#just dealing with vet stuff this week

[joemxcmillan]

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[danifesting]

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[monstersandmaw]

Male fox spirit x female reader (nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

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Commission #4 in the list of 5! Thank you for trusting me with your prompt:  female reader saves a dying fox on her way home from work, who turns out to be a fox spirit. I hope you like it!

Contents:  Fox suffers a spinal injury when hit by a car (not the reader’s); there’s some magic; some domestic fluff; oral sex, fingering, him coming on her; and a sweet, fluffy ending.

Wordcount: 4400

Driving rain greeted you full in the face as you shoved open the main doors of the building and burrowed down into your coat, drawing the hood tight around your head in a vain attempt to keep the weather out. Nights like this — cold, damp, and at the tail end of winter before Spring took a proper hold on the land — were truly miserable.

Your fingers were half frozen by the time you had fumbled the keys out of your pocket and clambered into your car, and you fired the old thing up with a hopeful grimace that it would start. It coughed to life and you uttered a little prayer of thanks to whichever gods or spirits out there might be listening. “Now if only you could do something about my pathetic love life as well,” you said to yourself as you reversed out of the parking space and headed towards the main road. “Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

Half an hour outside of town, your headlights flashed over something lying on the side of the road, sprawled halfway across the white line, and you swerved instinctively to avoid it. Mercifully there was nothing coming in the other direction, or you’d have caused a serious accident. Adrenaline spiked through you and you slammed on the brakes.

The flash of golden-red you’d glimpsed had told you it was a fox, but it had had its head raised and it had been looking at you with its eyes flaring yellow in the headlights, but the expression on its face had struck you to the core. It had looked… resigned. Like it knew you were going to hit it. Like it knew it was going to die.

“No,” you said through gritted teeth.

You had some old work gloves in the back of the car from when you’d taken a load of stuff from the garden to the dump a week before, so you put your hazards on and slid out of the driver’s side door and into the worsening storm. You cursed softly, squinting amid the stinging rain as it struck your face like little iron nails in the gusty night. You cleared a space in the trunk for the fox, spreading an old picnic blanket out and grabbing those thick leather gloves. No need to get rabies if the thing bit you before you could get it to an animal clinic in the morning.

You knew it was a stupid thing to do, that cars hit wildlife all the time, and you really weren’t equipped to deal with it, but you couldn’t just leave it there when it had looked so sad; black ears drooping, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Making your way along the edge of the deserted road with only your phone torch to light the way, you found the spot where the fox was still lying on the asphalt, and crooned softly to it. “Hey there,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright. Let me help you out… Let me take you home and see if I can take you to a vet in the morning…”

When your light found its back legs though, your heart sank. They lay limp and slightly twisted to one side. Its back had been broken by the impact with a vehicle.

“Oh baby,” you said, fighting sudden tears. “It’s going to be ok…” you lied.

Was it like with humans? Should it not be moved with a spinal injury? It would probably die anyway, or they’d recommend putting it down. You could at least take it in and keep it warm for its last few hours. When you knelt nearby, it just laid its cheek down on the cold tarmac, defeated, and let out a long, broken whimper.

“I’m going to pick you up, ok? Please don’t bite me. God, this is such a stupid thing to do…”

The fox licked its shiny black nose and just blinked slowly at you.

When it made no move to attack you or snap at you when you got nearer, you scooped it up and marvelled at how light it felt in your arms, its lovely, russet fur damp and matted.

“There,” you said, cradling it in your arms as you carried it back to your car. ‘Him’, not ‘it’, you saw when you set him down on the blanket and stroked his head and neck. He murmured softly, the sound almost a purr, and you swallowed thickly. He was so weak, you wondered if he’d even survive the journey home.

Five cars overtook you as you drove on after that, all beeping and honking their horns and flashing their lights to get you to go faster, but you absolutely would not be bullied into making this last car ride hell for the little, injured fox.

It didn’t take very long to set up a cosy den of blankets and towels in the kitchen by the radiator, and when you were satisfied that it was as comfortable as you could make it — and that any mess would be contained in an area with tile floors — you went back for him. He was still lying on his side, exactly as you’d left him, but his eyes seemed brighter and more focused, and his ears pricked up when you opened the trunk up and gazed down at him.

“Alright?” you asked and he gave a soft snuffle that was half-sneeze and half-chuckle. “You’re awfully perky for someone who’s just gone head-to-head with fast-moving traffic, buddy,” you smiled. “Maybe you will be alright. Ready to go inside?”

You had your gloves on but it didn’t feel like you really needed them, and when you settled him down on the veritable blanket fort inside, he heaved a great sigh and nuzzled his cheek against the fabric with a rumbling moan of contentment.

“You hungry?” you asked. “I don’t have much that’s fox-friendly, but I think there’s some ham in the fridge. Let me check.”

You offered him a saucer of water first, holding his delicate head up as he lapped steadily at it until he’d had his fill, and then you fed him little slivers of cooked ham which he took from your fingers like an absolute gentleman. “Aren't you dainty,” you chuckled as his small, sharp teeth pulled the next piece carefully free of your gloved hand.

He fixed you with such a flat, patronising look that you had to laugh.

The fox flicked an ear and looked away.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you said in a baby voice. “Don’t be grumpy with me, you precious thing… Here, have some more…”

He sneezed, then looked back at you and opened his mouth, head tipped back like a baby bird awaiting a worm.

“You’re not going to take it? You want me to feed you?”

He just stared at you without moving.

“Fine, your highness,” you said. “Anything for you.”

You let the piece drop into his tilted jaws, and then chucked him affectionately under the chin with your finger after he’d chewed and swallowed it.

He caught the leather of the glove’s fingertip in his teeth in a move that was so fast you didn’t even see it, but then tugged gently, insistently.

“I’m not taking this off,” you frowned. “You could have rabies for all I know.”

A tiny, rattling growl, like the world’s tiniest chainsaw, rumbled out of him and he folded his ears back indignantly before pulling on the glove again. Then he let go, his ears pricked about as far forward as he could get them, and he stared expectantly at you.

“No way, friend,” you said, and stood to put the empty ham packet in the rubbish bin.

With your back to the kitchen window, a golden light flooded the room, and for a wild moment, you thought someone was driving straight at the house, headlights blazing. When you whipped around though, you froze. The light was coming from… from the fox.

“The fuck…?”

Your heartbeat started to race, and you weren’t sure if the ringing sound was coming from your own blood pounding in your ears or from something else in the room. The brightness reached such an intense crescendo that you had to look away, shielding your eyes with the crook of your arm until the chiming noise stopped and you lowered it cautiously back down, blinking.

There, standing in the centre of the room, was a man.

You took a step back, fear crashing in on your senses.

You looked around for something you could use as a weapon, but a warm, gentle voice said, “Wait, I won’t hurt you. I swear it.”

Again, you went still, and after taking a steadying breath, you turned to face him again, wide eyed and shaking. “What the hell?”

“Not hell,” he smiled, and you saw that he had warm, tan skin and dark, golden eyes. His hair was a russet colour, and it fell in soft waves around his ears to the nape of his neck. He was slender, not especially tall, and he was quite possibly the most beautiful human being you’d ever laid eyes on. Except… there was still a kind of glow around him, like an aura, and his clothes looked like they belonged at a Ren Faire or something, though the dark green, belted and embroidered tunic was finely tailored and his dark brown boots looked soft and well worn. Tiny points of light, like fireflies, twisted slowly through the air surrounding him before vanishing into a miniature, glittering starburst.

“You’re not human,” you said, despite how crazy it sounded.

“No,” the man replied with a smile. “No, I’m not. But you didn’t know that when you took in an injured fox and cared for him.”

“You’re the fox,” you blurted without thinking.

“I am. Sort of,” he smiled, and you saw that he had perfect, white teeth, with slightly more pointed canines than humans usually did. “I’m a fox spirit. There are all sorts of us, and we’re known by many names all over the world, but the most famous is probably the ‘kitsune’ thanks to modern media.”

“Oh,” you said, only half aware that your vision was darkening around the edges until it was too late. The blood roared again in your ears and your knees went out from under you. The last thing you saw was a flicker of a frown on the man’s — kitsune’s — face before he lunged towards you with hands outstretched, and the world went black.

You stirred and found yourself lying on the sofa in your sitting room, with your feet raised about a foot or so off the seat cushion, and a stranger in green standing over you, holding your legs up by the ankle. The kitsune. The fox spirit.

“Got to say, that’s the first time someone’s actually fainted because of me,” he said with a smile, lowering your legs back down and stepping back. “Are you alright?”

“I fainted?” you asked stupidly, pushing yourself upright and swinging your legs slowly off the sofa and onto the ground. You swayed a little, but didn’t pass out again.

The fox spirit nodded, his lovely hair shining with strands of bronze and copper in the low light of the room, gold eyes glowing as if back-lit. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a quiet, earnest baritone.

“Did I, though?” you asked, staring openly at him. “I mean… you’re… magic, right? I saw the way your legs were just… Your back was broken…”

“If you’d hit me with your car, or simply left me there for the next driver to do the same, then I wouldn’t have survived. We’re tough, and our magic can heal most things, but not that.”

“Oh.” And then your cheeks went hot and you looked at the carpet, “I’m sorry I baby-talked you like you were an actual animal.”

He laughed; a beautiful, bright sound like dry autumn leaves in clear sunlight. His head tipped a little way back and he looked truly delighted. “You weren’t to know,” he said, still chuckling. “And you’re not the first.”

“Oh,” you said, like a broken record.

From where he stood nearby, the fox spirit smiled at you and then inhaled deeply. “I… should go,” he said, his golden eyes turning a little sad. “Let you return to your life…”

“Wait,” you called from the sofa as he turned away. “What’s your name?”

He cast you a look over his shoulder and the smile he gave you was wry and amused. “You may call me Rowe.”

There was a nuance there that you weren’t understanding, but you told him your name in return, and he inhaled suddenly as if you’d struck him.

“You would part with your name so carelessly?” he whispered, brows pulling together into a frown of utter confusion. “You…” and then his expression cleared and his shoulders dropped. “You have never had dealings with the fae, have you?”

“The… fae?” you stuttered. “Like… fairies?”

The smile that replaced the frown was patient and amused in equal parts, and he sighed and shook his head. “Well, here’s your first lesson. Never tell your true name to a fae.”

Again, all the sound that escaped you was a dull, “Oh.”

He exhaled and approached you, and you tried not to lean back, to lean away from him. This whole night had gone from bad to utterly bizarre in the blink of an eye and you felt a little sick from the whiplash.

To make matters all the more confusing, the strange man knelt before you, sweeping his long, otherworldly tunic out of the way as he sank down onto one knee like he was going to propose or something, and he bowed his auburn head. “You saved my life without thought of debt or repayment, and in recognition of the gift, I give one of my own. I bind your True Name to my heart and hold it there in silence. I may never speak your True Name aloud unless you give me leave so to do. This I swear upon my spirit and my magic and my own True Name.”

The air in the room prickled like static and you had to fight the urge to see if your hair was standing on end. Goosebumps flickered along your arms and legs, and you drew in a shallow breath. “Anything else I should know about?” you asked faintly.

He looked up at you and shrugged. “We’re allergic to iron,” he suggested. “And we’re overly fond of cream and sweet cakes…”

“Sweet cakes,” you repeated thoughtfully, eyes drifting towards the kitchen where you’d bought a strawberry sponge cake just the day before, and an idea half-formed in your head.

Rowe smiled and your heart slipped sideways in your chest for a moment. He was so beautiful it was almost hard to believe he was really there and really standing in front of you. Well, technically he was kneeling like a knight in a fairytale. Fairytale indeed, you thought.

“You don’t have to go,” you whispered.

You were afraid of sounding childish, that if you spoke too loudly, he would think you desperate and would laugh at you, but all he did was tilt his head to the side the way he had done as a fox, and he nodded once. “Alright,” he said.

“I mean, don’t feel like you have to stay either,” you babbled, making a rather pathetic, flapping gesture in front of you with your hands. “I just meant… you’re welcome to stay if you want to. I was going to cook some dinner and watch a movie… eat cake for dessert. I thought… I thought since you’ve had kind of a rough day, you might like to just… chill out with me for a while.”

“May I help you cook?”

“If you… If you’d like to?” you said, standing carefully and holding your hand out to him to encourage him up off the floor.

He slid his warm fingers into your palm, and got to his feet with the grace of a prince, and offered you another smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Rowe stayed with you for a week. You explained that you had to go to work or you’d get fired, and when you came back on the first day, you expected him to have gone, leaving you wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been a hallucination brought on by the combination of a stressful week of work and the awful weather. But no, Rowe was there that evening, curled up as a fox on the impromptu bed you’d made by the radiator while the rain hurled itself at the window pane above him.

“Rowe, you don’t have to sleep on that!” you gasped, dropping your bag by the door and making him startle awake, ears pricked, tail fluffed up in rather adorable alarm.

In a flash of gold light, he was human again, standing beside the bed and smiling at you. “I don’t mind,” he chuckled. “It’s comfortable, and when I’m a fox, I don’t think in quite the same way as I do when I’m in this form. That’s how I got hit by the car in the first place… Please, don’t fret.”

You scowled at him, but relented, and asked him about his day. It seemed he’d spent most of it in his fox form, either out and about in the woods near your house, or sleeping by the warmth of the radiator.

“Didn’t you get bored here?” you asked.

“I could have done the housework for you,” he smirked. “But I thought that might have been an intrusion on your privacy.”

You laughed. “Thanks?”

After three days of sharing your space with him — he sleeping contentedly as a fox on the pile of blankets and you upstairs in your bedroom — you cleared your throat that evening as you sat together on the sofa like old friends, and said, “You know… uh… I… I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come upstairs with me… I don’t want you to feel like you have to sleep down here like you’re a…” you trailed off, flushing hot with awkward embarrassment.

One russet-brown eyebrow climbed a little higher than the other. “… a what?”

“Like you’re some kind of pet… you know…”

Rowe laughed and, as it always did, your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks dimpled and Adam’s apple danced in his exposed throat and you ached. It felt like a long time since someone had touched you; since you’d been held, let alone kissed. He had a beautiful mouth, like he’d been made just to tempt you.

Some of your thoughts must have shown on your face because the laughter died in his throat and he fixed you with a look that was all concern. He murmured the name you’d given him permission to use when it was just the two of you and asked, “What’s wrong? I’m not upset about the animal comment,” he said, reaching for your forearm and trying to reassure you, but you shook your head. “Then what?”

Tears came unbidden to your eyes and you turned away. His hand felt hot through the fabric of your hoodie, but his grip was feather light. It would take nothing at all to pull yourself free, but the thought of it seemed overwhelming. “It’s nothing,” you choked, pressing your lips together and hoping he’d let the matter drop.

He didn’t. His eyes flared bright gold and he scowled at you when you risked a glance at him. “The fae can always taste a lie,” he said with the slightest growl to his voice. “And I can tell you’re hurting. We were laughing, and then… you weren’t. What changed?”

“It’s —”

A short, animal growl echoed in his throat but he bit it back, shut his mouth with a click of teeth, and glared at you.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed, standing up and pacing across the room. “It’s been a long time since it’s been this easy around someone, ok? And it’s not every day that a handsome, cute guy with a great sense of humour shows genuine interest in me. I just wished, for like half a second, that you might be interested in me, but I get it. You’re not even human. I was nice to you. You probably feel obliged to stay here. You… You should probably go soon anyway.”

His expression turned from concerned to carefully neutral, and he stood. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said, “Then I can leave. But you should know that I’ve had a wonderful time with you, and…” he swallowed and took a breath, “I think you’re beautiful, through and through.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “Don’t bother trying to spare my feelings.”

“We can taste a lie, but we cannot tell one,” he said evenly. “I could not tell you that your clothes are yellow when they are not, nor that the sky is green, nor that you are not beautiful.”

You turned slowly around to look at him, and found him glowing gold again, those points of light spiralling lazily in the air around him. The slight shape of fox ears seemed to be picked out in two, brighter lines above his copper hair and behind him you saw a golden tail swaying back and forth. His eyes blazed bright like burnished bronze, and he was staring directly at you as he spoke.

“Oh.”

“I would very much like to stay with you, and share your bed, and, if you would let me, I would bring you pleasure too.”

Your breath hitched and you licked your lips. He even spoke like he was out of a fairytale. “You mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” you smiled.

Together, you tidied up the sitting room, and he followed you upstairs, still glowing softly, as if he were utterly contented and couldn’t help it.

Rowe undressed with you in your bedroom, baring a body like polished bronze; all lean lines and languid muscle, and you almost couldn’t look away. He asked if he could shower with you, and gently washed you and touched you, cupping your breasts and trailing his hands down your sides with reverent care. He passed his thumbs over your hardened nipples and kneaded your breasts until you gasped and tipped your head back, eyes closed. He teased between your legs with his fingertips, and then when you turned the shower off, he kissed your forehead. In a rush of magic, both your bodies were completely dry and your skin glowed softly with a thousand, dewy, golden sparkles. You beamed up at him, and he kissed you.

When he drew back, he led you by the hand into the bedroom and you lay down on the bed, heart racing. He knelt between your parted knees and you stared openly at his beautiful body. He looked like a statue come to life, and his cock had been more than half-hard ever since the shower, even as he turned his attention wholly on you and skimmed his palms up your thighs. You parted your legs a little wider for him and he bowed forward to kiss along your inner thigh until you shivered and lay back on the pillow behind you with a gasp.

He kissed you and tasted you, moaning softly before letting his tongue sweep up over you. He took your sensitive clit between his lips and kissed you there as well, and then he slid his arms under your thighs, lay down on his front, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of his mouth.

You lost count of how many times he made you come that night, with his tongue and with his fingers, but he never asked for more than you were ready to give.

“Come on me,” you murmured. You had no idea how well your current contraception would withstand a magical fae, but you were pretty sure you were safe with that, and when you asked, he nodded.

His fingers were slick from where he’d made you come, again, and he closed his hand around his cock with a low groan that dissolved into a gasp as he brought himself to the brink. He glowed gold again and you saw those ears made of light and the tail gleaming vividly behind him just as he spilled over your stomach with a muted grunt and another beautiful moan.

The golden light suffused the room, and you watched his expression as he came — open and vulnerable and achingly beautiful — and wished more than anything that he would stay.

When you woke in the morning, you expected to wake alone, but the warm pressure of Rowe’s body pressed against your back and the weight of his arm across your waist drew a little inhale of surprise from you. Apparently that was enough to wake him, because he kissed the back of your head and mumbled a sleepy good morning into your hair.

He was hard too, you realised, and you deliberately rocked your hips back against him.

Rowe let out a grunt and his hand shifted to your hips, drawing himself closer to you with a languid, answering roll of his hips.

“I don’t know if the fae have weekends,” you said, “But today is Saturday. I don’t have to go in to work…”

“Good,” he said. “I’m not sure I could let you go anywhere today after last night.” He said it with a laugh that told you he would let you do anything you liked, and you rolled over to face him. The softness in his smile brought one of your own to your lips, and he slid his hand down over your breast and then down between your legs.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped his fingers easily inside you, and you rolled onto your back as he started a rhythm that would end in the kind of pleasure you had only ever dreamed of before him.

He smiled and kissed your cheek without his fingers once faltering, and whispered in your ear, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me.”

You gasped and bucked, and almost missed his promise.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

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Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, since that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not informing my pet's previous owner that he died?

I adopted a gecko off of Kijiji around a year ago. She had a different name when I adopted her but I ended up renaming her Fingergun when I adopted her. It was clear that her original owner cared about her quite a lot and after talking to her, I realized she was only rehoming because she was moving into university and couldn't bring Fingergun with her.

After I picked Fingergun up, her owner messaged asking how she was settling in and I sent her some pictures and said she was doing well with some specifics on her behaviour. Over the next week, her owner messaged every day or two for updates. I was happy to provide them, especially since it was obvious that Fingergun was very loved and cared for. I rescue and rehabilite reptiles fairly frequently (Not as an official rescue, just over Kijiji or Facebook Marketplace, sometimes partnering with official rescues) so it's rare for me to see somebody in as good condition as Fingergun. It's important to note that I got Fingergun for myself, not as a rescue/rehab case (Which I usually rehome or pass on to some rescues I partner with when I can).

Over the next few months the requests for updates kept coming but less and less frequently until around three months ago before Fingergun died, when they stopped completely. I expected that her owner had moved on and I didn't want to send unsolicited updates in case I jeopardized the healing process or annoyed her or something.

Well, around three months ago I had a house fire due to entirely unpreventable causes. I wasn't home and was honestly devastated when I found out. I lost Fingergun and one of my cats (I was at the vet with two new rescues and had just dropped the other cat at the groomers when it happened).

Although I only had her for a year, I really loved Fingergun. I handled her every day and we were working on some minimal training.

The whole issue here came up only recently, about a week ago.

Because there hadn't been any more messages from Fingergun's original owner, I decided not to tell her what had happened. I didn't see any reason to upset her out of the blue, especially when I know it was mid-exams for her uni and I hadn't heard from her in months. I honestly thought the update requests had stopped until she messaged a week ago, asking how Fingergun was doing.

I was honest and told her what had happened. I also sent her a couple pictures of Fingergun from the day before. She was silent for a day or so before she responded and essentially asked why I kept it from her/didn't tell her sooner and insinuating that the fire didn't happen/I made it up to cover something up.

I haven't responded yet since I'm still busy dealing with the insurance and stuff from the fire and I'm honestly at a bit of a loss here. I'm not good with people, there's a reason I refer my critters, but am I the asshole here? Should I have told her when it happened or even just lied and told her everything was fine when she asked?

[frozenjokes]

Toys Like Tape Measures (And A Brand New Splint!)

tw for drugging, though only in the medical sense. however, because of the language barrier, Mumbo doesn’t understand what’s happening really, so if that makes you uncomfortable I would skip

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Mumbo heard Scar before he even reached the clearing, and he couldn’t be more excited. Scar was back, (and Grian was there too) he was finally back after being gone all week! “Today we’re going to fix that splint- ope- don’t make that face at me yet, let me explain, let me explain. I promise it will be 100% safe.”

“So many things- so many things, Scar, but you are not a doctor, much less a veterinarian- how do you even think this is going to work? Mumbo won’t even let us touch him, what makes you think anything about this will be safe?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of research, Grian! I’ve talked to every large animal vet I know, and a few fish people as well! This big ol’ bag on my back you’ve been nagging me about has everything we’ll need! Well, except the fish. You’re going to have to catch a few of those.”

“Scar! Fishing in this spot isn’t even very good and you know it, if you needed fish, why wouldn’t you bring any.”

“Forgot.”

There was a small silence before the two humans burst into the clearing, climbing through the path they’d ended up making through the brush by walking through so many times. Mumbo surfaced to greet them, though they were still preoccupied with each other.

“Of course,” Grian groaned, sighing as he threw down his bag, “Guess I’ll get to it then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Scar beamed, patting the other human hard on the back, who made a soft oof sound before scuttling away, moving to hide its face from Scar as it turned a reddish color. Odd. Usually Grian would yell at Scar for doing something like that, rightfully so (Mumbo still didn’t understand why Scar would randomly hit his friend), but instead Grian was far more meek. Had something happened? Maybe since Scar was hurt, Grian was taking a more passive role than normal. Mermaids were gentler with sick friends as well, and Mumbo knew quite well he could get away with more when he was unwell.

