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melancholysway · 1 year

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TMNT (Bayverse) Headcanons: Fem!S/O Meets Master Splinter

@freakishfandomfiend said:

Could I get a request of Master Splinter meeting the turtles S/O and absolutely falling in love with her, wanting to adopt her immediately and telling the boys that they better marry her. Or something cute and sweet to that effect.

PS: prefer Bayverse or 2003 turtles

I got you! What a nice submission! I'm pretty backed up on posts now and finals are whooping my ass, so I've been pretty slow on updating and such (not to mention the last chapter of serendipity is still in the works, ugh)

Anyhoozle, I did this one a little different! It's still a long-shot, but instead of making individual one-shots for the boys, i wrote a universal one for all 4 of them at the bottom after all the hc's! I honestly hit writer's block when it came to writing the meeting splinter bit to be unique to each turtle 4 different times, so you could say i took the easy route LMAO

anyway I'll stfu

Leonardo

Acceptance from his father is an absolute must

Like seriously if Splinter doesn’t like you

You gotta go

He was still wondering when the good time would be for you to meet his Sensei and father

He’s been able to keep it on the low amongst his brothers (they promised not to say anything, though Mikey is walking on thin ice right now,)

Theyre just so intrigued on how mr perfect got a girlfriend first

He’s now the guinea pig for the other brothers. The blueprint. Of what you should (or shouldn’t) do when bringing your girlfriend down to the lair to meet Master Splinter for the first time

But when you tell him you love him for the first time, he knows he has to tell his father at some point

Lucky for you that some point is right now

He confesses to splinter about you, and he wants to meet you.

Its the first thing he wants to do, because well, you’d better be a good girlfriend to his son

Especially his lil Leo

He would hate it if you brought stress to Leo’s already stressful life, so he has to meet you

To read you, to see what you’re about

So as you make your way down to the lair for the first time you’re anxious, scared, nervous, everything.

“Love, don’t be so nervous. Just…be yourself.” It’s this followed by a soft kiss on your lips that gives you the reassurance you need to meet his Sensei.

Raphael

Raph- to no surprise- is the first to get a girlfriend.

It’s not a shocker to his brothers, I mean, he always did have a way with the ladies (according to Mikey,)

Plus, he has that bad boy / hidden softie persona that girls would fall head over heels for

Splinter’s ultimatum is that if you can get Raph to like you enough to even date you, you were alright in his book

Because Splinter doesn’t have to worry about Raph’s intuition, he follows after Leonardo

He knows when someone’s bad news, and you were most definitely not bad news

Raph is actually pretty quick to getting you and Splinter to meet

Because he wants- no- needs his father’s blessing

“Splintah gotta know, baby. I just…I’m…what if he doesn’t approve?”

You can feel Raphael’s nervousness seep through his words, and you give him a soft smile, and squeeze his hand, to let him know that a father knows best. He would not disapprove of something or someone that made his son happy

Unless she was the enemy…then uh…yeah no.

Splinter’s blessing matters a lot to him. He didn’t care what Leo thought about another human being so close to them, what mattered is that Splinter gave his blessing

And once he gives his blessing, it’s final. No if ands or buts about it

He brings you down one evening, after a lecture from Leo that any human they interact with, must meet Splinter

It just happened to be that you were his girlfriend

He brings you over, the first time you go in the sewers of New York

You greet his brothers, all shocked that you’re actually down here. That Raph’s girlfriend was about to meet their master

You see a large rat in a room, and once Raphael calls out to him, you see him walking slowly over to you, eyes filled with curiosity

Donatello

Donnie is seriously nervous introducing you to his sensei

You ARE the first girlfriend. Donnie got a girlfriend first.

Surprising, I know. You would think it would be Raph or even Leo.

But anyway

He’s afraid of what he’ll say

Because for some reason, Donnie usually expects the worst.

But, he’s always surprised of the things Splinter says, because like I said, he expects the worst

He’s scared Splinter doesn’t like you and forbids any contact with you

Or that Mikey would open his big mouth before you could even meet Splinter

Or that you and him don’t last long after and this whole introducing you to his father thing would be pointless

“Donnie, I’m not going anywhere.” He’s relieved to hear this. You weren’t planning on leaving him any time soon. Or any time at all.

Donnie practices exactly how he’ll introduce you to his father. He goes through many dialogue options, eventually realizing that he cannot predict what his father will say when he first meets you

All of that doubt running through Donnie’s head comes to a halt when Splinter lays eyes on you for the very first time.

He knows it, that you’re the one for his son.

Michelangelo

Mikey isn’t as nervous as his brothers to introduce you

He psyches himself out when he doesn’t know what Splinter’ll say or how he’ll react to you

“But…but what if he doesn’t accept you, Angelcakes?”

He doesn’t know for sure, if he will or not

He’s usually optimistic, unlike Donnie, but right now, he was thinking of the what-ifs.

Because, well, he and his brothers didn’t have to worry about introducing their girlfriend to Splinter. Mikey is the first.

He doesn’t have any advice from his three brothers, only a “good luck with that” from Raph when he mentions it.

Master Splinter had not expected any of them to have a girlfriend, so he did not give them the run-down of how to introduce them or the formalities when they do

So he’s sort of left to do things himself.

Since he’s the first. Mikey got the girl first.

He hypes himself up on the way to the lair, then immediately searching for master Splinter and boasting about you and all your good qualities

But, Splinter doesn’t need to know that. He knows just by looking at you.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You decide to be formal. As your boyfriend had told you, it's something his father is so used to being. Splinter often is formal, never using slang or harsh language. He’s proper, always has been and always will be. You’re the first to speak, because Splinter is too busy observing you. Looking at you, looking into you. Trying to map you out and see what you’re about all with one stare. It’s something he’s good at, something that his other sons envy him as he’s a pro.

You wonder what’s going through your turtle’s head, the way he’s looking at his Sensei and father, wondering what’s going to come out of his mouth. He’s waiting for the climax of this whole thing, and it’s driving him mad on the inside.

Splinters eyes meet yours after taking your presence in, and you feel mildly uncomfortable whilst making eye contact. Just like your boyfriend, you’re not wondering what’s going to come out of Splinter’s mouth. Up until this point, he has not known of your existence. The mutant turtle was keen on keeping you a secret from his father for the time being. He needed time. Time to be with you and see if you would potentially pass the rest of meeting his father.

So as Splinter begins to speak, you’re surprised by what he says.

“I always knew you would get into a relationship first, my son. Do not tell the others.” Splinter says, smiling as his wrinkles fold every which way on his face. Splinter has told each of his sons things like this before.

That Leo was destined to be the leader

That Raph was always going to be the most passionate for things he loved

That Donnie would become the genius of the family

That Mikey would have the biggest heart. It’s not something he hides.

But this relationship bit? Yeah, don’t tell his brothers about that.

“Oh thank god-“ It feels as though a big weight has been lifted off the terrapin’s shoulders, as he’s now engulfing you into a soft embrace. Splinter doesn’t have to say anything else to know that you were accepted by him. And by the way his son acts around you in comparison to the rest of his brothers? How calm he is around you? Yeah. Splinters more than okay with it. That you get to be his son’s first girlfriend.

But, he has a funny feeling about one thing.

“I’m assuming she’ll be your only girlfriend?” Splinter states, giving you a small smile and his son a devious wink. It confuses the hell out of your boyfriend, and when you catch on to what his father means, you’re both laughing with each other, already finding common ground and things to bond over.

After meeting the turtle’s Sensei, your boyfriend leaves you to go on patrol with the rest of his brothers, as Splinter mentioned he would love to get to know you more. After all, it’s not everyday he talks to a human that isn’t April or Casey.

You wind up talking in the dojo, whilst white noise plays in the background and you get to know one another over tea. He tells you things about his son- your boyfriend- things that he hopes you can help with.

All of his sons have a bad habit or two that he thinks you’d be able to alleviate them from.

Leonardo overworks himself to be the best he can be.

Raphael carries the world's problems on his shoulders.

Donatello gets lost in his lab and loses track of time, often letting himself go in the process.

Mikey needs to focus more on things that matter in the long run.

“I often wonder if my sons will ever feel this emotion we call love. I’ve taught them everything, but to love a woman.” Splinters voice falters, as he seems to be beating himself up for the fact that he failed to teach his sons a crucial part of life. As bad as it may sound, he assumed they wouldn’t be able to find it. That humans will never see them as anything but ugly.

So he’s grateful for you.

“While I hope my other sons get their turn in loving a woman, I am glad one of my sons has been able to properly love. you,” He takes a sip of tea, glancing at the Ifamily portrait that sits atop a shelf in the corner of the dojo, a shrine of kinds.

“…without any guidance from me. It is truly admirable. He has made me one happy old rat.” You can’t help but giggle softly at that last part.

“I can see through you, miss Y/n. I can see you. For what you are. That is why I accept you.” Splinter is very in tune with his intuition, there was no doubt about it. So much so, that you were dying to know what he meant by that.

“If I may ask…what do you see?”

And…he tells you.

He sees an accepting woman in front of him. One that gives those the benefit of the doubt before anything. That he can tell that’s how you started your relationship with his son. He just knows that they struggled with grasping the fact that you were attracted to him, despite being a mutant turtle. Despite the roughness of his skin, you still accepted him. Despite the difference in height and appearance, you still accepted him. That you wanted this. You wanted a relationship, not out of pity, but because you had fallen in love. You’d fallen in love with one of the four mutant brothers.

He tells you the story of how they became to be who they are today. You’ve heard this story from your mutant boyfriend, but it’s something about the way Splinter describes it- from his point of view, that gives you a newfound respect for the entire family. Their sensei had raised mutants to be something so special, not even realizing it until they went to the surface for the very first time.

You continue to converse, and time seems to pass you both by. It had to have been an hour or two, because the Lair doors open, and three brothers are helping one turtle to the couch, obviously in pain.

It hits you that it’s your boyfriend.

As Splinter sees the look of concern on your face, you immediately rush to the turtle’s side, already ordering his brothers around to get ice from the freezer, the med-kit from the lab, and bandages from the cabinet. It is now where Splinter sees how gentle you are with his son, that he could almost hear wedding bells.

It was beautiful to see the way you handled him with such care, like a mother. How nurturing you were, and how you gave him a kiss when you were finished, helping him up and getting him to his room to rest. That’s what he needed. After a lot of TLC from you, he needed rest.

So when you emerge from your boyfriend’s room, relieved that he’ll be okay, Splinter commends you on your actions.

That he knew you would do that. It’s the type of person you are- he’s seen that when looking at you.

“Thank you, for tending to my son.” He takes your hands in his paws, smiling gently at you.

He has fuzzy hands.

As you decide to spend the night with the guys in the Lair, Splinter sneaks past you as you converse with the remaining three turtles in the living room while grabbing an ice pack, and walks over to his son’s room.

He watches as the turtle groans in pain from the bed, the ice pack already melted, and his ankle elevated for proper blood flow. How he sits there, slightly defeated, but grateful that his girlfriend went all doctor on him.

“May I ask you something, my son?” He makes his presence known, as the turtle’s face scrunches in confusion, but gives a weak nod for his sensei to continue.

Splinter strokes his beard, before giving him that gentle smile he and his brothers have all come to know and love, “when is the wedding?”

“Dad!” You overhear their conversation as you walk up the stairs, and you stop in your tracks, wondering what your boyfriend would say.

“Too soon? My apologies,” You hear Splinter chuckle weakly, before continuing, “She is very nice, my son. Caring, nurturing, everything that men search for in a woman. Treat her right, and marry her. She will bring nothing but joy to your life, I can tell.”

It ends with a laugh coming from your injured boyfriend, “I plan on it.”

It’s enough to make your heart soar. Splinter is now the unofficial wingman for you, and you hope your boyfriend holds up to that plan. Because honestly, spending the rest of your life with him was something you daydreamed about.

taglist:

@bee-1n-space

Masterlist

#tmnt #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt imagines #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #bayverse raph #bayverse leo #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt fanfiction

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

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hi normie!!! I loved the famous reader hc you made!!! And since you’re posting about 2012! Turtles with a baby sibling I have a scenario!

The turtles with their little (fem) sibling on her first patrol night! After training for a couple years splinter finally agreed to let her go out on patrol with her older brothers thanks!

THIS IS GONNA BE SO WHOLESOME-

ONE FOR THE ~~~~~BOOKS~~~~~

◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇

Summary: It's your first time going on a patrol with your brothers, and just some wholesome family memories.

Warnings: Mild depictions of violence (Aka some muggers gettin their butts beat.)

Requested: @urfavarab

Female Reader!

....................................

You excitedly equipted your gear, sheathing your Kabutowari before rushing out of your room.

You entered the main room and your brothers stood from the couch to greet you. "Ready to go, (Name)? Everything's on right?" Donnie asked, checking you gear.

You nodded, smiling widely in excitment, "Yes, Donnie, it's fine. Can we go now?"

"Hold on," Leo said, leaving the room to grab something, he walked back in with a camera, holding it up with a smile, "Say cheese!"

You shook your head, giggling, "Cheese!"

The camera clicked, and Leo nodded happily. He handed the camera to Splinter as the old rat entered the room. Splinter took the device before walking up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder, "Now my daughter, I understand this is exciting, but you musn't lose focus. Leonardo is your leader, listen to him. Stay close to your brothers and stick to the shadows. Make sure your mask stays on, your identity is your most valuble possesion. Keep it. And finally, be careful." he removed his hand from your shoulder, motioning for you to follow your brothers out the door.

You spun around as you exited the Lair, yelling out over your shoulder, "Bye, Dad! Love you!"

"This is gonna be great."

Your brothers led you along their normal route, Leo spouting reminders and tips on actually being in the field. Mikey skidded to a stop, just ahead, silently signaling to the alley below.

In the alley stood a group of Purple Dragons harrassing a young looking couple. Leo began to make gestures with his hands, trying to signal his plan, rather than speak it.

You tilted your head in confusion, looking to Raph for a translation. Your red clad brother just shook his head and rubbed his temple, he then motioned for you to follow him into the alley.

The two of you landed silently in the alley, crouched just behind the Purple Dragons. Raph gave a sharp whistle, and the Dragons spun around. After their attention was no longer on the couple, you watched as they booked it from the alley.

You menacingly drew your kabutowari, still crouched low. The Dragons laughed, "Oooh, look fellas the turtle brought his precious baby sister. What are you gonna do, huh? there's two of you, and four of us. You don't have no-"

The Dragon stopped and you smirked, the four muggers turned to face your other three brothers.

"You were saying?" Leo said, katanas drawn and aimed at the enemy.

Three out of four Dragons had enough sense to be nervous, the fourth either had no sense of self preservation or he was just plain stupid, because he charged right towards you.

You side stepped his attack, bringing the handle of your kabutowari down on the back of his head, knocking him unconcious.

The other three sprung into action in retaliation, and a short scuffle insued that ended with the Dragons spread out along the concrete.

You exchanged a fist bump with Raph, one arm wrapped around Mikey's shoulder. Leo moved the group so that youbwere standing just infront of the unconcious Dragons, Donnie holding up his phone for a selfie.

"Everyone say pepperoni!"

You threw up a peice sign, "Pepperoni!"

Patrol lasted a few more hours after that, and ended with the five of you at Mr. Murakami's eating pizza gioza.

"You did good today, shorty." Raph said, nudging your shoulder with his own.

You shoved him back, laughing, "I'm almost as tall as you, Raph. Give it afew more inches, then we'll see who's short."

"Alright, c'mere smartass."

Raph pulled you into a choke hold, giving you a noogie.

You pulled out of the hold giggling while you tried to fix your hair, "Leooo, Raph messed up my hair."

"Leave her alone, Raph."

"I'll get him back for ya, (Name)!"

"Mikey put that water balloon away!"

....................................

I love writing the sibling stuff, mostly because I can embody the chaos me and my siblings cant create lol!

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #leonardo x reader #donnie x reader #raphael x reader #leonardo x reader tmnt #mikey x reader #platonic x reader #tmnt x reader platonic #master splinter x reader #master splinter x child reader #sibling reader

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imashoe69420 · 1 year

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HI HI!! I hope you're doing well- I just thought of like a funny thing for a rise!boys x Reader headcanon thing where like, Reader goes by the same name as like each of the boys so it gets confusing and they have to like come up with a nickname for him [Reader is genderfluid and uses he/she/it pronouns ^__^ so fem or masc works too!! I request this because I go by both Leo and Donnie so it'd be funny to see these hcs with them and the other boys too!!]

This is actually so funny, thank you for requesting! I hope I do your prompt justice!

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

☆Rise!Bros X Reader Headcannons★彡

Genre: Fluff

Reader Pronouns: Gender-fluid (he/she/it)

Relationships: Ambiguous

Timeline: Post Movie

Warnings ⚠️: Mild Language

==================================

Prompt: You use the same nickname as the turtles and it gets pretty confusing.

===================================

Leo

• Leo both loved and hated that you two shared a name.

• He loved it because there was finally another Leo, justifying how amazing his nickname was.

