#i jus like my lil floor spot more :D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jungshookz · 3 years

Note

EEEK cee imagine grumpy!yn and jimin where jimin falls asleep on the floor in their lil hangout spot bc he stayed up the night before and yn jus secretly admiring jimin’s adorable sleeping face while caressing his hair THEN jimin wakes up when yn leaned in for a kiss on his forehead :3:3:3

➺ pairing; sunshiney!jimin x grumpy!y/n

➺ genre; of course this is fluff!!! fluffier than the clouds that jimin makes y/n look at and tell him what animal she thinks it looks closest to :D (he thinks it looks like a bunny and she thinks it looks like a.,,. idk man that’s literally just a lump)

➺ wordcount; 1.3k

➺ p.s. you’ll be able to find this in the teeny tidbits masterlist later on :’)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————-　☁️　————-««

“oh my god, do you hear that?” yoongi gasps, placing a hand on your shoulder before holding a finger up in the air, “that’s incredible.”

“what are you talking about?” you frown, looking around as well before shrugging his hand off your shoulder, “i don’t hear anything.”

you and namjoon exchange confused glances and he offers you his own shrug before looking over at yoongi for further explanation

“exactly. it’s nothing. it’s… silence.” yoongi whispers, “i haven’t heard it in so long because jimin’s always destroying it with his motormouth-”

okAy

now you see what he’s going on about

“hey, cut it out-” you roll your eyes before shifting your shoulder slightly so that jimin’s head isn’t at a weird angle and that he won’t wake up with a weird kink in his neck, “he was up all night working on a paper and he’s tired.” you murmur, reaching over and pulling your cardigan up so that it covers his chest a little more

“you know, you were way more fun before you started dating jimin.” yoongi scoffs, pursing his lips in disappointment as he leans back against his palms, “when two people are making fun of someone, it’s all fun and games, but when it’s just me doing it alone, i look like an asshole-”

“oh, cry me a river.”

“see?? why can’t you be like that when you’re talking about jimin?? i miss the old y/n.”

you move to shove yoongi down to the ground but you stop yourself when you realize that you could accidentally wake jimin up prematurely

poor jimin was up until six this morning working on a dumb twenty-page report for one of his courses - he read his schedule wrong and it turns out that the report was due this tuesday and not next tuesday, and to be honest, he’s really not sure how he even made that mix-up in the first place because he’s usually always on top of things (you were on top of him when he was typing all of this into his phone so that might’ve had something to do with it)

and he normally gets up around seven-ish on a regular basis which means he literally only got an hour of sleep before he had to get up and get ready for the day

you already knew that he had pulled an all-nighter (you even offered to stay up with him and make him coffee if he needed it but you ended up falling asleep around twenty minutes after you’d made your bold offer) so you weren’t too surprised when you looked over halfway through lunch to see that he’d fallen asleep leaning back against the tree with his mouth wide open

yoongi nearly persuaded you into dropping a chunk of dirt into his open mouth but luckily you decided against doing that

and it didn’t look like he was very comfortable which was why you scooted yourself closer to him and gently pushed his head down so that he could rest on your shoulder

but that was an hour and a bit ago and jimin’s still fast asleep

and you’re pretty sure there’s dried drool on your arm but that’s okay

“-you know, it’s like i don’t even know who you are anymore.” yoongi tuts, shaking his head at you, “one minute, you’re happy to roll your eyes and insult jimin to his face, and the next, you’re cozying up to him like his girlfriend and straight-up fawning over him-”

“i- i am his girlfriend, you dolt-”

“i know, but like- well, you know what i mean.” yoongi flicks his wrist to dismiss you before turning his nose up towards the sky, “you get it.”

“i can honestly say i truly don’t, yoongi.”

yes, it’s fairly evident to see that you’ve changed quite a bit since getting together with jimin, but you like to think that you changed for the better!

you don’t wake up with a scowl on your face every morning which is definitely a good sign, right?

and now instead of staying silent during lunch and looking like you want nothing more than to watch the world burn, you actually contribute to conversations with everyone else and genuinely enjoy talking to them as long as jimin’s right there next to you

of course, you have to admit that you still have a slight issue with PDA (which is why you’ve been moving your shoulder and trying to get jimin to wake up without making it seem like you’re purposely trying to wake him up) but that’s a conversation for another time

the point is, things are good with jimin

things are really, really good with jimin.

you crane your neck to look back down at your boyfriend again, reaching over to brush some of his hair away from his eyes

his nose twitches slightly and he mutters something under his breath before turning his body towards you and snuggling into your warmth, wrapping his arms around your elbow and squishing his cheek against your shoulder

“cute.” you hum, reminding yourself to suppress your grin of delight so that no one teases you about how squealy you’re being right now

you find yourself leaning down a little so you can give jimin a kiss on the forehead, your lips lingering against his warm forehead for a second before you pull away and look back to make sure that no one just saw you do that (god forbid anyone see you show even an inkling of affection for your boyfriend!)

luckily it seems like the late afternoon sun beaming down on you guys is making everyone feel a little lethargic so no one was paying attention to y-

“did you just kiss my forehead?”

you freeze immediately when you hear jimin suddenly speak up and you clear your throat obnoxiously before raising your shoulder so that he gets his head off of it, “what? no. i think you were probably dreaming or something because forehead kissing is-” you chuckle lightly, pulling your legs up slightly and dusting some dirt off your calves, “it’s not something that i… i don’t do things like that, so- no. no, i didn’t kiss any foreheads.”

your eyes widen in surprise when jimin suddenly lies down and flops his head down on your lap, grinning up at you with twinkling eyes as he reaches up to poke the tip of your nose, “you soOoooOo have a crush on me.”

side note: it’s truly baffling to you that jimin never wakes up groggy

he’s always ready to go as soon as his eyes open and it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever

it’s almost like he has an on and an off switch somewhere and if that’s the case you would very much like to find his off switch so you can shut him up before someone else decides to chime in to the conversation

“we’re- we’re dating, jimin-” you scowl, flicking his hand away from your face before clearing your throat again, “...obviously i have a friggin’ crush on you if we’re in a goddamn relationship-”

“what are you grumbling about over there now, y/n?” namjoon interrupts you from across the circle, glancing up at you and jimin for a split second from behind his screen, “i’m trying to get some work done and i can’t focus with all the secret muttering-”

“y/n has a crush on me.” jimin teases, crossing his arms over his chest before closing his eyes again, “a super FAT crush on me.”

he cracks an eye open just to see your reaction and he’s pleasantly surprised to see that your entire face is basically beet-red from this fun little game he’s playing

what do you have to be so embarrassed about??

you already said yourself that the two of you are dating so it’s an obvious fact that you have feelings for him

he just likes to remind everyone that you, a typically emotionless, cold-hearted robot, have feelings for him!

“oh, we know!” namjoon plays along with a grin, loving that you look like you want nothing more than to curl into a ball and just scream, “you think we didn’t see that forehead kiss?”

“park jimin, you sick... twisted man.” yoongi purses his lips as he shakes his head slowly, “look what you’ve done to her! you’ve ruined her!!”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

270 notes · View notes

angelicspaceprince · 4 years

Text

Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

Author: Ama

Title: Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

Pairing: Scarabee/Reader, Ciarog/Reader, Escarabajo/Reader, Scarafaggio/Reader, Zhuk/Reader

Character/s: Scarabee, Ciarog, Escarabajo, Scarafaggio, Zhuk,

Word Count: 4, 107 words

Warnings: NSFW, a lot of eating out, smexy times, 18+ only please.

Tags: @imma-fucking-nerd, @im-eating-rn@im-eating-rn

Prompt: Beetlejuice thought the most beautiful sound in the universe was the sound of screaming. You are here to prove him wrong of that notion.

Notes: So, for those who don’t know, there is a discord group and we’ve come up with 5 different dons for Mafia AU Beetlejuice. Something was brought up about one of them being caught eating the reader out and being punished for it or something to that degree and I promised @realmonsterboyhours that I’d write a crackfic on it. Here it is. Enjoy. Also, thanks to @monsterlovinghours for helping me with Cia, check that blog out for more info on the boys as Linds has posted about all of them, including what they look like, personalities etc.

Buy Me a Coffee

Addiction (Alt: Smooch Me On The Goddamn Mouf Hax)

To say that Bajo had an oral fixation was, if anything, a massive understatement. The few times he licked your face, you figured that was weird. But when he finally got to your legs and spent hours marking up your thighs before even touching what laid between them? It was official. Boy has a leg kink and loved to use that blasted tongue of his.

Shortly after the two of you started banging, he developed a bit of a…. habit. You lost the need for an alarm clock because every morning when you decided to sleep in his bed or alone in yours, you’d wake up to the demon between your legs, drinking at your slick as you ride out your orgasm. Then he’d pull away, proudly tell you how many times you came in your sleep, before moving back in to finish what he claimed to be his breakfast.

At first, it only happened if you were alone or if you slept in his room. You knew it was a one-way ticket to being woken up in the best way possible. But, you had to give your other boys some loving too.

You didn’t think Bajo would actually attempt to sneak in, you figured he’d leave you alone to the others so then everyone got a share of time with you. Evidently, you were wrong.

You were confused when you woke up, your body felt hot and muscles relaxed, heat radiating from your belly as you come to realise someone was making a home between your legs. It throws you in a loop because you can still feel Bee next to you, not stirring, not yet, and yet there was a tongue lapping away at your juices as your body continues to shudder its way through its orgasm.

“3.” You hear a voice say with a snicker before the telltale sign of hands tracing nails up your thighs as his tongue slides up to start to pay more attention to your clit.

Bajo rolls out of the bed with a loud oof, hitting the floor hard as Bee’s leg seemingly comes out of nowhere and kicks him in the ribs. “Laissez la dame dormir ou je vous arracherai les membres.” Came his threat, voice still laden with sleep but commanding nonetheless as he pulls you in close.

“Oh, come on amigo, no es como si ella se estuviera quejando.” Bajo retorts as he moves to stand and make his way back to his position with your thighs wrapped around his head. Before he could even fully stand, he was tackled to the ground and pounced on by five of Bee’s shadows.

“I never said ya weren’t invited to watch, amigo. Settle d- Oi!” He tries to kick at the shadow trying to get a kick at his balls, failing when another catches his leg and manages to hold it still. “Alright, alright, get your damn shadows off me!” Bee merely hums to respond as he moves to press a small kiss at the base of your neck, keeping you press flushed against him.

“Good morning, cherie.”

“Morning. You gonna let him up?”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You look up at him, his eyes glowing with mischief.

“C’mon love. It’s too early for this. Plus I wanna sleep a lil more with you. I can’t do that with that in the background.” You point to indicate the continuous protests coming from the man on the floor, now being held on his stomach with his hands on his back as the shadows take shots at his ribs. Bee rolls his eyes and waves his hand to dismiss the shadows, anything for you.

“Ah, thanks for that!” He stands up and stretches. “Think I could have another taste, mi amor?”

“Get out Bajo!” The both of you shout, pointing to the door in sync.

~~~

You were certain that Zhuk was too intimidating a figure for Bajo to actually attempt to come in his room. But then again, Bajo was an idiot and would try anything if it meant time to have a taste of you.

This time, however, you didn’t wake up to pleasure. You woke up to pain. With a loud gasp as you feel your thigh erupt in a painful heat, you sit up just in time to see your small black cat who always slept with Zhuk no matter what anyone said dart off into the corner. You rip back the covers to see a very guilty looking Bajo staring up at you, thumb rubbing over your now slightly bleeding thigh. His back is weeping small amounts of blood, by the looks of it, your kitty wasn’t too impressed at the weird bulge that had appeared between your legs overnight and wanted to make her discontent known. “Morning maripos-ah!” He shouts out in shock as Zhuk grabs him from the back of the neck and silently pulls him off the bed and towards the door, holding him so he is a few inches from the ground as he kicks and struggles. Zhuk opens the door and very unceremoniously throws the smaller man out, causing him to hit the wall and then the floor with two very loud bangs. “Oi! I barely even got to six this ti-” Zhuk slams the door in his face before moving back to crawl up the bed and next to you.

“Does it hurt, roza?” His large hand grabs at your knee to move your thigh so he can see the small wound, already beginning to heal up as he rubs at the reddened area, moving his hand to cover every new bruise Bajo had managed to create.

“No no, it’s fine now.” You move in to rest your head on his chest, already starting to fall back asleep. “Five more minutes?”

“Of course tsarina.”

~~~~~

You knew by now that it was going to happen, regardless of who you spent the night with. Granted, he gave you time to allow your legs to heal after the last incident, mostly out of fear of what Zhuk and Bee would do to him if he didn’t. But, eventually, your legs healed up and you were able to sit properly again. Which meant Bajo felt like he had a free invitation to his favourite snack.

