#didn't need a battery replacement

[tuxedoprincess]

waiting for the 4th gen ipod nano and 2nd gen ipod touch that i got from ebay to come in... haven't fully settled on what i want to do with them as it was an impulse buy while i was at work but i will figure it out

[sealrock]

tell me, what makes a human?

[stabbyfoxandrew]

okay for y'all not aware (how?) i am a giant nerd. and love yugioh. for the last couple days i have been playing masterduel on my laptop and just getting slayed by bitches with insane combos?? (i love it i am not good at it there's a difference)

so i just dug out my old PSP hoping to play my yugioh game on that (it's only verses NPCs, who i can actually beat lol)

but the battery is swollen and dead and wahhhhhhhhhh

i have had this console since i was twelve. i have been afraid to try and turn it on for like five years. and now ;-;

[canadiankakashi]

Im repairing chromebooks for my internship and I can't help but wonder what the fuck happened to them

This ain't normal

You are not at all supposed to see the white thing the pins go into, it's supposed to have a cover

[vaeolus]

i hate you """"intelligent"""" key fobs i hate you cars that don't turn on with a key i hate you push to start cars i hate you smart technology i hate you key fobs i hate you key fobs i hate you key fobs

[arccanine]

Someone rummaged through my car when I was off on vacation and the only reason I noticed is because my empty weed packages that I need to recycle were taken out of the center console and tossed back on the seat in what I'm sure was great dismay

[angryborzois]

Going to replace my laptop battery soon lets goo

[the-everqueen]

for some inexplicable reason my laptop stopped charging while i was in [conference city] and i panicked that i was going to have to immediately replace the battery, get the ports cleaned/replaced, salvage the hard drive. then i got home and it works the same as before i left. don't get me wrong, i'm glad. but also i would like to know what caused this crisis so i can maybe prevent it happening again.

[baronessvonglitter]

America's Favorite Pastime

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: your dad invites his best friend Joel over to watch the baseball game, with no clue that Joel's been sneaking around with you. Being a feisty little brat, you make a risky move while the three of you watch the game.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (Joel is mid forties, reader is late teens or early twenties), secret relationship, fingering, hand jobs on the sly, basically getting away with smutty stuff while your dad's nearby

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Your Uncle Joel's comin' by for a bit, gonna watch the ballgame," your dad tells you one warm June evening. Uncle Joel.. you keep your smirk to yourself as you think on the nickname you've known your dad's best friend by all these years. It's especially inappropriate now that you've been hooking up with him since spring break.

And right on time, Joel shows up at your door, jeans snug in all the right places, a heather-gray shirt clinging to his chest, drawing your eyes to the biceps peeking out from beneath his sleeves. There's a few salt and pepper streaks at his temples and in his beard, which when you've pointed out to him, he's laughed off. His eyes dilate at the sight of you, giving you a once-over before he fixes his expression to be one of sociability. "Hey darlin', where's your dad?" he drawls.

"He's on the warpath, can't find batteries to replace the ones in the remote." You let him in, noting the way he brushes against you casually, as if on accident. His hand gently cups your ass, a quick feel before you settle into your roles as family friends. "I'm used to seeing you come through the back door.. or through my window," you murmur, watching his eyes darken with lustful remembrance. "Dad, Uncle Joel's here!" you shout upstairs.

"Damn it, I gotta find some more batteries," Ray calls out from the second floor. "Make yourself at home, buddy!"

Joel chuckles softly at Ray's outburst, his eyes twinkling with playful amusement, and he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. "Looks like we've got a little privacy for a minute, darlin'," he murmurs huskily, his hands sliding down to your hips.

Your panties are already damp at the feel of his large hands on you, fingers playing at the smooth skin between the bottom of your shirt and the top of your shorts. You reach up and run your tongue along the seam of his lips while you put his hand down the front of your jean shorts.

Joel's eyes darken with desire as you guide his hand, his own breath hitching with pleasure at the feel of your warm, wet flesh. "Jesus, Little Miss Eager.. darlin', you're gonna get us caught," he mutters gruffly, his voice husky with need.

"That's part of the thrill," you whisper as he presses you against the back of the sofa. His fingers slide over your slick folds, teasing you, daring you to cry out or whimper.

He grunts softly as his fingers circle your clit, wishing he was nibbling on it the way you love. "What's wrong? Didn't get enough last night? Drivin' me crazy, even with your daddy right upstairs," he whispers back, his voice taut with desire. "Does your daddy know how dirty you are?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," you reply, breathing rapidly at the feel of his invading fingers.

His fingers explore you, teasing you enough without actually giving in to what you want. "You naughty little thing," he whispers against your ear. "You like takin' the risk, don't you? Lettin' me touch you like this even though your daddy could walk in."

"I am naughty.. your naughty little girl.. your naughty little dirty girl.." your voice breaks, gasping.

Joel grunts softly. "Damn right you are," he growls hungrily, his fingers delving further inside you, curling to find the spot that drives you wild.

"Yes! Yes!" You gasp as quiet as you can, one hand supporting you on the sofa and the other digging your nails into his shoulder. Joel's thumb brushes over your clit in a daring response as his eyes gleam with excitement. "Oh you like that, darlin', don't you?"

"Joel you're gonna make me come.." you tell him, your voice dripping with desperation, the pleasure uncoiling in the pit of your stomach, waiting to be released.

His fingers move faster, generating more friction with your touch. "You gonna come for me right now, with your daddy in the next room?" His voice is taunting and seductive, a dare in and of itself.

"Yes.. yes.. yes!" you squeak out as you come hard around his fingers.

Joel whispers praises against your ear as your pussy grips his fingers, drenching them in your sweet juices. "That's it, darlin', give it to me.. just like that.. good girl," he whispers. "You're so damn beautiful when you come for me like that." His voice is low, husky, full of admiration, and his eyes are full of love and desire.

You whisper his name as you come down, enjoying the little aftershocks of pleasure.

Ray's voice booms out from above. "Hey, what's that noise down there?"

Joel curses under his breath, quickly removing his hand from your shorts, his body tensing as he listens out for Ray's next move.

"We're looking for the batteries, Daddy!" You call back upstairs, taking Joel's wet fingers and licking your juice off them.

Your dad grunts a reply upstairs.

"You little vixen," Joel grins, a lustful expression on his face as he watches you lick his fingers.

"But you like me this way."