But it was good to see Scar looking healthy. His shoulder was still bandaged, visible under his shirt, but he couldn’t be feeling too badly given his bright demeanor, and his movement didn’t seem to be impaired at all. Thank goodness.

If it was even possible, Scar brightened further when he spotted Mumbo, happily throwing off unnecessary clothes before hopping right into the water, showing absolutely zero signs of fear. Oh, that was a weight off Mumbo’s back; he didn’t even realize how worried he was about Scar being afraid of him until now, until Scar very clearly wasn’t. Good, good..

Mumbo met Scar in the shallows, deep enough that he could keep his tail from dragging on the sand, but shallow enough where he could navigate with his hands; he was in near constant pain even with a week to recover, and while slow, pulling himself along the bottom with his hands caused the least agony on his tail. His splint was sufficiently broken now, only getting more uncomfortable with every passing day. At this point, Mumbo was just waiting for it to fall off; trying to figure out how it was attached was far too painful, though he had tried briefly a couple of times (with little success).

“Hello, Mumbo!” Scar greeted him, “I’ve got something you’re going to like. I’m pretty sure you like human stuff, so you’ll get a kick out of this.” Scar held up a small silver object, round, but not quite circular. Mumbo moved to get a closer look, though he couldn’t lift himself very far out of the water, so Scar crouched down to get it closer. “Tape measure.”

Mumbo squinted. “What.”

“Tape measure.” Huh. Weird word. Usually human words weren’t that long, though, maybe Mumbo had only learned the shorter ones. Was this a human tool? Mumbo attempted to snatch it, but Scar was faster, jumping back with a surprised look on his face. On his perch, Grian laughed.

“I told you! I told you he’d try to take that, and you won’t be getting it back.”

“Well he can have it if he wants, but not before I’m done!” Scar huffed, then turned back to Mumbo, speaking sternly, “No.” Mumbo stared, unamused. He could have guessed Scar didn’t want him to have its human tool, that didn’t change the fact that he was going to take it.

“Scar,” he tried, reaching out a hand a little slower. Maybe it wouldn’t see? ‘Your human object. Give me.’ he continued in a whistle due to the lack of human words, but Scar only huffed, an incredulous smile across its face.

“No!” Scar repeated a tad more forcefully, but Mumbo could see the smile on his face, he knew well enough he could keep trying. Mumbo moved a little forward, hoping to get within reach, but Scar stepped back, then back again, rolling his eyes, “You’re going to make measuring you really difficult, Mumbo.”

“Yeah,” Grian said from across the way, a small laugh in his tone, “I’d say I’ve got plenty of time to catch something.”

“You will, but this is not the reason!” Scar yelled back, pointing an accusatory finger, but the smile never left Scar’s face, and soon his focus was squarely back on Mumbo (who definitely hadn’t tried to snatch at the device while it was distracted).

The tool made a soft whirring sound as Scar pulled on one end, a flat yellow line appearing from inside the device, then snapping back when Scar let go. Whoa. What was that? What was the purpose? Scar moved a little bit closer, pulling the yellow line further this time, but when Mumbo managed to touch it, the line snapped back into the silver device with a sharp crack. Huh. Was it alive? Maybe it was shy? It looked a little bit like a snail..

“What.” Mumbo said, hoping for more information, but Scar only put his hands on his hips, making a show of his annoyance.

“I can’t show you if you keep trying to take it from me!” Nonsense. Guess Mumbo would just have to take it to figure it out for himself.

The next thirty minutes was an odd dance of Scar struggling to keep his distance while also trying to line up the tape measure with Mumbo’s body, and Mumbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the game. The tape measure hurt if it snapped back on Mumbo’s hand, but if anything, that only made the game more exciting. Even with the limited use of his tail, he found himself splashing far more than usual, a certain recklessness brought about only by play. He didn’t even want the tape measure anymore (lie), he just wanted to keep up the game. Scar did not like the game as much, less and less as more time passed, but Grian seemed amused at least, occasionally looking over to laugh when Scar stumbled or outright fell over.

“I could use a little help here if you don’t mind!” Scar called, and Grian laughed again, the sound coming out more like a cackle.

“I thought you had it handled? You kept insisting you were fine, what changed?”

“He just won’t stop moving! Listen, I’ve measured plenty of animals, but they don’t usually have hands! He’s being impossible- he knows I’m not trying to hurt him and he knows I need him to stay still and he’s just not listening! On purpose! This was supposed to be easy!”

“He looks like he’s having fun, I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade.”

“Grian! Help me!” Scar cut himself off with a yelp as Mumbo lunged for the tape measure, but he didn’t get far with his limited mobility, so Scar stepped easily out of reach. He was lucky Mumbo couldn’t use his tail, lucky. With another short laugh, Grian got up from where he was fishing, making his way gingerly off the rocks and giggling as he went before stepping into the water as well. Ah, so another challenger joins the fray!

Though, with Grian holding one side of the yellow line, Mumbo couldn’t quite grab at it anymore, the whole thing bending and snapping like it might break in two if Mumbo wasn’t careful. And that wouldn’t do, no no, how could he figure out its purpose if it was broken?

Instead, he stilled so he could watch instead- wow the line went out so far! How much could fit in there? How far could it go? Mumbo moved to follow the humans’ movement, but they seemed to want to pull the line the length of Mumbo’s tail, chirping nonsense to each other the entire time. At least Scar looked excited; it was always nice when Scar was happy, nice enough that Mumbo didn’t mind all that much that their game was effectively over. Mumbo didn’t love how close they were getting, but a small flash of his teeth was enough to get Grian’s attention, who communicated to Scar in Mumbo’s stead.

It wasn’t very long before the two of them were satisfied though, Grian easing the yellow line back into the tape measure. Mumbo took his chance, lunging as quickly as his impaired mobility would allow, but Scar surprised him by turning around instead of jumping away like normal. While Mumbo was scrambling to keep himself from running face first into Scar’s legs, the human tossed him the tape measure, the thing plopping heavily into the water. Mumbo gaped for a moment before grabbing it, but when he resurfaced, Scar was walking toward the shore, chatting away with Grian like the tape measure didn’t mean anything at all. Well.. okay.

No matter! Mumbo had a new toy, and first he wanted to know just how long this yellow line was. The answer was very long. Mumbo lodged one end under a rock and swam as far as the line would allow, and while he was quite impressed with the length, he was even more excited when he let go of the metal base, the whole thing shooting back in the other direction. Yes! Yes! Mumbo did the same thing at least seven more times before getting a little bored, then experimented with the tape measure above the water, where it snapped back much faster. The height of his fun was setting the end of the yellow line under a rock on the surface, bringing metal end to the other side of the cove, then letting go and watching the thing skirt across the water, splashing all the way. He was relatively sure he made some sort of trill or other noise in his excitement, as Scar and Grian’s laughing caught his attention. Mumbo cringed a little, suddenly very aware of their eyes on him, but his embarrassment was short lived, outweighed by the joy of funny human trinket.

Mumbo would have spent the rest of the day playing with the tape measure, but something else caught his eye. Scar was working on something- no, he was making something. Mumbo had never seen a human make something before- not in the way Mumbo liked to do! Scar’s creative process looked very similar as well, which is to say, all the materials he brought were strewn all over the grass, wildly unorganized as he fiddled with different parts. Most of his materials were long metal rods, but there were also some leather looking pieces, and what looked like parts of white tubing as well. What was he up to?

Mumbo shimmied as close to the shore as his tail would allow, hoping to grab Scar’s attention. “What. What. What,” he said in human, hoping the extra emphasis would translate through the repeated words.

Scar looked up, clearly amused, but seemed to struggle with explaining, starting and stopping speaking several times before settling with, “For you.” Not very helpful, and Scar knew it, making a couple of vague gestures at Mumbo before giving up and going back to his project. Well.. that was fine. Mumbo would just have to watch.

Scar was mostly focused on the leather piece, positioning it in a circular way and winding the metal through to create a cage-looking structure. The leather was adjustable too, Scar fiddling with a buckle on the front to make the entire thing wider or smaller. Mumbo was particularly fascinated by the white pieces though, much flatter than the rods, which Scar only weaved through one side. Why? He tried to ask again what the human was doing, but was only offered the same non-answer.

“Oh!” Grian made a surprised noise from his place on the rocks, and Mumbo saw his line tighten. If only he was fast enough to snag whatever was on it off the hook, but alas, Grian was already reeling in a decent sized fish. Scar hopped to his feet and Grian let out a celebratory noise of his own; it was so cute how humans got so excited about every catch. Though, in all fairness, Mumbo would have been quite chuffed catching a fish that size, especially this hungry. Maybe if humans really didn’t eat the fish they caught, they’d be open to sharing.

Grian scooped the fish off the line with a net, maneuvering the hook out of its mouth before walking it back toward the shore to Scar, who cheered all the while.

“Right,” Grian said as he hit the sand, “You want to give this to him? I’m assuming you’re going to drug him or something.”

“That’s the plan. I was considering a tranquilizer, but I don’t want to make this experience traumatic or anything, and hauling a big ol’ rifle out here might put a damper on some of the trust we’ve established. Hopefully this way he’ll just be real relaxed, maybe even take a nice little nap.”

“You’re not trying to put him to sleep? What are you giving him?”

“Not necessarily, but I doubt he’ll be able to stay awake. Trust me when I say he won’t be in pain, definitely not. And I brought a cone, too, just in case he freaks. I came prepared, Grian, prepared I tell you. I’m no large animal vet, but you could say I’ve been quite involved in many a procedure.”

“Scar, what are you giving him?”

“Like.” Scar paused, tapping the smile on his lips, “A lot of morphine.”

“Morphine?”

“Works on fish. Mumbo’s big, he can handle it, and anyway, it’s the safest option for everyone involved. Are you worried about our friend, Grian?”

“I’m not- how did you even get morphine, Scar?”

“Scar’s not taking any more questions at this time, please call back later. In the meantime, hand me that fish so we can get this show on the road. I’ll stay with him as long as he needs me, but I’m not expecting anything to go wrong here. Still, the sooner we start, the better.” Scar got to his feet, taking the fish net from a gaping Grian and heading back to his bag. Mumbo couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but Grian followed quickly after, fretting the entire time. What, was something wrong with the fish? Scar didn’t seem to think so.

Maybe Grian hadn’t wanted Scar to give Mumbo his catch, but Scar did regardless. Mumbo was more than happy to accept the gift, only throwing Grian one mildly guilty look before devouring the whole thing. He didn’t feel very bad, not really; clearly the humans ate well enough, and given he was having a hard time hunting right now, this seemed fair.

Eating only served to brighten his mood, and with the slight weight off his chest, watching Scar continue working on his human device was all the more fun. Grian went back to fishing on his rock, but he was acting more anxious than normal, stealing glances toward Scar and Mumbo just about every time he cast his line. Though, it didn’t take very long for Mumbo to stop caring, far more intrigued by whatever Scar was up to. It was crazy how much better he was feeling; usually the joy of eating didn’t carry so far after a meal, but when Mumbo was this hungry..

And then it hit him; he wasn’t in pain. The lightness he was feeling was from the lack of hurting- oh that couldn’t be good. What kind of fish was that? He hadn’t even looked! Please say he hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself… Mumbo didn’t feel nauseous though. And if he’d poisoned himself, he imagined he’d be feeling a lot sicker. And he had so much energy! Anyone with this much energy wouldn’t be poisoned, that would be ridiculous! He should do something- go somewhere- hunt- he could do anything! … Nevermind.

Not in pain, no, but tired, goodness, maybe he was dying. Probably not. But maybe. Honestly, he didn’t care all that much. Scar was looking at him an awful lot now, though Mumbo wished he would focus on his invention instead so Mumbo could figure out what it was before he died. Hm.. It kind of looked a little bit like his splint, didn’t it?

…

The gentle touch of skin on scales. A presence around his neck, tight, mildly uncomfortable, but not enough for Mumbo to want to do anything about it. A crack, loud enough to frighten him, to open his eyes, but there was no pain, so it must not have been bone. Something was draped over his eyes, dark like home. It was nice. A couple of clicks told him of Forces, big and near and moving; he should probably swim away, but that’d be quite a bit of effort, wouldn’t it. Maybe another time.

His fins rose and fell with the presence and absence of touch. Not unpleasant. Not until they tried to lift him.

Pain like thorns lit his blood, everywhere, pain, pain- Some sort of noise escaped his throat, something animal, and he moved without coordination- it hurt, everything hurt now. Distantly he heard them, humans, why were humans here? Talking, they were talking nothing, repeating the same words again and again, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Couldn’t they see he was in pain? Why weren’t they helping?

Too much time passed before his attackers released him, but wasn’t sitting in the water the same as before. It was awkward, unpleasant honestly, but he stopped struggling quickly. Too painful to move. Too much effort.

He wanted to curl up. Somewhere dark, somewhere enclosed and safe. Something hard stopped his movement. Guess that was that.

But maybe that was fine.

Whatever had been there was gone now. Nothing else was trying to hurt him. That was good. That was enough.

…

The humans were talking. They were loud, Mumbo could hear them, though his face burned just slightly, a dry feeling. Was he above the water? It didn’t much concern him.

“He’s still asleep, Scar.”

“That’s fine. Normal, even. He’s going to be fine; if he was going to have any bad reactions, I’m pretty sure we would have known by now. I’ve been keeping an eye on his breathing, and it’s stayed consistent this whole time. He’s okay.”

“You said four hours. It’s been five.”

“Yeah, for a human on a human dose. I also told you I don’t know exactly how it’ll work on a mermaid. I doubt anyone knows. I gave him quite a bit more than a human dose anyway, and I’m pretty sure he needed it. He was freaking out when we were trying to get the splint on.”

“I just don’t like the fact that we drugged him without being sure how he’d react.”

“I don’t know what else you wanted me to do, Grian. He was not going to let us touch him, and I don’t think there’s any world in which we could have explained what we were trying to accomplish. Tail injuries could be fatal for mermaids, we don’t know. How’s he supposed to eat if he can’t swim? It’s not like we can weigh him. This was the safest option.”

“You really think we couldn’t have explained it to him? He’s smart, Scar, he’s really observant.”

“I don’t know, I think there’s a chance. But what would happen if he got scared? Even a human might’ve panicked, even if they knew every detail about what we were doing. And you know how strong he is- I’ve still got bruises on my arms from where he grabbed me. He could have hurt himself or us completely by accident.”

A long silence. “I know.”

A longer silence.

“So when’d you change your tune?”

“What?”

“About Mumbo. Nearly every day two weeks ago you made sure to remind me how you were totally going to kill him and sell all his parts or whatever, but I haven’t heard a peep from you since Monday. Did you come out here without me and have some sorta spiritual experience or what?”

“I- no. Of course not. I’m still planning on doing that, I just decided I’d spare your feelings and stop talking about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! And anyway, with you paying me egregious prices for my fish, I’m not exactly hurting for money right now. So it’s fine. I’m not in any rush.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Stop- stop talking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

“Well, Grian, that’s going to be a problem because you’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“I- how dare you! I am going to do it! I could do it right now even, but I won’t, and not because I don’t want to, but it wouldn’t be fair, not while he’s all drugged up.”

“I see.”

“Stop it!”

“I believe you, I believe you.”

“No you don’t!”

“Shhh,” Scar said, his voice dropping, “No fighting,” he trailed off, and the silence was charged with something new, something Mumbo picked up on even in his half-asleep state.

“No fighting,” Grian repeated softly, “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Mm,” Scar acknowledged him quietly, but spoke no more words, and neither did Grian. That, or Mumbo had just fallen asleep again. Possible, all things considered. That was okay.

[indecenthoney]

"The Puppy Problem"

--------------------------------------

There comes a time in your life when baby fever hits you a little too hard. Leaving you fully convinced that the only thing you need right now is to have a child. To the point, that you get a little too obsessed and the only possible cure is to actually get the deed done. This is exactly what happened to my girlfriend who has continually tempted me this entire week. Despite us both working, I have explained that raising a child takes more than just two paychecks. It includes saving and planning and a whole lot of other adult stuff. In her defense, she responded that it would be more than enough and threw in some "girl math" to sweeten the deal. If you had only seen the horrendous look on my face as she explained her reasoning.

"I-... No... What? No... We are not having a baby... Now can you please get off me? I know what you're trying to do and I am not going to breed you in the heat of the moment... Especially, if you just want to have a baby... Why not? It's because we're still young... You can barely get out of bed... How do you expect us to function? Okay okay... I know our kids are going to look cute... but that's not a reason to have a kid right now... No... And that's final... Ughhh c'mon don't look at me like that... Seriously... No... It's too soon... You're not going to let this go, are you? Okay... I am going to regret this but... This is how it's going to go... We'll adopt a puppy and if we raise him right... and you can prove that you'll be a good mother then I will think about having a baby... Emphasis on thinking about it... Deal? Alright alright... get off me now... Hey! Hey! Stop grinding... Fucking sneaky..."

After working out the details of the arrangement, I dropped by our local animal shelter to adopt a puppy. During the adoption, they had mentioned him being 4 weeks old and a golden retriever mix. Not that I had much intention of choosing a specific breed, but more so choosing him because he looked like the sun. Golden fur and a jovial personality. If we wanted a kid so badly, I thought the pup should also be similar to the mother. In all honesty, I've always seen my girlfriend as a sort of pup herself seeing as how she circles around me every time I am home. Maybe having a pup will bring out a motherly side of her. Who knows? She might turn out to be a wonderful mother. On our way home, I bought a few things: puppy bowls, puppy food, collars, a puppy bed, and even puppy toys. You can tell that I went a little overboard with all of this. After carrying all the things in, my girlfriend comes rushing to the door all excited. She played with Sol for hours and even took naps together. Completely tuckered out. We named him "Sol" by the way. After tucking them both in, I snapped a few pictures before hitting the hay myself. A few weeks passed by, and we soon learned that raising a puppy wasn't all fun and games. It also meant bringing him to the vet, cleaning up his mess, and working around our schedules to give him the attention he needed. It left us little to no time to do the things we wanted.

"Hey hun... I'm going to take Sol for a walk... No, it's okay you should rest... I think you need it... You look really tired... Get some more sleep and I'll handle Sol... I know I know... I want to cuddle too but Sol needs his walk right now or he's going to get antsy... You know how he gets... Now get some rest, I'm going for a jog and will be back in two hours, alright? Love you too..."

As Sol got bigger, he became a little too much for her. The little guy grew up to be very active and would often tire her out when it came to playtime. Luckily enough, I was able to keep up with Sol and used our time together to get the extra cardio in. Eventually, as the weeks passed, it would mostly be me and Sol spending time together leaving her to be home alone most of the time. It sort of led me to neglect her. Not that I knew, it was more of her not wanting to complain. Her mood quickly soured whenever I played or praised Sol. I would often find her tugging at my shirt but never really saying what she wanted. I would have sat down and checked on her, but Sol was already pulling on his leash for his walk. After our regular two-hour session, Sol walked off to his bowl to gulp down some water before knocking out in his doggy bed. After reaching the living room, I soon found my girlfriend completely hammered after nearly completing an entire bottle of liquor.

"Woah woah... What's the occasion? I didn't know we were celebrating... Jeez, you nearly finished the whole thing... I can't believe you're drinking alcohol... To be honest, I'm surprised you're still standing after all that... Hun? You... seem... mad... Why are you mad? What? Wait a minute... Hold on... There's no need to shout... and this was your idea, wasn't it? You're the one that wanted a kid so badly... I was only giving us a test run... H-hun? Awww hun... There's no need to cry... I'm sorry... Okay okay... I'm starting to get it... You must've been... really... lonely, huh? Drinking your sorrows away... What? Did Sol make you jealous? Yeah? See? And parenting is a whole other ball game... The baby would keep us busy 24/7... We wouldn't even have time to cuddle... What am I going to do with you? Mmm... I have an idea... Follow me... C'mon right this way... Ah, don't worry about him... Sol is going to be out for a couple of hours... More than enough to make up for lost time... Hahahaha... It's fine... It's fine... Let me take care of you, okay?"

Fuck. In the end, I was so focused on raising Sol that I ended up neglecting her own feelings. Even if I did have good intentions, I guess a part of me really wanted it to work out knowing how badly she wanted a kid. But seeing her this sad broke my heart. I wanted to make it up to her. Who knows how long she must've been feeling this way? After entering our room, I quickly pushed her against the door. Locking lips; intertwining ourselves. Pining for one another as if we haven't seen each other in ages. As cheesy as it may sound, I needed her like I needed air. It had been quite a while since I last tasted her sending shivers down my spine. The urge to take a bite out of her. To hear her scream my name in pain and pleasure. And though I hesitated, I would soon feel her hands pulling me in. Tempting me to do whatever I please on a condition. It being that all the attention in the world must be placed on her. No phone call or emergency could distract me from her gaze. And so I bite. Not a second wasted before pressing my lips against hers; muffling her moans. I acted on my excitement. Leaving her literally breathless. Abruptly, I retreat giving her some way to catch her breath. Only to see the desperate look in her eyes as I pull away. Longing for me to fill the void that I had placed.

"You know... You're really cute when you look up at me like that... Hun? Hahahah... There's not a single thought behind those pretty puppy eyes of yours, huh? Alright... C'mon, stand up... We can't have you melting in my arms just yet... Follow me... Mhm... Sit right here... Let's just take these off, yeah? What pretty little panties you have on... Hm? What're we doing in front of the mirror? Well... You're just going to sit down and see for yourself... Fuck... me... This wet already? Just from a little kissing? That's so embarrassing... Put it in? Hahahah... Sweetie... There's no need to rush... Of course, I can slide my fingers in... It's just a matter of if I want to... God... You're just soaking right through them... Look at the mirror... See? Aren't you fucking pretty... Now now... If you even think about looking away, I'll stop completely... Yeah? Good... girl... That's it... Mmm... Look at how leaky you've become... So naughty... It's okay... It's understandable... I haven't had much time to touch myself either, you know? So I know what you're going through... That being said, I'll stop teasing... Thank you for waiting so patiently... Good things come to good girls that wait, no? And you're a good girl, are you not? Exactly... I'm glad you think that because I have a little something something for you... Mhm... A collar... Pretty, right? There's no need to be shy... As soon as you put it on I'll give you what you want, deal? Hahahah... See? Nothing to be ashamed about... Now... Why don't we fill you with fingers you love so so so much... Ohhh fuck... Too much? You say that but you're not telling me to stop, are you? Let's go a little deeper... Fill those pretty little holes... Mmph... Hahaha... Yeah? That's my girl... Shhhhh shhhhh it's okay... It's feels good, doesn't it? Look at you... gripping around my fingers... I know you missed me... but I'm right here hun... I can barely pull my fingers back... Don't wanna let go, huh...? Such a needy little girl... "

After seeing how sensitive she was from just the rubbing, I opted to taking a much slower approach. It would have been boring to have her concede so soon. Knowing that, I guided my middle finger down; easing her in until she was ready for another. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the second pressed up into her walls. Her once empty cunt now filled to the brim causing her to throw her head back. Shallow breathes to shakey motions. My other hand pulling her back into the gaze of the mirror. Forcing her to watch as I toy with her for my enjoyment. Stuttering moans and heavy breaths escape her lips. Failing to communicate between my pulsing fingers. My arms and legs coiled around her preventing any chance of escape.