• He hated it because of how his brothers teased him through you:

• “Hey, Leo, did you use the last of the peanut butter?” Raph called from the kitchen.

• The blue clad turtle adjacent to him shook his head. “Why do you assume I did?”

• Raph smirked as his brother fell for the trap. “Oh, not you. The cooler Leo.”

• You, sitting on the counter, giggled as the turtle flushed.

• “‘The cooler Leo’? I’m the original, therefore cooler.” The blue clad turtle argued.

• “Original doesn’t mean better, Leo #2.” You played along.

• OG Leo couldn’t believe his ears.

• “‘Leo num—’… that’s it!” Leo slammed his hand on the table as he stood up. “I’m asking the others. I’m sure they know who the best Leo is.”

• Mikey, Donnie, and Splinter agreed with you and Raph.

• When Leo took the walk of shame back to the kitchen, you slung your arm around his shoulders.

• “It’s okay,” you comforted him, “you’re still the original. Okay?”

• Leo grumbled, but allowed you to hug him before walking out of the room.

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

Raph

• For some reason, Raph could not wrap his head around the fact that he shared a name with you.

• He constantly called you other people’s’ names:

• “Leo—! Er, Mi—April—Raph! I meant Raph.”

• Despite being in battle with a supervillain, the others couldn’t stop themselves from laughing.

• “My point is: attack!” The turtle’s face flushed.

• Back at the lair, you continued to tease him a little.

• “You brought up a good point, though. What other nicknames are there for Raphael? Rah? Ra-Ra? Lil’ Ael?”

• Raph snickered at the suggestions. “Lil’ Ael…”

• You laughed. “How about we just scrap ‘Raph’ and just use Lil’ Ael and Ra-Ra?”

• “I’m not being Lil’ Ael.”

• “Why?” You whined. “I wanna be Ra-Ra.”

• “But you’re little. Suits you perfectly.”

• “Little to you!”

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

Mikey

• Neither of you necessarily cared that you were sometimes confused.

• In fact, all you did was make rules; the main one being that under no circumstances was the nickname “Mike” used.

• You both hated that name. It sounded basic and more fit for a much older person.

• With that being said, the others would slip up constantly:

• “Mike, can you—”

• Raph received the most deadly death stare from the two of you.

• “Er, uh, Mikey… 2?”

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

Donnie

• You already know Donnie planned this out in his favor.

• Instead of “Donnie”, he called you “Don”.

• Eventually, you started calling Donnie “Don”. Donnie sometimes slipped and called you “Donnie”. Then you called each other “D”.

• So Donnie was “Don” sometimes and Don was “Donnie”. But they’re both “D”.

• The situation soon became a cluster-fuck of confusion:

• “Hey, Don,” you called from inside the Turtle Tank, “how does this work?”

• After explaining, Donnie commented, “You got it wrong by the way.”

• You cocked an eyebrow.

• “You’re ��Don’, remember?”

• “You’re ‘Don’, too sometimes.”

• “No, I’m Donnie.”

• You shrugged. “Well, I’m older than you so I was Donnie first.”

• “Only by a few months.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you bring that up during the nickname conversation we had when we first met?”

• You shrugged again. “Dunno, Don. All I know is I’m Donnie.”

• “No.”

• “Yes.”

• “You’re just being stubborn now.”

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fluff #rottmnt raph #rottmnt reader insert #rise leo #rottmnt leo x reader #x reader #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader

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captainofthedauntless · 1 year

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Hello!! I just wanna say first I love your work and your doing amazing and if possible I'd like a to request something.

It's my birthday today, and I was wondering if you could write the bayverse tmnt boys and how they would celebrate your birthday or their birthday's if that's ok? I love you and have a great day👋

Hi lovely! Happy Birthday :] I hope it's still the right day LMAO

(Thank you BTW! You are so kind and that means a lot.)

Post-movies HCs below!

I think they all go a little apeshit for birthdays TBH. They are very aware of mortality, risking their asses all the time, and love any excuse to celebrate life.

(Since you didn't specify romantic or platonic, I'll try to do a bit of both! I think the guys would make an effort to know their brothers' partners anyway, so if you're with one they're probably all excited to celebrate with you LMAO)

Don's a sweetheart, okay? Like, to his core. He's sweet and thoughtful and caring, so if you're important to him then it's important to him that he do everything he can to make your big day as special as possible.

This guy totally keeps a list of all the things his loved ones mention through the year that might make good gifts. Things you need fixed, things you need replaced, stuff you want to do- he writes it all down (literally or mentally, I'm not sure). So when your birthday comes around, he's got ideas ready and waiting!

The remote for your TV that only works if it's held at a Very Specific Angle, with a muttered prayer and a sacrifice of chicken nuggets? Replaced, and it probably controls your lights now, too.

You mentioned your computer running slow? He gives you a very professional looking purple coupon for one free computer cleaning, courtesy of DuzMachines LLC, signed by the CEO himself, Donnie Tello. (He looks way too amused by it, honestly.)

Or your hidden passion for table tennis that you only brought up off-handedly six months prior? Well, you better be ready to stretch your wrists, because he assembled a table for it and found a net and paddles and he and Mikey have been practicing to kick your ass.

If you guys are dating, he makes absolutely sure that he gets some solo time with you, away from his family. He leaves all of his tech in the lair (except for his phone and an Absolute Emergency Only panic button, because he's been doing this "save the city" thing long enough to know that if he actually goes off without a way for his brothers to get a hold of him, he'll come back to something on fire or someone bleeding or some sort of bomb going off in Central Park) and takes you for a nice drive. You guys go out in the middle of the night when the traffic is as easy as it'll ever get, and he puts you on DJ duty, and you spend a couple hours just driving around and enjoying each other's company until you end up parked in a quiet spot and he's pulling out a cooler bag of your favorite dessert to share with you.

He stutters a little, but he tells you how much he loves you. How happy you make him. How grateful he is to get to be yours. He kisses you so sweetly that it's even better than the dessert, and when you finally break apart you're smiling and he looks absolutely lovestruck.

"I mean it, you know that?" he says softly, cupping your cheek is his hand and squeezing ever so gently. "I love you."

Leo is micro managing the shit out of his family. Every inch of the lair will be cleaned and prepped for celebrating, okay? If he sees a single pizza box out of place he will be a bitch about it.

He really, really wants to have everything perfect for you.

He's really big on meaningful gifts. He works with April to get you a nice copy of one of his favorite books and writes a heartfelt little note on the first page, wishing you a happy birthday.

Or maybe he's painstakingly curating the perfect playlist of songs that make him think of you and burning them onto a CD, writing your name on the front in that perfect handwriting of his that makes it look like he cares about each letter.

He's the one coordinating all of Mikey's big plans for your big day, too. Leo makes sure everyone's at the lair and settled on time, makes sure that every gift is accounted for and wrapped, makes sure that you know exactly what to expect so you're fully prepared when you walk in to a very happy (read: loud) family gathering.

If you're dating, it's even worse. Everything gets double and triple checked. He makes himself and everyone else a little insane.

And then you come in and grin at him and suddenly the mismatched wrapping paper and clashing bows are more charming and homey than they are frustrating.

Leo makes absolute certain that he gets you alone at the end of the night. It looks like a really natural transition to you, but you know from the big fake yawn Mikey puts on that he isn't nearly as tired as he claims- and knowing your boyfriend, you suspect he had a hand in the comfortable privacy the two of you find yourselves in.

You almost call him out on it, but he's looking at you with so much love it makes your heart ache a little, so you decide to skip the teasing. (For now.)

He gave you a gift with the rest of the group, sure, but now he digs out a cute little box. When you open it, there's a bracelet in just the right metal to contrast gorgeously with your skin, lovingly shaped and formed and perfect.

He's nervous, but it only takes you looking up at him and going "Oh, Leonardo," for him to smile at you again.

"I'm happy to make adjustments to it, if you want."

"If you think I'm letting this out of my sight long enough for that, you are spectacularly incorrect."

He chuckles, and he helps you put it on, and he presses a kiss to your forehead so tenderly you think you may melt right into the floor.

He immediately gives in to you tugging him down to kiss his lips, too.

Obviously, Mikey has exactly zero chill. He goes a lot apeshit. We're talkin' hand-painted banner with your name that goes across the entire living area, a table cloth in your favorite color, every single game and activity you have ever mentioned enjoying all stacked up nice and neat so you can pick whatever you want. You want to play Twister? You bet, baby- he'll even go easy on you. More of a Charades person? He's rounding up the whole crew to play, and Splinter is damn good at it. Mario Kart? You get first dibs on characters and cars. (He will not go easy on you, though. He has a reputation to protect, birthday or not.)

Do not get me started on food.

This guy goes ham. April gets a novel-length shopping list, with your favorite snacks and all the ingredients for your favorite meal and your favorite dessert and he's making mixed drinks that have edible glitter in them. Booze optional- he's a mocktail master, alright?

Leo happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when Mikey does a test run of your meal. Leo proceeds to be stuck because Mike needs a taste tester, and "C'mon, Leo, it's gotta be perfect!", and "No no, just one more tweak, 'kay? Then you're free to go be boring."

(It was not just one more tweak.)

Now, if you're more lowkey, he tries- really really really tries- to keep it chill for you. He does. But he doesn't know how not to do a little something, so you're still getting some Chef Mikey action. Sorry.

If you're dating? Hooooo boy. You are getting smothered in as much affection as you can stand- and he's pretty good at gauging that, so it's only good vibes here. No overload from Mikey, not on your big day! But if you're receptive, you're getting texts right at midnight (despite him being on patrol, BTW) full to the point of bursting with emojis. He follows that up with good morning texts when he gets up. Then it's you coming down to the lair and celebrating and eventually, when things start to slow down a bit, he tugs you away to a secluded corner of their home for cute smooches and big hugs and "Happy birthday, Angel."

("You have a good day?" he asks, eyes big and hopeful and sweet, and when you say yes he scoops you up and spins you just to hear you giggle.)

Raph is actually the only one of the four with any kind of chill- mostly because he is terrified of ruining your day. Birthdays are a huge deal to him, and if he screwed up yours he would legitimately feel guilty until the day he died.

So he keeps it pretty simple. He's a crafty guy, so he might carve you a little wooden decoration for your place, or make you a bowl out of clay, or knit you a big blanket in your favorite color. It's thoughtful, it's either useful or gorgeous, and it's easy for you to carry home.

He's the one that keeps Mikey in check- tries to keep some of the bigger, crazier schemes in line, but he does it without raining on Mike's parade.

And if anybody catches an attitude on your big day? They have this guy to deal with. He takes zero shit. Seriously, Leo's getting bitchy? He gets one (1) warning look. Vern turns up and does anything even remotely annoying? Raph's behind you, silently threatening anything and everything Vern holds dear. Mikey gets too noisy? Raph's bumping his shoulder and having some silent sibling communication. It's all so subtle it's almost off-brand, but it's his way of making sure you have a good day. He's protective!

And if you're dating? Please.

He's doing whatever you want. You need a massage? You're hungry? Tired? Like two degrees too cold? He's got you.

You're having the perfect day if he has to cut his own arm off to make it happen, okay?

He's perceptive, too, so you probably don't have to ask for much.

The gang tries to sing and you look a little uncomfortable? "Happy Birthday to you, blah blah, cake time." And he's winking at you and passing you the cake cutter and it's so no-bullshit that everyone takes the hint but it makes him the center of attention long enough for you to relax again.

(And if you're not a cake person, he totally has Mikey organize another treat, just for you. He helps Mike in the kitchen, too. That shit is made with so much love.)

The night ends with the cuddles of your life. He gets kinda quiet, and it's easy to think he's just tired, but you look over at him and he's staring at you and he looks like you're built out of stardust.

"Shit," he mutters, nuzzling into you and hiding his face in the process. "Love you."

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pianocat939 · 1 year

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not sure if youve done this yet but maybe yandere turtle hcs with a fem reader who finally mentally broke from everything theyve put her through to a point she obeys but is completely blank like no other emotion, quiet unless told to speak, is almost robotic, when they try hurting to get a reaction out of her she just doesnt react at all already used to it pretty much just all around traumatized and resigned. i wonder who's more likely to be happy about it or more concerned.

like if they ask what's wrong with her all she could say is "isn't this what you wanted?"

even more so when she's given more freedom as time passes but she doesn't budge at all knowing its futile anyway

I have done this before, on multiple occasions; however, I will expand the idea since there are a few differences between the requests.

Tw: manipulation, mentions of being delusional, Raph gets pulls reverse card on himself (depresso espresso), kidnapping

I recommend checking out this post as it has a similar idea.

Now the thing I will explain more about is who is the most + least concerned.

Most:

- Raph

- Mikey

- Donnie + Leo

Least:

You see, Raphie never wanted to see you broken. It was his clinginess and anxiety that made him act this way. So he feels horrible, to the point he'll blame himself. Now, you guys are both broken. It could go either two ways: he lets you free and waddles in a life full of sadness or, you guys stay in the lair together, cracking slowly. The best thing you can do is therapy because it benefits both you and him.

Mikey freaks out if you show any sign of unhappiness. So it's kind of obvious that he shows some sort of worry. But there is one thing that puts him below the list in comparison to Raph. He's impulsive with his actions sometimes, which leads him to assume the wrong thing. He thinks that maybe you don't feel loved enough. And it's not that he's delusional, no he literally just thinks the wrong idea. Additionally, he's the least likely to kidnap and isolate: meaning this will never happen.

I'm sure people are going to say something when I say the twinsies are the least concerned but it's true. And it's for similar reasons between them.

Donnie already struggles with emotions, so this confuses him. Like, you're given everything you would need or want. So why are you so downcast? Sure, he kidnapped you, which is morally incorrect. But he can't help it! He adores you (not that he would really like to admit it) and wants to have you next to him at all times. Plus, he can keep you safe and ensure no bad influences come your way.

Leo's reason is only slightly different from Donnel's. He believes that you're receiving the love you need. So, hating him is just odd. One thing I would like to add; he would be surprised his manipulation hasn't worked yet. You're supposed to be delusional by now: clinging onto him and accepting his love. Like Mikey, he's less likely to kidnap you, as his manipulation substitutes kidnapping.

——————————————————

This was so fucking messy help ;-;

I almost struggle with this as it's such a common trope in the yan genre and like I can't think of anything rare or unique.

- Celina

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val-velocityy · 2 months

Text

Chubby! Sportacus Headcanons.

I might write a fic about it someday, but since I've got so much positive feedback from my mutuals in the Lazytown fandom, I thought I might give you some more of my Hc:

Robbie noticed that even if Sportacus technically only eats healthy food, his meals aren't the best. He is talented when it comes to a lot of things, but he can't cook a meal.

I got the idea of him not being able to cook from this post

Just look at him... what is that???

So Robbie takes it upon himself to try to humiliate the town hero in the annual community cooking event (idk I just made it up). However this time, instead of poisoning the food with sugar and other unhealthy stuff he decides to actually cook a good, healthy meal. That way it would be even more embarrassing because he beat Sportacus with his own weapons.

This doesn't go as planned at all. The hero and the town's people are thrilled, and Robbie wins first place. Which does a lot to boost his ego.

A few days later, Sportacus visits him in his lair and asks if he can show him how to cook. Robbie, at first, is a bit taken aback. The cooking competition was just supposed to be a one-time thing, after all. But he also enjoys that Sportacus comes to him for help. So the both of them start to meet up regularly so Sportacus can learn from him.

Many failed attempts later, they both come to the realization that it is no use. Sportacus just can't cook. But both of them enjoy the time they are spending together, and so they just continue doing it, just with Robbie doing the actual cooking and Sportacus helping him cutting the vegetables.

Over time, Sportacus gains a sustainable amount of weight, not that much that it would be unhealthy, but there is certainly a lot more chub to him. So much that Robbie and the other townspeople seemed to notice it. Robbie likes to tease him from time to time, but in reality, he's very happy that the hero finally eats a good meal instead of raw vegetables.

Now onto the part where my hc gets a bit fuzzy (leave some feedback if you want to) but one thing I think would be cute is that if an Elf falls in love, their metabolism slows down significantly, resulting in them gaining more weight. They only do it when they feel absolutely comfortable and they can't really control when/if it happens. It also doesn't really bother Sportacus because even if he likes to stay fit, he doesn't need to be skinny and muscular to be so. He still can do everything just like he used to after all. (Well maybe most off the things, sometimes he still needs to adjust to his additional weight and falls over while doing gymnastics, much to the delight of Robbie)

This is all I have to offer so far. If you have any suggestions, anything you want to add/ change, feel free to comment/ reblog, or if you have a question you can also send me an ask.

Also, if this inspired you in any way to draw/ write something for it. Feel free to do so! I don't own the concept of gaining weight after all. xD

One last thing I'd like to mention is that weight gain can be a sensitive topic, and I am aware of that. I'm quite chubby myself, and I'm writing from personal experience, and this is in no way meant to make fun of people who are chubby.

