💜🐢💙🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💜🐢💙🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷, 𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 🥲💔⁉️ 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂??? 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝙸’𝙼 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝🩷💝💕˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟼𝟹𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛’s: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊). 𝙱𝚞𝚝…𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!) 

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @pocky-dragon

@danineedshelp @jamiesgotchu @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @mythica0 @titters-and-tingles

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲!!! 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶!!! 

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐/‘𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐’ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 (😵)!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢…𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 😅…

𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙶𝚄𝚈𝚂 𝙸’𝙼 𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝟶:𝟷𝟿– 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙽𝚈 🕺🏾✨ 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“MOVE YOU’RE HIPS, MIKEY!!!” Donnie yelled at his orange cladded younger brother. 

“I’M TRYING!!!” The box turtle yelled back, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M SHAKIRA?!”

“WELL, YOU’RE HIPS DEFINITELY DO LIE BECAUSE I SEE NO FUCKING MOVEMENT!” The elder yelled in return which earned a loud snort of amusement from Leo in the peanut gallery; the slider enjoying the chaos and banter between Mikey and Donnie. 

It was a nice Saturday evening and the four brother’s spent the day just…casually hanging out, for no exact reason in particular. The brother’s just truly wanted to chill (for today…).

They did karaoke, binged movies, and y’know…just chilled. That’s what Summer was about: relaxation. 

Well…they were relaxed.

Until their nerdy scientist brother found a TikTok video that he quote on quote ‘Had to learn to get with the trendy trends for his likey likes.’

His words, not mine.

And so, he dragged Mikey into it because the dance required about two people (and Donnie wasn’t trying to make it seem like he was lonely). But sadly and not surprisingly, the young scientist has been trying to teach the youngest the choreography for about…3 hours.

3 hours. 

Let that sit with you for a second. Let that marinate. 

And let’s just say…Donnie’s patience wasn’t exactly the best. Especially when it came to dance. Plus, this dance wasn’t even hard! All that was required to do was move your hips and do dramatic hand movements like some stereotypical blonde ordering an overcomplicated Starbucks order!

In conclusion: not hard at all! 

And Donnie knew he wasn’t raised with a piece of cardboard! Mikey knew how to dance…!

…To an extent, anyway…

“It’s not my fault I’m stiff!” The youngest whined which only caused the second oldest to simply scoff, rolling his eyes with sass, “Well it’s gotta be someone’s fault.”

“It’s probably Draxum’s.” The slider suggested. 

“I concur. It is probably Draxum’s fault.” Donnie agreed, “Anyway, stiff or not stiff, I need you to learn how to do this dance.” The box turtle groaned again at the comment, “Why me though? Why can’t you just do it with Leo or something???”

“Me and Leo already learned the dance!” The softshell huffed proudly, “We learned, practiced and recorded it all yesterday.” 

“Twin type shit.” The second youngest added on, sending Donnie finger-guns. 

“Twin type shit.” The purple loving turtle amusedly agreed, not doing the same hand movement but just doing an awkward thumbs up which Leo couldn’t help but giggle to. 

Raph, who was sitting next to Leo on the couch scratched the top of his head a bit, pondering slightly. “Why don’t you try doing a different dance?” The eldest suggested, “Y'know…maybe one that doesn’trequire so much hip movement…?”

“Like The TikTok Rizz Party dance!” Leonardo happily suggested, standing up excitedly which only earned hard glares from all of his brothers. The second youngest rolled his eyes at the looks, putting a hand on his hip, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You gotta admit: it’s simple to learn.”

“It’s not a dance— it’s a freaking demon ritual.” The snapping turtle deadpanned. 

“Same difference...” Leonardo huffed, sitting back down next to his older brother. Raph sighed impatiently, rubbing his temples like a single Mom that worked two jobs (sorry not sorry for that reference), “I’m too young for all of this bullshit…”

“Raph!” The youngest suddenly wailed, “Aren’t I moving my hips???” Mikey whined impatiently, demonstrating the dance which got a small stifled giggle from Leo. The leader in blue got up, covering his mouth to try and stop himself from laughing as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

The eldest turtle grimaced, trying to hold back his laughter as well, “You’re…You’re moving something…” 

“He’s moving his fucking chest and shoulders…” Donnie explained, “Which are nowhere near your hips.” 