"Oh I do. I like you like this way too much, but right now I have to put some space between us before you dad comes down or he's definitely gonna see somethin' he doesn't wanna see."

You pout but he's right. "Don't worry," he mutters, "we'll make up for lost time later. I promise." He goes to wash up quickly, wishing he could keep your scent on his hands.

Your legs are still shaking but you get some beers and soda from the fridge and help Joel set up. Your dad soon comes back down with fresh batteries. "I think we missed the first inning, but that's okay," he replaces the batteries and sits down next to you on the sofa, Joel on your other side. Joel's expression is schooled into neutral politeness as he cracks open a cold one and watches the game. You purposely keep your eyes off him, because honestly if he looks your way you're a goner. The TV generates a soft glow in the relative darkness of the living room.

Sipping your diet soda, you lean against your dad to get comfortable while he explains the rules, even though you've seen a thousand baseball games before. You smile and kiss his cheek as you rest your head on his shoulder, forever his little girl, until someone else comes to take you away. Joel uses his peripheral vision to watch you, comparing your affection for your father with the licentiousness Joel himself has brought out in you.

After feeling Joel's eyes burn a hole through you, you at last give him some attention. "Uncle Joel, who do you think's gonna win? The Rangers or the Red Sox?"

"I'm gonna say the Rangers, sugar. They got a lot of momentum this season, and their batting has been pretty impressive." He takes a sip of his beer, watching you with an appreciative gaze.

"I don't know.. their best pitcher is out for the rest of the season, and they can't hit for shit when they're playing away games." You stick your tongue out at him in a playful ,manner and all he can think of is where he wants that tongue later.

Joel grins at your sharp observation, impressed by your knowledge of the team. "Well damn, darlin'. Sounds like you know your baseball better than I do. I guess we'll just have to see who's right in the end, won't we?"

You chuckle, giving him a flirtatious look as you rise from your seat. "We'll see. Let me get y'all some more beer." You pick up his and your dad's empty beers and take them to the trash.

His eyes don't follow you but his mind is filled with you.. "Damn, she's somethin' else," he mutters.

"You say something?" Ray asks, eyes on the game.

Joel snaps to attention, his heart racing as he realizes he spoke out loud. "Oh, uh.. just sayin' how that third baseman has a hole in his fuckin' glove," he corrects himself.

"They shouldn't have traded for that guy from Detroit. Ridiculous move," Ray shakes his head.

Joel's relieved the conversation is smooth. "Yeah, definitely a tough trade. They really need a consistent lineup."

You return to the living room with ice cold beers. "Here you go, fellas."

Joel's fingers brush against yours a brief moment as you give him his drink. "Thanks, darlin'." His eyes lock with yours before he quickly turns his attention back to the game.

You sit between him and your dad again, pretending to be absorbed in the game. Every now and then your arms or thighs graze one another's. The tension is palpable until, in the semi-darkness of your living room, you place your hand on Joel's thigh, moving upwards to cup his crotch as you innocently turn to your dad to ask him about the game.

Joel clenches his jaw, keeping a vigilant watch on the TV, barely cognizant of the conversation you and your dad are having.

"What's that honey?" your dad asks. "Oh, it's an automatic double when the ball gets hit against the far wall," he explains.

"Hmm, I see.." you continue to caress Joel on the sly, just out of sight of your dad.

Joel shifts in his seat a bit, his face a study in nonchalance. "Yeah, hitting is all about precision and strategy," he chimes in.

"And the bat?" Your caress is bolder, palming his semi-erection while he can't do anything about it. "Does the bat have anything to do with it?"

Joel clears his throat gruffly, soothing the roughness you've created in his voice. "Oh, the bat is absolutely essential.. the right bat can make all the difference in the world.. especially when you've got the right swing." His eyes gleam with unspoken hunger as he holds your gaze, the double entendre obvious.

"Daddy, you played ball with Uncle Joel in high school.. what was his swing like?"

Ray glances up, a nostalgic smile on his face as he recalls the memory. "Oh, your Uncle Joel was a hell of a batter," he grins, shaking his head with admiration. "He had a natural talent for it, a natural sense of timing and coordination. He could knock the ball out of the park with one swing. His whole body would snap into it with this powerful, fluid motion, and you just knew it was gonna be a home run."

"Sounds like nothing's changed," you whisper to Joel, smirking as you watch him writhing under your touch. Taking it up a notch you unbutton his jeans dip your hand inside, finding him growing harder, cock poking through the hole in his boxers. His eyes flutter shut.

You brush your thumb over the tip of his cock and he swallows hard, his features taut with struggling to control himself. "You're toyin' with me, darlin', and you damn well know it," he whispers lightly to you. "Don't make me do somethin' I'll regret in front of your daddy."

"I'll call your bluff." With that, you stroke him faster, turning up the volume with the remote to cover your sounds. Joel's body jerks, his low growl turning into a stifled moan of pleasure. "Damn it, darlin', you're gonna make me lose it," he says through gritted teeth.

"You all right there, man?" Ray asks, eyes glued to the game.

Joel tries to maintain his composure, clearing his throat before answering your dad. "Yeah, I'm fine.. just a lot of excitement in the game," he adds with a strained laugh.

"Shit yeah. This guy scores, the Rangers win." Ray shakes his head and swigs his beer.

Joel takes the opportunity to look down at you, his eyes dark with warning. He shakes his head silently for you to stop teasing before he loses control, but you're having too much fun with this. A slight raise of your brow, your tongue wets your lips and you whisper, "Come for me."

His body tenses at your whispered command, and he does his best to restrain the deep, guttural moan that tries to escape his lips. His hips jerk once against your touch as he spills his release inside his jeans. Luckily, Joel's groans are covered by your dad's shouts of victory as his favorite team wins. Ray leaps from the couch, oblivious to the both of you.

Meanwhile Joel's body is still vibrating with the intensity of his orgasm. He closes his eyes, trying to gather his wits and collect himself before anyone can notice the dampness in his jeans. When he opens his eyes again his gaze lands on you and his stare reads sultry. "You're gonna pay for that, darlin'."

You're shocked at yourself, at what you've caused, but the surge of power is delicious. You remove your hand from his pants and, eyes on him, lick up his cum from your palm. Joel's breath catches in his throat at your bold and suggestive move. He growls softly under his breath, his eyes glued to yours as he silently communicates just how much trouble you're in with him.

"I'm gonna go out and get some more beer," your dad announces, collecting his wallet and keys. "Joel, you okay here? I'm just goin' around the corner."

