Tmnt One-shot - Tumblr Posts

So, @luckycharms1701 Inspired me by this It's been a rough couple of weeks. And I mean rough. And the fic I'm working on for the boys, even though is fun, is heavy in Angst (capital 'A', yes; listen, listen--I did not plan for my first fic in over ten years to be the one out of the nine that was filled with Angst, okay? Dices were rolled). Needless to say, not only did this speak to me but it full on grabbed me by the collar and crushed me in a tight bear hug until my body went "Okay." Especially Donnie's segment. It hit hard. Not only because I am that friend, but I have friend that has done this for me before. So, before I did anything else today, I had to write this out. I love your writing, Luky, and how your ideas hold sparks. So, I hope you don't mind that I wrote a little fic inspired by your Donnie segment. Disclaimer: I've never written anything for Rise before, so I hope This Donnie reads okay. I am open to critiques, as I am still getting use to the Rise characters. Note: Everyone I write is aged up to be at least in early 20s

The strained sob surprised even me when he answered, and I cursed myself for cutting off his greeting. "What's wrong? What happened." Okay, slight panic in his voice. Definitely need to calm him down (funny how that works) before anything else. "Nothing," my voice cracked and strained as my throat refused to work, fuck me, "I-I just..." Okay, deep breadths. Deep. Breadths. "Okay, I can hear you doing your breathing exercises, but I need you to tell me what's going on."

When my eyes closed, the tears finally fell as the strain in my chest let loose in anxious pain. It was all I could do not to have the full break down right then with him on the line. My lip ached as I bit it hard to stop its quivering and to keep everything at bay while I rubbed my fist against my chest in a pitiful sense of self-soothing. But most of all, this was to keep me from doubling back and saying 'nevermind'--he absolutely hates when I do that, and I have promised that I would be better. Especially in cases like this. My eyes opened slowly when he called my name. It was like they, coupled with his voice were the veil to open up my disassociation so I could at least attempt to talk.

"I'm sorry if you're in the middle of your project, I know--" I paused and flinched when he said my name once more, clipped this time. Right. I also promised that I would stop apologizing when I'd call randomly. 'If I answer, then you're not disturbing me. Stop apologizing; you're not wasting my time if I decide to give it to you.' His words from prior conversations rang clear in my mind and I backtracked to start my brain over. The tears started anew as I took in a wet breadth, "I hate asking this, but..." One more pause. I can do this. I can do this. "I really need you right now, Don. Can you please come over?"

The line was cut just as another whimpering sob escaped my throat at the end of my question. I allowed myself to finish it out and let the tears flow with a wince for only a few moments; if I let it out now, I wouldn't be able to let Donnie in when he arrived. With a few deep breadths and many, many tissues I finally moved to the front of my apartment and watched the large windows on the skylight balcony. Knowing that it would be at least fifteen minutes, I drew my knees up tightly against my chest and curled on the cushioned high-back chair. To busy my brain from anything, I searched the deep night sky for any stars that the city would allow. As always, the brightest was Venus; a forever companion in the morning and the evening, no matter the location. As I began to get lost on mentally reciting the many cultures that possessed legends surrounding the planet, a bulky silhouette appeared and startled me. Two taps came from the large window, and I scrambled over to unlock the large skylight. Before I could even hug him, let alone before he was fully inside, Donnie slung a bulky and large cloth bag from his back and into my arms. Ah, this explained his weird silhouette. Made sense. "There's a little something extra in there, as well, since we haven't been able to find your old one after your move." The slight spark in his eyes did nothing to hint on what he referred to as he closed the skylight. It drew my curiosity wild. Opting to see what he brought now instead of waiting a couple more minutes, I set the bag on the table next to the windows and pulled out the items. He waited patiently close by, nearly hovering as I unpacked his bagged presents. I didn't mind, in fact his hovering presence helped relax me further. I blinked at the first couple of items that I pulled out. A box of my favorite chocolates (not just a small one, a big one--it'll take me over a week to finish this off) and a...hold on. "...Donnie, I love you. But you know I have this movie, right?" I grinned up at him as he took CLUE out of my hands, his own grin plastered on his beak. "Ah, you may have the usual DVD copy and the digital on three separate systems, but this, my dear is the Collector's Edition. Behold," He opened the intricate designed box and turned the DVD case to show the back. I followed his finger as he read the words aloud, "Interview from the writer and director, behind the scenes on making the movie, AND behind the scenes on creating the score." He placed the DVD case back in the sleeve of the decorative box and handed it back to me, that grin of his still present with the spark in his eyes, "I've cleared my schedule for the night and set everything to DND. We can watch whatever you'd like on this, or all of it if you'd prefer." Tears welled anew in my vision, and I stole that hug from him right there. He didn't hesitate on returning it, which warmed my chest even more as he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled his beak in my hair and churred. I finally felt myself smile with warmth; still sniffling and having anxiety pains, but there was a break.

Continue reading -> I Need You - Jenuinely - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Delvation

The blend of two words, Delve; to dig up and study, and Causation; the event where a permanent effect takes place.

Hit some snags on my main story, so taking a break to write a one-shot that's been swimming rent free in me noggin' for the past month. I'm halfway done with it, so I might actually post it later tonight! In the meantime, here's a segment with the boys as a little preview:

Note: Everyone I write is aged up to be adults, unless stated otherwise. Universe: Bayverse Setting: New York City Tunnels, New York (guys are 30) Warnings: Swearing, grammar mistakes ---++---++---++ Turtles ++---++---++---

A relaxing, slow and mindless day—thank the Universe and Pizza Supreme both – Donatello was able to get some much needed work done. He had a lot of updates he needed to make on the both of their vehicles, and Raphael wanted his help on completing his latest portion on the latest motorbike he'd been working on for the last six months. He had planned to spend the entire day, par meals and their scheduled two hour training periods, shell deep in their large garage. Music blaring, drills going, sparks flying, grease and oil cased until he was in much need of a shower.