“Again: The Tik Tok Rizz Party is still an option.” Leonardo happily said as he went back to the lounge area and started to do the quote on quote ‘Tik Tok Rizz Party’ dance. The purple loving teen inwardly cringed as he watched his slightly younger brother’s antics, sighing sadly as he covered his face. 

Of all the individuals he had to be twins with…

“Sit your hyperactive ADHD ass down.” Raph demanded as he grabbed Leo’s shell with his hand, forcing him to sit back down.

“Anyways. Angel, I want you to move with your hips!” The softshell emphasized again, going behind Mikey and squeezing his hips to demonstrate how and when the youngest was supposed to move them (since the box turtle was apparently having an issue separating his chest from his hips).

Y'know, stiff people problems. Something Donnie couldn’t possibly relate to nor understand. 

“EEP-!!!”The youngest suddenly squealed, his face morphing to one of giddy panic, “D-Deehee! Noho stahahap!”

“I am helping you with your atrocious dancing, you buffon! Now stay still!” The second oldest huffed, squeezing the shortest turtle’s hips again. 

“You’re 'helping' tihihickles!” Mikey complained, holding onto his scientist brother’s wrists in a small attempt to stop him. Which didn’t…obviously. But it was worth a shot. An A for effort some might call it. 

Donnie tried to stifle his giggles, raising a confused brow, “Oho, my helping tickles, now does it? How is that even possible, my dear younger brother?” 

“Wahait w-wahahait dohohon’t— *squeal* nahahaha!” Mikey laughed, throwing his head back on Donnie’s shoulder as his knees gave out, trying to retreat unto the floor but his older brother only followed him as he did so.

“Don’t? Don’t what~?” The second oldest turtle asked incocently, scribbling his fingers against the other’s sides. The box turtle curled in on himself on the carpeted floor, kicking his legs back and forth. 

Donnie snickered, “Dude, I’m genuinely asking! What do you mean 'don’t'~?” 

Michelangelo just hugged his middles as he squirmed and screeched, giggling his small little heart out as his older brother tickled him. The young scientist sighed dramatically, sitting on the youngest’s legs as he stopped tickling him for a moment. 

“Hey, guys?” Donatello said as he turned to the red and blue duo sitting on the couch, “I miiiiight need some help over here. I’m feeling ignored by this one— he’s not answering me.” He deadpanned as he jabbed the turtle below him in the side, causing the youngest to sound like a overpowered drill screwdriver fusion. 

“Say less.” Raph grinned, going over to the PB&J duo as Leo quickly followed right behind. 

Okay…well, this hang-out-with-your-brothers-just-because-you-can hangout was turning left veryquickly. Perhaps that’s what Mikey gets due to the fact that he was spinning left and Donnie was spinning right…

Even though the purple banded turtle told him numerous times to turn the other direction, the youngest didn’t feel like listening. I guess he now knows how the second oldest feels when Mikey doesn’t pay attention to his 4 hour yap sessions.

As one smart, tooootally not demented 21 year old said: Karma’s a bitch. 

The box turtle squealed loudly as his other brother’s approached next to him and sat down. The youngest immediately retracted into his shell as panicky giggles from him echoed around the lair. 

The three older brother’s collectively groaned, knowing they’ve alllll danced this dance before. “Ugh…I hate when he does that…” Leo complained dramatically as he crossed his arms across his plastron. Raphael cracked his knuckles, his grin widening, “Don’t worry, boys. I got this.” The red banded turtle put the Mikey in his lap, blowing a raspberry directly on the youngest’s stomach. 

The reaction was almost like the speed of light as the orange banded turtle immediately erupted into loud mouse cackles, trying to wriggle his way out of his older brother’s iron grip although now that he was caught in the lion’s den…his attempts of escaping were now futile.  

“WHAHA— *squeak*?! NAHAHA?!?! *Squeak* RAPH RAPH RAHAHAPH!!!” Michelangelo giggly sputtered out, his laugh raising a pitch as Raphael refused to take any breath’s on the raspberry and just continued and continued. 