#lazytown #robbie rotten #sportacus #au #headcanon #latibær #fanfiction

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yanteetle · 1 year

Note

*Falls in from ceiling*

Throw your hcs at me please! I love reading what you write and you are. SO FUN TO TALK TO

Awww thank you! I'm really honoured that you think I'm fun to talk to! OKAY OKAY SO. I personally feel that the turtles would probably get all yandere, post movie! As much as I love the old lair found in the show, we all know that they had to move out shortly after Shredder's defeat and went for an abandoned subway station.

I think that with this change, not only is it easier for them to keep their darling's hidden, but it'd also be much easier to keep things clean and ensure their darling's needs are catered to! I really enjoy thinking about how the turtles would keep their darlings hostage, and it's be much easier to deal with them knowing that their subway-car-rooms are much more private, cool looking, (and did I mention that I found out Leo has a nice quality-looking mattress in his room when I saw the movie again??) AND there are more ways for them to basically prevent their darling from running away!!

Like. Their old rooms had CLOTH for doors. But now that they have subway cars for rooms?? Not only can they chain you to the train poles, they can pretty much hang you up from the subway handles (the ones that hang from the ceiling of the subway car) Which I personally find to be very entertaining <33 I'm mostly basing these hcs from how subway cars are built where I'm from, but I love these hcs and I can't let them go :((

Oh but for normal hcs? I never tell anyone this, but I personally feel like Leo or Raph would be the most tolerable yanderes out of the entire rottmnt main cast! I never talk about Yandere April, but I know for a fact that she'd be absolutely BRUTAL with her bat if her darling ever got hurt. AND do not forget all of the jobs she's had! I know for a fact that she has so many connections that even if her darling managed to escape, she'd eventually find out their whereabouts from all of her links from her networking. (this is especially more prevalent when she pursues her journalism major and whatnot) But I love her so much and maybe one day I can finally talk about her more! <33

#yanteetles writing #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere tmnt #yandere #yandere rottmnt #random asks <3 #obsessive yanderes #male yandere x reader #yanteetles tellings #yandere rise of the tmnt #yandere tmnt 2018

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little-mouse-gardens · 4 months

Text

Rottmnt oc headcannons

Part three : Skye

I’m continuing on with my rottmnt oc headcannons, I have so far completed Marcy and Sunny’s headcannons.

Marcy’s —> https://www.tumblr.com/little-mouse-gardens/734298414127382528/rottmnt-oc-head-cannons-so-im-gonna-be-doing-hcs

Sunny’s —> https://www.tumblr.com/little-mouse-gardens/736082157867532288/little-mouse

And now I have completed Skye’s, which should leave me with Angie’s headcanons to finish! Then I can finally start finishing and posting oneshots >:3

- Skye was named after her aunt on her mothers side

- Skye takes incredible care of her skin, because she can be acne prone with certain products. No one will ever know the secrets to her skincare routine, all except for Leonardo who practically begged her to spill the beans.

- can’t stand the smell of nail polish remover, literally had to cover her nose while she paints and removes nail polish because the smell makes her wanna gag

- may or may not have taught leo to paint designs on his nails. Him and her Defiantly match when they can

- tries her best to help leonardo with his insomnia. Tea, music, making him laugh until he’s tried or just cuddling him (his personal favorite) until he gets tired enough to fall asleep

- didn’t even shed a tear when she got her nose and ear piercings. To a point her and her sister’s mother thought something was wrong. Turns out she was just screaming internally-

- Parkour is her specialty. Roof hopping is just an average Tuesday night for her.

- Takes great care of her hair, prefers to keep it short but she will occasionally grow it out long

- she has a few skateboards that she’s collected. Customizes all of them with different themes, paints, stickers

- the one she uses the most is a skateboard that matches in design and color to Leo’s (they have each others names painted on it-)

- frequents a lot of local cafes and pizza restaurants. She Became hueso’s favorite customer because she helped make sure leo didn’t cause too much trouble.

- likes singing, playing guitar, keyboard and drums. Has a secret notebook of songs she wrote

- when she’s older, she gets dozens of butterfly and bat themed tattoos across her back and arms

- Public displays of affection between her and leo and quite common and encouraged by each other. Either constantly holding hands, hugging, giving piggy back rides ect.

- she can speak, English, Spanish and Portuguese. She tries to teach leo Spanish and Portuguese. They also Occasionally talk to one another in Spanish.

- has a spot in her room for leo to come over and hang out, it’s a hammock area over by the window though most of the time he’s cuddling up to her while playing video games, reading comics ect. He likes to brag about it, and she just playfully rolls her eyes.

- loves insects all except for roaches. moths and butterflies are her favorite

- loves bats as well. Has a little miniature butterfly garden-like set up in her window so she could watch the bats come in

- Carries some type of water bottle on her, wether it be for herself, her sisters or the turtles. Has a bunch of stickers on said water bottle.

- banned leo from accessing the mini fridge in her room because he stole all the pizza bites out of it while she was taking a nap (he made up for it with ice cream)

- has her own space in the lair close to Leo’s whenever she comes over. She has a little tent with pillows and a mini tv she brought over to play games. Most of the time you’ll catch her just skateboarding around the lair, or sprawled out on a blanket pile with leo reading comics.

- Second place for queen of the fairy lights (she and so many in her room the electric bills are sobbing-)

- Leo definitely knows her hair routine and yes, he loves to help out. (He loves how soft her curls are) Draws little shapes with the products on her curls (she loves this goober enough not to gently thwack him with a towel for wasting her hair products)

- spraypainting is something she occasionally tries out, usually goes up to a random rooftop or vacant area where no one is gonna care before testing it out.

- leo does the face taps to her a lot. after she figured out what exactly that meant (girl was hella confused as to why he was doing that out of the blue) she started doing it to him back. And now it’s just a random thing they do when they see each other or whenever they want to (this turtle literally becomes a churring smug mess over her it’s embarrassing-)

- most of her clothes probably come from hot topic or small businesses

- always Carries her favorite snacks in her bag, gently bats Leo’s hands away when he tries to steal any of the pizza bites she bought (he tries to snatch them out of her hand when she is literally is about to eat it like boi you tryna die?-)

- Skye has a very small scar on her right eyebrow from when she fell off a horse as a kid. Claims it as her battle scar and feels it makes her look a little badass.

- Skilled in archery, volleyball and surfing. Mainly on the volleyball team and do surfing and archery as hobbies. Used to be on the archery club at her school but she didn’t like the overly competitive and overly strict rules placed on her shoulders so she quit the club

- her favorite two drinks are blueberry boba tea and mango milkshake. Got hooked on blueberry boba tea after Marcy and Angie dragged her to a boba shop to try some of the new drinks

- Has watched law and order enough to know the intro message word by word

- Competes in a local underground skateboarding competition, usually ends up in second place or first place most of the time

- Hangs out at the local roller skating rink or arcade when she’s not hanging out the turtles or her sisters

- Learned to paint her nails from her sister sunny. Mostly paints them green, blue or black in various hues and adds little designs on them to match her clothing

- Collects a lot of funky and unique jewelry (fuzzy worm earrings, cute clay rings, silver skull ear studs, a choker with a dangly atlas moth charm)

- loves to make beaded charm bracelets and rings. She has a whole collection and miniature drawer of bracelets and rings she made. Made her and leo a matching bracelet and ring set (he teases her over the rings being an early proposal before they confessed)

- Her and Angie are adopted (Skye was adopted when she was one year old around the same age as marcy, and Angie was adopted a year after she was) it doesn’t really bother her much nor does she or Angie think about it much

- Her favorite food to make is homemade pastel or homemade pizza (specifically cheese, Hawaiian or St. Louis)

- Hates the smell of broccoli when it’s cooking or steaming. Leo tried to make broccoli casserole as a prank to bring to Skye, and she stepped one foot into the lairs kitchen before immediately turning around and walking away. It physically makes her ill and the smell is one of her weaknesses

- makes the most random out of pocket comments when she’s sleepy. Like “where are penguins knees? Like are they doing squats the whole time” or “you think mothman has access to the internet?” And not forgetting “i wonder if I could ever use your shell as a boogie board leo?” Someone get this girl down for a nap-

- her and Leonardo have random movie nights or game nights either at the lair or at her and her sisters apartment both before they started dating and after they started dating/he confessed

- Her and Leo’s first date was at senor heuso’s pizza restaurant and afterwards they just sat on a rooftop to stargaze and watch some old lou jitsu movies

- Loves stargazing. Sitting on the roof or the fire escape with some blankets and her switch/ds. She’ll curl up in a makeshift hammock and just observe the stars she can see through the city lights. Her favorite place to stargaze is her grandparents farm, since there is little light pollution.

- Fav spot on her grandparents farm is this old house that was built in the 1600s, she made it into a makeshift clubhouse when she was little so it holds a lot of memories for her.

- She’s trying to learn how to cook better and in turn teaching leo how to cook (because this boi needs some guidance because the kitchen equipment cannot be replaced again)

- Trying to control her yokai abilities by training with the turtles. It’s kind of confusing for her since human form but having in human abilities kind of throws the brain for a loop, but she’s slowly getting there.

- After the kraang incident, Skye will just randomly come over to the lair or leo will come over to her and her sister’s apartment so she and him can just be in each others presence. Cuddles, video games, random talks or going on walks around the city. Just to know the other one is there and that they’re okay.

- always has an extra pair of headphones on her. Made different playlists for herself, family and friends

- she also has a whole collection of video games, from her favorites to vintage games she just wanted to collect, on another shelf in her room.

- has played in a few video game competitions here and there, though she’s just tries them out for fun.

- has a whole shelf of books she genuinely likes to read and re-read. Frequents the library more often than most people think

- Her and leo like to practice a lot of skating tricks together. It has become a competition at this point, and yes they both have folders on their phones labeled “top ten leo fails” or “top ten Skye fails” just for giggles

- got a lifetime pass to a spa in the hidden city from her mother (shhhh-don’t question how she got it, it’s a secret)

- Uses humor as a coping mechanism sometimes

- A lot of her and Leo’s dates are mostly just random places they feel like going to that night if they don’t want to have a home date. However they’re still meaningful to them. Just spending time together having fun and being happy matters enough to them

- Fav scent is coconut creamcicle or vanilla sea salt

- the one place she wants to visit is her grandmothers old home in Costa Rica

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt oc #rise oc #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #rise leonardo #rottmnt headcanons #oc x cannon #oc headcanons #writing

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margoteve · 1 year

Text

Wisdom tooth

Last post fic events one shot. I saw this one post about someone's shenanigans under the influence of anaesthesia so I just went "you know what? That's prime Kara bullshit lol" this is very much a crack story. Side note: I'm European so IDK fully how your clinics fully work. I HC Leo as poly bi. There's mention of it here.

Rating: T

Enjoy:

There were a lot of things that working a night shift at an emergency dental care got Timothy desensitized. He thought that by that point nothing could shake him. That was until a 7 feet tall turtle man walked in, carrying a tiny, grumpy-looking woman in his arms. He was holding her, under her arms as if she was a naughty cat. Just dangling there, resigned to her fate.

“Uuuuuhhh,” was all that came out of Timothy’s mouth as his eyes bulged out of his skull and his brain just refused to process for a second.

“Do you do emergency tooth extraction?” The turtle man asked.

“Ahwwa-,” Tim blinked a couple times before his training kicked in. “Yes, yes we do.”

“Excellent,” the creature sighed with relief. “She needs a removal.”

Timothy looked at the sulking woman. Her jaw was swollen and she clearly was in pain. She had tears in her eyes.

“How much is it?” The turtle man asked again.

“The, uh, the total cost is given after the surgery but it should be about 400 to 700$ depending on how difficult the procedure gonna be and how many teeth we're removing,” Tim recited the line.

“Alright,” the monster put down the lady, who stood on her own two feet, trembled and immediately reached for the creature’s hand. “She’s terrified of dentists and we, unfortunately, left her hearing aids at home. Is there anyone who knows ASL? Your site said there should be someone.”

At first, Tim thought this might have been some sort of weird kidnapping situation but the more he watched the odd couple he realized that he was very wrong.

“Yeah, I know some,” he nodded and pulled out some forms. He walked the man through the process and got the necessary details.

The turtle’s name was Donnie. It further humanized the creature in Tim’s eyes.

“Alright, that’s it,” Tim folded the papers. “I’ll get the doctor.”

“Right. Oh!” Donnie stopped him. “There’s something you need to know. I will need to leave so someone else will pick her up but," he placed both hands on Tim's shoulders looking very serious. "Do NOT leave her alone. She burns through anesthesia like crazy and will wake up sooner than you think,” he stressed his instructions. “Trust me.��

“Sure,” Tim replied, thinking that Donnie was overreacting.

He wasn’t.

Two hours and four wisdom teeth later, Kara, the tiny woman, was wheeled to the recovery room and left there to sleep off the anesthesia. They were expecting her to be out for about an hour maybe. How wrong they were.

About 15 minutes later Timothy had to intercept a very much out-of-it Kara, who was trying to enter the surgery room.

He grabbed her. <No, no,> he signed clearly in her face. <Stay here.> he sat her on the bed in the recovery room.

Five minutes later he had to stop her from going to the men’s bathroom and later she almost climbed up the medical garbage disposal.

Finally, someone came to pick the patient up.

“I’m here for the troublemaker,” she said.

Relieved by the arrival of the cavalry, Timothy couldn’t be happier to be free of Kara. He gave the woman named Cheryl all the prescriptions and instructions they would need and happily waved them both bon voyage.

He needed a career change.

Kara fell asleep in the car. She was snoring a storm when they got to the lair. Everyone decided it was for the best as drugged up Kara was chaos agent Kara… more than usual.

Unfortunately, Cheryl couldn’t pick up the painkillers. She had to race to the other side of town for some job emergency. Leo wasn’t home as he and his partners were spending that weekend together. Mikey was cut from the world busy mixing his next hit hip-hop album. Splinter was meditating, forbidding his sons from interrupting. Raph promised to look after the misfit while Donnie raced to April and ask her to get the meds before the menace woke up.

Assured that his big brother got it, Donnie left. Unfortunately, Murphy’s Law exists. Proximity alarm tripped and since Mikey was still in his own world Raph went to check it out.

That was the moment Kara woke up. Deciding she was feeling too hot she stripped and ventured into the lair only clad in underwear. She climbed the kitchen cabinets looking for food but decided in a brief spark of wisdom that consuming a whole packet of PopTarts might not be the best move after surgery. She got instead into the soda pulling out the last can of Raph’s favourite flavour. She tripped a little over the PopTart boxes she didn’t put back into the cabinets. On her way out of the kitchen, she saw Leo’s katanas.

Her drugged-up brain decided she was still hungry and it would be great to cut some cold pizza with the giant swords. It turned out to be awkward and definitely too big for her but she did it. With a slice in hand, she went to the leisure part of the lair and fired up the gaming console.

Half an hour later Donnie and Raph returned at the same time. They almost had the Spiderman stand-off but then saw their home.

“Oh gosh,” Donnie whined seeing the carnage. There were clothes strewn from his room to the kitchen. Leo’s katana, covered in cheese, stuck in a chair, PopTart boxes everywhere.

“How?!” Raph grabbed his head and raced to the kitchen where Kara left the fridge open. “DONNIE!!” He yelled horrified at the discovery.

Donnie’s blackboard was wiped clean with a large “SUCK IT, BITCHES” written across it. He rubbed a hand over his face. Good thing he always took photos of his formulas before leaving. Living with Mikey taught him to do that.

The TV was on with their latest video game. The one they have been trying to pass for weeks. With a victory screen in clear display.

“I’ll be damned,” he whispered, impressed then chuckled and shook his head.

He found the menace curled up in his bed, wrapped up in his biggest hoodie, softly snoring. She looked so innocent. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“You are so lucky, I love you,” he whispered.

She stirred but didn't wake up, turning on her side. So cute. Like a kitten.

“Wow, guys, what happened here?” Mikey finally emerged from his Mikey cave.

"Kara on drugs, is what," Raph informed him. "I swear we should have put her in jail when we had the chance."

Donnie came out of his room and started picking up Kara's things. “Come on guys, let’s clean up before Leo gets home."

"You owe me soda, man!" Raph grumbled, yanking Leo's katana out of the chair. He almost tripped on his ass as it was released.

"Hey, Donnie?" Mikey called from the other end of the lair lifting a pair of red panties up.

Donnie slapped a hand over his face. Yup. She was so lucky she was cute.