"Hahahahaha... Uhm... What was that? Hun... You're gonna have to pull yourself together if you want the slightest chance of me understanding you... And what do you think you're doing? Stopping me all of a sudden... Ohhhh? A break? But we just started... I mean... This is what you wanted, no? And now you're telling me to stop? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't finger fuck you senseless right now... Huh? You're going to... what? Pee...? Hahahah... And, so what? I'm not scared of little waterworks... Awwww is the filthy little pup gonna piss herself... You poor thing... Must've been all that alcohol... What a way to bite yourself in the ass... Please? And if I say no? What if I wanna see you make mess out of yourself...? Hm? Anything? Really? Fine fine fine... You have yourself deal... Let's go to the bathroom, shall we? Oop- Before I forget... Where do I put that leash of mine? There we go... Just gonna put this on... and mhm... ready to go... Huh? Well... I'm bringing you to the bathroom, of course, silly... Joking? Me? Hahhaha... No no I'm dead serious... And all you have to do is keep your end of the deal... C'mon quickly... We wouldn't want to ruin the sheets more than we already have... The sooner we get this over with the better... So get on all fours... After all, you're just dumb little pup that doesn't know any better... How can I trust you to piss properly when I can't even leave you alone for a second? Now... be a good girl and crawl for me..."

With some reluctance, she made her way off the bed and to the floor. Her back perfectly arched leaving room for temptation to fuck her right then and there. She attempted to quickly scurry off to the bathroom to avoid any further embarrassment. But was brought to a complete halt as I tugged on her leash. In her confusion, I once again pulled to signal her back to me. Her gaze avoiding eye contact at all costs whilst questioning my motives.

"Well, aren't you excited? Hahahah... There's no need to rush... You should really know better, hun... We can't have you running off, can we? Let's take it slow... Mhm... You're doing such a good job... Almost there... Fuck... It's cute... The way your ass shakes with each step... I'm starting to think we should collar you more often... Would you like that? Hahaha I'm just kidding... Kinda... Here we are... Woah... Not yet sweetheart... You need to ask for permission... and then I'll let you piss... Good things come to good girls that wait, remember? Need to make sure that you're trained... Shake. You heard me... Shake. Good girl... Such a quick learner... Alright... Sit. Oh? Alright alright... Bark. What's the hold-up? C'mon, hun... Bark for me... Hahahah... Fuck... No no, you did good... You're allowed to piss now... but you have to piss like a mutt... Yes... Still on all fours... Raise your leg and piss... Embarrassing? Well... I could always stick my fingers in and mess with your insides until you piss yourself... No? Alright... so do your best..."

Relieving herself quickly took a turn for the worst as the golden liquid dribbled down her thigh. A rollercoaster of emotions were displayed before rivers of tears ran down her face. I found myself conflicted between guilt and the sick kick of her own embarrassment. Nonetheless, I was proud of her and praised her for her efforts. After wiping the tears, I hurridely ran a bath for the both us to better unwind from this interesting little experience. Unfortunately, my member was still fully erect. A particular part of me that couldn't really be ignored as it throbbed against her ass. I sat there in silence trying to repent for my crimes. But even then, she was gentle with me; easing me from my suffering. My cock that felt the cool sensation of the bath soon enveloped by her pulsing, hot cunt. Speaking too soon, I experienced a more insufferable punishment. We laid there motionless. God. I wanted to fuck her. But to risk ruining her mood even further would be a fate worse than hell itself. I was unsure of my disposition. Was she mad? Was that too much? I pulled gently on her collae to reveal the nape of her neck. Placing kisses awaiting some sort of response.

"I-... Uhm... S-sorry I really don't know what came over me... and if you're upset I completely understan- Huh? What... am I waiting for? What do you mean?"

My mind went blank over the course of this conversation. I was completely perplexed. Even after pissing herself, she had the audacity to question my determination. She sat there. Unsure of whether I was going to keep my word and take care of her or have her do all the work herself. In that instance, it would be said that I had completely lost, but I had my own pride for these sorta things. I honestly didn't give her enough credit. She wasn't just some puppy girl or frail princess. She was a lady. A lady with needs. It's not something complicated like a dog eat dog world. It's simpler than that. It is to use or be used. And how am I a man, if I were not to satisfy and fulfill those very needs. Fingers slipped through narrow openings and hooked their way around her collar pulling her down even deeper into my hips. The once, cold tension had subsided. Water violently splashed; spilling out from the sides due to shaking hips. The shrill shriek of her voice slightly choking. Truly a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Mmmph... Fuck... You don't understand how much I've missed this, baby... Aaa... God... I-I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had spend another... FUCKING... week of not being able to touch you... Hahahah and from the looks of it... You feel the same way, huh? The way your pussy tightens every time I pull harder on your collar... Awww... Speak up, princess... Tell me how much you love it... Right here... Right now... I'll even reward you... Give you as many puppies as you want... Breed you over... and over... Fill your pretty little holes to the brim... No? Hahahaha a little too late for a no... A bit heartless even... Stopping me this late into the game... Do you not want puppies anymore? Not right now? Here I thought our kids were going to look cute... Well, you better do something quick... cause the closer I get I'm starting to think I really do want kids..."

Her splendid body towered over me as I lay watching in the tub. She straddled me but leaned in for a kiss before guiding my cock back into her. And here I thought, I had scared her with the whole bit but maybe she did want kids after all. At this point, I didn't really care. Nor was I in any position to stop her. Something was a bit off. A bit tighter than usual? I wanted to move but she had my arms in lockdown, asking for another minute to adjust. Even just kicking my leg up a bit would cause her to bite down into my shoulder. Maybe she came? After a while, I decided to do the moving on my own. Slow, shallow strokes. Fucking into her as if we had all the time in the world. Her bites slowly transitioned into moans muffled into my shoulder. She sunk deeper into my arms; placing kisses on her forehead. Reassuring her to leave everything to me. Nearing my limit, I grasped her waist with both hands before cumming into her. A euphonic blend of moans bounced off the bathroom walls which soon after was filled with laughter.

"Hahahah... I felt like I came buckets... That's kinda gross actually... I'll shut up... Hahahah... Youuuuu okay? We really have to find time for ourselves... I could always have the neighbor kids to walk Sol around... To be honest, why haven't we done that sooner? Right? Hahahah... Uhm I'm sorry for neglecting you... I should've checked on you sooner... Silly... I love you... I know how important having a kid was to you... so I wanted it to work... You know? I'm glad we got this sorted out... Now let's get you cleaned up! I don't want you catching a cold... And maybe... grab you a plan B... What do you mean no? You want to have a kid? But I came in you... I came in your... Oh... OHHHH! No wonder you were all flinch-y... That's kinda hot..."

After cleaning ourselves up, we took our time in bed to cuddle and talk about everything that happened. Luckily, Sol was still sleeping soundly in his bed by the time we were finished. It gave me more than enough time for us to reconnect and flirt. A kiss here and there. A little, spicy makeout session that almost turned into another round of explicit scenes. But I digress. I would even go on to tease her by calling her a "good girl". In my excitement, I guess I was a bit loud. That was when we heard scratching at the door. It was Sol pawing and whining wondering where we were. After opening the door, he would rush onto the bed and snuggle up to the mom. I quickly followed and joined the party. The three of us were happy and tuckered out after a long day. Who knows? Maybe one day soon, I wouldn't mind having a kid. Or two. Or... three.

------------------------------------------

With love and lust,

Honey

[99problemsandallofthemarefandoms]

Puppyshipping ramblings

I like to imagine that Kaiba's need to slap his name on everything would translate to a relationship. Not outwardly possessive (cause like who could he lose to when he is rich, hot and a genius) but instead unconsciously protective.

So he would just end up dressing Joey in Kaiba corp t-shirts or he would buy "himself" hoodies and Joey would appropriate them. I love when one person is a clothes thief. I just imagine Joey grabbing something from a drawer and throwing it on not caring as long as it fits. Kaiba can do nothing to stop him nor would he want to. (He will not admit how cute Joey looks)

Matching accessories when they go out and dress fancy cause Joey insists on going with Kaiba to some of his fancy business parties (a. just cause he is spoiled for attention b. the food is really good) which surprisingly the snooty business people find Joey amusing. Partially cause he has bard level charisma and he cleans up well while trying his best so Kaiba will bring him to more.

Instead of a necklace I think it would be cute if he got Joey a keychain that matched his and Mokuba's. He never says anything about the significance but Joey thinks its so cute and sweet then spends the rest of the week showing it off.

I love possessiveness but honestly Kaiba is too confident for that. Joey could be but I think his whole emotional development from the early chapters would have him put a big deal of trust in Kaiba to not worry about the masses throwing themselves at Kaiba. Plus with Kaiba's attitude to people he is not interested in is a big confidence boost when he can easily get the oh so important business man's attention without having to schedule a meeting. (Ok Joey can just walk in but since he had been granted VIP privileges at KC after an incident with some rookie guards he tends to schedule ahead just cause he is a good BF.)

Secretary has Joey on speed dial for Kaiba's bad days when he gets in the mood to start firing people. Kaiba wouldn't really cause that's a loss in man power and it takes too much time to vet employees but those bad days make the other workers stressed.

(I still can not find the damned fic that put this idea in my head) Kaiba starts collecting Red-eyes merch to match the Blue-eyes merch. Its starting to bug him not all of the statuettes have a matching counter part. (Joey finds this super fucking sweet. Since there is not enough Red-eyes merch he arranged the few Kaiba did find to have at lest 3 Blue-eyes around each one. Joey finds it hilarious that Red-eyes has a haram. Kaiba refuses to comment the new arrangement.)

I stan Joey being able to cook. Nothing too fancy but its good. I imagine its from having to take care of himself and working odd jobs some of which landed him in a kitchen or two. Also from these jobs he has a random amalgamation of knowledge. Nothing like any fancy computer stuff but he knows how to take care of a garden, could build you porch and the like.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Losing your pet.

Triggers: pet loss; talks of depression.

Author note: I had to put my cat to sleep at the beginning of the month, he was my baby so things have been really rough lately. I'm hoping writing this will help with grieving and it may be posted it may not be. If it is I hope it helps anyone who is also experiencing something like this.

Eddie:

You call him when you were freaking out about what to do. You were awoken by your animal crying out and knew they needed a vet but it's so early in the morning you don't know where to go.

When he got the call he was instantly worried for you. He knew how much having your animal helped you cope with your depression and he didn't know how losing them would make you react.

He rushed over and took you two to the 24 hour vet.

He was there to hold you as you cry, he talked to the vet for you, he called the place to make arrangements for the remains

He'd offer to have you either stay at the trailer or for him to stay at your house. He thought being in a quiet house would make you feel worse and since it happened in your room he knew you wouldn't be able to sleep in your actual bed for a while.

The two of you slept on your couch for a week after everything happened.

He would set even more reminders to help remind the both of you that you need to take your medicine

I think he would have you come and sit in on a DnD session to give you entertainment and take your mind off of things, he'd feel pretty prideful when it works

He wouldn't rush you to do anything. There is still a box of litter, still a collar, still toys on the floor oh thats fine! We can get rid of it whenever you are ready to. You want to get a new pet great! Let's get into the van! You don't even want to be around animals that's fine too!

He will map out the store trips to make sure you do not have to even walk by the pet supply aisle if you can't handle it

Steve:

He paid for everything. He knows money doesn't fix much but he didn't want you to be worried about paying for anything.

He never had a pet but he knew how close you were with your pet and he knew you were going to take it hard.

He would make sure you ate and took your medicines, he isn't the best cook but he can do basics so it was about a week of mac and cheese before you started cooking again.

He had you stay at his house, he would worry about you being alone so he made a plea deal and convinced you to stay with him. It's already pretty big and there is more than enough room for the both of you

He would try and get you a new pet better soon after everything happened

I think he would try and get you to talk about your feelings, either by making you therapy appointments or getting you stuff to journal he doesn't want you to keep things bottled up

He tends to treat it as any other heartbreak. There will be days where you two just eat junk food and watch sad movies and when that happens he doesn't mind holding you as the both of you cry into your bowls.

Billy:

Alot of people would probably say Billy wouldn't be that helpful.

I think he would struggle with knowing what to do, he could tell you were struggling but he freezes when he doesn't know what to do.

He would make some sort of comment that made you start crying and that is when he realized how serious this situation was. "It was just a cat/dog/bird/lizard/etc. get over it." Seeing you break down in front of him was his wake up call.

He would bring take out everytime he came over, he'd act like it wasn't a big deal but he knew how much it meant to you.

I think if you were to journal it would be because of Max and if/when Billy tried to make fun of the new habit you both would give him a look that made it clear to back off and he took the warning loud and clear.

I think the next time he sees a stray he would pull over and try and take it home for you. He either comes home with the animal successfully or he comes home covered in scratches and is refusing to speak about what happened.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭

part two of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: masterbation. sexual fantasies. kinda perv behavior but not really??

word count: 3.0k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: i seriously contemplated on whether or not I should post this chapter, after all of the events of this week. I want to make sure that I am cautious and sensitive to everyone during such a painful time. but in the end, I decided to post this since perhaps, it might help a few of you out there who are dealing with so many emotions right now. I cried while I was writing this last week because it brought up so many feelings that I felt when I had to put down my dog almost 2 years ago. so if this chapter make you sad, please don't feel bad about that or think that you're alone, because I swear that you're not. next week's chapter will be a little bit on the lighter side of things (but just barely). take care of yourselves, okay?? take everything one day at a time. allow yourself to feel a plethora of things, or nothing at all. everyone is different and processes things at a variety of paces. this isn't a race, this is life. and as always, my asks/dms are always open if you just need to vent to a listening ear. I love you guys, and... stay strong, yeah?? ❤️

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

You decided to schedule the appointment on a Sunday afternoon, that way you’d be off of work. Since the night you had spent with Dr. Lee in the waiting room after hours three weeks before, he had continually checked up on you throughout the weeks by way of numerous phone calls. And it felt like, with each one that passed, they seemed to grow longer, as the two of you talked about everything and nothing - all in hopes of trying to get your mind off of the imminent date. 

 From your daily phone calls, you had gleaned some valuable information from Dr. Lee - like the fact that he had been single since he opened up the clinic three years prior since it was pretty hard to keep up a long-term relationship when he was so busy with clients and managing a successful business. 

 You didn’t even know how the topic of romantic adventures came up in your daily wellness calls, but all at once, you were confiding in Dr. Lee about your most recent boyfriend which had broken up with back in university. But you didn’t go into too much detail about the relationship, and you skimmed over the… bad parts of it all. 

  You alluded to your horrible breakup with your ex during the conversation, and you briefly mentioned your ex’s awful treatment of you at the very end of the relationship - but you never crossed the line of professionalism and confessed to all the bitterness you still held for your ex. No, you didn’t think Dr. Lee needed to know such intimate details about your life. But also, he probably wouldn’t care. After all, the phone calls were only a means to an end… 

 And besides, no one else in the entire world knew the extent of your old relationship, so you didn’t see any point in telling a random veterinarian about such a dark part of your past.

 The calls seemed to help somewhat - if only to take your mind off of the looming date. But then, as soon as Dr. Lee hung up, your thoughts were clouded with the pain of losing Nyx all over again. 

 Slowly, you were watching her deteriorate. Dr. Lee warned you that things would go downhill quite fast, and fast they did - since Nyx hardly wanted to eat her meals anymore, even when you’d try to coax her with her favorite treat of a fresh sardine. She was incredibly lethargic and because of the weight loss that she experienced from the lack of an appetite, her thinness only caused more pressure to be put on her legs, which was where the cancer was located. 

 Throughout it all, Dr. Lee did a tremendous job of preparing you for the day - the day that you were expecting to take the place in your mind as the worst moment in your entire life. The two of you planned it so that his schedule was completely free for the procedure. Originally, he told you that he usually doesn't accompany his clients into the euthanization room, and instead leaves it up to the vet techs to take care of the protocol. But without you even having to ask him, he assured you that he’d be with you the entire time - that he’d be the administer of the drug. Because he already knew, that having anyone else there with you wouldn’t help, not in the least bit. Sure, Yongbok and Hyunjin and Seungmin were good techs, but nothing could compare to the utterly calming presence that Dr. Lee alluded… with his soft, brown eyes and his slight smile and- 

 You were thinking about him again- damn it. 

 Because besides being cluttered with the pain of losing Nyx, your mind was also full of so many thoughts about… him. 

 And how, ever since that night in the clinic, he had continued to call you by your first name. No honorifics, no pretense. And even though he felt familiar and warm to you, you still felt somewhat uncomfortable to drop the doctor title. You wondered if he thought it was odd, how he was addressing you informally, and yet you were still doing the ‘keep it professional’ bit.

 When you were busy working at your desk throughout the day, you found your eyes constantly moving over to the side to check your phone. To see if he had called you.

 While you were eating your packed lunch by yourself in your office’s break room, your mind kept replaying the way that it had felt, when he had touched you that night - with those slender fingers and warm palms of his. 

 When you were lounging on your apartment’s small sofa, watching tv before you went to bed, your thoughts drifted off to the sound of his voice, and the way that he always said your name so delicately. 

 But perhaps worse of them all, is what you would do late at night, when you lay wide awake wrapped up in your duvet covers in bed. Because instead of thinking about Nyx, your musings drifted off to him, yet again.

 And perhaps it had something to do with your exhaustion from the end of the day, 

 Or the fact that it was so very dark in your bedroom, 

 But more often than not, your imagination would get the best of you, and all at once, things were turning deeper, dimmer…

 Flashes of him, and that smile that he always gave you when he first saw you during a visit, danced across your vision, 

 As you imagined what he’d look like, staring you down, bright eyes glued to your exposed self. 

 You dreamed about that pretty, red mouth of his, lips turning kiss-swollen and sticky from your very essence. 

 You wondered how it’d feel, to have him towering over you, whispering sinful words into your ear with that sly tongue of his, as he pressed you further down into the bedsheets. 

 And when those thoughts came upon you, you just… couldn’t help yourself. 

 Hand playing with yourself- 

 Grazing over pert buds, 

 Tickling a sensitive waist, 

 Spreading swollen lips, 

 Brushing against a throbbing knot, 

 Pushing past folds and curving inward. 

 And every time, the only thing that crossed your mind, was him. 

 Him - and his smell and his voice and his built frame. 

 In those heated moments of twilight, you only ever made one single sound as you thrashed about between your thick duvet covers…

 “Minho.” 

 The name fell from your bitten-raw lips in whispers, cries, and pleas. 

 Maybe it was because you hadn’t been with a man in so long, 

 Or maybe it was because you were a grown woman and so naturally, you were extremely horny most of the time. 

 But all at once, as you delved into such fantasies late at night, you realized that the attraction to him had always been there. 

 You had just tried to mask it with honorifics and professionalism since you didn’t want to cross any lines. Since you figured that a man of his stature - of wealth and success - would never stoop so low to date a woman like yourself. 

 Even still, none of that stopped you. 

 Stopped your midnight explorations or the way that he seemed to inherently infect your very being with every breath that you took throughout the day. 

 But eventually, the crest of sadness took over everything again, as the day finally came to a head. To your relief, the weather outside on that Sunday afternoon was bright and sunny. You didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if it had been grey and drizzling. 

 You stopped just outside of the clinic’s doors, forcing yourself to take a good look at it all, as you held Nyx in her carrier at your side. It’d be the last time that you stepped through these doors with her in hand. 

 And that’s when the tears started. They silently traced down your cheeks, even as you shuffled through the clinic’s front doors slowly. The bell above your head signaled your arrival, and as if on cue, Jisung and Chan’s heads turned in unison from their computers at the front desk to where you stood at the entrance of the clinic. 

 In an instant, Jisung was getting out of his chair and flitting over to you. “Hi, Y/N,” he said in a soft voice, offering you a gentle smile. “Hi, Nyx.” He bent down in front of you, peering into the black carrier and cooing at your cat. 

 “How long is the wait time?” You asked, voice shaky as you clutched a little harder on the handle of the carrier. 

 Jisung peered up at you then, his big, doe-like brown eyes shining with compassion. “About ten minutes.” 

 You nodded without saying another word, as you began to make your way over to the front desk to check in for your appointment. The entire time you spoke with Jisung, Chan had been watching the two of you in silence, assessing the atmosphere and displaying a compassionate face.

 “Ji said it’s gonna be ten minutes.” Is all you said, as you stood in front of the wooden front desk. You couldn’t meet their eyes anymore, your vision too blurry with tears. And frankly, their pity just made you feel even worse just then.  

 “Yeah, that’s about right,” Chan began, typing away at his computer. Then he slid over a clipboard and had you sign your name at the end of the document. Signing away on the procedure. Signing away on Nyx’s life. “And… I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

 “Me too.” You whispered before you were pulling away from them and taking a seat near the doors to the back of the clinic. Usually, while you waited for your appointment, you’d scroll through social media on your phone or pick up a nearby magazine and peruse the articles. 

 This time, you just sat there. You sat there in utter despair and silence, before deciding to pull out Nyx from her carrier. She was a little less warm than she had always been, and the thinnest you had ever seen her. Even still, she looked beautiful to you. You pressed your face into her midnight-black fur, taking in the sweet smell of her and nuzzling into her pliable skin. 

 “I love you so much, girl,” you muttered into her coat, before giving her a few kisses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you…” 

 The minutes ticked by slowly after that, as you clutched on protectively to Nyx. As you kissed your childhood best friend. As you fought for the last seconds spent with the single most stable thing in your entire life. 

 And then, you heard the fateful call of your name ring out across the waiting room. You stood from your chair, muscles moving like they were trapped in a vat of sticky molasses. Your gaze was fixated on the ground at your feet, so you didn’t see who had called your name. 

 “Right this way,” it was Hyunjin’s angelic-like voice that graced your ears, as you walked through the threshold and into the back hallway of the clinic. You felt his hand land atop your shoulder, his slender fingers gently squeezing there in a soothing gesture. 

 Then he was leading you through the back hallways, past the examination rooms that you had sat in with Nyx countless times. Finally, he stopped just in front of a door that was painted in a baby-blue color. 

 “The doctor will be right with you,” Hyunjin began, his tone ghostly-faint and fading away behind you as your eyes locked with the room you were about to be left alone in. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” 

 You didn’t even register the door being shut closed behind you, too focused on the decorations that were placed throughout the room. The walls were painted a sky-blue, with a beautiful stain-glass window in the center of the room. The scene depicted a magnificent sunset, bursting with colors that were burnt cayennes and violets. The room was quite small, but the bright, real flowers placed throughout the area helped to add life to the otherwise depressing atmosphere - with their brilliant yellows and reds. Just underneath the stained glass window was a small pedestal that was covered in a thick duvet and plastic rap, and off in the corner of the room was a sliding glass window with a curtain shielding the other side of the glass. 

 You sat down on the nearby bench, looking at everything around you. Looking at the pedestal that was before you - where Nyx would be laid to rest. And it felt like your heart was bleeding irrevocably inside of your chest, straining and pumping at the same time as you tried to come to terms with the situation at hand. 

 At least she was going to join the afterlife in a safe space - at least it was beautiful looking and- 

 Your thoughts were interrupted by the shutting of the door that you had originally walked through. Lifting your head from Nyx who was peacefully dozing in your arms, you came face-to-face with Dr. Lee. He was dressed in his usual garb of black slacks and a white doctor's coat. 

 “How are you doing, Y/N?” Was the first thing he asked, as he shut the door behind him and neared you. He knelt in front of your knees, taking both of your hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. 

 That’s when you managed to find the courage to look up into his eyes finally, and the heartache and pain that you found there just made it hurt a little bit more. You felt your bottom lip quake, as the sobs freely flowed from you. You didn’t even have to reply since he already knew how difficult this was for you. So he kept quiet, not moving from his position in front of you and holding onto you as you cried yourself to exhaustion. 

