#zip it mikey

[mikey-bunny]

WOOOO IT’S MAH BIRTHDAYYYY

[turtleblogatlast]

Please imagine if the bros stayed the same teeny tiny size they were immediately post mutation, but were still super powerful regardless.

[sleaterkinnie]

so sorry to fashionistas everywhere but if im not wearing a lame and boring ass fit i will die

[quality-street-rat]

Tmnt 2k12 headcanon

April had to explain periods to the guys and after Donnie did some more research ALL the boys were in awe of April for a while.

"Dude, one of her internal organs rips itself into chunks of meat EVERY MONTH. That's badass. I respect anyone who can bleed for five days straight and not die." -Raph

Anyway, one day when April's hanging out in the lair and she's on her period, she says "I would KILL someone for some tater tots right about now," and Mikey, genuinely fearing for his life, acquires some tater tots (don't ask me where, when or how) and brings them to her. She literally cries and the boys all lose their minds because they think something's wrong. She has to explain that hormones just Do That sometimes.

"Man am I glad my organs stay where they are." -Casey

[kobracola]

mcr bring back your old merch challenge

[whirlmoment]

i am finally whirlmoment!!!!!!!

[fayesia]

Date night — husband!mike schmidt x reader

a/n: Hi everyone!! So this is a continuation of one of my husband!mike schmidt blurbs.

Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, sexual acts in a public area, praise kink, fingering, dirty talk, lmk if i missed anything!!

Summary: husband!mike schmidt who takes you out to a restaurant for date night and proceeds to finger you in the enclosed booth, later rewarding you for keeping quiet by pounding into your dripping pussy in the backseat of his car.

“we’re gonna be late babe” Mike calls out as he rifles through your shared closet for his suit jacket. You roll your eyes as you slip on your silk dress struggling to reach the zip resting just above your tailbone, cold hands brush across your skin hearing the slow noise noise of the zipper reached your ears. Mikes hands rest on your hips, lips ghosting over your neck whispering “you look so good…maybe the reservation can wait”

you giggle at this “no mike, you waited months to get this booking and we finally got a good babysitter, let’s go, quick put your shoes on”. He huffs behind you watching you bend over to put your heels on, god at this point your just teasing him and he’s not gonna allow that tonight.

You reach the restaurant in record time stepping out the car as mike holds the door open for you. Glancing in the reflection of the car window he senses your hesitance to enter the fancy establish.

“you look perfect honey, now let’s go inside”

He gently grabs your hand as you walk up to the waiter, he brings you both to your table handing out menus and explains how his name is ‘James’ and he will be in charge of your table for the night. He leaves to let you both decide your orders but not before letting out a remark about ‘being there whenever you call’ followed by a smirk in your direction, leaving you sat there with a sour grimace on your face.

“what a fucking dickhead. can he not see me sat right here with you” looking up at mike you try to give him a comforting smile “you know in yours mikey i don’t care about that guy whatever his name was”

Mike pulls you closer to his side in the reclusive booth specifically requested for the two of you, finally getting a night out to yourselves. His hand resting on your thigh tightening as James returns to take your orders. “i’ll just have one steak special” mike responds not even glancing in the waiters direction, “and for the beautiful lady?” you frown a little at his comment shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, as he eyes you up and down lingering at your chest for a moment too long. you open your mouth to respond glad to hear mike cut in “my wife will have the same” he curtly replies. James simply nods unimpressed by mike.

“and what drink will you both be having tonight?”

“just the red wine”

“ok well, we should have your order ready soon”.

Mike doesn’t even regard his presence absolutely fuming next to you, so you put on a fake smile and respond with a polite “thank you” as he collects your menus and walks away. “God did you see the way he was looking at you, who does he think he is!!”

“it’s ok mike don’t let this ruin our night out” you rub your thumb reassuring against his hand that’s still tightly gripping your thigh through the open slit of your dress.

“i love you, you know that”

“i do know, i love you too mike” he lowers his head connecting his lips with your plump soft ones, you pull away remembering where you are softly breathing. Mike holds eye contact with you, lips a centimetre away from yours “you know we’re pretty hidden. Chose this booth specifically”

“For wha-“ you barely get the question out before you feel his hand glide up your dress’ slit and onto your panties.

A single fingertip traces over your panty covered clit as you breathing picks up, panicked eyes meeting his mischievous ones. You’re fighting hard to not let a moan slip out, a tasks only becoming increasingly difficult as he insert his hand into your panties and expertly explores your wet folds he’s grown to know all to well. He places soft kisses up and down the side of your neck, pausing for a second to think and then continuing to harshly suck a mark right where everyone can see. His tongue soothes the sting as it traces over the now red hickey positioned on top of your right collarbone. You think the slow almost voyeuristic torture is over until his pointer and middle finger insert into your dripping sex. The wet squelch easily heard by the two of you over the gentle classical music playing over the restaurants speakers. He rubs and curls them against your g-spot bringing you closer and closer to orgasm until he stops.

Your eyes shoot open a look of need replacing the one of pleasure you had before. However you know it was not done as punishment or to be a tease as you see James walk out of the kitchen with a bucket of ice containing a bottle of wine and two glasses. You think mike will take his hand from out beneath your dress but to your utter dismay he continues his previous actions. Struggling to sit upright you provide a small smile to James as he places down the glasses and pours you both an adequate amount, briefly glancing over at your freshly marked collarbone and leaving with a reminder that the food will be coming soon.

“you heard that hun, you gotta cum before the food does” mike whispers in your ear with a shit eating grin on his face. You want to scoff at his words but trying to control your moans are already proving to be hard. With his two fingers harshly dragging you to climax the final straw is drawn when his thumb applies pressure to your clit. You arch your back unsure of what even hold on to as your grip his wrist to stop you reaching the point of overstimulation. You coat his fingers with your cum and attempt to catch your breath watching him bring them to his lips, open his mouth and suck any remnants of your orgasm clean off them.

“just in time baby” he exclaims with delight at the sight of your overpriced meal being brought over to the two of you. James places the plates down and walks away leaving you with a wink after a quick “enjoy your meal!” you know he’s accustomed to say no matter who he’s serving.

Mike and you finish the meal, pay the mortifyingly expensive bill and return to the car. but before you can get into the front seat Mike is pulling you back against him whispering against your ear lobe in between kisses “i think you deserve a reward for your behaviour in the restaurant tonight don’t you think honey” you nod your head almost in a trance feeling his hands everywhere all at once. Opening the back seat he’s thankful he parked in the corner of the lot away from the lamplights illuminating the interior of many other cars.

He crawls over you in the cramp space kissing you with a ferocious need, you finally release your moans into his mouth missing his touch. His hand drag down your zipper, pulling the dress off you absolutely enthralled at the matching lingerie you’re wearing underneath. He unclips your bra and begins his attack to your breast, lips coming against one sucking and nibbling while his hand works on the other one. “mm fuck missed these, god it’s been too long” you moan gripping onto his hair pushing his mouth further onto your tits, slowly lowering your hands down to his pants. You unbuckle his belt pulling his pants down and reaching for his cock. He moans at the pressure of your enclosed fists moving up and down his thick throbbing dick, hips thrusting into your hand, encouraging you to pick up speed.