Tag list:

@madammuffins

#donnie x oc #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2016 #bayverse donatello #eve writes stuff #apologies for my general bullshit

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garnet-xx-rose · 1 year

Note

About you asking for Christine x Erik asks: Yes, hello. For the love of god hi! Please tell me more about your head canon for their dynamic in general (or whatever you want to talk about) but also imagine Erik’s reaction if Christine ever takes up sword fighting. The man would be going feral with how much he is simping. Would probably write a whole Opera about how glorious Christine looks while skewering her practice dummy dhajasnsn this is not at all inspired by that one pirate Christine art

My hc for Erik and Christine’s relationship varies, its kinda complicated. For example, Ramin and Sierra’s interpretation I find the most shippable and enjoy pondering about post-Final Lair. So if we’re just talking about Erik x Christine in the ALW-verse, I’m basing it off RAH, cause I love what they do with the characters. I love how touchy Erik and Christine are, I love how messy it is, I love *that* ending even though it hurts my soul, I LOVE how awkward Erik is. Ramin’s Erik is so awkward, but it’s also sexy and I feel like him and Christine would have some interesting conversations and soft moments if shit didn’t go bad so quick. I think watching RAH made me so frustrated (in a good way) because they look so beautiful together but ERIK MY DUDE, please just have a normal conversation with this woman and not jump to conclusions.

But at the same time, Emilie is without a doubt my favorite interpretation of Christine, while Ramin is still my favorite phantom. So, in like Modern AU situations, I’ve been basing my writing ideas off of their Erik and Christine being together, which I think would be a lot of fun: Ramin’s nerdy and reserved but passionate Erik vs Emilie’s warm, confident and excitable Christine. Erik does his sardonic theatrics and Christine’s like “Ok that was something but do you wanna go to Target with me to get groceries?

BUT ALSO: I do like Christine and Erik’s with an age gap. A good 10-15 years. Like Christine being 23+ and Erik mid 30s to early 40s. Before people start coming at me. As someone who’s in her early 20s that finds older people hella attractive but wouldn’t want to date them cause of the obvious power imbalance, enjoying Christine and Erik fills that gap. I love fics where even though Christine is younger, she has a strong grip on Erik and has a lot of power in the dynamic. Watching men, be deeply in love with women is a passion of mine, and I think they fit it in really well. Also love an older Erik that’s a bit husky in shape. Giving DILF real ness.

Overall though, these attributes exist in all my Erik x Christine dynamic hcs:

-Christine is very outspoken

-Erik is a simp

-Christine is trying out new hobbies and ways to express herself (sword fighting, dying and chopping off her hair) so that she can have an identity outside of music

-Erik is her #1 supporter in her endeavors

-They’re attraction to each other can be overwhelming, and it’s what causes initial conflict. They get lost in each other to the point they ignore other relationships and their friends confront them about it. Erik doesn’t understand the problem but its Christine who explains why its not healthy or sustainable for them

-Erik has a lot of issues and is also doing everything in his power to manage his problems. He often struggles with Christine choosing him and has a lot of insecurities, but he doesn’t put that on Christine and instead is learning to use other avenues for stress-relieving than Christine or music. He talks a lot more with Daroga and takes up non-music hobbies like cooking and crochet. (Now when he’s having a bad time, he makes a mean triple chocolate cookie)

-Christine is healing from her grief and it’s a emotional process: She misses her Dad but also realizes that her childhood wasn’t the most stable. She realizes that she’s been looking for this stability in her relationships, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, she’s uncomfortable being with herself. So, she’s learning how to exist in her own.

- Erik and Christine are messy, but they love each other and they love their unique connection. Both are committed to putting the work to make this last.

And heck yeah, love Pirate Christine so much!

#erik/christine #christine daae #erik #poto #e/c #Christine x Erik #shipping thoughts #asks

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babydarkstar · 3 years

Text

cacoethes

part two: bring your sweet loving

rating: E (18+ ONLY) || pairing: ezra x f!reader || word count: 10.5k

chapter summary: as the night winds down and tensions simmer, we learn more about you, pieces of your past, and your relationship with ezra.

warnings: ezra’s gigantic mouth that won’t shut up (suggestive language) and two criminals not knowing how to act; caretaking, i guess? reader cleans ezra but it’s nothing erotic; SMUT; handjob and graphic depictions of a glorious dick; dirty talk; dubcon maybe bc painkillers but he’s enthusiastic abt it; praise kink; switches having a great time; ezra’s subby in this but i promise he’s a dom too just not tonight; mentions of death, killing, tattoos, scars; mention of past drug use, bad coping mechanisms; mm i hc that ezra is a tiny tattoo guy so there’s that; fluff bc im sweet; author is a southern peach, forgive her if it gets a little slow and twangy up in here

a/n: un-beta’d bc mistakes are sexy. i’ll go back later and fix whatever i find but for now. enjoy. i’m literally just making shit up about this universe as we go but it’s working out for the best so bear with me. lmk if u want me to add u to be tagged here. tagging: @pedros-mustache @jk7789

crossposted to ao3 :) || playlist || one || two || three

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

“Here, Cee,” you said, adjusting the threadbare blanket over your cot and splaying a hand over it while she eyed you from across the tent, still standing amongst the carnage of a violent field surgery, “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

The poor girl was scared. Well—not scared, not anymore.

Vengeful, for certain, though it seemed to dwindle with every minute she watched you interact.

Definitely wary of the two of you.

Which was appropriate, given that Ezra had killed her father and left her alone on an uninhabitable moon, only to be scooped up by his partner and deceived into thinking she was safe, and then forced to perform impromptu surgery to hack off an arm. But she appeared more wary to accept help from you than wary of you.

And honestly, if Ezra hadn’t just lost a limb and you didn’t want to hover beside him after not seeing him for a month to make sure he didn’t slip the veil in his sleep or disappear beneath your fingertips—and if you weren’t trying to earn her trust, you’d have made her take the floor.

But things were different now, they might always be. She had saved his life. You owed her your cot to sleep on.

“Wait,” Ezra said, swallowing thickly as he blinked, seeming to just process the words you had spoken, “You think so little of me that I’d let you sleep on the dirt after the day you’ve had? Now, I agree that our guest should find comfort in a cot of her own, but I will not deny you the simple respite of sleep. That would prove me an unworthy companion.”

“Ezra,” you said, giving him a look of incredulity that seeped into your tone, “You can’t be serious.”

He eyed you and clenched his jaw, still stomaching the fact that he had one less limb to worry about, and a bunch more problems to deal with. It was a look that told you he was not arguing with you, you were going to sleep on the cot. He would not be coddled like a child just because he lost an arm.

Which was, in itself, ridiculous. You didn’t plan to coddle him—you weren’t the type, not really. But. He’d lost a fucking arm. But he was also still delirious from the anesthetic, so that didn’t help his desire to prove something to the universe.

“You’re taking the cot, I’m not having this conversation,” you said, wiping his sweaty brow with your sleeve, “Tap into the ruthless outlaw inside of you and take it without regret. You know I hardly sleep anyways, I’ll live without a bed for the night.”

“Then I must insist you share it with me, precious angel,” he sighed, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as his distant gaze darkened into something hungry, “I’ve longed to feel your body pressed against mine since I left with Number Two. The divinity of your skin.” He hummed, eyes fluttering shut, “More…more precious than the ore we risk our lives for. Sweeter than fruit. Fresher than a rainstorm.”

“Ez,” you warned, snapping a glare at him.

“Your body…so tender, warm,” he continued, entranced in his own fantasy, not even hearing you when you warned him yet again, “All soft and pliant beneath my touch. It has been far too long since we partook in a pleasure as indulgent as one another—before our partnership with Two, if I can recall. Grant me heaven tonight. I deserve the satisfaction of watching you drip honey for me—”

“Hey! None of that,” you snapped, cocking an eyebrow—and fighting the flutter in your chest and the heat tingling down your core, “There are young ears present, Shakespeare Erotica. Not to mention young eyes.”

You would do no such thing with him as long as this teenager remained in close quarters and under your care. He turned to look at Cee, as if he’d forgotten all about her for a moment. Or maybe it was that he didn’t care. Bastard.

“I’m okay as long as you guys don’t fuck in front of me,” Cee sighed, resigned to have dealt with too much in her past to be worried about flirting—no, verbal-fucking.

“We won’t be doing any of that,” you assured her, giving Ezra another pointed look before slinging his arm around your shoulders and helping him to the cot. He grumbled incoherently, moaning and groaning the few steps it took to ease him down into the squeaky frame.

When you finally got him down—forced him to lay down—he let out another soft whimper of pain, followed by your name. “Don’t go.”

Brushing the hair off his sweaty forehead, you bent down to press a kiss there, “M’right here, Ez. Rest. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

It was the least you could do—and that way you could take inventory of every inch of him to ensure he didn’t have any other wounds hiding and festering and threatening his life. Just as this wouldn’t be your first time tending to him while he laid incapacitated, he’d done the same for you plenty of times. There was very little, if anything at all, the two of you hadn’t seen of each other. Vulnerability had another name here: normalcy.

“After—” he rasped up at you, coughing and then righting himself, “After we find our way off this Kevva-damned moon—which we will—I understand if you no longer deem me…worthy of your affections. It’s the only explanation I can find for your denial of my offer to dote on you. I only pray you make good on your long-standing promise to drop me where I stand should I ever disappoint you, dear heart of mine.”

Okay, you didn’t know where all the insecurity and sentiment was coming from, especially hearing it from the mouth of your dear old confident mean-streak Ezra, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It made you ache to think that he didn’t trust you to stay with him, that he viewed himself as lesser because he lost his arm. Well, he was lesser, but only by mass.

Also, really? The only explanation he could find for you not wanting to sleep with him was that you hated him and didn’t want him because of his injury? He couldn’t think of any more glaringly obvious reasons, those of which had just been pointed out to him?

With a sigh, you brushed your thumb across the silvery scar on his cheek, “Rest now, chatterbox. I’ll be here when you wake up—and every morning after, for as long as I can. Only death could pry you from me, and me from you. You’ve got me, forever….I still see you as you are—a hundred percent you, a hundred percent mine.”

The words felt foreign on your lips, but he was bound to forget them the moment he fell asleep, so you didn’t feel as weird waxing poetic right back at him. The man had rubbed off on you in more ways than one. You normally didn’t speak to one another so frankly—at least, you didn’t, given the nature of what it meant to care out here and how you’d already unofficially established that you two were something more—but tonight you couldn’t fucking help it.

Ezra leaned into your touch, pawing at it with his hand, grabbing onto your fingers and kissing into your palm. A dull smile poked at his mouth and he let it engulf him. “Quite the charmer you are, siren.”

You didn’t respond, only half-smiled and wriggled—reluctantly—from his grasp to grab a few clean cloths and fill a bucket with water. After squirting the sanitizing solution in the water, you simmered the lights down to the lowest setting, to where your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you could make your way across the tent. His gaze bore into you—no, both Ezra and Cee watched every move you made; one in lazy admiration and the other in curiosity.

“Do you need me to put a drape over the post? I’m strippin’ him,” you asked Cee as you slung Ezra’s clean shirt from off the drying line onto your shoulder—you smiled at the floor, thanking yourself from hours ago for deciding not to burn it. You grabbed the bucket and tottered over to him, nodding at him to scoot. He obliged, giving you room to sit by his hip so you could ease his clothes off.

Cee shook her head when you looked to her for a response, opting to sit on your cot facing away from you with her nose in her book, so you shrugged and tugged the fabric off of Ezra in slow, deliberate motions, wincing every time he grunted.

As you took the time to clean off the grime and dirt and sweat of the Green, he told you about running into Cee and her father Damon; how he tried to take his entire harvest from the few cycles he’d spent with Two; about Two’s untimely, irrational outburst that cost them their life. About the Queen’s Lair and the mercs, and the plan to ravage and plunder and take it all for themselves. You thought the Queen’s Lair was a rumor. Not even a rumor—a myth, a legend, something fabricated by desperate fools with hazy minds of dust and their eyes set on fortune. But Ezra told you he’d seen part of it marked on Cee’s map, that her father was contracted to help extract the deposit. Cee even pulled her map out to point to the marked areas, albeit with clinical movements and short words.

So you made a plan to head out at first light, with the trip taking most of the daylight, and they’d be cutting it close but there was no way you’d let Ezra hike so many klicks in his state—not without a few hours’ rest first.

After you’d managed to clean his legs, his hips, his feet and get him into something more comfortable than compression pants, you moved to his torso and traced over each scar marring his skin, each jagged edge where something hadn’t healed right or wasn’t stitched properly. He’d lost some weight under the harsh conditions of the Green—you both had. But he still held onto muscle from the toil that came with survival on such harsh terrain; and he was naturally broad, he always would be, which made him sturdy.

Your fingers ghosted over a few microtattoos he’d gotten; one beneath his ribcage, one on his hipbone, and the one you’d given him yourself on his lower sternum. That one, as you brushed over it with a wet cloth, never failed to make you smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

A tiny, unfilled heart, a mere outline, barely a centimeter in size. It was messy, simple, done in minutes. But it meant something, meant exactly what you’d never quite been able to voice.

My heart is yours. Take it.

You’d done it one night when the two of you had gone on a two spin bender, which happened more towards the end of your glory days, when the drugs came easy and heavy and the illusion of time slipped by like sand on the wind.

Any time someone hired your services as cleaners, it took a toll. They didn’t do it often because of that, but the payout was worth the work. No matter how many times you swore you would never do it again, you went back. Because it was hard to ignore the way it felt to flood a deserving someone’s mouth with the taste of their own blood, or to slip a knife in between their ribs and let it slide like butter and watch the light die. It was hard to ignore that you liked it, especially when it was so violent—one of the worst sins to commit, and you enjoyed it.

The act of killing had become cathartic for you. It made you feel more alive, reminded you that you had a beating, bloody heart, and a brain, and veins that pumped blood, and muscles that tore apart and rebuilt themselves stronger. Killing came easy when you didn’t know the target. It felt like a game.

Ezra didn’t enjoy it as much as you did—not to say he didn’t enjoy it at all, for he most certainly did. But he didn’t process it the same way you did. He saw killing as a means to survive and a means to get where he needed to go. He enjoyed turning it into a game, making fun out of whatever circumstance presented itself.

But that one—the last one—it had gone wrong. Messy, slow, noisy, choppy. There was only supposed to be one person in the house: typical target, a man who owed the wrong people a whole lot of money and refused to pay up.

One man.

One man was all you’d expected.

One man was all you’d been instructed would be in the condo.

He went down easy enough, quiet enough—Ezra snuffed him and stuffed him and you’d made to transfer his points into the right pockets.

And that was that.

They had tossed the bodybag over the high-rise balcony and into the pits of the bottomless highway next to the building, with a blinker-bomb inside just in case.

That was that.

Except it wasn’t, it was so fucking far from it.

Ezra, being himself, had wanted so bad to sneak in a quickie before heading back—an unholy, immoral ritual you two had initiated, to fuck where you killed—and who were you to protest? Who were you to say no to pretty words and soft eyes glittering with an untamed wild? To say no to the hands that already ripped at gear and pushed beneath underwear just to get a taste—you couldn’t, it was impossible.

Fresh off a high of adrenaline, pulsing with nervous energy—he was always so good, he always got you right where you needed and then that much further.

And Ezra—being himself—could not keep his fucking mouth shut. The stereotype about men holding in their moans, about them never whimpering or whining or groaning or grunting—yeah, that was a load of Bearkie-shit.

Maybe it held true for some men, but.

Not your Ezra. Not even a little bit.

He talked like heaven’s mouthpiece—or maybe the devil, given all the sinful things he’d whisper to you in the crux of any given night. He let loose whatever noise he deemed necessary to make.

They’d only just made it to the dried, bloody stain on the carpet (a bed on which to copulate), knocking over a floating hilolamp and pulling a chuckle from your paramour, when a shout rang through the apartment and shattered your moment into a thousand pieces.

It was only supposed to be one. One man.

Instead, you were met with another man who you’d later learn to be his brother, the target’s mother, and his pregnant wife.

The man held onto some type of curved sports bat, keeping it up threateningly as if warning you of something imposing. Ezra didn’t hesitate to shoot him in the head, not even bothering to get up from where he’d pressed his hips between your legs. But then you’d had to go and check the other rooms, effectively killing any mood the two of you had shared.

Because fuck, where the men had no fight in them, the women wouldn’t go down without a struggle. Or maybe it was that you pitied them, and it distracted you. They’d already peeked their heads out from behind the door of the master bedroom, worried and doe-eyed and determined.

Maybe if they hadn’t seen your faces—if they’d still been asleep while you swept for warm bodies after the first assailant—maybe they’d have gotten out with their lives. But who were you kidding? You killed without thought. You’d likely have put a pillow over their heads before aiming your thrower and firing twice for good measure, had you been sharp and not distracted by a tongue in your mouth.

Instead, Ezra had the audacity to try to bargain with them. Something about having a soft spot for mothers—his own having been a beacon in his life until she left him orphaned as a young boy. He made it a point not to kill women and children. It was one thing in which he remained unwavering. (He’d kill a grown woman if she gave him reason to, like he had on Exon-5, but that was another story for another time, and a different circumstance which called for such measures, namely that of protecting you.) But he should have known better, he should have known not to try something like that. He should’ve known that he’d have to let go of the final shred of morality he held onto.

So Ezra took down the old woman in a way you still have yet to ask about and don’t care to know; and you’d ended with the pregnant woman choking on her own blood when you twisted your knife into the dip of her throat—and you felt awful about it after watching her crumble beneath you, but she’d hit you upside the head with a thick textbook of outdated skimmer-craft modules and it made you see red among pinpricks of stars.