When you woke up, you feel warm and fuzzy, muscles relaxed with your pussy clenching. Your thighs are wet to your knees and your entire body just feels hot. You could hear the telltale sign of Gio using his cane, smacking down on someone who was clearly protesting his attack as he rants in angry Italian. “Idiota! Non puoi farmi passare una notte con la nostra ragazza, no, devi entrare e rovinarlo! Merda stupida per il cervello! Ha appena guarito! Il tuo pasto preferito, ti batterò nel giro di un centimetro della tua vita.” You turn to see a very angry Gio beating a dishevelled but clearly pleased Bajo, mouth and jaw covered in your slick as he makes a show of cleaning his mouth and fingers between each wack.

“Amigo, you’re just jealous I got our lovely little mariposa to orgasm on my tongue five times before you realised what was happening.” You roll your eyes as Gio starts his assault again.

“Gio? Baby?” You ask, purposefully making your voice small so both boys turn around instantly to look at you. “Come back to bed?”

Gio softens instantly. “Piccola, I will I’m jus-”

“Please?” You whine out. “Want cuddles with you baby.” You reach out your arms and start making a grabby motion with your hands. “Come cuddle with me, please?”

Gio seems to falter before dropping his cane and moving back to the bed, you scooting backwards so he has room to join you, his arms wrapping around you until he can trace light patterns on your back, your head resting on his chest with a small, content smile. None of them could really turn you down for anything and, in times like this, it really did work to your advantage.

“Think you can move on over there?” Bajo asks, standing at the edge of the bed, clearly keen to join in the cuddle session. You can practically feel Gio heat up with anger at this.

“Esci! Stupido, pomposo, stupido, figlio di puttana-” He shouts, causing Bajo to leave with a snicker before Gio changes his mind and continues to give him a caning.

~~~~~

By now, you knew nowhere was safe. You knew you’d wake up with the Spaniard between your legs no matter where you slept in the house. But, you figured, that if you slept with one of the others that you were protected from at least being over stimmed so early in the morning, to the point that you would rather spend the rest of the day in bed rather than leave your room.

Cia had pointed out that you had yet to share a bed with him, and he was right to a degree. The few times you fell asleep in the Irishman’s room, both of you had been drunk and he had quite literally kicked you out of bed, leading you to walk back into your room to sleep the alcohol off. Still. The two of you weren’t really drinking tonight. And perhaps Cia would be better at protecting you from your nightly visitor.

You woke up with a gasp, eyes instantly locking with a pair of mischievous hazel ones, a fire lit in them. You barely get out a grunt as you feel your thighs shake around the head of the man currently rubbing two of his fingers against your g-spot, tongue assaulting your clit as you continue to come loudly, eyes rolling in the back of your head. You feel slightly warmed metal teeth brush against your thighs as he pulls back to nibble at your flesh, damp with your slick as you pant, turning over to Cia. “You’re not going to stop him?”

Something flashes in his eyes. “And miss the show? Mo grá, you don’t know me very well, do you?” The smile he sends your way causes a shiver down your spine as you feel Bajo chuckle lightly against your skin, your head snapping down when you feel him move to bite and suck another mark onto your thigh, Cia’s hand grasping onto your chin and pulling it face him. “Ag dul chun bheith ina cailín maith dúinn, piscín?” You whimper as you feel the man beneath you slowly slide back up to run the flat of his tongue up the length of your pussy, groaning lowly at the taste.

“Ci-ah!” You grind up against Bajo’s face as his lips wrap around your clit and he starts to draw powerful sucks, causing your whole body to wrack as the already over-sensitive organ starts to take another beating. “How- How many?” You barely get out as Cia coos.

“Eight.” You hear Bajo say against your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes squeeze shut as you roll your hips. Towards him or away from him you aren’t entirely sure, but you do whine in protest when he pulls back, resting his chin on your thigh as he looks up at you with a wicked grin. “Creo que esta mañana es el día en que llegamos a los veinte. ¿Qué te parece mi amigo?”

“20? I’m sure we can aim for more than that, can’t we?” You whimper at the number, shaking your head as Bajo moves back to push his tongue inside of you, wanting to have a taste of you straight from the source. “Hush, mo ghrá. Lig do Bajo aire a thabhairt duit anois.” Cia chastises as your head rolls towards him.

You move to protest. “Too many.” You say quietly. There is no way, on this progressively not to green earth, that you would be able to come twenty times at the hands of these two and survive. “Ple-ugh.” You gasp when you feel a sharp pinch at your nipples, Cia clearly not too impressed with your protest.

“Oh, don’t fight it now, lie back against me love.” He instructs, bringing you closer to him as you let out a small whimper, much to his amusement. “A piscín, an é go léir atá agat dúinn? Tar ar aghaidh anois, tá mé cinnte gur féidir leat a bheith níos airde ná sin.” Your cries become louder as Bajo’s thumb moves to stroke at your clit, fingers replacing his tongue as he massages at your g-spot, causing you to buck and whine.

“Oh, nuestro pequeño pájaro cantor. Cantas tan bellamente para nosotros.” You feel his metal teeth bite down on your thigh again, this time piercing your flesh as small droplets of red chase their way down to the bed, eyes squeezing shut as you try to focus on every single sensation.

“Keep those eyes open, darlin',” Cia reminds you. Your eyes snap back open obediently, “look at the way he's making your thighs tremble. Does it feel good, hm?” You turn to look down, eyes locking with Bajo’s as he just grins up at you, hand moving so his fingers pump slowly in and out as he continues to suck at the skin of your shaking thigh.

“I- uh. Feels. Hnn.” You give up on words, hips moving to roll in time with the movement of his fingers.

“It must, you can barely string two words together.” Cia comments in amusement.

“Can’t think.” You tell them, and it's true. The fog of your early morning haze has mixed with the fog of coming too many times, being brought back to that edge and Cia whispering in your ear was completely taking over all other functions. You couldn’t think, could barely string your words together, barely remember every word you hear the boys say to you, all that was left was to feel which just made you all that much foggier.

“Shh, pequeña. No pienses, solo siente.” Bajo says from beneath you.

“Falling.” You say with a gasp, hands moving to grasp at the bedsheets as your brain finally succumbed to the fog.

“Eso es, enamórate de nosotros, pequeño amor. No te preocupes Te atraparemos.” You whine as his thumb is removed from your clit, only to be replaced by his mouth, tongue flicking in between strong sucks.

You try to bite back your sounds, the last little bit of you wanting to fight back resorting to ‘you don’t deserve to hear how good you make me feel’ but you fail miserably as Cia’s hand starts to trace up and down your body, pinching at you to keep you on your toes, mind so distracted from everything you’re feeling, you almost miss what’s being said.

“-so soft, so sweet. Oh, leanbh, we might just make a meal of you yet.” Cia purrs in your ear, chuckling lowly when you whine loudly, hips bucking up into Bajo’s mouth. “Would you like that? To be feasted on?” His grin widens as you nod furiously, a strangled version of both their names passing through your lips between heavy breaths as you feel your body tense in anticipation for number nine, Bajo groaning when he realises you’re close again as he seems to start attacking your clit with more vigour, trying to bring you over the edge once more. Cia leans in closer to continue, breath hot against your ear as his hands hold your hips down to stop you from grinding up against Bajo’s tongue. “Oh, look at you, mo stór. So desperate to come again. Oh, little one, we're so hungry for you, hungry for your pleasure. Give it to us. Give in to us. Let your body surrender, sweetheart, there you go.” He coos when you shudder around Bajo with a broken moan, body twitching as Cia moves to bite at your neck, the same time Bajo moves to place yet another bruise to your thigh. “Ó, beag ardaigh, conas is breá linn go bhfaigheann tú teacht slán.”

A few seconds pass before you feel Bajo’s tongue lapping away the excess slick, only this wasn’t a cleanup. No, he was very pointedly warming up to make you come again. You protest with a whine. “One more, pequeña?” Your eyes flicker down to his. “Just one more.” You can handle one more? Surely? You nod once and that’s all he needs to delve back into your heat with a loud noise of content when he has your taste on his tongue again.

It doesn’t take long. You were nine orgasms in and your body was tuned ready for ten. Cia is instantly at your ear, murmuring lowly in a mix of Gaelic and English, slowly coaxing you to the edge. But your body doesn’t seem to want to go over, get you to the double-digit tally that both the boys insist you reach this morning. Cia, for one, is not giving up without a fight. “Come for him, darlin', he wants you to. Can't you see it in his eyes, the way he's begging you to drown him with it?” When you look down, Bajo does indeed look desperate for you to come once more, eyes bright and burning as he moans against your sex, addicted to your taste as his tongue leaves your clit to delve into your wet heat, thumb moving up to take its place. You let out a small whine, eyes not leaving his for a second. “Give in, ailleacht, come for us. Let us carry you over the edge."

That’s all it takes to tip you over the edge, words purred in your ear as your body convulses, a scream leaves your lips as you ride out a near painful orgasm being ripped from your body. You can hear dark chuckles from next to your ear and between your thighs before Cia whispers lowly in your ear, “Sin é, ceann beag, scread dúinn.”

When you come down from your high, your entire body is shaking, you can feel Bajo press gentle kisses down your thighs as he lowers them from his shoulders before he slides up your body until he is hovering over you. To your horror, his face is positively dripping with your slick, his giant shit-eating grin showing you just how pleased he is of that fact. “Buenos dias mariposa.” He greets before moving down to kiss you fully on your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue before he not-so-gracefully falls to your other side, bringing you in close as Cia follows, the same look on his face.

“Maidin, álainn.” He purrs. You snuggle into his chest, Bajo’s forehead pressed against the base of your neck as he curls around you.

“I hate you both.”

“No you don’t.”

You let out a huff of air in annoyance when, yet again, Cia was right. But only just. “I’m never sleeping in this room again.” They both laugh because, again, they both know it's not true. “I’m sleepy.”

“Go to sleep, querida.” Bajo murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss wherever he can place them. You can hear them both say something to you, but it’s all muffled as you slowly drift back to sleep in their arms.

~~~~~

Choosing to sleep in Bajo’s bed was always an open invitation for him to spend the entire night with his face wrapped between your thighs. You always chose your nights with Bajo carefully because of that fact.

Tonight, you felt like you just needed to be with him. You had all gone out to dinner and it was a rare case where everything was just a disaster. Orders were wrong, food was cold or just gross, wine was corked, everything that could have gone did go wrong. Bajo was a bit sour as it was his choice of restaurant and it had clearly gone downhill since the last time he went there for a meal. So, to soothe his upset self, you changed plans of sharing a bed with Bee to spend the night with Bajo.

As you expected, you barely got through the doors before you were thrown on the bed, shirt and bra having been ripped off in the hallway, and he was crawling up between your thighs, pulling down your pants and panties in one smooth, quick motion. You move your thighs to rest on his shoulders as he glides his tongue down your calf, over your knee, down your inner thigh before moving to lick a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. “Finally.” He says, eyes flickering up to look at you. “Some good fucking food.”

That was it. You instantly unwrap yourself from him and move to the side, holding your sides as you laugh. “Nope. Sex is off. You did not just say that.” You can practically feel his pout as he slides up the bed to press his hands into the mattress, one either side of your head as he waits for the giggles to subside, eyes warm as he watches your amused face with a smile before moving in to kiss you deeply.

“Let me have my dinner?” He asks when he pulls back, causing you to giggle again.

“I can’t take you seriously now, Bajo.” You shake your head. “If you’re lucky, you can have me for breakfast again.” He hrumphs as he moves to lay next to you on the bed, pulling you close so his entire body is pressed up against you.

“Te amo, mi pequeña mariposa.” He says quietly against your skin.

“I love you too, you dumb fucking himbo.” You tease, laughing when he growls and bites down on your shoulder as a warning. Damn, this boy be feral and bitey.

The next morning, you weren’t surprised at all to feel him slide down your body, sending a wink your way when he notices you’re up as he positions himself, ready to absolutely devour you.

Misc Scene That Didn’t Quite Make It:

The first time Bajo went down on you, it was like a religious experience. It was a lazy Sunday with just the two of you in the smoking room when he got a glint in his eye and slowly slid out from under you and between your thighs. At first, you thought he was just going to mark you up a little again, his favourite place to be when the six of you snuggling is, after all, on top of your thighs and you never left without a minimum of six bite marks. But, it wasn’t until he was pulling away your panties with his teeth did you realise his end game.