Joel's in no position to get up without it being evident that's he's come in his pants. "I'm good here," he says mildly, forcing a smile.

"I'll take good care of Uncle Joel," you tell your dad, your smile holding the tiniest bit of mischief. You share a glance with Joel, who for a millisecond looks like he would fuck you on the couch the instant your dad leaves.

"It's no problem, Ray," he assures your dad. "Y'know you can trust me."

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[pfannkuchendammerung]

Finally got the horn replaced in my car today. The new horn is somewhat higher pitched than the original one. It's going to take some time to get used to it, but at least I have a horn again (since everyone seems intent on trying to sideswipe me on the freeway).

[ms-demeanor]

Three weeks ago:

New Guy: Hey I need pricing for a battery and RAM for this customer's laptop.

Me: Sure, ninety dollars total.

New Guy: (read)

New Guy (next day): Did you get me that quote I asked for?

Me, putting the pricing on a quote: Uh, sure, here, ninety dollars total.

Me, to New Guy two days later: Hey did you get a response to that quote? That's for that company's CEO, he wants his laptop back.

Me, the day after that, to myself: That guy isn't going to balk at a hundred dollars for parts, fuck it i'm ordering I can return them if he says no but it's going to take like three days for the battery to get here.

Me, to New Guy the day after that: Hey, did you get approval from the customer to buy those parts? I placed the order but if he doesn't want them I need to know.

Customer, in an email to my boss: Hey why is New Guy telling me that I need to sign a quote? I talked to New Guy and he was prompt and understanding and I approved the parts in the shop that day.

My Boss: You didn't order the parts?

Me: I actually DID order the parts because I figured he'd want his laptop back, but not until yesterday because I didn't know that he'd approved the price.

My Boss: You didn't tell Alli that he approved the price?

New Guy: Well you said we needed to send them a quote.

Me: Did you send them the quote that I put together for you?

New Guy: Well no, because they'd already approved the price.

My Boss: And you didn't tell Alli?

New Guy: I said he wanted his laptop fixed so we needed a price.

Me and My Boss: Great.

*one week later, new guy will be perusing career advancements elsewhere*

Customer, in an email to my boss: I'm sorry to hear that New Guy has moved on, he was wonderful to work with and it can be hard to cope with turnover in an organization. That being said, Alli may be a quality person for you to work with, but is not a person we want to work with, please don't have her handle anything to do with our account.

My Boss: What did you do that they're so mad about?

Me: Literally the only things I've worked with them on in the last four months are two quotes that you requested and sent that they have no idea I worked on, the hardware from New Guy, and a replacement UPS battery that got installed on site on Friday, which we had a bit of a back-and-forth on because the CEO approved the quote with a thumbs-up emoji and we weren't sure if that meant "I understood the explanation of why this battery needs to be replaced and I will think about it" or "I understood the explanation of why this battery needs to be replaced and I would like you to place the order" but we went ahead with the order because I knew they were already pissed about the hesitancy from New Guy.

[bbystark]

hi beautiful and wonderful writer, I requested the part 2 of Simon being a bad stalker and I need moreee

It is so gooodddd

♡ badstalker!simon extras ♡

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: just more of what simon would do to make your life easier while he was simultaneously being a lil freak stalker. mdni

a/n: thank you sm for requesting pt 2 and more anon ily!!! i bet you guys thought i up and left again, surprise, i am no longer depressed and am manic and full of inspo. enjoy xoxoxo

simon was constantly around, lurking in shadows. and when he couldn't be near you physically, he was watching you through the cameras, stalking socials, you name it

he didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he felt guilty when he was deployed or was otherwise taken away from you.

that's really where the (strange) acts of service started, he was trying to ease his guilt of not being there to protect you by doubling down with his affections when he could

it started with things you would never know about, trailing you home to make sure you got back safely, watching your house as often as he could to make sure no one broke in, one time cleaning up after your cat broke a glass while you were gone. "bad cat arn't ya" he had mumbled, "gonna giv your mum a heart attack one of these days when I ain't around."

then he was leaving you umbrellas when he had watched you forget one in the morning as you left for work. linking prepaid cards to some of your random bills, smiling to himself as he watched you discover you "magically" had a few extra dollars left over at the end of the month and bought yourself something special.

hated seeing you sad, thought you deserved nothing but pure happiness 24/7. called and complained to corporate about a fellow employee you were having issues with, making up some lie to get them in trouble all to prevent you from dealing with the stress of workplace drama

he can think of dozens upon dozens of times he silently showed his devotion to you. it always left him with a whole feeling, like he was finally doing something right.

he didn't realize it, but being silent and distant stopped being enough for him when he was sitting in his bunk one night, drowning out soap's god-awful snores with your voice drifting through his cheap earbuds.

you were on call with a friend, and simon couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when you giggled at something dumb your friend had said.

"i'm serious! this has to be my year or something, i'm having the best luck ever and i have no idea why."

he went a little rigid at that, feeling the overwhelming need for you to know it was him making your life so good, not some mysterious force of the universe.

it got worse after that

he'd watch you sleep, adjusting you when your neck was in an uncomfortable position, (bad time to be a heavy sleeper), shooing your cat away from bothering you, re-cover you when you'd seek out the blankets you had kicked off 10 seconds prior.

started hanging out in your house a lot, desperate to be as close as you as possible. military training would kick in as he would silently organize forgotten corners of your house, cleaning spaces you wouldn't have bothered with because you never see them

even replaces the batteries in the smoke alarm when he realizes there were none, knowing you had probably taken them out to make it stop chirping and forgotten to replace them. hides a carbon dioxide alarm too, just in case

he was feeling particularly desperate one day and took a shower, lathering himself in your scented body wash while working his fist up and down his swollen cock, imagining you were with him. you were mortified when you return home to see drops of water still dripping from the walls of your shower.

he flies too close to the sun, getting sloppy. you're suddenly more on edge, casting more glances over your shoulder. he stops making as many visits to your house when you start seeing a therapist.

that doesn't stop him from reaching out in other ways though, leaving notes, calling you, sending texts and random gifts.

this time his advances scare you a little less, and intrigue you more than they should.

he almost wishes he had been more careful. almost. he can't deny the thrill that goes through him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he isn't deluded, and this could actually work.

he'd just have to wait and see.

besides, he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to leave you alone whether you wanted him to or not. and that is something he could promise.