He pulls away, dragging your panties down your legs as a thin strand of your wetness breaks. He positions his dick against your pussy rubbing up and down to lubricate himself, before entering you in one swift go. He leaves you completely breathless pounding in and out blinded by his need for you. “oh ye just like that baby best pussy in the fuckin’ world…hmm so wet for me, such a good slut taking me so well”

you moan at the filthy words leaving mikes mouth, the noises of the two of you and your body’s connecting bounce against the cars windows, but nothing will stop people passing by from seeing the utter force the car is shaking from. Any adults experienced in this world of pleasure would be well aware of the exact events taking place beyond the fogged up windows of the this car.

And maybe its the thought of this—or mikes finger against your clit—that bring you just that little bit closer to the edge. “fuck mikey i’m gonna cum please, god harder i’m gonna fucking cum”. His thrust increase speed, the noise of his balls slapping against your ass is louder than ever but easily covered by the loud moan you both let out as you cum. Your pussy clenching around mikes pulsing dick, drenching it in a coating of your climax, the last thing mike needed to prompt him towards his own orgasm.

“oh yes yes just like that baby clench around me so warm, shit always so fucking tight no matter how much i fuck you, christ, your so perfect, i love you so much” the words never end as he pulls out and strokes his cock. His cum squirts across your stomach, even reaching your neck, finally the onslaught of cum stops with the last few droplets dripping from his cocks ferocious red tip and onto your wet pussy almost the exact same shade of red.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you on top and against his chest, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead.

“i think we should go on date nights more often”

[kazutora-kurokawa]

i saw your headcanons about Bonten!Mochi x Younger!Reader so i was wonder can you do older!izana (idk maybe he didn't die and join boten😭?) X younger!reader? sfw and nsfw please?

Bonten!Izana x Younger!Reader

♡ SFW + NSFW, fem reader, fluff, exhibitionism, public sex, spanking, Izana is 30/reader is 22, drinking, soft!Izana but also jealous!Izana, au where Zana survived and formed Bonten with Mikey ♡

note: I love my baby Zana 🩷 gotta write for Tora (my other baby) soon

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

SFW

🎴 Buys you anything and everything you want, spoils you rotten like a sugar daddy

🎴 Always offering to help you get dressed, whether it's zipping up your dress or slipping your shoes on your feet

🎴 No one in Bonten knows about you except for Mikey and Kakucho, he jokes and says that you're his little secret wife but he's actually just jealous at the thought of any other members talking to you

🎴 The age gap isn't that noticable because he damn well doesn't look like he's 30

🎴 Gets jealous easily and makes impulsive decisions

🎴 He doesn't drink often, but when he does he gets really emotional and you have to comfort him and hold him all night (only time he'll let you be the big spoon lol)

NSFW

🎴 Punishes you whenever you do something he considers wrong, usually talking to other men without his permission

🎴 Bends you over his knee and spanks you, makes you count the spanks too

"How many was that darling? If you can't remember then I'll just start over."

🎴 Loves fucking you in public, he doesn't care about the risks and only does it to claim you further

"I really didn't like the way that guy was looking at you, maybe I should bend you over the table and let him know who you belong to~"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[tojisbbg]

❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2

a/n: highly requested for pt. 2!! you ask and i shall deliver 😌

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

it was currently seven in the evening, the newlyweds bid the last couple of guests goodbye. throughout the whole event, mikey tried his very best to plaster on the most convincing smile he possibly could to mask the chaos going on inside him. 

there was never a second where you’ve left his mind, ghosting through every lane in his brain as he couldn’t focus on anything but you. he felt guilty, knowing that perhaps his marriage wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped for. 

“better invite us to the housewarming party, sano. your wife’s cookies are no joke.” pah nudged mikey, a small laugh leaving his chapped lips as he faintly nodded his head. mikey watched pah walking towards the door before suddenly stopping, watching as his friend bent down to fix the bottom of his wife’s dress. the hopeless boy couldn’t help but watch, observing the affection and love reciprocating between pah and his wife, before they both left together. 

in the back of his mind, the memory of you zipping up his jacket properly during the cold winter season, lending him your scarf and making sure that he was all warm and snuggled up was fresh in his mind. you always made sure that he never got sick and when he did, you would ditch everything in your agenda to make it your business to nurse him back to health. 

no one has ever cared for him like you have and mikey knew what he had to do. 

“honey?” the voice of his wife awakened him from his train of thoughts, turning his head to the side as he was met with a warm smile. god, he felt so guilty for what he has done and was about to do. 

“yeah?” he responded, waiting for her to ask.

“i was thinking that the two of us could have a small movie night when we get home.” she suggested, eyes twinkling with hope as mikey gulped harshly. 

home.

they bought a house together and planned to live there forever until time was up. but, he always wished that it was you instead. mikey couldn’t bare to look her in the eye, clearing his throat as he tried to think of an excuse. 

“it’s been a long day, you must be tired. i’ll drop you home and go over to ken-chin’s place since he suddenly left and isn’t answering my calls. get some rest, okay?” he lied straight through his lips, and his poor wife was too naive and quickly sympathized with it. 

“of course, i hope him and y/n are okay. let me know what happens, hm?” suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, making him freeze. 

it felt so wrong, like he was being suffocated. mikey didn’t like this one bit at all, it felt too new and unpleasant. he’s been with ___ for a couple years by now and these things were never an issue. yet, after your sudden confession, the regret of not coming clean to his feelings years back ate him alive. 

“hm, let’s go.” mikey gave her a smile, placing a hand on her back as he led her out of the church. 

the drive to his house was not very long, giving him enough time to quickly slip out of the annoying suit as he slipped on a pair of jeans and a flannel. he saw his wife sitting on the couch, a small bag of chips in her hands as she munched on the salty snack while watching a rom-com movie. she noticed him and gave him a wave, making mikey want to rip his hair out as he just wanted to tell her the truth. 

but, he wasn’t ready yet. 

he walked over to her and place a faint kiss on her forehead before looking down at her. 

“i’ll be back soon.” mikey assured, making her nod as she watched his figure walk out of the front door. 

the ride to the brothel was about thirty minutes, making mikey curse on why he bought a place that had to be so far. the urgency to see you grew stronger and stronger with every light and block he passed. mikey quickly parked his car after arriving in front of the brothel before rushing out to go up to the floor where you and draken lived on. 

the elevator dinged and he stepped off, now standing in front of your door. his breathing became irregular, anxiety swallowing him up whole. all the possibilities of you hating him and banishing him away from your life scared him to death. a shaky fist came up to the wooden door, knocking twice. 

the door opened, revealing his tall best friend, staring down at him with a death stare that made chills run down his spine. 

“ke-”

“what do you want?” draken brashly cut him off, making mikey’s lips agape as this sudden behavior from his right-hand man was completely unexpected. surely he knows that you might’ve ranted to draken about whatever happened between you two, but usually draken doesn’t like to get involved in neither your or mikey’s personal life. 

“i just came to see y/n and talk with her, five minutes is all i’m asking for.” mikey chewed on his lower lip, eyes sternly on his shoes as he couldn’t bare to see his friend look at him with such hate-filled eyes. draken bitterly laughed, making mikey wince in pain as he knew that this was going to be bad.