 “I-I’m ready,” you finally said, roughly scrubbing at your eyes with the palm of one of your hands to try and knock some sense into yourself. 

 “Are you sure?” He questioned, the concern dripping in his voice from the way that it deepened somewhat. 

 You nodded furiously, heart hurting so much that it felt like you were going to drop dead from a heart attack any minute. “Y-Yeah.” 

 Then his hands were slipping away from yours, leaving a fierce shiver to course down the length of your spine at the absence of his touch. He stood close to the curtained window and tapped on the glass once, and you turned your head to the side just in time to glimpse Yongbok pushing the glass aside before he handed over a metal dish that had a small syringe placed in it. 

 You swallowed around the huge lump that was forming in your dry throat. And when Yongbok offered you a sincere, comforting smile, all you could do was nod once before he was shutting the glass door again, pulling the curtain closed to give you and Dr. Lee some privacy. 

 Then it was all happening at once - too quickly for you to even grasp - as Dr. Lee was gently taking Nyx from your grasp and laying her down on the cushioned pedestal. She put up no resistance and nudged her little black nose into the palm of his hands, purring in satisfaction. She had always had a soft spot for the doctor. 

 You stumbled over to her, grabbing hold of one of her paws and squeezing it delicately. You peered up at Dr. Lee through hazy eyes, his face a blotch of color shining through your tear-stained vision. “P-Promise me it’ll be painless, doctor. You- you have to promise me…” Your voice broke off at the end of your words, as you leaned down into Nyx and pressed kiss after kiss into her silky fur. 

 “She won’t feel a thing, Y/N. I promise.” You heard Dr. Lee say before he was moving again, picking up one of her paws in bated silence. You felt his eyes on you, as you cried into Nyx’s warm skin for the last time. 

 “I love you so much, girl…” You whispered, voice barely audible to your ears. Cracking irrevocably. “I’ll see you again someday- so... just wait for me there, yeah?” 

 Then, almost like she could understand your words, Nyx moved her head over to your neck and nuzzled into you, purring lowly. The sobs wracked through your body, as you felt Dr. Lee leaning into her at the same time as you held her close. 

 You squeezed your eyes shut, like if you closed them long enough, everything would disappear. 

 The pain, 

 The loss, 

 The fear. 

And then just like that, Dr. Lee was sighing heavily, a metric ton of agonizing weight in just his breathing alone. “It’s done.” 

 In the blink of an eye, it was all over. 

 You clutched onto Nyx’s languid body, holding onto her for dear life. Perhaps, if you held her long enough, she’d come back. 

 But nothing happened. 

 There was no more purring, 

 Or meowing, 

 Or scratching. 

 Just… 

 Utterly nothing. 

 Silence. 

 And that was the worst part about it all. 

“It hurts,” you began, voice not even sounding like your own from all of the dryness and the crying, “it hurts so fucking much.” 

 You were shaking your head then, still clutching at one of Nyx’s little pink paws. Then you felt arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest. Hands clutched at your sides, and you all but turned around to bury your face into the warmth of Dr. Lee. 

 “I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his deep, melodic voice so close to your ear that it sent a ripple of shivers across your skin. “I know it hurts, Y/N, but I’m here…” 

 And then you could do nothing more, 

 As a new wave of grief washed over you, 

 Suffocating the very air right out of your lungs, 

 Drying out your entire being, 

 Causing the dull pain of a bad headache to bloom across either of your temples. 

 All you could do at that point was cry and cry and cry, your entire body violently shaking as you held onto Dr. Lee for dear life. And he made no point of pulling away from you. Almost like, he had planned to be there all along. 

To be continued...

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🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad

©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[millerflintstone]

Had to order a new fridge today. Just great. Our current one is temporarily mended by Unfriendly. He used magnets to trick the unit. The doors were closing but the magnetic latch wasn't connecting to trigger it so the fridge just turned off. We don't even have a super fancy fridge. Ordered a pretty basic one using an employee discount I get.

It's currently cooling and all of our food is in 3 coolers. One Unfriendly got from his job that is apparently expensive but kinda small.

We also had to take Gigabyte to the vet today. She started sounding congested and she hasn't pooped since her enema last Tuesday. Eating is a struggle though. Luckily she's not constipated. She got an antibiotic shot and some drops for her nose. This vet practice upgraded to a hospital and I figured with my vet being closed until next Tuesday, having someplace close would be good. The vet we her was named Claire and very kind and gentle with her. I didn't want to drive her to the ER vet and cause extra stress with the nature of ER, the length of the drive. and the fact that she's not showing signs of a blockage. Not straining. Still interested in food but not eating enough on her own. Still wants to cuddle and purr, even though I'm the one who medicates her.

I'm just irritated with the world and not fun to be around in general. I'm glad my vet's office is taking a break but also really irritated because I wish they had back up staff or something. I really just want Gigabyte to eat and feel better but she's not feeling better. Realistically, she likely has that tumor on her adrenal gland and won't feel better until she gets meds for suppressing the extra hormone that's being produced but I have to wait another week to find out. Can I keep her alive until then? It's so stressful.

I'm irritated with the kitchen in general. First the sink / mold issue, then pantry moths, now we need another whole damn fridge. Hand washing dishes is so time consuming and letting them pile up is even worse. I mainly just wash the cat dishes and everything else is paper plates / cups etc. Unfriendly did a whole bunch of dishes tonight from the Christmas eve dinner I made, cat dishes and his lunch stuff.

I'm irritated with myself and my lack of organization and ADHD brain. I'm just sick of myself and am lashing out and no one is having any fun with that. I'm sure there's a pre menopause hormone thing going on too but that's another doctor visit to deal with at later date.

[margarethx]

I was genuinely surprised with the responses I've got on the first part of [THIS story]. It was such a random burst of motivation to write that I didn't even think it through and just posted whatever came out of my head. But I'm very glad that you liked it, since it's the first story I've showed to other people in like 4 years.

The working title will be "Assassinate them with Kindness", and I'll use that as a tag for later parts when I add them. It's also [available on Ao3] if you'd prefer to read it over there.

Enjoy <3

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The weird man does not go to Sam's group on Monday.

Which is not as big of a relief as Sam thought it would be.

Because if the man is not here... where is he? And why did he even ask if he could join the group? Was he just taunting Sam? Teasing him with the knowledge or Sam's schedule and whereabouts, but not revealing how and for what purpose did he get that information?

Sam briefly glances at his wrist, covered neatly by a long-sleeved shirt and a warm blazer. The day is way too hot for this type of clothing, but he refused to look at the bruises on his skin for more than two seconds after noticing them for the first time. He still feels the pain, but it's easier to make it fade into the background, if he pretends it isn't there at all.

In spite of his nervousness and constant worry, Sam leads his group like a true professional. Calm, collected, funny when needed. A shining example of an ex-soldier who has left most of their PTSD far behind by working hard to healthily rejoin society. Definitely not a person, who started carrying a gun in public again after singular weird encounter, and who constantly has to fight with himself to not look over his shoulder and check if there isn't anyone watching him from the shadowed backroom.

But the man was not there. The meeting went well. And all the people leaving the room with their polite "good bye's" and casual "see ya!'s" have no idea about the turmoil in his head.

"See you Thursday," Sam smiles pleasantly and grabs Tyler's hand with both palms, shaking it lightly, as a young vet stops by. "It's nice to see you again. It's been a while," he adds, hoping that his eyes convey genuine warmth.

Tyler is young - too young to deal with this sort of trauma. A typical example of a teenager pulled into a military machine by life circumstances, not because of any principled believes. He went to have a better chance at higher education afterwards. And he lost half of his right leg for it.

He is secretly Sam's favourite in the group, with his sense of humour and positive attitude. Though Sam is sure there is a lot of fears and sadness hidden behind all the jokes, because he acted the exact same way when he first sought out help after coming home. It was easy to see the reflection of younger Sam in Tyler's behaviour.

And it was also great to have someone in the group who could keep everyone's mood relatively light when topics were getting heavy, without making others feel as if their confessions were not treated seriously. It was, of course, Sam's job to control the atmosphere as best as he could , but on days like this - when he himself didn't feel stellar - it was a relief to not shoulder all the emotional weight of the meeting on his own.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wilson?" Tyler asks, also shaking Sam's hands a little.

"It's Sam, we've talked about this," Sam smiles, deflecting by playing their classic game of arguing over formality levels of their relation. It's a bit worrying. To know that he can put on a mask and his vets might notice his distress anyway. But no one else said anything, so maybe he fooled the rest of them successfully?

"Apologies. Is everything alright, Mr. Sam Wilson?"

Tyler sends him a bright grin and Sam sighs. He doesn't have much energy left to argue or pretend. He did not sleep very well last week, to put it lightly.

"I'm alright," he finally replies without much conviction. "It's personal stuff, you don't need to worry about this. It should be resolved by the next meeting," he adds, hoping that this little lie will make his situation look like a solvable problem with the end in sight. Maybe if he believes in it hard enough it would even come true?

For now, it seems that Tyler buys the explanation and drops the topic. As they exchange goodbyes, he still glances at Sam with a slight frown, but he doesn't push. It'd be unusual if he did. As much as Sam loves working with these people and helping them, they're not that close. His vets don't get involved in his personal life.

...They don't know where he lives, for example...

Sam shakes his head to stop himself from thinking and gathers the papers on his desk with a bit more energy than the task requires. He needs to get out of here. The conference room he uses is relatively big, but the walls seem to get closer and closer, the ceiling pressing down on him.

He exits the building, taking long steps, and avoiding everyone's eyes. Fortunately, most people he passes don't know him, so he's not stopped for any conversations about his last weekend and all the fun his co-workers had while he sat on his guestroom floor surrounded by unhealthy snacks, and wondering if it's reasonable to invest his meager savings in an upgraded security system.

It's embarrassing, when he thinks back to those three days. It shouldn't be that big of a deal.

But something about that man... About his eyes. About the bruises he left.

Sam really tried to not look at them too closely to avoid spiraling again, but he's pretty sure his skin almost broke in some places, as if pinched too hard. The only reason he didn't notice it right away was probably the sheer rush of adrenaline that flooded him in that moment and dulled the pain.

Once he's outside, Sam leans on a nearby wall, out of everyone's sight, unsure of what to do next. Even though he spent the last weekend hidden in his home, the place did not feel safe. All he could focus on were unusual noises or the headlights of random cars passing by, casting uneven shadows on his walls. At some point he was sure one specific shadow looked like a person, but when he carefully peered outside, his garden was empty, with the exception of a small bat the flew in circles under the nearest lamppost, catching moths in peace.

Normally, he'd stay, watching the little guy and reminiscing about the time he too could fly at such speed, but it didn't feel safe, so he moved as far away from the window as possible.

All Sam wants right now is to get back to his bed and hide under the covers, go to sleep, and wake up to realize that the whole thing was just a dream.

His bag slips from his shoulder when he slumps against the wall and the strap catches on his wrist. He hisses in pain, reminded once more - as if he forgot, somehow - that his paranoia is actually justified and that his home is not some safe haven he'd like it to be. Because someone strong enough to nearly break his bones with a strong grip knows where he lives and could come back at any second.

If the guy was a real vet, why didn't he come to the meeting?

And again... if he's not here... Where is he?!

Sam readjusts his bag and straightens up. He cannot come home right now, but he needs to sleep somewhere. He could ask one of his new friends to take their couch for the night... but it's not Delacroix and his friendships here are not on the "sleepover" level yet. And if the man decides to look for him, Sam would drag the danger to someone else's home.

He's not that selfish.

Maybe he could find someone on a dating app and stay the night?

He shudders at the idea. It reeks of desperation even to his clouded brain. He would not do that to some random innocent person. And he would not do that to himself. He has enough dignity left.

The mere fact that he came up with a solution like that sobers him up a little bit. It sounds almost ridiculous and he's sure he would laugh about it one day... if he lives long enough to tell the story about his lowest point post-Afganistan.

What he needs to do is to go to a public space. A place with cameras, a nice crowd with enough eyes, to catch if something's wrong - but not crowded enough that a person would fade into the sea of faces and moving bodies.

With that in mind, Sam takes another deep breath to calm himself and marches towards the nearest bar he knows. The place is probably half-empty at this hour, but an evening wave of patrons should start trickling in pretty soon.

The inside of the establishment is a bit too dark for Sam's liking, but as he sits at the bar he feels some of the tension leave his body at last. Behind the bartender there is a freshly cleaned mirror, showing most of the tables, so Sam can keep an eye on the room while eating.

He's not in the mood for drinking - mostly to stay vigilant, not because he couldn't use a nice glass of whiskey right now - but the place offers some typical fast food options, so he picks them from the menu instead. He'll have to really push himself during the next training session to pay for the sugar and fat intake of the last four days, but he feels like he's earned the right to be indulgent for at least a while.

As he eats, Sam observes other patrons suspiciously, looking over his shoulder from time to time. At some point he's sure he feels someone's eyes on his back, but no one new entered the building in the last twenty minutes and the people on nearby tables seem preoccupied with their own thoughts and conversations, so he's sure it's just the paranoia.

It's starting to get dark outside and the bar fills with shadows before someone turns on a few extra laps. There are more people sitting around Sam now, some staring in silence into their drinks, others talking casually, or flirting with the bartender, as per usual.

The guy behind the bar seems cute. Probably a bit younger than Sam's typical partner, but still in his bracket. He accepts the compliments with a calm smile not cutting them off right away, but not doing much to encourage the attention. Sam gets a little lost for a second, observing the man's hands as he prepares the drinks, almost hypnotized by the movents.

Suddenly, one of the patrons - one that's been sitting by the bar before Sam even came in - drops her wallet in a clumsy attempt to pay the bill. She smiles awkwardly at the bartender, who simply grabs the wallet for her from the floor, clearly used to similar shenanigans.

As the guy leans forward, a curtain of thin braids covers his face for a brief second and he glances somewhere in Sam's general direction from between them before standing up.

Sam freezes.

The man looks basically nothing alike the guy who stood at his doorstep last week, but something about that look causes the memories to flood Sam once again. He feels dizzy and the comfortable atmosphere of the bar becomes overwhelming and stuffy in a blink of an eye.

He nearly jumps out of his chair and makes a beeline to the bathroom. He's not sure why. He just needs to... Wash his face maybe. Look into the mirror and have a stern talk with his brain. Something. Anything! To finally calm down.

As he walks towards the bathrooms, he notices some man sitting in a booth he previously didn't see. He's dressed pretty formally, phone in hands, and an annoyed grimace on his face. He looks more like a person currently working than someone who just went for drinks to wind down after work.

His eyes meet Sam's which sends a cold shiver down his spine. For whatever reason, this man - looking like a banker or low-lever politician, which is a common sight in DC - scares Sam just as much as the creepy stranger haunting his thoughts.

He breaks the eye contact and darts towards the bathrooms even faster, nearly colliding with someone who exits the door.

There are three other people in the bathroom, two of which wash their hands and fix their hair in front of the mirror. Neither of them look particularly suspicious, but Sam keeps an eye on them anyway, walking towards the stalls and locking himself in one of them.

He sits there for less then two second before he realizes that he's made himself more vulnerable by isolating himself from the crowd, but he's really not sure what to do next. The brief moment of fear after seeing the bartender with hair hanging over his face seems silly in retrospect. He could've just ignored the panic, push the discomfort down, and go back to the main room. But the man in suit sitting in a secluded booth?

That was actually worrying. Because he didn't just look generally annoyed or angry. He seemed to be specifically mad at Sam. Which would be concerning with any other influential White guy, but in this particular instance Sam feels like there's more to it.

He hears another person enter the bathroom, interrupting his thoughts. Two of the people washing their hands leave. Someone else comes in. Sam keeps track of everyone inside and at some point he's pretty sure he's the only person still sitting here, so he quietly exits the stall.

Just as he expected, the bathroom is empty. It's a bit weird, all things considered. It's a Monday afternoon, sure, but this place is not alive just on the weekends and in the night, when students party. There should be a constant rotation of people going in and out at any point.

But the room is silent as Sam stands there, wondering what to do next.

He's pretty sure he hears some water running on the other side of the wall and muffled laughs, seemingly coming from a group of women washing their hands and talking in an adjacent room.

Sam's familiar with all the overdone jokes about girls visiting the bathroom way more often than guys or about them going there in hordes. And, stereotypical or not, there is some truth to those... but Sam's pretty sure it should not be this disproportional.

The man's bathroom has been empty for over five minutes. Which is way too long, considering the size of the crowd.

A motion activated light loudly going off in one of the stalls makes it even more clear that Sam's suspiciously alone in here.

He washes his hands just to do something when, finally, the door to the main part of the bar opens. A wave of sound - clinking glasses, loud conversations, a ringtone - fill the empty space until the door closes again, cutting the noise off.

Sam exhales with relief and moves to dry his hands.

Then he notices him.

The man from his porch, now standing behind him, staring straight at Sam in the mirror.

He looks even bigger now, taller, and more broad at the shoulders, his hair still covering the face like a greasy veil. His eyes pin Sam in place like a wild animal who's fight or flight instincts fired so many contradicting impulses in its brain that it ended up just freezing.

In any other situation Sam would feel vindicated. He was right! He was not safe, he was observed, and someone is going after him - for whatever reason.

He can take that useless sense of satisfaction and bring it straight to his grave.

The man doesn't move. He just looks at Sam or through him, maybe. As if he's mentally not here. Maybe his soul has also left his body, like Sam assumes his own did right now?

It's just like that day at his home. Awkward, tense silence and creepy staring. Sam feels the hairs on his arm stand up like a coordinated unit. His heart beats so fast and loud that it must echo on the bathroom's walls. If Sam's ears were not filled with ringing, he'd probably be more sure about that.

The man blinks, just once.

And something in Sam just... breaks.

When he'll think about it later he'll have no idea why he did it. But he simply turns off the water and turns towards the guy in one smooth motion.

"Oh, I know you" he says, tone casual.

The man frowns this time, still looking directly at Sam. One of his hands is hidden inside or his unzipped jacket and it twitches a little. Whatever he's holding there probably isn't a bouquet or a dove, he'll produce out of nowhere and present to Sam like a magician.

"Fancy meeting you here," he adds, like it's a normal conversation. Like they're friends from work or as if the man was his favourite cashier at a local store. "In the bar, I mean. Not in the bathroom," he jokes.

The man's face does a weird thing. It's difficult to tell what kind of emotion he wanted to convey, but he seems confused. Does he even recognize Sam? Maybe he's really not as mentally present this time?

The water drips from Sam's hands to the tiled floor - tiny rivulets running down his fingers. It's quiet again, just as before, until one of the other motion activated lights goes off in the stalls. Then the next one right after it. Click. Click.

The guy flinches twice, his hand moving under the jacket's lapels.

"Can I help you with something?" Sam asks finally. At this point it feels like his mouth is operating on its own, entirely independent on his brain. He's also there, but not really.

Maybe he's already died and hasn't realized?

"You didn't go to my meeting today." Why does he keep talking?! "Do you plan to join this Thursday?"

By some miracle, this question seems to work. The guy's eyes dart around nervously and he shivers as the last of the lights in the stalls section goes off. The room is dimly lit by now only by the small lights over the sinks. And Sam cannot ignore that they're still, somehow, alone in here.

"I'm sorry I didn't come today," the man says and he sounds sincere, though monotone. "There were too many people in there."

"Well, it's a group meeting," Sam smiles. "The people are kind of a given."

He feels like he's body is operating on a pure survival mode. It reminds him of his time in the military, in a way; of the time, where he had to put one hundred percent of his focus on staying alive and keeping other's from dying, too, but couldn't actually think about it. Because there were bullets flying by, and his hands were sticky with someone's blood, and there was a wound to stitch, and a person screaming. If he registered all of that in full, he'd just collapse on the ground, overwhelmed and paralyzed by fear. So it was easier to just switch his brain off and let the instincts and years of training take the wheel.

"If you're worried about confessing in front of others, it's okay." He keeps talking and the man's stare becomes even more intense. His eyes seem very blue, even in the poor lighting, which Sam didn't truly notice before. They look cold, but not because of the colour. More like there's not enough life in them. "There's no pressure to tell your story right away. Some people in my group love talking. Other's just sit and listen. If no one's up to talk, I take over and give a little speech," Sam grins.

And he somehow knows that if he looked into the mirror to his left, his smile would look genuine.

"I don't like talking," the man says eventually.

"I figured," is Sam's reply. "Like I said, I won't push you to say shit."

It's probably not the most professional way of phrasing it, but he's not at work and, frankly, he's about to be murdered, so it's not like they'll reprimand him for inappropriate language.

"Also," he continues, "I can give you a number to one of my colleagues who does one on one therapy sessions. That way you could..."

"No."

"...avoid groups," he finishes awkwardly. " Fair enough."

"Do you do it? The therapy? One on one, no people?"

Sam doesn't. And he'd probably lie about it, even if he did.

"Not these days. I already have a ton of work with groups. If you want to see me, specifically, you know where to find me."

Clearly.

"I do," the man confirms like it's not the creepiest thing Sam's heard in his entire life.

"Well, I have to go now," Sam tries, hoping that if he sneaks out of the bathroom fast enough this whole nightmare will finally end. If the guy's here to kill him, he's doing a pretty bad job right now, so maybe Sam could just... walk away from the situation. Surely, he won't get stabbed in the back in the middle of a bar? Right?

The guy's face contorts in a painful way and he finally removes his hand from under the jacket. Sam tenses, but the gloved palm is empty. At the same time, the guy sways a little on his feet and grabs the wet counter with both hands.

Before Sam has time to process what's happening, he's already next to the guy, holding his elbow carefully and looking straight into his eyes. The pupils are dilated and then suddenly small like a poppy seed, changing in a matter of milliseconds. Sam's never seen anything like it.

"Are you alright?" he asks unnecessarily, trying to keep the man from falling face-first into the sink.

They look at each other and the man seems panicked, more than anything. The unwashed strands of brown hair hang over his eyes, but this time Sam's too worried about him to let himself spiral again at the now familiar sight.

The counter makes a strained noise and a small crack appears on the surface. Sam imagines his own bones turning into dust under such grip and his wrist pulses with pain he felt in the background for the last few days.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, sounding more urgent this time. He doesn't even care at this point if the man's here to kill him. Sam's a paramedic first, and if someone's fighting for their life nearby, he'll always drop everything to make things better. Even if his body might end up in trashcan behind the bar for the effort.

The man blinks, licks his lips, and takes a ragged breath. There's a weird grey cast to his face now and he didn't even look that healthy to begin with.

"I have to go," he whispers finally and stands up. His forehead shines with sweat and his pupils are wide again. "Thank you," he adds quieter and walks away unnaturally fast.

He's there. And then he's not. The door closes so quietly behind him, that Sam doesn't even register the sound.

Sam sits down, not caring about the wet and disgusting floor and stares at the opposite wall in silence. In the women's bathroom someone laughs out loud and a sharp sound of the shattering glass reaches him from the bar.

It almost feels like he's lost his hearing for a while and it suddenly returns to him. As if he's been under water and came break to the surface once more.

He also tastes blood on his tongue and realizes he must have bitten it at some point without realizing. The unpleasant sting of a cut is what finally helps him to come back to himself. He cannot stay in this place a second longer.

He washes his hands again so they stop feeling as clammy and touches his face with them too. The cold water helps a lot, but his own eyes look wild in the mirror.