And that night, after all was said and done they’d spent a fortune on getting high—just to forget, just to be okay.

That night they’d locked themselves in a self-imposed prison of satin sheets and destructive tendencies. Two days buzzing with no food, little water, just him and you and needles and spoons and eyedroppers and blades and pills. Like you couldn’t breathe if he didn’t fill you with all of him, you wouldn’t be able to stand upright if he took his hands off you and stopped letting you flood your veins with a chemical glow. Heavy eyelids, messy sex, raw arms and red eyes.

It felt fucking awful, coping that way, but it felt too fucking good and it made you forget about the lives you’d taken in (somewhat) cold blood.

So after sprawling beside him on the gigantic plush bed with his hand ghosting over your spine, you’d found a part of yourself snagged at the corner of this wild-eyed man’s tar-black soul, and you had thought about what could have happened in an alternate universe.

A moment when he was the target, you were (somehow) the pregnant wife, and you watched him die before succumbing to the dark of your own soul escaping you. And it made you desperate to cling to him as he was in the moment, desperate to know that he was yours and you were his. It was then that you’d asked him if you could mark him. Claim him, to know that he wouldn’t leave you like that, and if he did, he’d have a piece of you everywhere. He’d go down with a piece of you.

Ezra had been delighted, of course, as he was always one for symbolism and deeper meaning even if he didn’t quite understand the rhetoric. And it wasn’t the first time you’d marked each other, just a different time with a different meaning. So he let you dip a sterile needle in ink and plunge it into the tender skin of his chest.

You had one too, a heart on your sternum. Nestled between your breasts, just close enough to your heart to feel like it mattered, like it meant that he felt the same. But you didn’t even let yourself go that far—you two were doped up and delirious and he enjoyed marking you in any way he could, so an opportunity to stick and poke his way further into your skin than he already had was an opportunity he could not pass up. At least, that was how you saw it. Nevertheless, it made you happy to see it there on his chest, and to have one that matched.

Ezra’s soft voice snapped you from the memory.

“What’s crossed your mind to make you so delicate in your touch, so solemn in your stare?”

You realized you had stopped your ministrations and had planted your palm on his chest, staring just over his shoulder and onto the canvas beside him. With a careful hand, you resumed gentle motion over his pecs, up his clavicle, his throat.

“Thinking about Beta-Mobilia,” you whispered, unable to meet his eye, “And after.”

“Mm,” he grunted in recognition, the vibration tickling your fingertips, “Regrettable night. Unavoidable, necessary. But I dwell in shame identical to yours.”

“I don’t deserve to be here after that. I didn’t deserve to live after the Exons, The Grime. Why am I still alive?”

“We’ve discussed this in great length by now, siren. Don’t doubt your existence. It’s beyond sense, beyond comprehension.”

You nodded, still unable to look at him. But then he latched onto your wrist, brushing his calloused thumb over the delicate skin there, and this time you couldn’t keep your gaze away from the soft smile that begged to form on his lips.

“And I appreciate your tender care, wildfire,” he hummed, eyes glittering up at you like two dark pools of amber, “Where would I be without it? Mmm…mhm. Dead, likely. Or bitter. Wicked with taciturn rage. No meaning could come from that.”

“You, bitter and unspeaking? Unthinkable, I’d sooner pronounce you dead,” you drawled, thankful for his kindness to grant distraction, and he granted you an eye-roll. But his expression softened when you sat him upright and maneuvered behind him, wiping down his back in gentle strokes. You folded the cloth over once the side turned brown with grime, and moved up to his neck, scrubbing over his shoulders and giving short strokes down his nape and behind his ears.

“So you planned to go ravage the Queen without me, huh?” you asked quietly, irked that he hadn’t even come to find you before setting out on that venture, “Planned to leave me to rot on the Green, take the money for yourself and steal away with the girl.”

Ezra sighed, and you could see from behind his shoulder how he worked his jaw, formulating what to say.

“Understand that I do nothing without you willingly. Birdie over there’s about as fleeting as a real one. But trust that I planned to come get you—I’d never leave you stranded. I just couldn’t introduce another person into the threadbare alliance I had forged until the time was right.”

“She likes me,” you countered, smiling over at Cee, who now laid with her back facing you as her ribs contracted with the first breaths of sleep. A sign of trust. You didn’t know when exactly you’d earned it, but you’d accept it nonetheless. She had also taken both of your throwers (something you protested and Ezra waved off), so maybe that helped.

“No doubt—there’s plenty to like about you.”

Ever the flatterer, even when delirious with pain.

With a coy smile, you scrubbed over his head and then his face, careful to avoid his snapping mouth that reached out ever so often to nip at your hand—there was that playfulness, the natural effervescence of his presence. When you decided your work was done, you eased him back down on the cot and he allowed it with no protest.

You fluffed his pillow and moved the book you’d stashed beside it. He turned his head and pressed his nose to the pillow, grunting in mild appreciation.

“Smells like you down here,” he remarked with a half-smile, eyes drooping, “You sleep on my cot while I was away?”

“I missed you,” you whispered, nodding, just now aware of how much his presence affected you. To think that you had resolved to try to move on without him—it seemed ridiculous now.

“I missed you,” he returned, “You haven’t the slightest idea how much I wanted you beside me. Number Two was a fond ally but not a companion. Nothing like the banter we exchange, nor the secrets we share.”

“They never talked. I imagine your time away was just as lonely as mine.”

“Absolutely. I regret agreeing to leave with Two. But you know we couldn’t have trusted them to stay at camp while we went off—not absolutely. Not when they’d never spoken a word,” he chuckled and then coughed, a quiet rumble you felt against your leg as it zigzagged through his chest.

Thank Kevva you had a plan to leave now. The spent filter had taken a toll on Ezra—and it wasn’t even his to begin with. He insisted on giving you his when the one your new suit came with was almost completely used up.

Fuck the man for caring about you; he’d gone soft during your time on the Green, and you hated how much you loved it. Hated it because he needed to focus on himself, needed to stop putting you before him. Hated it because every day it made you feel like somehow, he loved you back. That somehow, he thought of you as more than just a constant in his life, more than a body to fuck and a brain to pick.

You’d grown used to each other. But his unpredictability oozed into every aspect of himself, every nook and cranny of his life, and you were too worried about fucking up a good thing over a simple conversation. All it took was one sensitive topic breached and you’d surely find yourself shit out of luck. He was all you had left of the scraps of a fucked up life. Without him, you’d make do but not without a struggle and not without reluctance. Some part of you knew he’d be the same even if he initiated a split.

The thought had you hurrying to tug his shirt on before gathering the cloths and scurrying to place the bucket near the front of the tent.

And you shouldn’t have been so scared to be honest with him—the two of you rarely kept things to yourselves. But to love someone so fully within your heart, to never want to be away from them, to never grow tired of their presence no matter how tedious they may be or frustrating they could get, it scared you.

“A kiss for the wounded?” Ezra asked, brown eyes wide and mouth pouty enough to break you from your racing mind. You softened then, padding back over to him on tiptoe and settling back at his side for a brief moment.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to grant him a kiss to his lips—the first one you’d shared with him in fuck knows how long. Too long, that was for sure, because when your lips notched with his chapped ones you melted, every worry and every qualm simply washed away in a swirl of pink pleasure.

You couldn’t help yourself—an indulgent, quiet moan pooled in your chest and slipped from your throat before you could stop it, and he hummed right back when his tongue pushed between your lips and you let him devour you. Always the ravager, ever a greedy bastard when it came to his pleasure, he licked up into your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours. It took very little for you to melt right into his chest, pressing your own against him and whimpering when he sneaked his hand up the hem of your shirt to rub circles over the skin of your back. You remained sloppy and almost lazy but intentional as you held either side of his nape and toyed with the strands of his still-damp hair, pouring yourself into this kiss like you’d never kiss him again.

Fuck. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. You missed this man with every vibrating inch of you. You missed his body, you missed his voice calling to you from the very depths of himself, you missed everything about him, and you needed him as close as possible. Closer than close, you needed him.

But fuck. You couldn’t. When you pulled back for air, it didn’t surprise you when he pressed his palm flat on your back to keep you from moving too far.

“Mm, baby—you’re divine. I ache for you,” he all but whimpered into your mouth, breath brutally hot and heavy as he fed you his soul, “Come sit down on me—come take what’s yours. I want to feel you strangle me, show me just how much you—”

“No, Ez,” you cut him off in a biting whisper, lips kiss-swollen, hating how, if there had been literally any other person in the tent beside you, you might’ve taken him up on the offer, “I want to, I promise you that. But she’s a kid and I have limits—one of those limits is fucking in the same room as one.” You glared at him with half a heart, then leaned down to run the tip of your nose along the curve of his ear, smiling when he shivered, “I swear, once we get out of here I’ll make it up to you so many times you’ll forget your own name. You get first choice—however you want me, I’m yours to take.”

“Fuck—alright, I apologize for my eagerness,” he smiled, tilting his head to kiss your forehead.

“But,” you whispered, your heart racing as you glanced over to be sure Cee had fallen asleep before inching up to look back into his eyes. Fuck it, he deserved it. “If you stay quiet, I’ll take care of you right now.”

His eyebrows raised in deft interest at your offer.

“Will you let me take care of you, Sailor?”

Ezra would never admit it, and you’d never tease him about it because it made you feel some kind of way—but he fucking adored when you used his callsign. You were his siren, after all. Only made sense for him to draw to you like a dying man at sea when you called for him. You used it rarely aside from in the field, opting for your preferred chatterbox—because he was more that than anything else—so it came as a treat when you decided to pull it from your bag of tricks.

“I can hardly refuse such a tempting offer.”

“Quiet, though,” you reminded him, tiptoeing your fingers across his chest and tugging the waistband of his pants and his underwear down. Just enough to spring his cock free, which was already hard and leaking for you.

Fuck, he was such a gorgeous sight, and you couldn’t help the urge to cup his balls and nudge them free too, to admire every glorious inch of him.

Spreading your fingers out over his groin through the coarse curls gone wild with mistreatment, you paid extra attention to the white patch of hair ghosting over the base of his cock and spreading out near his abdomen before stopping abruptly on the left and diverging back down into dark brown. You remember when you’d first noticed it and had all but squealed in delight.

Every bit of him was a pleasant surprise, just as you’d found yourself more than eager to let him ruin you for anybody else with the sheer size of him.

Nobody fucked you like they were dying and you were salvation; nobody but him. And shit, did he tear you open. As if he’d carved a space inside of you just for him, each time he’d leave you with a hollow ache that only he could sate.

“Baby,” you purred in a whisper, kissing his hipbone and then leaning up to wrap your hand around the girth of him, rubbing your thumb over the weeping red of the head, “You’re so pretty for me like this.” Forever a glutton for compliments, he whimpered his soft appreciation and you hushed him accordingly. He was so thick, so big that you struggled to touch the tip of your middle finger to your thumb, so long that if you had planned to swallow him down tonight, you would’ve been needing your hand to help. But tonight you could not risk the absolutely filthy noise of you gagging on him; he’d likely cum faster and in less time to worry about waking up a certain tentmate, but you wanted to watch every muscle in his face twitch, wanted to see him take his pleasure unobstructed by your tears. This way was quieter.

So with that thought in mind, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs so you could watch him without tiring your hand in an awkward position. Then you let a string of spit drool down and over him and you gave him a twist and then more, sharp and sudden and fast in your movements as opposed to the slow, appreciative way you’d unsheathed him.

Ezra hissed out a curse, bucking up into your hand, “Shit, darlin’—“

Arching an eyebrow, you halted your work on him immediately. His pulse beat through the throbbing vein jutting out

“What did I tell you?” you snapped. With your free hand you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his neck, feeling the column of his throat contracting as he swallowed. Wide brown eyes looked up at you, a tinge of amusement in their stare.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” you asked in a low rasp, tightening your grip on his neck and giving him a little shake before going slack again, “I don’t wanna hear a single word come outta that pretty-boy mouth. If I do, I’m blue-balling you. Fair?”

Ezra nodded, his gorgeous fat mouth blessedly shut for once.

“Good boy,” you cooed, kissing him before forcing his jaw open and spitting in his mouth. It would’ve been cruel but you meant it so affectionately, and his gentle moan told you he was more than willing to accept it.

You felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers and you simpered, giving a little shimmy of your shoulders in appreciation.

Controlling this stubborn man, resorting him to silence made you feel powerful. It made you feel respected, worshipped; if the man who never shut up and always called the shots would gladly take the backseat and grant you the power to take charge, that meant more than you could wish for.

So you resumed pumping his cock, working him with both hands and then switching to hold onto his throat again before going back to two hands. The act still made quite some noise—filthy and wet and sloppy—but at this point you were less concerned about it than you had been prior. When you decided, despite his tip dripping precum, to spit down onto him again for the fun of it and twist him with a gentle tug, he couldn’t stop the whine that left him even with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It had you darting to clamp over his mouth, shooting daggers down at him as he stared up with a silent apology in his eyes, one you might have taken as genuine if not for the way the brown of his irises had disappeared into black, blown out with lust and glassy with pleasure.

“If you’re gonna cum, let me know so you can do it in my mouth. I just cleaned you up and I’m not doing it again.”

The last bit came out harsher than you meant but he took it all the same, biting back a grunt in the form of a sharp exhale as he twitched violently in your hand. Yeah, he didn’t really need to let you know when he was about to blow; you knew him too well. At that, you took it upon yourself to remove your hand from his mouth in favor of scooting to lean down and put your mouth over his angry, swollen tip, flinching at the way the frame creaked but ignoring it and opting to swirl your tongue over him instead.

“There it is,” you whispered with an arguably evil smile—quickly, before pulling him back into the heat of your mouth, resuming your work and grunting when he bucked up into your mouth, chasing the high you were drawing out of him.

Ezra came with a muffled, broken sob, his face buried in his arm as he bit down on his bicep, flexing and squeezing his fingers. A thick stream of his cum hit the roof of your mouth and you indulged him, taking him in further so you could swallow everything he gave you. Ropes and ropes and ropes of cum, like he hadn’t let himself get off in so long, like he’d been saving all of it for you. The thought made you whine around him, and you pulled off when he finished, flashing him your dripping tongue with his spend still on it and drawing it back in before any of it could spill.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighed, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh as he tugged on the front of your shirt to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue.

This time when you pulled back and smiled, you granted him a toothy grin, goofy and knowing. It took you a minute not to giggle like a little kid as you carded your fingers through his hair. He grinned right back, still catching his breath. To you, he was gorgeous, inside and out, flaws and all. You wanted to fuck him right then. You wanted to make love to him, to let him fill you entirely and to sob into his mouth, showing him everything you couldn’t tell him.

“Get some sleep,” you settled on instead, slipping off the cot with little grace after replacing the waistband of his pants, “We head out early tomorrow.”

“Hey now, what about you?” Ezra asked, brows drawn together in concern that you wouldn’t find the same enjoyment he did.

“You’ll just owe me.” You winked then, and gave him one last kiss, which he hummed into with a great appreciative rumble.

Then you pressed your forehead into his, “Mine—you’re mine. Never leave me again or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. You’re everything.”

Because he was.

“Nothing without you.”

That was his response, always always always. To hear it again pricked tears in your eyes, so much so you squeezed them shut.

And once again, you caught yourself wanting to say it. This time it had ghosted in your throat, almost making it into the curve of your mouth for you to hold its shape and give voice to a thought. But you stopped it before it could get far. Those three words, the same ones that now haunted you since you’d decided to indulge in every reminiscence involving them. Somehow he had come back to you, a feat which could not be commended enough, but now you ached for him—yearned for him even stronger than if he had well and truly died.

As you settled down onto the floor beside him, those three torturous words surfaced into a memory. The one that, among other fears, made you ever so hesitant to admit just how much you loved him.

————————————

“—In that vein, I don’t find myself in particular need of a great, star-shattering love story. If love is all-encompassing, I can do without the obstacle. Romanticizing my life and its quarrels is satisfaction enough.”

You didn’t know why you were still listening. You just knew that if Ezra kept it up, you’d find a way out of this cell just to break into his and strangle him. Anything to get him to shut the hell up. Banging your head methodically against the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t even try to hold back your groan of displeasure as he rambled on.

“Now, don’t doubt my skill in worship. I have plenty of practice in the art of copulation”—you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face—“To say I haven’t affixed my interests on one soul or another at some point in time would ordain me a liar. I simply prefer to remain lovers in action…and not in name nor feeling. Companionship…yes, it’s something we all yearn for. It can’t be helped. A warm body, a brain to pick. All wonderful facets to enjoy for the sake of one’s own baser desiderata. But—“

“Shut up,” you bit out through gritted teeth, tugging at the roots of your hair when he kept going and you had to repeat yourself, “Shut up, you goddamned chatterbox. I don’t give a fuck about your love life. Why are you even talking about this?”