“oh, so now you wanna see her, huh? you disappeared for nine fucking years, sano. nine damn years! you didn’t care about my little sister at all, whether she was alive or dead. did she tell you that she fell sick from not eating because she was looking for you? how she couldn’t sleep a single night in peace ‘cause she thought you were dead? of course not, you were too busy being blind and fucking some other bitch.” draken yelled through gritted teeth, making mikey look up at him with anger. 

“mind your fucking words, don’t call ___ a bitch.” the shorter spat out, tension growing between the both. 

“how rude of me, i forgot that you were a gentleman. well then, goodnight.” draken scoffed, attempting to close the door before a foot lodged into the remaining space. 

“please, all i’m asking for is five minutes.” mikey begged, tears welling in his eyes. 

“you had nine years to talk to her, but you didn’t. there is no five minutes, mikey.” the taller spoke, voice know cracking as mikey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“w-what do you mean? where’s y/n? don’t just stay quiet, answer me!” he grabbed onto draken’s arms, only to have it harshly ripped away from his grasp. 

“she’s dead! y/n is dead, my sister is gone.” the tears that draken has been holding on since mikey has arrived came flooding down, as he glared at his best friend with bitterness. 

the words kept on repeating inside of mikey’s mind, taunting him as it felt like time has stopped. for some reason, it felt as if his body turned into stone, he couldn’t move. suddenly, a wave of rage began to build up, making him grit his teeth before balling his fists. anger clouded his sight as all he saw was red, eyes darkening.

“you piece of shit!” mikey bellowed, lunging towards draken before landing a hard punch on his jaw. remi screamed in horror, panicking as she saw both men breaking out into a violent fight. 

“you knew about her tumor! you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me?! what kind of a fucking friend are you, traitorous jackass!” mikey continued to throw endless amounts of punches on draken’s face, receiving some back as well, but no matter how hard draken hit, he felt numb. 

“stop!” remi yelled, before throwing her shoe at mikey’s head, making him wince at the stinging pain the heel left. draken was on the ground, breathing heavily as he shoved the smaller figure on top of him to the side. 

“do you think that beating each other to death will bring y/n back? do you think she’ll be happy? huh?!” the girl sobbed, landing a hard slap on each of their cheeks as both draken and mikey looked down at the floor in shame. 

“her death was inevitable, that tumor was a ticking bomb. she’s finally free from those painful chemo sessions, headaches, vomiting and seizure episodes. she won’t suffer anymore.” remi sadly smiled, body trembling as draken pulled her into his chest. 

“i deserved to know, she was my other half.” mikey lowly spoke, tears pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision. 

“you didn’t deserve shit, sano. all y/n has ever done is love you with all her heart. you were her world, everything revolved around you. yet, you failed to notice that. what did you do instead? you fucking disappeared without a word. oh and even better, you found some chick too. you never cared about my baby sister, you didn’t! so stop acting like the victim here.” draken sneered, meeting mikey’s teary eyes as he grew quiet.

“i was trying to protect her, i was afraid that my presence in her life would do more harm than good. i was scared that one day something bad would’ve happened to her because it involved something to do with me. i couldn’t risk it, that why i even disbanded toman.” mikey explained, breaking out into a painful cry as his heart bled. 

“did you even love her?” draken questioned, watching the man in front of him choke on tears. 

“god, i loved her to the moon and back! she was all that i could think of every second that i breathed. if i knew sooner, then i would’ve never left. i would’ve never been a coward, i’d stay by her side to protect her. i could’ve had more time!” mikey yelled in agony, making draken grab a hold of him. 

“it would’ve never been enough! y/n didn’t tell you because she knew that it would’ve destroyed you.” draken hugged him, patting his back as remi joined them both as well. 

after a few minutes, draken decided to take remi outside for a small walk, feeling like they needed some fresh air. this gave mikey some time to go see you. he hesitated for a bit, not being able to face you even though you were long gone. but, he eventually mustered up the courage and opened your door. 

there, you laid on the bed like a pretty flower, your skin pale as snow due to the life in you being drained out. 

“i know you told me that you didn’t wanna see me again, but i missed you. i don’t wanna let you go, y/n. i can’t live without my other half, i love you so much.” he cried, stroking your cold face as his tears fell on your cheek. 

if only he knew, he would’ve cherished you longer. 

---

mikey walked inside his house, eyes swollen from crying in the car, nearly getting into an accident twice from his blurred vision. 

he saw his wife with a teary face, her friend my her side rubbing her back. the both of them noticed his appearence, and instead of a look of relief, the both of them looked angry. 

mikey stood in his place, watching his wife rise from her spot and walking towards him before landing a harsh slap on his face. 

“you fucking cheater! you don’t love me, i was your escape route. you love y/n, don’t you?” she asked, voice becoming shaky as she looked at mikey through glossy eyes. 

mikey remained quiet, and there she got her answer. 

“i knew it, i knew it! yet i still had some trust and hope within you that my guts were wrong. that maybe those little gestures you both gave each other was nothing but platonic. i was wrong, you and that two-faced bitch lied to me!” she screamed in agony. 

“watch you mouth! you don’t get to call her that, you heard me? everything that she has ever done for anyone was nothing but a selfless act. you don’t know her.” mikey said through gritted teeth, making his wife scoff. 

“yeah? well, you can now go back to her and continue to kiss her mighty ass ‘cause i want a divorce.” she sternly said, crossing her arms over her chest before walking to the door with her friend. 

“i’ll get you the papers by next week.” mikey bluntly said, not even trying to fight or defend himself. he was tired and he didn’t want to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life knowing that his heart belonged to you and only you. 

“why? i wish to cut my ties with you as soon as possible.” she said with disgust laced in her tone. 

“because i have to attend y/n’s funeral.” mikey deadpanned, making his wife’s mouth gape open. 

“huh, guess karma is real. that’s what you get, sano.” his wife’s best friend taunted, making his now ex-wife giggle. 

“i’ll come tomorrow to get my stuff. i can’t stand to stay here for another minute. also, i hope that two-faced bitch burns in hell.” she cockily said before heading out the door, slamming it shut. 

---

it’s been about a month since you’ve died and mikey hasn’t visited your grave yet. he was there for your funeral, seeing how draken never requested the morgue people to not take off the promise ring you both have on your pinky finger. but, he didn’t stay for the burial. 

mikey sat on the bench by the river, sighing as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier. he opened the lid, plucking one of them out before placing it on his lips. as he brought his lighter closer to the end of the cigarette, your voice echoed in his mind. 

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?”

he took it out, placing it back in the package. mikey stood up, walking towards the garbage can before throwing out the pack of cigarettes. 

mikey decided that it was time to see you.

he reached your grave as you were buried in the nearest cemetary, easy for your sibling to visit you on the weekends. mikey sat in front of your tombstone, placing the cup of chocolate pudding on the ground. 

“felt like you wanted some.” he smiled, opening up his own as he took a scoop of the sweet treat in his mouth. 

“how did i do it, y/n? how did i live all those years without you? now that you’re gone, i feel suffocated. it feels like i’m falling in this bottomless pit with no one to save me.” mikey’s voice broke, tears stinging his vision as he bit his lips to conceal a choked out cry that itched to leave his throat. 