As he exits the bathrooms, he looks over the crowd that gathered inside since he fled the bar. Just as before, most people don't even look in his direction and he realizes that the man in a suit who stared at him earlier is gone as well.

Then, he turns around to close the door and suddenly he's faced with a bright yellow sign that warns: "Under Maintenance" in bold, black letters. An official looking printout below adds: "DO NOT ENTER".

None of those signs have been there before.

All Sam can do at this point is grip his bag, lower his head, and exit the bar as fast as possible. If he is getting strangled or stabbed today, he at least wants for it to happen in his home.

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Shoutout to tumblr for glitching a making me feel like I've lost over 700 words of a draft <3 That mini heart-attack was very necessary.

Btw, funny thing about this chapter is that I've basically spent the entire time thinking that I'm doing too much. Like... I keep pushing Sam deeper and deeper into this spiral, but nothing really happened to him. It's not a big deal, calm down, man.

But then I have to remind myself that if some suspicious looking man knocked on my door, told me that he got my address from a person I don't know, asked me where I worked, and grabbed my arm so hard it nearly broke... I would simply perish on the spot from the stress xD Or I'd spent the rest of my life paranoid, even if nothing more happened.

So I think Sam should be allowed to have a 4-day almost panic attack, as a treat.

[fablesrose]

S2 Ch 4 - The Beantown Bailout Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The team is reunited in Boston and help a father-daughter pair with the mob.

Words: 5498

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I woke up a little earlier than I normally do, got dressed and walked across the hall. I entered with my spare key and started making breakfast and coffee. 

After the whole deal with Blackpoole, Nate was looking for a fresh start, and he decided that that would look like living close to me in Boston. He stayed with me for a few weeks while he got his stuff in order, and then the condo across the hall opened up. He decided to stay close. I didn’t mind, it meant I could keep an eye on him, make sure he was doing okay, especially since he stopped drinking, almost cold turkey. 

I heard him walk down the stairs, “what are you doing here?

I looked up to see him in a well pressed suit, “well, it’s your first day at this new job isn’t it?”

I finished up the breakfast I was making right as the coffee maker indicated it was done. I handed them both to him at the counter before dishing myself a plate.

“Thank you, y/n.” He started to sip on his mug, “Do you have work going on today?”

“I’m vetting possible clients, but no projects, why?”

“Just curious. Uh, Sophie has a musical tonight, here in Boston. Do you wanna come with me?”

“Sure, sounds fun.” I halfway entertained the idea of everyone else being there, but the chances of that were slim. But imagining seeing Eliot again was still a bit fun. 

He left shortly after, I finished cleaning up and returned to my own apartment. It was only a few hours later when I heard the door across the hall slam closed. I quickly called Nate.

“Yeah?”

“Was that you that just slammed your door closed?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing back already? It’s not even lunch time.”

“I quit.”

“What?”

“It was just too much.”

I sighed, “Okay.”

“I also helped this girl and her dad get out of a car wreck.”

“What?!”

“I’m a bit worried about them, something seems off. I might go visit them in the hospital again sometime…”

“Okay…”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.”

The things this man gets himself into…

He knocked on my door that evening, walking in when I called him. I looked at the outfit he was wearing and looked at my own to see we were both in a nicer casual.

“Cool, let me grab my keys.”

We arrived at the theater with plenty of time to spare. As we looked around the opening foyer I heard a voice at the front desk.

“Parker. No, just one name.”

I touched Nate’s arm to point out that Parker was here. Soon as we looked around, I saw that the rest of the crew had come as well. We greeted each other before Sophie came out and said hi. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Hardison commented to Sophie.

“You know, not as well as I act, but yeah.”

Hardison and Parker made a bit of horrified eye contact that left me confused. Hardison saw this and shook his head as if to say, ‘don’t ask.’

There was an awkward moment between Nate and Sophie before Sophie insisted on us all meeting up afterwards before she dashed off.

I guess it was time for the show.

It was awful, and that’s all that needs to be said. 

We all went to McRory’s pub after the show. Sophie was distraught as Parker rad some of the reviews.

“Never before has a production of The Sound of Music made me root for the Nazis.”

I cringed a bit in sympathy.

Eliot sat down at the bar with Nate, he was surprised that he had stopped drinking, “how do you know about this place then?”

“We rent condos upstairs,” I told him.

“Condos? Plural?”

I looked at Nate, “we each needed our own space.”

Eliot only nodded. 

Sophie stopped Parker, “No there is nothing you can say to make me feel better.”

“I know what can make you feel better. We should steal something.”

Nate opposed. 

“Yes, we could do it together!” Sophie finally seemed excited. 

“I like this. Get right back up on the bike.” Eliot commented

“Bike of crime,” Parker added.

“Didn’t you earlier tell me how great your new lives were?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, well, I stole the Hope Diamond.” Parker said, “Then I put it back. Yeah, because I was bored. Didn’t care.”

“I spent three days hacking the White House email. No buzz.”

“See?” Sophie pointed.

“But we are doing some pretty hinky stuff in Pakistan. Hinky…”

“Look, I’m miserable. They’re miserable…” Sophie said to Nate before asking Eliot, “Okay, what have you been doing the last six months?”

He hesitated, “I was in Pakistan…”

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged. 

“You… You see what you did?” Hardison asked Nate, “You took the world’s best criminals, hitter, hacker, grifter, thief. You took us and you broke us.”

“No, no. I… What I did, I taught you how to help people. That’s all.” Nate argued.

“Exactly.”

“This is the problem with being the good guy! It gets under your skin.” Eliot explained. 

I just took a sip of my mild drink, watching this all happen.

“Look Nate,” Sophie said, “you have to have some poor little lost soul somewhere who needs a little extra legal aid.”

“Look, we agreed that we would just move on.”

“Yeah, but… we’re thieves!”

“Not me! Look, it was great. It was fun, it was wonderful while it lasted, but, you know, I was drunk for most of the time to be honest with you-”

“But you were good,” Eliot interrupted.

“You were the best.”

“We were the best.”

I smiled over my glass, watching them wear Nate down. This was good for him, they were good for him. 

“Listen, I owe all of you, and I’m very proud of what we did, I really am, but… I got my life back and I intend to keep it that way.”

My smile fell. I tried to stare him down, but Nate was pointedly avoiding eye contact. 

“And I am not a thief.” He stood from the bar and walked out, “it was great to see all of ya. Good night.”

I stood as well, “I’m sorry about him, maybe stick around town for a while? It was nice to see you guys again.”

“Don’t worry about it y/n. It was good to see you too.” Eliot said before everyone else said their goodbyes. 

I caught up to Nate on the stairs.

“‘I got my life back?’ Nate, you don’t know what to do with yourself anymore!”

“Y/n, I’m going straight. I’m gonna get a job, a normal job! I’ll figure it out.”

“You better, because these guys saved you better than I ever could. Don’t throw them away.”

He looked at me, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

He waved me off as I stepped into my apartment. I contemplated working a bit more, but decided against it and went straight up to my room and crashed. 

The next day I felt bad for what I said. I looked at the clock and figured he would probably be up by now, even if he quit his job. I walked across the hall, but could hear lots of things happening inside Nate’s apartment. 

I knocked on the door and gently pushed it open, sticking my head in. “Nate?”

“Get out of there!” 

“What?” I saw Nate was on the couch and he was looking towards the kitchen. I stepped in further to see that the whole crew was there in Nate’s apartment.

Nate looked over to me and waved me in further into the apartment as if to say, ‘fine, come on in.’

“What are you guys doing here? Get all this stuff out of here, you’re planning something I know it. Come on, get out of my house, out!” Nate got off the couch and started trying to shew the team away.

“Someone tried to kill you last night.”

“What?!” 

Everyone snapped their heads over to me with a slightly guilty expression. 

“I’m fine.”

Eliot turned back to Nate, “What do you want us to do man? You want us to just blow town, let you figure it out?”

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Nate.” I gave him a pointed look, “what did we talk about last night? If someone tried to kill you then we’re gonna need some help.”

“We’re nothing y/n, you’re not getting involved with this.”

“Bullcrap, I’m a grown ass woman, and you obviously are acting like a child!”

Sophie interjected, not letting that go too far, “We found the phone number of the hospital in your pocket, Nate. We know what you did. We know you saved that guy’s life and the little girl, and we’re all really proud of you!”

I sat next to Eliot at the table, Parker on my other side, dressed like a nun, as he applauded Nate. 

“Look, nobody else is gonna help that guy and his little girl, okay?” Hardison said seriously, “that’s what we do, we help people.”

Nate just continued to make coffee. 

“By the way, I compared Sophie’s description of your attacker to the accident footage from the security camera.” He typed away at his laptop, “Do you realize that on average, people are caught on security cameras thirteen times a day?”

“That’s crazy,” I commented and Hardison nodded at me. 

“It is crazy, but we can track him…” He trailed off, “I lost him in this.”

I peaked over the table to see the man on camera take papers out of the briefcase he stole from the man in the crash and dash off. 

“Yeah, well, I found this empty briefcase belonging to Matt Kerrigan at that intersection” Eliot told Nate who was becoming more interested. 

“It’s, uh, Boston Commonwealth Bank right?”

“No,” Nate corrected, “First Independent Boston. That’s where Kerrigan works, come on.”

I smiled, Hardison seeming to have the same thought as me. 

“Who’s this guy?” Eliot pointed at the laptop, and I followed where he was pointing. 

“You don’t know, do you? It’s Kerrigan’s boss, that guy, Leary.” Nate brushed off the stares he got from the crew. 

“Well, who’s the other guy?”

“It’s not clear enough for facial recognition.”

“Well the problem is, those two cats went down to the safety deposit boxes.”

Parker stood, “which is the only room in every bank with absolutely no cameras.”

“Which means we up, baby,” Hardison stood and finished his priest outfit to fit with Parker’s nun. “They tried to kill Kerrigan for what was in the briefcase… We’re gonna steal it back.” He continued as the two of them left.

Eliot laughed, “She’s dressed that way because she’s doin’ a con…”

“What, you thought she was dressed like a nun for no reason?” Nate asked.

“It’s Parker,” Eliot pointed out.

“I didn’t question it either Nate,” I raised my hand. Eliot pointed at me appreciatively.

“Well, fair enough,” Nate conceded. “Okay, I want you out of my house, out.” Naate continued after a moment. He explained that he was going to get cleaned up and he wasn’t involved with any of it. He wanted everything out of his house.

After he went up stairs I turned to Sophie and Eliot who were still there, “you guys can stay, if you need to hide from him pop over to my place across the hall.” I stood from the table and walked towards the door, “keep me in the loop please, I wanna know what's going on!”

“We will, y/n, thank you!” Sophie called. 

I heard Eliot mention something about all of Nate’s sports channels before I closed the door behind me. 

It was a few hours later when Sophie called me back over to Nate’s place. I saw that they had really set up shop in his living room, practically begging for his participation. They gave me a quick recap of what happened, Parker and Hardison going to the bank and retrieving the files Kerrigan had, and then Eliot going to the mob’s fake businesses running into some mob people in the process.

Eliot unpacked a duffel, “This is all the stuff I found in the warehouse, in the boxes.”

Clothing and calendars clearly from the ‘80s were tossed around. I laughed as Parker put on a jacket with the largest shoulder pads I had ever seen.

“This stuff hasn’t left the warehouse since the 1980s” Sophie commented. 

“I feel like a robot,” Parker swung her arms around while in the jacket.

“Wait, so if these are supposed to be just fake businesses, how come their financials are so squeaky clean?” Sophie asked. 

I tilted my head and was about to speak when Nate beat me to it. 

“Because they’re fake businesses.” He paused and tried to justify himself a bit before he continued when no one else commented, “Sophie, how do you catch mob guys?”

“Uh, two glasses of Chianti and a story about my grandma in Sicily.”

“How does the government catch mob guys?” He amended.

“Taxes,” multiple people answered.

“Eh, that’s how they got Capone,” Hardison commented.

“That’s how they get everybody,” Sophie added, “they never get you for the crime, they always get you for the taxes. It’s not really fair.”

“So thirty years ago the O’Hares got very smart,” Nate started with his explanation. “You see, they set up all these shell companies: fake sales, fake receipts. They launder all their money through them.”

“And everybody in the family gets a salary,” Hardison realizes. “Yeah, they pay withholding, payroll taxes, pension. It’s all old school.”

“That’s why the businesses are clean,” Eliot adds, “They’re dirty from the inside.”

I found it fascinating how they bounced off each other so easily, it almost seemed like it was rehearsed. Like perhaps they were egging Nate on. 

“Well, yeah, if you have a body in the trunk of your car, you’re gonna drive under the speed limit, aren’t you?” Nate explained. 

“You know, when you’re sober your metaphors get creepier,” Parker tells him.

“I mean, he’s not wrong though.” Everyone turned towards me and I shrugged. 

“But, wait wait,” Hardison interjects, “that still doesn’t explain the last six months of running up bad loans.”

“All from a bank that’s about to close” Sophie mentions. 

“Close?” Nate asked. “No, not close. Get bailed out.” Nate stood from where he was perched on his desk and approached us, “Look, we got a banker in the pocket of the mob. Mob takes out bad loans, cleans out the bank, knowing, three days from now, the government’s gonna come along and then, you know, bail the bank out.”

Eliot sat next to me on the couch as Nate stepped to the front of the group as he explained their operation. I smiled at him and how his knee brushed against mine before turning back to Nate.

“I mean, it’s perfect. You know, I don’t even think it’s illegal. It’s…” He paused, looking out the window before turning back to us, “I mean, if we were gonna do this… this job…”

“Just this one job,” Sophie said.

“Yes, just this one… I mean the con you’d wanna do…”

“Hypothetically,” Hardison added.

“Hypothetically, you know, is the turnabout, of course.”

“Ohh, that is a good one!” Sophie cheers.

I looked back and forth from her to Nate. I have never felt so lost.

“You know, it takes five people to do the turnabout,” Eliot mentions.

“That’s true, there's just four of us,” Sophie said.

“And a half,” Eliot glances at me with a shrug, “just saying.”

I smirked as Nate glared at the two of us.

“One more person, hmm,” Parker eggs a bit.

“Yeah, we gotta scare the banker into turning against the mob,” Nate said contemplatively. “Alright. Alright, we’ll do this job, just this one.”

The rest humbly agreed with him, acting as if it were a surprise.

“Hardison, you and Parker, you’re gonna be on the badge,” Nate directed. “Eliot, sheepdog. Sophie-”

“Ice queen!” She completed.

“And I’m the bag man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go call a professional killer who tried to murder me and arrange to meet him in an isolated location.”

I slowly raised my hand.

“You are going to stay here. You’ll be lucky if you get to participate in this one.”

I sighed, “Fair… I guess. Can you tell me what a turnabout con is?”

“All in due time.” He walked off, presumably to make his phone call. 

“See that? He did miss us!” Sophie awed.

“More than he’d like to admit, that’s for sure,” I looked at all of them before adding, “but I didn’t tell you that.”

They all smiled and nodded, Hardison making a zipped lips motion.

Everyone got ready for their respective roles, and while I wasn’t involved, they let me out of the apartment to observe, and maybe help a little. I came along with Hardison, Parker, and Eliot. I waited around the corner until Eliot finished his intimidating stare passing by Leary. When he came around the corner, he handed me a few of the mini explosive charges to help place them on the wall of the bank. 

“Hey, this detonator, if I’m around the corner, is it still gonna be in range?” Eliot asked Hardison while we walked away.

“Should be. I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet… Sometimes the things just go off,” Hardison answered.

I blanched a bit, “What?”

Eliot stopped him, “Wait, hey. I thought you said this thing was safe.”

“Mostly. Mostly safe. I was very specific. Sometimes the frequencies get messed up.”

“What frequencies, man? Huh? I got these things in my pants,” Eliot scrambled, reaching into his pockets.

“Like, uh, you know, a garage door opener, a car alarm.”

Just then a woman came out of the bank and accidentally set off her car alarm near us. Eliot and I flinched and I became very aware of the few left over explosives in my hand.

I quickly shoved them into Hardison’s hands, “take them.”

Eliot was still digging them out of his pockets when Parker asked Hardison, “what are the odds that Eliot’s crotch will actually explode?”

“Dammit Hardison,” Eliot exclaimed as he walked off.

I cringed in sympathy while Hardison laughed. He called Sophie to get an update. Everything seemed to be going to plan with Nate and Sophie having an in with the mob and we went to meet them back at Nate’s apartment with the exception of Eliot who would stick around for Leary. He would set off the explosives acting like gunshots once he came out of the bank.

Once Nate came back and it was determined he was no worse for wear, he decided he was going to go visit the Kerrigans.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, while I knew he was much better with hospitals now, it didn’t hurt to have someone with him. 

He contemplated for a second before nodding. 

Once we arrived at the father’s hospital room, we approached the daughter sitting next to him. Nate said hi first and then introduced me to her. I sat next to her with Nate standing on the other side of the bed. 

She was fiddling with a necklace she had on, but stopped when she noticed I had noticed, “Nervous habit.”

I nodded, “what is that?”

She picked it up again to look at it, “St. Brigid. My mother’s name. Dad got it for me after she died.”

“So how are you doing?” Nate asked her after a moment. 

Her face twisted in disappointment, “They say the accident is his fault.”

“No,” Nate quickly replied, “No, now listen, your dad, he found some papers at work, and he was trying to figure out what they meant, and he got a little too close to something…”

“No, but it’s not his fault. It was my fault," she insisted.

I placed my hand on her shoulder, “No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

“He said something was bothering him at work. I told him to call the police, and now… now they…” she trailed off before speaking again. “There are wolves in the world. That’s what dad says, ‘be careful, Zoe. There are wolves in the world.’”

Nate nodded and circled the bed to crouch next to her, “He was not wrong.”

She grasped her father’s hand, “so the world’s just like this, huh? Bad people do bad things, and they always get away with it. Nobody stops them.”

I looked at Nate who had the same grim look on his face as I did. We stayed for a little bit longer, but it soon came time to get back.

The plan was coming to its final act. Hardison passed out new earbuds while explaining that they were more comfortable and even better than before. I put one in and realized that they were more comfortable than I remembered them. 

“Okay, if this works, our friend Mr. Leary, he goes to the State Police, he runs, he spills his guts. Eliot, make sure he gets there.”

“I’m on it.”

“Wait, Eliot,” Nate called him, looking at me. 

He turned back.

“Take y/n with you. Keep her safe, please. She should be good with surveillance.”

I smiled before following Eliot.

Nate grabbed my arm when I passed, “Be careful.”

“I will.”

We didn’t talk much when watching for Leary. We quickly followed when he got in his car and drove off. Everything seemed to be going great at first. Nate was talking to the O’Hares when Leary started making a few wrong turns if he were going to the police. 

“Eliot, where is he going?”

He grunted, “I don’t know yet.”

Soon he pulled into the harbor and we quickly swung around to the other side before following on foot. 

“Eliot, y/n, is Leary with the cops? We don’t have a lot of room for error,” Nate asked through the comms. 

“Uh, slight problem Nate,” I responded.

“Leary drove down to the waterfront, dumped his car. He’s headin’ right for you.” Eliot tucked me behind him when Leary walked past.

“He was supposed to go to the cops.”

“Well then I don’t know what he’s doing,” Eliot responded to Nate before turning to me. “I’m gonna follow him, you go back to the car, I don’t know what’s going on. Stay safe and out of sight from the mob guys.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t say anything. I quickly closed it and nodded before turning back towards the car we came in. As much as I wanted to help, I was in way over my head here. On the way to the car, there was a group of mob guys approaching. I quickly ducked behind some junk and debris and held my breath as they passed by my hiding spot. I peeked around to see that there was one who stuck around the area of my escape route. Luckily he was far enough away to not notice me, but if I moved too much, or tried to run, that wasn’t guaranteed. 

I whispered, hoping Hardison was right that the comm would pick it up, “Eliot, be careful, there's mob guys coming your way.”

“Okay, guys, it’s not O’Hare,” I heard Nate through my comm. 

“What?” Sophie asked.

“Uh, no. O’Hare is not the boss is what I’m saying.” 

“No. This whole con was built around O’Hare.” 

“Ooh, they’re probably gonna shoot Nate in the face,” Parker said.

“Uh, Parker, I can hear you.”

I bit my lip, trying not to make a sound. I kept peeking around to see that the mob guy was still there, just smoking a cigarette leisurely.  

Parker apologized as Sophie emphasized our predicament. 

“Alright, listen, we’re gonna have to make this one up as we go.”

I listened as Nate talked to O’Hare and Leary, trying to smooth over some wrinkles. I peeked out again to see the guy had finished his cigarette and walked off in the same direction as the previous group. I waited for him to pass and get far enough away before dashing off to the car. Luckily there was nobody else in the way of me getting further from the warehouse. I slipped in the car with a sigh of relief and locked myself in. I eagerly listened to my comm to find out what was going on.

There was some grunting and rustling that seemed to come from Eliot, “Alright, alright!”

“Eliot?” I asked, “Are you okay?”

I only heard an intentional hum in reply before Eliot whispered to someone, “You better know what you’re doing.”

There was a beat before Nate called, “Hey, hey, he’s got a state trooper badge!”

I could hear other people talking, but not what they were saying before Eliot whispered a “woah.”

Then I heard more clearly from O’Hare, “you kill him. I fixed Kerrigan’s breaks, I’m not killing a cop!”

“Look, you screwed up Kerrigan!” Leary replied. 

“No, uh, he’s right. You’re right. He’s-” Nate stuttered along before he was cut off by what sounded like gunshots.

I yelled, “Nate? Eliot? Guys, what’s going on?!”

Hardison responded in my ear, “it’s all good, just stay put, we got this.”

Sophie started speaking in character, “has he got a wire? Come on Ford, get with it! Check him for a wire!”

I sighed in relief, they’ve got this.

“Yes, right on it,” Nate responded.

“This isn’t how we do it in Boston,” I heard O’Hare say.

“Really? This is exactly how we do it in London, except we usually use a razor blade.”

I shivered at the connotation, Sophie could be scary while in character.

“No wire… He has his cellphone though!” Nate called. 

“Hit redial, see who he called,” Sophie said to Leary once he said there was no speed dial number saved. “Leary, right? Annie Kroy,” Sophie introduced herself, “nice little number with the banks there. It’s a shame the rest of your operation’s a bit of a balls-up.”

I heard someone’s phone ringing before Leary asked, “O’Hare? Why was a cop’s last phone call to you?”

I was confused too, I thought back and Eliot never called O’Hare. I realized though, that Nate was supposed to call O’Hare after Eliot and I left. Nate must have given them his phone instead!

“This is… This is a setup,” O’Hare tried to explain. 

“How is this a setup?” Leary asked. “She shot the cop.”

“Yeah, and he’s the one that dialed the phone,” Sophie added. 

“You didn’t want us to shoot him either, did you?” Leary accused, “Why, did you know him?”

“It wasn’t like that! Come on, you know I was in this thing from the beginning.” 

I smiled hearing them bicker and turn on each other. This team sure does know how to create chaos.

“Why… why would I be involved?”

Leary called for his people to follow him, so I assumed O’Hare ran away. 

Eliot stashed the car in a spot where I could see Hardison and Parker peel around the corner towards the warehouse where it sounded like they picked up O’Hare. I listened as they got O’Hare to admit to the bank fraud, Leary’s part in it, as well as the Kerrigan hit.

“Yes!” I cheered, “Hardison, did you record that?”

I heard it played back in my ear as a confirmation.

