#Tidy (trash) art

[sleepyzz0h]

Trash dweller x the little trashmaid crossover

Since the comic was my inspiration for his species

[feshsticks]

[tidytrash]

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

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Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling. 

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life. 

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same. 

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?”   Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

 Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

 Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?”  “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

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It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

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The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute. 

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to. 

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties. 

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it. 

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does. 

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much.  Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and..  Shit. You’re looking back.

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Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose  you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in. 

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear. 

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations. 

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away. 

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point. 

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again. 

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side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

[orbitariums]

rum punch | patrick zweig x black fem reader

writing this because patrick is definitely the type to text you like “if you wanna pull up just to get fucked here’s the addy”

obsessed with this song right now (rump punch by cash cobain) and listened to it over and over while writing this. i recommend listening to compliment your reading experience 🙏🏾 it’s sooo challengers especially patrick zweig coded. let’s review: “top five nasty, you ain’t even gotta ask me” and “soon as you leave i miss u too, like damn”; “don’t be asking questions like a interview cuz you really know what we finna do”...  “i just made her cum twice you ain’t make her cum once”?!!>!##? that’s patrick DOWN. sorry it must be said… 

so a little drabble-ish thing is ahead! contains: cheating (ooops), degradation, smut

it started when you started dating your current boyfriend, or at least that’s what you would tell yourselves to make you feel better about the whole ordeal — not that patrick cared much to begin with. but anybody who knew you and patrick knew that this had been going on for far longer than either of you would care to admit, or that either of you had enough introspective ability to even realize. every single playful shove, every time you squeezed his hand to deflect from parting at the end of a hangout, the way he’d stack his legs on top of yours while you were studying even though he knew you “hated” it, his thumb circling your hand, your head on his shoulder during a late night movie sesh with art and tashi, eyes fluttering closed until you found sleepy heaven in the perfect crevice of his neck. nearly every time you saw each other, which was frequent, you were touching without touching. art, who wasn’t one to make crass comments often, would always tell patrick: “it wouldn’t even make a difference, you should just go ahead and fuck each other. the shit you two do is more than just sex.”

it was 11:16 pm when you called him. your boyfriend had sped off in the middle of the night in a fit of anger after an intense argument about the same thing for the hundredth time. you were so tired. you’d been so close to texting or calling him before, but you refrained — you didn’t want things between the two of you to get messy when nothing in your life was going right in the first place. but now that you were nearly slumped against the wall with tears hot against your face, so tired beyond comprehension, you could blame it on the delirium brought on by exhaustion. you told yourself you just needed the comfort of your close friend, who always made you laugh.

“patrick, can i come over?” you’d asked, your voice trembling, your face buried in your sweater sleeve. 

patrick had never heard you sound so upset — he’d never even seen you cry. when you were around him, you were always so jovial and giggly. so when he heard your voice on the phone, so late at night, sounding so fragile and fractured, his eyebrows immediately knit together with concern, and he sat up on his couch. 

“yn, are you okay? is everything alright, you sound—”

“i’m fine,” you sniffled, breath catching on your voice multiple times. “just-just need a friend. please, can i come over?”

you couldn’t see it, but his features softened, and some wedge in his heart seemed to shift over,

“yeah. yeah, of course you can.”

he was so confused, but just glad to know that you were at least okay, taking pride in the fact that he was who you wanted to be around, whatever was going on. he made some rushed efforts to tidy up his bachelor apartment, sweeping crumbs under the rug, tucking in pillows on the couch, throwing yesterday’s takeout into the overflowing trashcan, and swiping the trash off his coffee table. 

he couldn’t believe how shrunken you looked when you appeared in front of his door that night, clad in an oversized stanford hoodie and sweatpants, slippers, tears still welling up in your eyes. this couldn’t be the same yn pushing him off of her with excessive force and maniacally cackling at his stupid jokes. 

“wh-”

before he could get a word out, you threw your arms around your waist, plopping your head down on his chest. he stilled for a moment out of shock, then relaxed into your touch, embracing you with his arms around your shoulders and down your back, holding you because he knew that’s what you needed right now. 

and then you were pulling away, sniffling and wiping away your tears, finally feeling some ounce of comfort now that you were with him. you knew, you knew, this was what you needed, as much as you had resisted this very thing. 

“it’s chris,” you said, moving past him and inside his apartment, groaning as you plunked down onto the couch. 

now, looking out the open door at the hallway ahead of him, patrick was nodding to himself silently, like he had come to some realization. he sat beside you, and you turned to him with a pout. and it was then that patrick knew he was not a good man for thinking about how pretty you looked with tears streaking your face and your lips pressed together in a girlish pout. 

“he’s like… intimidated by me or something. every single thing i tell him about my day, about work, about my friends, my wins… he’s always finding some thing to harp on like i’m some villain stopping him from achieving his finance bro dreams. he hates that i’m living my life because he isn’t living his yet. so every thing i earn, he just picks it apart and tears it down, questions my motives for everything.”

“he’s a dick, alright?” patrick said, in that ever so frank tone that you honestly missed, and wished you could hear during these arguments with your boyfriend. “yn, i’d never… we wouldn’t treat you like that, me and art and tashi. we’re your real friends, we celebrate you. that’s how a relationship’s supposed to go. he’s a stupid fuck.”

you grinned a bit at his correction, the corner of your lips turning up.

“i know you wouldn’t.”

“can i ask you something though, yn?”

“mhm?” you looked up at him with such innocent doe eyes that he didn’t want to call bullshit, but he was calling bullshit. 

“why… why’d you come over here? why not to tashi or your mom’s or… anyone else? why me?”

you sighed deeply, shaking your head,

“because, patrick, i… i just… want you right now.”

his face impossibly close to yours, intruding your senses and all your walls before you even realized they were up. 

“how do you want me?” he asked, his voice the softest it had ever been, his breath tickling your cheek. 

you were hoping you wouldn’t have to finish your sentence, and patrick knew it — his hands gripped the sides of your face with a stronghold, and then your lips were crashing against each other like a wave coming to the tide, foaming and sputtering and wetting the cracked sand at the shore. and it didn’t take long before you were climbing on top of him and straddling him, your clothes falling off one by one. his rough hand clutching your breast and squeezing, another in your panties navigating your clit like a fucking expert, making your back arch against the air. then your legs by your head as patrick drove himself into you, tender and slow and making you see stars instead of his face and the ceiling. fucking every tear out of you, turning your sobs of pain into sobs of pleasure. your moans were like a choir to him, licking flames against his earlobes each time you whimpered his name, leaving little half-circle imprints in his back with his nails. sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutched his eyes shut and tried not to come too fast, tried not to let the way you wrapped around him like a fucking snake— pussy squeezing his cock, legs trapping him inside you, hands roaming his back like new found land — make him lose focus. 

“fuck, your fucking moans. d’you have any idea how much i’ve thought about this? f- fuck, if you come to me crying again, i’m not gonna go so easy on you.”

if he had an ounce of self-respect, he’d have stopped you after the first time (he didn’t have the discipline to deny you completely), but something about him stirred at the unpredictable predictability of it all. he knew that at least once a week, you’d come crying to him over something your asshole boyfriend did to you, it was just a matter of what day of the week. 

he liked when you came over on friday nights most, because more often than not you’d stay the night, sometimes the weekend, making the excuse to your boyfriend that you were sleeping over at a girlfriend or your mother’s house. but really you were just spending the whole weekend getting fucked by your recovery boyfriend patrick, who would scrape up the little money he had to order food from your favorite thai restaurant every night and watch what were, in his opinion, the most insipid movies he’d ever seen — because he knew that less than halfway through you’d be split open on his cock, sobbing with pleasure into his shoulder as princess diaries became a distant echo in the background. his hand on the small of your back, his vision glazing over as he stares ahead at the tv, too enraptured by the sweet whimpers you make while you’re (attempting to) ride him, the sounds of your slick pussy swallowing him whole in slow intervals, panting and gasping as he speared you open because he was: “so big, patrick you’re so big.”

he’ll snap out of it then, find his hands wrapped around your waist and his lips buried in the crook of your neck,

“it’s okay, baby. you can take me.”

“i’m trying,” you wailed, the frustration so clear in your voice that it almost made him laugh. 

instead, he wrapped his hands around your waist firmly, leading you down onto his cock himself. 

“fuck!” you shouted out, practically collapsing forward onto him. “patrick, please—”

“if you can come to me crying just to get dick, you can take it.”

you gasped at the directness of his words, punching yourself for how much it turned you on. and he knew it too, by the way your pussy throbbed around his dick. you couldn’t see his face, but you could practically hear the shit-eating smirk in his voice as he grabbed your asscheek,

“yeah, your pussy loves it though. and you love being my little slut behind closed doors when your boyfriend isn’t acting right.”

you couldn’t control the moan that tumbled out of your lips when he said that, and definitely not the screech you let out when he started to thrust up, jackhammering into you so his cock reached the hilt. 

“that what you wanted?”

“yes, yes!” you wailed, nodding desperately, positively wrecked as your head practically hung over his shoulder, enveloped in a world of pleasure. 

“yeah… i know…”

and sometimes he won't be so nice. he'll be damn near using your pussy like a fleshlight, his body practically covering yours as he fucks you like an animal, hard and fast and rough, your pussy squelching around his cock each time he rams it into you. he'll use you like he's the one that needs comforting, like your pussy is the only safe haven he knows. and it's only fair, the way you hide out in his house and act like his dick is your life source. he fucks you like he's an athlete and this is his sport, tennis be damned. he'll degrade you anyway he knows how — because he knows you love it, knows it makes you finish two times as fast.

"he doesn't fuck you like this."

"you're such a fucking slut. come over here crying acting like you don't pull up just to get fucked." he'll laugh as he says this, and you want to smack his chest in indignation, but you can't manage anything but moans.

“you’re such a good girl. letting me use this pussy when i want.”

"there you go, squeeze my cock like it's yours."

"pussy's so greedy, getting fucked by the both of us. still so fucking tight."

"your boyfriend's probably wondering where you are." this has made you come twice now.

"whose pussy is it?" (and even though you have a man, you tell him it's his every time. sometimes he doesn't even need to ask, sometimes he fucks you so good that you just scream out: "it's your pussy — it's your pussy, daddy", and he'll chuckle and say: "i know.").

and you let him say these things and more, because he fucks you like no one ever has, like he knows something you told him in complete and total secrecy. like it's something so complex — but all it ever takes is one touch.

your friends have noticed something is different between you two, but it's honestly not a big jump from before — only this time, you guys sealed the deal and were actually fucking now. of course, patrick can't keep his mouth closed for long and ends up bragging to art, and you tell tashi because she's one of the girls, and now there's this unspoken understand between all of you. but no one feels the need to intervene, because honestly... it makes sense.

and you’ll have a conversation with him every other time, telling him “we have to stop doing this.” and one day he replies, 

“yn. not to be a dick or anything, but you’re the one who calls me. you act like you're coming over for comfort, but we both know it's my dick doing all the comforting."

and you know it’s true, you know patrick is right even if he is an asshole. but you won’t let that stop you from texting him: thai food and a movie? everytime your boyfriend fucks up. and patrick won't stop you either.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Three

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!

Word Count: 1131

Series Masterlist

• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.

That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.

“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.

“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.

“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.

“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.

“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.

“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”

“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.

I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.

“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.

“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”

“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.

I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.

Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.

“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.

“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.

“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.

I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”

“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.

I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?

There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.

I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.

American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.

History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.

Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.

As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.

“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.

“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.

“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.

“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”

“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.

Next

[h0neybunns]

Random hxh hcs || send request

————-————-——————————————

- Hisoka 1000% has a soft spot for any cute animal and he definitely spends hours playing with kittens when he thinks no one is watching

Kurapika is a very talented chef and he likes to make his own recipes and he posted it online on his food blog

-Leorio loves bad romcom movies he watches them fully and posts a detailed review on movie rating websites under the user “MedicianMan”

- Killua is a huge fan of video games, and he's very competitive, and he rages and trash talks his teammates.

- Illumi is a huge neat freak, and he's always organizing and cleaning his surroundings. He's very particular about the way things are arranged, and he expects the same level of tidiness from everyone.

-Kite makes dad jokes and they always fall flat but.

-Shalnark is a huge fan of horror movies and him and leorio got into a argument on a rating form about a movie (he didn’t know it was shalnark)

- Palm is a huge fan of romance novels.

- Kalluto is a huge fan of fashion but he only wears the same few outfits

- Feitan is a huge fan of martial arts movies, and he's always practicing new moves and techniques.

-Leorio is a huge fan of coffee and will spend outrageously amours of money on coffee and equipment.

-Gon really likes puzzles but can never solve them

-Hisoka has a yt channel where he exposes fake magic tricks to ruin the magic from kids

- Kurapika is a huge fan of history.

•chrollo and illumi have really crusty lips (FIGHT ME ON IT)

-Neferpitou doesn’t understand what a coat hanger is and played if it for hours like a cat

-Pouf has a glitter trail whenever he walks

-every 10 mins leorio has to lick his lips because they are so dry none knows why he uses chapstick and everything

——————————————————————

I had to upload again cuz I didn’t know I deleted it lolll

[babygorewhore]

Tied up. Stan bowes Smut.

You’re tired of working your useless job. Until one night you see an advertisement listing. You accept. What happens next?

WARNINGS! Bdsm themes. Daddy kink. Fingering. Oral! Fem recieving. Ropes. Age gap! Pnv!

You took another swig of the drink in front of you. You had worked late again. Your clothes were wrinkled, you needed to shower but you had to stop at the bar first.

“Another round?” The bartender asked, raising his brow when he saw the empty glass. You opened your mouth to say no, considering you had to work again tomorrow, but you decided to say fuck it.

You nodded and he proceeded to pour the liquor into the glass, sliding it over to you.

The television played the news, showing the same tragic events that happened yesterday. You hated watching it. All the negativity. All the people turning against one another. It made you sick.

You were a housekeeper. At a hospital of all places. You’d been there for two years. Your back permanently tilted from lugging around buckets and a trash can all day. Your scrubs were stained from bleach, your hair thrown up in a bun and you hadn’t worn real clothes in a week. You were only 21 years old, living in a shitty apartment downtown.

If you quit your job, you’d have to move back in with your parents and that’s not what you wanted. You wanted independence and freedom yes but you also wanted security and the ability to enjoy things around you. Everything was so fucking depressing.

You hadn’t been on a date, other than driving through a parking lot with some football player who tried to shove his hand up your skirt an hour later and you slapped him across the face. Your life wasn’t interesting. But you craved intimacy. Something. Something to make your life more enjoyable.

As you rode in the Uber, scrolling your phone you saw a ad on a job search that you forgot to unsubscribe too. “Wanted housekeeper.” It said. The pricing was more than you made and one day less than you worked.

Biting your lip as you walked inside your apartment, you looked around the room. You kept it tidy, given your job but you groaned when you saw it was after midnight. You’d have to be up soon. You glanced back at the add. Cleaning a house? Verses a hospital. Again, you decided to say fuck it. You clicked on the application and added your resume, contact information and photo. Throwing off your shoes, snapping off your bra, you climbed into bed and turned on your comfort show you’ve watched for the 100th time.

Your eyes drifted shut before you felt your phone buzz.

Groaning, you rolled over and selected your phone. It was an email. The message from from a name, Stan Bowes. And you skimmed the text before opening it. “When can you start?” It read. You sat up, surprised at the fast response. Normally that would be a red flag but you were desperate.

You typed. “Two days.”

Waiting, you shimmied out of your scrubs and laid back down. Your phone lit up and you checked it. “Done. Here’s the address.” You breathed harder. That’s it? You had a new job. Sighing, you curled into a ball and fell asleep.

You arrived at the house two days later, wearing your stained scrubs. It was big, bigger than the house you grew up in and you realized something as you reached underneath the welcome Matt for the key. As you opened the door, the entrance welcomed you. This guy was rich, you thought while closing the door behind you.

Modern furniture, art and shiny hardwood floor adorned the living room. Your feet padded the space and you frowned. It was pristine. You went into the large kitchen, an island was wiped off. The dishes put away, and it even smelled clean.

Was this the right address? You checked again on your phone. It was the right address.

You climbed up the stairs, opened up the first door on the right. Finally, you saw the mess. Clothes thrown everywhere. The bed unmade. Trash bags everywhere. You nodded to yourself and set down your cleaning supplies. This would take you a few hours, with that including vacuuming, dusting and cleaning the window. You knew how to extend your time, making the pay fair.

The hours went by, you finished the bedroom and made your way to the downstairs. You felt unsure of what to do, you could vacuum and mop the already clean floor. Deciding to do that, you started humming to yourself as you twirled the cord. This was significantly more peaceful than scrubbing blood off hospital floors but you worried. Was this is? Cleaning a bedroom and tidying an already clean rest of the house?

The door opened and you turned, wiping your hands on your pant leg. A man entered, holding a briefcase and he was wearing a suit. He was handsome, brown hair, brown eyes with a strong nose. He was taller than you, lean muscle. 30s, you guessed. Younger than you imagine for having a house this big.

“Oh, hello, Y/N, right?” He asked. You nodded, and extended your hand for a shake.

He gripped your palm, shaking it gently. “Stan. Stan Bowes.” You smiled in greeting, feeling nervous by his attractive face.

“You’ve done a wonderful job.” He noted, glancing around the room.

“Well-honestly it was already clean when I arrived, Mr. Bowes. I’m a little worried to be honest. There wasn’t much for me to actually clean.” You confessed.

“I know. I wanted to be private about this job, because I couldn’t advertise my real intention.” He said, sinking onto the couch.

Your head tilted. “True intention?”

“I…advertise cleaning to keep things subtle. But really, my real hope is to have someone’s company.” You almost groaned when you realized exactly what he meant.

“So, you’re a sugar daddy? Is that what you’re saying?” You asked, withholding a cackle. You couldn’t believe you fell for something too good to be true. Granted you were a little tipsy, tired and you were about to fall asleep.

“I-I don’t care for that but…I-“

You held up your hand. “Let me guess. Cheating on your wife?”

He stilled, his shoulders dropping. You knew you hit a nerve. “My wife. We’re not together anymore. But she has my children most of the time. And I-I’m desperate. I’m desperate to have someone near me. My wife was more like a roommate. And after a while, I wanted to leave but she didn’t want that. I filed for divorce, she fought me the whole time and finally I’m here.”

You sigh, believing him. But what were you supposed to do with this information? You couldn’t just sleep with him for money. Well, you honestly could, he was hot as fuck but…would to be worth it? You needed the money. Badly. You hated your job. You hated your life.

“What would I have to do? Sleep with you?” You asked.

Stan shook his head rapidly. “No, no. Just…keep me company. Talk to me. Spend time with me. And I’ll take care of you in return.”

You went home after that statement, you got out of the shower and put on your robe. You hadn’t made a decision yet. Promising to text him after you did. Walking to your small bedroom, you sat on the bed and sighed.