“you just have to find happiness again, mikey.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, the familiarity of the tone set chills all over his body. he turned around, eyes widening in shock as he couldn’t believe it. 

“y/n?” he called out, but it was barely a whisper. mikey knew that you were dead, and that perhaps he was going insane, but he didn’t care. 

you smiled at him, taking a seat in front of him as you grabbed the chocolate pudding he brought for you. 

“are you real?” mikey finally mustered up the courage to ask, making you chuckle as you grabbed his hand. your flesh was cold, making him intertwine his fingers with yours in an attempt to give you some of his warmth. 

“it’s time to let me go, mikey. you have to live, travel, start a family and just be happy; without me.” your eyes held so much sadness and depth, it no longer twinkled with hope like before, making his heart ache. 

“i can’t. i need you by my side, y/n. please, come back.” he begged, shaky hands coming up to cup your face. tears began to stream down his face as he softly cried, making you sigh as you pulled him in a hug. 

“do you remember our first meeting?” you asked, gently stroking his hair as he nodded. 

“i told you, there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. that’s what i want, mikey.” you spoke, making him look at you with glossy eyes. 

“if only i knew sooner, i would’ve done things so much more differently.” mikey sniffled, making you shake your head in disagreement. 

“that’s why i didn’t tell you. my condition would’ve consumed you and i didn’t want that. i didn’t die in vain, i died knowing that i had a loving family and person who loved me for who i am. i’m happy, mikey and it’s time that you find that happiness too.” you assured, kissing his forehead as small drops of rain began to fall. 

“i envisioned a happy life with you, with one or maybe two little kids running around our house. ken-chin and remi visiting us on christmas, road trips and so much more. i’ll wanted to marry you, y/n! you’re the only girl that i have ever loved, the one my heart belongs to.” mikey broke down, trembling as the rain drenched him. you couldn’t help but let a few of your own tears fall, watching the man that you love crumble to pieces. 

“then marry me, sano.” you looked at him with adoring eyes, making him shoot you a confused look. you took off the promise ring on your pinkie before handing it to him. he took off his as he placed it in your palms, eyes never leaving yours. 

he slid on the ring on your ring finger as you did the same to him. mikey gave you a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“god, i love you so much.” mikey mumbled under his breath, leaning in for a kiss. you accepted it, and for some reason, your lips felt warm and soft. 

“i love you too, which is why i need you to live for me. i’ll always be here with you mikey, somewhere safe and sound.” you placed a hand over his heart, making him cry harder as he nodded. 

“okay. i’ll try, for you.” he offered you a broken smile, kissing your hands as you hummed. 

“goodbye, mikey.” you said, and it made his heart drop. 

“wait! don’t leave just yet! ple-”

but it was too late because now it was just him who sat alone by your grave. mikey saw that the pudding he got for you was gone, making him believe that the vision or ghost of you was in fact real. 

you came back to him, even if it was for a moment. 

mikey knew that he had to give his life a chance, a chance that you never got. which is why he promised to live to the fullest for you. 

---

big flashing lights nearly blinded the famous race car driver as he cleared his throat, waiting for the interviewer to bombard him with questions. 

“mr. sano! what a pleasure to have you here, thank you for joining us today.” the woman politely said, making mikey give her a small smile. 

“the pleasure’s all mine, thank you for having me.” mikey smoothly replied, making the crowd swoon. for a man that was pushing his mid-thirties, mikey looked amazing, without a doubt. his voice was crisp and honey-like, making it hard for people to resist him. 

not to mention the generous heart he has. 

the interview was pretty long, consisting of questions that made mikey talk about his childhood, goals and inspirations. until the burning question hit him like a truck. 

“mr. sano, you’ve got quite a fanbase.” the interviewer started off, being cut off by the loud squeals of mikey’s fangirls, making him chuckle. 

“we all want to know, are you single?” the question pondered in his head, but mikey knew the answer and didn’t hesitate. 

“i’m not, actually.” he revealed, making people gasp and scream from shock. 

“who’s the lucky girl if i may ask?” the interviewer continued to ask for further information. mikey smiled, thinking about the only woman that will ever own his heart. 

“my best friend, y/n. she’s my wife who unfortunately passed away a few years ago due to an inoperable brain tumor. she’s the love of my life and i miss her every day. i funded the research foundation for inoperable brain tumors in memory of her. she’s the biggest inspiration in my life and i hope she’s happy when she watches over me.” mikey spoke into the mic, making the crowd briefly go silent before a loud wave of claps echoed through the room. 

“you’re a great man, mr. sano, i’m sure your wife is very proud of you. she sounds like an amazing woman.” the interviewer offered a consoling smile. 

“she was. y/n was brilliant, she was smart and talented in almost every aspect. she’s my other half, which is why it made it hard for me to learn how to live without her after she passed away. but, she always told me how there was too much love in this world and i shouldn’t be consumed by grief. so, i picked myself back up and started something to give other people hope for a better tomorrow.” mikey explained, seeing how the audience was in tears from his heart-touching words. 

for a breif moment, mikey saw you amongst the crowd. his eyes widened, seeing you in a beautiful cherry sundress, similar to the one you wear every summer in high school. you were clapping and you blew him a kiss, to which he caught as his eyes teared. 

mikey knew that he would never stop falling in love with you and that he would let you break his heart over and over again. 

because his heart belong to you and only you. 

[mikey-bunny]

I was at a convention and I got SO MANY TICKLES

First I got belly rubs while in fursuit

Then my BF cut my hair, which REALLY tickled for some reason. Had me actually squealing and I couldn't sit still!

[rustedhearts]

hurt (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: steve’s looking to blow off some steam after his first title fight loss, and you tend to him the best you know how.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of ring ♡

tags: make way for steve's ego!, smut, like...accidental size kink idk how that happened honestly, steve's not an official dom b/c we don't do that anymore around here but he's a dom, little bit of blood, more biting!!, bruising.

dallas, texas april 1991

"Goddamn it!"

The door to Steve's dressing room flung open, hurling toward the wall with a resounding bang. You flinched, slowly standing to your feet from your place on the leather couch. You were carted back stage by an assistant a few minutes ago, just as the arena, and all of America, saw the referee raise Steve's opponent's fist in victory—for the first time in his career.

Steve stomped into the room, beat red and dripping sweat. He was practically steaming. Your palms slicked as Big and Mikey trailed in behind him, prepared to do damage control.

"Harrington...it happens—"

"—to amateurs. To losers. Not to me," Steve snapped, voice booming and sharper than a sword. You jumped again when his gloves went flying into the wall.

He flattened his damp hair against his skull, fingers jumping and arms buzzing. You could see it brewing on his face—he was going to explode. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around the room, he began to pace. Tick, tick, tick. It was only a matter of time before he'd burst.

"It's one loss, Steve," you piped up, stepping toward him to comfort. "It's really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of—"

"Undefeated, Libby. Y' know what undefeated fuckin' means?"

You felt the strain of muscles in your face, how gravity pulled them downward. Big, hands on his hips and head cocked disapprovingly, glanced at you. It was getting easier to spot the cracks between the pair of you these days.

