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plantdonutwrites · 9 months

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i stole this from @redstringraven, for funsies!~

bree 🐝🎨🌟

five random facts: 01. the first thing bree ever learned to cook was french toast, which she learned to make at nine years old. 02. she dreams of refurbishing a yellow school bus into a home that she can live in and drive around everywhere. 03. her dream jobs other than being an artist include: being a beekeeper, an art director, and a kindergarten teacher. 04. she is a collector of countless things: pressed flowers, postcards, trading cards, rocks... the list is truly endless. 05. her art style is at times cartoon-y and at times semi-realistic, and her "specialty" is drawing and painting mundane environments with something whimsical or magical about them, i.e. small, personified forest flora living in mushroom houses, ducklings swimming in a kitchen sink-turned-pond... so on.

favorite food: banana bread, chicken nuggets, tamales, & veggie chili.

least fav food: potato salad, white chocolate, sandwiches w/ meat.

cause of stress: being overstimulated. crowded, loud places. feeling left out. not knowing where people are. people arguing. dogs sitting by themselves in cars or in front of houses or stores.

a quote i associate with them: "if we don't tell people how we feel, how will they know?"

min-ji 🎧🍵🐰

five random facts: 01. she's always wanted a rabbit as a pet, and specific ones she likes are black otter rex, french lop, and teddy dwarf. 02. min-ji has been playing piano since she was 5 years old, but she wasn't tall enough to play it properly (alone) until she was 10 (lol). 03. she loves to read, especially fantasy, and is one of those people who can read an entire series of books in 1-3 days. she annotates a lot, dogears pages--the books she owns are very much well worn and loved. 04. her favorite/most used emoji is n.n 05. min-ji is ambidextrous, or "why not both-handed" as mikey calls it.

favorite food: chocolate cake, tteokbokki, sushi, tempura, & barbecue.

least fav food: hot dogs. onions. anything pickled. italian food.

cause of stress: feeling like she's being watched. small spaces. underground spaces, like the subway. being sneaked up on. comparing herself to others.

a quote i associate with them: "i think too deeply about everything. i still don't know if that allows me to see more of the world, or less of it."

yunsol 💌💐🎀

five random facts: 01. yunsol's first glimmer of a "gay awakening" was disney's version of pocahontas. cue a paradigm shift in preteen yunsol's life. 02. one of the things she loves to do to relax is to either take a late night bath or swim; she considers these things extremely self indulgent. 03. she loves reading and watching romcoms, kdramas, romance manhwa/manga... especially ones that are sapphic. but she keeps her gay media under lock and key... literally. 04. after min-ji's accident, yunsol and min-ji became much closer as she supported min-ji through her recovery. in her late teens, yunsol got a tattoo of two cranes to symbolize her and min-ji's closeness. it's located on the inside of her upper left arm. 05. she secretly wants to learn to play the electric guitar.

favorite food: stews, ramen, stir-fry, spicy foods, & homemade dumplings.

least fav food: sweets (if they're too decadent). italian food. hamburger meat. oatmeal.

cause of stress: the risk of being outed. having to put on an 'act' for her friends and family. keeping secrets. confrontation. trying to establish a balance between work, socializing, and self care in an authentic way. her parents' high expectations.

a quote i associate with them: "vulnerability is clumsy, but it's the only thing worth anything."

#f: tmnt 2k3 #oc: bree o'neil #oc: min~ji seong #oc: yunsol seong #꒰ happy new year!! ♡ have a thing of a thing!꒱#pdwrites

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real-fanta-sea · 4 years

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Still taking kiss requests? 11 trikey would be cool with an od scare

wow it’s been a month? oops... anyway! Here comes your fic!

"mmmm hello handsome!!"

Usually, when the trailer door was kicked open, and Trevor stomped in, it wasn't at 2 in the afternoon, and Michael didn't stand by the sink in an embarrassingly pink apron, washing dishes. And it also didn't involve two giant plastic bags being tossed towards the kitchen while Trevor snickered and clapped his hands.

"oh my, how did you know I love it when you dress up like a french maid Mikey?"

Michael somehow found it incredibly hard to come up with a coherent answer, because T danced trough the room to slap his ass, snake his arms around him and lay a loud kiss on his neck. Instead of words, he just stabbed him with his signature 'I'll kill you' glare and fidgeted a little to shake Trevor off. It was hot inside the trailer already, and M didn't need another guy sweating into his tank top. To his surprise, the pressure T put on his back was gone in an instant, and when he turned around to find out why, he saw Trevor sitting on the table, drinking beer and checking him out with a predatory grin.

"Trevor I told you not to do that. People might see."

"Isn't it cute how afraid you are to be seen when the whole town hears you moan at night?"