Just spending time with him? Talking to him? That’s it. That’s all he wanted. A paid girlfriend basically. You would be responding to a 30 plus year old divorced single dad. It was every teenage fantasy you had but this was real life. How would you explain this to anyone? “Yeah, mom. My boyfriend. He um pays me.” You laid on your pillow.

You debated this. This wouldn’t last forever, who knows how long. It wasn’t guaranteed. But you couldn’t help the urge to try it. He seemed like a nice guy. Lonely, but nice. He saw you in dirty scrubs and still asked you to be a his sugar baby.

Picking up your phone, stopping yourself from thinking about it too long, you brought up his contact information on your phone.

“I’ll do it.” You typed. You pressed send.

“Meet me at my house tomorrow. 8 o clock. Wear whatever you want.”

You bit your lip, your heart quickening in pace. You didn’t have much to work with but you did have an idea.

The next day came, you rushed home from work, jumped into the bath and scrubbed yourself clean. You wore your hair down, threw on some eyeliner, lip gloss. You wore all black as you rode in the Uber on your way there, you dressed the same as you did in high school.

You arrived at his house, 2 minutes to spare and you jumped out. Walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.

He answered, wearing a white suit shirt, black trousers and his tie was loose. You felt underdressed. “I hope what I’m wearing is okay?” Stan guided you inside with his hand on your back.

“Of course. It’s perfect. You’re perfect, I mean.” He chuckles awkwardly and you both go into the living room. Sitting down, you press your knees together and wait for him to tell what was going to happen next.

“How was your day?” He asked you, settling next to you.

“Oh, it was-okay. Boring honestly. My life is boring.” You shrugged.

“Boring? You’re so young and you think your life is boring already?” Stan questioned. “Tell me more.”

“Tell you about me?” You parroted and he licks his lips. Nodding.

“I was a good kid. Always stuck to the rules. Pretty good parents. But I had a rough time in high school.”

“Why do you say that?” Stan asked and you could see his sincerity through his brown eyes.

“Oh you know, I was bullied. Asked out as a joke. Just typical high school shit.” You laughed.

“Someone asked you out as a joke?” Stan asked, disgust evident in his tone.

“Oh, more than once actually. The first three times, I actually fell for it.” You leaned back on the couch. Stan leaned forward, resting his hand on your knee. He gave it a soft squeeze before he pulled away. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You deserve better.”

“What’s your story? I mean. I know you’re lonely. Divorced. With a couple of kids. But what else? What makes you Stan?” You inquired.

“I’m as uninteresting as they get. I’m afraid. My life is meaningless. I go to work. Come home and go to sleep. Start it all over again.” He rubbed his hand over his face.

Now, you were curious. He was sitting with his legs spread. He had muscular legs, you had to admit. He was desperate. Paying a stranger to spend an evening with him, just talking. “Who do you work for?” You quipped.

Stan quirked his eyebrow. “Donald Trump.”

“Oh shut up,” You laughed. “No you don’t.” Stan’s eyes slid over to you before he reached inside his pocket. He pulled out his badge. It was an identification from the building downtown. One that Donald, orange trump owned.

“No way. So, that’s your secret huh? You work for him, you make a bunch of money and you’re a sugar daddy? I don’t think that’s meaningless.” You giggled and he rolled his eyes before smiling to himself.

“Yeah, well. Tell that to my ex wife.”

“When was the last time you went out, Stan? Got out of your house that obviously doesn’t need cleaning?” You flashed your eyebrows at him, the words flowing off your tongue like honey. His veiny hands extended down his legs as he leaned on his knees.

“It’s been two years since I’ve partied. What about you? A shy, young girl, living in a studio apartment. Working as a housemaid. Surely, you like to go out?”

You hummed and pulled your legs up to your chest. “Last time I went out, it was to a rock concert. A tour of three bands. I stayed out until 3am. I had just turned 20. It was the best night of my life.”

“A rock concert huh? For some reason, I took you as a Ed Sheeran fan. Or Taylor swift?” You smirked.

“I like other things too. And I’m not just some young girl. I have dreams, goals, you know.” The more you spoke, the easier it was.

“I’d love to hear them.”

“I want to get my psychology degree. I want to help people. Make a difference actually. Instead of what I’m doing. I’ve always to reach someone. Pull them from the darkness.” You spoke with your eyes focused on his white ceiling. You felt him shift.

“I want you to do that too. I can tell you would be good at helping people.” You turned your head to look at him. He had moved closer.

“Why?”

“Because you’re helping me. Right now.” He whispered. And glanced at your lips. Your heart thudded louder against your chest. You knew what he was thinking. But would you let it happen?

“Can I kiss you?”

The request hung in the air like a ringing bell and everything went silent. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, to your eyes. Then down again. What would happen if you said yes? Would that be it? You wouldn’t know unless you gave in…

You nodded.

Stan leaned in slowly, his hands still on his laps as he breathed in your scent. His lips encompassed your lower one, softly sucking on the flesh. Your hand went to rest on his chest, gently gripping the fabric as he deepened the kiss. Turning his head to the side, he brushed his tongue against your lip, asking for entrance and you granted it.

He groaned into your mouth, his hand reaching to cup your jaw. His mouth was warm, his hand calloused as he ran his thumb across your cheek.

Stan leaned his weight down, pinning your back against the couch as he kissed you, hungrily and desperately as his hand moved from you face, to your neck, squeezing softly.

You pulled back at the contact, breathing heavily and glanced at his hand encircling your neck. Stan leaned back, almost ashamed of his actions. “I’m sorry. I know…it’s not part of the deal. I just couldn’t seem to help myself-“

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You whispered, caressing your neck.

He looked at you again, eyes darting to your own hand. “I haven’t-kissed a woman in a while. I know this situation is extremely complicated. You don’t owe me anything. And if you want to leave, you can. I’ll still pay you for everything. But-“

“Stan, it’s okay. It’s just a kiss.” You reassured him before biting your lip. Kissing him, your core tightened at his heavy breathing. Soft romantic eyes…

You went to your hands, crawling over to him and you straddled his lap. Either legs on the side of his pelvis and his eyes widened. Your hands settled on his shoulders, before trailing to his hair. It was soft underneath your fingertips. Could you do it? Your hips rolled against his, you felt him harden beneath you and you smiled at him. You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, but you didn’t want it to end. “Mmmm,” You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his neck. “You seem so nervous, Stan? What’s wrong? You’re not used to being wanted?” Your mouth settled on his sweetspot by his collarbone and he shivered at your tongue brushing against it.

“I-I don’t know. You’re so young. So inexperienced.” You gently bit down, and he moaned, his hand moving to your lower back. His other went to your breast.

“Stan?”

“Yes?”

“Shut the fuck up. And do as your told.” Your hand went to his neck, squeezing the sides and your other hand went to his crotch. You started massaging his cock outside his pants, giving the erection a slight squeeze. Stans head lulled to the side but you straightened it, gripping his jaw.

“Stay still.” You whispered in his ear.

You went to lower yourself down, before his hand went to your hair. He maneuvered you over his lap, his arm pinning you down over his knee and you gasped in shock.

“I think you have me mistaken for some little boy who likes to be dominated. But I think you’re mistaken, baby.” His voice was soft and commanding.

But his hold on your hair tightened, pulling your head back, your breasts arched above his knee and his other hand settled on your ass.

“You know, I want you to count. Count to 10. And if you don’t, I’ll stop touching you. And I don’t think you don’t want that.” Your breath shuddered as his hand came down. Hard.

“Ah! Fuck!” You cried out at the stinging. But you obeyed him, any urge to take control was futile. “One.” You winced as he continued spanking, but you counted to ten.

“Good girl.” He leaned to whisper that in your ear before releasing you. You went to the ground on your hands and knees, shocked at the sudden turn of events. Your head whipped to him as he stood up.

“You have two options, Y/n.” He started, resting his hands on his hips. “You can walk away right now, like I said. Or,” He trailed towards you, leaning down to brush his thumb across your lips. “you’ll do whatever I want.”

You were speechless as his eyes narrowed hungrily. “You seem nervous, Y/n. What’s wrong? You’re not used to someone wanting you?” He repeated your words and you inhaled sharply.

“I’ll do whatever you want.” You whispered, looking up at him with your mouth watering. Stan nodded. A new, dangerous confidence building inside him.

He aimed his head towards the stairs. “Go upstairs. On your hands and knees.” He ordered softly.

It took more time, going up the steps on your hands and knees but you made it to the hallway with Stan behind you. He remained silent. “We’re not going to my bedroom. We’re going to the spare room.” You turned and saw him holding a key.

He walked ahead of you, his posture stiff as he turned the key to a door at the end of the hall. “One last chance to back out.”

You shook your head. “I want to see.” You insisted. He sighed and opened the door.

“Oh my god.” You whispered.

It was red. A red room. Dozens of tools hung from the walls, fake candles flickered around and in the center was a large bed that had black bedding but underneath were crimson LED lights. A black chandelier hung on the ceiling, but what caught your attention were whips, riding crops and robes that adorned the wall.

“This is…my secret. This is why most people run from me.” Stan sighed and clicked his tongue.

“Your secret? That you’re super kinky and you have some sort of sex dungeon?” You realized the hypocrisy of your statement, given you were on all fours but you couldn’t help it.

Stan chuckled and put the key in his pocket. “I’m waiting.” He said to you and you entered the room, crawling forward.

“Stop.” You did and you sat on your heels and Stan approached you. Holding rope. Surprisingly, despite the situation, he still seemed somewhat unconfident.

“Stan,” You began as he secured the rope around your wrists. “I want to do this.” He paused and looked down at you. “I want you to use me. Anyway you want.” You pleaded.

Stan grounded his teeth before he yanked you from the floor, crashing his lips to yours in a fevered kiss of tongue and teeth. Blood quirked from your bottom lip as he tugged it with his teeth, pushing you onto the bed. He pushed your hands above your head, holding you in place. Your center pooled as he ripped himself away.

“I want you to spread your legs.” Stan growled. His hand flexing.

You separated your knees, your underwear sticking to your pussy as he licked his lips. Stans fingers circled around your pants, pulling them down slowly and your underwear. Your pussy glistens and he flicked his pointer finger, inside the wet walls before trailing your clit.

You trembled as he inserted it into his mouth, his eyes drifted shut and he hummed to himself. “You taste so sweet.” He groaned before leaning down.

He trailed kisses along your inner thighs, close but not close enough. His tongue moved along your pussy but pulled away last second.

“Fuck, Stan. Please don’t tease me.” He launched himself up, his fingers plunging inside you. You threw your head back, as he went knuckle deep and sank into you.

“You don’t order me around. Do you understand?” He pumped his fingers inside you, and your back arched as he went deeper, impossibly deeper.

“Yes-yes I understand.” You squeaked.

“Yes what?” His thumb grazed your clit before pulling away.

“I-I don’t know.” You whimpered. Stan removed his fingers and shoved them into your mouth.

You tasted yourself on his digits and you tried to fight against the ropes but they were tight. “What did you call me that first night? I want you to say it.”

You realized what he meant.

“Daddy?” You questioned. He nodded.

“Now, ask me. What do you want from me? You can ask me. Nice and proper.”

“Daddy…please. Taste me. I need it. Please?” You begged.

Your begging killed him and he forced your legs apart. “Moan nice and loud for me okay?” Stan whispered as he laid on his stomach, lifting your thighs over his shoulders.

He laid his tongue flat against your pussy, kitten licking your clit repeatedly, before diving down to your entrance, then bringing it back to the top. You moaned, loudly in your chest and throat before you turned your head to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as Stan increased the pressure on your clit.

You shuddered as his fingers swiped against your entrance before he slid two fingers inside, pumping slowly as he slowed his pace on your sensitive bud, torturing you as you neared your climax, before he would change paces again.

“Daddy-please don’t tease me-“ You inhaled and Stan chuckled against you.

“I don’t think you should tell me what to do right now, baby. Do you? Not when I have you splayed out like this.” He licked a long, stripe against you before he pulled away. Keeping his fingers deep inside you.

Sweat gathered on your forehead as your back arched into his hand. His free one settled underneath your midsection as he hovered over you.

“You’re being so good, taking my fingers like this baby. You’re being such a good girl, right now.” His mouth went to your neck, he peppered kisses along your skin. “Such a pretty little slut. Doing whatever I want.” You were about to burst.

“Let go for me, it’s okay. And then I’m gonna fuck you like an animal.” Stan reached over to the drawer, selecting a plastic wrapped condom. Sliding off his pants and boxers, he wrapped his dick inside the protection. His hand locked on your shoulder as he turned you over on your stomach, forcing your tied hands on the bed with your ass up.

His hand pushed down on your head, “Spread your legs. Nice and wide for me, okay?” He ordered softly and you listened, breathing heavily as he pressed himself inside you.

You buried your head down, exhaling long and hard as he thrusted inside you, shifting to hold your hips in place as he moved deep and hard into you. “Fuck.” He moaned as your walls clenched around him, welcoming him in the deepest parts of you.

You stayed like that for several seconds, him moving roughly against you with his hard cock pounding you, animalisticly like he promised. He gripped you in place as you tried to move your hips to create friction. He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “I’m gonna play with your pussy now, okay? Can you hold out a little longer for me? You’re doing a good job, princess.” He groaned.

You couldn’t hardly see straight as his fingers circled around your clit as he continued thrusting, you weren’t going to last much longer. This was better than anything you had, better than your own pathetic fingers.

“I’m gonna-daddy I’m gonna come-“ You managed before your release came over you with a powerful rush. You stilled and then felt Stan stop moving as he came, releasing into the confines of the condom.

He pulled out of you, releasing your fullness and he collapsed next you. You turned over on your back, panting heavily as he started untying your hands. As they were free, you stretched out your arms over your head as he laid next to you.

You both stayed silent, breathless and then you moved over, leaning your cheek onto his chest. He glanced down at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Was that submissive enough for you?” Stan asked and you chuckled with a blush.

Soon after, you ended up falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke up late, still naked on the bed. When you sat up, you noticed a note next to you.

“Had to leave. Hopefully…I see you soon on your next work night. Maybe we can make this a regular occurrence…S.B”

You bit your lip. It was the most passionate night you’d ever had. But he had to leave. Without establishing the next step.

As you left the house, you turned one last time before making your mind up. Next time? He would be the one tied up and helpless.

Taglist. @spill-the-t @icannot3 @howtobesasha @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @demxnicprxncess @evanptrss @randodummy tagging @frankenkyle19 and @scene-and-dandylover because they requested it tonight

[oneforthemunny]

janitor!eddie munson x reader blurb

eddie au where he starts working at hawkins elementary as a janitor. steve is a fourth grade teacher there and gets him the job, something with benefits and better hours than selling weed and working at the plant.

eddie's nervous being in a school. he graduated a few years before and vowed to never go back. it was no secret he'd been severely mistreated in his school days, but steve assured him they were elementary school kids- they wouldn't care.

he finds its a pretty easy job. sweep the halls, scrub the desks from any doodles, change the trash. the worst part is when a kid throws up, but that's not as common as he thought. as it would turn out, elementary school kids are pretty clean and tidy- he supposes it's the age.

they're also pretty sweet. always high-fiving 'mr.munson' in the hallways, and cheering when he'd come in to fix the pencil sharpener. it's the first job eddie has that he looks forward to. especially, when he gets to see you everyday.

steve introduced you two, in the teacher's lounge. eddie was sitting at a table with him, lunch pail with a ham sandwich he'd thrown together that morning. you'd waltzed in, sunshiney and smiley, chatting with another teacher. he'd noticed your skirt, how bright it was, bright and pink, hitting your calves at a respectful length. it made you look so cheery, happy, instantly brightening the space you walked into.

"y/n," steve called, waving at you when you grabbed your lunch bag out of the fridge. eddie's breath caught, feeling like the sandwich doubled in size ever bite he took. you grinned warmly, excusing yourself from the other teachers and walking over to steve.

"hi, steve." you greeted, taking a seat at the round table between the two of them.

"y/n, this is eddie. he just started her as the new custodian." steve said.

eddie wanted to roll his eyes, and give his usual response, "custodian. pssh, quit fancying' it up on my behalf, harrington, I'm a janitor."  but he couldn't. not when you looked over at him, eyes lit up and smiling.

"oh, it's so nice to meet you." you laughed, introducing yourself. eddie wiped his hands on his navy coveralls- the school had insisted he wear- clammy hands shaking yours.

"we're hallmates." steve teased, joining you in a laugh.

"we teach fourth grade. mr. harrington does math and science, and I do language arts and history." you said with a smile so wide eddie couldn't help but match yours.

eddie wanted to reply, but his head was swimming, blushing so furiously he was sure it was rising up his neck. "so, are you from hawkins too?" you asked, looking at eddie.

he nodded, clearing his throat gently. "y-yeah. I went here actually... back in the day. it-it's been a while ago, obviously, you knew that." eddie rambled, running a hand down his face.

you smiled, steve giving eddie a knowing smirk over her shoulder, making eddie blush even more. "a-are you from here? I haven't ever seen you around, but ya know, that doesn't mean anything. I mean, you could've been homeschooled, right? we're you homeschooled?" eddie stammered, mind whirring and buzzing. he couldn't stop rambling, spilling out the words as he looked at you.

you shook you head. "no, I wasn't homeschooled, and I'm not from here." you smiled, and eddie swore he saw you blush a little.

the next few weeks, you two talked in friendly conversation. you always greeted him with a cheery and bright 'hello!'. when he'd get your trash during your planning period, you would chat with him, asking about his weekend. he liked that you didn't fake conversation or ignore him like some of the other teachers did- the one's who remembered the outcasted munson boy from his time there as a child.

it wasn't until one day after school, eddie was pushing his cleaning cart, making his rounds through the classrooms, that he saw you. "hey, eddie?" you called, poking your head out of the classroom.

eddie was surprised you were still here. school had been out for a while, all the other teachers and staff had gone home.

"could I get your help, please?" you asked, biting your lower lip. eddie's heart pounded. "if you're not busy."

eddie pushed his cart to the side, making his way down the hallway to you. he liked that your door was always decorated, pictures that your student's had drawn surrounding your name and room number, colorful and inviting on the usual dull, wooden door.

"surprised you're still here." eddie grinned.

you laughed, shrugging softly. "yeah, well, I've been doing this," you pushed the door open, revealing the classroom.

eddie's eyes bulged, your room looked like a red and pink bomb had gone off in it. paper mache hearts, painted cupid's from the 60's, construction paper links of red and pink draping each of the student's desk.

"wow," eddie said, looking around him.

you smiled sheepishly. "I've been a little busy, can you tell?" you giggled.

eddie gaped, fingers trailing over the lace doilies around the hearts. "you, uh, you like valentine's day, huh?" he asked.

you shrugged. "it's alright. I'm sure it better when you have someone to share it with." eddie's head whipped around, shocked. no way you were single.

"I just like to go big like this for holidays, all holidays. it makes the kids happy, especially in the cold months. they always get kinda sluggish and sad, so if I can do this to make them happy, then I will." you said simply.

eddie smiled. "your kids are real lucky to have you." he said. "I woulda killed for a teacher like you. I had teachers like mrs. burns." he shuddered. you cringed slightly. that pre-historic woman was still teaching. eddie had thought he was being haunted when he first saw her this year.