“Those were the state cops who questioned me!” Leary was back in the warehouse, supposedly with Sophie and Nate.

“Well, do they got any evidence?” Sophie asked.

“No, no, nothing real, just O’Hare’s word against mine.”

“And no documents?”

“No. No, no, I have those. But Kerrigan saw them.”

“And there’s just one problem,” Nate said, “we’re screwed if he wakes up.”

“He won’t,” Leary replied, “Kerrigan’s the last loose end. I’ll take care of him myself.”

“Hey, hey! Whoa, whoa, wait. What about him?”

“Him? Hey, I never touched him. Your fingerprints are all over him. I’ll clean up my mess, you clean up yours.”

I scoffed at how much of a scummy guy Leary was, “Did he really just say that?”

“Afraid so, y/n,” Nate replied. “So, how’d you do it?”

I heard a grunt from Eliot, “Detonator… Ketchup.”

“Ah, the classics.”

“Is that what those gunshots were?” I asked.

“Yes, dear, Eliot had a lovely death scene,” Sophie answered excitedly.

Eliot met me back at the car, sliding into the driver's seat.

“Are you okay?” I asked one more time.

He smiled at me, “Yeah, I might be a little sore, but fine.” He looked down at his chest, “need a new shirt though.” 

I looked at his shirt, and sure enough, he had holes and ketchup everywhere causing me to laugh.

“Were you okay?” He asked me as he put the car in drive.

“Yeah, just had to play hide and seek with some mob guys before getting here, but all good. I was entertained listening to the whole affair from here.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk as we drove back to the apartment. 

It was a few days later when Kerrigan was well enough to come into the pub where Nate handed over a check. It was from the IRS for Kerrigan finding the tax fraud. He thanked us and started to walk away, but Zoe stayed for a moment. 

She hugged me and then Nate, thanking us as well. “There are wolves in the world,” she said while looking at all of us, “but sometimes they’re the good guys, I guess.” She took Nate’s hand and placed what I saw was her necklace in it.

Nate admired it after she walked away.

“Still your last job?” Sophie asked him.

“Well, uh, maybe, um” Nate stumbled over his words, “I mean, you know, until I find a job I like enough, you know, to stay out of the bars.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Hardison said.

“And then I’m out, I’m done.”

The others agreed half heartedly, as if they didn’t believe him. For the record, I didn’t either. Eliot, Parker, and Hardison left, and I followed shortly after, leaving Nate and Sophie alone. It was a crazy life they all led, and I couldn’t help but think I couldn’t wait until the next time.

I climbed the stairs and glanced at Nate’s door to see it slightly ajar. Curious, I pushed it open and peaked in. Inside I saw Hardison start to set up some TVs.

“Hello?”

He looked up at me, “Oh, hey! You wanna come help me level this?”

I approached cautiously, but helped nevertheless, “What are these for?”

“These are awesome for briefings and watching cameras, sports too.”

“Where’s Parker and Eliot?”

“She’s grabbing some stuff, Eliot’s working next door.”

“Next door-”

The door opened and shut and I looked over to see Nate walk in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing there?” He said once he saw us. 

“I’m runnin’ this CAT-5 cable to the-”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. You don’t understand. I don’t want to have these monitors in my apartment,” he explained before turning to me, “and why are you helping him?”

I shrugged, “I just didn’t ask questions.”

“Coming through!” Parker came in holding a large painting.

Nate backtracked towards her, “No! Parker, no! Not that painting! I don’t ever want to see that painting.”

Parker stopped and waved it in front of her as she spoke in a funny voice, “Hi, I’m old Nate and I live here too!”

“You can’t just break in here and start hanging stuff…”

Hardison stopped him, “For repairs and renovations, your landlord has full access to your dwellings. It’s in the lease.”

That made me pause, “What?”

“What are you doing reading my lease?”

“I bought the building!”

“You bought the…”

“You’re our landlord?” I hesitantly fist bumped Hardison when he offered it. 

I flinched when a chainsaw noise started and followed Nate when he found where the noise was coming from. The chainsaw was coming from the other side of the wall through to Nate’s apartment.

Nate repeated no when he saw what was happening, but it was futile. Eliot walked in after cutting out a makeshift door covered in sawdust. He looked very proud of himself, but with the cloud of dust that came out, I couldn’t react other than sneeze.

Nate coughed before turning to me, “why didn’t they do this to your apartment? You’re the one who wanted them around.”

“Whoa,” Eliot said.

“We’re not gonna crash a lady’s apartment,” Hardison finished as if it were a no-brainer.

I huffed out a laugh and a shrug, not fighting it when Hardison and Parker wrapped their arms around Nate and I’s shoulders. What a day.

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom @kniselle

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for selling my ex-friend's stuff? (TW: Brief mention of sexual assault)

[⛅ for recognizability]

I (NB, 20) had a friend who we will call M (F, 25) two years ago. She moved to my country, mostly for personal reasons and to be close to her at-the-time gf, and I lived in a small town a couple of hours away via public transport.

M has BPD, and after she and her girlfriend broke up after just a few months together IRL, started spiraling into a psychotic episode. I don't really blame her, and I was a bad friend during that period too (I have severe anger management issues), but I bacame sort of D's maid?

She would call me at any time of the day demanding my presence even though I had a hard time leaving my place, due to severe anxiety and the fact that is kind of isolated, and transportation is not available at all times of day.

I would be the main person cleaning her house, despite not living in it. One time I didn't show up for two weeks bc I was dealing with my grandmother's cancer, and then, I had to eradicate a fungal infection from her sink.

She moved a lot of times bc she was living off AirBnBs, and I had to package all her stuff. Sometimes she left me alone in the process.

I would have to order take out for her, becouse she refused to cook and also didn't want to do the necessary process for being able to order it herself.

We had about six months of that, before M tried something with me that was trigger (and she was aware it was, we had talked about this) even after I said no multiple times. I tried to work out my friendship with M afterwards, and continued to help them through their situation, but two months afterwards she moved back to her country of origin, being mostly alone here.

Now, I have about 7 square meters of space in my current living situation, and M left me a lot of her stuff + an exotic pet "to return to her if she ever came back". It physically could not fit in my room.

A few weeks after she left I asked if she wanted it shipped, and she said I could throw it away for all she cared about. Taking it as a sing she didn't want it anymore, I got in contact with her ex and returned her items, rehomed her pet to a loving family (the current owner is a vet who specializes on her spices, and I did a tourough fallow up), and sold the rest of Ms stuff that I had no use for, outside of some objects I knew had sentimental value to her.

Two years later, she is asking for all of it back. I told her I don't have all of it anymore, but would be happy to mail her what I still have out of my own pocket. She got mad and called me all sorts of awful shit, what should I do?

What are these acronyms?

[followthebluebell]

what would be some signs that a cat is semi feral vs feral?

vibes, mostly.

Feral cats don't like people. These are cats who received either ZERO or EXTREMELY LIMITED socializing during their primary socialization period (6-12 weeks).

They don't NEED us as far as they're concerned. They'll mostly avoid people, unless they're cornered. They will scream and do their best to kill you, unless they're severely shut down due to sheer terror. Feral cats are nasty bastards. You cannot pet a feral. You cannot pick up this kind of feral. They WILL fuck you up. I can't stress this enough. Remember that, after horses, cats are the animal that sends vets to the emergency room the most.

Semi-ferals are the ones that can be pet. You might even be able to pick one up for brief periods. They'll often be bonded very closely to just one or two people and want everyone else to die in a fire. You MIGHT be able to get them in a crate or medicate them, especially if you've got some extra hands. They're still not easy to deal with, but they generally don't actively try to kill you for existing.

Semi-ferals received SOME socialization during their primary socialization period, but it either wasn't very extensive or large swathes of it were missed.

There's also just plain ol' genetics at work, but it's trickier to nail that stuff down.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Title: Home is Where...

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-con

Tags: Yandere!Shigaraki, non-consensual somnophilia, sex toys, anal fingering, handjobs, semi-public sex, crossdressing, forced feminization, domestic submission, abusive relationships, anal sex, dacryphilia, League as family. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Summary: A commission for @psi-neko , who wanted to see Yandere!Shigaraki, domestic submission, somnophilia, and more family moments with the League! 

The League has moved into a new safe house and Dabi is on lockdown after garnering too much attention from the police and heroes. He finds himself slowly but surely taking on more of the household chores, and that Shigaraki seems to be watching him at every moment. That's nothing to be worried about though, right? After all, the smell of rain that he keeps waking up to must just be his imagination, he always locks his door at night after all. 

Dabi is not entirely sure how they went from living on the streets to Shigaraki calling them all back to a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. He really has no fucking clue how the boss somehow got a three-story house with four bedrooms and a finished basement, fully furnished with the utilities on. No idea if this was a safe house or something that AFO had before that he somehow managed to figure out was still safe prior to Kurogiri getting arrested or what, but he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth too much. Really, really not going to complain when, despite arriving last, he ends up with one of the bedrooms upstairs with Duster, Compress and Toga in the rooms on the second floor, and Twice and Spinner taking the basement. 

They all get settled in, making sure that the blinds are shut tight in every room. If they can just do their best to not draw any attention from the neighbors then they should be able to stay here a while. But once they've gotten the lay of the land they all end up back downstairs in the living room for a debriefing, first one they've all been around for at the same time since just after dealing with Overhaul. And everything is fine, he would dare say normal even. He's been out recruiting, Toga and Compress have been doing spy shit, Spinner and Twice have been trying to find anyone that might be able to reproduce the quirk erasing bullets for them. All the stuff they're supposed to be doing--

"For the next few weeks, you four can also start looking for recruits again, but anyone even remotely interested has to be vetted by myself or Dabi prior to any meet-ups, understood?" Shigaraki doesn't even glance in Twice's direction as he says it, but they all feel that slight sting. Yeah well, none of them are mad at Jin about that-- he didn't know how much of a psycho Overhaul was gonna be. But Magne is still gone, Compress is still permanently disabled. It still was something that hurt them and they're making do in the aftermath. Whatever. "Dabi, you'll be at base until further notice. You can help me coordinate and decrypt the files my teacher left behind." 

He blinks. "What? No, I'm in charge of recruitment, Giran said he had something interesting in Fukuoka--" 

Shigaraki levels him with flat red eyes, "No. You've drawn far too much attention to yourself in the past few weeks. You're the most recognizable of us and your quirk is the most obvious and easy to trace. You're on house arrest until things cool off." 

He is really about to start bitching in earnest, but then he notices that Shigaraki isn't even clawing at his neck anymore. Which means he is dead set on this and just as ready for this to be a physical fight as Dabi was gearing up for a verbal one. He grits his teeth and bites out, "Fine." Which is a lot less of a fight than he would have put up at the beginning. At least they have a whole house to hole up in. Better than the shitty bar or the shack they were using a few weeks ago. 

The others seem to let out the collective breath that they were holding and Compress speaks up next. "I can check on things in Fukuoka, if you'd like." Dabi waves him off. They can do whatever the fuck they want. He doubts it was anything that interesting anyway. 

They finish up the meeting and when that's done, there's a pause. Been a long time since they had somewhere safe and comfortable to stay. Takes all of ten minutes before they all start to break off to do their own things. Thinks Toga is going to take a bath, Compress heads towards the kitchen to make sure that the rest of them actually eat, Spinner and Duster start in on some game from the ancient console gathering dust under the TV with Twice cheering them on, and he makes his way up to his room. As annoying as being locked down is, he has been doing the most running around for the past few months, has barely had a place to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. Can't exactly say that he's going to resent the opportunity to pass out for a solid eight hours in an actual bed. 

The others, very wisely, don't bother him once he shuts himself away for the night. 

///

Dabi learns three things very, very quickly once he is on house arrest. The first is that he is bored all of the time. He always bitched at the others for being sat around doing nothing when he popped back into base with updates, but he gets it now. There just isn't that much to do. He and Shigaraki work on trying to coordinate and run down leads based on what they still have from AFO, but that's a lot of putting out lines and waiting for a bite. They can't train with their quirks without drawing attention, and they can't leave the house. Thank god they have power and internet here at least because he's pretty sure he would be pulling out staples just for something to do otherwise. 

The second thing that becomes increasingly obvious is that the rest of his cohorts have never lived in a house like this, or if they did, they were never responsible for its upkeep. Spinner and Twice are so bluntly and obviously reclusive bachelors and they are always leaving dishes in the sink and laundry in the dryer. Pretty sure neither of them have ever touched a fucking vacuum in their lives either. Toga knows how to do chores and usually doesn't make too much of a mess, has gotten glimpses of her room and it's cluttered with as many cute things as she can get her hands on to make her space feel warm and homey, but generally clean. Compress, unsurprisingly, seems to know how to keep things in order, but he's not around as much since he has been traveling the most. Shigaraki, from what he can tell, also knows how to clean up after himself, but he definitely wasn't doing the majority of housework with Kurogiri or AFO. And Dabi is trying very, very hard not to care, or think about any of that. He lasts all of nine days. Gets up one morning and finds the sink piled high with dishes and mud tracked in from the back door and unfortunately cannot contain himself any longer. 

By the time the others are making their way downstairs he's vacuumed and scrubbed the floors, dusted everything from the baseboards to the ceiling fans, wiped down the counters and furniture with cleaner, cleaned the bathrooms, washed and put away the dishes, made breakfast, and written out a grocery list to plan for the rest of the week. There's definitely a confused, sleepy air hanging around the others as they come into the kitchen, an island at the center and dining area tucked off to the side before leading into the backyard, and find food laid out and waiting. 

"You... cooked?" And Spinner sounds genuinely baffled. 

"Yeah well, none of you fucking can." He snaps, Compress excluded, but he's not in a particularly charitable mood at the moment. 

"You cleaned too." And Shigaraki's tone is more considering. 

He sneers at them all. "Clearly none of you are capable of that either. If you make a mess on purpose I'll fucking incinerate you." Turns back to the sink to finish rinsing the cooking dishes and get those loaded into the dishwasher. "Food's getting cold." 

Really not expecting Toga to press along his back, catching him in a tight, warm hug that does something unforgivable to his chest, as she murmurs, "Thanks, Dabi." 

Genuinely glad he always sounds gruff with them when he mutters back, "Whatever, leech." 

So he takes over the household stuff, and that only alleviates his boredom about thirty percent of the time. Unfortunately, that does lead him to his third observation: Shigaraki seems to be always watching him. 

That's something he becomes aware of by inches. At first, he just noticed that he started seeing Shig at least once a day, then a little more often. He chalked that up to the fact that he started cooking most meals now that they weren't living off of convenience store food and cup noodles, but no. Whenever he was in one of the other rooms, Duster would wander in and find a reason to stay. Usually didn't make small talk with him, which he was perfectly happy to avoid, but he didn't know why the other man would keep getting into his space. Definitely didn't like how Shigaraki always seemed to be watching him with those sharp, creepy blood red eyes whenever he glanced up from whatever he was doing. Something about the look robbed him of the attitude he would have leveled at the others for staring. 

Maybe it was because Shigaraki never did it when the others were around, which left some kind of alarm bell ringing in the back of his mind. But their creepy boss hasn't done anything yet. Doesn't know how he would even bring it up without sounding insanely paranoid on top of his usual bitchiness. So Dabi doesn't say anything. 

Probably should have. 

///

Things come to a head one night after dinner. The others are still all out, might not come back for a day or two depending on any difficulties they might find traveling. He and Shig eat, they don't talk much, not usually in an uncomfortable way. More in a  not really knowing what to even talk about when it's just them that's not work, and they've already dealt with that today. So instead things are quiet as they eat. When they're finished, Dabi starts to clean up. The annoyance about doing the housework had worn off stunningly quickly in the wake of not having much to do. At least he can be useful while trapped in the house. And the cleaning, cooking, just... putting things in order, it taps into something in his head. Calms him down. Can't control how fast he's going to get to his revenge, hasn't been in control of most of what's happened to him for the past decade, but at least in this place, he's able to exercise some control over his situation. 

He's fucking glad they have a dishwasher though, because the seams across his palms are already not thrilled with how much he's been irritating them with scrubbing floors, and tubs, and surfaces. Lets out a soft hiss of breath as the hot water hits his seam and that one has just had it with his bullshit today. A thin trickle of blood goes pink and washes away with the water. He turns off the tap and is about to reach for a towel, but he's abruptly paused when Shigaraki is right in his space. His skin heats sharply as his panic spikes when the other man catches him with four fingers around his wrist. Duster acts as if he hasn't even noticed, like this is normal, before bringing the towel to his hand and gently drying his skin. He's careful not to pull at his staples any more than Dabi already has, but it's still so strange that Dabi can't relax. 

"I didn't realize you would be such a good homemaker." Definitely hasn't ever heard Shigaraki's voice low like that and it has his skin bristling. Especially when he tries to pull his hand back and Shig holds a little tighter, raised finger dropping just enough to keep him from giving a more insistent tug as his nervousness spikes. 

"...Better soldier, if you let me stop spinning my wheels." He tries to sound mostly unfazed, but he doesn't think he pulls it off. 

"No, I like having you right here, where I can see you. Where I know you're being so well-behaved for me." His mind goes unhelpfully blank when Shigaraki lifts his hand, dips his head, so he can press a soft kiss to his aching seam. Dabi bristles slightly. Tries to pull his hand back again, and that last deadly finger lowers a little more. He stills. Lets Duster press his palm briefly to his cheek before he straightens and lets go of him. It takes more restraint than he knew he had to not snatch his hand back from the space between them, to move slowly and deliberately, leaving the rest of the dishes and stepping around the other man who has practically trapped him between the sink and island. 

"Not sure what it says that you're turned on by housework, but I'm not interested, Duster." 

Sends something very cold through his gut when Shigaraki keeps watching him with those dissecting red eyes and the barest touch of a smile curling his lips. "You will be, firefly." He really does not like how sure the other man sounds and as soon as he's far enough away that he'd be able to set off his flames faster than he thinks Shigaraki could reach for him, he turns and heads swiftly back upstairs to his room. Throwing the lock into place isn't really that much of a reassurance when the whole door could be turned to dust in a few seconds, but that would be pretty hard for Shigaraki to explain to the others. Still has a hard time falling asleep that night. 

///

Shigaraki doesn't treat him any differently while they're working, but he is always watching him while he's in the common areas of the house, especially when he's cleaning or cooking. Doesn't try anything again, but those red eyes are following him into his sleep. 

The first dream happened after he finally managed to sleep the night Shigaraki cornered him in the kitchen. Had been so simple. Cool lips against his cheek through the dark, fingers trailing along his throat, down his chest, stopping as they drifted low on his stomach. And then nothing. He woke up the next morning foggy and confused, but didn't think too hard about it. Not until the same thing happened the next night. The lips in his dream trailed a little further along his jaw, the fingers starting on his thighs and working their way up. He did his best to ignore it, but when he swore that he was starting to come out of sleep with the smell of petrichor in his nose, the smell that follows Shigaraki around, he started to question if it was just paranoia and weird dreams. Still hasn't said anything though, doesn't know how he can even bring it up without stirring the pot in a way he really doesn't want to, especially when his door is always firmly locked when he comes to each morning. 

Wakes up this morning with the memory of lips pressing softly to his own and resolves that he's going to have to do something about these weird ass dreams before he loses any more of his mind. He gets dressed, though he's given up on his villain gear, sticking with casual clothes until he's allowed out of the house again, and heads to go get started on breakfast. Not expecting to nearly trip on a small brown box as he opens his door. Dabi pauses, nudges it with his toe, half expecting it to be some kind of prank. He would absolutely not put it past Toga to try to glitter bomb him-- but the box is light and inert against his socked foot. He picks it up and retreats over to the desk to get the scissors. 

When he gets it open he finds a pair of black rubber gloves inside. It's a gift that only serves to confuse him more. Isn't sure if it's an apology for being so weird the other night, or if Duster is just that level of inept that the whole situation came off so much creepier than he'd intended. 

Either way, his seams are a lot happier with him when he wears them as he's wiping down the counters after breakfast, and Duster looks a little self-satisfied as well. He doesn't thank the other man. An additional fee for being such a creep. 

///

Dabi is starting to think that there is a plot happening in the house, and paranoid or not, it definitely seems to be conspiring against him in particular. Because this is the second time in as many days that he's walked into a room and conversation has abruptly died. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Maybe a touch nastier than he usually is with them at this point, but he does not like how they all are suddenly pretending to be busy with their own things as he comes in to get started on dinner, the kitchen open to the living room. 

"Nothing!" Toga says too loud, too quick, too bright with a big smile full of fangs. Doesn't believe her for a second and she must know it. But she continues anyway, "What's for dinner?" 

"Fucking nothing unless you spill the beans, brat." 

"Oh, that's alright, Dabi." Compress says as he pushes off the couch, already undoing his cufflinks to roll his sleeves. "You've been doing so much of the domestic chores, why don't I handle dinner tonight?" 

And he really doesn't know what to do with the way that makes his chest kind of hurt a little. "Whatever, do what you want." Feels incredibly petulant when he turns his ass right back around and heads upstairs. Fine, if they don't want him to know whatever's going on, if they want to mock him for trying to find ways to occupy his time, then they can fend for their fucking selves. He drops onto his bed and figures he'll go down and eat after the others are finished. He hears Duster pass by his room and the door shut softly half an hour later. 

He wasn't even tired when he laid down, but in a matter of minutes his eyes are so heavy he couldn't keep them open if he wanted to. 

///

Cold hands on his body, cool lips against his neck, a weight settled over him. Dabi squirms in the dark, trying to shift away. Something in him knows that the sensations are wrong, that something is going on, but his mind is so thick and foggy he can't pay attention. The dream presses in closer. It pushes up his shirt to expose his chest and there are lips and fingers there too. Teasing little licks and tugs at his piercings that are making his skin go hotter. A lot hotter when there's pressure against his crotch. When after a few teasing strokes and squeezes, a hand is slipping into his pants. Oh. Dabi lets out a thin moan, forgetting the discomfort from before as he has good friction against his cock for the first time in ages. Can't even remember the last time he jacked off. Just knows that having a cool, firm touch against his overheated skin is sending his pleasure higher. The touches are firm and sure, they move against him and he lets himself be swept along by the sensations. His skin is nearly humming, everything feeling so much more intense in the blackness of his dream. Wonders if that's why he imagines the smell of petrichor again. 

"Shigaraki?" His tongue is so heavy, the word slurred so much that he barely thinks it can even count as a word in the first place. But the hand around his cock stills for a second, but then it's moving again, firmer, faster, and the lips are back at his neck. Makes everything feel so much better with an insistence that has him moaning and squirming again, his cock dripping against the phantom palm stroking him. Is teetering on the edge of his orgasm so soon. Is sent over the edge when teeth start at his neck, licking and sucking, and then biting hard enough that he's whimpering as that little flare of pain is enough. His orgasm feels so good as it washes over him. It leaves his muscles trembling softly as he settles again. As the teeth pull themselves from his skin and lips press another kiss there instead. 

The darkness feels much heavier again and the rest of his dream is blissfully empty. 

///

"Dabi?" Toga's voice coming through the door, accompanied by a knock. Fuck, he feels like he got hit by a train. Can't remember the last time he slept so hard. He starts to shift and is abruptly more awake than he was a moment ago because the inside of his sweatpants is soiled and sticky with old cum. His face burns and he glances at the door, overwhelmingly relieved that it's locked as she tries the handle gently.

He thinks he manages to sound annoyed instead of embarrassed when he snaps, "What, leech?" 