Michael frowned and turned around to fish another dirty plate from the sink and scoff in disgust. When did he sign up to be a housewife? Behind his back, Trevor let out a mighty burp and threw the empty bottle across the whole room right to the open mouth of their new trash bin. When it broke with a satisfying crunch, he cheered and whooped like a teenager with his arms flying all around. It occurred to Michael he was, in fact, the only adult in the house capable of being a caretaker.

"What are you so happy about?"

Trevor opened up another beer and snickered.

"You won't believe it, Mikey. I was on the business trip as usual,"

"Uhuh..." Michael rinsed a plate, turned around and while drying it with a cloth, tuned out the sound and just watched Trevor spill beer while flapping his arms around and overact facial expressions as if he was a kid in a drama class.

"...and when I caressed him gently with my fists a couple of times, he agreed to give me a couple of packs for free!"

Still rubbing the plate, Michael just raised one curious eyebrow "Did you kill him?"

Trevor shifted and pointed the bottle to him so fast a couple of drops splashed out "What kind of animal do you take me for? Of course, I didn't kill him, but I sure took his marshmallows!"

"Wait a second, so those... things are full of marshmallows? What the fuck are we going to do with 100 bags of that crap???"

Trevor tapped his head with his index finger to articulate how stupid Michael just sounded to him. "What else do you want to do with food than eat it, Mikey?"

Michael just shot one dead glare to him and shook his head slowly.

"But I like how you're thinking; we could masturbate with them!"

"Trevor, that's disgusting..."

"Noooo try it! They are incredibly soft!"

"Stop it."

"And so runny when you heat them up! And if you are a good boy, I'd fill them with a very special cream for you..."

"T..."

"Michael, I love you, but you are one big fucking buzzkill, you know that?" Trevor slid down the table, finished the bottle and put it back into the crate. Stretching like a cat, he crossed the space between them and casually leaned against the counter next to Michael and tugged him into a half hug, leaving hand lower on his hip than Michael would have liked. He tried his best to look mad and sulking, glaring up into Trevor's grinning face.

"Aww look at those pretty lips pouting! Why don't we put them into good use..." Trevor leaned closer, and Michael slightly shivered when he felt T's hot breath full of beer and Redwoods on his lips. "...and have a challenge!"

"What?" Michael was utterly baffled. He was so damn ready for a forbidden daytime kiss, but all he could do at the moment was blink a couple of times and see Trevor pull away and laugh.

"Challenge, cupcake! To see how many of these bad boys you can fit into that pretty cockpit of yours."

"Trevor, you know I hate it when you call any part of my body a cockpit!"

"But you are not against stuffing it with marshmallows, are you?"

Michael threw the cloth he was holding to the full sink and immediately regretted the splash because the water would get behind the counter and he simply hated fixing that shit. He turned his frowned gaze to Trevor, who watched him with raised eyebrows and waited for round two of winding him up. There was no use going against Trevor who was determined to annoy him till M would give in. He might as well get it over with sooner than later.

"You know what? Fine. Let's fucking do this." Michael pointed an accusing finger and pushed it as close to Trevor's face as he could to see him cross-eyed and grin wider. "But just because you have a killer whale mouth doesn't mean you'll win!"

Michael stomped to the couch, threw his apron over the closest armrest and continued to the bathroom at the same pace, because why not taking advantage and getting his storage empty before the game begins? Judging by the sounds coming from the kitchen, Trevor decided to do the same, but in the sink right next to the washed dishes. Fucking A.

A lot of rustling and swearing later, Michael decided it was safe to return from his porcelain throne and fall back on the couch, scrutinizing Trevor's grin with suspicion and still wiping water off his hands. Trevor returned his gaze with lively flames in eyes and patted the open bag sitting on his lap.

"Ok Mikey, you start."

Michael's unimpressed gaze did not affect Trevor, determined to see his cheeks stuffed. Without a word, Michael reached into the open bag, snatched one marshmallow from the top and put it in his mouth. He almost let his angry act slip when he saw pink tip of Trevor's tongue wet his lips and then lick around the white foam as it disappeared in his mouth. Alright, he can do better than his boyfriend, can't he? The second marshmallow stuck to the inside of his cheek. And then third, fourth, fifth, tenth...

"yoo cunt fat in any mour, Miki? Yoo r a pushi!"

Michael felt a few drops of sweat roll down his temple - and instinctively frowned and balled his hands in fists. He knew he must have looked ridiculous with all the white foam sticking out his mouth, but for love of God, Michael couldn't let Trevor win, not with that smug expression he sported and with the bag almost empty, which meant just a couple of candies away from victory.