You are certain he spent hours with his mouth glued to your pussy, as if he was trying to print the taste into his memory and sear the spots that made you cry out into his brain. He brought you to the edge over and over, pulling back when he felt you were close to watch you squirm and glare at him, nipping at your thighs whenever you protest.

When he finally let you come, you swear you saw stars. Your body arches as you scream, mostly in relief, hand having been weaved in his hair for at least an hour and a half by now pulling at his roots as it clenches, hips moving up to rock against his face as he drinks in everything you have to offer him. Your body finally laxes into the leather seat beneath you as you try to catch your breath when Bajo’s lips are suddenly against yours, hands-on your spread knees as his tongue works its way into your mouth so you can taste yourself mixed with him. When he pulls back, you can’t help it.

Slowly, you raise your hands to clap causing him to chuckle. “Wow.”

He does a few small bows from his place on his knees between your legs. “Thank you, thank you! I’d like to think of myself as a humble man- ow!” He swats your hand away as you smack him across the back of the head with a laugh.

“You’re such a twit.”

“You love me.”

“Do I though?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at his cocky answer. “So…. did you enjoy yourself up there, dulce?” He asks with a grin.

“No Bajo, I had an awful time.” You sass causing him to laugh as he moves to nip at your thigh again as a playful warning. “Any chance for an encore?” You ask cheekily as his eyes flash, a giant smirk appearing on his face.

“For you? Of course, mi amor.”

60 notes · View notes

stormyweaver · 4 years

Text

Okay so... *ahem* I feel like so far, my lil’ fics I’ve posted have had a decent balance of snz + story, which I personally like to read when I browse through stories in general. But uh... if you’re looking for balance/canon stuff/awesome wordiness, this ain’t it lol. This is pure indulgence that I drummed up one night and swore I would never show anyone. Then I decided ‘Eh, maybe someone else might get a kick out of it’ so! Without further stalling, here’s some pre-season 1 Wa/lking D/ead featuring Rick and Shane during their police academy days.

"C'mon man, quit fightin' it!" "Shade, I swear to God I'm gonna... g-gonna..." "Gonna sneeze again? Hell, blind man could'a told ya' that," While a grinning Shane leaned against the end of the bed, Rick reclined off the side, hands shakily hovering over his nose. He'd had a cold for the past three days, and it finally made a head the day BEFORE their fucking latest physical test was scheduled. He could deal with the fatigue, aches and general malaise - he’d pushed through worse - but did he really have to sneeze every other minute?! "Ugh, n'do, I'mb-- hih!" Rheumy eyes glazed over, close to slamming shut as his nose twitched, tingles running rampant along the lining of his sinuses. He could fight it, he could, he just had to concentrate... "Swear to God, man, you look like you're about to cum," That- that did it. "hhiiIh-- ihhTSCHH! Hih'TXSHH! iiHHSHH! ih'SHH! 'TSHH!" The fit landed into his cupped palms point blank, each one spilling out until his body figured itself satisfied. Groaning, Rick grimaced at the mess left behind on his palms, leaning over to pluck a tissue from the box on his nightstand. "I'b blamig' you for that," Meanwhile, Shane merely side-eyed his friend, a light smirk on his lips."Told ya'. Bless you, anyway, like - times five? Shit, never could keep count with you," Teasing Rick had to be his favorite pastime, even vying for first with boning the hot chick from the local bar on the weekends. He was just too easy to get under the skin of, especially with how pathetically miserably he appeared. Though, Shane couldn't deny that, this particular jabbing session had an underlying purpose. After spending the last couple of days with a walking germ incubator, he'd already begun to feel a sore throat coming on day two. Now, there was a distinct heaviness lining his lungs, a sluggish lag creeping into his bones, and damn if he didn't wanna claw his own sinuses out. But like hell would he ever let Rick onto that fact. No willingly giving ammunition for being harped on, it simply wasn't allowed between them. The sound of Rick gently blowing his nose caught Shane's attention, another chuckle passing through his lips. "Can't imagine how you're breathin' through all that gunk, man," Going back to his book, Shane flinched as he felt something soft, papery and distinctly damp land atop his hand. Gagging, he quickly flicked the used tissue to the side, "Oh, fuckin' sick, asshole!" Turning around to reach up, he grappled for Rick's flannel to pull him onto the floor, but the other wasn't going without a fight. "Take's one to know one!" he shot back, shifting so he was on his belly and pushing himself back off the edge and out of Shane's grasp. Even the slight tousle had Rick coughing into his fist, but Shane didn't back down. Closing his book, he crawled atop the bed, taking the momentarily preoccupied Rick and pinning him down -- wrists in hand, knees locking his legs into place. Grunting in defiance, Rick shot daggers at his friend, not enough to really show anything besides a large irritation, though. "Dick," Shane merely shrugged, leaning in a bit to sing-song, "Take's one to know one~" with a snicker. Rick could only roll his eyes, sniffling heavily as he-- Oh, shit. He was gonna sneeze again. Though it would have been the ultimate revenge, the merciful part of Rick really didn't want to stack up the odds of his friend catching this. After all, Shane fit the mold when it came to who was a bigger asshole between them. Couldn’t go ruining that dynamic. "Shane, lem'be up," he insisted, shifting his hips between Shane's fucking thunder thighs as he wrinkled his nose tight. "Uh-uh, not 'til you say you're sorry 'bout tossing your snot rag at me..." His tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, "...aaaand you admit that I'm better at puttin' together a Remington. 'Cause you know it's the truth," Snorting, though Rick couldn't identify if it was indignant or reflexive, he began to squirm in earnest, shaking his head. "I-I'm serious, man, lebbe up, I gotta..." Rick felt his lungs begin to spasm, breath catching on the last word. Still clueless, Shane rose a brow at his friend, "What’s more important than tellin’ me I’m right? Nice try, but, nah. Jus' say it an' I'll let ya' go, brother," A sudden huff exited Rick's lungs, and this time his eyes rolled up in preparation of the sneezes just itching to barrel out of him. Shit, he had to move--! "S-Shane, I... I gotta... hiihhh!..." Oh, screw it, he wasn't gonna go through this again. Maybe it was time for a little bit of payback for all that teasing. It seemed by the time Shane had put two and two together, brows raising just as Rick tilted his head back, flared nostrils exposed and damp. "hh'ITSHH'uh! ih'TSHHH'uh! hih'ISHHU!" Whether it was shock or slowed reflexes, Shane got hit smack in the face with the first one, raising an arm to shield himself from the next pair. He groaned in tandem with Rick, who allowed his head to fall back with a thick snuffle. "Ugh, damb that felt good," and a mildly satisfied smirk. Wait, his hand was free-- YES! Ignoring his streaming nose with another sniffle, Rick took Shane's momentary stunned state and flipped him onto his back, reversing their position in under two seconds. "You fuckin'--!" Shane started, attempting to break free from Rick's grasp, but even with a cold the man still knew how to pin someone down. Nostrils flared, Shane sighed and glanced off to the side, swearing again before peering up at Rick with a grimace. "Seriously couldn'ta warned me before ya' sprayed all that shit on my face?" A scoff flew past Rick's lips. "I tried! You wouldn't listen, stubborn ass," Sighing, he glanced down between them before giving Shane an exasperated look. "What, you wanna get me back?" Well... maybe it was kinda too far. Definitely gross. Shane had asked for it, but, Rick honestly hated seeing that hurt puppy dog look on the others face. Damn struck sympathy chords. "... Alright here, you can punch me in the arm, alright? That make ya' feel any better?" Before he could get an answer, Shane had been silently fighting an internal battle of his own. While Rick tried and failed miserably to stave off his fittish sneezes, Shane had actually been doing a fair job of ignoring the tingling within his own crooked nose. But with all the rough and tumbling, and surprise from being sprayed in the face, tingling had morphed into an all out itch. His expression was already going slack, eyes lidded as his lips parted to suck in air so as to fuel the inevitable sneeze. Rick, knowing that expression all too well by now, groaned and tilted his head to the side. "Jus' make it quick, man," Shane managed to gasp out a chuckle, bunching his nose up and down as the tickle worked his sinuses. "T-tryin', man," Fuck, he had to sneeze so bad, why wasn't it coming out?! He sniffed, heavily, feeling his chest expand beneath Rick -- and then nothing. Groaning, he squirmed a bit under Rick, his left leg beginning to job from the anxiousness of waiting. "Fuck, man, i-ihhh... i-it won't come out!" He gasped in disbelief, feeling ridiculous as his expression twisted all from a stupid tickle in his nose. Oh. Oh, geez. Rick glanced back to Shane in a mixture of awkwardness and pity - he knew how much a stuck sneeze sucked ass. And as much as his friend deserved at least a part of this, he wasn't a complete jerk. "Alright, alright hold on," Letting go of his wrists, Rick leaned over and yanked another tissue from the box, trying to ignore how... weird it felt, having Shane kinda writhing underneath him. "Tried this the other night, an'... look, it's weird okay?" He sighed, fingers twisting the tissue until it reached a fine point, "But it works so, jus' shut up and lemme help ya'," Shane wasn't about to say no - he'd wanted to sneeze in the first place, now this was just getting ridiculous. "I-I'd try snortin' p-pepper at tthis point," But, he reckoned a tissue would be a lot less painful. He tried not to tense up as his friend brought the implement to his nostrils, but he couldn't help seizing up once it slid past the rim. "huuhh--uhhh-uuUUH--" Still, nothing but build up, and he let out an audible groan. Rick tried not to wince at his friend's obvious discomfort, biting down hard as he attempted to wiggle the tool deeper into his nose. "Jus' try and relax, s'what I had to do. Uh... t-think of somethin' that makes ya' sneeze. Like that one girls perfume, last month, remember? Shit, thought you'd just about sneeze out the entire club that night, firin' one after the other. Think'a that, okay?" Oh God, that... Shane could recall with almost perfect clarity that night, not too long ago. Whatever cheap, heady scent the girl had on, it did NOT agree with his sinuses. Shane had little problem sneezing then, barely able to get a word in-between, and Rick all but led him out into the night air. But, it stuck with him, all over his clothes, his hair... so tickly... and he'd been so.... so fucking sneezy... "Hhhhoooh God, R-rick...! T-t-think it-- think it's wuhh-huh! w-workin'..." Shane's head had tilted back as far as it could go, and this gave Rick better access to really work at his nose. He wiggled the tissue, giving twists as he slid it in and out of his friends nostril. Just seeing the way his expression was falling almost made Rick's own nose twinge in sympathy. "Uhhh-UHHH---!" He'd hit the spot. Rick assaulted the area as best he could, hand clenched onto Shane's shoulder as he encouraged him. "Jus' ooone more..." With that, he flicked the spear, twisting it twice before sliding it out, slowly, from Shane's nose. And that seemed to do it. "huuhh--hHHUUUH---HHH! HH! HHHUURRRUUSHHHOOO!" Shane finally released, so powerful a sneeze that he rose and bumped his forehead against Rick's with the force of it. "Ghh--!" Rick staggered backwards, falling back onto the bed with a hiss as his fingers rose to massage his temple. "Shit," he chuckled, cracking an eye open to glance at Shane, "Damn, when I said fire, I didn't mean liter-- Oh..." Anyone could tell by the hazy desperation on Shane's expression that he wasn't yet finished. Hitching softly, he brushed the knuckle of his index finger against the tip of his nose, a shudder running down his spine before he sneezed again, openly. "hhHUURUSHHHH'UHHh! hHHAHHH'KSHHH AAHHH'SHHH'huh!'hue... Ohhh, fugck," Shane moaned, ignoring the ache in his head in favor of massaging the sides of his nose. It still felt like he could sneeze his brains out, but a little less insistent than before. He sniffled, yes, full on sniffled, feeling tears trickle from his eyes and sighed. "... So, uh... think ya' mighta' got m'be sick," he mumbled stuffily, sniffling again and scrubbing at the side of his nose with a finger.

Rick could only huff out a congested sigh of his own, gazing at his friend with a small, apologetic smile as he passed him the box of Kleenex. “Misery loves company,”

#greywrites;#oof welp #heh #*sinks into the abyss*

67 notes · View notes

juju-on-that-yeet · 4 years

Text

It happened so fast he hadn't realized he even moved. All he knew was that suddenly Illinois was on the ground and his fist felt an all too familiar ache. He couldn't find it in himself to care at that moment. His vision was red and glaring with wideyed anger down at the taller man below him.

"Is that all this is to youse!?"

He bellowed with a voice he barely recognized as his own.

"Some sorta fuckin' pity project!? What, youse feel bad all of a sudden for breakin' the heart of someone youse know? Youse just thinkin' if you play house for a little while, that everythin's gunna go back ta normal, and we can just forget this ever happened!?"