And Mikey knew Raph. For heaven’s sakes, that was his brother. The paint loving turtle knew (definitely NOT from experience) that Raph would not take a break unless the orange banded got out of his shell. 

“WHYHYHYHY???” The orange banded turtle cackled, his limbs and head coming out of his shell as he tried to glare at his brothers, which they all couldn’t help but awe to. “Awe, there you are~! Now this is definitely a fair fight!” The gentle giant happily exclaimed, removing his head from Mikey’s stomach. 

“ThIHIs ihis ahan ahamBUHUSH!!!” 

“Same difference.” Leo shrugged, squeezing the box turtle’s ankles repeatedly. “NAHAT THEHE FEEHEEHEET!!!” The orange banded turtle cried, kicking his legs around to try and make Leo dislodge his grip on his ankle. “Jeeheez…I didn’t eheven doohoo anything yehet!” The slider commented smugly.

“Guess it tickles that bad, huh, Mikester~?” The blue banded turtle teased. 

“BEEHEE QUIHIHIET YOHOU AHAHASS!!!”

Leo dramatically gasped at the rebuttal, gently pulling his little brother’s toes back and scribbling his fingers all over his arch. “That is no way to talk to your beloved older brother!” The slider lightly scolded. Donnie, who was next to Mikey nodded in agreement, his fingers pinching all over his littlest brother’s ribs, “I think someone needs to be taught a lesson…” 

“NOHOHAHAH! IHI DAHA— *squeak* DOHOHON’T!!!” The box turtle protested, swatting his hands on Raph’s arm like a drunk jellyfish. “And hitting too?!” The blue banded teen announced, “Your reeeeallyasking for it…” 

Raphael raised a hand, wiggling his fingers near Mikey’s neck. The turtle in question paled, “NAHAT THEHE NEHEHECK!!! YOHOU GUHUYS IHI ACTUALLY CAHAN’T DOOHOO THIHIHIS PLEHEHEASE—“

“Your neck? Oh, what a great idea!” Donnie smiled sweetly, one of his hands dancing around the right side of the fake dancer’s neck as Raph dipped his head in the other side. “IIIII…gitchie gitchie gotchu~!” The gentle-giant teased, rubbing his face back and forth in the crook of the youngest’s neck. 

Mikey let out the most inhuman screech to ever exist in between his cackles, shaking his head and scrunching his shoulders desperately, “LEHEHET MEEHEE GOHOHAHAHA!!!” He squeaked. 

“WHYHYHY MEEHEEHEE?!?!” The box turtle whined despreatley through his laughs, unable to do anything but just lay in Raph’s lap and just take the tickles at this point in time. 

Speaking of, WHY was he getting tickled by his big brothers in the first place again??? What the hell did he even DO to deserve this torment? They all just basicslly jumped him as if he had money on him or something!!!

And for the record: Mikey in fact did not. This time at least. 

He borrowed some cash from April last week but immediately put it inside of his piggy bank the second he got home. Since he knew either one of his greedy grubby hand brother’s would snatch that cash cash money cash cash right away…

But…wait.

What was Mikey pondering about again???

“Because you’re the youngest.”The blue loving teen simply said, “Aaaaand we just gotta tickle the heck out of you ‘cuz you’re just so cute~!” Leo cooed playfully, his hands squeezing and prodding at Mikey’s knees. 

“Not too much now, Leo. You’re a baby brother too.” Donnie commented smugly. “By two seconds!!!” The blue banded turtle pouted, glaring at the soft-shell. The soft-shell in question chuckled at the angry face expression, kneading Mikey’s hips mercilessly. “Two seconds that makes you the second youngest. And a baby brother.” He taunted, grinning at the annoyed look that his younger twin was giving him. 

“What are you guys going on about? You’re all baby brothers.” Raph exclaimed.

“So are you!” Leo huffed, “April exists, y’know!”

“GUHUHUHUYS!!!” The youngest screamed, trying to get his siblings attention as they bickered. “Hm? What’s wrong, little bro? Did the Tickle Monster find a bad spot~?” Raph asked, now blowing raspberries at the orange banded turtle’s neck. 