He had planned that.

What he got instead was, at hour three, his silent border alarms went off on his wrist watch. Without hesitation but with many, many cuss-words stringing abound beneath his beak, he bee-lined it to his computers.

He'd been watching the group since, perhaps the last forty or so minutes; humans that were delving the tunnels. Looked like they were kids, five of them with the eldest possibly college age. But thankfully, they showed to be well-verse in protection and inspection of their surroundings; all wearing PM2.5 masks, the two leads sporting tactical night vision goggles with grade-A flexibility, a bonus in his books, and one of the guys in the middle with a night vision camera. This wasn't their first tunnel to explore.

“Any new things happening with the group?”

Don split his attention for a second to see his elder brother walk in, blue mask rested around his neck as he walked in with a small plate of donuts in one hand and two mugs in the other. Sweet, sweet Galileo, what a savior.

Just as the snack had been placed on a nearby table, Don grabbed a jelly donut and took an immediate large bite. The heavenly thankful sound he made was closer to a churr than a sigh when the grape jelly touched his tongue, but the black coffee made it all the better.

“No; but the young woman that's with them is funny.” he murmured through his bite and went back to his desk to continue surveying the said group.

“Funny?” Leo appeared standing next to him, the second mug in hand. "Funny, how?" His tone conveyed a blend of suspicion and curiosity as he looked at the screens that showcased the group, currently having stopped to laugh about something.

Don gave a nod towards the screens showing the kids through a bite that finished off the donut, “mmhm.” His smile peaked through his chewing and sip of coffee that gave his snack that delicious finish before he sighed, satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. “She made a joke about Brown Noise during their discussion about tinnitus. Apparently one of the boys' ears have been ringing, and she thought it was a perfect opportunity.” A chortle from his elder brother had him grinning; he knew Leo would at least get a kick out of the science joke, like he had.

“Are any of them related?” Leo leaned against the computer desk with a balanced arm while he sipped his coffee, his sapphire eyes taking detailed notes of the spy camera screens. He blinked when one of the screens zoomed in on two individuals; the tallest boy with a designed high buzz cut and an athletic body that screamed “sports jock” and the one girl in the group with wavy hair set in a high tail. Though, Don claims she's a young woman that's at least in her mid-twenties, based on her height and voice. Leo wasn't sure about that. “These two?” He raised a brow ridge. Even with them wearing PM2.5 masks and dexterous night vision goggles, he could tell they did not look anything alike.

“Yeah,” Don supplied and pointed his cursor on both, “after she made the joke, the boys were talking about how this kid, Kayden, and his family always make the others laugh with science jokes.” With a shrug he clicked the screen back to its original position, “not sure how they are related, but they are according to that admission.”

Leo nodded in acknowledgment, “any luck finding out who those two are?” He knew Don had a hard time locating their identities, unlike the other three boys, who were without facial obscuring goggles. When he saw the cursor move to another screen that was sifting through a picture-label directory at an unseeable speed, he blinked and raised a questioning brow ridge back at his grinning little brother.

“When Kayden's name came up, I started sifting through the boys' online schoolbooks.” His grin faltered as he looked on at the screen next to it with ten pictures of boys with the same name, varying spellings, displayed. When another popped up, his frown deepened, “it's a popular name, to say the least.”

All Leo could do is hum in agreement as yet another boy's image with provided basic information popped up on the growing list. So far, none of the listed boys looked like they could be the one in their tunnels, based on hair style alone.

Both tensed when the parameter alarms went off once more, only this time it wasn't the silent pings, but a short blaring.

Donatello shot up to attention with a slam of his now empty mug. With a few clicks, the alarm was shut off and he immediately went into the camera system to see where it was triggered.

“What asshole mutant decided to pick a fight today?” Raph grumbled as he jogged into the labs, a well-used towel draped around his girthy neck as he wiped it and his bare forehead from sweat.

“Not sure. Donnie's looking into it,” Leo's sights flickered to their baby brother screeching his skateboard to a halt at the threshold and kicked it up before entering.

“Yo, those kids alright?” Mikey sounded more concerned than the rest of them as he stood on Donatello's other side of the computer station. “They didn't stumble on Leatherhead, did they?”

Shit, Leo didn't even think about that. Looking back up at the screen, his eyes widened at seeing the now highlighted spy cam box that showcased the mutant parameter trigger. It was the same spy cam screen showcasing the kids standing by the water.

The kids had stopped at some point to look at the water, something having caught their attention. They seemed to be frozen, all five looking tense with anticipation for something to happen. When Don clicked to increase the video size and began to mess with the settings, Leo couldn't help but feel that he and his brothers were now reflecting the human group on the screen: tense, coiled, and sweating with sparking anticipation.

A separate screen popped up, highlighting a zoomed area where one of the humans was already looking towards. When Don enhanced the settings for a sharper, clearer look at what was in the water, all four turtles sharply inhaled.

“Shit.” Don frantically stood from his chair and by passed his brothers to grab his gear.

“Dojo. Now!” Leo clipped, and he and his two other brothers ran full speed to get their weapons.

Not even seconds later, all four were running down the tunnels towards the one that held the human group.

“Donnie! Fastest route, now!”

He was three steps ahead of Leo as he yelled “this way!” and flipped onto his shell after a sharp turn; they were taking the fastest short cut through the river tunnels.

“How long 'till we get to the kids, Brain?” Raph hollered through the rush of the water.