"I- thank you." you said, blushing, hiding your smile. "I had a teacher once, ms. mccason, and she really inspired me to be a teacher. she was always so fun, and exciting, made me actually want to come to school." you gushed. eddie watched you, carefully, happily. he liked seeing you like this.

"she would decorate like this, and- oh!" you turned, grabbing some of your decorations. "that's why I needed help, actually. she would always hang the decorations from the ceiling, and I thought that was the coolest thing, and I wanted to do that, but I can't exactly reach to put the cupid's up." you said, looking at eddie hopefully.

eddie nodded, pulling out a chair, stepping carefully onto it with his heavy work boots before pushing up on the ceiling tile. you handed him one by one, chatting with him as you went. about school, how he met steve, what you liked to do outside of school, even eddie's band.

"I play at the hideout, sometimes." eddie said, hanging the last one before stepping down. "uh, you should come sometime."

your eyes lit up. "yeah?" you asked.

eddie nodded, cheeks flaming. "yeah. I-i mean, if you want to." he blushed. "we play every tuesday. sometimes we get the thursday or friday spot. just depends if tony's being a dick or not." he muttered and you giggled.

"yeah, I'd love to come sometime." you smiled, swaying slightly, hands clasped in front of you.

"cool." eddie grinned. "I'd love to see you there."

you had gone, the next tuesday. steve joined you with his friend robin and dustin, two mutual friends of eddie as well. the three of you made up most of the crowd, but eddie didn't mind. he was just happy you'd showed up.

the two of you stayed crowded in a booth, even after everyone else left, sharing beers and giggly stories. you didn’t care that it was a school night, too caught up in eddie. he kissed you when he walked you to your car that night, boozy and blushy, stammering apologies and wide eyed when he pulled away.

you grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. on friday, you had your valentine’s day party. students hyper on exchanged candies, little cards tucked away in their handmade boxes.

you stayed late, pulling down decorations before the weekend, perking up when you heard eddie’s cart squeak and wheel down the hallway.

“need any help?” eddie asked, leaning in the doorway.

he helped you pull down each decoration, sharing heart shaped suckers and conversation hearts that were left in your own valentine’s day box.

“oh,” you said, spinning around, and opening the top drawer of your desk. “I almost forgot.”

you handed a small, red envelope over to him. your pretty writing scrawled on the top.

‘to: eddie’ with a small heart besides his name.

he’d blushed, laughing when he opened it. a cartoon guitar with flames and hearts that read, ‘you rock, valentine!’ in obnoxiously large font. beneath it, you’d scribbled a little note.

‘thanks for the best night out. you do rock. wondering if you’re free saturday?’ your number in the following lines.

eddie looked up wide eyed at you. you winked, blushing towards him. “if you want to go out again.” you shrugged. “I’d love to spend valentine’s day with you. maybe go to the movies? or the bowling alley?”

eddie nodded, blabbering yes while blushing so hard he was sure his cheeks would melt right onto the ground.

you waited for him to lock up, walking you to your car. he promised to call the next morning, and he did. when he showed up at your little town house, he greeted you with a dozen red roses, his blushing cheeks matching them.

[wolfxplush]

Caught Lead Handed

Small one shot of Oscar and Lovette cause I’d find their friendship funny!!!

Oscar belongs to @lyalyagushkina

It was late in the afternoon, and the last few rays of sun streamed through the classroom windows of bullsworth academy, most of the students had cleared out, leaving a faint hum of chatter fading down the hallway from the remaining cliques having some last minute activities or calmer bullies shaking down the stray nerds dumb enough to stay late. The only sound now was the scratching of chalk on the blackboard as the prefect, Lovette , finished tidying up the classroom for the day. She had a reputation for being no-nonsense—sharp, disciplined, and with a near-permanent look of annoyance etched on her face. Earning the nickname The Bear among the other prefects due to her likeness of one.

As she moved between the rows of desks, she noticed something strange. A few loose papers were strewn carelessly across the surface of one desk, left behind in the rush to leave. With a heavy sigh, Lovette bent down to gather them up, expecting to find some crumpled-up math homework or a forgotten essay. But when she turned the first page over, her eyes widened in disbelief.

There, in crude pencil sketches, were detailed drawings of naked women—amateurish but undeniably bold. She flipped through the pages, each one more daring than the last. Her jaw clenched, and her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. What kind of idiot would leave these sitting out?

She didn’t need to look far to find the culprit.She had felt with this type of stuff before, all tracing back to one of the school’s resident greasers. Oscar.

"Of course, it’s him,"Lovette muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she tucked the papers under her arm. She stormed out of the classroom, her footsteps echoing in the empty hall as she sniffed out her prey.

Oscar was leaning casually against the lockers just outside, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, nose deep into his notebook sketching away. His hands smudged with pencil lead from the pencil he held tightly in his grip. The same pencil he slammed shut in his notebook once he heard Lovette approach.

“Lovette!" Oscar drawled, his lips curving into a lazy grin. "What brings the almighty prefect to my corner of the world? Couldn’t resist my charm?"

Lovette didn’t waste any time. She pulled the stack of drawings from under her arm and held them up, waving them in front of his face. “Care to explain this?” she demanded, her voice laced with annoyance.

Oscar's eyes flicked to the drawings, a flicker of shock in his eyes, but his grin only widened. He gave a mock sigh and leaned in closer, his voice lowering in that signature, smooth tone he reserved for flirting. "Aw, c'mon, You know, if you wanted to see me outside of class, all you had to do was ask. No need to frame me for something!” A chuckle left his throat as he shrugged, removing himself from the locker he leaned upon.

Lovettes lips thinned, and she crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unimpressed. “Don’t even try it, Oscar. You left your trash on the desk, and now I’ve got to clean up your mess—again. Do you know this is far too inappropriate for a school! Keep this shit in the dorms! I don’t need the younger students finding it.” She hissed out. Tone laced with a venom.

Oscar chuckled, his voice a teasing mock. “Aw come on they ain’t porn, this is art! It’s like nude modeling! Are you trying to restrict my artistic creativity? That’s not very perfect like of you Lovette, maybe I should-“

“Don’t,” she cut him off sharply, stepping closer with narrowed eyes. “I don’t have time for your sleazy excuses, and this—" she waved the papers again, "is getting you in detention. So keep your 'inspiration' to yourself.”

For a moment, Oscar looked like he might keep pushing, the playful spark in his eyes dancing as he leaned in even closer, close enough for Lovette to catch a whiff of his cheap cologne and the lingering scent of pencil lead smudged on his cheek. “You know, sweetheart, if you spent less time scowling and more time relaxing, you’d have a lot more fun. I could show you how!”

Lovettes expression was pure ice. “I’m not here for fun, Oscar. I’m here to make sure punks like you follow the rules. You can take your ‘charm’ somewhere else because it doesn’t work on me.” She crumpled the paper in her hand into a ball.

Oscar leaned back with a shrug, his smile faltering just for a second. But like always, he played it off, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get all worked up, prefect. I’ll pick up after myself next time, promise.”

“Good,” she snapped. “Because if I catch you pulling this again, you’ll be doing a lot more than sitting in detention. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Oscar gave her one last cocky smirk, but as he turned to walk away. Lovette didn’t care. She watched him go with the same look of mild irritation she always wore, shaking her head.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath, shoving the drawings into her bag. Some people just never learned.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

The "who can cook on a basic level" got me giggling lmaooo. Like I can imagine Konig's apartment or whatever being a mess.

Like there would be minimal furniture. Just the necessities. Bed, plates, couch, some clothes, small TV. There would be dishes in the sink and dirty clothes stacked in the corner. The only thing that is in order is his knife and gun collection (and maybe his bed is made since i hear the military takes that seriously, i think, lmao).

Engel comes over, and she's like the "damn bitch you live like this???" Meme.💀💀💀💀

"The only thing that is in order is his knife and gun collection (and maybe his bed is made since i hear the military takes that seriously, i think, lmao)."

LOL I'm crying. This is our man right here!

Gun & knife collection absolutely shipshape, everything is oiled and polished and clean and sharp and taken care of with furious love and neurotic control.

Everything else is just meh whatever, the furniture was hauled into the apartment from a thrift store, this guy eats white toast and pretends he's a basketball player as he dunks some trash into the bin all the way from his mattress, I doubt he even has a tv. (He just stares at a wall or at his collections or argues on the internet if he feels like shit)

All his shirts are black, he only owns one plate and two forks – you can usually find them in the sink, he just washes them quickly when he needs to eat – one frying pan, two mugs and three glasses. Perhaps a toaster and a coffee machine. And absolutely NO ART whatsoever on the walls, no posters, no pics, no nothing, just white paint.

König is also the meme "when you have to shower at his place" 💀 Like there's one sad deodorant and some general "sea breeze" men's body wash meeting your horrified gaze as you enter the bathroom. Apparently he uses the body wash as a shampoo... and as a hand soap :/ (You hope he uses it as a hand soap since there isn't a pump soap or soap bar in sight)

And there's always dirty socks on the floor when you come to visit. Otherwise, the place is surprisingly clean, he must vacuum regularly or have some kind of army routine he opts to to keep the place so tidy.

[ellaa-writes]

The Art of Survival

authors note: Will probably move this over to a03 due to the mature themes. Was inspired by many of my favourite horror movies such as The Collector/Collection, Hellraiser, Martyrs, Hostel etc. This is not a romance, all works of fiction. AU of the character Konig from cod. Readers discretion is advised. 18+ MDNI

summary: He went by many names, Doctor, Son, Professor, Colleague, Apprentice and his favourite Master. He lived his life by strict rules, follow them or lose it all. Their's been many before her and their will be many after her. She was the first to succeed, the first to prevail. She was his special toy, all dressed up just to make sure she sells. Strutting on a shelf, waiting to be picked out.

cw: Dark Themes ahead, kidnapping, torture, violence, blood, death. Non-con, Dub-con. 18+ MDNI, unrealistic and unsafe bdsm practices/references. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

The rhythmic tapping of her nails against the keyboard resonated through the tranquil office, the sole audible presence in the late evening. Past 7 pm on a Thursday, she found herself the lone inhabitant of the building's floor, her colleagues and supervisors having long departed the mundane office space. Yet, she remained, diligently working on her company-provided laptop. While she could have taken her work home and completed it before night's end, she knew that once she stepped into her apartment, her motivation would wane.

With the final paragraph taking shape on the screen, she paused briefly to flex her knuckles, reassuring herself with the mantra of just one more day. Soon, she envisioned herself on a distant beach, basking in the sun's warmth and the caress of the salty sea breeze against her skin. Returning her attention to the screen, she meticulously proofread the document, ensuring every word was correctly spelled and properly spaced, determined to evade her boss's reprimand for any hint of unprofessionalism. Releasing a small breath she was holding, staring at the blank screen, letting her work mind ease knowing one more thing on her list was done.

After saving the report and attaching it to an email, she carefully selected the recipients before hitting the send button. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she watched the blank screen, the weight of completion easing her work-weary mind. Swiftly gathering her belongings, she plugged in her laptop, tidied her desk, and emptied her trash, eager to leave the dimly lit confines of the high-rise building. As she made her way down the corridor toward the elevators, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of being alone in the building at night. Absent were the familiar sights of the cleaners or any other occupants on her floor. Assuring herself they must be elsewhere, she pressed the elevator button and waited, her gaze fixed on the descending digital display.

The mass was huge and in all the imposing presence sent a chill down her spine. The mass raised its head, green eyes, stared back at her. It shifted to the side, making room for her. She hesitantly stepped into the elevator, leaning towards the side panel to push the parking level but stopped when she noticed it was already glowing yellow. She huddled in her corner, trying to give herself enough pace between her and the huge mass next to her.

She couldn't help the feeling of uneasiness as it settled heavy in her lower stomach, it felt like she swallowed cement. Eyeing him she noticed he was wearing what looking like some sort of vest, tactical maybe? Black slacks and a long black compression shirt under the vest. He had a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face and a baseball cap on top covering up his freshly shaved head. The cap read, Security, a rushed breath of relief shot out of her. Her shoulder slumped and she began to relax as the numbers above the doors got closer and closer to the parking level.

The elevator slowed as it finally reached her destination, coming to a full stop before the last ding rang out and the doors shifted open. "Have a good night!" she sing-songed out as she exited, making her way across the desolate and dark parking level. "Good night, stay safe." his voice was a little higher pitched then she imagined it, with a hint of an accent. Her heals clicked against the concrete as she made her way across the dark and desolate parking level. Her car was right next to one of the stair wells, it being the only space available when she arrived this morning.

Digging her keys out of her purse, she hit the unlock button watching has the lights to her Lexus glowed. She walked past the stairwell door, a cold draft catching around her ankles. There were a few other cars still left on this level, she opened the back seat, setting her hand and other belongings inside. She didn't hear it right away; it wasn't until she felt the rush of air and the hard body on her back. The thick strong arms wrapping around her frame, a black leather clad hand clamping over her mouth in a bruising grip. She tried to push back and kick out but that resulted in a unhappy grunt before her head was thrusted into the roof of her car. Tears sprang to her eyes has she cried out, her delicate skin splitting open and running with blood.

The open back seat door was slammed closed, her body pressed up against it. She tried squinting through the blood and blurriness, her head was pounding, and she had a hard time thinking straight. It made her more pliable, her attacker binding her arms behind her back. Tugging tight against whatever material they were using, something was slapped over her mouth, duct tape. Her knees began to weaken as they rippling headache began to overpower all her senses. Struggling to keep her eyes open, her body getting heavy.

The unknown assailant opened the driver's door, triggering the trunk latch before forcefully shoving her inside headfirst. Bound and disoriented, she lay in darkness, attempting to orient herself as the car started its engine. Straining against the cords binding her, she only succeeded in causing further harm. With her face coated in blood and tears, she managed to peel off the duct tape with effort, her skin protesting against the sticky residue.

She was able to roll onto her back, the pressure on her bound arms became intense but she ignored it. Lifting her feet up she began banging them against the roof of her trunk. Hoping someone near by could hear it and save her. The low hum of the radio coming from the front of the car got louder, trying to drown out her attempts. She knew she could scream but she didn't want to risk her life. She's probably going to die anyways she thought, might as well try to live a little longer. Giving up she rolled to her side, she couldn't tell what way she was facing using her feet to feel around in the dark.

The drive was long, the buzz of the city fading away behind her. Wherever they were taking her was outside the city limits, beyond the river and into the forest surrounding her city. It felt like hours passed as she rocked back and forth until the car came to an abrupt stop. She listened in silence and fear as the door to the driver’s side open and closed. The sound of footsteps approaching the back of the car. She stayed still, unable to move as the dread washed over her. It felt like hours passed before the truck was opened, she squinted back at the sudden bright light flooded the dark space. Before she could register what was happening, she felt more tape being wrapped around her head, sticking to her hair and slightly cutting off her hearing. She tried to fight him off, kicking her feet out at the stranger. They grabbed on to them, using the same tape and began binding them together at the knees.

She didn't understand why this was happening to her. Why her out of the millions of people living in her city. Was the planned or just a unfortunate coincidence. Her mother always told her the city was safe for a young naïve girl like her. But her mother was crazy but maybe she was right about one thing after all. Her attacker grabbed her by the hair causing her to hiss, they pulled her out of the trunk and threw her over their shoulder. She tried looking around for any distinctive markers but all she saw was trees and blackness. She watched as her car got further and further away from her, trying to see around the huge mass.

Maybe she was happy she couldn't see, if she saw the blacked-out van with the back doors open. The wooden crate with the top off, the hard rubber cords, tape, a strange looking hood and a few knives. She might have gone into a full panic attack, instead the hood was shoved over her head. The cord wrapped around her neck to keep it on, the crate being pushed over to the side as her attacker shoved her in. She once again tried to fight back but it was pathetic. All bound up, she looked like a fish out of water, flopping around on the ground. The lid was slammed on top, the sound of hammering filling her ears. If it wasn't for the duct tape and hood over her, she would have thrown up.

The slam of the back doors jolted her, despair settling into her stomach. She tried not to think of all the horrible, disgusting, and disturbing things that would be done to her. She began praying that this was all just a very fucked up realistic dream. Closing her eyes she began repeating over and over that this was exactly that, a nightmare. And she'll wake up in her bed, in her room, in her small but cozy apartment. She'll even laugh a little about it, over and over in her head until the darkness latched itself onto her and pulled her under.

The unmarked van pulled in front of an abounded warehouse, the metal sheeting clipped and peeling away. The windows busted out and the outside marked up with spray paint. It used to serve as a wood mill until they built a bigger and better building in a more easily accessible location. The surroundings were enclosed in with an electrical fence and topped with barbwire. To keep things out and in. Situated deep in the dense forest, overlooking the glowing lights of the city.

He exited the vehicle, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. This was all rushed and unplanned, making a mental note to dispose of the car and any other evidence. He already trashed the security footage from the office building and parking garage. Rubbing the aching spot on the back of his neck, debating on just slitting her throat and dumping the body. But he's made it this far already, no time to give up now.

Swinging the back doors up to the van, looping the extra cord around the hand to the wooden box. He gave it a good yank watching it crash onto to the dirt below. He dragged it over the threshold of the warehouse, the crunch and scrap of discarded glass and other garbage. He stopped before a set of steel doors, lifting the cover to a number pad, punching in the code. Stepping off to the side as the doors hummed to life and slid open, he stepped behind the box, giving it a hard shove into the elevator shaft. Following in close behind it, reaching up to pull the grated doors down before hitting the descend button. He didn't heat any complaints coming from the box, hoping his prize is still alive inside. Once the shaft stopped and the door slid up, he stepped into the dark space. Dragging the box behind him until he reached another set of locked doors, using the key attached to his wallet he retched it open. Turning the light on to show a staircase, he gave the box a hard kick, sending it tumbling down the stairs. Hearing to shatter open before closing the door and locking it closed.

He stepped into the dark hallway, the one leading into the kitchen from the entry way. Turning on the low glow of the lights as he entered room after room. Heading straight to the sink has he turned on the garbage compactor and chucking in the cell phone from the women now in his "basement". He dumped the rest of the contents of the bag out on his island counter. Not finding anything interesting he grabbed the garbage can from under the sink and tossed all the items into it. He walked over into the next room, heading straight to the fireplace in the living room. Flicking the controls on and setting the fire to high. The flames roared to life, blanketing the drab living room in the soft warm glow. He waited for a few moments before he opened the door and tossed in the contents of the can inside.

His muscles were tight, and his head was pounding. He needed to get out of these clothes and take something before he exploded. He began undressing in the living room, taking everything off including his briefs and socks. Folding everything neatly on the ledge of the fireplace, before he opened the door up again and began tossing item by item inside, his shoes where last. Setting them atop of the wood that was flaming hot. Closing it back up and turning down the controls to low. He walked completely nude through the dimly lit home and up the stairs. Made his way down the dark hallway and into the room at the end. Turning on the light, he was standing right in front of the mirror. He looked into his eyes, looked down chiseled chest and to his now hard dick standing tall. soon. He told himself. soon.