"jooosh ya waat, ya kanaaanian fek"

Fuck, his jaw hurt so fucking bad from keeping it forcibly open. It was precisely that kind of pain that woke him up in the night covered in a cold sweat after his brain gave him a dream about blowing a huge cock. Unpleasant and persistent. Michael exhaled through his nose, and while keeping eye contact with grinning Trevor, he slowly craned one hand into the almost empty bag.

Oh fuck!

Nothing could prepare Michael for the feeling of the soft, hot skin under his fingers and the impossibly wide shit-eating grin Trevor put on. It wasn't like Michael wouldn't expect T to cheat, or come up with a different kind of prank. Still, this oddly familiar thing hardening under his fingers literally took his breath away - and Michael shot up from the couch, wheezing, progressively getting more and more red as he stumbled against scarce furniture.

"Bwahahahaha, you should have seen your face, Mikey - I've never seen you more wide-eyed than now! One would think you're used to the feeling of my dick in your hand by now, baby, but thank you!"

Trevor let the rest of the laugh resonate and mix with the wheezing and choking.

"Mike? You can stop, I got it, you hate it... are you ok?"

In answer, Michael's eyes bulged out, and his face tinted blue.

"That's not funny, sugar..."

Trevor's face grew the most serious Michael had ever seen it when he quickly rounded him, hugged him from behind and pushed against Michael's ribs a couple of times with force M was sure was enough to finish him. Instead of crushing into his ribcage, the last blow loosened something within, and he just watched the cursed candy fly through the thick air and roll under the couch in a ball of saliva and dirt.

For a second, Michael could barely do anything else but take deep breaths and hang onto Trevor's arms that held him steady cautiously. However, he never was a man to put rage off, and with one quick movement, he turned around and slapped Trevor across his frightened face.

"YOU FUCKING PRICK, WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!!"

"Mikey, it was just a prank, I didn't want to kill you!"

"REALLY? REALLY? YOU'VE WANTED TO KILL ME SINCE THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW ME YOU ANIMAL!"

Not even the visible hurt and a couple of tears on Trevor's face didn't stop him from going on with his rant. He paced towards the door as fast as possible and turned around to point a finger to T one more time.

"This is the last time I put up with your shenanigans, Trevor. I'm done with you; we're over, you hear me? OVER!"

"Michael! Wait!"

"FUCK YOU!"

Michael stomped out of the trailer and right into the unforgiving Sandy Shores sun, swiftly passing a bunch of half-dissolved marshmallows, and turned around in the middle of the road to gaze back at Trevor one last time.

"MIKEY!"

"TOO LATE, T! DO YOU THINK I'LL WAIT HERE FOR ANOTHER MURDER ATTEMPT? THAT I'LL KEEP SCRUBBING YOUR DIRTY DISHES AND WASHING YOUR DISGUSTING CLOTHES WHILE WAITING FOR YET ANOTHER KNIFE IN BETWEEN MY RIBS? NO! SO LONG, LOVE, AND FU..."

Whatever it was Michael wanted to say, it was completely drowned in the sound of screeching brakes and sighs of metal being deformed in an impact. Before the world switched off and he slowly slipped into comforting darkness, Michael heard a blood-chilling cry and the same voice calling his name, a voice he painfully needed to hear and hold onto like a lifeline.

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

Rhythmic Beeping. So loud. Droplets of fluid. Impossibly loud. And why is this light so damn white?

Michael had to blink a couple of times before his eyes decided to focus and adjust to the brightness in the room. He had no idea what the hell has happened to him, every part of his body switched on to let him know he was in a fucking lot of pain that was somehow numbed by whatever they put into the fluid dropping steadily into his IV. As a result, every muscle in his body vibrated in a very uncomfortable, subtle way, and it occurred to him it felt like that one time when they lived above a night club - a constant, low and very intruse mumble.

Moving his head around was near impossible - there was something around his neck, keeping it still. With a minor spike of anxiety, he decided to check whether his toes and fingers even respond. Good, he could feel the sheets rubbing against his moving feet, gentle creases in the bedsheet under one of his hands and... someone else's fingers under the other?

The hand twitched as if in sleep, and tightened its grip on his own. Somewhere near his bed, a familiar sleepy grunt echoed, and Michael's memory filled his vision with many pictures of lazy mornings in a small trailer bed, where the same sensation mixed with dust dancing in scarce sunrays and unexplainable peace.

"Michael..."

"T... Trevor..."

A rustle later, Michael could finally see the familiar face hover over him and block out most of the light. He looked 30 years older than he did last time Michael saw him, with his eyes red and weighted with huge dark bags. His hair was greasy again, and his stubble coloured salt and pepper from worry. Suddenly, Michael's eyes closed under the rediscovered sensation of Trevor's palm gently caressing his cheek.