“Any way we can get eyes on them!?” Yeah, the brothers could sympathize with Mikey on that one.

Don held up his wrist to double check their trajectory and time on his projected screen, “less than a minute!” He looked back towards his brothers, “Sorry, Mike—not gonna be able to hold eyes on them with this water spray.”

“Awe man.”

“I want all of you primed,” Leo interjected, “Donnie, focus on any that are injured—get them out of there immediately. Mikey, help him with either the injured or protection, preferably the latter. Raph, you're with me. We're going to keep that sonuvabitch off of them.” A loud crick sounded over the water spray of their fast travel as Raph flexed his neck, “with pleasure.”

Picture Perfect Memory

I've been fighting with myself on posting this for the past month, so I'm just going to do it. I normally don't write this stuff, but something about being grabbed by the moment and flying away with it, ya know?

🔞 Minors Do Not Engage

In dedication to the lovely @angelicdavinci - who's work with her own muse leaves constant sparks in the brain ✨💕✨💕

Leo x Reader

Everyone is well into adulthood ages with this.

This was written with Bayverse in mind, but I do believe any iteration could work with this.

Warnings: Smut, Edging (lots of edging...I regret nothing), Heated first kiss, grammar mistakes (most likely)

Sapphire blue eyes stared wide-eyed at you from across the loft. The lights were set to dim and it allowed the blue-masked ninja to be silhouetted with the night sky of the city; god, this giant turtle was going to be the death of your brain with all the inspiration he gives you so nonchalantly.

His eyes roamed over your body once more and it was all you could do to keep your hands at your hips and your expectant stare set away from silent satisfaction. You couldn't help the twitch of a self-asserted proud grin when his eyes locked with yours and realized he'd been caught undressing you with just his eyes. With a clear of his throat, twice, he finally spoke, “Wh-what was that?” you barely caught the whisper of your name as he looked off, though he couldn't stop staring every so often.

You couldn't blame him, though. You were wearing his signature color; a sapphire silk robe, tied closed that ended mid-thigh with seemingly nothing underneath. Oh, if only he knew...

“I said,” you chuckled out and eased into a casual air to help calm him down, “can you do me a favor for a new painting project? I need to get some reference photos made, but the pose is...ah, difficult to accomplish with certain elements requested on the piece.”

Leo lifted a brow ridge and eyed you warily, “what sort of elements?”

Your lips pressed into a flat-line at his suspicious tone. Honestly, fair, given the circumstances he walked into on his unexpected visit.

“Before I say, I would like to reiterate that this is for a commission piece,” you raised up two hands to deliver your point, with an equally insinuated pointed stare, “okay?”

He snorted a laugh and finally turned back to you, his eyes finally showcasing ease and that spark you've grown to enjoy seeing from him. “Okay. What difficult elements has your latest client saddled you with?”

“Funny you use the word 'saddle',” you muttered, and before he could ask you to repeat yourself, you gave a beaming smile—all charm, no seduction, even a pretty-pretty please tone for good measure as you lead him to where your camera was pointed, “I need you to lift me up off the ground, please—“

“I'm sorry, what?” Shit, he crossed his arms; he is so much harder to convince when he crosses his arms.

You sighed in exasperation, “I need the weight of the cloth and feet to look a specific way, Leo—I've looked everywhere on the websites and reference packages I use on the regular, and there isn't a good combo for either or both. SO,” you clap your hands together, meaning business, “it's self-reference time, and you just happen to decide to pop in on an unannounced visit at the most perfect time to help.”

When he continued to stare down at you, an unreadable expression stagnant on his features, you clasped your hands together and gave him a pleading stare in return, “please? Pretty please? I'll-let-you-have-the-last-of-the-blueberry-cheesecake-pretty-pretty-please?”

After another second, he breathed a short laugh through his nostrils and smiled. Amusement was clear on his lips, though his eyes...they seemed to glow with something, but before you could pin that glow he unfolded his arms to brace his hands on his hips, “Alright, you tempted my tastebuds.” You gave a short victory hiss and small fist pump before he continued, “Is this going to be a lift under your arms? Waist?”

You waived your hand nonchalantly before motioning for him to remove the bulkier portions of his weapons. “A bit more complicated than that, but I'll walk you through it,” a thought struck you and you quickly went to check your camera settings and positioning while Leo placed his weapons on the table a few paces away.

With a hum, you calculated how long this might take and properly adjusted your camera settings and shutter time. When Leo walked back into view, it allowed you to adjust the angle for better quality and no head-chopping-off effects. You absentmindedly saw his lips move through the lens, but it wasn't until you saw him chuckle did you register he said something.

“Sorry, was concentrating,” with a final click and the timers sets, you walked back to him, “what'd you say?”

“What makes this so complicated if all I'm doing is lifting you up for real-time gravity's sake?”

You gave a small swallow as you stood before him once more. The pose description from the commission read through your mind's eye, and for some reason you just noticed how tall he was compared to you. Shit, you hope you didn't accidentally fuck up the camera angle. Maybe you should check it once more? No! No. You're stalling at this point, and you promised yourself you would be better about that this year.

So what if Leonardo has been your muse since you've met, and your crush for just shorter that time frame? You could do this with ease and nonchalance. Like always. For his sake.

Never mind the high sexual content of the comiss—ANYWAY.

“Sorry!” You blinked back to attention when he snapped in front of your eyes. He chuckled in amusement as you gathered your nerves, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh, “was mentally going over the pose description and...got lost in thought.” With a clearing of your throat, you reminded yourself of his original question and summoned every ounce of your willpower to retain ease of relaxation. For his sake. “It's a no-nude, sexually suggestive wall-pose, meant for a cover option for the client's latest romance novel.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from laughing at his saucer-wide eyes and the blush that just exploded from his features. Fuck, you had no idea he could blush and goddammit he is so fucking adorable—the sound of the first shutter from your camera brought you back. Focus. You can do that. For his sake.