Steam filled the small bathroom, the door still open. The glow of the bathroom cascading into the dark hallway. He let the hot water work out his stiff muscles, the temperature helping easy his hard cock back into place. Scrubbing the day off his well toned body, the dirty water flowing down his thick defined legs and into the drain. He got out quick, not bothering in turning the light off has he wiped himself off with the towel. As he walked out of the guest bathroom and into his room. Running the towel over his head and throwing it into the hamper near the walk-in closet. Stepping inside he opened his top drawer, pulling out his favourite black brief's that he had hundreds of pairs of. Pulling them over his taunt hard ass. Opening another drawer and pulling out a simple pair of black sweats and took a matching long sleeve t-shirt. Pulling them onto his body fast and making his way back downstairs.

He walked down another hallway on the opposite side of the kitchen, reaching a locked door that required his fingerprint to open. Once it did, it revealed another set of steps leading down. A few small pockets of lighting auto lit has he made his way down, the door behind him swinging shut automatically.

When he reached the bottom, more lights auto lit has he walked further into the room. Smooth metal cages lined one wall, a few already occupied while others were empty. The center of the room contained a operation table, a bright light hung above it. Another smaller examining table sat to the left of it. The shiny metal reflecting off the overhead lights. He walked up to a desk on the other wall from the cages. A large, long desk filled with different monitors, as he walked up the main screen turned on. The light casting over his face, a small window popped up and a robotic voice spoke "name". He stood there for a moment before he leaned forward towards the speaker, he opened his mouth and spoke in his odd accent.

König 6669

The computer turned off before turning back on, the main screen coming to life before his eyes. He pulled out the stool he stored under the desk. Using the mouse to click on a few tabs before he typed in some information. Within seconds pictures filled the screens, pictures of the women he had locked in his basement. He scrolled through the information, he had everything from her medical files to her school records. Having studied them intensively over the past few days. Usually this would take weeks if not months, watching their every move to make sure they were the perfect subject. But deep down in his heart, or whatever was left of it, he knew she was the one.

A small whimper caught his attention, peeling his eyes from the screen towards the wall of cages. Noticing one of his pets was awake, barely. Checking his watch and noticing it is feeding time. He got up from the chair, using his thick long legs he walked across to the medical cabinet. Opening the cupboard to reveal an array of bottles and small tinctures. Pulling one out he set it down before opening a drawer that contained syringes. He used the small sink and washed his hands, then grabbed some sterile gloves and pulled them on. He walked over to the small examining table and began laying out his supplies, using the stool as a tray he began filling up the syringes and laying them out next to one another. He wheeled it over to the cages, checking the monitors in front of each one. There as also IV bags hanging on each cage, he started with the first one. Taking a syringe and injecting the needle into the solution, watching has the clear liquid became cloudy. When he was done with the last one, he wheeled the stool over to the garbage can and tossed the contaminated items inside, taking his gloves off and throwing them in after.

The monitor he was previously at turned off as he made his way back up to the main floor.

It was time.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 53

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

That's going in the locket: chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

We talked about it all the way in August, but making creative use of Donnie's glasses has finally come to fruition! Shout out to @hijinxensues for giving me the idea even though it sort of deviated wildly...

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: slit, lips (labia kind), clit, womb, impregnation discussion, cunt, ovulation, and pregnancy scare

Scrubbing through the gentle smell of grapefruit, you were deep cleaning the kitchen. Having taken everything off the counters, it wasn’t a lengthy process. The space wasn’t large and it was probably due for this treatment more often. Donnie had some sort of machine that kept everything a base level of tidy, but there was something about getting it clean yourself.

Having someone there to pass the time with while doing it also helped tremendously.

“I’m not even his point of contact!” You huffed, polishing the faucet.

Donnie clicked his tongue.

“So now he’s imprinted on me like a baby duck and needs so much damn attention.” You hunched over the sink and blew out an annoyed breath. “That’s not how any of this works!”

“The joys of working with others.” You felt Donnie roll his eyes.

“Yeah…” Rinsing what was available down, you watched the suds go down the drain. “Got any fun Spencer stories?”

“Not in your sense.”

“You ever try to get rid of him?” You wiped up some escaped droplets.

“No.”

“That’s sort of surprising. It seemed like he drove you nuts.” Leaning back, you looked over your work.

“His disposition is not one I care for, but he is effective.”

“Gets the job done?” You turned around and studied the stove for stray particulates.

“Quite.”

“Guess who else does?” You turned and made a great show of plucking one of your gloves off.

In his spot on the couch, Donnie had long rotated his whole body to watch you. Very much in the position of an excited child, he had both his elbows craned to the armrest and supporting his head. With his noggin lolled ever so slightly to one side, he had been in nearly this same position since you started cleaning.

“Have you been watching me the whole time?” You stripped your other glove and approached.

“Yes.”

“Did I miss a spot?”

“Three.”

You doubled back to the kitchen. “Dang, where?”

“Top right of the microwave, door above the trash, and the backsplash tile one up and three to the right from the right front burner knob.”

Acute instructions, you made quick work of finding the exact dirt that had been left behind.

You heard him hum a satisfied sound.

“I’ll get you a white glove next time.” You teased, walking over a second time.

“I’ve seen that, for dust.”

“Yup.” You debated throwing your hip onto the armrest just to knock him off.

“Not a germaphobe.” He reminded you.

“Just cleanly…” You mused, remembering just the way he’d said it before you realized how it seemingly contradicted this moment. “Then why are you judging me?”

“Presumptuous.”

You narrowed your gaze. “I’d like to take my question again.

He arched an interested brow.

You squared your hips before folding over to catch the couch on either side of his arms and stare right into his face. “Then why are you watching me?”

The sprouted smile on his lips said you chose well.

You tilted your head to wait.

“Enjoying the show.”

You snorted upright. “Really?”

He nodded matter-of-factly.

Looking down at yourself, you were wearing a particularly aged set of pajamas that you didn’t mind if a stray drop of bleach got onto it. Face coated in only moisturizer, you’d barely remembered to slap deodorant on. This version of you was made for staying in and tidying up. “Uh huh…”

“Do you disagree?”

“With what?” You chuckled. “I can’t really judge what you want to pay attention to!” 

A flick of his pupils read thought. “I’ll take a second.”

You went to put the cleaning supplies away. “Go ahead.”

“Do you need reassurance?”

You bobbed where you were tossing stuff under a cabinet. “For my self-esteem? No, no. Your taste confuses me sometimes.”

“I appreciate looks just for me.”

Closing the cabinet, you lifted with a crease in your lips. “I’m sorry to say I didn’t get all dolled up for you. This fit has seen many cleaning days.”

“Done in your home.”

“I guess…” You went about putting things back on the counters.

“For comfort and yourself.”

“That’s pretty much what I said…” You placed the rice cooker.

“Ergo, a personal look.”

“Sure.” You shook your head, not seeing his point.

“Only for you, happenstance for me.”

You took a step towards him, but didn’t leave the threshold of the kitchen. “You’re saying you like it because it’s only for me, but you get to peek behind the curtain since we live together?”

His snout twitched as he hadn’t liked your wording. “In a way.”

“Stolen moments that should be for me?” You tried something in his flavor.

A lift of brows said it was savored.

“You voyeur you!” You feigned a scandalous gasp and headed around the perimeter to see if anything needed dusting.

You heard the couch cushions shift as he openly tracked you.

“Not bad…” You peeked around the back of the TV to find it tidy. “I guess that was it since I did the bathroom a few days ago.”

Donnie didn’t make a sound and you circled the couch just to see how far he’d go. In your periphery, you watched him turn all the way around until he was looking over the back of the sofa at you.

“Smell check.” You approached him and held out a hand.

His head lowered, but his gaze sat narrowly into your eyes. “Satisfactory.”

“Your new cleaning solution is a hit then.”

“Already passed to marketing.”

You hummed faint interest and purposefully headed into the bedroom.

You felt him at a nervous attention behind you.

“Might change…” You spoke and tried to keep your voice even.

Silence bore into your back.

“Kinda restless…” You pretended to mourn your day off and headed out of his sight toward the dresser.

Within seconds, his presence chased you.

Sensing he’d stopped, you spun around with fake claws out. “Gotcha!”

He didn’t jump, but made a little curious trill at your act.

“You’re not just watching, you’re staring!”

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and then back down to you as if he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“You’re avoiding talking because I’ll catch one of your terrible lies.” You hung your head to one knowledgeable side.

Caught with a soft squeak, he puffed his cheeks out guilty before returning his gaze to you.

“Now that I’m thinking about it, even this morning: when I woke up you were already there looking at me.”

He sighed, put out. “Memory.”

You tilted your head in wait.

You watched the move strike him as adorable and he had to shake off its subduing quality.

Your smile grew especially fond.

He gave a sharp exhale to recompose himself before looking you over. “It appears our puppy love phase is beginning to pass.”

“What!?”

He held up a hand. “From what I’ve read, that is how these things progress. The names are inexact, but it gives away to mature love. I only wish to encapsulate this moment.”

You stared.

“There are benefits to both, but the change has made me unsettled among other things…” His gaze slid to the side. “I do not want things to remain the same, but I’m struggling with the rapid pace.”

In a single step, you were buried into his torso.

He stood with his arms out to accommodate you before tenting his limbs around you. “I do not require consolation.”

You shook your head, scrubbing into his plastron. “I disagree.”

He squeezed your shoulder in a fold. “No, I feel relatively stable. I would only prefer to continue my vigil.”

“Not that.” You lifted enough so your chin was still buried in his chest, but you could look up at him. “I still have a massive crush on you.”

He blinked down his body at you, eyes wide.

“Obviously I don’t know what the future holds with us, but, right now, I’m living it up. I have you, life’s been going well, I’m terrified to jinx it, but I’m happy.”  

“Paramount...” He spoke with softness and traced a careful finger against your head.

You ducked and spoke into his plastron. “Also, there’s no restrictions on our love. I’m not sure what you read, but there should have been something about everyone being different.”

You felt him nod.

“What triggered this?” You appeared only to check on him. “Mikey?”

Donnie put on what almost seemed like a face plate of disgust.

You squeezed him tighter.

“I’d prefer you to note Hypno. Once is a coincidence, twice however”

“How I’ve been texting new people?”

“It sets a record of seeking companionship in others as mine isn’t as alluring.” He forced himself to watch you even though his cheeks took on color.

“Silly man.” You freed him so you could pull him down.

He came with ease and butted up against your head.

You held him in place to furiously nuzzle him until he gave a relenting puff of laughter. “Friends are different and you have no reason to be jealous.”

“I’m not.” He pulled back enough to look you sternly in the eye. “Removing how I would never consider those two threats in that regard, I don’t consider it such.”

“Then what is it?”

He hummed. “Not self-loathing, but that I might no longer have the same command of intrigue.”

You paused and looked away through recent memories before returning. “Because you’ve let me top? Because you’re running out of secrets?”

His cheeks turned several more shades and his lips quivered into an upset line.

“Donatello…”

He surfaced a little at the use of his full name.

“I love you.” You found his cheek and brushed it. “There’s no grand reveal. You’ll never run out of new things for me to find interesting about you. I’ll never know everything because we’re different people and we’re always changing and growing. Just like how you keep finding things out about yourself.”

You watched him process the information with a growing gleam to his eye. Washed out by it, he gave a quick screwed shut close before his lips parted. “I…”

Your heart bypassed whatever stop point was in your throat and seemed to only be caught by your skull.

“I…” He tried again, taking a deep breath.

You hadn’t told him.

You hadn’t mentioned you knew he was practicing.

That lately you’d forced yourself to stay awake every night to hear his exercise in confessions.

“Lo-“ His entire being twitched and unsteady hands caught your arms to hold on.

You shifted to hold his biceps and resisted with your entire being to interrupt him.

He knew.

He knew he didn’t have to.

You didn’t need to remind him.

He needed this chance.

Twine breaking, he wilted with an exhale that kept going on and on.

You slid past his arm to rub his carapace, soothingly. “I love you.”

“Making fun.” He tucked into your throat before nosing to your mating mark.

“Am not.” You leaned your head against his.

He snorted his disagreement and kissed through your shirt to his possession.

“You did good. I’m proud of you.”

“That must be ridicule.” He extracted himself and huffed to the air.

“I’m not!” You bumped him with your weight.

He looked down with a certain level of mirth.

“You know…” You led, tilting down before realizing you weren’t wearing it. “Can I…?”

He released you with a sweeping gesture.

You gave a similarly played up bow before going to grab your necklace. “I’ve never been able to decide on a picture for this.”

“We’ve taken many.”

“And they’re good, but not like… good enough!” You pouted and thumbed over the item so it would open. “I thought of maybe snipping off part of your mask tails while you were sleeping.”

He chuffed into a chuckle.

“They're a dime a dozen though. You’ve got tons.” You sighed. “Getting professional photos could be fine. We should get some sometime, but that’s not what I want for this.”

“Is this one of those ‘you’ll know it when you see it’ type of situation?”

“Yes!” You turned to him with a tinkling as the locket swung in your grasp.

“Not professional…?” He folded his hand over his chin and lips in thought.

“It’s gotta be candid. I wish I could have caught one of those laughs of yours!”

“Shall we discuss a trade with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. for security footage?”

Your gaze dulled. “Not this again.”

Donnie mirrored you. “He has yet to relent.”

Ever since getting his new body, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had been having a blast shoving his way into society. Something you happily indulged in as his joy seemingly knew no bounds, it was his current route that neither you nor Donnie wanted to partake in. While he considered himself a New Yorker in a literal born and bred sort of sense, he lamented particular parts of the city he supposedly missed. No matter how much his father or you tried to persuade him otherwise, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.

He wanted to act like a tourist and go through the quintessential New York City spots.

Time’s Square was a useless blinking beacon that offered absolutely nothing by way of a local.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. reveled in the thought of the grime and gawk.

The beauty of the Empire State building was best seen from a distance.

Even with the funds to skip the line, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. insisted the two minutes enjoying the view would be worth it.

The only real unbelievable thing about Madame Tussauds was the stale smell.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. figured this was his only chance to get a photo with a famous person.

“I keep telling him I’ll do Junior’s and that’s it.” You grumbled.

“Why he continues to want to go to restaurants is beyond me.” Donnie looked close to leaving his body.

“We’re not doing that.”

“Never.”

You cracked a smile at the camaraderie and moved to plop down on the bed with your necklace still in hand. “Hey, Mr. Voyeur.”

“Rejected pseudonym.”

You chuckled. “They were your cameras first right?”

“Yes.” He lazily approached.

“Have you always liked to watch?”

His gaze narrowed with faint ire. “It’s not about watching. It’s about knowledge.”

“Except with me. Right now.”

“Memory is a form of knowledge.” He argued.

“I’m saying…” You leaned out, biting your tongue lightly at the precarious nature and tried to tap him with your foot. “You want to watch and I want a candid pic of you.”

He stepped close enough so your toe would connect with his leg. “New cameras?”

“Not for forever, I’m still not completely okay with the ones watching us here. Something… I don’t know… Maybe a 24 hour thing? Could be fun. Pretend we’re on a reality TV show.”

Donnie’s beak scrunched.

“Candid!” You complained, letting your leg drop. “Don’t act… Oh! I know…” You lowered your lids and beckoned him.

He came with an unimpressed air.

You urged him to kneel and he did so with a kiss pressed to your knee.

Flushing lightly, you dipped your fingers under his chin.

“How about this? The footage will be yours to do with as you wish. Every second…” With a purse of your lips you coaxed him closer. “No matter what we do…”

You watched his pupils adjust as he considered the possibility. “Clarification: you’re suggesting we make a sex tape?”

Your digits twitched away from him and your cheeks darkened. “Not on purpose, but if it happens during that time period…”

“If that’s allowed, it will occur.” A faint churr husked his voice

“It is.”

You were pinned with him hovering above you before you could blink. “But what you’re offering…”

You stared up at him with your heart thudding out your chest. “You miss me a lot while I’m at work, don’t you?”

A possessive churr rolled out of him as he dropped to kiss you into the mattress.

You allowed him and meant for the moment to extend except he hoisted himself up and away. “You confirm this?”

“Yes.” You tugged lightly at his arms.

He only gave you a wry glance. “Save it. Can we commence tomorrow?”

You threw your head back knowing you’d already lost him to science. “How? You already have cameras?”

“No, but a simple build. If I start now, I can have at least five done by the end of day.”

“Five?!”

“Angles!” He cheered, extracting himself from the bed. “Free roving, covert, but with a certain level of intelligence…”

He continued to list factors and you sighed with a little needy wiggle into the sheets.

-

As promised, before bed you were introduced to five small purple UFOs. All hovering silently and barely as big as baseballs, their flying saucer like bases were topped with tiny domes that Donnie explained housed cameras with a full range of motion. Something about focal lengths and zooms, the camera jargon went over your head as you took a step. The entire army turned with your attention and you wondered what you had gotten yourself into.

“When fully active they will attempt to stay out of sight.” Donnie continued on, nonplussed.

“What are they set to right now?” You waved your hand at one to see if you could notice camera movement.

It betrayed little.

“Demonstration.” Donnie mused. “Shall I start them so you can see?”

“No, that’s… that’s alright.”

“Having second thoughts?” He stepped forward with a cautious guard.

“Huh?” You looked at him. “No, I just… It’s strange, your creations usually have so much life.”

Donnie’s brow furrowed.

“B.E.D.F.A.S.T. has a personality. Even the entire system under Darling Protocol seems sassy like you.”

Though it made little sense to him, he settled at your explanation. “They are me.”

“Yeah…” You stepped close to the camera bots and held out a hand to take one.

It came so you cradle it like a floating balloon just above your palm. The others rotated to monitor their brethren.

“It’s hard to describe, but I’m not getting much off these guys.”

Donnie stepped up to your side. “They’re rudimentary. Little directive.”

You hummed faint interest and reached above with your other hand to touch the bot.

It dodged you only enough to back into a formation of sorts.

“Oops…”

“They’re protecting their shells from fingerprints.” Donnie explained, intently watching you. “Are you sure this is alright?”

“Yes.” You let your arms fall. “I’m all in. I’m also wondering how it’ll feel, being watched all day.”

“Precisely why you won’t see them. It’ll be as if they aren’t there.”  

You quirked a smile, still staring at the squad. “You better not play up your reactions.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Donnie murmured, getting close. “I’m sure you’ll get your photo.”

You settled into his touch. “Start the clock before we wake up.”

“Oh?” He rumbled into the shell of your ear.

You nodded. “Can’t wait to show you how you toss and turn.”

He snorted minor irritation and you chased after him in jest.

-

You sort of thought it was going to be a bigger thing. Waking before Donnie in what you imagined was anticipation, you kept waiting for it to be. You’d risen slowly and rubbed your eyes in a way you imagined happened in cartoons. Too aware of yourself for your own good, you examined the empty expanse of the apartment. True to his words, you didn’t see the cams, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent most of the morning trying to capture them.