"Mikey? Are you awake?"

Michael opened his eyes again to look into Trevor's, and tears he saw gathering in them were breaking his heart.

"Trevor..."

The sudden extra weight on Michael's body as Trevor jumped onto the bed and straddled him made him wince in pain.

"Oh my God, I was so afraid you'd..."

Trevor bit his lip and tried to stop the tears by taking a shaky breath. Then, as gentle as he could ever be, he leaned in and took Michael's head in both hands, and brushed his thumbs over his cheeks in tiny circles - a movement which Michael found oddly satisfying. Just as he closed his eyes and eased into the feeling again, familiar lips gently touched his forehead and stayed for longer than ever as if Trevor tried to channel everything he wasn't able to say trough the kiss.

"I almost lost you, Mikey..."

Trevor could not hold his tears in anymore, and just let them fall down onto Michael's face as he gently pressed his forehead against the very place his lips left a moment before.

"Please don't leave me, I can't... I can't live without you!"

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, love, can you forgive me?"

Michael wasn't sure Trevor heard or understood what he said - instead of answering, Trevor just collapsed sideways and squeezed him tight, sobbing into the white sheets. With all the strength left within him, Michael pulled him into a soft hug, and let his hand resting on Trevor's shoulder.

"T?"

"M?"

"Look, I... I'm sorry it had to end this way... I overreacted and got you worried sick, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

"No, I admit, it was stupid to put my dick in the bag. I apologize, Mikey... Are you still leaving me, though?"

Michael's grip on him tightened, seeking the heat and well-known frame against him.

"... No. I said stupid things in the heat of the moment, and now I regret I did. I don't want to hurt you."

"Are you coming back home with me?"

"I am, baby - as soon as I can. I love you, T, and I'm too tired to fight it..."

Trevor's head slowly rose from this shoulder, and he could see both surprise and relief on his face. He would give anything to keep that childlike expression on for longer. His own mouth curved into a slight, but warm smile.

"Let's seal the deal with the kiss, shall we?"

Trevor slowly climbed back upon him, and this time, Michael could feel a familiar kick of lust under his belly as T's ass grazed over the sensitive area. Trevor has never been this gentle with him before, and when he closed his eyes as their lips met, all he could think of was the first time he saw him standing by a lone plane and the way it felt to fall in love at first sight with him.

"Mmmm.... Mikey, careful with that, one more poke on my ass and I'll have to ride you right here."

"Shut up,"

There was no malice in Michael's voice for just a joy of having the old horny Trevor back along with the over-the-edge suggestive banter. The grin over the flushed face above him told him Trevor was more than glad he was back to his old self too.

"And put those pretty lips to work, sugar!"

T just snickered, planted the last brief kiss on his lips and disappeared under the whirlwind of sheets.

#GTA V #Trikey #fanfiction #michael de santa #trevor phillips

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kaetastic · 4 years

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TROUBLE

pairing: Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Reader

summary: The infamous trio of Isaiah Jesus, Michael Gray and the second youngest Shelby pay a visit to a bar, except, few unhappy passer-bys ruined the day.

word count: 2.6k

warning: mentions of blood, violence, 1920 racism, slightly nsfw at the end, invisble indirect mentions of sex

note: the racism in this story is used for writing purpose only. i do not advocate such acts. thank you for understanding.

Easiness twirled a ribbon in the air. A silk, delicate cloth of pounds and dim like the backdrop of the stars. The recent sinking of the sun had painted the sky a blur of black once the flashing orange blended in smoothly. Caressing exasperatedly against the canvas, the brush sitting in the painters’ grip danced over the abyss of colours. The moon tugged on the strings beneath the water body as if a puppet, causing crest to migrate, hurling waves; clashing into one another in a milling crowd. With an arm draped over her shoulder which felt nonexistent, Y/N let out an echoing cackle in the bustling night that was kept alive by overworked factory workers. Lips curling up at his success, Isaiah wore his signature charming smirk.

Dangling between Michael’s nimble fingers was a huffing cigarette whose strands of smoke had been engulfed by the exhaling wind. Since the pair had been pacing at their own pace which was way too slow for the man, Michael sauntered past, leaving them alone while he neared the bar they had desired to spend time at.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Isaiah’s warm lips brushed over Y/N’s ear-shells before yanking his head away, keeping a non-gossiping distance (despite his arm around her). Even though her infamous older brothers had been at London for a vital business meeting, it would take a pathetic fool to dare lie their lives on the quivering string. Even if they were hundreds of kilometres away, prodding eyes might linger to only whisper of the scandal sight of a Peaky Blinder and a Shelby.