[tvseries-writings]

Fight for us

Maya x Carina x reader

PLOT: A big fire makes the reader worry more about other people than about herself and her pacemaker is not very happy about it, as are her girlfriends.

TW: heart failure, pacemaker

You didn't think the week could get any worse than it was already going then, all of a sudden, you had received a call from Teddy Altman, your cardiologist, alerting you to the fact that it was time to change the batteries in your pacemaker and that the latter was exhibiting some malfunctions that she definitely wanted to check. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders with the intent to shrug off that phone call before sipping your second cup of coffee. And to think that today is your day off and you are already stressed.

“Bambina, that's decaf right?”

Carina walks up to you and kisses you on the lips, biting your lip and looking at you with a look you know very well.

“No, I would definitely say it's not. You know it's not good for you y/n and besides, move that phone; it needs to be at least six inches from the pacemaker.” You sigh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, but before Carina can scold you again, both yours and her phone ring. That's never a good sign, never.

“Dr. DeLuca”

“Pamedic Y/n”

And if the week had already seemed like crap to you, the words coming out of your boss's mouth only dangerously dash all your hopes for improvement. You and Carina end the call at the same time and then, after a moment of silence, finally finding the courage to speak.

“There's a fire in Fall City’s forest, I've been asked about-”

“Me too,” you say, looking at your girlfriend and voicing the same thought that is haunting both of you.

“Have they called Station 19 yet?”

“I don't know Bella but since they've called all the available workers I think so.”

You exchange a worried look before you decide to pull Carina into a hug.

“She will be fine love, Maya is a fighter and will always come back to us. Let's go save some lives now.”

........................................................…………………..

You are treating a patient's burns when you see Maya enter the tent where both you and Carina are treating patients. You finish bandaging Kelly, the girl in front of you, before quickly running into Maya's arms.

“Woah, hey, I didn't know they called you guys too.” Maya returns the hug, and although your girlfriend smells like soot, you bask in her scent before pulling away when you hear Carina join you.

You hear them talking but you don't really listen to what they're saying; you're tired, your body is telling you to take a break, and your heart, despite the pacemaker, is really acting up at the moment.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You realize you're rubbing your hand right over the pacemaker only when Carina stops you by locking your wrist.

“Hey, are you-”

Maya is stopped by a sweaty Warren who comes running into the tent.

“Bishop, we need you. The captain wants you with her.”

Maya gives you a look and then an apologetic smile before hurrying off but not without first giving Carina a look that was definitely not aimed at the Italian.

The two of you watch the blonde leave and just as Carina turns to you to speak, a dozen patients are rushed inside and the Italian is forced to put off questions until later.

You turn to Vic and Travis and run toward them.

“Thirty-nine-year-old female, under cardiac arrest two minutes. Performed two rounds of compressions on scene with no results.”

You nod, quickly slipping on another pair of gloves before replacing Vic, performing a new cycle of compressions yourself as Travis connects the patient to the monitors.

“Vic, get the defibrillator ready.”

You shouldn't exert yourself, you know you shouldn't with the pacemaker discharged, but you really have no choice when you have to choose between your life and a patient's. You swore it to yourself when you took this job.

“It's ready.”

Victoria says and you take the pads from her hands. If Carina saw you using it yourself, she would probably kick your ass and a good lecture in Italian; fortunately, she is very busy at the moment. Travis places the electrodes on the patient's body and then, after a glance, places the paddles on her chest.

“Clear!”

You feel the electricity leave the paddles and see the woman's body lying in front of you jerk before falling back onto the gurney. You will never get used to this feeling.

“There's a pulse, call heli-rescue and keep her monitored until it arrives.”

You say entrusting it to the only two free people in front of you who weren't strictly necessary in there, two residents.

You take off your gloves and throw them in the nearest trash can, quickly procuring another pair before moving on to the next patient then, like a bolt out of the blue, you notice Teddy Altman enter the tent and if your day was already sucking, it now gets drastically worse.

The faint hope that Teddy has not come exclusively for you quickly vanishes when the blonde doctor catches up with you with a look that is anything but friendly.

“Heyy Teddy, what's the best heart surgeon in Seattle doing here? Were you so bored at home that you wanted to help us out?”

You smile, cheekily, before turning to a new patient but before you can even ask her what's wrong, besides the obvious second-degree burn on her shoulder, the cardiac surgeon grabs your arm and drags you away, far enough away from prying ears.

“What the hell are you doing here? A woman came into the hospital and said there was a beautiful paramedic who saved her life and pulled her out of her panic attack by talking about her beautiful girls: an Italian doctor and a blond firefighter.”

You mentally curse yourself for being so specific, dammit. You would have saved yourself at firefighter or doctor, damn it, did you have to be so specific?

You open your mouth to speak, looking for any excuse in the meantime, but before you can formulate one, Teddy starts talking again.

“No no, y/n, don't even try. I had made it clear, no efforts until the checkup and then I find you literally on the biggest fire in years performing CPR?!”

The blonde tries to keep a normal tone even though, from the look on her face, she probably wants to strangle you with her own hands.

“Teddy, look, I know we're friends and you're my cardiologist but you have to understand that I'm also doing my job here. I'm a paramedic and I have to take care of other people's health.”

“I understand that y/n but you won't save anyone when your heart collapses and it will if you don't get checked right away. I came here just for you, I had to ask Bailey's permission and don't think Miranda will let you get away with this recklessness of yours.”

You sigh, moving a lock of hair from your face and thinking about the long lecture Miranda Bailey, who is like a mother to you, will give you as soon as your slender body ends up in front of her judgmental eyes. You're screwed.

“Oh come on Teddy, couldn't you have said some shit to her? Besides, aren't you bound by attorney-client privilege?”

“Well, sure. Or at least we are until the patient turns out to be a danger to himself and-”

The cardiac surgeon's tone of voice rises to such an extent that the speech you are giving is heard by people who should not have heard a single word, such as your very protective Italian girlfriend.

“Hey, Bella is everything okay here? Teddy, hi, did they call you too?”

Carina girds your hips protectively and you lean a little into her grip; the fatigue was already starting to set in before Teddy's visit and now it's only getting worse.

“No, they didn't call me too but I'm here for a patient of mine.”

The Italian observes the look the blonde gives you and it doesn't take her long to realize that you are the patient.

“Y/n, why did Teddy come here for you? Is something wrong with the pacemaker?”