There's a slight pause, "We made breakfast, are you going to come down?" Breakfast? He glances over at the clock and blinks. Nine a.m. It was definitely barely after seven when he came in here last night. Doesn't know how that happened. Fuck, the others probably thought he was acting like even more of a mopey teenager than he was. 

"Yeah, I'll be down in a bit, brat." Anything to get her to leave so he can be mortified about the mess he's made of himself in private. Hears her footsteps going and gets out of bed, stripping out of his sweats and trying to clean up a bit with some tissues before he has to make his way to the bathroom. He thought he was in a coma during the embarrassing wet dream years, really didn't think he was going to have to deal with them now. Must have been more pent up than he thought to have such a weird dream. 

He's not really thinking that much when his hand moves to his neck, to where he remembers teeth. It's tender to the touch and the blood drains from his face. throws on clean clothes and heads to the bathroom. The mirror offers no insights, his skin too dark to see a bruise. Dabi tries to calm down. His door was locked, he'd unlocked it himself, heard it rattle soundly in place when Toga tried. Must have just slept weird and his dreams turned the ache into a sensation that went along with the rest of the dream. He tries to shake the uneasiness from his mind as he cleans up and gets ready for the day.

By the time he's made it downstairs, he can already hear the others all lively in the kitchen, food already on the table. 

"Yo, there you are, what happened to you last night, man?" Spinner greets from in front of the fridge, taking out the pitcher of orange juice. 

"I tried to knock last night and you didn't answer," Shigaraki says dryly, not even looking up from whatever game he's tapping away at on his phone. Shigaraki? Tries to shake himself quickly before heat can head to his face. Must have heard him through the door. Must have been why he'd thought of him--

"I put on a book," taken to listening to them while he's been working around the house with his headphones on. "And it literally bored me to sleep." Not really expecting a palpable release of tension to be banished from the room, but the others all seem to perk up, except Duster who looks completely nonplussed by the whole situation. 

"So you're not mad?" 

Definitely was last night, but that feels a million miles away now. "No, is that about to change abruptly?" 

"It depends on how you feel about puns, I guess," Spinner says, which instills no confidence in him as Toga rushes over to the table and pulls a flat box off of his chair, before bringing it back to him, nearly bouncing. 

"Open it!"

"We wanted to thank you for everything you've been doing for us over the past few weeks," Compress tells him more calmly as he hesitantly takes the box. Kind of wants to crawl out of his skin as he opens it under their watchful eyes. 

The ache in his chest goes so much sharper as he pulls the bundle of blue and black fabric from the box. An apron, messily died into a black and blue gradient, puffy paint messily declaring 'If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen!' on the front. Little blobs of blue paint frame the kanji on either side that he thinks are supposed to be flames. He doesn't say anything for an agonizingly long moment, doesn't know how to speak when his lungs feel like they've collapsed in on themselves. It takes him a second to look up and he finds that they're all watching him, an earnestness across their features that he thinks is going to tear him open at the seams. 

"You're all a bunch of fucking saps." But his voice is not as even as he'd like it to be. 

Says something about how well he's let them know him that none of them comment on it, instead letting him slip into his chair at the table and starting the usual chatter as they start to eat. They still leave to go out on their jobs, he's still on house arrest, but when he goes to clean up the mess from breakfast, he does it with his gloves and apron on. 

///

Things go back to normal, for everyone else. The others were apparently sneaking around the house and whispering because they were trying to figure out how to make the gift and were worried about him overhearing, but now that the cat is out of the bag, they're all back to normal. And Dabi is still having wet dreams like a horny teenager and he's absolutely fucking mortified about it. He's been sleeping so deeply, feeling hands all over him in the dark, stroking him and bringing him off, kisses pressed along his jaw, cheeks, and neck, fingers toying with his nipples, he feels so filthy every time he wakes up with cum staining the inside of his pajamas. Never had this happen before and what's worse is that every dream is full of indistinguishable heavy darkness and the smell of rain. Which means that he's dreaming about Shigaraki every time and he really doesn't know what to do about that. Only just started getting along with him for work things a few weeks ago, didn't think that would develop into anything else, but apparently, the other man had infected him with that kiss against his seams to have his subconscious so needy for him. 

Not that he's ever going to let Duster know that. 

The dreams become such a persistent and embarrassing routine over the next week that Dabi finally gives in and tries to cut them off. Fine, he's clearly more sexually frustrated than he thought he was, okay, so he deals with that. He honestly is more interested in going out and railing or getting railed than masturbating, but since he's still on lockdown, he settles for this. Digs out a packet of lube from the bottom of his duffle and gets on his bed. Tries to think about anything besides the dreams and his creepy boss, but the four-fingered touches keep coming to the forefront of his mind as he starts to stroke himself. By the time there are thin wisps of smoke coming out of his seams and he's dripping against his palm, Dabi has his knuckles pressed to his mouth, trying to muffle any sounds. Would be absolutely mortifying if, 

"Tomura," Shigaraki heard him gasping his name through the wall as Dabi stripes his hand with his cum. Mortifying enough as is. He cleans up, pulls his pajama bottoms back on, and hits the light, hoping that he's staved off the dreams for the night. If he can just avoid waking up in soiled sweats again, then he will accept this as a win. 

///

Hands on his body, rougher than before. They pull at his pajamas, never tugged at his clothes like this before, taking them off as lips move almost frantically across his jaw. Until they seal over his own. Definitely never done that before. Fingers on his jaw as soon as he's pulled away his sweats, pulling his mouth open so a tongue can push greedily inside. Dabi lets out a muffled sound, not sure what's happening why the dream is so much more than it usually is, jolting slightly when the hands go back to his thighs and spread them wide so that a solid weight can settle between them. Dabi feels more overwhelmed, more devoured by the touches than he has in any of the dreams before, the mouth barely leaving his long enough for him to breathe, and he starts to struggle, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations. It has the hands around his thighs tightening sharply, hard enough that it pulls at the staples there and sparks pain across his skin. 

He lets out a sharper gasp as his eyes open, trying to flinch away from the pressure. Shigaraki holds him still as he presses in to kiss him again. 

Dabi lets out a thin sound of shock as reality comes crashing in on him. Not wet dreams, not a dream, Shigaraki touching him, coming into his room-- Panic, fear, disgust, all spike so sharply in him as he reaches for his quirk, as he tries to get his sleep-heavy limbs coordinated enough to push him away, to light him on fire for touching him-- and his quirk doesn't react at all. His arms feel like noodles as he gets his hands against Shigaraki's chest. Can't put any force behind the movement. Tries to bite him, and it's barely a nip. 

Shigaraki pulls away after a moment, red eyes locking with his and dark with his lust. "There you are, firefly. Was hoping you would wake up for this." 

"G...et off," hard to speak too, fuck, everything feels heavy and hazy. Been sleeping so hard lately, fuck, not sleeping. Drugged. Doesn't know how Shigaraki has been doing it, but he must have been. Dabi is far too paranoid to sleep through someone sneaking into his room. 

"Oh sweetheart, why would I do that?" Dabi is choked with panic as he feels Shigaraki wrap four ungloved fingers around his half-hard cock, stroking him like he's already figured out every way to make him hot. Has, probably, in the week he's been molesting him in his sleep. "When you wanted me so badly earlier you couldn't even wait for me to come and see you, pretty boy." 

He tries to shake his head, tries to squirm away, can barely move at all. "S-stop," 

"Been waiting so long for you to show me that you were ready for more." Terror and anguish crash in on his chest when wet fingers start to rub against his hole, making him nearly whimper. 

"Don't!" Can't get as much force behind the word as he wants, but the more he tries to focus, the easier speech becomes. If he shouts--

"Shh, don't want the others to hear you, pretty thing." Duster sinks a finger inside of him and Dabi lets out a harsh pant. Can't move enough to fight him, can't use his quirk for some reason, if he has to scream for help then fine, anything to keep from being raped by his psychotic boss. The hand around his cock shifts to his thigh, Shigaraki starts to drum his fingers against the skin over his artery, a deliberate, threatening rhythm as his mouth trails along his cheek so he can murmur in his ear. "You wouldn't want them to come knocking and find you like this, would you? Pretty cock dripping and hole stretching so eagerly around my fingers, door locked, not even struggling? Do you really think they would believe you if you said you didn't want it?" He pushes in a second finger as he's speaking, rubbing and stretching, and then crooking-- Dabi lets out an involuntary moan, his eyes squeezing shut as Shigaraki rubs against his prostate and sends unwanted pleasure spilling out across his nerves. "When your body is so clearly desperate for my cock, sweetheart? Scream if you want, precious, happy to show off the cute sounds you always make when I'm touching you." Lips pressing softly and sweetly against his cheek as Dabi whimpers, words dying in his throat. The fingers keep tapping along his thigh. Prepared to kill or maim him if he tries anyway. 

He grits his teeth and swallows away any screams or further protests as Shigaraki keeps working him open. Gets him stretched and wet, his body forced pliant from whatever the other man dosed him with. And then he's shifting, pulling his cock free from his sleep pants and Dabi can't help it, lets out a weak sob. He doesn't think he's ever felt more helpless since he was a child as Shigaraki spreads lube over himself before resettling between his legs and pushing his thick head against his hole. Duster presses more soft kisses against his cheeks, under his eyes as the first drops of blood slip over his cheeks, shushing him gently. 

He cries harder as Shigaraki presses inside of his body. Wanted to be full like this a few hours ago, and his body keeps betraying him by feeling so good as he's stretched so full of Duster's cock. Bites as hard as he can at his lip, trying to chase away the pleasure dancing along his nerves, but Shigaraki must want it to feel good. Kisses him again and again, hands moving over his body, one returning to stroke his cock in time with his deliberate rolling thrusts that have him sinking in so deep and rubbing over his prostate each time he moves. A slow, deliberate, building rhythm that soaks his body in unwanted arousal even as his stomach curdles. Can't help the little breathless whimpers that keep sneaking out of him. 

"Perfect, baby, so pretty when you cry, feel so good," fucks him leisurely, like he has all the time in the world. "So glad you finally called for me, firefly. Didn't know how long I could keep waiting," more kisses, hands holding him a little tighter. "Told you that you would want it, can't wait to have you like this every night." 

Doesn't know if it's terror or shame that consumes him as Shigaraki keeps murmuring in his ear as he works them both steadily towards their climaxes. Just knows that by the time it's over he's been broken again in some new, fresh way he has no idea how to cope with. 

///

Dabi's not quite sure how it could even happen, but somehow he managed to pass out after that. Wakes up feeling foggy and a little sore, his gut hollow, and skin cleaner than it should be. And cuddled up against Shigaraki's chest, deadly hands petting softly over his skin and face pressed into his hair. Dabi tenses, reaching for his quirk--

"None of that, firefly." A burst of pain starts somewhere near his lower back, a spike of something numb and cold before agony creeps through him and he loses all of the breath in his lungs in a split second as he hears his skin crack. Dabi sharply drops his temperature again, doesn't dare try to reach for his flames again and the pain stops. The whole room is spinning as he realizes that Shigaraki just used Decay on him. Hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look up, and Dabi can't help the muted sound of terror that slips out of his lips to have him touching him there. Duster's eyes are warm, a soft smile on his lips, "Shh baby, it's alright, can you take a slow breath for me?"

Can he? Dabi forces himself to as Shigaraki rubs his thumb just under his eye, can feel four points of contact against his cheek. He manages to suck in a breath. 

"Good boy, out." He listens, trapped between deadly hands, until he's not hyperventilating anymore. But the pain still radiating out from his back is sharp and raw. "There." He holds very still as Shigaraki leans in and presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

"Shigaraki this is-- you can't do this," He doesn't know if he's ever heard his voice so thin and terrified. 

Shigaraki's voice has no right to be so soft as he pulls Dabi even closer until their foreheads are pressed together. "Why not? You came and found me, you decided to stay by my side, you've been so eager to show me how useful you can be. You've been practically begging for me to make you mine." One hand stays on his cheek, but the other wraps back around his waist, pulling their bodies even closer, and Dabi's panic spikes. "I was going to wait a little longer, until you came to me again, but last night, you were so needy, so desperate to be claimed, I couldn't leave you aching." Lips against his temple. "And now you don't have to worry about that again. Never going to be needy now that you're mine." 

"Shigaraki--" Words turning to ash in his throat as the hand trails down to his ass, swallowing hard and trembling, not sure if he's more terrified of the sting of Decay or if he's scared of him forcing his fingers inside dry. 

"Mine, Dabi, you understand that, don't you, sweetheart?" 

"Stop, Shig, please--" 

"Mine," Duster murmuring the words against his temple, "Because everyone knows you're with the League, because if you try to run, no one will help you. Because if you try to use your quirk," the hand moves up to his back again, pressing roughly enough on the wound that he cries out softly. "I'll have to use mine." Did it over one of his patches of scars, he realizes dizzily. Even if he told the others, if he tries to show them proof-- probably just looks like one of his staples tore loose. Anguish is building in his chest. "I don't want to do that. You're so beautiful, I don't want to have to punish you, but I will if you make me."

"Don't," Always thought Shigaraki was kind of creepy, but Dabi never expected to be scared of him. "Please, we can forget about this, I won't say anything--" Has had so many horrible things happen to him, what's one more? Can put this away, can hide it, and hold on until he finds an opportunity to burn Shigaraki out too. 

Shigaraki ignores him, "There are some rules that you'll have to follow now that you're mine, baby boy. And as long as you follow them," fingers digging into the wound again, making black spots burst across his vision, "I won't have to punish you again. Understand?" 

He really thinks he might vomit, but he forces himself to nod. 

"Good boy, we're going to go over them now," Shigaraki presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "On your hands and knees, baby." 

Dabi gives a weak sob even as he starts to move.

///

That was three weeks ago. Shigaraki made sure that he was settled into his ownership, made sure that he was used to his new routine and Dabi had a few more patches of Decay across his body from fighting at first. Stopped soon enough when he realized just how unhinged Shigaraki is, when he was made abundantly aware that if he kept struggling that he wouldn't even make it to a fight with his father. 

The others still come and go for their own jobs, Shigaraki still has him working on things he doesn't need to leave for, and... has him doing the housework. Mocked him for that before this started, but now it's become clear that's part of whatever delusion the other villain has constructed. That this is their home, not just a safe house, that Dabi is doing all of this as an act of service, of devotion. Makes him sick to his stomach because it kind of was before Shigaraki twisted it. Started cleaning just because he couldn't stand the mess, but then the others had been so surprised, so happy with it all. He'd started doing it for them. Thinks that's the only reason he doesn't hate it now as he keeps at it even when--

"Are you almost finished, baby?" Deadly hands catch him around his hips as Shigaraki's body presses along his spine. He doesn't even shiver anymore. Routine. 

"Yes, sir." Was cleaning up after prepping things for dinner. The others won't probably be back until late, just wanted to have things ready to throw in the oven once they came back. Routine to have Shigaraki peppering kisses along his neck, a hand slipping over his ass and making him all too aware of the plug keeping him ready to take the other man's cock whenever he wants him to. 

Routine to have him wake every morning, shower, prepare himself for the day, and then have to go into Shigaraki's room, get on his hands and knees, and let the other man open him up and slip the plug inside. Makes him wear it until they turn in for the night, only takes it out then. At first, he thought that would mean that Shigaraki would be using him every day, but he doesn't. Just wants the constant knowledge that he will again to sit on his nerves. He belongs to Duster, keeping him full of the plug is a reminder. 

But Sir does actually seem to want him right now. He can feel him pressing half-hard against him as his mouth moves over his skin, the other hand snaking around to slip under his apron and shirt to toy with the seam curving across his stomach. Dabi hates how quickly he's learned every place that can make him hot, how he always makes sure his need is so high against his will that by the time Sir's cock is buried inside of him, he can't do anything but sob and moan, his body betraying him when he rocks back to get more friction. He does his best not to squirm as his face starts to heat with his humiliation. 

"Please sir, just a few more minutes? I just want to keep things tidy for you." 

"Yeah, sweetheart?" But his mouth is more insistent against his neck. Sensitive there from his scars and none of his other partners ever touched him there because of them. Between that, the probing touches slowly drifting lower across his stomach, and Tomura grinding his cock against him, it has him close to trembling embarrassingly quickly as sour arousal starts to slip along his nerves. "Always being such a good girl," Dabi's humiliation spikes sharply, his face burning as he really does start to shake. Another thing of Shigaraki's. Likes to call him that, treat him like his little housewife. Makes Dabi disgusted with himself because it has his cock starting to harden. Worse because Duster chuckles against his skin, knows how hot that makes him too. "What if I want you to be a mess, precious?" 

The hand moves from his stomach up to his mouth and Dabi opens automatically. Knows that he's supposed to. Sir presses his fingers past his lips, has him lick at them. He's already wet, but he would rather have more than less when it comes to being split open around Sir's cock, so he licks at his cool skin until Tomura is satisfied. Is expecting the other man to make him bend over the island again and tug his sweats down so he can remove his plug and fuck him full, but instead his wet hand slips down his front, under his waistband. Dabi lets out a thready moan as he wraps his fingers insistently around his cock and starts to stroke and tease him. Doesn't know if this is better or worse, but Shigaraki doesn't always want to get off himself when he corners Dabi. Seems to take so much delight in making him 'feel good' like for every second of forced pleasure, Dabi isn't left sobbing just as long. Tomura's mouth goes back to his neck as he strokes him, his other hand slipping under his shirt to toy with the piercings through his nipples. Dabi tries to ignore everything else, just let it happen and then it will be over again. 

At least... at least Tomura's obsessions all just want him subservient, want him... enjoying himself if not happy. Doesn't seem to delight in any greater cruelty than making him cry. Doesn't seem to actually enjoy hurting him with his quirk when he misbehaves. It could be worse, it could be so much worse, he remembers how his mother used to not be able to walk, how her pale skin would be mottled with bruises over and over again until she finally got pregnant with Shoto. If he has to endure this, then he'd rather Shigaraki be obsessed with the idea of them as a happy couple rather than as a plaything to be used and ruined at his whim. 

"Tomura," Gasped out because he's starting to drip as the other man plays with his ladder, his mouth sucking a bruise no one will be able to see on the sensitive patch of skin just below his ear. 

"That's it, princess, show me how much you want it." 

Hard to make his shaking muscles comply, but he forces himself to start to move, fucking into Shigaraki's hand as his arousal creeps higher and higher. Will probably be over once he cums. Tomura will probably want him on his knees later before he takes out his plug. Tries to put that out of his mind. Friction is friction. 

He's so close when he hears the front door unlock and his veins are drenched with ice. He tries to twist away from Shigaraki. The others don't know about this. Doesn't want them to know. Doesn't know how he would tell them. What Shigaraki would do to them if they tried to stop what's happening? Duster is more than willing to use force to get what he wants, has let so many other members of the League be tossed aside if that would get him closer to his goals. Would he hurt them to keep him just like this?

Sir's hand moves faster over him, keeping his pleasure sharp as he hears Spinner enter the house with a loud, "Yo," in greeting. 

"If you track in mud," Dabi is almost proud of how little his voice shakes, how agitated he manages to sound instead of humiliated, "I'll kill you, gecko." Rain has been pattering against the roof all day. Must be soaked. He's dripping all over Tomura's hand. Dabi shoves his knuckles between his teeth to muffle any sounds as Duster twists at his piercings and sinks his teeth into the other side of his neck. Just hard enough. Learned that just the right spark of pain--

"Yeah, yeah, I'm taking off my boots." 

Dabi lets out a harsh pant and a muffled cry as Shigaraki rolls his hips against his, making his plug shift inside of him, and that does it. Spills all over his boxers and sweats, his legs wanting to drop out from under him. Can't let the unwanted pleasure of his orgasm shake through him for too long, realizes that he did exactly what Sir wanted and made a mess as he moves away from him, going over to wash his hands before helping him to put things away. Dabi is about to be absolutely mortified when their companion walks in before he realizes that his apron is hiding the wet spot from view. 

Spinner comes in and starts to give them an update about a potential group of recruits he's found and Dabi pretends to pay attention. Can't focus on anything but the cum drying against his skin. 

///

Dabi feels even more off than he has for the past few weeks by the time he gets up the next morning and makes his way to Shigaraki's room. He barely knocks, Duster always seems to know where he is, and at this point, he's absolutely positive that the whole house is bugged in some way or another, and Shigaraki's door is always unlocked for him in the morning anyway. He steps inside and abruptly realizes that Shigaraki's room must also be soundproof because Tomura is on the phone. He's still in his pajamas, his plug isn't waiting for him on the bed or nightstand, Shigaraki sitting at the desk tapping away at a tablet that Dabi hasn't seen before. 

"--press is extracting that information as we speak." Duster also has the box of quirk-erasing bullets on the table. "Once that's finished we'll be moving to a location closer to your main lab." Oh, talking to the monster maker. That's actually probably good news as far as their goals go. Means that they might be moving forward soon. Shigaraki glances up at him and waves him off. Never let any of them talk to the monster maker, clearly doesn't want him eavesdropping on this conversation. Dabi is more than happy to leave the room without the unwanted accessory. He starts back towards his room. None of the others are home this morning, as far as he's aware, and he might as well wait for Duster to finish his call before he starts on breakfast--

A recklessness surges through him. He gets dressed in his civilian clothes, doesn't dare try to grab his bag, doesn't take anything that would make it obvious that he's not coming back. If things are bugged then Shigaraki is likely to stop him if he sees even a trace of his intentions. He heads downstairs and writes a note, just says he's going to pick up a few things for later, even takes his phone with him. He'll ditch it on the street near the shop and hop a train. At least then if Duster can somehow track it, he might buy himself a little extra time. Dabi doesn't waste any more time and starts on his way. It's the first time he's been out of the house in... god, months? 

He makes his way as swiftly as he can in the direction he wants to go, but it's not raining for the first time in days, and even overcast, people are all over the streets, trying to soak up the fresh air while they can get it. It makes moving slow going and frustrating. Not going to be able to just slink along the main streets, too risking with so many people out and about. Going to have to take side streets and back alleys. Wouldn't normally be a problem but that slows his progress to a crawl. He was always planning on hopping a train in the seedier part of town but this is torture. Takes him an hour just to get into the commercial district. 

Really shouldn't be surprised that he's barely there when his phone chimes. Not surprising at all that it's Shigaraki's name that pops up with the alert. 

Duster: I didn't give you permission to leave. 

He takes a breath, tempted to ditch his phone right now and just sprint to the nearest train station. But Shigaraki didn't call him. Duster always calls them when he wants something. He doesn't like having anything written down in case one of them gets caught. Did he not call because he's already following him? Because Dabi would be able to tell he was moving and not in the house? Never seen Shigaraki text unless he was giving Kurogiri an extraction point--

The next text comes through with the name of the street he's on and Dabi's gut goes leaden. Should have known better. Duster never thought to lock him in the house, just told him to stay and he had because Dabi knew that getting away would be impossible. He takes a shaky breath and responds, 

Dabi: I just wanted to pick up something special for tonight. It's just going to be us, isn't it, sir?

Keeps going without a response. 

Dabi: I'm being careful, I promise I'll be home soon.

Duster: One hour, Dabi. 

Doesn't make an overt threat over the phone, but Dabi knows that he's in for hell if he doesn't make it on time. Has only been punished for small things, flinching away from his touch, trying to push him away, talking back. He doesn't want to know what Tomura will do to him if he's not perfect. 

His eyes scan the street a little franticly. Needs to find something to make his outing seem worth it, and he needs to do it quickly. 