A brief silence occupied the space, as if he was thoroughly perplexed by your outburst. Then he let out a huffed laugh, amused.

“You inquired about the specifics of my occupation, little thorn.”

Every time he used that nickname for you—the thorn in my side—it made you bristle. Especially when he used it almost affectionately, soothingly, full of calm and charm that had you balling your fists and pricking the skin of your palms with your fingernails. You despised him, and he treated your existence as a joke, or as a little pet he would grab from its cage and admire before tossing it back and neglecting it until he deemed its presence acceptable again. Everything was funny. Everything could be laughed at. Sometimes you didn’t mind when the guards came to beat him bloody; it made him shut up, whether from pain or because he had passed out.

“Prospecting has nothing to do with love,” you snapped, shoulders tense despite the ache in your body. If these fuckers holding you captive didn’t kill you, the stress of surviving next to this fucker surely would.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, suddenly serious, “Love for others, at least. Love for the dig, love for the hunt and the adventure—that’s a different narrative altogether. Which is why I deemed it appropriate to explain such measures. The lifestyle I settled for is no small undertaking. It comes with sacrifice.”

His condescension was unintentional but still stabbed and poked at you like keepers at a circus.

————————————

It comes with sacrifice. That it did.

That long-ago night haunted you to this day.

But Ezra had his mind focused on softer dreams as he broke you from your self-destruction once more.

“Nights like these make me keen to hear you sing for me again,” he lilted out through the dark, a reminiscent simper pulling at his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he shifted to look down at you, “The melody of your voice haunts the halls of my midnight reveries. But it is such a sweet possession—as though I willed a ghost to enchant me with her gift. A siren indeed. Lure me into the sea of your deception, try to pull me under like the rest of them. But not me. No…not me—I float like driftwood in the breeze…follow the tides of your affection. Somehow I remain unscathed, and you lap at me in gentle waves.”

“Such powerful words from a man who should be asleep,” you chuckled quietly, pressing your lips to the back of his hand where you held onto it now, fingers laced.

“I am but a vendor of poetry. And you, a weaver of melody. Sing for me, siren,” he murmured, his voice thick with the drowsy pull of lassitude. He hadn’t asked that of you in so long you had almost forgotten what it felt like to hear it. Almost. And you would have agreed to it, but—

“No, the girl, she—“

“I don’t mind,” Cee interrupted, quiet and soft. It surprised you; you thought she had fallen asleep—you didn’t want to wake her with your singing. And then you were—

Shit. You sincerely hoped she had just woken up due to Ezra’s long-winded soliloquy about your singing, and hadn’t heard anything else beyond that. Mm, no. You think she would’ve said something about how fucking gross it was. Or pulled a thrower on you.

“As well you shouldn’t,” Ezra chuckled, turning his head to grin at the girl where she had turned to face him on the opposite cot, “She sings like Kevva strung her throat with gold. Or the very strings of a harp.”

You blushed and ducked your head into your shoulder, embarrassed by his flattery. Looked to him and found his honey-dark eyes drinking you in from above, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he flattened his palm over your chest and rubbed it affectionately. “What would you like to hear?” you asked, running a hand over your hair and shifting on the floor to calm your nerves.

It was just Ez.

…and a girl who harbored a teen angst bigger than ten moons; fuck if you wanted her to judge you.

“Whatever tickles your fancy,” he replied, his grin wider now that you’d agreed, “You know I’m not particular to any one hymn—I find myself enraptured by it all.”

“Okay.” You pondered for a moment before settling on one of your favorites.

Then you sang.

Quietly, nervously at first in an unpracticed rasp, then growing more steady and mellow and soft.

Some swirling folk melody from your childhood in your native tongue, one you’d never forget even if someday you lost your memory. A lullaby for village children; a lilting work song for the women to hum when laundering clothes at the stream, soothing the babies strapped to their backs or their chests or both.

It told the story of a curious young girl who loved the stillness of the ocean, found peace in its silky depths. She liked the silence so much that she would spend hours beneath the water, training to hold her breath and exploring the creatures of the reef and listening to the wavering silence.

Until one humming summer night she swam so deep the water turned black. She was scared she wouldn’t be able find her way back home but she reveled in the quiet—the quiet that not even the nighttime forest could provide, nor the village when the hunters and scavengers left for work. It was then that she saw a light shining from the deep, and decided to chase it.

Down, down, down.

And down. Until the light became so bright it surrounded her, seeped into her until she did not know where she began and it ended. No pain, no fear surrounded her. Just a sense of calm, and peace.

And she became the moon, the biggest one in the sky. The silence up there was incomparable.

The song was meant as a warning to the village children not to wander too far from the town and somehow find themselves in the cove breaching the outer mountain range. A warning to stay away, else you’d become one of the many moons in the sky, never to return to your family and the life you loved.

But you’d always found it more compelling than that, more meaningful, because the story originated from a similar legend of the moon goddess your village worshipped, the deity of the biggest satellite in your skies. The minor difference came in the detail that she chose to become the Great Moon after divine conversation instead of chasing a light down into the deep on a whim. And there was a ceremony held to initiate her transition into a celestial body.

When you’d wrapped up the lullaby you found yourself more at peace than you’d felt in a long time. You didn’t like to think about your planet, nor your village, nor the tragedies that occurred there. But this memory was a happy one, filled with sleepy eyes and chubby fingers grabbing onto mothers’ cloaks, and getting tucked into warm soft blankets by a fireplace.

“Sweet siren,” Ezra whispered in a drowsy slur, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he turned to rest on his back, “Never fail to soothe me even when ’m in utmost anguish.”

And with that, he left you in silence, and you knew he wasn’t far from sleep.

By the time his breath evened out, you felt your eyes drooping.

Fuck, you were exhausted.

This spin had been arguably more eventful than any you’d had in a long while, and it didn’t occur to you that you could be tired when you’d hardly done much until the action rolled in.

The floor was actually not half bad, given that you laid on the tarp that absorbed heat but quickly cooled when you moved. The nights here got cold, surprisingly. But Ezra’s hand hanging down and resting across your chest felt so good. The weight of him, the heat of him, it grounded you. You circled patterns into his upturned palm until you became too sleepy for that, settling on threading your fingers with his and feeling his pulse beneath your fingertips.

How dare he think you’d care for him less with only one arm? If anything, it showed his perseverance, his will to move forward and make hard decisions. Only something a man with determination could do.

He felt so warm and sure—steady. He was safe now that he had come back. You felt the inky black of sleep begin to wash over you as organized thought became jumbled feeling.

You didn’t have to worry anymore, not about his whereabouts. Everything was alright. It was as good as it had been in quite a while.

Everything would be alright, you could just…

Just…

“I wish my parents had loved each other like that,” Cee murmured in the quiet dark of the tent, rendering you wide awake with a jolt, as if someone had plunged a shot of adrenaline into your chest.

“They separate?” you managed, knowing it came out strange but not wanting to confirm or deny anything about you and Ezra. The silence that greeted you implied that she had had no intention of you hearing it. But she spoke regardless.

“No,” she scoffed, then went quiet for a moment, “My mom died when I was little. And I can’t remember what they were like together. We were always working so there wasn’t a lot of time for love between them.”

Oh. An orphan. It softened you a little more for her, made you more sympathetic to the fact that Ezra had killed her last living parent. You were an orphan too. So was he.

“We’re all missing parts of our family in some way or another. People with worldly attachments don’t usually sign up for this level of intensity. Not the strays, anyhow.”

“But you have each other,” she insisted.

“By chance alone. We didn’t start off liking each other. And we’re not…married, or anything.”

The last bit came out strangled—you’d never…said something like that aloud.

You and Ezra, married? It was odd, to say the least. You never thought of yourself as one to desire marriage in any respect—ceremonial, legal, the like. It just didn’t sit well with you. Too many complications, a lot of governing body involvement that you didn’t care for.

And Ezra…he wasn’t too fond of it either. But not because he didn’t want it, that much he’d admitted to you one night after admitting the complications of his feelings on his love life, ones that somewhat contradicted the first time he told you about it all; he couldn’t have it, he’d never let himself believe even a fraction of him deserved it. The life of a floater—and sure, just as Cee’s parents had prospected and been married (you assumed) and had a kid, many others did the same. But then you supposed it ended with kids like Cee, and she was lucky to not lay dead next to her idiot father, or trapped and sold as a body in the Dark-Spawn Trades. Lucky Ezra wasn’t filthy and depraved, lucky you were once young and scared like her and so took it upon yourself to keep her in your sights for now.

“How’d you meet?”

A chuckle bubbled out of you as you sat up and ran your fingers through Ezra’s hair, watching his chest rise and fall in even strokes, thinking back on that night so long ago.

“Stealing supplies from the same drop company. Two feral dogs fighting over who deserved it more. We bickered and threatened so much we lost track of time and made a mess and a ruckus and got caught.” A smile threatened to break your features and you let it, for just a moment. It faded as you recalled your awful encounter, “Captured, tortured for information because they thought we worked for a rival mining company. They wanted the locations of dig-sites we didn’t have, mining techniques we didn’t know. When he brought up the Wastes earlier…that’s what he meant. Surprised we didn’t die, but they really thought we were valuable or something.”

You gave yourself a minute before continuing. In a panic, you rubbed circles over the tattoo on the web of Ezra’s hand between his thumb and forefinger, trying to ground yourself as wicked, blood-specked memories flooded your head.

Deep breath. You’re safe, he’s here. This will be good to get off your chest. You’ve never spelled it out to anyone before. Nobody’s ever asked. Maybe this girl is a gift from the universe, maybe she was sent here to give you space to heal. Deep breath. You’re safe. He’s here.

You eventually pressed the back of his limp hand to your cheek, and found your voice once more. You didn’t need to worry about waking him; once he conked out into REM sleep it took a freight train to wake him up. At least, when he was with you he always slept deeper. He’d told you one night; how it helped to have you there, like you dragged all the bad memories and nightmares away, pulling them so far out of reach he only found thoughtless, worry-free sleep.

“Hearing someone’s screams from the other side of a cell wall makes you more susceptible to care about them. A bonding experience, so to speak. He’d talk to me for hours on the nights they made us sit and anticipate another session. Recited poetry, recalled stories from his time as a prospector as an escape from our reality. I would sing for him, when we knew the guards had left. It was how we got to know each other. It’s—that’s why he calls me his siren. The reason I call him a chatterbox, among other obvious explanation.”

“How’d you get out?” Cee asked, resting her cheek on her hands as she laid on her side, watching you with keen interest.

“Killed them,” you rasped, not wanting to go into the gory details, “Every single one.”

For nights you had laid awake, haunted by memories of blood staining your only pair of clothes, blood splattering into your mouth, chunks of brain matter on Ezra’s gloves as he dragged you through a maze of tents and established buildings, viscera on your recovered suit, the way you’d had to swallow bile back down your esophagus at the sight of all the lives you’d taken. But you had to do it; it’s what you told yourself when the images would replay every time you closed your eyes.

Vengeance, necessity, paired with Ezra’s seemingly insatiable bloodlust—and your own. Your own shameful desire to incite violence, one you bred in the early years of your youth and had stuffed away until needed.

But you hadn’t been able to deny that, when Ezra shot a man who’d pinned you to the ground and then finished him off with a knife spurting blood out his neck, it stirred your blood something wild. Hearing him panting through the transmitter, grunts and curses as he tore through humans and humanoids and alien creatures alike right beside you. Hearing him call out targets, watching your six, taking single-word direction from you when you did the same.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, like you two had never not known the other. And he was sloppy in his technique, grounded more in brute force than strategy—but you made up for that in quick, evasive maneuvers and stealth. Both of you had near-perfect aim and could work around the clunky gear of your suits.

Messy—pools of blood, the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage crushed beneath your hands and your feet and your knife and whatever other weapon you scavenged along the way.

It felt like a ritual. A baptism of carnage that ensured neither one of you could live without the other.

So of course, when it all was over and the last vertebra snapped—

—there had been filthy, unhinged, surely unsanitary, bio-hazardous fucking in a tent surrounded by carnage.

Fucking in way you could only describe as feral.

Unrestrained.

Hot, Kevva’s saints was it brutally hot and so needy—but also so, so tender.

Full of soft emotion. Unspoken, even for Ezra’s standards. Almost loving.

Your aching bodies, exhausted and weak and battered, dragged lazily against one another once both of you had ceased the initial writhing pace of passion and the adrenaline ebbed. It tasted tinny like blood and musky like spit and salty with sweat and tears, and if nothing more, it was real. Whispering about how fuck, they’d made it and god, they were on the same level, we made it, baby—can’t live without you, I need you I need you I need you—

That day was quite possibly your favorite memory as well as one of your darkest. The day that you knew, in the charred, most twisted part of you, that you’d follow this man to the ends of every planet, to the far reaches of the universe—and he’d very well do the same.

Of course, you shared none of that with Cee.

“We took down the main base of the entire company. They were small but well-endowed. Got to transfer points into our accounts and sort through the mining equipment and the food,” you offered instead after a long bout of silence, “And the spoils of their labor. We were rich, could have retired early.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You debated whether to lie or tell her the truth, deciding on the latter. This girl wasn’t a threat, she genuinely wanted to know. “Ezra and I have—had a certain…interest in finding thrill wherever we can.”

Cee quirked an eyebrow, and you elaborated, “It’s not something to romanticize, we certainly weren’t smart about our spending. Gambling, drugs, slingshot scooter racing, smuggled creature ring-fights. The risk makes winning worth it. It was addicting. We earned a lot. Uncountable amounts of money. But we spent it all and then spent more. Pulled stunts that not even the most daring would try. Heists, intel-theft for enemies of certain people. We got caught up in it. Eventually drowned in a swamp of debt and unrequited favors. Got put on watchlists by the head crime syndicate and peace officers alike in the Core Worlds because we got cocky. Sloppy. So many people want our heads on a stake that we’d be better off dying out here. It’d be ironic, given the executions we deserve.”

You shuddered at the thought of Karolclan and their unusual procedures for punishment. They wanted you the most—you owed them the most. Them and Omni-Five. But Karolclan was decidedly worse.

“Why are you still mining? Wouldn’t it be easier to hide somewhere less dangerous?”

“We have debts to pay, bird,” you sighed, fond of the nickname Ezra gave her as it fit her well, “It’s the only honest work we can get without a biotracker recognizing our scans or someone realizing that the burner names and scouting codes we give them are bullshit. We work alone—no drop company, no mining corps. Until we can get our names cleared and our bio-scans off the watchlist, we can’t do shit else.”

If nothing more, Karolclan did allow debt payoff. But only if you could evade their capture, and only if you had the means to satisfy compounded interest. They were brutal, ruthless.

“He said you had a crew…and a ship…before you ended up stranded.”

“We did. A group of people like us. But you can imagine that a group of outlaws don’t always see eye to eye—buncha hotheaded criminals. Fought over aurelac, argued over fair shares, resources, everything.”

That wasn’t the whole story.

It started as a dispute over aurelac, but had quickly turned into a spat against Ezra, why he had so many successful harvests and surely he was stealing or cheating, how it wasn’t fair that you two were attached at the hip and didn’t section off when you split into groups to cover more land. In the heat of argument and the desperation of man, that had morphed into threats against you—Why don’t you fucking share her, Ezra? We all have needs and she’s barely good at the dig-sites. Put her to use somewhere else or we’ll find a use for her, and that devolved into Might take her right from under you if you don’t watch yourself, don’t be surprised if you hear her struggle tonight.

You had gotten used to the crude commentary, the snickers and wolf-whistles when you bent over, and if they had tried to somehow steal you away in the night, they’d have been reminded that you slept fully armed and showed no mercy to anyone who touched you unless they knew just where to start—and only one person did.

But that…that had not gone over well with him. It ended before you even knew what he did, and pretty soon you had a dead crewmate spilling blood over your boots while the familiar sound of throwers charging up rang in your ears, all of them pointed at the man panting beside you. The only one from the group to live and remain on the Green had been Two, and honestly you were never fond of them but weren’t surprised when they helped you and Ezra take the heat off your backs—they always teamed up with you two and they were good at what they did. It was a shame they were gone—despite their silence and threatening demeanor and sometimes uncalculated moves in a plan, they never made a move to harm either of you; they just wanted to harvest and get out like you did. Better them than Ezra, though. You’d have genuinely lost your mind if they had shown up in his stead.

“Did you kill the crew too?”

“Only a few,” you said honestly, “The others left us stranded when they realized we’d kill them next. Number Two was our only ally. Now they’re dead.”

You laid back down and put Ezra’s hand across your chest again, “Get some rest now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. And if you choose to kill him while we sleep—kill both of us.”

You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to say that, but revealing such a dark part of yourself to her convinced you that she’d plant a bolt in you or Ezra’s head and run. Ezra was the more likely target, given his history with the girl. It was irrational, for the most part; if she truly wanted him dead she would have let his wound kill him. Or she would have shot him sooner. But you couldn’t be too sure.

And you’d sooner die than wake up to him cold next to you.