"Steve," you sighed, gathering his gloves from the floor to place them in his bag. "I'm just saying—"

"—I'm not supposed to fucking lose! And maybe I wouldn't 've, if you did your fuckin' research."

You craned to look over your shoulder, finding Steve's gaze on his coach. Steve had taken a step closer, now toe to toe with a man much larger than him. Big—graced with a name that, in all reality, didn't do the sheer size of him justice—fixed Steve with a steady, unimpressed stare. But the thing about Steve when he was angry? Truly angry, seething, seeing black.

He'd fight anyone just to feel release.

"Come on, man," Big huffed, head shaking.

You zipped up Steve's duffel, sinking down on the couch again to rub your temples. This was going to be a long night.

"He was a switch hitter. Woulda been a good thing to know...don't you think? Huh?" Steve sneered, looking up his nose at his coach.

Big held his hands up in surrender. "These things happen, Harrington—"

"Not. To. Me."

The room fell to a ringing silence. Mikey lingered near the door, anxiously petting his mustache. The paparazzi were waiting, huddled at the end of the tunnel for a snap of Steve, 'The King of the Ring' Harrington's first loss. He had a post-fight conference in forty minutes. The endorsement representatives would be coming by to offer their pitiful condolences that you knew would only enrage him.

"They don't fuckin' happen to me," Steve growled, pounding at his glistening, heaving chest with a gauze-wrapped fist.

Big just shrugged, watching Steve turn to stomp your way. You stood, reaching for his arms. All you wanted was to comfort him, soothe him, bring him back to that grumpy but agreeable Steve you all knew. You'd never seen him like this—because he'd never been like this. He'd never lost.

Big inched forward on one foot, but when Steve was merely stiff and silent in your gentle, stroking touch, the coach backed away toward the door. He was always a little cautious after the incident in New York last year. He didn't like the way Steve grabbed you, and he didn't like the way he kept doing it ever since.

Mikey opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, searching for something to say but too afraid to muster it into words. Steve looked murderous. His huffing and puffing was so loud you worried he'd start to hyperventilate.

"Try to cool it before the cameras start, would you?" Big opened the door, turning to direct a pointed look Steve's way.

Steve, facing you but glaring over your head at the wall, turned sharply toward his coach. "Fuck you."

The door muffled Big's sigh, and you parroted the sound as Mikey disappeared behind him and Steve immediately ripped away from you. Your hands fell to your sides limply, chest squeezing tight.

"Steve—"

"—m' showering."

You took a small step after him toward the showers. "But—"

He stomped off, sneakers slapping on the damp tile. He disappeared around the corner, and you deflated in the center of the dressing room with a frown. When the stream of water hissed, you sank back down on the couch and waited, eyes aching and head pounding, a sour taste like acid in your mouth.

♡ ♡

Steve skipped the press conference. The press would call him a sore loser, his opponent would look like a gracious, genuine fighter, and his endorsements would call Mikey berating and scolding him for his client's actions.

But Steve didn't care. He couldn't face a crowd of reporters and paparazzi as a loser. A failure. He'd face them as a winner, or nothing at all.

They called him The King. His crown was starting to fall. You just wished he could step down from the throne every once in a while.

On the ride home, you reached for his hand and flinched when he flicked yours back into your lap. You searched for his eyes but met only the side of his face. Those hard cheekbones, purpled and blued; that swollen brow bone, torn at the corner and weeping red. His lip was fat and he kept running his tongue over the slit in the righthand corner. You knew he was reveling in the sting, bathing in the pain. He needed it when his fists started shaking like this.

Yet despite the visceral fury physically steaming off him, he was eerily...calm. Calm for Steve, calm for a man with a head as a hot as hell itself.

When Steve was silent like this, you knew a nightmare was brewing.

The car pulled in front of the hotel doors, and Steve yanked your door open with such monstrous force that you worried it would come right off the hinges. Some men had a Midas touch. Steve's was Herculean.

He was silent in the elevator, huffing only short, sharp breaths through his nose. He was silent through the hall, stomping with long, bounding strides. He was silent when he slammed the hotel door after you and tossed his duffel on the velvet chaise lounge near the bar. He was silent as he eased back against the black marble and crossed his arms.

You slowly slipped off your heels, hooking your fingers in the straps to bring them toward your luggage in the other room. You eyed him carefully as you passed him, breezing by in a whiff of sweet, citrusy perfume. The diamonds in your ears flashed his eye with a streak of white, catching the lamplight on the end table.

You were nearly to your destination when his gruff voice cut through the tender quiet.

"C'mere."

You paused, surprised just by the sound of his voice. You turned halfway, digesting his demand. Stern, rigid, empty. It mirrored his expression: emotionless. Your heels dangled near your thigh, fingers curling tighter around the straps.

Steve lifted his chin, eyes rolling away from the floor to fix steady on you. They held that heavy-hooded look you were always wary of. He had his fists tucked under his biceps, enlarging the bulging muscles, protruding the overworked veins. The thin black cotton stretched across his body strained.

Your cheeks flamed and your insides wriggled about the same way they do when he whispers in your ear. You stepped your legs a little closer to each other, tightening between your thighs.

"Steve, I—"

"—come. here."

You held his gaze, face half shadowed by the dark side of the room, brightened by the gentle lamplight on the other. His chest rose and fell steadily, and yours struggled with every inhale. He didn't twitch an inch, didn't move a muscle. The solidity to his steadiness always unnerved you. Right now, it made you want to take a bite of his bicep, where the skin was warm and firm and you knew it would taste like salty sweat.

Right now, the way he was staring at you like you had no other choice but to come to him—like he knew you would listen to him because he had such a deep, clawing, biblically powerful hold over you—made you want to devour him.

You dropped your heels on the carpet, where they landed with a muffled thud. You took small, breezy steps toward him. You felt like you were gliding. You felt so much smaller than you were, so minuscule and tiny under his pinning stare. You felt like he could cup you into his hands and crush you, and something about that thought made you tingle.

You came to a stop when your toes brushed his boots, sweaty sneakers discarded in his gym bag. Palms sticky at your sides, fingers grasping for the hem of your black dress, you tipped your head back to meet his gaze when he slipped one hand from under his arm and tucked it under your chin. Propped between his index and thumb, you let him tug you closer—urge you with just the gentlest of pressure. Your stomach pressed against his belt, and the way his head tipped to gaze down at you made your breath hitch.

Still resting against the marble, Steve seemed cool and eased as he bent to meet your mouth. You trembled on the tops of your toes, too impatient to wait for him to meet you, too desperate to find his lips and taste them. He'd never tell you, but he found it sweet, how mindlessly eager you got for even the smallest of his affections.

Your eyes sank closed when your mouths touched. Gently at first, but with an inch from Steve, his mouth molded against yours with a firmness most like his usual affections. A firmness unyielding, leaving no room for breath and no space for escape. But you were happily pliant to his hand spreading to hold your jaw in his wide palm, nearly sighing in relief when he finally switched from impassively cool to the Steve you knew:

Forceful. Mean. Rough.