“YOHOU— *squeal* FAHACK!!! GOHOH AWAHAHAY!!!” The box turtle screamed. Leo rolled his eyes fondly, scoffing lightly, “You love this so don’t even, Miguel.” 

“Why should we go away~?” The eldest fake pouted, tickling Mikey under his chin lightly, “Is this a bad spot~? Is that why? Yeah~? Awe, what a shame…” 

“PLEHEHEASE BEEHEE QUIHIHI— *squeak*!!!” The youngest bellowed, “STAHAHA— STAHA—!!! PLEHEHEASE AHANHTHING BUHUHUT THAHAHAT!!!”Mikey purely went into silent cackles, happy tears falling down his face as tiny mouse squeaks followed. “IHIHI *squeal* SURRENDER!! GUHUYS PLEHEHEASE *squeal* I’M *squeal* GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!!!”

The three brother’s removed their tickling hands, ceasing their attack as the youngest wheezed out remaining laughs breathlessly, “Ihi cahan’t breeheeathe…”

“Considering the fact that you are talking right now (which requires you to breathe), I think you’ll be fine.” Donnie commented, handing Mikey a glass of water which the youngest basically snatched and chugged in 2 seconds flat.

Freaking heathen…

“Did we go too far?” Leo dramatically gasped, going over and taking the orange banded teen from the eldest’s lap, squeezing Mikey in a hug and looking him over like he was a random exotic species specimen. “You're not dead...right? Oh man, Dad will literally kill me if I accidentally killed you…wait. That would make me the youngest. Oh well, I never wanted a younger brother anyway...”

“Hey hehey hehehey! Slow your freaking role! Ihi aham nohot dead!” The box turtle giggled, raising a brow at his immediate older brother’s antics. The slider sighed mockingly, “Had all my hopes up for nothing…” 

The smallest turtle rolled his eyes at the comment before having a moment of realization, “Whahat were weehee eheven doing agahain…?” Mikey giggly asked, resting his head against Leo’s shoulder as the slider rubbed his carapace. “Teaching you to dance.” Donnie sighed sadly, “But, alas, some things were just not meant to be.” 

Mikey glared playfully before landing his eyes on his scientist brother’s phone that was leaning up on one of the tables. “Dee! You were recording???” The box turtle screeched, hiding his face in his shell as the others laughed. “Don records everything, little bro. With or without his phone. So either way you were gonna end up being recorded.” Raph explained teasingly. 

“You never know, Mikejandro, maybe you’ll blow up on Tik Tok!” Leo suggested, “I’d call it: The Disgruntled Demise of a Box Turtle.” 

“Talk about word vomit…” The scientist mumbled under his breath, going to where his phone stood as his siblings bickered in the background. The soft-shell replayed some of the footage as he muted the video, smiling softly (get it? Soft-shell, smiling softly? I’m so funny you guys…) at the shenanigans that unfolded not too long ago. 

The second oldest chuckled softly (still get it?) to himself, putting his phone in his sweatshirt pocket as he went back to where his brother’s were sitting. 

“…Do you guys think I can fit 5 s’mores in my mouth?” Mikey suddenly asked. 

“Michael…please don’t do that. You could choke.” Donnie shuddered.

“Plus, you’re being a coward.” Leo added, “Try 10.” 

“I think 15 is better.” Raph grinned, “But it’s okay if you can’t do it. No one could ever beat Raph’s 25 s’mores record...” The red banded teen huffed out proudly. 

“…it’s ‘cuz you’re fucking rotund, man. No one would or could beat you even if we hired a whole football team to go up against you.” The art loving teen said. 

Raphael blinked confused, “Ro-tuh-wha—?” 

“He’s calling you fat.” Donnie giggly explained. 

Raph’s jaw comically opened wide in awe, hitting his littlest brother’s shoulder, “RAPH IS NOT FAT!!!” He shouted defensively. 

“Whatever you say, Jupiter…” Mikey retorted almost immediately as the twins completely lost it, the three smaller turtles soon descending into loud contagious cackles. The red banded turtle crossed his arms, glaring at them profusely, “You all are my 13th reason…” The eldest grumbled miserably, despite the soft small smile clearly evident on his face. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)