#It rubbed a little sore by the time we figured out something was wrong

[willowlark369]

Maybe it’s just tabbies in general.

This is my Johnny boy. (He turns 10yrs in about a month.)

He is about those numbers lengthwise (his tail is only 15in). Last year when he got an abscess in his mouth (long story; he’s fine now), he dropped down to 16 lbs & worried everyone, including the vet. He’s now back up to 18 lbs. The vet said he’s just big, despite how he’s over twice the weight of most of my other cats (all of them except Loki who is even bigger than he is at 24 lbs).

Mochi is 18 pounds??? Jeez are you sure he's actually a housecat?

He is VERY fat (and has been on a diet/carefully monitored by the vet, and being a huge baby about it) but he's also huge. He's about 16 inches at the shoulder, about 2 feet long and with an 18 inch tail. He doesn't have tom jowls at all so we don't think it's a product of being fixed late.

Apparently sometimes domestic shorthairs, but esp. Orange tabbies, just come out huge.

[lbxbx]

Blackmail 5 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

Previous 

Your doorbell rings twice before you rush to open it, your joints still feel loose from the night before and today hasn’t been quite your day, despite it being your weekend, you’re not enjoying your time still trying to recover from last night’s hangover.

You were on the verge of doing something very stupid when alcohol was at its peak in your entire system, but you got lucky, and realized this morning that thankfully nothing happened.

The exact second you open your eyes the next morning you feel instant regret, you want way overboard with drinking to the point of actually falling asleep still in your dress on your couch. Immense pounding headache makes you close your eyes again and frown, you’re extremely sweaty and you need to shower like right now.

You do remember something happening the night before but you can’t pin-point it. It’s something that had to do with Taehyung, but you’re not quite sure what it was. Good god, why is the sun so bright, what time is it?

Your head snaps quickly to your surroundings trying to locate your phone, your neck is stiff from the long sleep on the couch and your back hurts like hell. You end up finding your poor phone thrown down on the floor, and it seems like it spent the night laying there.

Your sore joints don’t help when you stretch your arm over to grab your phone and unlock it, you looked so miserable this morning to the point of face ID barely recognizing you, you have to rub your eyes before looking back onto your screen and finally unlocking it.

And it unlocks straight into a post you wrote the night before and you instantly rewind the tape from last night and what exactly happened. You know you do stupid shit when you’re drunk heavy so it was a little expected for you to do such thing, luckily when you clicked share last night you still had to select an option on where to post the media you selected, you had to choose a platform to post onto.

You let out a breath of relief when you finally make sure that none of the media you selected was posted, you delete the entire post and lock your phone again before getting into the shower and proceeding with your usual morning routine.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re standing near your doorstep in utter confusion, you started questioning yourself on when did he figure out your address? But then your call that he drove you here once.

You’re still oblivious over the reason why he suddenly showed up on a Saturday morning. “Can I come in?” A heartwarming smile sits over his face, you invite him in and close the door behind him. “What’s up?” He takes a seat onto your couch.

“Not much, is there anything wrong? Are you okay?” You take a seat on the same couch only a couple seats away from him. “I was driving nearby, I figured I’d come over maybe we could have a chat.”

“Couldn’t this chat wait until Monday?” You ask, and he pauses to look at you feeling a little unwelcomed in your place, which makes you laugh nervously and scratch your temple. “I didn’t want it to sound like that, would you like a drink?”

He shrugs it off right away and answers. “Just water please.”

And as soon as you turn your back and head to your kitchen, Jungkook looks around the place scanning every single corner, memorizing the details around your place just like he was taught, he even gets up onto his feet and walks towards the console under your TV to search into the three drawers.

“Stay out of this Jungkook.” He’s about to leave the room before he gets pulled back by the wrist, “No I can’t stay out of this, just so you know, your stupid kink can not only ruin your career, it could ruin mine too, and I can’t sacrifice everything I worked hard for this past decade just so you could have your own fun.”

Taehyung has his own selective hearing and fully decides on not listening. “Look, you know I want the best for you right?” Jungkook asks which makes Taehyung pay a little attention.

“Yes, and?”

“I’d say you keep your distance from Y/N specifically, she’s after you. And I’m afraid if you’re not careful enough she might just… tell someone, or make a scene, and you don’t want that do you?” The younger genuinely cares about his friend, he’s even frustrated when Taehyung scoffs and immediately argues. “Trust me she won’t. she can’t prove anything. Besides.. I can’t post anything you know that, I’d be harming myself before I harm her, and honestly I could care less about her.”