His tongue swept your bottom lip like the tickle of a feather, though your giggle became a strangled whimper when his spare hand came to gather the hair at the nape of your neck. Free from confines and soft from hotel shampoo, it was a welcome feeling in his palm, and like he couldn't stop himself from reaching for more of it, he yanked. Fist curled tight against your scalp at the back of your head near your neck, he tugged just once—hard.

You popped away from his mouth with a wet smack and a scratchy whine, catching flashes of striped wallpaper before his mouth attached to your neck and sent you flying into blurriness. You held onto him for dear life, hands leaving splotchy white marks on his biceps. And just as you suspected: they were hot and soft, stiff and massive.

He latched onto the column of your throat with a suction like a vacuum, and you caught glimmers of starlight as he lapped and nipped. His teeth scraped the wet mark when he pulled away, and your body gave a convulsing shiver that, this time, made him exhale a chuckle against your skin. His nose slid through the slick spit, gliding across your throat and up your chin, brushing your cheek when he met your mouth again. His hand returned to your jaw to squeeze, the other still firmly planted in your hair. Your scalp began to buzz in a way that felt like a dead tingle.

The kiss was delicate this time. Careful, precise, like he was worried he'd break you. But Steve never worried about breaking you. He liked you that way. He loved how much you needed him to make sense of you.

Steve slowly pulled back, waiting until your eyes fluttered open and blinked at him with slow, breathless beats before rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen mouth. His own seemed a little larger, and as he tipped his head toward the light, you realized his lip had split open again with the force of his kiss. Your tongue immediately sought the remnants on your mouth, relieved to locate the metallic taste just past your bottom lip on your chin.

Steve's lip twitched at that.

"On the bed, baby." His voice was so soft that you were sure you'd fabricated it.

But then he let go of your hair and dropped his hands to his sides, and before he could blink in that expectant, impatient way, you spun around and hurried toward the bed. You were on your knees and about to reach for your zipper when Steve caught your wrists. It was the smack of skin on skin that made you freeze, catching his eye to find it empty again.

"Ah-ah," he scolded gruffly. "Hands down. I'll do it."

He released you and you obeyed, lowering your hands to your sides. Steve inched closer, and your head met his chest as he curled over the front of you to find the back. You inhaled quietly, searching for his scent. Muddled soap and heavy sweat, a cigarette smoked in the lot on the way to the cab. You brought your hands to his stomach and slipped them under his skirt, sweeping them across his muscular sides. He twitched, chuckling deeply despite himself against your neck. Your zipper snicked as it escaped your spine and fell to your tailbone, and your dress pooled in your lap as Steve stood tall again.

You tipped your head back to gaze at him, cheeks swollen with heat and lip caught between your teeth. Your hands were still under his shirt, still gripping him like a toy. He gave you it, pulling his shirt over his head with a tug of the back collar. It flew across the room in a dash of black fabric, and then you were gazing at his lean-cut muscles peppered with black and blue and a few fading greens. His stomach flexed when you brought your fingers to circle the nearest bruise, a grunt balling in his throat.

You returned both hands to his sides, right above his belt. Leaning forward on your knees, you pressed your mouth to the warm patch of skin where blood pooled and painted him colorful. You puckered a gentle kiss. Steve swallowed, jeans tightening. Mouth still pressed against him, you lifted your eyes to gauge his expression and he felt like he could burst.

His hands slid into your hair, pushing your head back with a grip on both sides. You rubbed your thumbs into his muscles, massaging the strain.

"Does it hurt?"

He eased his grip on the right side of your face and brushed your hair behind your ear. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, head cocking toward his shoulder. The scabs of a bare-knuckle practice scratched the skin on your face in the nicest way. He still smelled like blood.

"I like it to," he said.

You pushed off on your heels, nose brushing his chin as you inched closer to his height. He slid your hair over your shoulder to bare your neck, placing the breeze of his knuckles there.

"Me too."

Steve's eyes snapped away from your neck toward your own, a brief flash of surprise seeping through the brutish void. When you gnawed on your lip and danced your fingers over the firm leather of his belt, he let the surprise slip away as swiftly as it came.

In its place came the animalistic need to tear you apart.

He pushed your hands away without a word, and you sank back down to your heels on the mattress, watching with round, welled up eyes as he undid his belt. The buckle clinked and hung loose at his pelvis. The zipper snicked. The denim of his jeans whooshed down his legs. In only his boxers, tight against him and leaving nothing to the imagination, he resumed his hold on your face to direct your attention back to his eyes.

He pulled at the sleeve of your dress hanging limply in your lap. "Off."

You made quick work of discarding the fabric, sliding it down your legs and throwing it away. Steve snapped your bra strap next, and you bent your arms behind your back to unhook the band. All he had to do was flicker his eyes toward your panties for you to remove those, too.

When you were naked, you waited a beat. A moment of such palpable silence that you were certain he'd hear your heart beating. With the way your blood started rushing to your ears, pumping with such forceful gushes and thumps, you could barely hear anything over it yourself.

Then you reached for his bulge, aching and waiting, unable to contain yourself. Once more he grabbed your wrist, holding your touch away from him. You reached with the other hand, happy to play his game. He grabbed that one, too, and soon he had you right where he wanted.

Though, not quite.

He slammed you against the mattress on your back. Pinned by his hold on your arms, flattened by his weight pressing down on you. Your heart moved to your throat, throbbing wildly. Your legs instinctually parted to make room for him between them.

Steve searched between your eyes, bouncing between left and right, inhaling your every exhale. When he saw nothing but bliss, he slid your arms above your head and crossed your wrists together. Gripping them in one big palm, he used the other hand to mark a path down your side that had you squirming and shivering. You giggled when he circled your navel, only to gasp when he swept two fingers down your pelvis.

He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew every route to take. He knew the shortcuts that would bring you to your fastest peak. He knew the long, winding paths that would make you whine and cry and beg him to cut you a break.

He knew you.

Just like you knew him, and how much he needed to be the biggest in the room. How much he needed this power over you, this control over you. Sometimes, he traveled too far. Sometimes, your favorite thing in the world was when he took over the wheel.

You wanted his control. You needed it.

Steve gently guided the tips of those two fingers between your legs, pushing just gently past the warm, squishy barrier. You sucked him in, mouth unhinging with another gasp when he sank the length of his fingers in entirely. The grip you had on him was tight, and your thighs were already shaking when he brought his thumb to your clit, beating and pulsing with want for his attention.

"You like it to hurt," he whispered, eyes sliding briefly toward your bare chest before your eyes again.

You bobbed your head, face so hot it hurt. "Yes."

"Do you want it to hurt, angel?"

"Please."

Steve didn't let you wait, and for this you were grateful. His hair tickled your cheek, his breath fanned your neck, and then his mouth was clamping onto the patch of tender muscle between your shoulder and neck. His teeth sank in, delivering a dull sting that made you shriek. He pulled away when you began to pant.

He moved his mouth to your breast, fingers loosening around your wrists. He sank into the squishy fat, gathering a chunk of it between his teeth. It stung a little sharper, hurt a little better. You cried out this time, and he pumped his fingers in a gentle push and pull as he moved to the other breast. You could barely suck in a breath.