“I, uh...don't know if I can do that...?” His voice was calm yet hesitant, though his widened eyes and twitching fingers showed just how scared he was. At least, you think it was scared nerves. With an exhale through your nose, you gave a small smile and gently took hold of one of his hands.

“Hey, it's okay,” you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before gently squeezing his arm with your other hand, “it's just me; it's just us. We don't have to focus on the emotional side of it, just the posing.” You made a thoughtful look before you winced, “don't think you'd be able to do the specific emotion for the guy that was described, anyway.”

A chortle escaped the back of your throat as he struggled to not look offended at your words, “and, exactly, how was he described?”

You knew what he was suggesting with that question. And you couldn't help the endearing smile from spreading on your lips as he refrained from looking annoyed. God, he seriously was cute.

“So, I don't know what all you have going on with all this turtliness,” you said playfully as you motioned to all of him before grinning up at him, “but I highly doubt you are hiding wolf features that could be handy in this project.”

His eyes widened for a third time before he balked in a laugh, bracing his free hand suddenly against the wall behind you, “I'm sorr—what?” You shrugged, still holding the smirk as you watched him get it out of his system, “What is your clientele?” The shutter went off a second time, and you made a mental note to keep that specific picture for yourself.

“Leonardo. Lee. My dude. My muse,” you braced a hand on the arm that was next to your head before giving him a deadpan stare, “you really, really don't want to know that answer. Just know that their big bucks pay the bills and our penchant for expensive and extravagant desserts.”

His laughs died down and his sapphire eyes stared at you, not quite wide but still shocked. You raised a silent, questioning brow as you wondered what you'd said that stunned him into silence. Ah hell, was he imagining all the depravity you have to stifle through for commissions? Hell, if he only knew the half of it.

“What'd you say?” His soft whisper caught you off guard and you blinked. That...didn't sound like he was imagining the horrors of depraved, unhinged commissions.

You blinked once. Twice. And gave up on guessing, “I said a lot, Lee; can you give me a hint here?”

Suddenly, the hand that had been holding yours raised to gently cup your cheek. You froze, eyes widening similarly to how his were before, as you stared at the sapphire shining just inches before you.

“What did you call me?” His whispered words ghosted your lips, and just as suddenly your throat tightened.

Shit. What did you say, this time? Something good, maybe? Hopefully? Had to have been; the awe-struck wonder and painfully clear hope ringing in his eyes and voice, raw as silken honey, gave notion that you said something very good. Called him something heavenly.

As you went back on what you said and all the names you called him at the start, nothing rang out of the ordinary for you. Until you realized you said something extra among his general nicknames.

Your eyes widened further, the swallow in your throat clicking at the difficulty with how tightly it closed off, and you felt how hot your blush erupted all over your face, ears, and even down your chest. His thumb graced the apple of your cheek, seemingly following the spread of your blush as his eyes roamed your features. With a breadth, his eyes became hooded and he took a step closer; closing the space between you two as he stood up taller, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. His thumb and forefinger cradled the base of your skull so comfortably, so perfectly, and with a gentle pinch he leaned your head back to look up at him in full.

“What did you call me, little bird?” His voice had dropped an octave, and with the added husk you nearly felt your knees lock.

You swallowed, heavily. Audibly. Heart thrumming in your ears as you felt the smallest, tiniest intake of his breadth caused his plastron to brush against your silk robe. You were suddenly aware of his closeness, suffocating and yet not close enough; of his touch, encroaching and subtly suggestive and yet not with enough pressure; of his eyes, steady and hopefully patient, yet not near as demanding as they could be.

The shutter went off a third time.

He blinked, and his one movement allowed you to take a stuttering breadth you hadn't realized you'd been holding. A hand relaxed on the upper edge of his plastron to hold yourself steady, eyes fixated on his once more. His sapphire gleams moved to watch your lips as you finally spoke, “My Muse.”

For a heart-stopping second, you felt the short, tension line between you two grow taught. At the next second, you breathed in a gasp that was quickly swallowed up; your silk covered back pressed hard against the cool of your wall as his body encompassed yours, fingers pinching just right to keep your head aloft, jaws slack, as he drank the air from your lungs with a hunger that you were daft to call a kiss.

Too suddenly and yet not fast enough, you felt his other hand caress from the wall, down your neck, shoulder, graze the side of your breast, and rest at your waist. Rest wasn't the appropriate word, as he kneed and stroked your waist and hip without moving further, but god it was becoming hard to think with how he held your lips captive against his; heated, hungry, consuming, possessive. As if he were not to live, breathe, for another second if he were to let go.

You became dizzy, lungs beginning to pinch from need of air. Your hands flew to his neck and gripped tight to his scale skin, nails dragging down with a whimper until you grasped desperately at the top edge of his plastron. You felt his plastron shudder against you before his breadth followed suit against your lips. He pulled back, barely an inch, allowing you a short reprieve before he dove back in even hungrier.

Your surprised squeal turned into an embarrassing moan when his tongue suddenly left a trail from your chin to the cleft edge of your upper lip; grazing your teeth and teasing the entrance of your mouth that left you a melted mess against his strong body. Your breadth staggered out, following his tongue as he pulled back, ending the kiss too quickly and leaving you wanton.