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #anya writes #ohhhh boy! a second installment #pedrostories #ezra smut #cacoethes

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 3 years

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Hi there! My name is Lia, aka the sunlightmuse. I heard from Sarah that you would like some requests! I would love to hear your thoughts on nonbinary Spencer? -☀️

I think nonbinary Spencer is great! When they start to realise they might not be cis, they do a ton of research and finally find a label they are comfortable with. They decided that they still want to go by Spencer.

They come out to their mum first during a phone call, it just slips out and she says a mother knows, ((I saw this somewhere, I can’t remember where, but I thought it was great so I added it in, but I didn’t come up with it lol it was a post of hc’s I believe? If you know the one I’m on about, please let me know or link it)).

They would be so nervous about telling the team so they choose to talk to Penelope about it first, she’s always so accepting and reassuring about everything. And she gets so happy Spencer felt comfortable enough to share it with her! She buys them a ton of pride badges (as well as pronoun badges for their satchel for after they’ve come out to the team so other people know their pronouns too), she even comes out to them as pansexual.

When Spencer walks into Penelope’s lair and tells her that they’re coming out to the team, she grins and (with permission) rounds them all up. When the team is all gathered and sat down in the round table room, the team gets worried at first that something’s wrong. But then they look at how happy and proud Penelope looks (who would stand right next to Spencer and give them an encouraging thumbs up) and know that it’s probably nothing like that at all.

Spencer stutters slightly when telling them. But they all take it really well.

Morgan panics about having called Spencer ‘pretty boy’ for years, Spencer reassures him that they find it endearing, Morgan makes sure to refer to Spencer as his little sibling and tells Spencer that if anyone is a dick to them about it, he will beat ‘em up - everyone adds in that they would help.

Hotch gives a rare smile and thanks them for feeling comfortable enough to tell them.

JJ tells them that they’re still her best friend and will be no matter what.

Emily smiles and tells them that they’re all family and family love and accept them no matter what.

Rossi asks them a few questions just so he doesn’t get anything wrong in the future but also because he wants to be able to try and understand how Spencer feels. Spencer really appreciates it and describes it the best that they can. Rossi also makes sure that Spencer knows that he accepts them, sensing that Spencer’s nervous due to Rossi’s catholic background.

Garcia notices that on the team’s social media they’ve all added their pronouns to their bio and proudly shows Spencer, who doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. When the team see Spencer wearing pronoun badges, they all buy them as well to wear to help normalise it and so Spencer doesn’t feel as nervous about wearing them.

As soon as the team know, Garcia makes sure to let Spencer know that they are her favourite human, which makes Spencer beam. Rossi also convinces the FBI to have a seminar on LGBT+ and gender identity and how to be respectful.

Hotch and Rossi definitely turn up in matching LGBT+ Ally t-shirts at one of the family cooking lessons and Spencer nearly cries because they’ve never felt this accepted in their life. Garcia, JJ, Emily, and Morgan all ask where they brought it and why they didn’t get them one. Hotch then brings a box of them out from the trunk of his car and everyone changes into them immediately. They then give Spencer a variety of nonbinary t-shirts which Spencer wears all the time.

So I got a bit carried away, but yeah I really like the idea of nonbinary Spencer lol :))

(some of these I’ve seen around, I can’t exactly remember where, but I thought I’d add them in anyway - hopefully that’s okay?)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #nonbinary spencer reid #wholesome stuff really #lgbt+#asks

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milkytheholy1 · 3 years

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Heyyy I loveee your rise fics!!! I was wondering if you’re still doing requests, and if you are can you do number 38 with Leo please❤️❤️❤️❤️

Request: Heyyy I loveee your rise fics!!! I was wondering if you’re still doing requests, and if you are can you do number 38 with Leo please❤️❤️❤️❤️

38: "You're jealous, aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

A/N: Howdy, I'm sorry this took so long to get to but I had a lot of requests I had to fill out. Speaking of requests, I'm going to be taking a little break from them, feel free to send them in I just might not get to them for a bit or take a pause between some. I'll still be posting oneshots and HC's every so often. Hope you enjoy!

Winner

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Your eyes blinked open rapidly upon hearing the familiar ding of your trusty phone beside your bed, groaning awake fully now you leant over grasping the device in your hand. Forcing your eyes to focus on the illuminating screen, you briefly read that your friends were hosting a 'lair games', whatever that was.

Yawning the sleep away, you swayed your feet from under the covers and into the harsh cold of the living world. Getting ready in a dash, you left your apartment and began the trek to the sewers. It was still cold in New York even if it was January, rubbing your hands together at a furious rate to generate warmth, you were actually happy to be able to slip underground for a while.

Donnie always made sure the lair was kept at an optimal temperature, especially since the turtles themselves were cold-blooded. The first thing you saw as you tripped into the lair was a rickety stage between the skate ramp, sighing, you made your way over to April noticing the way she held a camera in her hands and bounced on her feet.

"Do I even want to know what all this is?" you mumbled to her, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Going to sleep at 2am was definitely a massive mistake on your part, but then again, you weren't expecting to be here this early. Fiddling your fingers around your pocket to grab your phone you checked the time, a groan rumbled through your lips, eyes glaring as the clock digit changed slowly 9:15 am.

April held the camera up on a tripod, her hand itching to reposition it every so often. Smiling at her handy work then to you, she began to laugh a little "Every year the boys have this annual Lair Games, they all compete in events and whoever wins gets a prise offered by the previous year's winner. It's a pretty big deal."

"Right..." you dragged out, but your mood lightened up when you saw three out of the four turtles approach you. Mikey waved excitedly at you "Hey (Y/N), I can't believe you get so see the lair games!"

"Your first one too!" Raph joined his younger brother, his eyes radiating sunshine. Smiling at the brothers, your eyes trace over all the decorations strung across the lair "You guys really go all out for it, huh?" Leo wrapped his arm around your shoulders dragging you in closer to his plastron, a blush spread across your cheeks it's too damn early for this you thought.

"Of course, who do you take us for (Y/N)? And this year I will reclaim my crown that was rightfully stolen from me." he bragged, his hand on your shoulder tightening slightly. A loud scoff from behind you all caused you to turn your attention to the shabby stage, there stood Donnie with his hands on his hips "Oh please Leo, would you just accept that I won the last lair games and are, therefore as a result, better than you." he smirked.

You could feel Leo's chest rumble next to your side, your face flushing again as the sound travelled through you too. Leo finally had let go of your shoulders so he could stalk up to Donnie, who held the high ground on the stage. With his hands behind his back, which you remember he once told you meant 'business', you quirked a brow at the two brothers.

"You only won because I let you D, don't you remember your prise? How much sleep have you gotten in that room, little bro?" Leo taunted. Splinter cut the soon coming argument short when he announced the lair games annual ceremony had begun, "As per the lair game rules, the winner from the previous games will give the opening speech. Purple, you're up!"

Donnie nudged Leo out of the way with a harsh shove as he approached the microphone, tapping on it with the tip of his finger, he pulled out a small piece of paper from his battle shell.

"As of lair games traditions, I, the winner, will deliver what is considered possibly the best and the only opening speech given by anyone that isn't Leo. Now for my first point, the prize. For this year's event, I will be offering one free invention from my room for the winner." Sounds of marvelled gasps filled the lair, you sat in your arranged seat staring up at Donatello, amused by how seriously they took it all.

Leo sluggishly walked up to his chair next to you, slumping down with a huff he crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. Leaning in closer to him, as to not disturb the ceremony, you whispered to him "I'm guessing you're not a good loser, huh?" Leo turned to look at you, almost offended, "Wha-I am a perfect loser, for one I haven't tried to kill him yet." You offered him an innocent smile and leaned back into your chair continuing to watch the show, you could hear Leo lowly mumbling to himself "You haven't seen nothing yet."

Round 1 - Weight lifting

You, April and Splinter watched as the boys heaved a range of different weights above their heads, with Mikey holding the lightest and Raph holding the heaviest. Splinter continued to add weights to the boys like a Buckeroo game, waiting for the first loser to arise. You could hear their knees buckling and the clanging of shaking weights, Mikey screamed out and dropped the weights to the ground. Quickly falling back onto his shell, he harshly breathed in and out, sweat surrounding him.

You offered him a cheer of encouragement while April focused her camera lens on the other three participants. Next to go was Donnie, soon followed by Leonardo; both were panting hard and chugging a lot of bottled water. Raph stood victorious, still holding the weights above his head, his muscles gleaming under the torchlight that Splinter shone onto him.

"And the winner of the first lair games event is...Red!"

You and April cheered, applauding and capturing the moment with your phone camera. Meanwhile, in the background, Mikey was trying to lift another set of weights but failing incredibly. Just before the weight could crush the poor box-turtle, Leo pulled him out of the way and the weights crashed to the ground. A tally mark was added under Raph's name on the chalkboard Splinter carried around.

Round 4 - Arts and crafts

Set in the projector room, you and April were perched on the lounge chair watching with amusement as the turtles sat in a corner of the room, each respectively working on their project to impress Splinter the most. Under a time limit of an hour, your phone alarm rang signalling the end of the round. Each turtle displayed their art piece, watching with fear as Splinter scrutinised each one.

Mikey held up a painting he did of his family, "I painted a family portrait, I even included April and (Y/N)!" that got an 'Aw' out of you and April. Splinter then moved onto Donnie, holding a plate with a printed image of Splinter and his brothers on it "Similar to Micheal, I too did a family portrait. But, mine, as you can see, is on a plate. Which is much more functional than a painting, plus you can eat cake off of it." he boasted. Splinter seemed swayed by that response but continued down the line of crafts.

Leo held in his palms a small 'best dad ever' mug, his fingerprints littering the clay that was still slightly wet. With a nervous smile, he offered it to Splinter. Taking the mug by the handle, Splinter watched as the handle broke away from the rest of the cup, the mug sloppily falling to the ground; Leo rubbed his neck after hearing Splinter's groan of disapproval. Finally approaching his last son, Splinter took in the cuts and glitter that covered Raphael. Not even bothering to notice the paper cutouts of his family, he announced the winner "Orange is the winner!"

Round 10 - A tally mark went to Leo.

Round 20 - A tally mark went to Donnie.

Round 23 - Another tally mark to Leo.

Round 26 - Another tally mark to Donnie.

Round 30 - Comedy

You had taken your seat back in front of the stage, a spotlight shining on Leo's figure as he spoke into the microphone.

“I love to play venues where if the guy who built the venue could see me on stage, he would be a little bit bummed about it.”

You all let out a little laugh, except for Donnie. He frowned at his older brother on the stage, his arms crossed over his plastron.

“-get out of here with your facts. You’re like the kid at the sleepover who, after midnight, is like, ‘It’s tomorrow now.’ Get out of here with your technicalities. Just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting.”

"Late at night, on the street, women will see me as a threat. That is funny, yeah! It’s kind of flattering in its own way, but at the same time, it’s weird because, like, I’m still afraid of being kidnapped."

Yeah, it was safe to say Leo won that round. Although you had to admit Donnie did try his hardest.

"So...Aeroplane food, am I right?"

"Blue wins!"

Round 34 - Math

Donnie cheered excitedly as he finished the math equation on the board in front of him, putting the lid on the whiteboard pen he waited for his father's approval. Meanwhile, you and April were dozing off slightly as the round slowly progressed.

"Purple wins!"

Splinter's screaming voice definitely woke you both up.

The guys decided to take a break from the games for a few minutes, allowing their bodies to seemingly rest before being thrown into another event. You sat beside Leo in the kitchen, watching with a smirk as he chugged down the water bottle in his hands, some of the liquid dripping from his mouth. Laughing, you bumped his shoulder "How you holding up sport?" you asked like a dad talking to his son at his first football game.

Leo let a small smile take form on his face, but didn't say much to you than "Fine." You quirked a brow at the usually talkative turtle, slouching you continued to stare at him "What's up? Are you scared about losing?" He let out a confident chuckle, turning his attention to you for a moment "Please, I'm not scared about losing cause I'm not gonna lose."

"Then why are you all moppy?"

"I'm not 'moppy'" he mused, his hands clutching onto the counter behind him. Deciding to join you on top of the counter, you watched as he shifted, his body turned to you slightly. "Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" his gaze travelling to the drawings on the fridge instead of being on you, "Yeah, sure."

He took in a quick breath, breaking the critical staring competition between him and the fridge "It's kinda stupid, maybe I shouldn't ask-"

"Leo." you moaned, the red-eared slider huffed out a breath and prepared himself for ultimate embarrassment. "Okay," he started, "I noticed during the events that you were cheering on my brothers more than me, which is fine it's not like you have to cheer for me or anything. You're not my cheerleader, you know?" He released a sigh, he could feel some of the stress he had been carrying filter through as he spoke "I just- it's-" he stuttered.

"Do you not support me or something, do you think I'm gonna lose or that I don't deserve your cheers. Actually, I don't deserve you-" you placed your hand over his mouth so fast that you were afraid you might have accidentally slapped him. Giving him an apologetic smile you pulled your hand back gently. "Leo, the reason I've been cheering on your brothers is because I know you'll win."

"What?" he blurted out, his cheeks becoming rosy. You laughed at his shocked state, although you knew your face was probably as red as the evening sky at this point, "April told me how you've won nearly every single lair games, so I've been cheering on your brothers so they have some motivation and they don't feel like they've completely lost."

"Wait, so you think I'll win?" he smirked, his hand moving to lie on top of your own. You rolled your eyes at his ego "Did you listen to anything I said." he pulled a face that seemed to look like he was thinking, but you had known Leo long enough to know he already had a plan formed. "I listened to the part where you said I'll win," he smirked, you laughed and leaned in closer to him, Leo seemingly copying your actions.

Whispering as your lips came closer, the devil laughed on your shoulder "You're jealous, aren't you?" Leo pulled back to look at you, his face flushed and eyes wide. Turning his head away from you in embarrassment, he refused to look at you "I'm not jealous." he stated. Giggling at his childish behaviour, you hopped off of the counter and started to move back to the stage "C'mon jelly, the games are starting again." you mused over your shoulder.

Leo grumbled but reluctantly joined you by your side, side-eyeing you at every chance he got.

Final round - Alligator Wrestling

The final fight was held in a sewer pipe a few minutes away from the lair's location, from what April had told you this round had only been done once in all of lair games' history. You, April, Splinter, Raph and Mikey all sat safely on the sidelines while Leo and Donnie slowly approached a sleeping alligator in the murky sewer water. This is a dumb idea you thought to yourself, but you couldn't help but stare at the two brothers as they continued their approach.

The fight against the alligator had lasted for over an hour before Donnie called it quits, both turtles battered black and blue. With shaking limbs and groaning whines, Leo and Donnie were carried back to the lair where they were situated against the beanbags in the projector room. You all stared at each other unsure of what to do, Splinter slid into the room with a megaphone and the tally board. Proudly shouting into the megaphone "Blue wins!" Leo's eyes snapped open, his body leaping out of the beanbag much to the annoyance of his possible broken bones.

Dancing around and sharply pointing at Donnie, Leo celebrated his win once again "HAHAHAHA! Your king has returned! Bow down to King Leo!" instead there was a chorus of groans from his subjects. While everyone was distracted by Donnie's loser cries, you waltzed up to Leo a proud smile on your lips "Well done your majesty" you joked. Leo rolled his shoulder back in pain, quickly relaxing after a popping sound emitted from his joints "All in a days work, right?"

"Well, do you think I can give you your reward?"

"Oh right, Donnie says I get to take something from his lab." You rolled your eyes at Leo oblivious nature, "No you doofus," you placed your hand on his cheek and dragged his face to be level with your own, Leo gulped his Adam apple bobbing nervously. "(Y/N)," he whispered out, whatever he was going to say was quietened by your lips pressing against his own. The kiss was short and simple, his lips sweet and desirable, "Congrats." you disclosed; turning your back to him and joining the others.

Leo smiled as he watched you walk away, oh yeah, it felt great to be a winner again.

#oneshot #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #fan #tmnt #one shot #x reader #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leo #leo tmnt #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #requests are open #fluff #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt

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powerpuff-ali · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your blog! Do you have any other HC about the Rowdyruff brothers you could share? Only if you want to, of course! I loved all the previous ones X3

Hi and thank you!!!! I'm sorry this took so long. I wanted to make sure these came out good! I can always make time and energy for

Loving Brotherly hcs pt 3

I mentioned Boomer is the breakfast master and he loves impressing his brothers. If this means he needs to wake up earlier than usual to make Butch and Brick separate meals, he'll do it

On these days, Butch takes over dish duty to give Boomer a break. Brick rewashes the dishes because Butch is careless about this chore

The boys used to love doing karaoke at home until they hit puberty and Brick's voice cracked, humiliating him beyond belief because Boomer and Butch will not let him forget (what kind of siblings would they be if teasing and clowning wasn't involved?)