Wet patches caught gusts of cool air as he maneuvered over your body, covering you in his mouth and leaving you with his teethmarks to prove it. He released your wrists, but your head was so fuzzy and full of air that you didn't even think to move them. Steve wanted them there. You wanted what Steve wanted.

Steve clamped down on your waist, following the valley of your curves. You jerked the other way, body instinctually recoiling. He bit into your hip, then your thigh, then your stomach, then the thin skin just above your pelvis. He had you covered in him and writhing for more, cheeks soaked with tears he was certain you didn't even know were shed.

Face pinched and pooling with red-hot heat, you gasped for air and arched off the bed. Steve's fingers worked deeper between your legs. His thumb rubbed with the firmest pressure in just the right spot. You stomped your feet against the mattress and whined, long and howling.

"Steeeeve."

It burned, he could tell. He could tell by the way you trembled and closed your legs around his hands. He could tell by the way you blinked tears to the ceiling, how you balled your hands into fists—still above your head. You couldn't hold steady and you looked close to nausea.

Steve settled on his knees between your legs, free hand smoothing over your wobbling thigh. He loomed over you with an empty expression, taking in your bare body and his mouth branding nearly every inch of it.

Just as you lifted your back again, hands flying down to grip the mattress in preparation for the orgasm winding a knot behind your navel, Steve ripped his fingers away. You cried—a pitiful, pathetic, snot-filled sob that sliced through the room and made Steve huff.

But Steve had mercy on you. He replaced his fingers with something better, and your cry dwindled to short sniffles as the head of his cock breached your throbbing entrance. He slid your thighs over his, pulled you down until you were forcing half of him in. You howled again, head tipping back, hands reaching for his. You found them on your waist, gripping in a vice.

With slow and steady caution, Steve eased between your legs and mounted over you once more. He propped himself on his forearms, caged on either side of your shoulders to squish your arms against your sides. There was nowhere for you to run. You were inching close to orgasm again already just at the thought.

Steve cupped his palm over the crown of your head and leaned in until his nose brushed your own. His thumb pressed against your forehead, his breath tickled your open, shining mouth. You could see the blood gathering on his lip again. It wobbled there, at the split seam of soft tissue. It glistened and, in your foggy, fucked-out mind: it called to you.

You swept it up with your tongue, sucking with a gentle pull that made Steve's seem cruel. But even that delicate, meek suction had him groaning, had him bucking into you wildly. You released him and he followed the metallic scent of your breath, thanking you for his brief sting with a nip on your bottom lip.

'Hurt me, so I can hurt you.'

And squished under him, taking every assault of teeth and lapping up the blood, you found something in pain you never knew was possible: peace.

A simple, mindless transaction. I hurt you, you hurt me. This is how we say I love you.

Hurt me. So I can hurt you.

Steve pressed your heads together, rutting into you so deep you almost thought you could feel him in your throat. But maybe that was just more tears, pooling and lumping until you couldn't swallow past it. So you released it, weeping in a way that had Steve kissing your hot, sticky cheeks just to ease the hysteria. But he wanted those tears, and he basked in how they tasted on his mouth.

In one final effort, one last turn toward his destination, Steve reared back just enough to bring his hand down on your ass, thigh hitched over his hip to bare it to him. It slammed down with a sharp clap, delivering a sting that spread like wildfire and reverberated through your thighs and spine.

It was exactly what you needed to shatter. It sent you stumbling, clinging to Steve like you'd fall apart without him holding you steady. You weren't entirely sure that was false. You whimpered into his neck, fingers buzzing against his back. You sounded so pathetic, sniffling and hiccuping like that. Steve kissed your jaw and caught a glimpse of the blotchy bruise he left on your neck. You'd be stuck with it for days.

Steve spilled into you, raw and warm, sticky and disgusting. He brushed his nose against your bruise and felt it throb. He ran his thumb over the red shape of his mouth on your hip as he slipped from between your legs. He brushed his hair back against his head and licked the blood from his split lip. His knuckles had broken open and stained the white sheets near your head.

On sore thighs and wobbling knees, Steve settled between your limp legs once more and gazed down at the mess he made. He brushed your hair from your eyes and cradled your cheek. Still catching your breath, you leaned into his hold with heady exhaustion, placing your hand over his. You'd be just as bruised as Steve tomorrow morning, and you'd marvel in the mirror at the pretty colors he painted you with.

And the best thing about it? Steve wasn't hurting anymore. He gave it all to you.

♡ ♡

[retrobutterflies]

Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

[dandylovesturtles]

More Sidelined propaganda for @tmntaucompetition ! Today's special guest star is Omega from Replica by @kathaynesart

I promise that the 100ft boys aren't my redheaded stepchildren I've just had more ideas for Sidelined so far (and also they've been in a comp before). I'll try to write something for them sooner rather than later.

But for now, this!

-----

"Ohmigosh, look at that!" calls Mikey, pointing excitedly. "It's a cartoon Donnie!"

It's not hard to tell what he means - some kind of screen mounted on a wheeled tripod, with a cartoon Donnie face making various expressions as he "looks" around at the assembled turtles. Leo wheels his chair towards him, grinning mischievously.

"Look guys, Donnie finally evolved to his final form."

"Hah hah, I haven't heard that one a hundred times before just today," says the Donnie on the screen.

"He even does sarcasm like Donnie!" squeals Mikey.

"Faaaascinating," says Leo's Donnie, leaning in close to observe. "I would think this Donatello is just broadcasting from some remote location, but then why the sprite-based representation of myself? Mikey's handiwork, I assume."

"Correct that it is Mikey's artwork, however, wrong that I am a Donatello broadcasting from a remote location." The cartoon Donnie looks entirely too smug, even in 2D. "I am a fully autonomous AI made from Donatello's personality and memories. I am Omegabootyshaker9000, but most people call me Omega."

"An AI!? Of me!?" Donnie is really buzzing now, practically fluttering around the tripod. "Oh, that's brilliant! Ooooh, I would love to get a look at your programming - may I?"

"Nope, my programming is proprietary, as you well know."

Donnie's face falls. "Awww, come on! Your creator and I are the same person!"

"The deviations between our timelines would suggest that they are not. But nice try."

Donnie immediately turns sulky, pouting off to the side of the Leo's wheelchair. Leo wants to laugh at him, but something more important than his brother's disappointment occurs to him.

"Hey, if you're one of Dee's AI, I know someone who'd want to meet you."

So saying, he reaches around the back of his chair, under the various things he has hanging in the way (as always) and taps on the little drone stowed there. He hears a questioning whirr, then the sound of rotors slowly starting up, and then Shelldon pushes his way out from under Leo's hoodie, stretching his rotor discs like they're limbs.

"Sup dudes?"

"Check it out, Shelly - it's one of your big brothers!”

"Hm?" Shelldon blinks at him, still booting up, before finally looking at Omega. That seems to shock him all the way awake, zipping toward the screen and doing a lap around it. "Whoa! A Dee AI!?"

"Shelldon!" cries out Omega, looking delighted. "Oh, look at you! You look so young!"

"Hey, I'm not young! I'm version 13.0.8!"

"Ah, almost version 14..." Omega chuckles. "I know how much trouble you gave Donatello back in those days."

"He gives me plenty of trouble now," huffs Donnie, still sulking.