Spinning around without warning and jumping across thresholds, you’d even flicked water everywhere while washing your face to try to catch a glimpse of one. All for nothing and with a minor scolding from Donnie, you slowly forgot they were there around the point the two of you had planned a lunch in the park. Something where you purchased a packed lunch from a local shop that specializes in it, your partner laid out a thick blanket of his design. Something that would supposedly deter bugs, had waterproof layering, and was downy against the cold grass. The weather was shiny and bright, if not chilly, but comfortable as you shared a thermos.

The ensuing walk afterwards had been something particularly cute after you found some stray leaves lined up on a bridge. Remembering something from your childhood, you wove a couple into a tiny vessel and dropped it down to the water. Landing a little on its side, the leaf raft righted itself to float. Turning your excitement on Donnie, you were soon going back and forth creating boats until some children joined in. Encouraging them along, one in particular stared at Donnie.

Not unaccustomed to that type of attention, Donnie had tried to urge the child to return to his friend, but the kid only hugged a toy he was lugging around closer. Your boyfriend looked to you for help, but you were busy supervising two other boys who seemed to be looking for an excuse to quarrel. Donnie soon relented by stooping to the boy’s level in more ways than one and asking him if there was something he wanted.

The child thought it over for a minute before holding his toy out.

Donnie received it with a furrowed brow and watched on, growing more perplexed as the kid then spun around to join his friends in making leaf boats.

Turning the bulky action figure over, Donnie sought you with his eyes.

You met them and signed to him to keep it safe.

Realizing he’d been chosen for such a heroic mission touched your mate.

Hitting some fierce part inside of him, he showed great care in executing his task and it was only then you remembered the cameras. Pleading that they had captured the expression on his face when he’d seen the truth of the matter, you watched Donnie dote on the toy until the boys lost interest. The figure was returned to its rightful owner and with some half-hearted thank yous, the two of you were on your own once again.

Strolling around a winding path, you caught Donnie checking his palms a few times.

“Was it sticky?” You asked, knowing full well that wasn’t the worry.

“Disinfectant would be appreciated.” He clasped a tight fist.

“Good job.” You brushed your arm against his. “My protector.”

“I wasn’t protecting you.” He hummed a correction.

“Ah, you can only handle one at a time. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hardly.” He rolled his eyes to you.

“Let’s get ice cream.”

“It’s freezing.” He sneered.

“So? I want to shove a cone in your face.”

“Ah, yes. That changes everything. Let me amend…” He held suspense.

You slowed to watch him.

“Ab-so-lute-ly not.” He enunciated loudly.

“You never let me do anything fun.” You threw a dramatic hand over your eyes.

“Rolled ice.”

You peeked from under your limb. “Hm?”

“Dragon’s breath.”

“And now you’re saying words.” You brought your arm down.

He shook his head and unearthed his phone. He came near to show you as he pulled up a texting window with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Speed reading as he scrolled, your heart warmed at how casual their conversation seemed. It felt like how a father and son would text and you imagined the thread itself was not something that had existed long.

Clicking an indiscriminate link, a video loaded and talked up a new shop in the area. A delight of pastels and misty pourings of liquid nitrogen, it showed rose petal sheets of ice cream being scooped into cups and topped with various sweets.

“What, that’s cool!”

“Terrible pun.” Donnie remarked, staring to catch the address and then switching to a map app to make sure he knew how to get to the shop.

“I didn’t mean it.” You pouted.

“Sixteen minute walk?” He asked, ignoring your plight.

“Sure.” You perked up.

Adjusting the roll of the blanket in its satchel form around his body, Donnie put his phone away and led. Walking beside him and talking through something with hand gestures about paper airplanes you and some friends had made as kids, the chill got hold of your nose. The first sign of something deeper, you rubbed your sleeve to the tip in an attempt to stave it off.

Arriving at the shop found it to be one without seating, but walking in was welcomed warmth. Not as toasty as it could be for its produced product, the otherwise bored employees perked up at your arrival. You chatted casually with the two about the viral video as you got something with those rose florets you had seen. With a drizzle of cream and sprinkles, you were passed your treat along with a flat sort of spoon. Sneaking a bite before paying, you heard Donnie repeat his earlier medieval phrasing and eyed the girls as they laughed about his choice in this weather.

Taking it in stride, he snuck a glance at you while the spoon was between your lips. You smiled coyly around it and he cocked a smug brow that made you curious what he was up to. The employees went through motions getting a cup, but turned around to some sort of specialized machine to make whatever he had ordered. Pouring liquid nitrogen and watching waves of flicking steam drift off, Donnie was soon passed a bunch of cute pastel orbs. He felt no need to examine them and instead chose to pay and walk out of the store with you trailing behind.

“What is that?” You asked genially and flinched as the cold outside was starting to match your innards.

“Cereal.” He spoke simply.

“How?” From the overflowing pile, they looked more like huge candy colored cheese puffs. 

Not giving an answer and instead a demonstration, Donnie lifted a long toothpick in hand. A sort of skewer, he stabbed into the top most green ball and lifted it to his overly widened mouth. Staring down his maw as he chomped down on it. He glinted you a knowing smile before he exhaled.

Smoke forced itself out of the cracks of his mouth and leaked little steam from his nostrils as he chewed.

“Wha…?”

“The name denotes the reaction.” He explained having downed the first.

“I wanna try!”

He held out a skewered ball to you.

Biting down, it had a subdued flavor, but your gaze flew around at the smoke you produced.

Laughing in what you imagined was hearty puffs, you switched back to your ice cream as Donnie nibbled on his. Taking multiple at a time, he teased you with a growl. It was hard to pretend to be scared when he concocted ferocious imagery. Something you’d once thought came from an inferno, he always subverted expectations. Whittling down the cauldron that gave him potion based powers, he quieted into a foggy calm.

By the time you found the bottom of your cup, you were shivering.

Waiting for your partner to mention it, he only offered to toss your trash and continued to walk down the sidewalk. Tucking in near him, but not quite touching, you closed up your body in an attempt to preserve the little warmth you had left. Watering down what was already rationed, there was nothing to sustain the move. You went to telegraph this to Donnie, but found him making a clear left.

Chasing behind and hearing a rattle as your teeth tried to chatter, you squeezed down on your jaw. Enough that it waned the muscle, but stopped the involuntary movement, you worried that it was getting hard to translate your discomfort. He’d usually have noticed by now and would have switched to doting. As far as you could recall, you hadn’t done anything to upset him and seeing you afflicted probably wasn’t the sort of photographs he wanted.

It made little sense, but rationalizations were quickly falling off as you could only think about how your marrow was solidifying. Cold taking over your mind, you imagined burying into your partner's large coat and him wrapping you up in it. It was the action that you found growing more difficult by the second. You needed a bump to get through even making those dreams a reality. Summoning the little strength you had left, you meant to use it to rub your arms down enough so you could interpret your discomfort, but you found Donnie was outpacing you by several steps.

Opening your mouth to call to him only revealed the chattering teeth toy in your mouth.

You were forced to use your reserves to catch up with him. 

“This way.” Donnie spoke an icy breeze.

Keep up.

Cold.

Too fast.

Cold.

Right turn.

Cold.

It was too much and the threat of hot tears instead felt like ice cubes ready to be dispensed by a noisy fridge. You pulled desperately at your thin scarf. Not enough to capture your thin breath, the moisture you generated with it against your lips only served to further chill your skin. Lagging more and more behind, you unearthed your hands into the icy burn and tapped your cheeks.

You couldn’t feel them.

Flexing your fingers in case it was them, you caught how nail beds had paled in a worrying way.   

That was bad.

Having hit your human limit, you stared helplessly at your partner’s casual form a little too far in front of you.

“D-D-D-D-” You clattered.

“Up ahead.” He gestured.

Where?

You couldn’t look.

You could make out little past him.

You weren’t in actual danger.

You knew that.

Cold’s clutches were dramatic.

You’d enter some warm building and washing your hands would sting.

You’d be fine.

That still didn’t help the persistence of the chill.

It demanded attention in a different way then heat did.

Heat lapped at you.

Heat held a sweaty grip and wrung you out.

True cold hit like a freight.

As soon as you were past the point of no return, it was all consuming.

Heat took its time boiling you alive.

Cold wanted you to know every agonizing second.

Even if you couldn’t feel it.

“You first.” Donnie held a door.

You refused to let your limbs leave the safety of your body and waddled inside like the penguin you now were.

Warmth holding her arm’s out for a lover’s embrace, you threw yourself into it and gasped to get that heat inside you.

It entered along with a familiar musk.

You blinked past freeze to take in the space.

It was the bottom floor of your apartment building.

Spinning around to Donnie, he was just inside with the door closed behind him.

“W-w-we’re h-home?”

He stood an odd withheld and his gaze hard trained on you. 

“W-w-what?”

“Elevator, now.” He swept past you, all coat, as he slammed the key with enough force that you thought the button would break.

Shuffling up behind him, he was bouncing irritation as it arrived.

“Go.” He growled, staring forward and you lumbered past him into the box. Only then did he step in and slam the panel. Again imagining broken keys in his wake, the ride up was a taunt one. Your partner seemed to be all fury and if it was because you neglected to tell him your state, it seemed like an odd reaction.

Wouldn’t warming you up come first?

He could complain after setting things right.

That’s what he normally did.

Sinking as much into your coat as it would allow, your skin resisted the temperature change. Too slow to thaw, you settled into a minor shake and hoped the vibrations would be enough to crack the ice. Arriving at your floor before they could, this time you were the first in motion to keep another demand off his lips. You beat him to the apartment where the door unlocked and you slipped stinging fingers around the knob.

It opened with the clunk of the mechanism which sounded particularly sharp to your numb ears.

Pushing into the apartment, you assumed its differential was probably a pleasant one, but it still hadn’t reached you. You needed to be buried in blankets now; a shower could come later. You were rushing toward the bedroom when your partner caught you.

A scalding wrap, you squeaked out of concern. “D-Donnie?!”

“Idiot.” He hissed and pressed the whole of his body against the back of yours.

“M-mean-!” You had so many more complaints, but the effort of them was an iceberg on your tongue.

“Stupid, stupid…” He grumbled and shoved a hand down into your coat.

You whimpered waiting for his icy clutches, but found his appendage held a tidy warmth. “Wha…?”

Swiping up and then back down, he got through your next two layers until his hot hand found your skin. There he flattened out his palm and rubbed furiously.

You moaned in delight and threw your head back into him. “Warm…”

He said nothing more as his other scalding hand caught yours. Focusing on friction, he continued to rub heavily against your skin until your jacket slacked. Zipper forced down from the ministrations, your muscles had relaxed to the point where it threatened to slip off. Melding to your partner as if he was the key to the furnace, you attempted to turn.

Instead of something smooth, he swallowed you up. His mouth, something scorching, didn’t bother kissing you and acted as you thought his foreshadowing should. Not ice, but fire, he breathed the hot smoke that suffocated your lungs. It spoke of his starvation meant to eat you and you became the storied damsel with no means of rescue.

You had protests once, you thought.

Long ago, in the cold times, there had been something.

He was mad.

That was his fault, wasn’t it?

No, you’d asked for ice cream.

No, he’d walked that absurd route home.

It was something long and twisting, far from a normal route.

How long had it been?

You’d taken public transit hadn’t you?

It all seemed so long ago, like asking someone to recall the specifics from childhood.

There were feelings.

You hadn’t been cold then.

That was one.

However long, it was a duration where only just now after several long minutes of scrubbing that you start to make out the threads in Donnie’s sweater.

Something plush and easy to sink into, it held delicious body heat.

Not anything artificial, that life blood boil kept you moving.

You could figure out the bad feelings later.

Whether it be to push all the blame or take part.

You could settle for a participation trophy.

For now, he was doing an excellent job of making up for it.

Enough so that your out of body experience was one that had you hovering around. A dart and dash to capture all angles, you watched him squeeze and grab your body like it were dough needing gluten development. Your coat had long fallen to the floor and your outer layer was working its way to be the next. His hands maneuvered an internal path, only paying mind to keep from shoving the fabrics up and exposing you.

You were something to behold, something to covet and not for the cameras. At least not yet, as your hands dug with their newfound life into his lapels. You must have grabbed, from the angle it was squished between your body and unseen, but it forced Donnie to take only a momentary step back.

Palms appearing in one of the few flashes of skin, you pushed his coat clean off his shoulders. Arms akimbo caught it and his arms swooped to catch something. Only a momentary dip, he flicked back to let his coat drop before he was back on you. Passing something into your hands like a secret agent, he moved further with this mission of pillaging your very soul, he tended to the tiny embers that had begun to glow. Adding a nest of wood shavings and blowing in desperation, you came alive with a weak flame.

Whatever he’d given had a latent heat. 

A squeeze found it to be hand warmers. 

That was why his hands had scalded you. 

You might have been upset on what he’d held out on if ecstasy hadn’t had you twisting the white packets between your fingers. 

By the time feeling returned to your nose, you were dragged back into your body. Blinking through your new perspective, you found him laving at your neck and pouring his heat directly into your carotid artery. Something the clean opposite of vampiric, he was your victim and you were the one siphoning away his existence without effort. It was only a momentary stoking of some ancient hunger, but you were thankful for his sacrifice. Wanting to give him a paltry gift in exchange, you pecked his cheek.

His head came away in a stark contrast of stillness as his hands continued their plight. He found your eyes through his watery one and you wondered what he had to cry about. Giving him another quick kiss to about the same spot, he offered a smile. Feeling the edges of returning it, he sealed his mouth over yours properly.

The first probably since you’d left the house, it stalled his hands. It left both of you suspended, tethered to only one spot before all at once you melted together. Heat catching up in a desert gust, you were both moving now. Slipping through your fingers like articles of clothing, you needed those silly barriers keeping your bodies apart gone.

The true warmth could only be found there and you needed it welded to you. It’d come off him in sticky waves even through the unrelenting press of his plastron. Something wholly him and only his, you pulled a little too hard on an upswing against his sweater. Cooked delirium from the wildly shifting temperatures meant you momentarily forgot his height and the momentum toppled you.

In a feral crouch, he came around you with a hand cradled to save your head. You languished in his hold, eyes beaming trust up at him that he clearly didn’t think he deserved. In a form of shame, he ducked down into the rest of you that had hit the icy floor and scooped you up. Curling into him and wishing he could realize this was the solution, you were soon tossed in similarly chilled sheets. Whining your displeasure, he crawled up, your space heater, to root around it and you.

It amounted to kicking the sheets free and tangling the blanket around your hips. Catching him on a round, you pulled him back to you where he held little chirping protests as he hadn’t finished building his nest. You could tell him that he mattered more warmth why, but instead you buried your face into his clavicle. His upper plastron bit your chin, but you scrubbed with understanding about why he’d favored your neck so. It was a hotbed and you nosed it for your comfort as his hands groped your neglected legs.

Hiking them high around him, he tucked your knees to his sides and folded his arms over them as he worked. It was an attention to detail that you adored as he directed your legs downward into the spiral of linens. 

You needed him pressed to your torso.

You needed his heart close to yours.

Life blood to life blood.

The exchange wasn’t one that was near complete.

Flexing your thighs, you found you could create a friction against the warmth of his shell by rubbing the hinge. A sort of flammable firmness, you rocked your knees as if pedaling some unseen bike. A contraption jerry-rigged to create electricity, it was meant to be stored, but it seemed to be lost to the chemical reaction. Mourning it, you folded your shins around his carapace, trying to trap what you could. It pulled the him that was stroking down your legs forward and he allowed himself to fall into your space. Squished pleasantly under his weight and warmth, you moaned a satisfaction as this was an approximation of what you were looking for.

Something all encompassing and not going away, you abandoned where your hands were searching for momentary reprieve and enveloped him. Trying your best to hold him in place with your limbs, he puffed hot air against your cheek and dotted kisses to your hairline. It helped to an extent, but the damn scales of the universe tipped as keeping him there meant your limbs were now exposed. Whining as you couldn’t fathom a solution that didn’t leave some part of you wanting, Donnie pulled away.

You nearly sobbed as a chill ran over your preheated body.

He chirped a wobbly response back that spoke of bitter duty.

Leaving the bed entirely, he left you to curl up and try to absorb the far too little heat he had left you with. It meant a pathetic roll side to side in a fetal position. Your knees held the most of him and you tried to press that straight into your heart. Not making the same connection, a rapid padding said your mate returned and you made a sorry mewl to call him.

He made sound after sound of reassurance as he caught hold of your knees. He might have rolled you onto your back and split them had you not immediately fallen open waiting for him. Tucking his torso back between your legs, he encouraged you to return your limbs. Knowing the cost of that, you resisted faintly, until he insisted. Giving in and wrapping around him, he swooped his arm back and pulled something.

A huge blanket appeared in a tidal wave and crashed somewhere above your head.

Now plunged into a form of darkness, you jostled quietly as Donnie resumed his stroking. Again warmth blossomed and the cover caused a soft echo of his breath. Not something you could see, but tangible nonetheless, each puff entered the trap. A new source of heat, it bathed you until no part of you was left without.

Mercury hitting an acceptable level, you tugged your partner from his duty. He came with reluctance, little squeaks that said there was more to do until you found his mouth with a few open swipes. Teeth clinking in hunger, he found a new way to soothe you and let a metered amount of weight sink you into the bed. Something simple, but delicious, you moaned against his lips.

He swallowed it up and gave you more with the push of his tongue. An even exchange, you drank him in with minor wiggles as you wanted more of him. He obliged, placing small amounts on the scales until your rib cage protested and threatened your air. Another thing you stole from him, you settled with thinking that for now it would do until you could find some way to subvert the alarm.

Wrapped up in every sense of the word, kisses petered off until you simply had your mouths together for the sake of the intimacy. You grew drowsy in the embrace and from the very exertion of being cold. That shaking now a foreign thing, you broke the lip lock only because your neck went slack. Sleep whispering in your ear, you coaxed your mate closer. He came, burying his head beside yours so you could lean against him. Settling like that until you could feel the breath that lifted and animated his frame, you were about to commit to a nap when your lips moved against it.

“What happened?”

You didn’t really want to know.

You wanted to sleep.

“The usual.” He mumbled into the sheets. “Messed up.”

“You or me?” You vaguely remembered him being mad.

He gave a deep sigh before he rose up.

Your eyes had adjusted and you could see the faint lines of his features.

“A last minute addition to our plans.”

“Hm?”

“You asking for ice cream. I initially rejected the idea… until I came up with another.”

“Dragon’s breath.” You remembered.

He shook his head, heavy with guilt. “I realized I could make you cold.”

You squinted, trying to parse out what you were missing.

“If you were chilled…” He lowered to nose your cheek. “You’d want me more. Imagine you needy on film. Desperately clinging as I warmed you up inside and out.”

The word ‘film’ momentarily struck you as odd, until the point of the day crashed around you. “Oh shit, the cameras.” Your gaze darted around the blanket and you reached up to knock it off. “We can still-!”