Illinois was holding himself up on his elbow with the tell tale start of bruise blooming by his mouth.

"Yancy, no, that's no-"

"Don't FUCKIN' lie ta me!"

Lio's mouth closed with an audible snap that made him flinch.

"If youse- if youse actually felt anythin' for me, youse wouldn't have jus' let me walk outta your room. Youse wouldn't have fuckin' ignored me for an entire week. Youse know what it felt like? Every time we were in tha same hallway, and youse jus' fuckin pull your hat down over your face like youse some bullshit cowboy?"

Yancy jabbed his finger down at Lio.

"I ain't blind, and youse ain't as slick as youse think you are. Youse couldn't even look at me. Youse were fuckin' disgusted."

"No, Yancy i wasn't d-"

"DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME!"

The greaser's voice echoed down the empty halls and left Illonois' ears ringing in the silence that followed shortly after. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell Yancy just how wrong he was, that he wasn't just doing this out of guilt for hurting his friend.

Yancy's eyes continued to burn into the Lio, forcing every ounce of hatred he had into it, as if sheer will would make the adventurer burst into flames on the spot. But... He couldn't. Even now, humiliated, heart shattered, he just couldn't find it in himself to hate Illinois. The only one he hated was himself.

"I never shoulda left tha prison again. No, i never shoulda left tha prison in tha first place."

Illinois looked like he'd been struck again at those words.

"You... You don't mean that."

"Right, kuz if anyone here is good at sayin' shit they don't mean, it's youse."

Illinois flinched again with a grimace.

"Yancy-"

"Why'd youse come lookin' for me, huh? Why'd youse bother draggin' me back here? Why couldn't youse just leave me be!? I was outta your hair! I was tryin' to forget you, for all our sakes! So why? Youse really get off on breakin' a bastard's heart that much?"

This time it was illinois' eyes that flashed with anger.

"Watch it, Yancy."

If it were under different circumstances, the growl in Lio's voice would have done things to Yancy, but now all he heard was a challenge.

"Sorry, did i hurt your feelin's?"

Now he was just being a dick, and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from sneering at Lio.

"Sucks, don't it?"

Unlike the fairly isolated (yet loud) yelling that clearly warned people to stay away, it was hard to ignore the two bodies pummeling each other down the hallways of the manor. Egos peeked with interest out of doorways to see who was fighting who this time, and most were stunned to find out that is was the jail bird and knockoff Indiana Jones duking it out, throwing each other into walls, exchanging punches, straight up body slamming each other with clear intent to do as much damage possible.

Their falling out had been rumored about, with Wilford insisting it must have been some sort of lovers quarrel, but with how friendly the two had been in the past, to see them exchanging blows was something no one (except the Host) had seen coming. It was also something that nobody wanted to get tangled up in the middle of. So they just watched the fight pass them by.

It's when Illinois clocks Yancy hard enough to send the man stumbling back into the second floor banister that sends the egos into actual alarm. There's a resounding snap when he connects, and then he's not stopping. It's like time has slowed to a crawl. Illinois saw the realization dawn on Yancy's face as he's falling, the anger in his hazen eyes disappearing, swept away in the wide eyed wave of fear that washed over him like a rip tide pulling him down and out to sea. Lio couldn't move fast enough. His body moved like it was being dragged through mud, arm outstretched, reaching, grasping desperately for his former friend as he sinks out of view below the floor. His vision blurred, images splitting in fractals of red and blue around him as he reached the ledge to stare down at what he'd done. But when he peered over the remains of the railing down to the floor below, he didn't find the tiled floors stained in a spreading pool of blood, nor the dull emptiness of Yancy's eyes. Instead he saw... Nothing. Just the same pristine tiles of the foyer under him.

"... Yancy?"

Before Lio could act upon his shock, his vision blurs and once again splits into reds and blues, then all he sees is black.

(Im starting to get sick so imma send you what i got kuz there's no guarentee I'll finish this. No betas we die like men.)

---

OM FUCKIN G??????

BRUH IM

NOOOOOO DUDE I’M FUCKIN GONE I DIDN’T EXPECT THEM TO BOTH START FUCKIN GOIN AT IT AND THEN YANCY FUCKIN F E L L AND ???????? DID DARK SAVE THE BOY???????? I GOTTA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS (i mean i would obviously love to see more but no pressure fam)

AND HEY!!! I SAW THE LIL REFERENCES TO WORSE THINGS!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU FOR INCLUDING THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M G O N E MY DUDE

#submission #yancy/illinois #markiplier #kristin says stuff #ASKFHLAGDFGSSGDL #WHEN WILL I STOP YELLING? THE ANSWER IS NEVER

11 notes · View notes

crusnikroxas · 6 years

Text

The Routine (18+)

**Author Note**

MafiaFell Sans x Reader

Word count: 7670 (....yeah, I went crazy, I’m sorry T-T)

This is part of the first prize from the raffle for the lovely @malenchka! :3 And yes, this is crazy long. >.> This is why I never bother to put a word limit on my one-shots - if I get too excited by a prompt, prepare for this madness. o.o

And dear ol’ Sansy actually turned out to be a hell of a lot less kinky than I expected him to turn out in this one. So it’s....pretty vanilla. But romantic as fuck. So have fun with that ;D

**End Note**

It all started at your workplace.

You’d never asked for any trouble – as a matter of fact, you made a point of avoiding anything of the sort; a tough thing to do in the dark city of Ebott, where various mafia families ran rampant and strip clubs littered every corner. But conflict had always frightened you; so you kept to yourself, kept your head down, and kept to your safe routine.

Or rather, a routine that used to be safe.

That fateful day had started well enough. You’d woken up at 6:30am sharp, got yourself dressed into suitable attire (thankfully an assistant shopkeeper’s uniform was as modest as they came – another thing you thought kept you relatively safe), did what little cleaning needed to be done around your tiny apartment (the best you could afford on your wage), and headed out for another work day. And you liked working at the little corner-shop – the old man who owned the place had always been extremely kindly towards you, even letting you take home any unsold produce at the end of the day. Plus the shop was as close as could be to where you lived; just across the road, in fact.

Sure, the routine got boring, but you were more than happy to put up with such things – it was better than the ‘excitement’ that young girls sought out when joining speakeasies as singers, only to be brutally killed off in the streets within the week. The only ones who seemed to survive walked a pretty fine line in terms of staying that way, ferrying information from mafia to mafia, spying on whoever paid them the most.

And of course, there was also the roaring prostitution trade, which came with the same dangers and more.

Yes, you were more than happy to live a meagre, boring life in exchange. But of course, good things often have a habit of being rather short lived.

“I’ve finished with the sweeping, Mr. Montgomery, sir.”

Your boss looked up sharply at your words, his expression decidedly startled, clearly having been shaken out of some sort of deep thought process. As a matter of fact, he’d been rather vague all day, jittery in his movements and uncharacteristically short with his costumers.

So of course, you’d kept out of his way, and worked as hard as you could in order to not make any mistakes – it was the least you could do, if it helped to keep his stress levels down.

“Y-y/n….what are you still doing h-here?”

You frown in confusion; you hadn’t stayed late, you were sure of it – you were always punctual, never straying from the routine that had helped to keep you safe.

“My shift doesn’t finish for another 10 minutes, sir. Are you feeling alright?”

He taps his fingers anxiously on the counter in front of him, letting out a hissing breath as his eyes darted to the door at the front of the shop.

“I’m fine. Listen, I’m gonna let you go home a little early, ok? But you’re gonna have to leave out back. Just….just go now, and go real quiet, ok?”

You gulp, the colour draining from your cheeks – you’d have to be completely ignorant not to know what such warnings meant in the city of Ebott.

“Oh no, sir….you….you don’t mean-”

“Wouldn’t be able to keep this lil’ place up and running for much longer if I didn’t. It’s….it’s not bad, as these deals go. They’ll keep the place going, and all I need to give is 10% of weekly profits, along with sanctuary to any members if….if they need it.”

A mafia. He’d actually been fool enough to make a deal with a Don.

You take a reflexive step back, eyes wide, tremors running through your legs; he knew, he knew how you felt about gangs, how scared you were, what happened to your family after your brother got in with the wrong group-

“Y/n….please, understand. Not only would I have been out of pocket, you would have had to find another job. I know...I know how you are-”

“Well, clearly you don’t! But you’re obviously quite aware that I can’t afford to quit, and-”

You cut yourself off, realising that you’d spoken out of turn – and to your boss, no less.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand completely – hell, I’d flip my shit and more if I were in your position. Look, just...just leave out back, like I said. Then after this evening, we can pretend that none of this ever happened. Everything’ll be the same as usual, ok? I won’t get you involved, y/n-”

His words are cut off abruptly by a hard rapping at the door; you both jump at the sound, eyes wide with alarm. He turns to you with panicked vigour, indicating for you to hide under the counter – so, feeling much like a cowering dog, you crawl between your boss’s legs and curl up in a shaking ball, dully noticing with some irritation that you hadn’t swept this particular corner as well as you’d previously assumed.

The rapping sounds once again at the door, and the safe cover of your boss’s legs is removed as he goes to answer, leaving you prone; you curl up all the more, hands held hard over your mouth in an effort to keep as silent as you could.

All the same, you feel your breathing hitch at the sound of the front door being opened, the little bell on the door-frame tinkling cheerfully as it did so.

“S-so sorry about that. I was just finishing t-the sweeping-”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, gramps. jus’ let me n’ the boys in, yeah? heh, pretty damn cold out here, don’t’cha think?”

“Oh! Oh yes, please, come right in.”

You hear a deep, rolling chuckle – clearly amused over how jittery your boss was being; you reflexively swallow as the sound of several footsteps entering the establishment surrounds you, clearly checking out the shop for anything untoward. But eventually, it seems that the Don’s men are satisfied – shockingly, they hadn’t even attempted to look under the counter for anything threatening. But you certainly don’t relax as a result, especially as you hear your boss start to bravely speak up.

“So, uh, I’m not exactly sure how this process-”

“don’t worry ‘bout it – we gotcha covered. now, all we gotta...”

The Don pauses for far too long. You bite your lip, wondering what was wrong – as something had to be wrong, for such a lengthy pause. You soon get your answer as the Don lets out another hearty chuckle, sending shivers up your spine.

“heh. ya didn’t mention that ya had mice.”

You brow furrows. You always cleaned the shop spotless, and to accuse the place of having a vermin problem was actually insulting to you.

“Um….I’m s-sorry?”

“mice. y’know. cute lil’ things, pretty shy. like to hide in places ya don’t always expect.”

You can’t help but jump at the hard rap on the surface of the counter above you, the Don’s laughter echoing from above.

“c’mon out lil’ mouse, i won’t eat ‘cha. not unless ya want me to, that is.”

Digging your fingernails hard into the palms of your hands, you do as he asks and crawl out from under the counter, keeping your eyes trained on your feet and floor beneath them as you stood up. You knew better than to refuse a mafia Don’s wishes, after all.

“there we go. boys, ya gettin’ sloppy – did ya even bother ta scan for other souls? i keep tellin’ ya, ya can’t jus’ trust ya eyes.”

“But boss, we-”

There’s an audible slap, making you flinch; you swore that if you dug your fingernails into your hands any harder that you’d start to draw blood. But one word stuck out for you – the mention of souls. That could only mean-

“ya what? practised real fuckin’ hard at being an idiot this morning, huh? ya lucky it’s me here, not ma brother – otherwise ya know he’d kill ya on the spot, right?”

“….yes boss.”

There’s a tense silence, and you desperately try to stop yourself from shaking; not that you were very successful in your endeavours. This was exactly what your routine existed for, after all – to avoid the mafia families as much as you could. And now, here you were, stood in front of a Don and his bodyguards, having been outed out of hiding from them. And worst of all, if your suspicions were correct, then this wasn’t an ordinary mafia your boss had decided to deal with.

There were two main mafia powers in the city of Ebott: the Stigma family, which dealt mainly in the drug and prostitution rings, as well as human trafficking – a group that even the most daring girls at the speakeasies did their best to avoid. And then there was the Osseous family, which preferred ownership of certain city sections, and the running of the vast majority of the speakeasies. And while this might sound mild in comparison to the Stigma, in your opinion they were far more dangerous, and judging from the body count left in their wake, you were more than right.

They were literal monsters in every sense.

And that really was quite literal, given that most of the group was composed of living, breathing monsters; you’d read stories of a time when humans and monsters used to live peacefully with one another – but after a horrific war, the world had settled into the tense balance of families struggling for power, land and respect. And while there were other monster mafia families in the city, the Osseous family was by far the most powerful, lead by three terrifying skeleton monsters, infamously known for their sadistic natures and ruthless killing.