His dark chuckle tickled your ear when you felt him press against the pulse of your neck right behind it. “Are you going to sing for me, little bird?” You unconsciously tried to move your neck, to give him ample room, but he held you steady. “I think it's a possibility. Don't you?” His voice was filled with husk as he nudged the back of your ear with his beak. The hand cupping the back of your neck tensed as he simultaneously moved his other hand to brace against the outside of your thigh, raising it high with an effortless grip that slid his hand just shy under the hem of your robe. Your breadth staggered, blush deepening to an even dizzier effect when he stepped impossibly closer, fitting just right between your thighs.

He breathed in deeply against your ear before his tongue began working your neck in full. His hand knead into your thigh, simultaneously raising your leg subtly higher until you felt your knee graze the outer ridge of his shell. Fuck, if you felt yourself get any hotter, you were going to feel faint. It had been far too long since anyone touched you with such attentions, let alone attentions you've wanted from any said person.

A moan vibrated against your throat as he licked from your clavicle to your chin. Your own hitched moan of his name pressed against his opened mouth when he nearly stole another hungry kiss, your fluttering eyes locking with his glazed, blown eyes. God, there was hardly any sapphire showing—how could he go from adorable to hot—

You barely had time to gasp when you were suddenly lifted, arms wrapping around his neck in shock before his mouth devoured yours once more; tongue teasing the inside of your lips, barely grazing the edges of your teeth, leaving you a groaning mess. His hand slid to the cress of your thigh and held firm, holding you aloft one-handed as he pressed his body firm, almost full weight, against yours and flush against the wall, stealing your breadth in multiple ways that squeezed your lungs so good.

A guttural vibration against your chest made the weighted and breathless sensations all the more heavenly as your body vibrated in response. Your hips twitched suddenly, as much as they could, repeatedly as the vibrations from his chest continued and god—he had you in a helpless mess; unable to move, completely pinned and limp against him as he held you aloft in his strong hands, leaving not even enough room between you two for your hips to fully grind against his waist. A desperate moan rang into his mouth as you realized you were as much his puppet, his doll, as he was your muse.

You couldn't find a single fiber in your being that was upset about that. Not when you were already feeling so edged, so good, with him barely having touched you.

He suddenly stopped everything, frozen against you, and you wanted to scream in frustration; to beg and demand him to continue, but even his stilled mouth held yours captive. When his hand at the cress of your thigh purposefully brushed against fine lace instead of bare skin, you realized why he froze.

When you opened your eyes at his continued stillness, you felt yourself become still as a statue. His blown eyes bore into you; so many emotions passed within that intense, heavy stare and yet you could not name a single one. A deep seeded part of you was filled with enough dark curiosity that you didn't feel deft to explain yourself under his gaze, even if he freed your lips to do so.

His hand ghosted the lace as it rose higher, higher, and remained on the lace as he maneuvered his hand to your lumbar and nearly lifted your silk robe completely bare from your legs. Lace was still felt at your lower back, and a single finger stroked upward towards your waist, and when lace was still felt he finally broke the stilled kiss apart with a resounding smack to look down, as if he possessed x-ray vision to see through your silk robe and both your pressed bodies to see the secrets that you were hiding. It was enough to elicit a small chuckle from you, one that was cut short when his dark eyes snapped back to you. You bit down your chuckle, but there was no helping the smile to die down.

“Did you plan this out, little bird?” His husk-filled voice vibrated in your chest, leaving a moan stuck in your throat.

You supposed that was a fair assumption. But, really. He should know who he's talking to at this point.

“My muse,” you whispered, breathless, and did not miss how his breadth caught at the new petname, “am I really someone as suave as that? Be honest.”

He stared at you, really looking at you. Mussed up, breathless, flushed to dizziness, and absolute putty in his hands. And exhaled a short laugh against your face, “no,” he leaned in and nuzzled the side of your jaw with his beak, “but you definitely had me fooled.”

With two flicks of his wrist and a single step back, you felt your robe give way. Your eyes flashed to his raised head as he looked down; as much as you wanted his weight pressed up against you again, you wanted to see his reaction to your chosen outfit that was only supposed to peek at your shoulder for the photo references.

For the fourth time that night, his eyes widened, though there was no sapphire to be seen among the whites. With open, unabashed awe, Leonardo stared down at your sheer, floral printed lace body suit; extremely fine lingerie that was paper thin and did not hide anything. Gooseflesh arose across your exposed front; the body suit exposing your breasts in a deep v-cut that ended just above your naval and barely covering your nipples, which hardened into pebbles against the harsh floral embroidered print of the sheer lace.

But what you knew what got him caught up, what nearly had him drooling was the bright blue color—the exact same as his mask. You knew no matter how many times you'd be able to tell him, from this moment on he would never believe that you owned this item of clothing prior to having met him. And a heavy part of you didn't feel the need to ever correct that assumption, whether he would share it or not.

Speaking of heavy...

With gentle touches to his cheek, you were able to drag his attention from your body and back to your eyes; he finally took a breadth that you just realized he had been holding. With a wide smile, you nosed his beak, “I thought you were going to make me sing, my Muse?”

Instantly, the vibrations in his chest continued and a breadth later, his body weight was pressed back onto yours. You gasped, sighed out all-too-happily with that wide smile; his hand lowered back to your thigh, now half on your ass and gripping so tightly you knew you were going to bruise before morning. A sound erupted through his vibrations, what sounded like a purr and yet held a different note and rhythm entirely.

Your sigh turned into a loud, vocal moan when he took your throat into the entirety of his mouth and pressed his teeth just enough for pressure; his vibrations and fast churring adding a sensation you never knew you missed, yet needed as it caused your vocals to vibrate out. His tongue pressed further pressure against the front of your throat, squeezing your vibrating moan to cut off every so often.