“We kind of had a chat the other day , I’m pretty sure she said she has something that could possibly ruin your career, I don’t know what exactly, but she does. And I need you to be careful because she’s onto something.”

Taehyung drives Jungkook frustrated when he grabs Jungkook’s arm away from his own wrist and mutters. “Stay out of this Jungkook, I know what I’m doing.”

“Except you’re not.” Jungkook interrupts him right away. “I never thought I would say this, but I’m willing to testify against you if she decides to post anything, Hyung, I thought I’d choose you over her, but now I’d choose my career over you.”

Finally something manages to mess up Taehyung’s mind, Jungkook’s words finally knocked sense into him, “And Taehyung, if anything happens, you’re on your own.” He’s about to leave, but this time he’s the one being pulled by the wrist. “Jungkook wait.”

And the youngest turns towards Taehyung with a knot formed between his brows, “Jungkook tell me what should I do?”

And apparently, this is why Jungkook showed up to your place uninvited just so he can start his so called plan with Taehyung. Jungkook panics and gets back to his seat right away when he hears your footsteps coming back to the living room, he’s never done anything like this before and he’s nervous himself, worried that he’d get caught by you.

“Here you go.” You hand him a glass filled with water and he takes a sip to calm his pounding heart down, “I’m sorry I showed up uninvited, but I figured we could talk and probably help each other out.”

“Help each other?” You get back to your seat, he nods and puts the glass down. “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing with Taehyung, and I just wanted you to know that I’m fully on your side no matter what. He’s been doing this for so long to so many girls and it can’t be right.”

This by the way is totally against Jungkook’s principles, but fuck his principles right now he’s going to try and save his career that could vanish right after Taehyung’s.

“Look I tried so hard to talk him out of it, but he’s really determined to do it, so I figured I’d talk to you, maybe find out what you have against him, we could try and figure out something that could save us both.”  He gets closer to your seat before his hand lands onto your knee. “I care about you Y/N.”

The problem is that he sounds genuine to you at this moment, he’s worried over himself and his own career so this is his last minute decision to try and save it. “Thank you, Jungkook.” A faint smile sits on your face and you put your hand over his. “I have what it takes to end this man, you shouldn’t be worried.”

You feel the physical tension when he suddenly moves even closer and tugs your hair behind your ear before he whispers. “I trust you, Y/N, but we have to work together, and I want you to trust me too.”

“Just leave it to me Jungkook—“ And before you even finish he interrupts. “Shh, I know you can do this whole thing, but Y/N, I can help you keep your job.” He ends up pressing a kiss onto the warm skin of your neck right above your pulse, “Look we don’t have to decide anything right now, you seem a little tense and tired, maybe I can help you relax a bit.”

“I’m okay, I just..” You release a breath when he starts rubbing your shoulders and neck, making your eyes almost shut close. “.. I fell asleep on the couch last night.”

He gasps and clicks his tongue. “You shouldn’t have, that’s why your neck feels all tense.” He climbs up on the couch and wedges himself in between your back and the back of the couch, making you sit between his legs, he collects your hair away from your neck and pulls it to the side. “I was just thinking, that maybe you hand me what you have against him, maybe I could show it to someone without having to post it.”

“Taehyung wanted to post it, maybe we could grant his wish.” Your tongue feels heavy as you speak when he keeps rubbing all your knots, and right after rubbing each one he presses a kiss onto your skin. “Don’t just give him what he wants on a silver platter.” He argues, running his fingers down your covered back, “How did you manage to get your evidence?”

His fingers trace your spine and stop right by the hook of your bra, he leans his chin onto your shoulder and you can feel his breath right by your neck which sends goosebumps all over your body. “I got access to his folders when we spent our last night together.”

“On his iPad?” And you nod right away, he feigns a little giggle before he presses another soft kiss onto your neck, one of his hands running down your thigh. “Gosh have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This feels a little forbidden to you specially after all you’ve been through with Taehyung, you’re aware that you shouldn’t repeat your mistakes. “Thank you.” You’re about to get up from your seat but he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck. “No please stay.”

“Jungkook this doesn’t feel right.” You whisper as if you’re worried someone might hear you. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since we spent that night together, I kept thinking how much I’d like to have you just for myself.”

And in one quick movement he slides his hand into your shorts and panties to run it over your cunt, ever so gently rubbing your sensitive bud while kissing your shoulder and whispering. “I dreamt about how this cunt would wrap around my dick and take it so well.”