You….you didn’t want to die.

You jolt as you feel the sudden sensation of cool fingertips under your chin, softly nudging you to raise your head; you follow the motion, but keep your eyes low – you really didn’t want to confirm your fears.

“heh, well, ain’t ya jus’ a peach. what’s yer name, doll?”

You gulp, trying to get your voice to work around your paper-dry mouth.

“Y-y/n, sir.”

“pretty name. not quite as pretty as yer face, but m’certainly not complain’.”

Despite the terrified shaking in your limbs, you feel your cheeks burn red at the unexpected compliment, resulting in a deep chuckle from him as he noticed.

“...name’s red. there now, we both know each-other – so how’s a ‘bout ya look at me, eh?”

You shudder, instantly recognising the name, hating that your instincts had been completely on point in regards to suspecting the Osseous family’s involvement – he was pretty infamous, whispers on the street naming him as, ‘The Reaper’; the implications of such a name being pretty obvious, even without his skeletal visage.

Not daring to refuse his request, you finally raise your eyes to meet his – or rather, lack of, considering all he had were scorching red eye-lights in empty sockets.

He was a lot….bigger than you’d heard. Of course, all monsters were enormous beings, you knew that much, but to be up close and personal with one was frankly terrifying. You even had to crane your neck up to meet his gaze, which made his smile stretch all the wider; something which made your muscles tense beyond your control, considering the shocking sharpness of his teeth – something you could liken to a shark’s, aside from the fact that one of his fangs had been replaced by a false gold tooth. Something in the back of your mind wondered who his tailor must be; someone who was obviously very talented, considering the quality of the red and black suit he wore on his gargantuan frame, accompanied by gleaming spats and a black fedora.

“there ya go – nice ta make yer acquaintance, y/n.”

You blink, not expecting the manners; you answer back on reflex, your brain putting very little thought into the learned words that fell from your lips.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Your eyes widen as you realise that could be taken as disrespectful, and you start to stutter out the word ‘sir’ - only for the hand which still held you chin in place to quickly place a finger over your lips.

“pfft, don’t cha worry yer pretty lil’ head ‘bout it – kinda nice not havin’ a stupid honorific tied ta my name. matter of fact, how ‘bout cha make it a habit of callin’ me red, eh?”

You balk, really not expecting this turn of events, but make to nod your head anyway – not that you could move all that much thanks to his hold, but given the spreading grin on his features he got the message. A grin that suddenly falls when one of his goons lets out an audible cough.

“Boss, we’ve gotta get this show on the road, or-”

“yeah yeah, i know, shut yer fuckin’ trap.”

His eye-lights flickered back down to you, a strangely sweet smile crossing his features before he lets out a clearly regretful sigh, finally releasing you and stepping away, strolling back towards your boss as you attempted to calm yourself down.

“right gramps, let’s get ta business, shall we?”

“...oh! Oh, of course. So it’s a 10% of profits at the end of each week, and sanctuary to-”

“nah. forget ‘bout the stupid profit – we’ll be good as long as ya just give me ‘n the boys a place if we need it, and...”

He looks around for a moment, before his burning eye-lights land on the small bakery section, his grin widening.

“...and lunch whenever we want. sound good to ya, gramps?”

You boss mutters out hurried thank-yous, quickly signing the papers handed to him; Red’s eye-lights hovered back over to you whilst he did so, his expression clearly contemplative.

But soon, your boss was finished with the papers, and it was time for the mobsters to leave – or at least, they were supposed to, but Red had other ideas.

While his men stood in clear discomfort by the door, eager to vacate, Red took his sweet time, almost waltzing back towards you; before he gently took up your hand and brought it to his mouth in a soft pseudo kiss.

“be seein’ ya, beautiful. and….heh, i know i ain’t the most attractive of monsters, but….”

He coughs slightly, and your mind freezes in mute surprise as a blush spreads across his cheekbones.

“...woulda consider goin’ out with me at some point? and nah, don’t think this is gonna interfere with yer’ bosses’ deal if ya say no. i’m a better monster than that, even if i don’t look it, heh. So jus’….jus’ think ‘bout it.”

With that, he quickly tipped his fedora in farewell, and was out the door without another word, his men following just as quickly after him.

Of course, you should have realised that that wouldn’t be the end of it, especially with that kind of exit.

You’d never been propositioned by anyone before, and the fact that your first taste of ‘interest’ had to be from a mafia Don made you feel faintly sick. But aside from that, you had to admit that Red himself wasn’t nearly as….bad as the stories made him out to be.

Of course, you didn’t doubt for a moment that the stories about brutal killings weren’t the truth (that was a given with any mafia in Ebott, after all) – but the stories about him being a ruthless, cold, sadistic being? The more interactions you had with him, the more those stories seemed to be nothing but twisted fairy tales.

It began with flowers.

Every morning, precisely 5 minutes before you were scheduled to leave for work, a bouquet of flowers would arrive – anything from gorgeous, deeply red roses to delicately curved sweet-peas. It got to the point that your small apartment was so perfumed you could hardly stand it, and your clothes were deliciously scented no matter how much you washed them (not that you exactly complained about that last part). Luckily for you, Red seemed to drop in almost every day for lunch (“yer bakery is the best this side of town”), so with a quick, polite word, the flower deliver ceased.

And was quickly replaced with other presents.

Anything from chocolates, to things that you needed for your day-to-day living (Red had uncanny hearing apparently, as he always seemed to catch you muttering under your breath whenever you had to make shopping lists) – and, of course, the presents that finally convinced you that he really wasn’t a bad guy at all.

He wrote you letters.

Sometimes it would be simple little notes, mentioning how nice it was chatting with you while he and his goons ate their lunch at the shop (considering it was everyday, you were pretty sure that his men were pretty darn sick of sandwiches and confectionery, as nice as they were) – others made you blush like a schoolgirl; you would had never considered a monster like him to be good at romantic prose, but his sweet, sensual letters more than proved you wrong.

Initially, you simply assumed that he hadn’t written them at all, and had employed someone to do so for him – but he seemed to instantly pick up on your dubious behaviour.

Which is when the romantic poetry in person started.

Instead of going straight to his usual request of a fresh ham sandwich (“heavy on the mustard, doll”), he would lean across the desk, looking deep into your eyes as he improvised. Some of his prose was a little cringy at times (which is when you usually broke out into uncontrollable giggles – not that he seemed to mind that fact, actually admitting that he loved to make you laugh), but when he got it spot on you had to fight back the urge to fan your cheeks, often having to take a moment to go splash your face in the aftermath.

But oddly, not once during his courtship had he asked you to go out with him again – apparently he’d been quite true to his word when he asked you to ‘think about it’; a fact that once again surprised you and only further convinced you that he wasn’t quite the monster people painted him out to be.

Sadly, the glaring problem that he was a mafia Don still remained. Frankly, it terrified you – sure, you’d come accustomed to seeing members of the Osseous family frequenting the shop, but it didn’t stop your fears, oh no; you were just waiting for the day that one of those members would come stumbling in, covered in blood, and begging for assistance.

Truthfully, you were torn – you had admittedly started to develop….feelings for the skeleton monster despite your misgivings, but….you were still terrified. No, there was only one thing for it – you needed to talk to him, before things progressed further.

“heya beautiful.”

You look up in slight surprise, not expecting Red to be here this early – at least 30 minutes early, to be exact.

“You’re here early.”

“i am. s’that a problem?”

“Not exactly – but the bread’s still a little too hot to make sandwiches.”

“well, guess that jus’ means i get ta distract you from work jus’ that lil’ bit longer.”

He grins down at you while you roll your eyes – you felt safe enough with him to show sarcasm at this point, something he seemed to take great joy in.

“Well, think again, I’ve….”

You pause, realising that this would actually be the perfect time to have that little ‘talk’ with him – you had very little to do around the shop at the moment, and the boss was already watching the front desk.

“...Red, can I...can I talk with you for a moment?”

He blinks, clearly not expecting the question, before his grin widens and he chuckles under his breath.

“well, sure ya can. i’m all non-existent ears, sweetheart.”

You giggle despite yourself, before quickly straightening your expression – not that it did much good, as Red was already the embodiment of smug satisfaction.

“Glad that you are. Just….um. All of your….affections are very flattering.”

He raises a brow bone, eye-lights slightly wary.

“And I won’t say that I don’t….I won’t say that I don’t enjoy them.”

“...but?”

“...but I just….I’ve had really bad experiences with….with another mafia. I wasn’t involved myself, but my brother was….and one day while I was out, he….he made a mistake, a deal went sour. And when I came back….my family was gone. Dead. Just like that.”

Red visibly winced, his face the picture of a grimace.

“So I’m just….I’m just scared. I don’t...”

You sigh, your shoulders tight as you look away from his piercing gaze.

“...I don’t want to lose another person that I care about. I don’t….I don’t want to get hurt again, I’m sorry.”

You gasp slightly as you feel his fingertips under your chin, pulling your face and gaze back towards him, so reminiscent of the first time you met it sends your heart racing.

“...now, ya listen’ ta me, ok, doll? that ain’t gonna happen with me. ya see these goons? i don’t need ‘em. they’re jus’ there fer show. pretty sure that ya know i’m known as ‘the reaper’ - stupid fuckin’ name, but i won’t say it ain’t accurate. there’s a reason why i’m the guy that gets sent ta….gah, please, sweetheart, jus’ trust me when I say that there’s no chance in hell that i’m gonna get hurt anytime soon. and i’m not gonna let you get hurt either, ‘kay?”

You sigh, desperately resisting the urge to lean into his touch.

“There’s bound to be a time when things go sour, Red. That’s the way the mafia works, after all – I know first hand, remember? And what happens then? Either I get killed for being involved with you, or I get to live the rest of my life without-”

You cut yourself off, automatically jerking yourself away from his hold. For a moment, the two of you are silent, before he lets out a long, heaving exhale.

“...what ‘bout if i offered ya protection? i mean, not that i….”

He starts to laugh, catching you slightly off guard; you frown, not understanding the sudden humour.

“pfft, sorry, s’really not funny. jus’ that i’ve already placed ya under protection, and i’m stood here like a fuckin’ idiot askin’ yer permission.”

“….you what?!”

He winces, instantly sobering up at your shocked indignance.

“You’ve had me watched?! For how long?!”

“….ya don’t wanna know the answer ta that.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose while he rubbed the back of his head, fedora slipping slightly out of place as he chuckled nervously.

“Do you realise what an invasion of privacy that is?”

“...yeah. but….i jus’ wanted ya ta be safe, sweetheart.”

You let out another groan, though some part of you actually feels pretty pleased that he cared enough to do such a thing – that said, it would have been nice to know.

“let me make it up ta ya, beautiful – please?”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

He shifted slightly, his expression actually nervous, something that catches you off guard; you’d seen him bashful, but this was nearing the kind of jitters that you yourself experienced around him.

“...let me come over n’ make ya dinner.”

“Wait...what? Make me dinner? As in….cook for me?”

He nods, actual sweat gathering at his brow at your words.

“...you can...you can cook?”

He narrows his sockets at this, dipping his face lower to yours.

“s’that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“I...I….maybe? Honestly, I’ve never been cooked for before, but….uh, my apartment is really small, so I’m not sure I’d fit more than two people-”

“what? doll, i ain’t bringin’ anyone else with me. what, ya think i’d want those dolts breathin’ down my neck? ‘sides, i’m cookin’ fer us, not those fuckin’ idiots.”

“I don’t know, Donny can be pretty smart when he wants to be.”

“emphasis on ‘wants’….but, uh, what do ya-”

“Yes. I, um, mean...yes. That’d be….real nice.”

For a moment, he simply blinks, clearly not expecting your acceptance – and instead of his trademark, sly grin making a reappearance, an odd, slightly wonky shy smile takes up residence on his features, disbelieving chuckles escaping him.

“well….heh. looks like i’m gonna have ta go get some...things, then.”

With that, he begins to turn on his heel to leave, before you suddenly reach out and grip his sleeve, instantly halting his movements as he looks down at you in shock, blush dusting his cheeks.

“I...did you still want your usual order?”

There’s a momentary pause, before he lets out a deep, rolling laugh, swiftly turning back to you and grabbing the hand holding onto his sleeve, bringing it up to his teeth and softly kissing it.

“sweetheart, did ya forget? i’m the one who’s treatin’ ya today – is 7 good fer ya?”

“...yes, that’ll be perfect.”

With another grin and another kiss to the back of your hand, he’s out the door, leaving his men to hurriedly scamper after him, not expecting the sudden departure.