The grip around his wrist faltered, her fingers unfurled to stuff her chilling hands in the warm pockets of her coat. The piercing edges of her nails hooked onto bulging looped strings, a tugging war between the article of clothing and her fingers. Isaiah’s eyes did not waver from her, still in shock as to what just happened. A giggle fell off her lips at his gawking eyes. The string of smoke she had just stolen from his cig breezed in the air, flying off to dance in the cloud.

“That’s why I do it.” Glancing down at her teeth chomping down on her bottom lip, Isaiah’s tongue poked to run over his lips. Despite his attempt to smear moisture, the chilly night was not merciful.

With a few more strides and transferred giggles, the pair neared towards the Gray who stood in front of the bar. From the inside, golden rays smeared onto the window panes of the French door. The hazy object obstructed passerby to glance a peek, only offering a puppet show of moving limbs over the light rays. Michael tapped his polished shoes onto the drenched valleys that seeped through the rivers between the stone-bricked roads, impatient to how slow the pair was, “You fuckers done fucking each other’s ears?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her cousin. Michael had recently been not so easy to tolerate. With Gray blood swimming in his veins, it wasn’t simple to tug anything out of his head or whatever secret that lied deep in his chained up heart. A trait his mother had definitely passed down. However, Y/N believed the reason to his horrible mood for the week was caused by a woman they had come across not too long ago at the exact bar they were currently pacing towards (most likely to why they were even visiting it again).

Although Y/N was the one who insisted that he shouldn’t approach the girl since glancing at the diamonds anchoring the female to the ground connected all the doubtful dots in the Shelby’s head, she couldn’t help but to feel bad when Michael had been stranded alone as soon as he leaned against the bar, the targeted girl fleeing from the scene as if offended. Alone and filty rich. A combination a gang member would approach for only a night’s fun since a whole relationship was not guaranteed, though, the statement was an exception for Thomas Shelby.

“Keep babbling, cousin. You’re just mad no one sucked your dick in a week.” Isaiah threw his head back at her words. Straying pass the Gray, he patted on Michael’s rigid shoulder which had been tensed, stuffed with clenched muscles.

“She’s right, Mikey. Loosen up, no one’s ridin’ a horse.” As the pair faded into the warm glow of the pub, Michael flicked his cig that was once breathing. The clothing of the stick became drenched in a mixture of rain water and the liquid seeping out from the mysterious hole in the brick wall. Oh, how he’s going to prove them wrong.

Chatters swirled in with clinking of glasses. While a group of highly intoxicated men in the corner let out a rowdy, boisterous cowboy yell, the pair of women in the opposite corner sat with frowns on their faces, eyes darting at their empty fingers. Isaiah’s eyes grazed over the room, arm pulling the second youngest Shelby closer to rest her body onto his.

“Possessive now, are we?” He shook his head while a grin lingered on his lips. Making way through the weaving strands of people, his fingers drummed onto the wooden counter at a beat while he waited for the bartender to notice their presence.

“Three whiskeys.” Isaiah raised his cigarette in the air while he leaned his back on the prodding bar counter. The bartender’s tongue was ready to slice through the air, to kick in some sense in the mere boy who was demanding a drink without payement. When his eyes caressed over the accompanying lady who had been in his arm, the bartender froze on his spot. A Shelby. Without any opposition, he began to prepare the desired drinks. Shrugging off her heating coat which began to become a nuisance in the warm walls of the pub, Y/N rested the cloth onto the counter.

When Michael finally made his way to the pair, he rummaged through his pocket to pull out a crumpled sheet of paper he had yanked in the warm storage place. It was an impulsive decision. What could he have done? He was to complete the rechecking of the documents he had already jotted down the day before. Y/N’s eyebrows clashed at the amusing sight. Had he gone mental?

Seeing Michael indulge himself in scribbled numbers and smudged letters, Y/N let out a huff before she snatched the paper away, “Dear cousin, I know your balls are probably blue, but would you not? The night is still young, go find someone to fuck.”

Michael grumbled at her jest. Even though they were only a few years apart, she reminded him of a pestering child who was not able to zip their mouth shut for a mere second. Annoyed at her words, his eyes hurled a glance on the arm that were still weighed on her shoulders, “Yeah? Why are you so annoying lately? He’s not rough enough?”

Isaiah took a drag of his cigarette, a faint whistle seeped through his lips, “Low blow, Mikey, low blow. You know you don’t talk bad ‘bout another man’s fucking.” The Gray rolled his eyes before snatching the paper back as if it wasn’t critical for his task in the office, stuffing it back in his pocket without darting a glance of care. His reaction was uncanny when a teared piece off paper with scribbled numbers had been handed to him by a mysterious lady.