You want to talk, really, tell the truth and face her stern look and a long, long lecture about how you don't take care of yourself but all your attention is diverted to a firefighter, you don't recognize him since he's not from Station 19, who runs inside the tent and talks loudly to Chief Ross.

“Chief, Bishop and Herrera are stuck in a circle of fire and we can't get the flames under control.”

Although there is no shortage of noise in the tent, both you and Carina hear those words perfectly and in less than a second run toward the two.

“What the hell do you mean Maya is stuck? Why hasn't she been pulled out already!”

Carina screams, Italian slipping off her tongue as she does every time she is gripped by a strong emotion, and you know that fear is the strongest and most destabilizing of all, along with love.

Your heart beats in your chest so loudly that you think it might as well pull off the pacemaker, the sounds resulting muffled as you cling to Carina's side to try to calm both her and your crazed heart.

“Apparently Lieutenant Bishop found herself trapped in a circle of fire while she and Herrera were trying to rescue a civilian. We managed to get Herrera out but it was too late for Bishop...now we are trying to transport as much water as we can but they are in a spot we can't reach with trucks and-”

“Damn it, get Bishop out of there at the cost of filling buckets and climbing that damn mountain. Is that clear?”

Chief Ross yells and the fireman jerks before nodding and hastily exiting. Then, the woman turns to the two of you.

“I know it's hard but I promise you we will get Maya out of there; she's a fighter, she'll be fine, I've never met a woman as tenacious as she is.”

The thought of not being able to see Maya again makes your heart even heavier than it already was; you and Carina hug each other tightly, the Italian drops a few tears, and you kiss her head repeatedly, the same way Maya does, caressing her back and suppressing the sharp pain in your chest you are feeling.

“Car..what if last night was the last time we saw her? I can't lose her, not Maya, not today, I can't, I can't,” you sob, the weight of what's happening is too much to keep inside and even though you know you should console Carina, the anguish you're feeling won't let you.

“It will be all right, she will be all right, I must be...” Carina wipes away her tears and then looks up at you, “I am pregnant Bella, it worked.”

And for a moment, for just a moment, you forget where you are and Maya's condition, for just a moment you think only of you, her and Maya holding a beautiful baby and you kiss her. You kiss her deeply and with such passion that if you were not in that situation you would already be on the bed. When you pull away, you run a hand over her stomach and gently caress it with a smile on your face.

“Hey little bean, we love you so much already, you don't know how long we've been waiting for you.”

Carina rests her hand on top of yours and her head on your chest. The adrenaline rush that the news caused you fades and the dull but constant pain in your chest returns like a bolt of lightning as does the fear for the life of the other woman in your life, the other mother of your child.

Teddy, who has been standing on the sidelines up to that point, approaches the two of you and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“I'm sure Firefighter Barbie is fine, she's strong and wants to get back to her girls.”

“Thank you Teddy.”

And then, you hear Carina realize again what you were talking about before you were interrupted.

You sigh and close your eyes for a few moments; Carina turns away from you, and when you open them again, you see her looking at you with the same look you've been dreading ever since you got the call.

“I hope you didn't come here knowing you had problems with your pacemaker.”

Your silence is worth more than confirmation for the Italian.

“O MIO DIO, I can't believe it y/n, you're so stubborn and an idiot I ahh non so cosa fare con voi due, sei mille volte peggio di Maya dannazione.”

You don't understand a single word she said but considering the fact that she is gesticulating…well, you are definitely in trouble.

Fortunately, however, even the wrath of an Italian vanishes when your girlfriend's colleague runs up to you and waves you to follow him and that's exactly what you do, temporarily forgetting what you were discussing.

“Jack, is Maya okay?” Carina says and when the firefighter does not turn to look at you, you fear for the worst: “Gibson, is Maya okay? Is she alive? Is she hurt? Damn it Jack! Answer me!” You yell, shoving the fireman until he turns toward you. His gaze gives nothing away and you are literally about to grab him by the throat but then a familiar face appears in your field of vision.

“Hey, I'm sorry to have worried you. I'm okay, I'm fine, I feared for the worst but the guys managed to pull both Andy and me out of there.”

Maya has an oxygen mask on her face and a blanket around her shoulders but except for that, she seems fine and you think you can squeal from relief. You pounce on her and stuff her face with kisses before letting Carina do the same.

“If you worry us like this again, I'll kill you myself, is that clear?”

“Crystal doc” Maya smiles, leaning over to kiss her before kissing you too.

“Fuck you Gibson” you huff, giving him a shove and he smiles, raising his hands as if to defend himself, “hey, I just wanted you to see it for yourself.”

The fireman walks away and leaves you alone; you rest your forehead on the Italian's back while she and Maya discuss what happened and how Andy is doing. You don't really listen to them; the pain in your chest with Jack's little joke has only gotten worse, and your breath shortens as tiny drops of sweat wet your back.

You have experienced this feeling before, when you had your first heart attack more than four years ago. You feel the pulse in your ears, you cannot even tell whether it is high or extremely low; despite your medical knowledge, you are not clear-headed enough at the moment to tell. You gradually lean more and more against the Italian so much that you almost risk dropping her.

“Car, call...call Teddy. Pacemaker” you whisper and then, everything goes dark as you fall to the ground with a thud.

Carina and Maya freeze for a few seconds before springing into action.

“Hey! We need help, help us!” Carina shouts, turning you over on your stomach and checking your heart rate.

“Maya, I'm going to get Teddy don't move from here, check her pulse and don't you dare take off that oxygen mask.”

The firefighter does not even have time to react that the doctor is already running away.

“Come on love, come on, stay with us.”

Maya massages your chest, checking your pulse and trying at the same time to stimulate your pacemaker. Carina returns in less than a minute, falling on her knees next to your body lying on the floor, followed by Vic, Travis and Teddy.

“Maya, give me her heart rate.”

“32 bpm.”

“Damn, her pacemaker stopped working, it's set on 50 bpm. We need to take her to the hospital and change the batteries or the pacemaker if necessary.”

“The fire has blocked the roads, we can only go to Eli-rescue but it left a while ago and will never be back in less than 40 minutes.” Travis says, looking at the doctor.

“You don't have forty minutes, you don't even have ten minutes.”

Teddy shakes his head, rubbing his forehead as he constantly checks your pulse on the monitor Victoria has diligently hooked you up to. Carina takes an oxygen tank and connects it to a mask that she places on your face, stroking your hair and leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“It will be okay Bella, we are here with you, you have to fight for us. Please.”