Boomer has the voice of an angel, Butch is pretty good too but puberty did not grace Brick's singing voice

Like most people, the boys have a lot of energy to burn after watching an action movie. The difference? They have the powers to actually act the movie out. I don't think I have to specify what kind of destruction this brings

"You can't just go destroying the city because you saw a movie!" "Uh, hello? I said we were acting out the best fight scene! It's not our fault the city got in our way." "Sparky just caused a citywide blackout!" "That sounds like the city's problem." "In my defense, I could've destroyed a lot more but I decided to be considerate tonight"

While most would consider their games going too far, (thinking of the "let's punch each other in the face til someone says stop punching me in the face- you first Boomer" game) the boys actually have respect for each other's boundaries... Probably not respectful as they should be but they know their limits

To whoever has siblings, you might understand this. They piss each other off and sometimes it's bad but it's always far from crossing the line. Boomer and Butch like acting like fools when Brick is studying but when it comes to finals, they know better

The first time the boys hear that the girls occasionally tell white lies to each other, they actually lectured the girls about being a proper team

"how can you lie to each other?" "How can you even trust each other in battle?" "How can you rely on each other if there's no trust?!" *Confused silence on the girls' end*

The boys are kinda "all or nothing" so they don't believe the concept of small lies

Let's talk more about when Brick is sick... So the other two smother him and while Brick isn't the physically affectionate type, he appreciates their efforts. He sees them trying and that's what matters to him

*runny nose, pale complexion, & running a high fever* "I wish you two worked this hard when I'm not sick." "Awe, we love you too." "We would if you weren't such a control freak."

Boomer is the easiest to prank. They don't even have to go all out to prank him. Boomer is the equivalent to a cat chasing a laser around.

Yes, Butch did use one of Mojo's lasers to have Boomer chase. It may or may not have destroyed the lair and a part of the park...

Brick loves photography but *lame cool guy clearing his throat cough* you know... He's too cool to show his love for anything other than destruction... but if it weren't for Brick, the boys would not have any pictures to look back on

There's also a special photobook for Mojo's mug shots that they make fun of

The boys also love filming their own Jackass series with Brick's camera

This house is a prank house. If you're like me and hate pranks, this house is not for you. Itching powder underwear, shaving cream to the face, face doodles, posting the occasional embarrassing picture around town, and even worse, plastic wrap over the toilet seat

Boomer unintentionally (and intentionally) steals things he thinks his brothers would like

"Guess who just picked up the new Mortal Kombat game with the exclusive controllers!" "That comes out later this month though" "No, they had them displayed already." "So you stole them from the store?" "Ugh... No. I had to piss and the stockroom was open so I helped myself. I think the words you're looking for are 'You're' and 'Welcome'"

Ultimately, there's never a moment of peace with them but they wouldn't have it any other way

Thnx for the ask!!

#powerpuff girls #rowdyruff boys #rrb #asks #i did not mean to take a week on this #i hope they were worth the wait 😅

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years

Text

Pierced Nipples HC

Just some fun ol’ headcanons about pedro characters reacting to you having peirced nips!! Big thank you to @captainsamwlsn for betareading my FILTH lmao ily bby!!!

Warnings: smut, foul language, blindfold sex, ya’ll know what you're getting into were talking about pierced nipples not going to church lmao.

Perm Tag list: @honestlystop @captainsamwlsn

Oberyn+Ellaria

Ellaria is letting her hands roam your body while Oberyn watches from the other side of the room, smiling like the two of you just gifted him the sun. Her lips are attached to your neck, leaving dark marks in her wake that you’ll cherish for as long as they grace your skin. Her hand slips under your gown, nimble fingers trail over the swell of your breast and freeze when they feel the cool metal in your skin. Her cool composure falters for a moment, soft brown eyes widen before they crinkle as she smiles. “I knew you were special.” She hums, Oberyn notices the change in his lover’s mood, more excited than before, more enamored with you, if that were even possible. “Come look lover-” Her hands loosen the lace back of your gown, letting the fabric fall off your figure and pool at your feet, leaving you bare before her and the Red Viper.

You try to shy away but she grabs your chin, keeping you focused on Oberyn whose eyes are glazed over and mind no doubt addled with lust. To see the prince of dorne, the red fucking viper so entranced, so in awe by you? That gave you a rush of adrenaline, a surge of power that you’d never felt before and never wanted to leave.

Her hand is tugging and playing with the silver bar in your left nipple as she hums and kisses the side of your face. Oberyn stalks towards you, slowly, but each step is taken with such authority you feel your knees grow weaker as he gets closer.

“Magnificent.” Ellaria coos as you gasp and arch your back when she toys with the metal. “Isn’t she?”

Oberyn’s gaze trails down to your chest, looking at the metal pieces with an adoration that tied your stomach in a knot. A bronze hand trailed around the silver bar while his eyes focused on your reaction, taking in the way you whimpered and bit back moans as they played with you.

“Truly one of a kind.” He breathed out. His gaze shot up to his lover, both of them sharing a conspiring smile. “But she would look so much better in gold, don’t you think my love?”

Din

When Din finds out, you're laying in your bed with a smooth silken fabric tied around your eyes. He’s mouthing at your neck, moaning against your skin as his hands map out every spot of your body and every reaction it pulls from you. He’s getting drunk off it, the way you whimper and writhe under his hands.

You knew he was probably starved of it all. Touch, taste, sex. Living in a beskar cage his entire life. The rough pads of his fingers slip under your shirt, trailing over your stomach before pushing the fabric up and over your chest, his fingers freeze at your chest binding, brown eyes flicking up to your hidden ones under the purple sash tied tight around your head.

You nod, his fingers tremble as he undoes the fabric and pulls it away from your body.

You hear a sharp breathe and grin.

Maker, you wish you could see his face right now.

“You know-” You’ve got that big shit eating grin on your face and it makes Din’s heart beat even faster. “You can touch me, tincan. I promise.”

You arch your back, presenting your chest to him even more and he feels like he may faint.

“C’mon metalhead-” You tease. “-don’t leave a girl hangin’.”

In Din’s mind, the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, His hands frozen at his side suddenly snapped back into motion at your soft coo.

His hands, scarred and rough, gently play with your pierced chest, his heart threatening to hammer right out of his chest when you moan and arch your back.

“Fuck-” You gasp when he leans down and takes a nipple between his teeth, the other currently being rolled and tugged on by a hand shaking so bad you can feel it. “-that’s it Din.”

He moaned against your skin at the praise, letting his tongue savor the feeling of your soft skin and the cool metal.

You were going to be his undoing.

Tovar

With Tovar, you both had fucked a few times before he ever found out. You belonged to the same group of mercenaries as him and William. Being the only woman meant you kept your guard up constantly, when Tovar began to find his way into your bedroll (after you propositioned him of course, he may be blunt but he isn’t a beast) it was quick, rough, efficient, neither one of you would even undress completely. Not that he didn’t know his way with a woman, oh no. You found your ecstasy each and every time you laid with him. Tovar would love nothing more than to unwrap you like the gift he believes you to be and spend hours unraveling you under the stars, but things didn’t work out that way. They were always on the move, mindful of wanderers waiting to pluck off travelers and rob them blind before sticking a knife in their gut. To dawdle with a lover meant being distracted, which couldn’t end well for either parties involved.

Of course that wasn’t always the case, but you were as guarded and stoic as your lover, something William would tease his friend about endlessly.

It wasn’t until the cruel chill of winter settled into your bones as frost coated the grounds you slept on at night that Tovar found his rough hands burrowing under your clothes.

You had an iron grip on his wrist as you led one of his expert hands down your trousers, whimpering against his throat.

“It’s too fucking cold.” Tovar grunted in agreement, fingers slipping between your legs to rub your clit.

“Let me warm you then-” In all the times you’ve laid with the Spaniard, this was the first time you felt the rough skin of his palm slide up your shirt and cup your chest. His hand froze against your skin before he growled, rucking up the fabric of your shirt over your chest. His eyes widened, taking in the piercings that glinted under the moonlight and leaned down, kissing you hard with a moan.

“Do you mean to kill me woman?” You laugh at his words but it melts into a moan as his fingers curl inside of you while the other hand tugs and twists a nipple between his fingers. “Surely you want me dead.”

“I would never-” You smiled as he kissed down your chest, tongue lathering and worshiping every spot it touched. “-If you died, who would keep me warm?”

You didn’t think about how low you were when you cried out as he swirled his tongue around a pierced nipple before biting down. Pain shifting into hot pleasure as his hands and mouth worked simultaneously to bring you closer to the edge.

He pulled away with a pop, breathing heavy and eyes wild as he stared down at you. “Nobody.” He answered, fingers curling and pushing you under hot waves of pleasure that kept rolling, uncaring if it was too much for you to handle.

“No other man will keep you warm, or bring you pleasure.” The coil in your body was pulled tighter and tighter until it snapped, Tovar, the bastard, lets his fingers push you over the edge while he bit and sucked on the skin of your chest. Usually he would silence you with his own mouth, drowning out your cries of pleasure in a harsh kiss.

But not tonight. He wanted them all to hear. Every other man in your group, and the next town over and the one after that. To let them all know that he was the only man to bring you such ecstasy, to see the wicked metal in your skin that was burned into his brain like a cruel brand.

He’d have you scream it loud enough for the gods to hear him if he could.

He was yours to use, and you were his to keep warm.

Frankie

This one is in the Frankie & BB universe, where reader is a camgirl that frankie falls for! Link for the intro hc post is here

Frankie had seen you topless the first night he met you.

Well..the first night he saw your streams, of course. He was no stranger to women with piercings. He’d dating girls with nose rings and belly button piercings, even a pierced tongue once, but never did he find himself enamored with pierced nipples.

Before he met you that is.

Now he fantasizes about worshiping you, covering your chest in kisses and bites. Taking the pierced skin between his teeth with a gentle nip and savoring the way you breathe out his name and tangle your fingers in his hair.

The way you’d look down at him beneath your lashes with that sweet smile before wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him in that spot for as long as you deem right. He’d want to stay in that moment forever.

But those were fantasies, perverted little dreams that lived in his head while he watched you touch your chest on camera with a coy smile. He knew the feeling of your skin beneath his was something he’d never get to truly cherish.

Until he finds himself two months later in your apartment with you sprawled out beneath him on your bed, his hands under your hoodie and marveling at the way you sing for him while he worships the smooth skin he’d longed for.

Ezra

You had been working with ezra for a few cycles before the tension finally blew over one night. You grew fond of his fanciful stories, always painting such a vivid picture with his vast vernacular and slight southern lilt. Though you’d often tease him for his “Motormouth” as you called him, you enjoyed listening to his smooth voice paint stories as you worked.

He grew fond of your warm smiles and your laugh, oh your sweet laugh. He’d spend his life telling you stories if it meant you would never stop laughing. Such a sweet soul you were, he didn’t think the life of a harvester was one you were meant for. But you worked hard and plentiful, so much he asked if you wished to continue to work together. After the loss of his arm he could use the extra help on jobs, not that he enjoyed to admit it, and you were a pleasure to be around.

The way your face lit up as if you had found the queens lair made his heart tie into a knot.

“I’d like that motormouth.”

It was the same night you found the courage to kiss him.

Ezra soon melted into the kiss, letting his tongue slip past your lips and his hand grabbing anywhere on you he could reach. You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling away only for a moment to pant out-

“Bed?”

Which is how Ezra found himself lying in his cot, flat on his back with you straddling him and kissing his neck.

“I will admit I’ve thought of you in such a position many times but-” He let out a smooth chuckle when your hands pushed his shirt up his body. “-never did I believe it would actually happen under these circumstances.”

You had some smart remark on your tongue, but lost it as you pushed his shirt up to see the pierced skin of his chest.

His hand rubbed circles on your waist as you stared at him with your mouth agape. “Have I rendered you speechless, sweet gem?” He has the air of a prize show dog, eyes confident and practically preening under your gaze. “We were just beginning to have fun.”

“No I just-” You shook your head with a light laugh. Your hands removed themselves from his shirt to pull at your own.

“I didn't think we’d match, is all.”

You quickly shed your top, throwing it into some darkened corner of the room as Ezra took in the sight of your bare chest, soft and each nipple sporting silver bars that matched his own.

A big grin grew on his face as he pulled you down for a heated kiss. His hand quickly grabbed and tugged at your chest while you did the same to him, both moaning in praise of the heavy touches.

“It seems we must be made for one another, gentle soul.” He leans down and takes your nipples into his mouth while tugging on the other. The once lone harvester cherishes the way your moans seem to echo through the cot, a song sung for him and only him.

One he hoped he could make you sing again.

Maxwell & Valerie Lord

This one is in the universe of my fic Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together, focusing on not only you and Maxwell, but his wife as well! Not super important to this because it’s only hc but Poly fic obvi. Chapter one ink is here if you're interested.

Maxwell and Valerie found out before they ever had you in bed. Valerie had been the first to find out actually, and all but sang about it the moment she got home to her dear husband.

She was at your shop, as she usually was during the day. That day she had huffed and puffed about some “friend” that was less of a friend and more of a nuisance, but one she kept around anyways. You listened to her berate the woman as you hemmed a sundress with a smile, occasionally chiming in here and there with your own words on the dreaded socialite, causing the ice queen herself to laugh and smile.

“See!” She pointed to you with a congratulatory grin. “This is why you're my fucking favorite!”

You shook your head and stood up, moving to the next article of clothing to alter. A tux that needed to be taken in.

But as you stepped to grab the suit jacket, you lost your footing on a wire that poked out front the carpet and stumbled. Luckily you caught yourself before falling to the floor, but not without your shirt, which was buttoned dangerously low in the way that Valerie and her husband loved, shifted and got the richest woman in D.C a quick peek at the bare, brown, skin that she dreamed of for months.

She took in a sharp breath, taking her bottom lip between her teeth to hide any noises made at the quick reveal.

Piercings? My oh my you were full of surprises.

She covered her reaction well enough it seemed. After shifting your shirt with no words, you sat back down and began to mark the jacket with tailors chalk.

Unknowing that Valerie’s heart beat against her ribs like the wings of a hummingbird.

The moment she got home she called Maxwell’s office and insisted she speak to her husband that instant, who was currently in the middle of a meeting.

His secretary, a replacement for the one before that she loathed, was quick to transfer her to her husband.

“Darling-” His voice was gentle but scolding, no doubt looking up at the men in the room with him. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, but I’ll speak to you later, alright?”

“Oh?” Her voice was full of faux innocence that her husband knew he was going to dread picking up the phone. “So you don’t want to know what I saw when I visited our girl?”

At the mention of you, Maxwell shifted in his chair.

Our girl. Hearing his wife say those sweet words send his heart into a frenzy. Truthfully you were what brought them back together, showing them a way of love they didn’t know they had for each other as well as you.

Something you didn’t even know you did for them.

“And what’s that my dear?”

He held up a finger to the men in the room with an apologetic smile. It was returned with patient nods and absent minded waves, insisting he continue his phone call.

Of course they wouldn’t tell him to hang up. He was Maxwell fucking Lord.

“Well-” his wife purred, his voice causing a strain in his trousers. “Today, I caught a little peek.”

Maxwell cleared his throat.

“Not on purpose of course.” She further explained, wrapping the telephone cord around her finger as she spoke. “But she tripped, stumbled a bit and well-” His wife sighed, letting her head fall back as she closed her eyes in memory. “Oh she looked so soft Maxie, you should’ve been there.”

“It certainly sounds like it.” Maxwell’s mind ran rampant with the image alone of seeing you in such disarray, his wife sultry tone did nothing to quell the fire. “Now if we can continue this conversation when I get home-”

“She’s pierced too.”

Maxwell pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to feign annoyance in front of the other men so they didn’t see the way he gripped the phone so hard it nearly cracked in his grip. “Excuse me?”

Valerie hummed. “You heard me handsome. Pierced. She looks so pretty with it.” He could hear the little hitch in her breath that told him she was just as unraveled as he was by the news. “I bet it feels so nice to tug on and touch, oh fuck.”

Of course she didn’t have to hide it.

“Type?” His voice was even and composure cool even as his mind was flooding with images, fantasies that he’d do anything to make a reality.

The love of his life, his queen and fucking she-demon in life simply giggled.

“Come home and I’ll tell you all about them.” She blew a kiss into the receiver before hanging up.

Maxwell sighed, masking himself in great aggravation and fatigue at the phone call.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to reschedule this meeting gentlemen.” He rolled his eyes. “My wife is practically in pieces and insists I come home to take care of her this instant. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

A man in a cheap suit chuckled and waved the CEO off. “Nonsense Mr.Lord, we all know how it can be with women.”

He knew damn well none of these schmucks knew how it could be with his women.

Maxwell sighed and hung his head. “Isn’t that the truth boys.”

A few handshakes later and a stern order to his secretary and he was walking down the steps of his building to the car waiting for him outside. The moment he got in he slammed the door shut hard enough the car itself shook and he fished out two hundred dollars from his wallet.

“Sir?” Daniels, his driver spoke warily. Maxwell let out a shaking breath, running a hand through his blonde locks and pulling his shoulders back before turning to his driver with a harsh stare.

“Get me home in the next five minutes and this money is yours.”

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