Tears from overwhelming, amazing sensations were felt at the edges of your eyes as he slowly released your throat. You barely caught the sight of a grin in your peripheral when your hips attempted another frenzied twitch when he pressed impossibly closer. Your lips moved against his when he spoke the words that would have you broken forever:

“My little bird, I'll make you come so hard that you'll forget how to swallow.”

Picture Perfect Memory

I've been fighting with myself on posting this for the past month, so I'm just going to do it. I normally don't write this stuff, but something about being grabbed by the moment and flying away with it, ya know?

🔞 Minors Do Not Engage

In dedication to the lovely @angelicdavinci - who's work with her own muse leaves constant sparks in the brain ✨💕✨💕

Leo x Reader

Everyone is well into adulthood ages with this.

This was written with Bayverse in mind, but I do believe any iteration could work with this.

Warnings: Smut, Edging (lots of edging...I regret nothing), Heated first kiss, grammar mistakes (most likely)

Sapphire blue eyes stared wide-eyed at you from across the loft. The lights were set to dim and it allowed the blue-masked ninja to be silhouetted with the night sky of the city; god, this giant turtle was going to be the death of your brain with all the inspiration he gives you so nonchalantly.

His eyes roamed over your body once more and it was all you could do to keep your hands at your hips and your expectant stare set away from silent satisfaction. You couldn't help the twitch of a self-asserted proud grin when his eyes locked with yours and realized he'd been caught undressing you with just his eyes. With a clear of his throat, twice, he finally spoke, “Wh-what was that?” you barely caught the whisper of your name as he looked off, though he couldn't stop staring every so often.

You couldn't blame him, though. You were wearing his signature color; a sapphire silk robe, tied closed that ended mid-thigh with seemingly nothing underneath. Oh, if only he knew...

“I said,” you chuckled out and eased into a casual air to help calm him down, “can you do me a favor for a new painting project? I need to get some reference photos made, but the pose is...ah, difficult to accomplish with certain elements requested on the piece.”

Leo lifted a brow ridge and eyed you warily, “what sort of elements?”

Your lips pressed into a flat-line at his suspicious tone. Honestly, fair, given the circumstances he walked into on his unexpected visit.

“Before I say, I would like to reiterate that this is for a commission piece,” you raised up two hands to deliver your point, with an equally insinuated pointed stare, “okay?”

He snorted a laugh and finally turned back to you, his eyes finally showcasing ease and that spark you've grown to enjoy seeing from him. “Okay. What difficult elements has your latest client saddled you with?”

“Funny you use the word 'saddle',” you muttered, and before he could ask you to repeat yourself, you gave a beaming smile—all charm, no seduction, even a pretty-pretty please tone for good measure as you lead him to where your camera was pointed, “I need you to lift me up off the ground, please—“

“I'm sorry, what?” Shit, he crossed his arms; he is so much harder to convince when he crosses his arms.

You sighed in exasperation, “I need the weight of the cloth and feet to look a specific way, Leo—I've looked everywhere on the websites and reference packages I use on the regular, and there isn't a good combo for either or both. SO,” you clap your hands together, meaning business, “it's self-reference time, and you just happen to decide to pop in on an unannounced visit at the most perfect time to help.”

When he continued to stare down at you, an unreadable expression stagnant on his features, you clasped your hands together and gave him a pleading stare in return, “please? Pretty please? I'll-let-you-have-the-last-of-the-blueberry-cheesecake-pretty-pretty-please?”

After another second, he breathed a short laugh through his nostrils and smiled. Amusement was clear on his lips, though his eyes...they seemed to glow with something, but before you could pin that glow he unfolded his arms to brace his hands on his hips, “Alright, you tempted my tastebuds.” You gave a short victory hiss and small fist pump before he continued, “Is this going to be a lift under your arms? Waist?”

You waived your hand nonchalantly before motioning for him to remove the bulkier portions of his weapons. “A bit more complicated than that, but I'll walk you through it,” a thought struck you and you quickly went to check your camera settings and positioning while Leo placed his weapons on the table a few paces away.

With a hum, you calculated how long this might take and properly adjusted your camera settings and shutter time. When Leo walked back into view, it allowed you to adjust the angle for better quality and no head-chopping-off effects. You absentmindedly saw his lips move through the lens, but it wasn't until you saw him chuckle did you register he said something.

“Sorry, was concentrating,” with a final click and the timers sets, you walked back to him, “what'd you say?”

“What makes this so complicated if all I'm doing is lifting you up for real-time gravity's sake?”

You gave a small swallow as you stood before him once more. The pose description from the commission read through your mind's eye, and for some reason you just noticed how tall he was compared to you. Shit, you hope you didn't accidentally fuck up the camera angle. Maybe you should check it once more? No! No. You're stalling at this point, and you promised yourself you would be better about that this year.

So what if Leonardo has been your muse since you've met, and your crush for just shorter that time frame? You could do this with ease and nonchalance. Like always. For his sake.

Never mind the high sexual content of the comiss—ANYWAY.

“Sorry!” You blinked back to attention when he snapped in front of your eyes. He chuckled in amusement as you gathered your nerves, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh, “was mentally going over the pose description and...got lost in thought.” With a clearing of your throat, you reminded yourself of his original question and summoned every ounce of your willpower to retain ease of relaxation. For his sake. “It's a no-nude, sexually suggestive wall-pose, meant for a cover option for the client's latest romance novel.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from laughing at his saucer-wide eyes and the blush that just exploded from his features. Fuck, you had no idea he could blush and goddammit he is so fucking adorable—the sound of the first shutter from your camera brought you back. Focus. You can do that. For his sake.