The Italian doctor's voice cracks and Maya promptly takes her into her arms, also stroking your hair.

“I have an idea but it is dangerous and I don't know if it will work .”

Maya and Carina cast a glance at each other and then nod.

“Do what you have to but bring her back to us, please.”

Teddy pulls out his stethoscope, auscultating your pulse.

“Montgomery, get the defibrillator.”

Carina and Maya stiffen and look at the monitor. Your heart is not beating above 30 bpm and your blood pressure is dangerously low and falling.

“Teddy, what do you want to do.”

Carina's voice trembles as her hand falls instinctively on your stomach; Maya notices but at the moment is more concerned about you than intrigued by her wife's gesture.

“With a jolt the pacemaker should restart and keep her alive until the hospital or at least I hope so, I only did it one other time in Afghanistan.”

“Did the patient survive?”

Teddy pauses, remaining silent for a few seconds as he applies the electrodes to your chest. Then, after a deep sigh, he turns to the two women kneeling over your dying body.

“No, it was too late for him.”

Carina runs a hand through her hair and then, grabs the blond fireman's hand.

“Maya, I need to tell you something I-”

“Clear!”

The Italian freezes, as does Maya's heart as they watch your body jerk and the terrifying flat line noise that is emitted from the monitor immediately after.

“Come on Bella, please.”

Maya removes her mask and leans over your forehead, leaving a kiss on your temple.

“Come on love, you can do it. Come back to us.”

Your heart starts beating again after one round of compressions from Teddy, and Maya and Carina burst into tears from relief praying that helicopter rescue will arrive in time.

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

More than six hours pass before your eyes open and an annoying but familiar pain in your chest, just above the pacemaker, lets you know that you are still in the world of the living. Your hand reaches for the mask on your face but before you can pull it off, a hand stops you.

“Hey, no, you have to keep it on a little longer Bella.”

Carina leaves a kiss on your forehead, turning a small smile to you and intertwining your fingers.

“Welcome back love” Maya smiles at you. She still has her oxygen mask on and at the sight, your stomach knots.

“Are you okay? What are your oxygen levels?”

You sit up and reach toward the fireman; your gaze is so concerned that Maya strokes your cheek and grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I'm fine my love, I'm sorry for worrying the two women of my life, or three ,” the blonde's smile increases as she rests her hand on the Italian's stomach and your worried look is quickly replaced by a smile. “We're going to be moms.”

“The best ones.”

“Yes, although two of these three moms should learn to take better care of themselves. Did you understand y/n? It was stupid to ignore the device that helps your heart beat idiot”

“Yes, it was totally irresponsible of you” Maya nods, agreeing with Carina, before patting your leg lightly.

“Don't ever try something like that again, you are too important to us.”

Carina whispers and you notice she is holding back tears so you reach out and push her toward you, dropping her sitting on your lap.

“Oh and don't think this is the end of it, Bailey can't wait to give you a good talking to.”

“Shit, I'm screwed.”

“Yeah but not by us. No sex for two months after what you did.”

You pout and then playfully shove Maya while Carina taps her hand on her forehead shaking her head with a smile on her face.

You do believe you will be good mothers after all.

Thank you for reading! It's not my best work but lately I feel like everything I write sucks so...well, thanks anyway and have a great day!

Buy me a coffee on ko-fi

Taglist: @wandanatsbaby @bioquake-archives @bioquakeweek @daisyjohnsonx @wandanatsgirlfriend @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx @maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri @scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1 @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403 @goldfishthegr8 @wandanatfan @looiegirl-blog @bioquake-blog @daisyjohnsonx

[rogueddie]

Steve loves giving people things.

It's one of the rare things he misses about Tommy and Carol- even when he'd just give them the food he didn't want, they'd light up and look so pleased. They were encouraging too- probably just because they wanted things from him, he knows that, but it still makes him feel all warm and happy just remembering it.

No one lets him give them stuff anymore.

Jonathon had accepted the replacement camera reluctantly and when Steve tried to give him other things for said camera, he got a door slammed in his face.

Nancy, drunk and repeatedly calling him 'bullshit', slips in a little dig at how Steve needs to buy peoples love.

Not even Dustin accepts anything from him. The only thing Steve could really offer him is a new walkie, or batteries, or food- but Dustin already has those things and dismisses any attempts Steve makes to learn what else he could get him. Jokes that he doesn't need to be bought.

By the time they save Eddie, turn the narrative on it's head and save the day- he's back on his parents payroll. Something about him being a hero in the newspapers (at Eddies insistence). Something about him being a good influence on the Harrington name. Something about him deserving some sort of reward.

That doesn't matter though, itt means he can start giving people actual gifts again!

But, he quickly bursts his own bubble. Because no one he knows wants any gifts from him. No one seems to understand. It makes him, for the first time in a long time, miss Tommy and Carol again.

He gets Eddie a new guitar though. It's not cheap, but he can afford it and... well, Eddies old one got destroyed in the Upside Down. It's the perfect excuse, right? It'd be like Jonathons camera- even if he's reluctant, he'll still accept it.

But it's not like Jonathon at all. Eddie is thrilled before he even opens the box, thrilled that Steve got him something. When he does open it and finds a new guitar, he screams (and scares his uncle, but even he seems to be understanding when he sees the guitar).

Eddie wants gifts. He jokes about it but, when Steve points out that he will if Eddie lets him, he looks genuinely excited at the idea. Tries to tell Steve that he doesn't have to, but he looks reluctant when he says that. Looks more upset that Steve might think he's greedy or using him.

So Steve starts getting him things. Usually just... little things. At first, it was a perfect excuse to start spending time with him, to become better friends.

He isn't sure when it started to mean something else. He isn't sure when he started to swap out little things he thinks will make Eddie laugh for... romantic things. For roses and chocolate. For things that will flatter Eddie and make him blush, make him pull some of his hair in front of his mouth and give Steve looks that can only be described as 'demure'.

It's when Steve gets him a little skull ring he'd seen in passing, something he'd seen and immediately thought of Eddie, that he finally gets the response he'd started secretly hoping for.

"How about... instead of a thing... next time, we go out?" Eddie shifts, hesitant. "Like... see a movie, get dinner?"

Steve had to bite his lip, trying to make his grin a little less goofy. "Yeah. You, uh... mean, like, a date, right?"

"Do you want it to be like a, uh, date?"