“Fine,” Michael scowled. Once the drinks sat in front of them, he downed the rock-glass worth of whiskey in one gulp as if he had been left to die. With a thump, the glass was slammed back onto the counter. “See there? I’m going to fuck them and when I come back, you better buy me a fucking bottle. Alright? Happy?”

Before the pair had a chance to hurl back a reply, the frustrated man stomped towards the sorrowful table of women. The grey smeared corner of the pub was dim, the absence of light played shadows on the pair of gloomy women.

Shrugging her shoulders at her cousin’s unexpected burst of emotions, Y/N threw her focus back to the cup. Taking faint sips, her eyes caressed over the bottles of liquor suspended for display. Isaiah shifted closer towards her, his hips resting on hers while an arm snaked around her waist. In silence, he wondered.

“Am I really not rough?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his possible method of fishing for something to smirk or be smug about. Putting the glass on the surface after taking a sip, she turned her body to face the man, “Was the morning not enough evidence for you?”

The exhilarating and exhausting activity they both participated in seeped through his head once he rewounded the tape. The corners of his lips twirled up at the reminder of her cramped legs and her quivering knees. Sipping the rest of the brown liquid, he shot an eyebrow up as if in contemplation. His elbow rested on the bar, chest facing her while his other hand splayed on her waist, under her coat, thumb caressing the warmth radiated by the skin.

“I forgot about it, want to remind me?” Y/N chuckled, fingers brushing his smooth tie. Before she had the chance to throw back a coquettish flirt; tug on his tie so he was on her, a whistle echoed through the silent room which had died down of chattering.

Craning her head towards the man, her fingers furled against Isaiah’s chest, she blinked as she tried to figure out who he possibly was, “This darkie botherin’ you sweetie?”

Just a few thrown glances, Y/N was sure the man was not from Birmingham. The rough smeared accent and velvet suit was the cover that gave everything away. The mood of the room died down from the prominent presence of the trio of men. Hurling her attention back to her whiskey, she turned her back towards the man. To only give him satisfaction, “Fuck me, look at that ass, boys.”

Isaiah’s jaw clenched. Killing the cig within a push, he nudged himself off of the bar to stand in front of the taunting man, “Fuck off.”

“Isaiah...” Y/N mumbled, fingers gripped around his wrist. With a soft tug, she wished he would back away once she noticed the two accompanies at the back cracking their fingers which echoed sounds of bones snapping in fragments, however, his feet had been attached to the ground, ready to spring into action.

The smirk on the man intensified, the curl of his lips pointed a peak to the corner of his eyes, running up the scar that ran from the side of his face to weave to end at the droop of his orbs, “What did you just say to me?”

“I said, fuck off.”

Letting out a loud, amused cackle, he turned his head towards the two other men, who returned with the same hyena crying, “Hear that boys? The black’s telling us what to do,” Noticing the silent from the man much younger than the three was, he proceeded. “Why you with this dog, miss? Hm?”

Y/N pressed her lips, eyes darting to the back of Isaiah’s head. Her brothers were in London. To risk fighting in their absence doesn’t place good luck on their side. Even though a paper of their appearances could lead to mysterious death on papers, Y/N didn’t want to nudge another leaf onto Tommy’s plate, “Isaiah, let’s just go to the Garrison.”

“We just got our drinks, Y/N. I like it here. We’re staying.” Faltering into a tight line, Y/N’s fingers didn’t pull away from his coat, her fingers still pinching it as if a lost child.

“The darkie still talking?” The man chuckled. “I can’t understand what you barkin’ on ‘bout.”

There was one reason the three was going out tonight even though Michael had babbled on about a busy week. Y/N had managed to drag her cousin out of his working cave to drink. And she succeeded. Although she had considered no trouble for the night, her success deserved a celebration. No one was going to ruin that celebration, “Get the fuck out.”

With an amused twinkle in his eyes, he quirked an eyebrow, “You protectin’ this mutt?”

“No, I’m just tryna protect your face.”

His mouth creaked open, the sword rested on the tip of his tongue, ready to be flicked out. Except, a stinging pain tremored on his face. Like a rock had been rammed on his cheeks, he stumbled back from the great force. Oh, the night would’ve been long as she wanted it to be. Except, it wasn’t filled with fucking and drinking. Just blood and punches.

Isaiah’s purple smeared eyes creased at the faint pout sported on her lips. A hiss seeped through the cracks of his sparkly teeth when the taut bruised muscles around his eyes had been tugged too tightly. Y/N glanced up from his hands that were engulfed in hers, her thumb halted in the dipping bump of his knuckles. The strings of branching lines plastered on the scorching red line of hills had been thoroughly washed with water, the first thing Y/N did as soon as they entered the house.