He caught your hand and pressed a heated kiss to your knuckles. “None of that.”

“But…”

“I took it too far. Misjudged your tolerance.”

You peeled your fingers free to curl over his. “I kept waiting for you to notice. I thought you were mad at me.”

His lips parted slow. “Mad at myself. It became imperative to get you upstairs and back to a safe temperature as quickly as possible. That is all I care about.”

“Aren’t I one now?” You shifted and found you were straddling him high around the middle point of his plastron.

“I haven’t taken a reading in awhile…” He extracted an arm from where it was buried beside you and a screen projected out of his tech gauntlet. “You’re doing better.”

“Feels like it.”

“Rest.” He urged, turning the hologram off and moving to tuck his body back against yours.

You lay there, wide awake for a long moment. Flipping back and forth over whether to be annoyed with him or yourself, your body simply refused to hold that kind of heat.  Whether it was something you gave away, you didn’t know, but it all seemed a typical sort of plight. Donnie miscalculating and you relying too much on him to solve them, you weren’t used to these mistakes, per say, but it showed there was always room to grow. You would continue to learn to navigate one another.

If he’d stopped a few minutes earlier, his plan would have worked.

If you had pushed instead of waiting, you could have fine tuned it.

You were always better together when honest. 

Squirming a little under the guise of adjustment, you went back through his scheme. He had been right that being chilled meant you only wanted his hands on you. The desire to heat your frozen body had added a new layer to his touch. It had only passed the point of being sexual and instead became some delirious need. Something desperate, in your current, comfortable state it was easier to see the desire.

It was the way he’d worded it.

It was the steam emitting from his dragon’s breath.

It was an injection of heat inside you.

The confused reaction skin had to touching something as cold as liquid nitrogen.

The point where temperature reversed and ice scalded.

Chewing your lip, you made a calculated twitch of your hips.

Where you held him, you felt Donnie give a minor tense as if afraid he’d woken you.

He had, but not in the way he imagined.

Something akin to a questioning prodding, you rocked a few centimeters back and forth.

“Y/N…” He wondered, emerging from his ostrich’s hole. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m still cold.”

His body seized with a sort of fear before he kicked into action. “Where? Is it your feet? Let me get-”

You caught his shoulders and locked your legs. “Here. I’m cold here.” With the new leverage you ground your core into the flat of his plastron.

He gave a little churr of interest. “Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Weren’t you tired...?” He murmured and nuzzled into the side of your head.

“I liked your plan.”

“Nonsense.” He puffed with displeasure.

“I did.” This time you bucked your hips.

He eyed you with a wary edge.

“It makes sense, especially after yesterday.”

His head lowered, but his eyes were trained on you.

“Wanting me.” You tilted your head so your mouthpiece aligned with his. “Worried about your place in my world. What better way to soothe that then by having me need you in a way that only you can provide?”

“I only pushed you to the brink of hypothermia to satisfy something we already labeled as unfounded.”

“Then why today? Why the cameras? It was never unfounded. We were using logic to help soothe you.”

“I do enjoy data collection…” He gave off an irritated aura at his own proclivities.

“Then collect more. Listen. What am I saying?”

He relented against what you assumed were bitter voices in his head.

There were no angels and devils there.

There was will to survive and protection.

The latter of which was the loudest.

It went about it in the only way it knew how.

It was learning otherwise, but some days it fell back on old habits.

They did die hard.

“That you’ve said, today and before, how much you desire me and currently I’m neglecting a very obvious request.”

You nodded, still waiting for him to meet your lips. “I’m 100% sure, no rounding up or anything.”

“No one is that sure of anything.”

“Guess I’m still your anomaly then.”

He chuffed and it felt like his final restraint laxed. His drawbridge then lowered and docked against your mouth. Kissing him to drive your point home, he melded to you in a new way. Dragging his body up while simultaneously bringing his head down to maintain the connection, you were soon wrapped just above the swell of his hips. An angle he controlled, he rolled the bottom half of his plastron to your sex and your leaked breath interrupted the kiss.

Renewing his stroke with a rutting angle, he parted your lips and pressed firm to your center. It garnered gasps until steam turned the blanket into a sauna. He refused more than a gentle friction, so you protested by raising your pleading voice. It only saturated the damp air further until it clung, ready to form droplets on your skin.

He wanted you needy.

Despite his protests, his goal was steadfast.

That absurd contrast in him went against all reason and yet he refused to abandon what his heart truly wanted.

That was why you were together.

The throb that thought sent through you caused you to shove upward with all your might.

It startled a squeak out of him and his shoulders bobbed to force the blanket free.

Watching it cascade down your partner like some gorgeous purple waterfall, he appeared a stunning statue in the light and warmth of the apartment. Where you thought a moment of chill would pass, the space was long baked and little tufts of heat said the vents were pointed in your direction. All things controlled by his mind on a near unconscious level, you pulled him back down to you to translate your awareness.

If he had a thought to pull the fabric back up, you kissed the idea out of him.

Temperature regulated, you only needed one thing and it was bound to push the needle in the opposite direction.

Residual tension melted off of him and he was soon trekking down your hips. First ghosting over your legs with some calculation, you moved ready beneath him as he stroked your skin. Thumb found muscle and he massaged into it until you were further pliant. It meant he had something big planned and you chirped against his mouth with hopes that it said you were getting impatient.

“Need to work you up…” He breathed fire that shot straight through your form.

“I’m pretty sure you’re good on that front.” Your lids lowered to break his resolve.

You earned a rueful peck. “I can tell.”

You squirmed, long knowing you were leaking down your own leg, but wondering how he felt it through his plastron.

Catching your eye and then sending his down for you to follow, you watched him rise up where you’d made a slick mess of the stiff surface and it splattered down to presumably drip off him.

You let your head fall back and stared up snide at the ceiling. “How the hell do you do this to me and still think we’re anywhere near passed puppy love!?”

He smiled brightly overhead and you wanted to kick him for how genuine it was.

Puffing your cheeks out, he kissed each air sac happily before getting his knees under him. It removed him completely where he’d been using gravity to grind and now you felt the cold nip at your boiling sex. Arching because of it, he attempted to soothe you by rolling his palms into the thick of your thigh.

“Wrong place…” You grumbled.

“Preparation, my darling.”

“You plan on sharing this time?” You fought against your lids falling at the massage.

“I’ll need your honest reaction.” He spoke with a tinge of worry. “I can share your need to stretch.”

“A new position?” You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“No guessing.” He grinned and turned his gaze down to where he was working your legs.

“It’s a new position.” You giggled.

He chuffed and switched his grip so it was cuffing the top of your leg. Manipulating your spread, you were split further and your hips went to complain.

“Uh…!”

“You see why?” He remarked without actually wanting an answer.

You nodded, nervous, and he rotated his grip again until his thumbs were pressed to the waning muscles that joined your legs to your pelvis. Moving with precision, he rubbed the groups gathered there until one by one they eased.

“Can you roll onto your side?” He relinquished your left hip signaling that was the one he wanted you to turn.

“Sure.” You complied and he quickly caught your leg as if it were an oar. Rotating it with its lock, he pumped your appendage until it loosened. You tried to parse out which direction he wanted your leg to go, but he seemed to be testing it at all cardinal points if only to throw you off. Glances shared said this was the case and you stewed up until he had to roll over the other way.

Going through the same motions with this leg, it only pointed to flexibility. It made sense in the context you knew, but you couldn’t figure out why it needed to be a surprise. Any position where the two of you connected was a pleasurable one and that desire to adhere had probably inadvertently worked you through the Kama Sutra.

It spoke of heady days in bed and reminded you of a boiling marathon done in this same season last year.

“Do turtles hibernate?” You asked as he leaned his weight against your leg.

He folded his arms in that position and the comfortable crease said he was doing a fantastic job at whatever his mission was. “Brumation.”

It seemed like another silly word to delineate things with turtles that were nearly identical to other animals. “Sure.”

“No. I’m warm blooded.” He resumed stretching you out.

“Ah.”

“Why?” Cupping your ass, he coaxed you to return to your back.

You rolled and adjusted so you were back in the little divot he’d created in the sheets for you earlier. “I can’t say we do it more in the winter, but I feel like we go longer.”

He hummed, the thought new to him as he again spread your hips wide.

They stretched much further than before and you had to gawk at your own flexibility.

“How’s it feel?”

“Fine…” You folded your knees back together before opening back up like a book. “This is wild. Put me on the split machine; I’ll break a record!”

He gave a faint chuckle. “Enticing thought…” His voice said he drifted with it, but it was all cover as his hand ghosted between your legs.

You gave a little mewl as the transfer of warmth picked up right where you’d left it. “Don…”

“Yes?” Using only a single digit he lightly traced your slit.

“Please say I’m ready.”

“You’re ready.”

A tightening of muscles chained a reaction throughout your body as you hadn’t been prepared for him to so easily agree. “Hurry then.”

His pupils shifted attention and he settled your legs on his thighs. Letting them hang comfortably beside his hips, he dipped forward for a kiss. With a taste of anticipation on your tongue, he leaned away enough to look you over lovingly.

“Usual safeties.”

You gave a single readied nod.

“Biggest chance is your hip popping out of socket. It’s not lethal, but it is excruciating.”

You blinked wide. “Um…”

“The stretching.” He reminded you.

“I’m less confident now…”

“You’ll do fine. Weren’t you ready to receive me?”

You pursed your lips.

“Just focus on me.” He nosed your cheek before tracing up and down your legs again.

Muscles now seared with his relaxing touch, you felt them loosen in his grasp. Clearly what he wanted, he was slow to hoist them up. Now clicking he probably wanted them over his shoulders, you scooted down to accommodate a lift. He accepted it genially, but coaxed you to fold at the knee. The pair bent on either side of him, he led them toward your torso. Changing up to think he was going to turn the Amazon back on you, you lifted your hands at the ready to help hold your legs to your chest.

Again you were bypassed and he continued to palm your skin to keep your muscles supple. “It’s charming how insistent you are.”

“I’m starting to think all this is a ruse and you’ll drop one leg and shove the other above my head or something.”

“So many guesses.” Your knees edged into his vision and he dipped down to pepper them with kisses. “None close.”

“Have you even dropped?” You tried to look down, but your own limbs were blocking the view. 

“Nope.” He switched to kiss your other leg. “Intentional.”

You laid your head back to think. 

He began to exert pressure again and soon your stem pair began to separate. 

Your lower half rising up in a counter balance, your back protested the bend. “W-wait…!”

“Pain?” He continued to push your legs toward you inch by inch.

“No, t-this is…!”

A move you never thought you’d be able to accomplish, your knees hit the mattress just below your shoulders and you squeaked as it squished nearly every part of you together. “Are you alright?”

You nodded furiously, words failing you.

“Good, now…” From where he was arching into you, he got his feet out from under him by throwing his knees out far to either side. It exposed his tail which flicked rhythmically between you and he scooted forward until the weight of his thighs kept your legs in position. Placing his sex directly atop yours, he gave a single stroke that instantly swirled your combined slicks. “Arms up, you’ll want to hold on.”

“Your neck?” You reached weakly, every little move bumping the two of you together in a distracting grind.

He did a quick survey. “Shoulders.” He helped you tuck your elbows to your chest so you could reach around to cup each bulb while your forearms rested against his carapace. He then towered above, his entire body curling over you until he folded his arms above your head with a wrap on either side.

Knowing that was going to be done to fight against some supreme momentum, you gave a shaky breath.

“I’ve got you.” From where he was positioned the best he could do was kiss the top of your head.

You nodded against him.

“Scared?” He looked down at you the best he could. “Smells like it.”

“It’s a roller coaster drop sort of fear. More adrenaline.”

“How do you feel?” He pressed an obvious smile to your hair.

“Like a pretzel.”

He chuckled. “Do you know what this is called?”

You hid into him.

From where you were perfectly aligned he began to rub his pelvis to yours with intent. “Will you say it?”

“Y-you…!” Your voice heightened as he parted your lips in clear adjustment to drop inside.

“You want me to?”

“I-” You broke to moan as he casually rolled upward to tease your clit. “I a-always beg… or…ask… or… s-start it… ‘is your t-turn…”

A bubble of malevolence oozed right above your head and you knew he was putting on his most wicked expression. “Is that permission?”

“Y-yes!” You tried to buck, but he increased the weight of his hips.

You were forced to move at his pace. “I’ll voice my intent then.”

Head lifting from the heated tangle of limbs you butt into his plastron.

He forced you back into the bed as he crushed your pelvises together. “My birth control…”

You whimpered.

“Still in effect. Still operating at 100% efficiency.”

Drop, you wanted him to drop.

“I, however, intend to beat it.”

Though you couldn’t get upward momentum, he could stop any downward. Your entire body pulsed as your cunt clenched on nothing.

“Here we have what is considered the pinnacle in breeding positions.”

You nodded as swipe after swipe drummed enough slick that it rained rivers down your ass crack.

“The wide pelvic stimulation leads to explosive orgasms. The alignment allows for deep penetration…”

“E-enough…!”

“There’s other benefits too!” He chirped manic.

“Donnie!”

He was clearly losing his fight against withholding because the flat tip of his cock poked out to interrupt his smooth glides. .

“Increased intimacy, skinship, improved pelvic floor!!”

“Please! Please!”

“Increased blood flow to aid in seeding!!!”

“Fuck!”

“If you insist.” His cock dropped into you and your entire body fought his. Forcing you to stay in place, he made you adjust to the filling burn in utter stillness.

“This…” He lifted his hips and it allowed yours to bounce free.

His cock leaving you, you heard a mental anticipatory clicking of an old coaster.

Something that held only menace, his gaze devoured you and you glimpsed his face.

He drooled vile intent before quirking an even worse smile through it.

If ever a look could cause ovulation.

“… is the mating press.” Donnie plowed straight through gravity and slammed his hips to yours with a force that must have been near his full strength. Outright screaming, you felt yourself go immediately numb as he followed through setting a brutal pace. The bed matched your pitch and you saw the fluttering of the canopy as the rocking threatening to pop the bolts. Sobbing openly and choking on your tears, he shoved down on your head where his hips were attempting to fuck you straight out of his grasp.

It forced you into a turn where his plastron dug painfully into your cheek. It clattered through to your jaw and into your teeth where he continued to ruthlessly drill you. True to his word, he was plunging past depths you thought you’d known. Tapping further to some unknown deposit, it was through sheer will alone that he’d hit his bounty.

Your eyes rolled back to some unseen part of your brain and swam in a sea of unfeeling taupe. Voice still ringing out with each thrust, exertion blew out your eardrums with a sharp and hollow ring. Something foreboding, Donnie heaved above you, delirious, with clips of him that drifted in and out of your vision. Surely leaking saliva onto you, you couldn’t feel it in the mix where his cock was blasting through your sinuses.

The force of him fucking you forced any and all superfluous fluids out of whatever cavity allowed. From beady sweat glands to whatever was cascading down your chin, there was little room in your body for much else. Excavated and near collapse, you weren’t even sure you were holding on. You were being evaporated by a heat so extreme that your body sizzled and wafted on contact. As if to spite both of you, your battered innards wound with orgasm where they had been plowed loose.

“No.” Donnie’s voice came clear right into your ear.

You could only shriek as he hadn’t stopped thrusting.

“Bear with it.”

Like you had a choice.

“You don’t cum until I say.”

Straining with some unknown energy, you clenched and all that came together was your teeth.

The room shook and you found your partner looking down at you in a drunken stupor.

A power trip that you wanted to say was unlike him, it sent a shudder of fear through you that only enhanced your impending orgasm.

“No!” He growled, all wet teeth. “Hold it in!!”

How could you?

How could you do anything?

You were a sack at this point.

Pushed thin and filled way beyond the stretch point.

Translating that was an impossibility so you tore through the only other single syllable you could manage. “No! No! No!”

“You’ll regret it!!!” He towered with a swirling gaze.

He meant it too.

Evil.

He was going to pollute you.

The injection was one to the heart.

A black ichor that wouldn’t allow your blood to flow a human red again.

Imagery was the little you could muster until it whited out.

Body as useless, you came because of him.

His fault.

He was the one plowing you. 

“What did I say?!”

Heavy.

He was so heavy.

He crushed you. 

Punishment. 

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

There was nothing, but him.

There was also pain.

Screeching from overtaxed muscles.

Oversensitivity.

Overcum.

Overcast.

Overloaded.

His arms slammed into the sides of your head and you were being suffocated against his plastron.

With nothing left, you welcomed the release when you keenly felt his.

A boiling point like a hose turned to full steam, it percolated with a few spouting bubbles until the brunt came. Fluids more malleable than his relentless cock, they rushed your cavity and the force of which was something you felt to an absurd degree.

Hot.

You were boiling alive.

Steamed and trapped, you couldn’t struggle.

You were injected way past the point of what your wrapping could take. There was any number of holes for the leak to spring and yet he only forced it deeper. Rutting down, something metal snapped, but if it collapsed, the sound didn’t reach you. You choked openly, bile burning your throat and suddenly you were free. Hoisted up a limp and delirious waste, you were curled forward. The rush of changing positions threatened to make you vomit, but you kept it down by wilting into the figure stroking your back.

If only his cock wasn’t still pumping deep inside you, then maybe you’d have the space to recover.

Little pathetic mewls sounded as each consecutive load was driven further within you.

You were shushed. “Almost… done…”

“Too… much…” You weeped.

“No…” He was so careful now; too loving. “Took me so well. Gonna look so good plump with my clutch. So good…” He bounced you for the last little spurt before, blessedly, he loosened his grip. A hand you hadn't known released from where it had been clasped a painful degree into your lower back. You were broken so he could get that much deeper into you. “So, so good…” He churred into your cheek.

You weren’t going to make it.

It was your final thought before you passed out.

-

Donnie waited on you hand and foot the entire next week. From the major bruising that made it near impossible to walk to his abject loss of control, you took advantage of him and then some. Not feeling the least bit bad about it, the only part you’d taken no pleasure in was discussing the matter of how such a thing cropped up.

His own memory of the event slightly stunted, you’d both been a level of surprised to watch the playback. A lewd and violent pornography, Donnie had been forced to pause it more than once and pace. For you, the slivers you saw fell into place, but it was the ecstasy on your face that seemed doctored. Where you remembered feeling as though you might perish, the you on the screen moaned like a cat in heat. Something feral and yowling, it seemed wholly unlike you.

Getting through the footage and how one of the cameras had an insane shot of your slits melding together and leaking white upon climax, Donnie looked ready to maim himself. Talking him down a proverbial roof, it was eventually decided that his instincts were mistakenly reared. Too much vulnerability and a quick option to put himself back into a dominant position meant he’d lapsed into instinct. A sort of horrifically marred survival tactic, it was another thing to add to the list for him to work on. 

Only, he wasn’t satisfied with so little punishment and had switched to devoting himself.

“Do you think you really beat your birth control?”

“No.” The first thought was sure. “No…”  The second wasn’t. “We’ll monitor.”