///

It's honestly a miracle that it starts raining as he exits the grocery store. It means that people start to tuck themselves back inside and he's able to run and it just looks like he's trying to keep his shopping from getting too wet on his way to his destination. The rain is probably the only thing that keeps him from being late as he slips back into the house fifty-five minutes after Tomura's warning. He lets his quirk vent through his skin, his tension over the past almost-hour high enough that as soon as he loosens his hold on it, the water starts to evaporate from his clothes. He moves to get out of his boots and pauses at the array of shoes his are joining. 

"Dabi!" Toga's voice is bright from the living room. 

"Don't track in mud," Spinner mocks him from the same direction. He catches his breath, stops steaming, and hangs up his jacket before making his way in their direction with his bags. 

Sure enough, the rest of the League is there, Shigaraki included, all gathered around in the living room. Looks like someone brought back takeout for lunch. "Don't you all have jobs?" They weren't supposed to be here. His eyes flit to Duster's and Shigaraki is watching him, but doesn't say anything as he pivots and starts to head towards the kitchen. 

"Circumstances ended up bringing us all home a bit early." Compress remarks. 

"Aren't you happy to see us? Bah, he's never happy!" 

"What'd you get?" Toga asks as she bounces over from the living room to the island as he puts the bags down. Immediately reaches for the black bag that's clearly not from the grocery store and he reaches out and smacks her hand away reflexively, a few harmless sparks leaping off the back of his hand. 

"None of your business, leech." 

She sticks out her tongue as she moves to the other side of the island and he pulls the bag away and puts it beside the fridge so she can't grab for it again as he starts to unpack the groceries. 

"Sorry for not giving you more forewarning," Compress tells him more reasonably. 

Dabi can feel Shigaraki watching him. Knows that the longer that he waits to talk to him, the more trouble he'll be in. God, he's not even wearing his plug. He's going to be in so much trouble-- "You should be," Keeps turned fully towards the fridge and does his very best to not let his voice shake at all as he continues, "You're interrupting date night." Things go so quiet that he can hear every raindrop pattering against the window and then--

"Date night?!" 

"I told you! Shiggy's been smelling like love for months!" 

"There's no way-- I totally saw this coming!"

He feels his face heat, chances glancing at Duster while the others are getting so animated. Tomura is watching him, looks a little surprised himself, and then, his eyes go soft and warm. Maybe he is in love with him. Maybe whatever this fucked up thing he'd pushed on him is the only way he knew how to act on that. Doesn't exactly think that All For One or Kurogiri were teaching him any kind of sane form of affection. No excuse for what he's done, what Dabi knows he's going to keep making him do, but it's going to happen either way. An easier-to-look-at veneer is more for his sake than anything else. 

"You know it's been ages since we went to Giran's. What? We just saw him--" Spinner elbows Twice hard in his sternum to cut off his contradiction. 

"You're right dude, we should go over for poker night since we're all free for once." 

"Aw but--" Toga immediately whines, wanting to soak up any potential threads of romance like a sponge. 

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jin why don't you give him a call?" Compress says pointedly. 

It's genuinely astounding how fast the others clear out, at that. And Dabi's gut turns at how... excited they are. Toga is beaming, hugs him and Shigaraki, Spinner gives Shig a thumbs up when he thinks Dabi won't notice. Happy for them, they make that abundantly clear before they're all gone again, willing to get soaked and head two districts over to go see Giran just to give them their privacy. Fuck, that would be so sweet of them if this were real. They're all gone in a matter of minutes and Dabi finishes putting the groceries away, sure that he's in for a punishment, and just waiting for it. 

He tries to keep his quirk from spiking his temperature with his panic when, as soon as it's quiet in the house again, Shigaraki is moving towards him with deliberate steps. Opens his mouth to apologize, to say anything as he turns to face him, anything to try and make what happens next not hurt as badly-- Dabi doesn't expect for Shigaraki to catch him around the waist and pull him in, pressing in for a kiss. He lets out a soft sound of surprise, but Shigaraki just takes that as an opportunity to lick deeply into his mouth, backing him against the edge of the counter and holding him there. Keeps kissing him like neither of them need to breathe. Until Dabi has his hands tangled in his hair and he's trying to gasp against his lips to just get a second of reprieve,

"Tomura," 

Duster kisses any other words out of his mouth. Keeps going until Dabi's dizzy and his body is a little too hot. Not sure if it's his quirk or not. Doesn't think Shigaraki has kissed him like this before. Dabi... isn't sure anyone has ever kissed him like this. Like they can't get enough of him, like the thought of a millimeter of space between them is unthinkable. When Shigaraki does finally pull away, Dabi is dazed and then gagged with his nerves when those red eyes are so warm and so close to him. Adoring. 

"I'm so proud of you, firefly." Knuckles running gently over his cheek. "I was beginning to think that you would never be ready to tell the others. Should have known you would surprise me. You always do." 

Doesn't even mention his leaving. Not even a whisper of threat in his tone that warns him of an oncoming punishment. Okay, that's good, okay. He can... play along. That's what he's been doing anyway, hasn't it? "Barely seen you all day, didn't want them to spoil tonight." 

"Yeah?" Tomura's tone is slightly amused as he presses a kiss to his cheek and along his jaw. "And what do you have planned for tonight, firefly?" 

Humiliation turns his gut into sour knots, but he makes himself mirror that sweet smile on the other man's face. "Can I surprise you? You've been," he tries to put whatever is left in him to protest away. He needs to stay alive long enough to fight his father, keeping the monster obsessed with him happy is the only way that's going to happen. And after that, it won't matter anymore. He just has to get there. Already planning on doing anything to make it. What's one more horror? "So good to me while I've been getting used to things. I want to show you how much I appreciate that." 

If anyone else had ever kissed him the way that Tomura does after hearing him say that, then Dabi thinks he might have doubted the end he'd been planning for himself. Because Shigaraki kisses him like he believes every drop of his affection is real. That this is love instead of something brutal and twisted. Dabi pretends for a second too, is breathless again by the time he's released. "Alright, precious. Do you need me to help with anything?" 

"No, sir. I just want to make things perfect for you, Tomura." Hesitates with bile in the back of his throat as his face heats with his shame. Duster sees his hesitation and waits, "You were busy this morning, will you," really thinks he's going to be sick but if he can avoid getting maimed--but he still can't bring himself to ask for the plug. "I want to be ready for after dinner." 

The next kiss has a little more heat in it as Shigaraki starts to steer him towards the stairs, "Of course, pretty boy, always happy to fill up your needy hole." 

"Thank you, sir." Hopes he mistakes the thinness in his voice for arousal as they start to move towards the stairs.

///

There's real work to do through the late afternoon, the others gave updates while they were here, the monster maker is interested in rekindling their working relationship. It's all good stuff for the League, movements towards their goals. But Dabi is only half paying attention. Is really using the bout of normalcy to meditate on everything that's going to happen as soon as they stop working. Feels like that time comes in minutes instead of hours, but eventually Dabi excuses himself to go get started on dinner. Shigaraki lets him go, eyes still way too affectionate as he does. He preps for the meal meticulously, making sure that everything is as perfect as he can get it, and loads the final dish into the oven to cook while he goes about tidying up the rest of the downstairs. 

The others came and went like a tornado which means that by the time he's finished cleaning it actually looks like he did something. But all too soon he's finished with that. Usually leaves prep dishes for after they've finished eating, but he isn't even sure they're going to get to eating tonight, certainly doesn't think he'll be able to delay the inevitable by claiming he needs to deal with them, so he might as well just take care of it all now. When everything is spotless and the smell of dinner is starting to waft around the house he stops dragging his feet and goes upstairs to get changed. 

The black bag wasn't from anywhere particularly scandalous, it's not like there was a fetish store right next to the grocer, but he did not know how he would explain the clothes he got from the modest boutique any more than the plug he's been wearing around. He thinks that he would almost rather pull his skin from his staples instead of slipping into the lace-edged navy panties and matching bra and the dress he'd managed to grab. It's probably a good thing that he's so thin and not too tall, or finding anything in the shop that would have fit him at all would have probably been an impossibility. As is, the A-line black cocktail dress probably wouldn't have fit his broader shoulders if he had picked anything with sleeves instead of straps, but the fabric is just thick enough to cover his bra and sit comfortably over his shoulders, trailing down into the fitted bodice and flared skirt. He looks at himself in the mirror and wants to puke. Doesn't know how Shigaraki could look at him and see a housewife, but this will likely not dissuade him from the notion. Whatever. As long as he doesn't say anything about it in front of the others. 

He forces himself to head back downstairs, giving a brief knock against Duster's door and calling, "Dinner should be ready in ten," before swiftly heading for the stairs. He puts his apron back on to keep his dress as tidy as everything else as he takes the chicken from the oven. Both it and the vegetables roasted alongside come out without any notable issues and he starts to plate things as he hears Tomura coming down the stairs. He is pulling the wine from the fridge when he comes into the room and doesn't force himself to acknowledge him a moment sooner than he has to. 

Really not expecting to find he's not the only one who's dressed up as Shigaraki picks up the plates off of the counter, wearing black dress pants and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled. Never seen him in anything besides his villain stuff and his sleepwear. Takes him a second of his brain trying to play catch up with how well this 'date night' excuse has gone to cover his escape attempt before he remembers, 

"You don't need to do that, sir. I'll get them--" 

"I know, precious, but your hands are already full. You've already done so much today, baby, come sit down." Pauses him to press a kiss to his cheek and Dabi picks up the wine glasses and follows him over to the table. Tomura pulls his chair out for him like he's a gentleman and not a monster. "You look beautiful, precious." 

He hates himself for how his face heats and how the blush doesn't feel as unhappy and humiliated as it did before. "Thank you, sir." 

Dinner is kind of a blur. He thought he would be playing the simpering housewife, and he is to a degree, but not as large of one as he thought. Shigaraki wants him docile and adoring, but he still wants him, and the conversation shifts easily from work to books he's been reading, to things the others have been getting up to, and all the like. It's calm. The food turned out well. Dabi forces himself to eat even though his stomach is still tight with his dread and finds himself wishing he could drink enough to numb what's going to happen when they're finished, but with how high his nerves are he's more likely just to burn off the alcohol and end up being hung over in half an hour. 

When they're finished eating, Dabi expects to be pushed along upstairs to get on his knees or roll over for the other villain, but Shigaraki helps him clear the table instead. He lets Dabi pull on his gloves and apron and start to wash the dishes, and to his surprise, Duster starts to dry them and put them away, the conversation continuing from the table. And for a split second, he feels it, sees it. The domesticity that could have been real if it had been allowed to bloom naturally. But it doesn't last long. Already mostly washed up before dinner, so soon enough Duster is putting away the last plate and Dabi is reluctantly taking off his apron and gloves again. Not a surprise when Shigaraki moves closer then, catching him with four fingers around his waist and he makes himself tilt his head to accept the kiss immediately. 

"Let's go upstairs, beautiful." 

"Okay," not like he really has a choice about that. 

Shigaraki laces most of their fingers together on one hand and he follows along up the stairs. Is in Duster's room all too soon, and that is a bit of a surprise. Unless he's putting in his plug, Shigaraki always fucks him in his room. Makes his sheets smell like sex that Dabi can't escape without doing laundry constantly, hasn't ever fucked him in his bed before. He shivers slightly when Duster's cool fingers catch the edge of his jaw. Still not used to the coolness of his skin, doesn't know if he ever will be. But he lets the other man kiss him, heat starting to build in it as he's pulled in even closer. 

He makes his hands work, reaching to start to undo the buttons on Tomura's shirt as the kiss deepens. He has to do this, has to survive. What's one more horror? Dabi forces himself to pretend. At least Shigaraki always wants it to feel good for both of them. At least he doesn't think he needs to be scared about being torn open and left bleeding on the sheets. He makes himself stop thinking. Anyone's hands on him, gently pushing him back until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. Someone else's shoulders he's pushing the fabric of their shirt over as he sinks onto the sheets. Doesn't work very well as he spreads his legs so that Duster can climb between them and it's a careful four-fingered touch that's just starting to push up the hem of his skirt. 

"So beautiful in this, baby girl. Didn't know you wanted to get dressed up like this." Mouth moving across his jaw to find the sensitive parts of his neck and send heat spilling out alongside his humiliation in his veins. 

"...I thought you would like it, sir." 

"I do, princess." Voice dripping with his affection and arousal as he finds the zipper running down his back. Dabi blushes hotly as he arches up, pressing more of their bodies together so that he can catch it and start to tug it down. Hates how good the coolness of Shigaraki's body feels against his heated skin as he does. Pulls the zipper low and then starts to slip the straps from his shoulders as he kisses along the same path his hands are traveling. "Do you want to dress like this for me again, sweetheart?" 

No. "Okay, but," his face is so hot as Duster pulls the bodice down his body and sees his bra. Red eyes darken and he can feel him hardening against his thigh. Mortifying how seeing that want, feeling it, is making his own start to spike nervously higher. "Just for you? I-- I don't want anyone else--" 

Tomura catches his lips in another more demanding kiss, swallows up his breath and words before he has him kicking away his dress as he settles back between his legs. Can't help the startled moan that slips out into the kiss as his hands move across his body and tease at his nipple piercings through the fabric cupping his chest. "That's fine, precious, I know you're shy. Can just be something for us." Eyes dragging over him and lingering half hard and already straining the soft fabric of his panties. "I'll have to get you some more things to wear. Will hardly be able to keep my hands off of you knowing you're dressed so cute under your other clothes." 

Lets that tangle up in equal parts arousal and misery as he realizes Tomura is going to keep him in panties as constantly as he keeps him full of his plug. But Sir is trying to make the arousal sit higher in his veins. Seems to want to work him up tonight and knows all of the places that he needs to touch to get that happening faster. Made worse by the constant press of the plug in him, and as his arousal grows, it makes his prostate more sensitive. Every little shift has it prodding against him more intensely and he can't help it when he squirms just wrong and it settles with a pressure firm enough to have a loud moan slipping from between his lips, his hips immediately jumping, wanting to get friction against his aching cock and back again against the plug. He whimpers when he feels how hard Tomura is too. 

"Ready for more, baby?" Lips pressing sweetly against his as fingers trail lower, until he's stroking him through his panties. Dabi's insides tighten unhappily, but that just puts more pressure inside of him, makes his nerves tingle with more of the unwanted pleasure. But he knows what he's supposed to say, 

"Please, sir?" Glad that Duster kisses him again, that he can pretend that he's just so needy for more that it's impatience that has a weak sob slipping from his lips as the sound of him undoing his belt is so loud in the quiet room. He doesn't have long before the last barrier between their skin is removed and he's trying to shift to get onto his hands and knees. Prefers that when Shigaraki does this. At least then he can hide his face against the pillows and sheets, can muffle some of his sobs, and save himself a little of the indignity he's being forced to endure. 

But Shigaraki stops him today, makes him settle with his head against the pillows, and his legs spread wide for him. One hand comes up to stroke his thumb across his cheek. Smears away one of the thin trickles of blood that have managed to sneak out from his eyes. "Stay like this, darling, I want to see you." The other hand moves to catch the base of his plug and Dabi wants to hide, wants to turn his face away as he lets out another moan as it drags along his slick, twitching walls as it's pulled free. "Always blush the prettiest pink when we make love." 

His whole body tenses before he can stop himself, his temperature spiking slightly with his distress. Doesn't know why that upsets him so much, already knew in the back of his mind that's what this was for Shigaraki. But hearing it makes a pain blossom inside of him that he doesn't know what to do with or even where it's come from. Hits him so hard that his distress is plain even through the delusion that Shigaraki has constructed for them apparently, because the next second he's pressing their foreheads together and shushing him gently. 

"It's alright, baby boy. I know you're not there yet. I can wait for you to be ready, as long as you know how much I love you, firefly." Tomura, thankfully, doesn't make him respond. Just gives him more sweet, soft kisses as he starts to press inside. Dabi throws himself into the way his nerves all lit up at being so much fuller, anything to distract him from the agony alight in his chest that he hadn't expected when he'd been resigning himself to the horrors he knew would be coming for him tonight. It's easier for him to suffuse his body with the shame that his reluctant pleasure gives him as Tomura moves inside of him, as his lips and hands move over his body than to accept anything else that is happening in his chest or head now. 

Tomura makes love to him, fucks him, uses him as a receptacle for his fantasies. Makes him fall apart again and again until he's barely conscious, and then pulls him close and keeps murmuring his affection against his hair and skin. It's a mercy when the blackness of sleep finally comes for him, even if that doesn't guarantee that Shigaraki won't use him again while his mind is quiet. 

///

When he wakes next it's to light pressing in against the curtains, blankets angled around his naked skin, and his face tucked tight against Duster's chest. Clinging to the other man in his sleep. His distress and disgust swell because the hands petting along his back are so light, not holding him here. Dabi tries to disentangle himself without getting dusted and startles when he feels a weight around his wrist and hears the tinkling sound of metal on metal. 

The suppression cuff is hooked around his left wrist when he pulls his hand into view. He tries automatically, stupidly, to bring his quirk to the surface of his skin, but it's like missing a step in the dark, leaves him fumbling and terrified. "Tomura?" 

Immediately gets a kiss pressed to the crown of his head before Duster catches his chained hand and laces most of their fingers together. "Last night was wonderful, sweetheart, I loved my surprise. But I told you that you had to stay put. You still deliberately disobeyed me." Brings their entwined knuckles to his lips so he can press a kiss there too. "So from now on you're going to come to my room when it's time for bed, and we're going to sleep like this until I can trust you to be good again." Never going to let him sleep in his own bed again, he knows instinctively. Going to keep him as close as possible until he's his docile, perfect pet, or at least until Dabi acts like it. 

"Yes, sir." His voice is barely his with how small it is. As far as punishments go, it could still be so much worse. Not like having a separate place to sleep ever protected him from Shigaraki in the first place. Doesn't put up any resistance when he catches his chin with two more fingers and tilts his head up to give him a kiss. 

"Good boy. Are you ready to get up, sweetheart? Not sure when the others will be home, want to make sure you're all ready for the day." 

///

They didn't need to rush, though Dabi was honestly more than happy to exchange the handcuff for the more familiar helplessness of his plug, because the others creep in around the mid-afternoon, poking their heads into the living room like they're afraid they're going to find them fucking on the island. Not that Shigaraki hasn't fucked him on the island before, but whatever. As soon as they see they're just sitting in the living room, finished with work stuff, and Dabi's just listening to one of his books while waiting for the laundry to finish as Duster taps away at one of his games, their trepidation quickly leaves and they pour into the room. 

"How was--" Spinner cuffs Toga across the back of her head and parries the immediate retaliation of one of her knives to cut off her question. 

"Welcome back," Duster says with some amusement. Dabi decides, for his sanity, he's going to ignore it all and pulls his headphones off of his ears. 

"You guys eat yet?" 

A round of negatives and he starts towards the kitchen. It's kind of a surprise that Compress follows him there as Toga definitely tries to get any details she can out of Shigaraki, and Twice and Spinner try to reign her in. At least Compress knows how to cook, and they start to make lunch in a mostly comfortable silence as the others grow more raucous in the room beyond. It's only when Twice has launched into a rambling story riddled with loud contradictions, that Mister catches his attention and speaks softly under the din. 

"Thank you for everything you've been doing, Dabi." 

He shrugs, "It's not a big deal, barely have anything to do while Duster has me on lockdown." Not expecting Compress to gently catch his elbow and he really hopes the leather of his gloves is thick enough that the older man doesn't feel his temperature spike with his fear. 

"It's a bigger deal than I think you know, Dabi." Still careful and soft, speaking quietly enough to not draw attention from the others even as his eyes stray back towards the living room. "I don't know what your family situation was like," and god fucking damn it, does Compress just seem to be finding every sore spot to poke at right now. Though thankfully he doesn't keep touching his arm when Dabi pulls away. "But it's clear that the others have never had a home before. I don't think any of them are even capable of telling you how much it means that you've been going out of your way to care for them, and the house, and to treat them like family. This fight will be long, drawn-out, and brutal, and for as much conviction as Shigaraki has, we already know that all of us may not survive to see the end of it. You showing them what it's like to have a home may be the only time they ever get to experience it at all." 

A lump swells in his throat. Toga snarking at Spinner. Twice is gesticulating wildly as he continues to tell his story to Shigaraki, his cheek resting against his knuckles and listening with a wry, amused affection that he never saw on him while they were in Kamino. A home. A family. Shigaraki raped me. The words are choking him. He could say them. He could turn to Compress right now and tell him, ask for help. Compress isn't like the others. He's older, more level-headed, definitely the most stable and mature. Compress would help if he thought he could. And Dabi would destroy the home the League has made here, found with each other. Sour every good memory they have in this house. Doesn't even want to think what Shigaraki will do in the wake of his delusion being broken. If he'll receive the brunt of his retaliation or if the League will. No. He swallows the lump, hides away the words. Locks them up deep inside where he's locked up his name. He's already going to burn one family to ashes. He's not going to do the same to the one he actually... likes. 

"God you're way too melodramatic, Mister." His voice sounds more level than he'd expected it to. Finishes getting things swiftly enough and then calls to the others, "Yo, food's ready."

They make their way into the kitchen, still lively as ever, Spinner's got some new game for them to play after they actually debrief. They get their food with scattered thanks and Dabi waits until most of them are headed towards the table before he catches Duster's sleeve between two fingers to pull him to a stop. Only manages to take a shaky little breath before he closes the space between them for the first time. Tomura stills, thinks he might have actually surprised the other man again. But then he curls a hand around the back of his neck and turns it softer and deeper than Dabi would have on his own. 

When he pulls back Dabi barely manages to breathe, "I love you." The words aren't for Shigaraki. Not now. Maybe someday he'll be able to pretend that they're real, pretend that he means them. But right now he says those words while looking at the monster who's taken more of him than he even thought he had left, and he whispers them for the friends who are whistling and mocking them from the other side of the room. He's only ever endured his suffering for hate before, and that left him half insane in his isolation before he found them. Maybe enduring this, knowing that they'll get to hold onto their happiness a little longer for each moment he does, will be easier with his love for them sitting in his chest and worn on the apron draped around his neck. 

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Hi I had a question!

I noticed my corn snake Petunia has some scale rot in the last few weeks and I've been giving betadine baths 1-2 times a day and changed out substrate, I sent pics into the vet and they suggested I bring her in, but what realistically would they be able to do? Like do they give her a shot or? Cuz I want to bring her in but cost is always scary, but obviously the thought of losing her is scarier. I just wanted to know what I should expect, thank you so much!♡

Hello hello - I completely understand why you're worried about the cost, but it's my experience when rehabbing rescue snakes that scale rot usually isn't a super expensive fix. Scale rot in my experience usually costs no more than $200, but of course that will vary based on your vet and your area.

Your vet will probably prescribe antibiotic ointment (or sometimes silver sulfadiazine). The prescription stuff will 100% help your baby clear up her scale rot faster than you'd be able to do with the betadine baths alone. They might also give her an antibiotic injection to speed things along (when I take rescues in for scale rot, we usually also do these injections, probably at least 75% of the time).

Snakes are really good at hiding their pain, so I absolutely recommend getting her checked out by the vet. They'll be able to prescribe the good stuff to help her clear up faster, and they'll be able to make sure she's not dealing with any nasty infections or the like. Scale rot usually isn't super expensive, but it might help to call the vet for a price estimate before you go in, to help ease your mind a little and make sure you're prepared.

All the best, I hope poor Petunia feels better soon!!