“I, uh...don't know if I can do that...?” His voice was calm yet hesitant, though his widened eyes and twitching fingers showed just how scared he was. At least, you think it was scared nerves. With an exhale through your nose, you gave a small smile and gently took hold of one of his hands.

“Hey, it's okay,” you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before gently squeezing his arm with your other hand, “it's just me; it's just us. We don't have to focus on the emotional side of it, just the posing.” You made a thoughtful look before you winced, “don't think you'd be able to do the specific emotion for the guy that was described, anyway.”

A chortle escaped the back of your throat as he struggled to not look offended at your words, “and, exactly, how was he described?”

You knew what he was suggesting with that question. And you couldn't help the endearing smile from spreading on your lips as he refrained from looking annoyed. God, he seriously was cute.

“So, I don't know what all you have going on with all this turtliness,” you said playfully as you motioned to all of him before grinning up at him, “but I highly doubt you are hiding wolf features that could be handy in this project.”

His eyes widened for a third time before he balked in a laugh, bracing his free hand suddenly against the wall behind you, “I'm sorr—what?” You shrugged, still holding the smirk as you watched him get it out of his system, “What is your clientele?” The shutter went off a second time, and you made a mental note to keep that specific picture for yourself.

“Leonardo. Lee. My dude. My muse,” you braced a hand on the arm that was next to your head before giving him a deadpan stare, “you really, really don't want to know that answer. Just know that their big bucks pay the bills and our penchant for expensive and extravagant desserts.”

His laughs died down and his sapphire eyes stared at you, not quite wide but still shocked. You raised a silent, questioning brow as you wondered what you'd said that stunned him into silence. Ah hell, was he imagining all the depravity you have to stifle through for commissions? Hell, if he only knew the half of it.

“What'd you say?” His soft whisper caught you off guard and you blinked. That...didn't sound like he was imagining the horrors of depraved, unhinged commissions.

You blinked once. Twice. And gave up on guessing, “I said a lot, Lee; can you give me a hint here?”

Suddenly, the hand that had been holding yours raised to gently cup your cheek. You froze, eyes widening similarly to how his were before, as you stared at the sapphire shining just inches before you.

“What did you call me?” His whispered words ghosted your lips, and just as suddenly your throat tightened.

Shit. What did you say, this time? Something good, maybe? Hopefully? Had to have been; the awe-struck wonder and painfully clear hope ringing in his eyes and voice, raw as silken honey, gave notion that you said something very good. Called him something heavenly.

As you went back on what you said and all the names you called him at the start, nothing rang out of the ordinary for you. Until you realized you said something extra among his general nicknames.

Your eyes widened further, the swallow in your throat clicking at the difficulty with how tightly it closed off, and you felt how hot your blush erupted all over your face, ears, and even down your chest. His thumb graced the apple of your cheek, seemingly following the spread of your blush as his eyes roamed your features. With a breadth, his eyes became hooded and he took a step closer; closing the space between you two as he stood up taller, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. His thumb and forefinger cradled the base of your skull so comfortably, so perfectly, and with a gentle pinch he leaned your head back to look up at him in full.

“What did you call me, little bird?” His voice had dropped an octave, and with the added husk you nearly felt your knees lock.

You swallowed, heavily. Audibly. Heart thrumming in your ears as you felt the smallest, tiniest intake of his breadth caused his plastron to brush against your silk robe. You were suddenly aware of his closeness, suffocating and yet not close enough; of his touch, encroaching and subtly suggestive and yet not with enough pressure; of his eyes, steady and hopefully patient, yet not near as demanding as they could be.

The shutter went off a third time.

He blinked, and his one movement allowed you to take a stuttering breadth you hadn't realized you'd been holding. A hand relaxed on the upper edge of his plastron to hold yourself steady, eyes fixated on his once more. His sapphire gleams moved to watch your lips as you finally spoke, “My Muse.”

For a heart-stopping second, you felt the short, tension line between you two grow taught. At the next second, you breathed in a gasp that was quickly swallowed up; your silk covered back pressed hard against the cool of your wall as his body encompassed yours, fingers pinching just right to keep your head aloft, jaws slack, as he drank the air from your lungs with a hunger that you were daft to call a kiss.

Too suddenly and yet not fast enough, you felt his other hand caress from the wall, down your neck, shoulder, graze the side of your breast, and rest at your waist. Rest wasn't the appropriate word, as he kneed and stroked your waist and hip without moving further, but god it was becoming hard to think with how he held your lips captive against his; heated, hungry, consuming, possessive. As if he were not to live, breathe, for another second if he were to let go.

You became dizzy, lungs beginning to pinch from need of air. Your hands flew to his neck and gripped tight to his scale skin, nails dragging down with a whimper until you grasped desperately at the top edge of his plastron. You felt his plastron shudder against you before his breadth followed suit against your lips. He pulled back, barely an inch, allowing you a short reprieve before he dove back in even hungrier.

Your surprised squeal turned into an embarrassing moan when his tongue suddenly left a trail from your chin to the cleft edge of your upper lip; grazing your teeth and teasing the entrance of your mouth that left you a melted mess against his strong body. Your breadth staggered out, following his tongue as he pulled back, ending the kiss too quickly and leaving you wanton.

His dark chuckle tickled your ear when you felt him press against the pulse of your neck right behind it. “Are you going to sing for me, little bird?” You unconsciously tried to move your neck, to give him ample room, but he held you steady. “I think it's a possibility. Don't you?” His voice was filled with husk as he nudged the back of your ear with his beak. The hand cupping the back of your neck tensed as he simultaneously moved his other hand to brace against the outside of your thigh, raising it high with an effortless grip that slid his hand just shy under the hem of your robe. Your breadth staggered, blush deepening to an even dizzier effect when he stepped impossibly closer, fitting just right between your thighs.