A promise and an additional week of near nonstop rest were all done in repair mode. The bed frame had snapped, but it was replaced within the day. The pictures for your locket were all, but forgotten and your main prerogative had instead been some extended aftercare.

As soon as you were able to endure standing more than a few minutes at a time, you had dragged him out. Feeling better in the fresh air, you were currently tucked against him in line. Toasty and half held within his coat, you were musing on a menu you would soon order from. Out sometime during a lunch rush had meant a wait, but you needed a break from the stale heated air of indoors. “Think they’ll have any of those peppermint cookies left?”

“Hard to say…” He spoke soft and doted with his beak to your hair.

“Think being soft like this will… trigger anything?” You weren’t afraid if it did. You hadn’t actually minded how rough he was in the long run. You’d actually come to think of the press fondly, which you impressed upon him, minus maybe some slightest adjustments toward the end. It was, once again, all about your participation in the matter, but he had also not been able to pass anything along. All things you discussed, it boiled down to progress. Ever non-linear, there was an obvious scale to be balanced and you’d both felt a little too comfortable shoving it one way. Your partner not only deserved, but required a delicate touch.

Donnie stiffened and pulled you closer. “Absolutely not, this is different.”

“Is it?” You looked up at him in earnest.

He nodded and caught your chin so he could relay his own. “This is taking care of my mate… We surmised the ignition point was perceived threat to my mental standing.”

With the barest shift, he released you, but you buried further into him.

“Oh, ho! That must be the lovebirds next door!”

Blinking into cotton, you extracted yourself at the elderly voice.

Above you Donnie suddenly looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Peeking around his form, you found your neighbor of whom Donnie despised for her long pumpkin related tangents. “Hey, Mrs. Kaczmarek.”

“Hello, love.” She smiled brightly. “You two out for a nibble too?”

“Yup.” You rounded your partner to act as a barrier.

“This is a tasty spot. Close to home.” She continued and the line moved.

Donnie took his step and you followed along only to find her struggling with the bag she brought. “Need help?”

“Yes, please.” She held out her hand where bony fingers clutched straps.

You moved to tuck your hand under with the intention to take the weight, but her other claw emerged and snatched up your left hand. “Let’s see…” She adjusted her glasses.

Donnie went all smug behind you.

“Not married.” She frowned deeply and turned a monumental sense of disappointment up at you.

You stared now believing every single thing Donnie ever said about this wicked woman.

“Waiting for the right time.” Donnie barely got out without laughing.

“You know I’ve taken the time to adjust to this… sort of coupling. You sort of neighbors. I support mutants with pride now! You should mind me as well! Living in sin and all!”

Donnie nearly doubled over and had to turn full away toward the building.

You sat trapped where she was still holding you in what you now realized were perfectly manicured nails. “Uh huh!”

She scoffed loudly.

You hadn’t meant to admit that; you were merely dissociating.

How had this not been revealed to you sooner?

You moved in months ago.

She also was older and presumably went to bed early where you worked most days.

Donnie suffered the brunt as he often worked from home.

You’d apologize later.

The line took another step.

“Ma’am!” You squeaked, unable to move with it as she continued to hold you tight.

“I’m waiting.” She narrowed her gaze.

“For what?!”

She made a sly noise and let go.

You scrambled two steps back and bumped flat against your partner.

“Let’s have lunch. I can tell you all about my son’s wedding! Things to avoid!”

“To-go!” You quacked.

She arched a brow and there was a slight shake to her frame.

“We have plans, don’t we, Don!?”

“Sure, very busy.” He snickered.

Worst liar ever.

“How about tomorrow then? We’ll do dinner!”

“I’m sorry, we-we-?” You rotated up to your partner for support.

He was staunchly looking forward.

“What’s that? Speak up!” She hobbled closer.

“Our turn. My apologies, miss.” Donnie swooped you under the wing of his coat and came down with a villain’s suave sent straight at the woman. “This has been far from a pleasure, but our schedules are simply booked out for the next eternity. Ta!” He then wrangled you inside and straight to the counter where a chipper employee took your order.

In a stupor, you vaguely heard Donnie ask for and secure your cookie.

Hiding behind a pillar as the old woman berated an employee, you felt safe enough to revel in the moment and crept over to laugh into your boyfriend's plastron. “She’s going to hate us! Omigosh! We’ll have to keep an eye out every time we leave.”

Donnie shone brightly above you. “You speak as if I don’t already track her every move.”

Reality striking, you turned up at him with irritation. “You let this happen!?”

He shoved a fist to his mouth and barely muffled a loud laugh.

He also turned his head.

You glimpsed the innards of his glasses.

Where you playing with leaf boats was playing as a faint image inside.

He then returned, quaking with more giggles as he looked down on you and did his best feeble impression. “‘I’m w-waiting!’”

You didn’t have it in you to join in or get annoyed. You only reached up and plucked the frames off his face.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Darling Protocol, continue footage for user Darling.” You turned the glasses around and mimed putting them on.

Donnie dipped low as if to stop you and you watched him through a faint image of yourself turning to smile at the camera.

“How… How long have you…?”

He shrank with worry and affection. “All the time. Especially of late…”

The you in the lens laughed and waved the kids goodbye, before approaching the frame with love in your eyes.

You took the glasses off and watched as the display fizzled out.

It was an image that could only be seen from within.

Donnie waited patiently beside you.

“Donatello!”

His head only moved slightly at the call for your order.

You said nothing and held up his glasses with a clutch that said you were going to place them. 

He dipped with anxiously closed eyes for you to do so. 

They landed a little off kilter, but he left them like that to grab your lunch. When he returned, you didn't allow him to linger and threw yourself into motion toward the door. A predator of an older age made some mocking comment, but you exited with Donnie’s boots clicking the pavement behind you. You walked three doors down before you looked both ways to cross the road.

Your partner trailed behind as best he could and you eventually shoved the ringing bell of a bookshop door.

Donnie followed close, catching the door and you heard an employee say something in a bored yawn.

“No food or drink.”

“We’re not eating, just need to pick something up.”

“Whatever.”

You maneuvered through the stacks.

“Y/N…?” Donnie whispered after to you.

This business had tried to maximize space as most did with New York real estate. It meant several bookshelf rows deviated from the norm and wound into a nook that you imagined once belonged to the last tenant’s kitchen. It now stood, walls lined with knowledge, as a sort of hidden place where one could get lost.

“Y/N…” Donnie murmured again, clear concern in his voice.

You took a leading step towards him, but swung your weight back. It rolled your form something untraceable before you lunged and pressed up against him.

You felt his being raise around an action he couldn’t script.

Snapping the top button of his slacks free, you shoved a hand down his pants.

A sharp squeak emitted from him and he clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Do you miss me?” You whispered into his sweater and stopped to drag your index finger across the bottom of his plastron.

“Y-you…! No… you’re… you’re right here.”

“That why you watch me on a loop?” You eyed him and stepped closer, crowding him into a shelf.

The bag flopped on his wrist as he went to grab the rack. “N-no, th-that’s…”

“Do you watch the whole day? Do you watch the end?” You pressed your palm flat against the lower ridge and curled your fingers, toying behind it.

He stifled a peep. “The beginning… only… the…”

“Why?” You applied pressure.

His eyes drifted shut. “I-I-”

“Go on…?” You swung your fingers loosely and barely brushed his inner thigh.

“Y/N, we haven’t since…” He gasped.

“I’ve been healing. I thought that was okay.”

“It is!” He caught your arm and forced himself to stare at you through what was almost a glare. “It is. I would wait a lifetime. I would never cum again. I would take a vow of celibacy sooner than touch you if you weren’t ready.”

“Why the footage?”

“It’s not sexual.”

“Then what is it!?”

“You haven’t been able to look at me like that since!” He startled at the sound and his face crumbled. “You haven’t…”

You stilled where you hadn’t realized you were pushing against his grip.

“I… I don’t deserve it. I tainted… No…” He took a deep breath. “We’re working on it. I’m working on it. I haven’t ruined anything and yet I’ve also… I don’t feel as though I deserve it, but I crave that attention. Why I squandered it in the first place…?” He shook his head. “I take immense joy in relinquishing myself to you. Why'd my mind fear it? Too much of a good thing? Do I imagine there’s greener grass when I stand in the most lush pasture?”

You leaned into him and thought.

Letting his words play over and over in your head.

Around you his hold eventually loosened and your hand felt particularly warm where it was.

“Darling Protocol.”

Donnie perked at the sound of your voice.

“Play footage from ‘Mating Press.’”

“No.” He reached up to take his glasses off.

“For user Darling.”

He paused with them just off his beak and looked down at you openly.

You stared back.

He was gentle about setting them on the bridge of your nose and the two of you appeared talking as Donnie massaged you.

In time with his kneads, you tucked your hand in between his legs and made a pathetic attempt to copy his skill.

“Y/N…” Donnie breathed, unsure.

The pair in your vision stole little loving glances at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

Without audio, you continued to stroke Donnie in time until you felt the first dribble of his slick. Almost against his will, you’d worked him up and watched as another him folded you in half.

“You know what I see…?”

“Me? Us?” He stunted out between breathy lips.

“A couple who is pretty good at communication.”  

Cinematic, there was a sweep across your intertwined bodies until focus shifted to highlight the moment Donnie connected your pelvises.

“Teasing each other. Knowing what the other wants.”

“It didn’t-” His breath hitched as you directly brushed his slit.

“It didn’t work? Don, we’re having our first pregnancy scare.”

A churr broke like a sob in his throat and he cracked open leaking desire in his eyes.

Starting with two fingers, you probed him.

Your lens shifted a focal point over Donnie’s shoulder to highlight the anticipation on your face.

“So good…” You mouthed, vision unfocused to watch both actions in stereo.

“Y/N… wha-?”

You sank into him to the joint and pulled back waiting for the miniature him.

It took a few more swipes and a return to the camera trained on your sexes to show the peek of his cock.

You jammed your hand back into your partner the moment he dropped in you.

In a flash, Donnie’s arm flew up and his teeth sank deep into the flesh as he barely contained an outright moan.

“It’s a shame you can’t see yourself breed me.”

His eyes rolled back just like the one on the tape.

“So deep…” You were close to fisting him. “So thick… So amazing…”

“Not…” Drool mixed with blood leaking from his bite.

“Not true?” You asked, turning your body slightly so you could plunge your arm further into him.

You fucked past his response and covertly worked your own fly free with your other hand.

In your double vision, things were rapidly devolving.

“You’re wrong…” You bent your arm in a way that it pushed down on his zipper.

It appeared you were giving yourself more room.

“You’re good. So good. Wonderful. Incredible. Made for me.”

He shook his head and rattled a few books on the shelf.

You pressed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet to keep him still. “Shh, can you be quiet for me? Only drop when you’re told?”

“T-this-!” He hissed to keep his voice low.

“So good at making me feel good. So good at breeding me. My sweet, Donatello.”

His cock hit your fingers deep and the entirety of his body flexed to prevent it from falling further.

“My sweet, sweet, lovely, Donnie.” Aiming for as fluid a motion as you could, you snatched the glasses off your face. “Darling Protocol, keep rolling no matter what.”

The sound didn’t reach his ears, but a certain level of awareness came as you placed the glasses back on his beak. 

His lips parted with terror.

You did a rapid turn, extracting your wet hand from him and knocking his pants down. They sunk to the floor and you shoved at yours, getting them only just below your hips. You then caught the shelf across the way and bent to present your sex to him. “Drop, my love. Here. Your mate needs you.”

He heaved two loud exhales before the many stimuli ate up his worries. Joining the past version in only one way, he lined himself up. Deviating immediately from the film, he was careful to cradle your hips. Crouching over the whole of you like some weighty winter coat, he pressed into your soak and groaned a sweet churr in your ear. Feeling your heat, he chased it with shallow thrusts and you scrambled to hold on to the bookshelf as he rolled against you. Made of only tenderness, he shifted and adjusted until he found your pleasure. He then held himself at bay, refusing to exploit it and instead wrapped you up in love.

“Deeper…” You moaned, throwing an arm back to cradle his head.

Hunched nearly to his knees, he adjusted his aim.

A reversal of the footage, you shuddered in waves of ecstasy when the angle of his hips got him fully seated. Switching to scrub there, he only nudged on your g-spot and you felt a new wave of adoration sweep you.

“Donnie!”

“Y/N!”

Matching call for call, he continued to make love to you in a steady building until books began to fall. None hitting you and the flutter of pages beating like dove’s wings, you came soon after and he held you close, letting you have every ounce of it. Shuddering and tugging, your mouth sought his and, in an awkward bend, he captured it. Communicating the same message, it bumped the glasses off his snout where they hit the ground at the same time he came.

A flooding warmth filled you up like a piping hot mug and you lounged in the drink.

“I called the cops, you sick fucks!!!”

In an instant, you were wrapped up and flying through the store. Shouts chased after you and a cold wind soon bit your cheeks. Only giggling amongst it all, motion stopped in the open air and you had to blink through stages of realization to find you were on top of some building.

“Donnie!?” You called.

“Here…!” He was around you, but crumpled over to pant from exertion, sex, and the adrenaline of fleeing the scene of an obvious crime.

“We’re totally banned…” You bubbled with laughter.

He hummed in agreement and tugged you closer. “…love…y-”

“Huh?” You swallowed your giggles in an attempt to get the foamy sound out of your ears.

“Nothing…” He buried down in the side of your neck and let your scent soothe him.

You laid your head on top of his. “How was that? Better, my sweet?”

He held for a long time before he went a calculated slack. “Better…”

Your pants were caught around your ankles and you pulled them up as much as you could where you were sitting on them. “Did you happen to…? Yes!” 

In a quick survey, you found your lunch and dragged it over to you. 

Still coming down from your high, you slowed in parting the handles. “I’m sorry I made you take care of everything again after I went rogue… again… Hard to avoid the same pitfalls…” 

He nodded his head into a scrub.

 You settled against him for a moment of humbling silence before rooting into the bag. 

“Lost one item.”

“What’s that?” You grabbed his sandwich first and looked at him curiously while offering it over.

Instead of speaking, he gave a calculated scrunch of his beak and you realized it was his glasses.

“That’s… not good…! I told them to keep rolling… no matter… what… fuck!”

“Self destruct.” He murmured.

“Self…” As if on cue, you heard a siren in the distance. “In a bookstore?!”

His arm rose around you and the move peeled back his sleeve where his gauntlet projected a screen. “Only a 1 alarm, contained to erase evidence.”

“I’m…” You sat in dismay for a second before looking skyward.

Cloudless, but sunny, it ambivalently sat overhead.

“… I’m racking up quite the record… which I will deal with later.” Donnie finally took his sandwich while you went straight for your cookie. “I’m gonna lie and say I earned this.”

“I’m inclined to agree, bar none.” Donnie whispered the affirmation against your head and adjusted his hold so you could eat entangled together.

NEXT

Beta boss round up for my sweet @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi. I'm going to send this ask to more than one blog because I want to check if I get different types of answers. (Please make sure this ask is anonymous) Do you have any advices for plurals how to clean / tidy your room/house and manage to not make it messy again? Important: nay tips for how to not regret getting rid of items you think aren't important now but still be able to get rid of many items to finally make your house clean?

🥔🥔🥔

Hello, this is an excellent question. Maintaining a clean living space can genuinely help improve and maintain positive mental health, but it can be challenging keeping up with these things as a system. We certainly do not keep our own home totally spotless, but here’s how we go about keeping our living space clean.

1) Chore Chart

We’ve made a list of all the chores we’d ideally like to get done, and assigned one or two chores to each day of the week. We’ll put a big chore list at the bottom of this post under a cut, so you can get some sort of idea about the amount of chores your system might need to do in order to keep your space tidy. Our own chore chart is written on a whiteboard left in our kitchen so we can see it every day.

2) Checklists

Many parts of our system are incredibly motivated by checklists. It feels amazing and productive to be able to check things off as you accomplish tasks. Individual chores can even be broken down into multiple steps so you can have more items to check off, if you’d like. Our chore chart mentioned above is in a checklist format, so parts can cross things off the list as they do them. If your system feels like a checklist might be useful, we cannot stress enough how incorporating a checklist into your routine might be beneficial.

3) Putting things away

This one is tough, particularly for the littles in our system, but putting things away when you’re done using them can have a huge impact on keeping your space clean. Things like:

- Hanging up coats and putting away shoes when you take them off

- Keeping dirty clothes in a bin or hamper

- Returning toys/art supplies/electronics/etc. to where they belong after using them

- Taking dishes, cups, and silverware to the sink/kitchen after eating or drinking

- Throwing away empty wrappers, broken things, and other trash items as you encounter them

And so on. This may be a difficult habit to get into, but if a few of your members who front in your home can commit to keeping this up, your whole system will start to feel the differences.

4) Divvying tasks

In all honesty, our system has a chores part who handles most of our housework. Soft likes it and it works for fluff. However, not every system has a specific headmate who handles or wants to complete domestic tasks. So dividing responsibilities among the willing members of your system can lighten everyone’s workload a bit. You can try making different charts or checklists for different headmates, or include those who want/are able to help out on any sort of chore chart or list you create.

Now, when it comes to getting rid of items… our system is POSIC, and can establish connections and relationships with all sorts of items which can make getting rid of them challenging. Still, this is a necessary part of life. Some things that have more or less worked for us are:

We’re not big minimalists, but we like Marie Kondo’s advice when it comes to getting rid of things to ask yourself: what sparks joy? If an item doesn’t spark joy for yourself or your headmates, consider getting rid of it. We like the idea of thanking the item for its service before letting it go.

We also have one alter who likes to take pictures of things before we get rid of them. Pup then makes little edits of them, pasting little digital stickers, and for us it works as a good way to keep items in our memory without keeping them around physically. This may be weird, but it works for us, so we thought might as well include it.

Also, donating items to thrift stores or charity causes may be easier and more fulfilling than flat-out throwing them away. In this way, you’re parting with items that can still find a good home with someone who could get more use out of it, and not sending a once treasured object off to a landfill.

Goodness, this post got quite long. We’ll go ahead and call it here so it doesn’t get even more carried away. We do hope that something here will be useful for your system. Good luck with keeping your home tidy in the future!

And here is a list of chores that might help you get a feel for how to create your own chore chart:

Kitchen

- Doing dishes

- Wiping countertops

- Scrubbing the sink

- Cleaning out the fridge and/or pantry

- Doing meal prep

Bedroom

- Making the bed

- Doing laundry (step one: gather clothes, step two: wash them, step three: dry them, step four: fold them, step five: put them away)

- Washing and changing out bedsheets

Bathroom

- Scrubbing the toilet

- Scrubbing the sink

- Scrubbing the shower or bathtub

- Washing the mirror

Misc/Any Room

- Sweeping

- Vacuuming

- Dusting

- Mopping

- Washing windows

- Putting away anything that isn’t where it belongs

We hope you and your system can brainstorm to figure out what chores will benefit your home life best. Again, good luck with your endeavors to maintain a clean space going forward!