You heave out a sigh, leaning back against the wall with a slightly stupefied expression.

That….that certainly wasn’t how you envisioned the conversation going.

You jolt and squeak at the sudden tapping on your door, almost knocking over the glass of water you’d been attempting to consume in your nervousness (it hadn’t gone well – your hands were shaking too much, so holding the glass proved to be nearly impossible). Gulping, you stand, fluffing your hair one final time before you walk over to the door and open it, revealing Red in all his suited glory, bouquet of freshly cut red roses held out to you, a bag of groceries hanging in his other hand. Taking the beautiful flowers from him and pausing for a moment to inhale their heavenly sweetness, you giggle softly, smiling up at him.

“And here’s me thinking that I’d just about got the smell of flowers out of my apartment….come in.”

He chuckles nervously, ducking his head through the door-frame – however, the ceiling of your apartment is so low that he has to take off his fedora in order to save it from being crushed.

“ah, d’ya...have somewhere i can hang this?”

“...oh! Oh yeah, sure-”

You gesture wildly to the hat stand in the corner, desperately searching for something suitable to put the flowers in – you really didn’t want to leave them to wilt. Eventually, you successfully find a vase to place them in, just in time to witness Red without a jacket for the first time, rolling up his shirt-sleeves absent-mindedly as he looked with some concern at the contents of the bag he’d brought with him.

You manage to choke out a cough, bringing his gaze back to meet yours; before he openly grinned as he noticed how flustered you were at seeing his suddenly casual attire (you’d made sure to wear one of your best dresses, after all).

“I, uh….is there anything wrong? Y-you look worried.”

“heh. nah, was jus’ hopin’ that i picked out somethin’ that ya like.”

Without further ado, he brought the bag up to your kitchen counter and started to lay out the ingredients; and it didn’t take too long to work out what he was going to cook.

“...arrabiata?”

His head whips to you, his expression surprised intrigue.

“ya...ya like it?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourite pasta dishes, actually.”

He winced slightly at that, chuckling nervously.

“well, let’s hope that i can do it sum justice.”

“Don’t worry too much about it – I mean….just the fact that you’re bothering to do this is...really nice.”

You gulp slightly, turning your gaze away for just a moment, before something occurred to you.

“Would you….would you like something to drink?”

He snorted slightly at that, rolling his eye-lights and reaching inside the bag to reveal an intricate glass bottle containing a liquid that glowed faintly in the dimmed light of your apartment.

“...oh my god, is that monster alcohol?”

His grin visibly widens, and he starts to dig through your rather bare cupboards for glasses.

“But….but this is prohibited!”

“perks of havin’ a monster don cookin’ fer ya, doll. i know the guy who makes this personally – don’t worry, it’s not too strong. jus’ some nice magic effects.”

“Like what?”

He chuckles again, clearly enjoying the mixture of suspicion and mute fascination in your tone.

“nothin’ sinister, don’t cha worry. s’mostly jus’ relaxin’ - but with humans it does this pretty lil’ thing ta ya skin.”

Narrowing your eyes at him slightly, you turn your attention to the glass he’d handed you, looking down into the hazy, luminescent liquid.

“...it’s really pretty. What’s it called?”

“echoflower wine. made sure ta pick sumthin’ gentle fer ya….but i also thought ya would enjoy the magic, y’know? sorry if i-”

“No, no! It’s….it’s really nice of you to think of me like that.”

“heh, i got some serious makin’ up ta do, sweetheart.”

You mutter softly under your breath as you bring the glass up to your lips, inhaling the liquid’s scent – truthfully, you’d already forgiven him, but you weren’t about to let him know that just yet. The echoflower wine smelt beautiful – sweet and heady, a strange marriage between fresh lemonade and aged red wine. The taste however is nothing short of ‘magical’; the taste almost dances on your tongue, reminding you vaguely of passion-fruit, with distinctly floral notes.

“Oh, that’s so lovely. Thank you!”

“heh, y’ain’t seen the best of it – look at yer skin.”

You look down at you arm and gasp; your skin almost glowed, the surface catching in the light.

“That’s...honestly incredible.”

Sans hummed in agreement, eyeing you with a nothing short than a smouldering gaze as he takes a swig of his own drink; leaving you to exhale in slight astonishment when he too seems to shimmer. He snorts slightly at your reaction, beginning to chop ingredients with a precision you honestly didn’t expect, given his lumbering size.

“yeah, i know, i know, i look like a glowin’ pansy.”

“No, I was just...thinking how lovely it looked, actually.”

His movements stop at that, sockets going wide for a moment, before he reaches out hesitantly and cups the side of your face, his thumb rubbing softly at the surface of your cheek.

“...and yer look beautiful. ya always do.”

Your face flushes, the silence stretching as the two of you simply stare at each-other, the only movement in the room being his hand, still moving softly against your cheek. It suddenly struck you that you’d never really been alone with him, having always interacted in the shop before now. Yet here you were, quite alone with him, the heat building between the two of you by the second.

A heat which quickly became a crescendo as he dipped his head, planting the softest of kisses on your lips – a kiss that ended far too soon as he quickly drew back from you, shaking his head.

“m’sorry, don’t know what came over me – m’not here fer that, i-”

His words are quickly halted as you grab the front of his shirt and yank him back down to you, deepening the light kiss you’d had a taste of. He freezes for a moment, before melting under your touch, a rumbling groan leaving him as his hands drifted to your waist, lifting you up and placing you on the counter – you sighed happily at the extra contact, wrapping your legs around his hips; or at least trying to, but he halts your actions by gripping your thighs tight, breaking the kiss once more to look down at you seriously.

“sweetheart….i gotta know what yer thinkin’, m’sorry – i don’t want...ta take this any further without knowin’ how ya feel. s’not right.”

You blink, yet again surprised by his unexpected manners – manners which he only seemed to show you, given the amount of swearing he used whenever speaking to anyone else.

“I...ok, I’m not going to deny that it still scares me, with the mafia. But...I’ve never felt like this towards anyone. I didn’t realise how bad it was until you kissed me, so I...maybe got a little ahead of myself, I’m sorry.”

“doll, ya got nothin’ ta apologise fer, trust me. so…did ya w-wanna continue? i mean, i still gotta make ya dinner, bu-”

You interrupt him once again by yanking on the front of his shirt, breaking his hold on your thighs and wrapping them securely around his hips, pressing your lips to his fangs.

A low, deep growl leaves him as his hands travel up to your hips, grasping at the flesh there to yank you closer, his fangs nibbling at your lips, his tongue lapping at the tiny wounds left by his ministrations. You groan, licking at his tongue with gentle hesitance – a hesitance which is soon forgotten when his tongue curls around yours, exploring the inside of your mouth as his phalanges palmed at your ass.

Desperately wanting to be closer still, you grind your body against his, a soft, wanting whine escaping you. Red broke the kiss with a shudder that ran through his entire body, his eye-lights burning in his sockets as he stared down at you, his expression so warm and…loving, your own body shivers in response. Your mind almost feels hazy as he reaches up to cup your face once again, a small smile playing on his features.

“...yer so beautiful, y/n. i gotta ask ya – would ya….could ya be mine? i jus’….i don’t wanna ever let go of ya, sweetheart.”

You gulp, eyes wide as a furious blush floods your cheeks. He waits patiently for you to settle yourself, tenderly stroking your cheek and looking at you as if you were truly precious.

“I...I think that I would love that, Red. But we-”

“i know. some things have gotta change. and believe me, they will, as long as i have ya with me.”

He presses his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky sigh.

“...i adored ya the moment i saw ya, y’know. even though ya were so scared – i jus’ knew that I needed ya. knew that i wanted ta make ya happy, ta make ya laugh. and i promise, sweetheart, i’ll do all i can ta make ya feel safe again.”

You blink back tears, snuggling your face against his, your breath hitching.

“...I feel safe with you, Red. Please….please can we continue?”

He chuckles at that, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck.

“yer really wanna continue this in the kitchen?”

“...well, I guess I do have a bed, technically. But it’s also the sofa, so I hope that’s ok.”

He growled under his breath, muttering about getting you out of this ‘shitty shoebox’ as he grasps your thighs and promptly lifts you from the counter-top, carrying you over to the couch/bed. You gasp lightly as he sets you down, kneeling at your feet – where he lifts your leg in a manner as if he was expecting you to break, removing your shoes with soft kisses to your lower legs and ankles, all while keeping solid, unbreaking eye-contact.

You shudder as those soft kisses started to progress up your legs, lingering on the inside of your thighs, his phalanges trailing up and under your skirt to palm at your hips, dragging you closer to him.

“gods….yer so soft, doll.”

You moan under your breath as his kisses come a little too close to your panty-line – he instantly freezes, looking up at you for confirmation. You gulp, looking away; but he can see that you certainly aren’t saying no. Something which is quickly confirmed as he pulls your underwear aside, trailing a long, slow lick up your slit.

You let out an aching keen at the sensation, your hips jerking in his hold; he growls under his breath, dragging you closer and eating you out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep and lingering in places you’d never been able to reach by yourself.

You head falls back against the couch cushions as he continues the achingly slow yet sweet pace, letting out soft groans as he did so, as if truly enjoying your taste. Your fingers dig into the cushions around you in desperation, mewls of pleasure falling from your lips as his tongue swirls around your clit.

“R-Red...”

He pauses, looking up at you with a strangely dazed expression, almost as if he were drunk.

“sweetheart?”

“I...please, I need...I need more of you.”

You flush at having to deliver such a line, but it doesn’t seem to faze him; in fact, given how his grin suddenly stretched into his usual smug expression, it pleased him greatly.

“’course. anythin’ ya want, beautiful.”

With that, his phalanges gently shimmed your dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear; he pauses for a moment, sucking in a shaking breath, his eye-lights forming tiny hearts in his sockets.

“fuck, sweetheart….yer so perfect, y’know that? can’t believe….can’t believe that you want to be mine.”

You giggle slightly breathlessly, standing up and starting to unbutton his shirt, a motion that makes him freeze and blush profusely.

“Well, you better start believing it. Now, are you going to leave me alone like this, or…?”

He seems to get the unsubtle memo, all but ripping his shirt off, leaving you to softly gape at his massive ribcage; he truly wasn’t even comparable to a human skeleton. The bones of his ribcage were thick, strong – you ran your fingers softly over their surface, Red shuddering slightly at the movement.

“yer….yer not put of by it, right?”

You look up in surprise.

“By what?”

“heh, well, i’m jus’ kinda…..all bones, right? i mean-”

“No. I like you. I like you….just like this.”

You gently kiss the bones your fingertips still ghosted over, looking up at him with a smile. A smile which he quickly returns, hurriedly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing the material to fall to the ground, leaving him in his boxer-briefs.

For a moment, you both simply stare at each-other, breathing hard; he makes the first movement, gently reaching around your back and unclipping your bra – you shrug it off your shoulders, keeping as much eye-contact with him as you dared, before squirming out of your now soaked underwear. His eye-lights travel down your body, phalanges reaching out to ghost over your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you.

“so...so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You flush, looking away – something he quickly stops, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, turning your face back towards him.

“heh, when are ya gonna learn – i like ya lookin’ at me, doll. i love seein’ ya expressions. i love seein’ what i do to ya.”

Tenderly running his phalanges through your hair, he smiles, dipping his head to kiss your still flushed cheek. Gulping, you reach out, playing with the waist-band of his boxers; he chuckles deep and low under his breath, fangs nipping at the side of your neck.

“impatient, y/n?”

“S-shut up.”

He snorts, his laughter tickling against your neck as he reaches down, pulling the material off his hip-bones, revealing his enormous, throbbing erection.

With some hesitance you reach out, stroking your fingers along the slightly slick tip, eliciting a small shudder from him. Smirking a little, you run your hand down his length with far more confidence, squeezing your hand around his thickness as best you could. He growls softly, bucking his hips into your hand, baring his fangs down at you as he fought to control himself.

Control which quickly you break when you duck your head to lick his tip, swirling your tongue around it.

Snarling in the back of his throat, he quickly scoops you up, foregoing the couch in favour of the wall, which was admittedly much closer. Letting out a huffing breath he opens your legs wider, lining himself up with your entrance, his burning eye-lights travelling to your face to take in your expression.

Obviously he found something that he liked, as in the next moment he started to push into you; and even with how wet you were, you find yourself struggling with his size.

“Oh...oh fuck! You’re so…big...”

“heh...think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard ya swear, doll.”

“S-shut up...”

He huffs out a chuckle, slowly rolling his hips into yours, pressing into you inch by inch; it wasn’t even the fact that he was long in length, but how incredibly thick he was, just. Filling. You. Up.