Steve can't quite get himself to say it, nodding instead.

Eddie gives him a little smile, looks painfully understanding. "A date then. I'm free this Saturday? I hear there's something cute and family friendly in cinemas that we could watch."

"Yeah, ok, Saturday. Um... you wanna get some food too?"

"Food sounds good. Dinner and a movie, very romantic. Pick me up at 6?"

"Yeah. Yeah, ok, 6. It's a date."

[oozedninjas]

Blame the Chemicals in the Mind

Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.

A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)

Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat

This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.

His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 

Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.

He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.

Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.

Such an exquisite test subject!

So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?

I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.

You seem unwell today.

His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."

You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.

Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.

The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.

As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.

An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 

Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.

"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.

"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."

Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.

"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.

The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.

"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”

Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.

“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”

You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.

"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.

You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 

You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.

“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.

The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.

“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.

Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”

***

The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 

He’s good. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you.

It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 

He doesn’t care if you cry.

He keeps you warm.

Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-

"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"

You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.

"Yes," you gasped.

***

You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.

The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.

He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.

He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 

“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.

You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”

“No, just here,” he muttered.

Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.

Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 

Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 

“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 

In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.

"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 

The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 

He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 

"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 

Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 

"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 

"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"

His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 

You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 

Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 

"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.

Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”

“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.

He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 

“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 

Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 

His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 

The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.

He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 

"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."

[lovelytsunoda]

god knows I’ve tried // yuki tsunoda

summary: stranded at her publishers office after the battery in her car dies, there’s only one person she wants to call for a jumpstart.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x lawson!reader

warnings: self-deprecating humor, y/n is very self critical, yuki is her night in shining armour, total lack of christmas spirit, anxiety.

author's note: this resonates so personally with me and i feel so fricking attached to this story and all the people in it. please treat it kindly :)

so go on judge me by my cover, and no I’ll never have another. baby I’ve been bad, but god knows I’ve tried to be good

it's too early for damn christmas lights, she huffed to herself as she left the office, juggling the volkswagen keys that dangled from her fingertips with the large cardboard box between her arms, staring at the lights and tinsel hung up on the light poles. cursing to herself and trying not to drop anything, she fumbled for the unlock button, ready to ditch the box in her trunk.

her volkswagen golf stood solitary and alone in the parking lot, no other cars for miles. if liam was here, he'd be asking where her pepper spray was, god forbid anything happen to his baby sister.

there was only a year between them, but sometimes she swore that liam acted as if there were five.

the cold dug into her skin as she hobbled through the parking lot, trying to keep her head on a swivel as she once again asked herself why she had parked so far away from any other car. she fumbled with the trunk button (which was unresponsive a lot more than it actually opened the trunk), unceremoniously dumping the box so hard that the small red car started to shake.

she slammed the trunk shut, frowning as she ran a fingertip over the small spot of rust that had begun to form where the silver letters proclaimed to the world what kind of car she drove met the painted trunk door.

she opened the car door, slipping into the driver's seat and staring at the overhead door lights, which had not illuminated as they were intended to when the door opens.

"motherfucker." she mumbled. "i'm gonna have to replace the latch, aren't i?" this was not new. she'd had multiple issues with the car, buying it from a dealership that advertised mostly on facebook.

never again, the next car she buys will be certified pre-owned from a volkswagen dealer, not a used car lot.

the latch would need replacing eventually: it had already locked up the door and prevented her from opening her car, even after smashing the unlock button on her keys five times. she rolled her eyes, closing the door and sliding the key into the ignition.

the key turned, but the car didn't start. growing increasingly panicked, she turned the key a few more times, the same ministrations that normally started up the ten year old car.

"fuck!" she howled, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel as the engine refused to turn over again. she reached for the headlight button, feeling her stomach drop to the floor when there was no response from the headlights.

the engine battery was dead.

she was stranded, alone, in a dark parking lot at night.

it didn't get more fucked than that.

she reached for her phone, the screen providing the only light source as she fumbled for the lock button, and making sure her finger hovered steadily over the panic alarm on her keys. just in case.

who was she going to call, she wondered, scrolling through her contacts. definitely not liam, she couldn't trouble him like that. remind him that she'd always need protecting. she could call her best friend, but the likelihood that margot would know what to do was slim. besides, she was probably out with her boyfriend if she wasn't at work.

her finger hovered over a name, and she debated long and hard if it was worth it, if she was really desperate enough to ask him for help. would he come? would he consider it strange that his best friend's baby sister was calling in the middle of the night because she was dumb enough to drain her car battery?

right now, it didn't look like she really had a choice. unless she wanted to call a tow truck and be out a couple hundred bucks.

"hello?"

"yuki, it's y/n. i need your help."

when the headlights of yuki's honda civic type r lit up the parking lot, she could have cried from relief. the dead battery also meant no heat, and she was chilled to the bone, teeth chattering together as she clutched her phone in one hand and her keys in the other.

"thank god you're here!" she blurted, scrambling out of the car as yuki pulled into the parking space on her passenger side. "i didn't know who else to call!"

ah, yes. yuki tusnoda. backlit by his headlights, he looked like a guardian angel. he'd been close with the lawsons since he came to england, being practically adopted when he moved in with liam at milton keynes, like some fucked up version of a college roommate scheme.

not to mention that he was funny, hot as hell, and she never knew if his cheerful, gentle ribbing meant he looked at her as more than a friend. every time he gifted her a casserole dish of something he had cooked, or invited her out when he and liam went somewhere, she couldn't help but think that maybe he liked her the way that she liked him.

in a way that was anything but just friendly.

"didn't you just get something fixed on your car?" yuki frowned popping his car hood open and digging around in his glove box for the jumper cables.

"i changed a headlight last week. the last major thing was the driveshaft, i couldn't fix that myself, had to take it in." she frowned, lifting up the hood of her own car, using her phone light to find the battery cover. "the car is a piece of shit, but at least it's reliable. and the driveshaft was covered by the dealership since it should have been on the safety certification and wasn't."

yuki frowned, untangling the cables before he dropped them to the pavement, peeling off his puffer jacket. "your lips are blue. take my jacket. i doubt liam would like it if let his little sister get hypothermia"

"pneumonia."

"same difference."

"not really." she laughed, pulling yuki's jacket over her own thin flannel trench coat. she hated wearing a thick winter coat when she drove, relying almost entirely on her car's heated seats to keep warm without suffocating.