[lizzisimss]

Eclectic Craftsman-style Home

CC used (list below) Sequoia in San Sequoia 30 x 20 3 bed, 1 bath $122,384

AIRA – https://www.patreon.com/airacc

Décor tablet

House tissue box

Luxury tray

Planet pot

Trash can with stickers

Vanilla flower candle

Vanilla flower vase

Brazenlotus – https://www.patreon.com/BrazenLotus

LaundryMadeEssentials – Clothes Iron

charly pancakes - https://www.patreon.com/charlypancakes

The lighthouse collection merged

Chalk part 2

M & S Constructions part 1 merged

Modish merged

Munch merged

Smol merged

Soak merged

Weeds merged

Felixandre – https://www.patreon.com/felixandre

Fayun part 1 & 2

London interior

house of harlix - https://www.houseofharlix.com

Orjanic

Bafroom Merged

Baysic Bafroom Merged

Baysic merged

Harluxe Merged

Livin’Rum Merged

The Kichen

Tiny Twavellers merged

harrie - https://www.patreon.com/heyharrie

Country collection part 1 & 2

Octave part 1 merged

Kiwisim - https://www.patreon.com/Kiwisim4

Blockhouse

Piha

KKB – https://www.patreon.com/user?u=15789815

Citrus Room

leaf motif - https://leaf-motif.tumblr.com

Magnolia bathroom

Basil chair

Botanic boudoir

Calliope bathroom

Devon kitchen

Ivy hallway

Little ceramics

Sunny corner

Vintage crockery

Winter village

Patron gift 2

Lilis-palace – https://www.patreon.com/lilis_palace

Folklore set off the grid

Intarsia Biedermeier set

littledica - https://www.patreon.com/littledica

Countryside cabin merged

Eco kitchen stuff pack merged

Greasy gods merged

Rise & grind café merged

Sleek slumber stuff pack merged

Deligracy merged cottage living update

Madlen – https://www.patreon.com/madlen

Goth backpack

Kei plushie

max 20 - https://www.patreon.com/Max20

Child dream kit

Classic kitchen

Cozy backyard pack

Garden at home

Master bedroom pack

Mechtasims – https://www.patreon.com/mechtasims

Aphrodite set

Back to school

Essential clutter

Wiccan set

Mlys – https://mlyssimblr.tumblr.com/cc-catalog

Pufferhead

Momo-cc – https://www.patreon.com/MOMOCC

Bake A Pie

my cup of cc -https://www.patreon.com/mycupofcc

ColourTalk DiningStuff

Maple manor part 1

Maple manor the modernist collection living room

August 2021

Tiny dreamers merged

myshunosun - https://www.patreon.com/myshunosun

Bastvik dresser

Garden stories

The art room

Uma living

Arrie office

Daria bedroom

Dawn living

Dawn storage

Freja round fur rug

Gale dining

Simmify part 2

ONI – https://www.patreon.com/oni28

Cottage kitchen sink

Vintage living room lug

peacemaker - https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/TS4O...

Bayside bedroom set merged

Country crafter

Elsie bedroom basics

Futura merged

Hamptons retreat merged

Hinterlands bedroom

Hudson bathroom

Iris seating

Kingston dining merged

Mid century eclectic merged

Paige seating

Province merged

Roarsome kids bedroom merged

Violette seating

Bowed arched lamp

pierisim - https://www.patreon.com/pierisim

Precious Promises

Calderone bedroom

MCM 1, 2, 3, 5 merged

Oak house 1, 2, 3, 5 merged

The office mini kit

Tidying up

Auntie vera bathroom merged

Coldbrew coffeeshop

Domaine du clos 1, 2, 3, 4 merged

Living room mini kit

Winter garden 1 & 2 merged

QICC - https://www.patreon.com/qicc

Evergreen balcony set

simplisticsims - http://simplisticsims4.com

Cottage ice box

Magnolia cottage rugs

RHckstove

RPCcotsworldsrug

Tedbakerwroughtironbed

vintagecountryartllb

sixiamcc - https://imfromsixam.tumblr.com/

breeze of greece

kids room

oak & concrete merged

artz

hotel bedroom

luxbath

retro vibes

SurelySims – https://www.patreon.com/surelysims

build wall plastic slats

deco ceral bowl

SYB – https://www.patreon.com/Syboubou

BonBon

Laundry

Nathalie

TaurusDesign – https://www.patreon.com/taurusdesign

Eliza walk in closet merged

Elsa Kids Room merged

Clutter Cat - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thec...

222

Busy Bee

Busy Bee 2

Cat milk no 1 reloaded

Cat milk no 2 reloaded

Cozy casita

Cozy Cochina

Japan juice

Kawaii kidz

Mellow Moods

Petits pirates

Xfest22

TUDS -https://www.patreon.com/TudTuds

2nd Wave Merged

Vime closet merged

Waved merged

Awingedllama – https://www.patreon.com/awingedllama

Apartment therapy inspired stuff v2 merged

Paranormal plants all

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: I Was So Much Younger Yesterday

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC

Word count: 3K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: It’s time to celebrate Faye’s 16th birthday. Also, Walter works out a way for Kam to practice expressing her needs. 

Chapter warnings: crying, Daddy kink(if you don’t like this, turn back now because damn), slight dumbification kink, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, creampie, creampie tasting, the term ‘cumslut’ used lovingly

A/N: New Story Art! *cheering and applause* Now, it’s time to get to serious business. Um, I like Angie. And I wrote her like I see her. Also, this chapter gets quite kinky so heed those warnings, please. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits

Cross-posted on AO3

Spotify Playlist

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV

Three Months Later

“...Happy Birthday dear Faye, Happy Birthday to You!”

We all cheer as Faye blows out her sixteen candles. Her parents stand by and film their child celebrating with her friends. Angie starts to cut the cake and gives Walter slices to hand out. They work so well together. You’d never know they went through such a rough separation.

Sweet Faye with her curls and her chubby cheeks, looking for all the world like the baby she was. Her purple cocktail dress matches the flower in her hair that I helped her with. 

It was nice to feel like a part of the team, working with Walter and Angie on organizing the party for Faye. But, let’s face it, it was mostly me and Angie doing the planning and Walter nodding along. Angie and I got along well enough, I think she just appreciated that I cared about Faye and that meant more than anything.

Angie says goodbye to the last guests leaving while I finish tidying up Faye’s gift haul. She dozes on the couch curled up on Walter who is snoozing as well. Angie moves a blanket over both of them and comes to help me clear away dishes and any lingering trash.

“I have to thank you for helping out with Faye earlier. She’s in that stage where everything I say is just not ‘cool’ enough,” Angie wipes her hands on a dish towel and looks from Faye’s sleeping form to me, “I remember this time in my life where my little girl valued my opinion above all else. And now it’s like she chooses the exact opposite of what I suggest.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll realize one day that she is so lucky to have a mother who actually wanted her,” I squeeze my eyes closed, deciding to open this old wound, “My mom never wanted to be a mother and she made that abundantly clear by leaving me and my Dad when I was a kid. He was never emotionally available so I had some interesting times in life, to say the least. But, just know that I’m sure she’ll come around. It may be in a year or two, but for now, you have a Daddy’s girl on your hands.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. 

I don’t notice Angie coming to my side until she puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Having a loving mother next to me offering me comfort is suddenly too much to handle and my eyes start to blur from unshed tears. I begin to protest my emotional reaction but then Angie speaks.

“It doesn’t make you weak to cry when you’re upset.” 

Her hushed words are like a soothing balm on a decades-old burn. One shaky breath is all I take before the tears are streaming down my face. Angie’s face crumbles as well and she wraps her arms around me. I realize that it has been a long time since I’ve had a “Mom hug” and I cling to that warmth as I quietly weep. 

When my sobs turn into sniffles, Angie rubs my back in calming circles. We separate and she cups my cheek in a display of affection. I nod and smile in appreciation before taking a deep breath to collect myself.

Walter and Faye pick this moment to finally wake up. Thank goodness for small favors, they missed my little moment. I wipe my eyes and face quickly before smiling at my boyfriend and his daughter. While Faye is none the wiser, I can see the gears working behind Walter’s eyes. He can always see right through me, but he won’t make his suspicions known until we’re alone. Something I truly love about him, he is not a scene-maker.

I walk over to Faye and give her a big hug before sitting down next to Walter and holding his hand. “How did we do on your big day, sweetheart? I’ll take you falling asleep as you had quite a time.”

“It was perfect. It was everything I wanted. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Thank you, Kam.” The grin never left her sweet face. It is all worth it to see her happiness. 

“You’re welcome, love,” Walter cupped Faye’s face and she beamed back at him. Truly a Daddy’s girl.

“Alright, birthday girl. You are welcome to stay up as long as you like. Just for tonight, that is,” Angie walks over to us and kisses the top of Faye’s head before smiling at Walter and me, “I am going to bed. Thank you both for your help today. Goodnight.” She pats my shoulder before heading upstairs.

If Walter notices our non-verbal exchange, he doesn’t mention it.

“Alright, girlfriend. Who was that adorable kid with the curls? He was cute.” I can’t help but make Faye blush and make Walter roll his eyes. It’s like my talent. 

“That was Albert. He’s in my English class. He likes Federico García Lorca and Mission: Impossible movies. That’s all I needed to know.”

“Which means he either knows enough to seem intelligent or enough to actually be intelligent,” I smile and yawn before stretching.

“On that note, I think it’s time for us to get home and for you to get to bed.” Walter ends the conversation without adding his two cents about this Albert kid. Faye gets the hint and follows suit.

“Yeah, I’m tired anyway. Thanks again, you guys.” Faye yawns sympathetically.

Walter and I leave after hugs and final birthday wishes. On the car ride back to his place, Walter decides to bring up his worries. 

“So, did something happen while Faye and I were out?” He broaches the topic carefully.

“Angie was feeling a bit left out of her daughter’s life. I simply told her that she has a Daddy’s girl on her hands.” I smile at the side of Walter’s face and look back at the road.

Walter surprises me by pulling the car over and turning to face me. “You want to try that again, Princess?” The pet name is enough to put my brain in gear and answer fully.

“I told Angie about how my Mom never wanted me. And then I cried. A lot.” I hated how he was so good at getting me to say what I didn’t want to say. But I had to respect his abilities.

“Why do I always have to work so hard at getting the truth out of you, Princess?” He reaches over to hold my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “You’ll work on that tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy. I understand.” Suddenly out of breath, I slip into subspace with ease.

Walter’s POV

I love this woman, I do. But there is nothing harder than getting her to face her emotions. Getting her to tell me when she’s dealing with sadness or anxiety is like pulling teeth. I have literally been in the line of fire before. But getting her to admit when she has cried is harder than any S.W.A.T. mission I have ever been on.

We get back to my place and after her shower, I instruct her to stay undressed. I have her sit on the bed against the headboard. While I undress, I deny her the ability to touch herself. I watch her squirm while I slowly remove my last piece of clothing.

My dick throbs between my legs as I lock eyes with her. She licks her lips and fights the urge to reach out and touch. I settle on her punishment and a little piece of me actually feels sorry for her. This one might wreck her.

“Since it’s so hard for you to be honest about your feelings, we’re going to work on that tonight. You have to express when you have needs. All you have to do is tell me what you need when you need it. You must use your words, Princess. Is that clear?” I cross my arms and look down at her.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” I smile as the praise washes over her, “How do you feel about restraints, baby?”

She shifts on the bed a bit and plays with her hands. “I like being restrained.”

“Good,” I reach into my nightstand and pull out a silk sash before beckoning her to sit at the edge of the bed, “Put your hands together for me, palm to palm,” She does as she’s told and I tie her hands together. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

“Feels fine,” She scrunches up her nose and looks up at me, “I won’t be able to touch you, though.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point, Princess,” I push lightly on her shoulder so she lays down flat and her hands stretch above her head, “Just lie back and let me work. And you tell me when you need more or less, alright?”

She nods and I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, I’ll tell you what I need.”

“Good girl.” I lean down and capture her lips in my own. I poke at the seam of her mouth until she lets me enter. I lick into her mouth, tasting and sucking on her tongue. Moving my kisses to her jaw then to her neck, I suck and bite at her sweet spot until she lets out that precious little moan of hers.

Trailing my tongue across her clavicle, I kiss down her chest and lavish attention on her breasts. These perfect fucking tits I love so much. I kiss both nipples and knead the soft flesh but don’t go any further until I hear a whine. “Use your words, Princess. What do you need?”

“Your tongue…can you suck on my nipples, please?” Her breathing speeds up.

“That’s my good girl.” I swirl my tongue around one nipple while running my thumb over the other. I suck the pebbled peak into my mouth and tease it with my tongue. Suckling at her for a few moments more, I switch to the other side to give just as much attention. I feel her thighs rubbing together in search of friction, so I kiss down her soft belly, stopping to nip at her hips. 

Pulling her legs apart, I can finally see my prize. I want to dive right in, but this is an exercise to have Kamaria tell me what she needs so instead I kiss at her inner thighs for far longer than I normally would have to prove a point.

“Daddy, please eat my pussy.” She pleads, moving her hips closer to my face. Such a good girl for me, and I tell her as much before I kiss her mound and then slide my tongue up and down her wet slit.

“Fuck! You taste amazing, Princess.” My hands grip her thighs tight before I begin to lap at her like a man starved. Her sweet nectar is more than enough to satisfy me and I want to drink her in and never look back. Her whimpers only make me work that much harder. Sucking on her clit, I let my tongue dance against the swollen bud and am rewarded with a squeal. 

“Need your fingers, please.” Such a polite little thing, isn’t she?

“Yes, baby.” I reward her good manners with two fingers straightaway. She’s soaked and they slide in easily. We both groan and I massage that inner bundle of nerves before returning my attention to her clit. I flick my tongue on her button before working my fingers in and out of her core.

“Just like that, don’t stop!” Her words go straight to my dick and I curve my fingers. Before long, I can feel her channel clamp down on my fingers but I keep working at her as her juices coat my hand.

“Too much, too sensitive!” She cries, her body shaking under me. I lift off her clit and still my fingers before licking them clean and wiping them on the comforter.

“You did so good, Princess,” I kiss up her body and nibble at her neck, “But I’m not done with you yet, baby.” I get up from my spot between her legs and move her to the center of the bed. Maneuvering her on her side, I slide up behind her and lift her leg. I enter her swiftly and we moan in tandem.

I pull back out until just the tip is inside then I slam back in. Gripping her hip, I start a punishing pace inside her walls. The way her cunt squeezes me is like paradise. She was made to take my dick. I was made to claim her pussy.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” All she can utter is a string of curses and I feel triumphant that I fucked language right out of her brain.

“That’s right, Princess. Let this dick fuck you stupid, baby,” No sooner do I finish that sentence do I feel her walls flutter around me, “Oh does my baby like being fucked dumb on Daddy’s dick?” The answering whine tells me all I need to know. Adding ‘dumbification’ to the list of kinks my baby girl has.

Pulling out and moving Kam onto her back, I get to my knees and push her legs open, Entering her again, I reach up and hold her bound hands in one fist. From this angle, I can slam into her and stimulate her clit at the same time.

“Need to…touch you. Please…Daddy?” Her words are punctuated by thrusts, the look of yearning in her eyes.

I pull the knot free on the sash. Her hands immediately go to my hair to tug me down for a kiss. I can taste her desire and hunger for closeness. I growl into her mouth and she whimpers back. Her legs wrap around my waist and pull me in deeper. We pull apart from the kiss and rest our foreheads together.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” At this point, I am panting. So close to release. I just need to hear her say she needs it.

“Look at me while you cum inside me, Daddy,” This little brat actually smiles up at me as she shatters me.

“Fuck!” The dam breaks and my hold on reality fucks all the way off. My eyes search hers while I empty my balls into her waiting cunt. I keep stroking inside her and the sensation is heightened once I feel her come around me. She could gonna be the death of me, and I’d love every minute of it.

I lean down and slot our mouths together as I pull out. I swallow her whimper at the feeling of emptiness before I look down to see her thoroughly ruined snatch. My cum still leaks out and I can’t help but feel proud to see her so full. I smile down at her before getting up from the bed.

I clean up a bit in the bathroom before fetching a damp washcloth. Entering the room again, I find Kam lazily playing with herself. “Enjoying yourself, Princess?” I reach down and clean her gently.

“I love how sensitive I am right now. It feels so good.” Her eyes roll back in her head as my hand moves over her folds.

“Do you think you can give me one more orgasm, Princess?” I know I might be pushing it, but seeing her so aroused is making it worth asking.

“Yes, please, Daddy. I wanna cum again for you.” 

That was all I needed to hear before I’m between her legs again. I lean down to lap at her slit. Tasting my spend and her juices mixed together is heavenly. Can’t believe I’ve never done this before. By the surprised moans coming from Kam, I’d say she was enjoying this as well. 

After making out with her pussy for a while, my fingers find their way inside her tight wet heat. Curving my fingers as I move them in and out, I’m rewarded soon after with a strangled moan and her walls fluttering around my fingers. I wait until the convulsing stops to remove my fingers. A dirty thought enters my head and I run with it.

“Open your mouth, Princess,” As she follows direction, I lock eyes with her as I put my slick-coated fingers in her mouth until they disappear, “Such a good girl for me. Sucking our cum off my fingers like the hungry little cumslut you are.”

She moans around my fingers and if I didn’t literally just cum a liter, I’d be balls-deep in her again. When I remove my fingers from her mouth, she actually whines in protest. I can’t help but kiss that adorable pout before grabbing the washcloth again to wipe away the evidence of her arousal.

I throw the cloth in the hamper and lay down next to my love. I check her wrists to make sure the sash didn’t dig in too deep before kissing her forehead. “How’s my baby feeling?”

“I feel amazing. Spectacular,” She stretches and cuddles into my chest as I wrap an arm around her, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“I’m right there with you. I probably fried a few brain cells but it was so worth it,” I hold her chin and bring her gaze up, “I’m also proud of you for saying what you needed. Now, we just have to get you to do that out of the bedroom.”

“Practice makes perfect, right?” There’s my little brat.

“Cheeky. But not wrong. We’ll work on it together, yeah?” I say, pulling the comforter over both of us as Kam’s eyes start to close, “Love you, Princess.”

“Mhm,” Her short answer lets me know that she is absolutely fucked out and I’m chuffed, “Love you, Daddy.”

Her fingers work their way through my chest hair, something I’ve noticed as a comfort activity for her. If I was a cat, I’d be purring every time she does it. But if she ever found out how much I liked it, she’d probably use it against me somehow. Little minx.

I listen as her breathing evens out and I’m not far behind. I can safely say today was a good day. Nothing can ruin this feeling.

Can it?

Chapter 9

A/N: Ehehehe, that ending sounded menacing at all, did it…? Well, anyway. This chapter’s song was “Starving” by Hailee Steinfeld & Grey. “Starving” is about a relationship that’s getting more adventurous in and outside of the bedroom. I really enjoy writing in Walter’s POV, especially the kinky stuff. Hopefully, you enjoyed it too. 

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