“You’re poutin’. That bad huh?” His hands pulled out of her grip to tug her waist to stand between his legs. Y/N hummed. As her fingers caressed the purple smears on his face, she rested her forearms on his shoulders.

“They ruined your face.” Isaiah let out a chuckle.

“That’s the only thing you care ‘bout?” The words caused her teeth to slide out of the cave, pressing onto her bottom lip.

“That was an bonus point,” Resting her forehead onto his, she gazed deep into his eyes, noticing the plastered sparkles across the abyss. “Glad they didn’t take your cock.”

Without any more words, Isaiah hoped off the table with a creak. Despite the fresh streaks of red on his knuckles, he threw her on before making himself a place between her opened legs. Her mouth gaped open, soft moans trickling into the air in surges that tested his endurance. Isaiah’s lips brushed against the hollow column of her throat before placing a smacking kiss on her humming skin. With her fingers weaved through his hair, she tugged on the locks once he rolled his hips at an agonizing pace.

“‘saiah...” Y/N stammered, teeth chewing on her bottom lip. He let out a chuckle, muffled by the crook of her neck when her legs quivered, hips pressing against him for more friction. His pelvis sat in between her wide open thighs which gave him the best position for his bulging tent to prod against her clothed heat. A hum trickled down his throat while his fingers slithered up her dress to glide over her thighs. Hovering over the radiating barrier that blocked his fingers from her drenched

“For fuck’s sake!” John grumbled. The force he had exerted on barging the door open caused splints of wood to trip over, covering a bedding on the floor as if a neutral-coloured carpet. Y/N didn’t think twice before shoving Isaiah off who let out an ‘oof’ before she sprung off the surface.

Mumbling a a sorry under her breath, she turned towards her older brother, cheeks painted red, flushed from the disturbance, “John!” Y/N yelled, slightly annoyed.

With an irritated pace, Thomas stood by the door, a cig dangling between his fingers. The suspense trickled up her arms while he took his time to huff a drag, “We leave for two fucking days and you lot found yourself in trouble. Fucking unbelievable.”

#isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus x you #isaiah jesus x y/n #isaiah jesus x shelby!reader #isaiah jesus x shelby! reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders oneshot #michael gray #john shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby

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strawberrymilkloadingscreen · 4 years

Text

Painting Part 1 (A Rise TMNT Fic)

You got the call right after coming home from work. You’d barely stripped out of your work uniform when your phone rang. A quick glance at the phone and you felt all the energy sap out of you at the mere picture of Mikey’s grinning face. You tossed yourself into your bed, and brought the covers firmly around your person.

“I’ll go tomorrow. If it’s an emergency I’ll hear something explode.”

Ring!

You groaned and grabbed your phone off the floor and did your best to whisper, not wanting to wake April up if she was still in the house. “Yeah?”

“It’s an emergency!”

With those simply words you struggled into your jeans, and barely had your shirt over your head before you dashed out the door. A few blocks later and some shimmying you managed to get into the sewer and made your way into the lair.

“What’s the emergency? Someone die? Food poisoning? Need an exorcism?”

Everyone in the lair stared at you for a long moment, and you felt heat creeping up your neck and engulfing your face. You scanned the room until your eyes landed on Mikey’s grinning face sitting under a heat lamp.

“You better be dying. I just got off work. I have my internship with my group in six hours. I haven’t eaten-“

The words are hardly out of your mouth before Raph is plucking you up, and dumping you under the heat lamps. Pizza is shoved on your lap, and a bottle of your favorite drink is rolled beside your knee. “You need to take better care of yourself. Bustin’ in here and not even eating dinner? Are you trying to run yourself into the ground?”

“I mean I’m here aren’t I?”

Leo snickered from his spot and held out a fist which you bumped. “See, they get it.”

Mikey sat up and pulled a box out of nowhere. “Hey, so we were gonna go to this art-con thing tomorrow, and we decided to go ahead and paint our shells. We need an extra pair of hands to help.”

“And you couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”

“It’ll take forever to paint and then dry our shells. We’re full grown turtles, Danger. Not kiddies.”

“… You called me at midnight to paint your shells?”

“Yeah.”

“That is fucking awesome.” You yanked the box, and began digging through it. Paints in every shade, large paint brushes, and several types of glitter were all over the box. “So what type of design were ya’ll going for?”

“I dunno, Raph wanted to do rainbows, and Leo isn’t sure yet, and Donie doesn’t wanna do one.”

You tilted your head back to look at the turtle relaxing in the water. “You didn’t want your shell painted?”

“Ha ha, no.”

You shrugged and grabbed a bottle of glitter and a paintbrush. “So who am I painting?”