"if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i should hope that you'd be the one to take care of me. you know, since it was your own fault." yuki chuckled, hooking up the cables as y/n tried to keep warm

"fuck you. i could have stayed in the car."

"the car doesn't have heat either."

oh. yeah. she forgot about that one.

"well, i could have stayed in your fancy ass sports car." it didn't matter how she phrased it, she was just trying to butter him up. on a normal day, she made fun of him for driving a honda civic, calling it a 'mom-mobile'.

with the jumper cables fully connected, they both settled into the honda to wait it out. usually, the rule of thumb was fifteen minutes, but she wasn;t sure that she could stand to be in a car with yuki for that long without doing something reckless.

she slipped out of his jacket, moving to pass it to him before he gestured vaguely to the backseat. the heated seats were on, but she could still see the puffs of air leaving her body as she breathed heavily.

"thanks for coming. i didn't know who to call."

yuki turned to look at her, turning down the volume on the radio. it was a shame, too. she was quite enjoying 'teenage dirtbag'. "why didn't you call liam?"

"pride, i think. he's always been the favourite, the one that stuck with it, the one that made something of himself. i don't need to admit to him that i need help, that i don't know things. because i do, it just sometimes takes me a little longer to get it, or i give up too quickly."

yuki frowned. "liam worries about you, you know. he doesn't like seeing you upset. and he's always been proud of you, so have your parents."

she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "it's just always been more upfront with liam. they keep telling me that i give up on things too quickly. you know, i realized the other day that i don't really have any hobbies any more. outside of paint nights with the girls, i don't paint anymore. i don't do any sports. reading is really all i do any more."

"that doesn't define your worth, you know. you've got other things going on right now that are taking up your time." yuki encouraged, fiddling with the heating dial. "hey, speaking of which, what are you doing here so late at night?"

she groaned, tilting her head back. "god, this is embarrassing." she hid her head in her hands before turning back to yuki. "promise not to laugh too hard?"

"why would i laugh at you?"

"i was picking up advance copies of my first book." she turned and looked out the window, at the empty parking lot illuminated solely by yuki's headlights. "i've spent the better part of the last two years working on it, and i'm scared i'm going to fail at it like i failed at everything else."

she felt a warm hand overtop of hers. "that's incredible. that's such a major accomplishment, y/n. why are you doubting yourself? you've made it this far."

she smiled, turning to face him. "yeah, but how many people want to read about a detective in small-town new zealand who lives in a haunted house?"

yuki raised an eyebrow. "you already have my interest."

and what great author could resist going on and on about their latest endeavor?

"okay, so it's about this detective in new zealand, she's just moved to this small town as part of a so-called promotion, but really she was desperate and only took the job because she wanted out of the city, a nice change of scenery and whatever. but after she moves in, she finds out the house is haunted and the ghosts actually end up helping her solve her first big case."

she left out the part about how there were three ghosts: one was a dead rockstar, one was a nineteen-thirties midwife and the other was a dead nun. the witty banter between the group of them was a joy to write.

"she also has a crush on this guy who lives across the street. he's an autobody mechanic, with a collection of classic cars."

who totally wasn't inspired by yuki and his gorgeous brown eyes or luscious black hair. well, her one argument was that book guy was about a foot taller than yuki was.

"hell yeah, i'd read that." yuki laughed. "or i'd watch the movie, depending on how long the book was."

y/n laughed, and it felt good. it felt like it had bene forever since she laughed. "it's a cozy mystery series, so it's supposed to make you laugh, be predictable. i took notes from agatha christie, the best of the best. i just hope that the general consumer market also sees it that way."

"i'm sure you'll do fine. as long as it's not like, five hundred pages long, i can't see why anybody wouldn't want to read it."

catching y/n's eye, yuki snickered. "it's not that long, is it?"

"no, it's just under three hundred. they made me cut the sex scenes out."

she watched yuki's eyes go wide, before she burst out laughing as well.

"i'm kidding!" she giggled. "i'm kidding, there aren't any sex scenes in cozy mysteries."

despite how warm the car was, a shiver went down yukis spine at the thought that the innocent, angelic young woman sitting next him, separated only only by the center console, had written numerous sex scenes.

“would you read it? now that you know how many pages it has?”

“yes.” yuki insisted. “of course I would. Liam’s shown me some of your novellas. you are such a good writer. a real talent.”

she yawned, leaning back against the leather seat with a yawn and a shake of her head. “if this book crashes and burns, I’ll remind you you said that. hey, would you be willing to give me a starred review to print on the back cover?”

yuki hummed for a minute, looking up at the sunroof and then back at the girl sitting next to him. “hmm, great mystery, lovely author, not enough sex and could use more descriptions of food.” he joked, playfully gripping her shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. you think you’re so funny.” she laughed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “but I’m glad that you’re here. you make much better company than my brother does.”

yukis hand dropped to her thigh, thumb gently rubbing along her jeans. “always. any time you need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”

yeah, bust she wished he was closer than even that. and if she kept staring into his dark ocean eyes, she feared she’d do something she’d regret. something impulsive and reckless and foolish but god damn would it have felt fucking good.

“y/n, you good? you’re kind of staring into space there.” yuki frowned, waving a nimble hand in front of her face, trying to capture her attention.

she chuckled. “not space, just the dashboard lights.”

“isn’t that a meat loaf song?”

she laughed, the sound coming from so deep in her chest as she turned to look at yuki. really, it shouldn’t have been that funny. all she knew was that she really, really wanted to kiss him.

she didn’t wait, lunging across the center console, hands shaking nervously as she rested them on either side of his face, pressing her chapped lips to his.

she had to hold herself back from moaning as yuki kissed her back, his warm hand caressing her sides under her open trench coat.

his touch was soft, safe, and comforting. but it was also electric, and left her wanting more when he finally pulled away for air.

“your car is probably charged”. he said nervously, blushing pink as he wiped away the saliva from his mouth. “I’d hate to kiss and run, but you probably want to get home.”

she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly as he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “at least take me out to dinner before you kiss me and leave me hanging.”

“it’s a little late for dinner, but how does a late night caramel sundae sound?” he suggested weakly, shrugging his shoulders. mcdonalds was hardly first date material, but he knew he didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want to risk losing this magical moment.

“you drive and I’ll follow?”

“sounds good.” yuki grinned, kissing her again. “but just let me kiss you for a few more minutes to make sure that battery is well and truly charged.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando @oconso @thatsdemko @monzabee