He breathed in deeply against your ear before his tongue began working your neck in full. His hand knead into your thigh, simultaneously raising your leg subtly higher until you felt your knee graze the outer ridge of his shell. Fuck, if you felt yourself get any hotter, you were going to feel faint. It had been far too long since anyone touched you with such attentions, let alone attentions you've wanted from any said person.

A moan vibrated against your throat as he licked from your clavicle to your chin. Your own hitched moan of his name pressed against his opened mouth when he nearly stole another hungry kiss, your fluttering eyes locking with his glazed, blown eyes. God, there was hardly any sapphire showing—how could he go from adorable to hot—

You barely had time to gasp when you were suddenly lifted, arms wrapping around his neck in shock before his mouth devoured yours once more; tongue teasing the inside of your lips, barely grazing the edges of your teeth, leaving you a groaning mess. His hand slid to the cress of your thigh and held firm, holding you aloft one-handed as he pressed his body firm, almost full weight, against yours and flush against the wall, stealing your breadth in multiple ways that squeezed your lungs so good.

A guttural vibration against your chest made the weighted and breathless sensations all the more heavenly as your body vibrated in response. Your hips twitched suddenly, as much as they could, repeatedly as the vibrations from his chest continued and god—he had you in a helpless mess; unable to move, completely pinned and limp against him as he held you aloft in his strong hands, leaving not even enough room between you two for your hips to fully grind against his waist. A desperate moan rang into his mouth as you realized you were as much his puppet, his doll, as he was your muse.

You couldn't find a single fiber in your being that was upset about that. Not when you were already feeling so edged, so good, with him barely having touched you.

He suddenly stopped everything, frozen against you, and you wanted to scream in frustration; to beg and demand him to continue, but even his stilled mouth held yours captive. When his hand at the cress of your thigh purposefully brushed against fine lace instead of bare skin, you realized why he froze.

When you opened your eyes at his continued stillness, you felt yourself become still as a statue. His blown eyes bore into you; so many emotions passed within that intense, heavy stare and yet you could not name a single one. A deep seeded part of you was filled with enough dark curiosity that you didn't feel deft to explain yourself under his gaze, even if he freed your lips to do so.

His hand ghosted the lace as it rose higher, higher, and remained on the lace as he maneuvered his hand to your lumbar and nearly lifted your silk robe completely bare from your legs. Lace was still felt at your lower back, and a single finger stroked upward towards your waist, and when lace was still felt he finally broke the stilled kiss apart with a resounding smack to look down, as if he possessed x-ray vision to see through your silk robe and both your pressed bodies to see the secrets that you were hiding. It was enough to elicit a small chuckle from you, one that was cut short when his dark eyes snapped back to you. You bit down your chuckle, but there was no helping the smile to die down.

“Did you plan this out, little bird?” His husk-filled voice vibrated in your chest, leaving a moan stuck in your throat.

You supposed that was a fair assumption. But, really. He should know who he's talking to at this point.

“My muse,” you whispered, breathless, and did not miss how his breadth caught at the new petname, “am I really someone as suave as that? Be honest.”

He stared at you, really looking at you. Mussed up, breathless, flushed to dizziness, and absolute putty in his hands. And exhaled a short laugh against your face, “no,” he leaned in and nuzzled the side of your jaw with his beak, “but you definitely had me fooled.”

With two flicks of his wrist and a single step back, you felt your robe give way. Your eyes flashed to his raised head as he looked down; as much as you wanted his weight pressed up against you again, you wanted to see his reaction to your chosen outfit that was only supposed to peek at your shoulder for the photo references.

For the fourth time that night, his eyes widened, though there was no sapphire to be seen among the whites. With open, unabashed awe, Leonardo stared down at your sheer, floral printed lace body suit; extremely fine lingerie that was paper thin and did not hide anything. Gooseflesh arose across your exposed front; the body suit exposing your breasts in a deep v-cut that ended just above your naval and barely covering your nipples, which hardened into pebbles against the harsh floral embroidered print of the sheer lace.

But what you knew what got him caught up, what nearly had him drooling was the bright blue color—the exact same as his mask. You knew no matter how many times you'd be able to tell him, from this moment on he would never believe that you owned this item of clothing prior to having met him. And a heavy part of you didn't feel the need to ever correct that assumption, whether he would share it or not.

Speaking of heavy...

With gentle touches to his cheek, you were able to drag his attention from your body and back to your eyes; he finally took a breadth that you just realized he had been holding. With a wide smile, you nosed his beak, “I thought you were going to make me sing, my Muse?”

Instantly, the vibrations in his chest continued and a breadth later, his body weight was pressed back onto yours. You gasped, sighed out all-too-happily with that wide smile; his hand lowered back to your thigh, now half on your ass and gripping so tightly you knew you were going to bruise before morning. A sound erupted through his vibrations, what sounded like a purr and yet held a different note and rhythm entirely.

Your sigh turned into a loud, vocal moan when he took your throat into the entirety of his mouth and pressed his teeth just enough for pressure; his vibrations and fast churring adding a sensation you never knew you missed, yet needed as it caused your vocals to vibrate out. His tongue pressed further pressure against the front of your throat, squeezing your vibrating moan to cut off every so often.

Tears from overwhelming, amazing sensations were felt at the edges of your eyes as he slowly released your throat. You barely caught the sight of a grin in your peripheral when your hips attempted another frenzied twitch when he pressed impossibly closer. Your lips moved against his when he spoke the words that would have you broken forever:

“My little bird, I'll make you come so hard that you'll forget how to swallow.”