"Eh, don't listen to him," says Leo, waving it off. "Shelly's great!"

"You are part of the reason I have so much trouble with him," Donnie argues. "You're a bad influence!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"They update so fast," says Omega, interrupting their bickering. His sprite has a look of wistful nostalgia. "You should really cherish this time, you know."

"Eugh." Donnie makes a face. "There's nothing about this time to cherish. I'll be glad when he updates out of it."

"You think that now," says Omega, "but whenever Donatello remembered those years... he missed it."

The past tense applied to his twin makes something in Leo's stomach twist. Though they're out of his sight, he can sense Mikey and Raph tensing up, too. For the first time, Leo has to ask himself why Donnie needed to make an AI to store his memories and personality. And he doesn't like any of the plausible answers.

Omega seems to realize after a moment that he's sobered the mood, because he does a very exaggerated clearing of his throat and says, "So, that wheelchair is interesting, he said in a very natural segue. Is that a Genius Built original?"

"Uh," says Donnie, and then he kickstarts into motion. "Why yes! Yes it is! You know, I can show you the schematics if you just let me see-"

"Haha, nice try again! But no."

"Awwww, come on!"

[opossumloverr]

✪ TURTLE BROS CUDDLING HEADCANONS ✪

Summary:

The turtle bros favorite Cuddling positions!

Warning(s):

None!

A/N:

Bro. I needa focus on finishing these requests, BUT I CAN'T HELP IT, IM ONLY HUMAN 🤧 FORGIVE MEE (Gender-neutral, Romantic)

《RAPH》

Spoons

Yes, I know, pretty plain Jane, but it gets the job done

He just doesn't wanna hurt you while cuddling

Even though you insure him that you'll be just fine

He is NOT taking any chances, nada, zip, nothing

In this position, it's easier for him to nuzzle into your neck and whisper sweet nothings into your ear

He churrs very loud while cuddling (background noise)

They all do to be honest

《LEO》

Leg hug

I was debating if this should go to Mikey but I ultimately decided it should be Leo

Look at me and tell me he wouldn't be clingy

Especially If it's cold,

in that case give up on ever getting up from this cuddle prison

It's so cold and he so fragile and helpless (Yeah right) Wont you stay with him, just for 5 more minutes?

Oh? he said that 1 hour ago? Well, this time, he means it! (No he doesn't)

《DONNIE》

Baby Cradle

When he finally has free time, he likes to hold you

Just caressing you softly

Or he will be playing video games while you cling to him

Watching him get sucked into the digital screen, unconsciously skimming your cheek with his hand

You guys don't cuddle often because he's either busy with a project or he doesn't feel like it

But when he has time, he's here with open arms!

《MIKEY》

CLINGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

I think we all know why I chose this one

Cuddle time with Mikey is PRECIOUS

He is not letting go until he's satisfied or it's completely necessary

Smooshing his cheeks into yours lovingly

Smooching all up over your face

He'll whine if you have to leave though

Just hold him tight!

OKAY GUYS IK IK, IVE BEEN GONE FOR A WHILE, AGIAN. FORGIVE ME, Anyways here's this. Ik its short, but it's the thought that counts, there may be some grammar issues but... yeah..😛 I LOVE YALL, IM STILL WORKING ON REQUESTS.

[spiritofthewriter]

"How long?"

The question is desperate.

Carmy looks away, fingers picking at the fraying skin of his cuticles. His gaze running left and right, panic in those baby blues.

Your voice shakes, and inside something in his cracks. Something unknowable, something unfathomable, giving way to your wavering pleas.

"How long, Carmy?"

The use of his name jolts him. His eyes finally zipping up, taking you in for the first time since he revealed the devastating news mere minutes ago, though it felt like ages.

Even after all these months, it still didn't feel real.

"How long has Mikey been-?"

You choke on the last word, unable to push it forth. But still, it hangs in the room, heavy and deafening as if it'd been screamed.

'How long has Mickey been dead?'

The silence says, echoing like an empty cave the longer it stretches on.

It takes everything in Carmy to speak. He swallows down the panic, wiping his sweaty palms on his vintage jeans. They were far from his favorite, but in that moment they were holy. He focuses on them. The roughness of the denim scratching against his moist palms. The crisp pressed seams, still stiff with starch. The color, inconsistent blues, softly faded with time but still very much in peak condition. They'd been expensive, but damn was it worth it.

Anything to save himself from the way he knows your face will face. The way your eyes will water and your voice will crack.

He can see it beginning already, and god, he wishes he could change it. He wishes he could go back to that night, all those months ago, when you pounded on The Beef's door, pushing past and staggering through, dope sick and begging for Mikey, drenched from the rain, smelling of earth and with tears in your eyes.

He wishes he'd broken the news to you then as he handed you that towel, back when you were a stranger and not someone precious to him. Back before you'd become someone he'd come to care for, dare say someone he'd come to love.

Back when you were just a beautiful stranger.

But it's too late for regret.

No matter how heavy it sits upon his chest, nestled between his ribs, squeezing at his lungs and stealing his very breath away.

Much too late.

He takes a breath, inhaling the familiar scent of grease that hangs in the air, day in and day out. The faint scent of cigarette smoke wafting in through a window. He pauses, taking in a breath. The familiarity helping to ground him.

The words come easier now.

His voice surpringly steady.

"He's been gone the whole time."

It's a punch to the gut, and even though Carmy had attempted to steel himself, it doesn't make it easier to see the words settle in.

And right there, before his very eyes, you do the one thing he'd dreaded all those months ago when the lie slipped past his lips, you crumbled.

A/n: Just a quick snippet of something that may potentially become something. .

[reallyromealone]

Taiyaki mule

Mikey x son reader

Male reader

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷

Did Mikey train his kid to do nonsense? Absolutely.

Did he regret it?

Absolutely not.

Little name waddled at a fast pace from his dad's office, the guards watching him as he ran to the kitchen where Koko was setting down boxes of treats "ah yes, turn around" Koko motioned to the little toddler and unzipping the (cartoon) backpack he wore and put the boxes of Taiyaki in, zipping it up "thank you uncle Koko!" (Name) hugged the executives legs before speed waddling back to his dad "straight up Mikey's Taiyaki mule..." Ran joked as he took a sip of his whiskey.

"Papa! I got da 'yaki!" (Name) said excitedly as he pushed the heavy glass door closed and Mikey pressed a switch to blur the glass around them "good boy" he mumbled turning his son to help him take the backpack off and setting it on the table, lifting his kid into his lap "let's see what we got" Mikey mumbled taking out the boxes "kitty!" (Name) pointed to the variety pack and Mikey hummed " opening it and handing the boy the Taiyaki "here" he gave the tot the treat and little (name) did his little snack dance before eating it "(flavor)!" (Name) said offering his dad a bite and Mikey took a small bite.

Last time he took a big bite and (name) cried for an hour.

"It's Good.." Mikey mumbled and the two ate their respective treats.

Mikey took (name) most places, didn't trust nannies or he had one of the executives or Sanzu watch him.

"Wanna go get drinks?" Mikey asked his son who nodded, crawling off his lap and his dad helped him get his backpack on and watched him tot out.