“s-shit...sweetheart...yer...yer takin’ all of me...so...so tight...”

Suddenly, it’s almost as if something gives within you; perhaps your muscles relaxed sufficiently, but all of a sudden Red had bottomed out inside you, leaving both of you gasping at how deep he’d suddenly gone, hitting every possible crevice within you.

You keened, your hips jerking forward in reflex to the extreme feeling, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy; you’d never felt so perfectly full before, never had something inside you that hit your cervix so deliciously-

“fuuck….damn, ya….geez, what i’d give fer a camera right now.”

Your gaze snaps back to his, eyes narrowing, even if your body paid no attention to your obvious chagrin, continuing to tense and spasm around his length almost gleefully.

“Don’t...even...think about it.”

“pfft, don’tcha worry, y/n-”

He draws his enormous length out of you inch by inch, before plunging back into you at an equally slow and calculated pace, clearly drinking in every shift of your expression.

“-who needs a camera when i can jus’ see the same sight over n’ over, eh?”

“How modest...of you.”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, before digging his phalanges a little deeper into the surface of your hips.

“yer ready fer me, sweetheart?”

“More than.”

Letting out a soft moan at your words, he draws out of you once again; but instead of continuing the slow, languid pace, he starts to all but rut into you. You back arches at the feeling of your walls being stretched over and over, his tip smacking against your cervix, and the feeling of his phalanges digging harder into your flesh as he started to lose that perfect control.

You dig your heels unconsciously into his back, your body seeking that feeling of being hit deeper as your lower stomach started to tighten, your senses pitching; you were reaching your peak.

The whine that leaves you when he suddenly stops is nothing short of embarrassing, but you were too far gone to care.

“oh, sorry ‘bout that – were ya about ta cum?”

You whine louder, grinding your hips to find some sort of friction.

“heh….so needy.”

“P-please...”

“oh, she speaks. what is it, doll?”

“...i want to...c-cum, please.”

He almost purrs at your words, his cock twitching inside you, rubbing at a place that made you see stars.

“...so...fuckin’ cute. remind me ta make ya beg fer it in the future, yeah?”

Before you can even protest such a thing, his pace picks up to something almost blistering in it’s ferocity, grunts and growls leaving him as he gave into the sensations your pussy gave him; you scream, suddenly not caring about what your neighbours thought, clutching at whatever you could reach of him as your body searched for some kind of purchase.

Soon his pace became sloppy, his teeth grinding in an effort to stretch himself out; something which you have no patience for. Your body was getting tighter and tighter, needing more, needing-

“Please, please Red, fill me up-”

He gasps in a shocked, shuddering breath at your words, sockets wide – before his hips jerked hard against yours, smacking your insides so hard your vision goes white, the taught spring inside you finally releasing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life; and Red joined you, his breath hitching as rope after rope of hot cum spills within you, already dripping out of you and landing with an obscene sound on your apartment flooring.

For a long while, you simply stare at each-other in silence, taking in heaving, gasping breaths; your thighs eventually start to shake as your body becomes oversensitive, an instinctive whine leaving you at the feeling – he gulps, carefully withdrawing himself from you, before carrying you just as carefully back over to the couch, setting you down with a gentle kiss to the top of your head, flopping down next to you with an exhausted gasp.

You place your head on his chest without thought, a satisfied sigh leaving you as you snuggled your cheek into him. A rumbling purr leaves him in reply, and you can feel him pressing more kisses to the top of your head.

“when...when did ya want dinner, beautiful?”

“Goodness, you don’t need to think about that – I think I have some leftovers-”

“nope. no way. not fuckin’ happenin’.”

“What? Why not?”

“i promised yer a dinner, so i’m gonna make yer a dinner.”

“...but we just-”

“don’t matter. i’m a man of my word, doll – remember when i said i was gonna make ya happy?”

“...you’ve already made me happy, believe me. And...and it goes both ways, y’know? If...if we’re really going to be together, I want to make you happy, too.”

There’s a short pause before he starts to laugh, his body shaking.

“pfft, yer so fuckin’ perfect, y’know that? i mean….jus’ bein’ with ya...that’s more than enough fer me. jus’ havin’ ya close makes me happier than i’ve ever been, y/n.”

You flush, softly elbowing his side.

“...stupid. Why are you always so damn smooth?”

His laughter continues at that, leaving you to grumble softly.

“Ok, ok….so how about a compromise? You can still make dinner, just...just rest with me for a while, ok?”

A soft, contented noise of approval leaves him, his phalanges reaching up to massage your scalp.

“more than happy ta oblige, doll.”

#sans x reader #sweet romance #he's so suave oh my god #well I think so anyway #fluff and romance #reader insert #malenchka #will he ever get to make dinner?

981 notes · View notes

kitterahsdollhouse · 5 years

Text

Misstep

(A bit of backstory on Songbird :D)

The little Ziz clumsily glided from branch to branch in the warm dappled sunlight of her forest home. She was too young to quite have full control over her wings but could manage to stay safe in the treetops with short bursts of flight from branch to branch. As she landed on her next target she ruffled her feathers excitedly; today she was allowed to visit her friend all on her own! She chirped happily to herself while flitting through the trees. Her friend was in a different flock, but that didn’t matter since the two flocks were close neighbors both in distance and friendliness. Songbird paused and looked around, she wasn’t familiar with this part of the forest. She shivered as a cloud covered the sun and doubt settled in her stomach as she hopped onward.

Another few minutes passed and she was unable to shake the uneasiness that clung to her like cactus burrs, making her skin itch. She stopped, tilted back her head and began to sing. The little Ziz had known this song ever since she was barely young enough to leave the nest, her mother called it “The Lost Song” and told her to sing if she was ever stranded in the forest. Her mother said the trees would lead her where she wanted to go, though she was never sure what that meant. After each repetition of the melody, she would tell the trees where she’d like to go. At first she thought nothing was happening, but then she noticed the tree were rustling noisily, not something that usually happened in her dense forest home. She thought it might be the wind, but she soon realized it was actually the trees themselves bending and swaying their branches to show her the correct way. She chirped her thanks and fluttered onward, looking for the trees that were bending for her as they whispered to one another, not that she could understand them but it was something her mother often said. Every so often she would thank the trees as she traveled onward.

It wasn’t much longer before she stopped for a rest, getting pretty hungry and tired. She flew down to the forest floor looking for wind fallen fruit and nuts she knew she could eat. She wasn’t all the great at telling things apart yet, but luckily there were a whole bunch of lychee on the ground, nice and ripe! She chirped happily, stuffing the little red fruits into her mouth. She was careful not to get any berry juice on her nice clothing as she popped one after another into her mouth. Before she knew it, the small pile that had accumulated was gone, devoured without a hint of remorse by the little Ziz. In fact, she still wanted more! She stood up to get more, but a dizzy spell sent her sprawling to the forest floor. Suddenly, she couldn’t keep her eyes open, a large yawn escaping her. She struggled to stay awake, but her body seemed to have other ideas as her eyes drooped, feeling heavier and heavier.

A small nap couldn’t hurt and her friend might have to wait just a little longer; she thought, before her eyes closed completely. She slept so deeply she didn’t hear the humans approach her, nor feel when they ever so gently rolled her onto a blanket which they tied to a pole and hoisted onto their shoulders. The blanket hung from the pole like a hammock and she lay inside like a caterpillar in a cocoon. The makeshift hammock swayed gently with the humans’ movements and the girl dreamed that she was being rocked by her mother.

“Hey… you… too much… dead?” The little Ziz could hear people talking, but she could only in pieces which she couldn’t understand anyway. Her eyelids felt so heavy, all she wanted to do was sleep more, but she floated closer and closer to wakefulness.

“See? I tol’ you I ain’t kill ‘er!” The voice was so close now it made her eyes snap open. Two people, without wings, stood in front of her and her still dazed mind vaguely recalled stories of creatures her mother called ‘humans’. She looked between them, her eyes settling on one as he began speaking again. “You wan’ed ta learn how to catch a songbird, now ya know how ta catch a songbird. I been huntin’ em longer then you tha’s fer sure. Jus’ you make sure that muzzle stays on. Some of ‘em can use magic fierce and you can ne’er be sure.”

She was still groggy, her eyes now only half lidded, but the first thing she became aware of was something covering her face. Something that made it impossible for her to open her mouth wide. Panicked, she scratched at whatever it was, but it wouldn’t come off. Now that the adrenaline had woken her up completely she noticed she was in a cage. She attempted to chirp at the humans, but all she could manage through the muzzle was a few pathetic squeaks.

The second human spoke to her next, “Ey lil’ songbird, nod your head if ya can understand me.” He banged his fists on the cage then laughed. The Ziz jumped, stretching her wings around to hide as much of her as possible. “Ey Codger, this one don’t understand. Wanna release ‘er?”

The old man who insisted on being called Codger looked over at the younger. “Nah. I need th’ money an’ she might warn th’ others. She’ll learn in time. ‘Sides, I can train ‘er either way.” His expression twisted in to something a little too gleeful.

Jannie took note of his smile and frowned, “Just make sure you don’t leave no marks. I don’t want her damaged ‘fore I get my money’s worth.”

Codger nodded, “Sure. I have multiple ways of makin’ these creatures listen.” Codger looked at the Ziz who cowered behind her bright blue wing.

“What’re we gonna call ‘er for now?” Jannie asked, sharpening his machete. Codger scratched his chin through his short and scruffy beard; picking something out and flicking it away before answering, “Why bother with a name? We ain’t gon’ be ‘round ‘er long enough ta worry ‘bout that. Le’s jus’ call ‘er Songbird. Tha’s what she is.”

Jannie shrugged “Works fer me.”

Meanwhile, in the cage, Songbird still panicked, her eyes flicking from one man to the other and at her surroundings which were as unfamiliar as the men before her. Jannie banging on the bars had startled her badly, she was sure her heart had never beat this fast before. As they talked to each other, Songbird began to calm down enough to look at the cage she was in. She was able to stand up and the base was at least wide enough to straighten her legs if she was sitting, the bars were only wide enough to stick her arm through up to the elbow but all of that meant she still couldn’t escape.

Tears welled up in her eyes. All she knew was she was supposed to be with her friends, safe in their flock or home and safe in her own flock. Now she was unsure of what exactly was happening other than she was stuck somewhere unfamiliar, unable to unfold her wings and barely able to even make sounds. Songbird began to cry, she wanted her parents, she wanted her flock, she wanted her tree, she wanted to go home! She began to thrash around, tears and sobs spilling from her, her wings flapping as she banged herself against the walls of the cage. “Stop ‘er!” Codger yelled, “She gon’ injure ‘erself”

In response, Jannie banged on the cage while shouting “Ey! Cut that out!” But Songbird didn’t understand and kept trying to force her way out somehow.

“Aight then.” Codger said calmly, moving to take something out of his supplies. “Jannie move.”

“You ain’t lettin’ ‘er out is you?”

“’Course not, idiot, now move!” Codger spat then brought a long pipe too his lips, exhaling quickly.

Songbird let out a muffled squeak or surprise as a dart suddenly embedded itself into her side. It took only a few seconds for her to sag against the bars, sliding down as the strength left her and her eyelids grew heavy again in the same manner as earlier. Done with their break and with Songbird asleep again, the men moved through the plains in their wagon. A tarp kept the sun and heat off of her and kept her hidden from any prying eyes in the area; human or otherwise. The two talked as they traveled, mostly about what they’d each do with the money they got from selling her.

To the Raptor Ziz who lived in the plains and mountains, humans were never a good sign. Usually they were hunting for Ziz or even worse, just wings. Two Raptors were patrolling and picked up the conversation between Codger and Jannie that rolled over the plains.

“You see that?” One chirped to her partner who nodded. They banked left and sped up to catch up to the wagon they could see kicking up dust in the distance and the humans that were sure to be driving it. Once they finally caught up, the one who spoke flew down, landing in front of the horses pulling the wagon to stop them.

“What you doing here?” she asked in the human language with a scowl, folding gray wings behind her.

The other Ziz followed suit with her red wings and spotted the tarp hiding the cage “and what exactly transporting? Toward the border.” They both already knew the answer though; only one thing could be in a cage that big.