Mikey threw a few cotton balls at Donnie. “You sure you don’t want them to paint your shell, bro? They have glitttter~.”

“For the thousandth time NO.”

Mikey opened his mouth, but you pat his shoulder as you stood up and went over to Raph. “It’s okay, dude. Let’s start on Raph, and then we can get working on you. Fair?”

He grinned and grabbed the box before scrambling over to his brother. Raph had picked a rainbow for his shell, and the two of you diligently worked on it while Leo ‘directed’. It was really shaping up to look like a gorgeous piece, and you were a little jealous you couldn’t just run around with a giant paintable shell yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing until you felt a hand grab your wrist. You paused and looked up at Leo with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Looks like you cut yourself on Raph’s shell. Might wanna clean that since, you know, we live in a sewer.”

The words hardly left the turtle’s mouth before Raph was spinning around and looking over your wrist in worry. “Seriously- I mean why? I was still!”

You take your hand back gently, and rub the blood off on your paint splattered pants. “It’s okay, dude. It happens. My skin is just pretty fragile for the most part. No worries.”

“I guess? Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can wash it off! We could get Donnie to whip up some kind of super pain killer in the lab.”

“No and no. Humans can only take so much before their brain fries.” The scientist of the group heaved himself out of the water, and knelt down in front of you to examine it. “Also, this is paint.”

“No wonder it doesn’t hurt.”

You turned back to Raph, only to pout when he took a step back from you. “No offense, but I think I’m good.”

“Awe, I didn’t get to finish.”

“It’s okay, I only got to put the metallics on his spikes.” Mikey gave you a thumb’s up. “I’ll be done in a sec. Maybe start on Leo?”

“I guess.”

Said turtle went over to the heat lamp and laid on his front. “Paint me like one of your French turtles.”

“Like a soup?”

“… Touche.”

You knelt down beside him with some of the paints. “Anyway, what did you want on your shell?”

“Maybe just a few planets. I saw the new comic series for Jupiter Jim today, and it had a bunch of planets and stuff on the cover.”

You grin at that, and decide to start on a fire sun in the middle of his shell. “I thought you hated the reboot.”

“This leaves off Jupiter Jim and the Moon Queen Seven. Not even a reboot. It’s like one of those ‘hidden adventures’-“

Leo went on to ramble for a bit as you painted his shell. His love for nerdy space comics had crept into his adult years, and you found it admirable he had no shame in his hobbies. That went for all the brothers though, if you were being honest. Even if they mellowed out a little in their own ways, otherwise they were still the passionate people you had met during your late teens.

You gave a soft sigh as you finished up Leo and leaned back on your palms as you admired your work. “Looks good. Should dry quick since you’re under the hell lights.”

“It’s freezing, how are these even close to ‘hell lights’.”

“You’re cold blooded, dude. I’m not.”

You wiggled out from under the lights, before stretching out and absorbing the cool leaking through the cracked concrete of the floor. “You want me to paint you next Mikey?”

“You look like you’re gonna pass out. Maybe you should take a nap?”

You grunted when Donnie poked you with one of his extension claw things. “They’re dehydrated too.”

“I’m fine, just need to rest my eyes for a quick second.”

“Didn’t you say we could hit you if you slept flat on the ground again?” Leo asked. “I call dibs!”

You pursed your lips as you remember that tidbit. You had said it in jest, mostly, and were more than a little surprised Leo remembered something you said almost three years ago now. Jeez, where’d the time go? With a soft groan you rolled a few feet away until your body hit the water. Muffled shouting echoed through the water before a pair of hands grabbed you by your torso. You broke the water, and found yourself pressed against something rigid and warm.

“Did you seriously have to be that dramatic? You could have died? Even worse you could have given Raph a panic attack.”

There was probably no reason to be gobsmacked that Donnie of all people had saved you. It wasn’t that he was a cruel or vindictive person. Actually, sometimes you thought he was pretty fucking rad. However, he was what one would call ‘petty’ and ‘preoccupied’ even at the best of times.

You blinked when Mikey poked your nose with a glitter stained figure. “She’s in shock! We should get her to the hospital!”

“Ya’ll I’m fine.” You rubbed the glitter, only for it to transfer onto your hand. “I swear ya’ll are the most ridiculous people I met.”

“Us? You just tried to sleep in water! What are you, a fish?”

You craned your neck back to look Leo dead in the eye. “Would you flush me away if I was.”

You were promptly dropped on the ground as Leo lunged for you, but the scuffling and noogies were totally worth it if it was with the people you called family.

#TMNT #Rise TMNT #TMNT 2K18 #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise mikey #Leonardo #donatello #michaelangelo #raphael #Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #found family #Painting #Art #family bonding

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