Codger sighed, “C’mon Jannie.” They both climbed down out of the wagon, Codger grabbing his sword while Jannie grabbed the rifle he brought. The Ziz also readied themselves for the fight that was clearly coming, lowering the spears they were carrying at the pair of humans. Both parties stood and stared, each waiting for the other to move, to create an opening. Quick as a jackrabbit, Jannie shot his rifle, missing by mere inches which gave the red winged Ziz a chance to rush forward while Jannie reloaded. Codger came over to block the thrust with his sword, knocking the spear away from Jannie. The grey winged Ziz then rushed in to stab Codger while he was distracted, but was too late. Jannie had reloaded and shot her point blank. In the chest. They crumpled to the ground, much to the shock of the red-winged Ziz. Seeing that they would lose, they backed away, attempting to escape and warn the other Raptors in the area; but Codger wasn’t about to allow that.

Codger and Jannie went on their merry way, 2 extra pairs of wings on board for their trouble. “How come we dinna just let the one go?” Jannie asked, breaking the thick silence.

“What are ya? Getin’ soft?” Codger half-teased, eyeing his partner for a reaction.

“’Course not, but it would have lured more here and we could get more wings!”

Codger only scoffed “We don’ have supplies or stamina ‘nough ta fight the whole way out o’ these god forsaken plains.”

Jannie stayed silent and simply shrugged, couldn’t argue with that.

The duo continued on, fighting those who got in their way when need be and training Songbird to get used to being kept by humans. Weeks passed and they were finally out of the Raptor Plains. Though most town around the plains were also rather protective of the Ziz, so it took a while for them to reach the town where their client was waiting. The heavy blanket still covered her cage, preventing her from seeing them, but Songbird could clearly hear the chirping from other Songbirds which gave her a faint glimmer of hope. At least until she realized they were all pleading to be set free. After the weeks she had just endured, Songbird could barely even feel frightened. She had grown used to many things: the rattling of the cart and the conversations between the two humans being the only sounds unless the were fighting, the gnaw of hunger, the surprise trainings from Codger. Now she had no idea where she was or what was happening.

Outside of the cage, Codger stopped the wagon and hopped out “’Ey, Arland! You here?”

Another man came out of a building, “Quit yer yellin’ Codger, you’ll stir up the merchandise.”

“I got th’ type o’ bird yer lookin’ fer. One o’ the Songbirdies, nice and fresh, partly trained but still somewhat wild.” Arland yanked off the blanket and peered at Songbird who was frightened by the sudden movement and noise. With the muzzle still over her mouth, she had done the only thing to defend herself, hold up her wing in front of her. “Nice reaction, good coloring, no marks, shame she’s not crested, but that’s aight. Figured you’d be ‘round soon, Codger. Just got finished countin’ yer money. I’ll take her so here.” He tossed a pouch to Codger that jingled as the old man caught it.

Codger and Jannie counted the coins as Arland’s assistants unloaded Songbird’s cage and carried it into the shop. “A’ight Arland. I’m off” Arland just gave a wave over his shoulder as he went to fully appraise his newest piece of stock.

#songbird #fic post #ic drabble

10 notes · View notes

moreofus-story · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Cleo looked around the sewer pipe, following Raphael’s lead. He couldn’t help but find himself a bit surprised – when Casey and April were down here for the first time, they were grossed out. But Cleo was more…observant.

Well, if what she described earlier was any indication, she’d lived through worse.

Now that he wasn’t in his suit, he was only as tall as her shoulder, which made him a bit flustered, but at the same time, it wasn’t her fault. He decided to just leave it there, in his thoughts.

Eventually, he stopped. “Here,” he told her. His sudden voice made her stop, but she stepped to his side and watched curiously as he grabbed a pipe. In a row of four, he grabbed the third one from the left and pulled it down like a lever. Two brick walls opened, revealing a living room of sorts.

Cleo gasped and ran in. “Woah! Y’all got some sorta underground lair in here! Rad!!”

She dashed to one of the arcade machines, laughing like a child. Raphael chuckled, rolling his eyes slightly. He followed her, watching as she messed with the joystick. “How’d y’all get this down here? Any of it?”

“With a lotta pain an’ sufferin’.”

They shared a look then both started laughing in their own way.

Raphael sighed and glanced around the lair while Cleo was focused on the game. “…I don’ think anyone else’s awake yet.”

He paused, but turned to Cleo again. “Rememba’ what I told ya earlia’? That they don’ know I’m Nightwatcha’?” His tone was but a whisper.

Cleo nodded. “You wanna keep it that way?” She whispered back.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She nodded again as he straightened up. “You can go chill on th’ couch if you want. We got tv, but no cable. I’m gonna go lay down for a bit…least, ‘til everyone wakes up.”

Cleo peeked over the game machine, and over at the couch. “Ok. Ah’ll call fer you if ah’ need it.”

With that, he went off to his room and she went to the couch. After setting her bag on the ground and curling up in a ball on the most-right cushion, she eventually dozed off.

Footsteps sounded, and Cleo’s head shot up, adrenaline shooting through her system. It calmed relatively, however, when she saw two turtles, slightly shorter than her friend, walking down the stairs. One had an orange mask on, the other had a purple mask.

She blinked, and as soon as they looked over at her, everyone froze in their spots. The orange-banded turtle blinked once, Cleo blinked twice. The purple-banded turtle blinked three times.

When the two turtles yelled and dashed over, pulling out weapons, Cleo made a noise of surprise and tucked into her shell. She poked her head out of her shell, but squeaked when she saw a bo staff pointed at her face.

“Ehh…Raaaaphaelllll!!” She cried.

The two masked turtles shared a glance as their brother came dashing down the stairs, almost toppling over at the bottom. “Mikey, Don, she’s with me!”

Mikey and Don shared another glance, but the purple one spun his staff around and tucked it back into its hold. The orange one followed his lead and tucked his nunchucks away.

Raphael sighed in relief and looked back over at Cleo, who was slowly coming out of her shell – quite literally. She popped her arms out before crawling to the side of the couch, resting her hands on one of his shoulders and peeking over. “Guh…howdy?”

“Raphael.” Came a new voice from the shadows. Out stepped a giant rat wearing a red robe. He stopped and stared at the newcomer. She lifted a hand and shyly waved at him.

“Howdy-do.”

The rat’s eyes shot to Raphael. “You brought a stranger into our home?!”

“She’s fine, Sensei, I promise – she’s on our side.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Cleo’s gaze darted from Raphael to Sensei, back to Raphael, back to Sensei.

“’Cause – she stopped th’ Kraang.”

All eyes in the room fell on her, and in turn, she nodded. “Yep, ah’ did.”

“Can you prove it?”

“…ah’m a giant talkin’ mutant turtle covered in scars from it. Not…not too sure how else t’, y’know, prove. ‘Less y’all want me t’ tell ya th’ whole story.”

Mikey, Donnie, and Sensei all leaned forward in interest. Cleo blinked at Raphael, who gave her a nod and sat on the arm of the couch. She shuffled back and cleared her throat.

“Daaang! You led a whole rebellion?!” The orange-masked turtle wiggled excitedly in his spot on the floor.

“Yup! Funny ‘nuff, ah’ was one a’ the only gals. An’ th’ third-youngest. Funny how it all works, ah’ reckon.” She passively shrugged, knees pulled up to her chest. Raphael sat next to her, legs crossed, one bouncing.

“So, the Kraang are all dead?” The purple one asked. “They’ll never bother us again?”

“Ah’ sure hope so. We made sure every one we killed was, y’know, dead.”

Raphael’s brothers looked at each other before laughing, beaming and high-fiving…well…high-three-ing.

“Yeah, dude!!”

“We never have to deal with those bozos again!!”

Cleo couldn’t help the gentle laugh of her own. “Golly, ah’ didn’ think ah’d meet anyone else who hated them as much as we did.”

Raphael shrugged, ceasing the bounce of his leg. Beside him, the rat watched the two curiously.

“May we ask your name?”

“Oh!! Ah’ totally forgot.” She laughed again. “Name’s Cleo Patra Rui! Though, y’all can jus’ call me Cleo. Ev’ryone does.”

“I’m Michelangelo! Everyone just calls me Mikey.” The one in orange pointed to his purple-wearing brother. “That’s Donatello, or Donnie. You already know Raph.”

Raph pointed to the rat with his thumb. “An’ this is our dad, Splinta’. We all call him Sensei, though, since he teaches us how t’ fight.”

“That explains the masks!” Cleo’s gaze moved to his red mask. “Ah’ thought it was some bad attempt t’ conceal yer identities or somethin’. But yer ninjas, ain’t’cha?”

“Yeppers!!” Mikey beamed. “The best ninjas you’ll ever meet, sis!”

Donnie rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ninjas she’ll ever meet.”

“You neva’ know,” chimed Raph. “If she managed t’ find me, she coul’ find anyone.”

Cleo chuckled until Splinter placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder and pushed his back to the couch so he could better see her. “How did you meet my son?”

A brief look of panic flashed on Raph’s face for a split second, but Cleo’s wave of hand centered him. “Eh. We bumped on a roof top. Ah’ve been inta’ parkour fer a few years. That’s all.” She shrugged. “We started chattin’ fer…obvious reasons.”

“Huh,” Donnie mumbled. “Strange how two of the only mutated turtles in New York found each other on a roof…”

“Oh, we ain’ th’ only ones.” Cleo shrugged. “There were a couple from th’ rebellion – ah’ dunno where they are, though. Slash, Spike, Tokka, Jon…an’ me! Ah’m sure there were a couple more ah’m forgettin’, but that’s jus’ off th’ top a’ ma’ head.”

Raph’s brow rose. “Oh?”

Cleo nodded. “Yeppers. They were big helps, ‘specially fer me. They helped me figure out ma’ body. Like how ah’ can do this!” Then, she tucked her limbs and head fully into her shell. It plopped onto the couch, earning laughs from the other mutants.

The female popped back out with her own laugh. “Thank ya, thank ya, ah’ll be here ‘til Friday!”

Mikey, in between giggles, managed to let out a “you should stay forever!!”

Cleo, Raph, and Splinter all froze, sharing confused glances.

“F-for…”

“…ever?”

Cleo and Raph both just stared at each other. Mikey, meanwhile, wiped his eye. “Yeah!! You’re funny, Cleo. I like you!!”

Donnie eased himself back down to reality. “Mikey, I don’t really think-”

“Aw, c’mon, Donnie! Cleo!! How old are ya?”

“Uh – 20, now…if ma’ math is right. Ah’ was with the Kraang fer a while…”

“Where d’ya live normally?”

“Wit’ ma’ momma an’ lil’ brother. Well, kinda. Ah’m never home, really. Ma’ sorta-kinda-adopted sister’s in ma’ room. She moved in when durin’ th’ rebellion. Why d-“

“You gotta job?”

“Not a solid one.” She paused again. “It’s hard fer, uh, someone wit’ a…condition like mine t’ get a full-time job – an’ ah’ don’ jus’ mean th’ mutation.”

She laughed aloud, but it slowly turned into more of an awkward chuckle. Mikey and Donnie shared a glint.

“I mean,” Donnie muttered, “it’s more than Raph.”

“HEY!”

Cleo blinked over at him then laughed again. “Pfft, you ain’t gotta job, looooserr!!”

Raph nudged her in the side, making her just laugh harder. After a moment of glaring, he surrendered and started to laugh himself.

Donnie and Mikey shared yet another perplexed look. “Raph can laugh?!”

Cleo lifted a faux-brow in their direction, sparing them a peek. “’Course he can! Anyone can!”

“Not Raph.”

Donnie shook his head before standing up, Mikey following his lead. “Well, it was fantastic meeting you, Cleo. We gotta head to work now.”

Mikey pouted, but Donnie elbowed him in the side before tugging him away from the couch, but not before getting a last word in; “don’t leave ‘til we get home!! I wanna talk mor-“

Donnie pulled him off.

Raph shook his head, kicking his feet up on the table in front of them. “Dorks. Seriously, it’s a wonda’ I didn’t smack ‘em both upside th’ head t’day.”

Cleo giggled to herself. “Yeah – ah’ have a lil’ brother ma’self, ah’ know how it can be. They ain’ done nobody no harm, though.”

Splinter reached over for the remote, but couldn’t reach. Cleo noticed his frustration, so she used her foot to grab the remote and drop it in her hand. Then she handed it to him. “There ya go, sir.”

He blinked, somewhat impressed. “…thank you,” he mumbled, flipping through the tv channels.

A snore brought their attention to Raph, who was out like a light. Cleo froze before snickering a bit. “Oh. Reckon he’s tired after all that parkour we was doin’. Y’all think he’d freak out if ah’ brought him t’ his room?”

Splinter shook his head. “It’s upstairs – the second room on the left.”

“Coolio.”

She stood up, stretched a bit, then scooped the smaller turtle up. His head quickly moved to the crook of her neck, making both Splinter and Cleo chuckle to themselves.

#chapters: chapter 2 #tmnt #tmnt 2007 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2007 fanfiction

0 notes