You tried resisting letting out any noise but your body seems to give in even when this feels absolutely wrong, Jungkook has a different touch than Taehyung, his is more gentle and softer, and he could easily give any girl the placebo effect that he adores her even when he’s just touching her to prep her for what’s coming next, while Taehyung was more explicit, his touch was tougher and stronger onto your skin.

“So is it on your phone?”

Something smells fishy to you at this exact second, you open your eyes and clear your throat, it takes you a second to answer. “No, it’s on one of his cameras.”

“So you have it?” He asks.

Could he possibly be here just to set you up? Hundreds of thoughts are all up in your head when you’re trying to figure out what’s the matter, Jungkook isn’t like Taehyung, he can’t be.

You can easily test the theory you have in your head, you’ve already copied the file on your phone so you can easily hand him the camera and still you’ll be one step ahead of him.

“Yeah, but I trust you Kook, you know that right.” You turn your head to look at him and your noses hit, you’re about to pull back but he pulls you in and dares to steal a quick peck from your lips. “You can trust me.”

He notices how different your body language suddenly got which makes him force a laugh. “Friends kiss like all the time, and we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah sure.” You get up and rush inside your bedroom, Jungkook quickly takes his phone out and sends a voice message to someone, you figure it’s Taehyung when Jungkook speaks. “Consider it done.”

Of course.

Taehyung never had to think and list his priorities regarding this because it basically never backfired, his brain doesn’t function like other people and he’s extremely selfish, he’s willing to do anything just to save himself even if he had to hurt someone. You’re basically a threat to him right now.

He recalls what Jungkook sent him an hour ago, consider it done? Which means you really have something that could ruin his career? Like what? He doesn’t recall you taking any pictures or having any of the clips he filmed, Fuck, Taehyung. Think.

He throws himself down on the nearest chair and buries his face into his palms, the man has an excellent memory, so he tries to recall the nights you two were together, you could’ve possible hid your phone behind something like he does, or you could’ve stolen the date on his iPad or perhaps one of the cameras.

The cameras, his bag of cameras is in the building hidden in one of the lockers, he rushes up from his seat and takes the elevator up to the lockers. And after looking around left and right making sure he’s not spotted by anyone, he fishes out his keychain and unlocks the metal doors of the locker, he takes out the handbag and when the bag keeps being shuffled in his hand, the cameras are clearly heard being mixed into each other.

He puts it down onto the floor and gets onto his knees, how can he make sure that all the cameras are in there when he doesn’t know how many he has in the first place?  But this doesn’t stop him, when it comes to his own benefit he’s willing to do anything, he could try and dig out for the receipts when he bought them but this goes back to years ago, and he uses his cards all the time so it was nearly impossible to find the receipts.

Okay scratch that. He shakes his own head and proceeds to count the cameras, he opens each and every one of the cameras and he finally realizes, that the content from the other night you two spent together doesn’t exist on any of the cameras.

And that night he recalls pressing the record button after his stupid mistake he made when he spent  the night with Jungkook and you, plus he was sober. Could you possibly have one of the cameras?

“Hyung, I got the camera.” Jungkook barges in to the locker room with a tiny go pro sitting in his hand, and finally Taehyung feels a little relieved, totally oblivious that you were able to copy the folders more than once.

“Thank fucking god.” He releases a sigh and grabs the camera from Jungkook and opens it, the folders are still there which makes him a little too sure that you’re no longer able to do anything.

“Please use it wisely, and don’t fuck things up.” The youngest is relieved as well and he leaves the locker room knowing that he’s safe too. Taehyung turns the camera off and shoves it back into the handbag and locks it inside.

Monday morning felt so off for you, you woke feeling nauseated and exhausted, you barely got any sleep the night before and you feel like you’ve reached your dead end. Things can’t get worse than they actually are.

You’re going to try talking to Taehyung like the adult you are for one last time, hoping that he’d go sane or perhaps understand and change his mind, well practically you weren’t too hopeful but of course you’re willing to give it a try.

“Morning!” It makes you flinch at how cheered up Jungkook sounds, you scoff on the inside and fake a smile behind your face mask. “Morning.”

“How are you today?” He puts his bag down and takes his seat. “I’m doing pretty well thanks for asking.” And you walk past him to your destination, mumbling under your mask. “Fucking hypocrite.”

You actually thought this man could be different, but he’s just like his friend, willing to drown anyone just so he can survive.

You reach the makeup station and you roll your eyes when you see Taehyung already seated, they were pre recording something today so you rush yourself and get to work. “Good morning.” He looks at you through the mirror and you answer right away. “Taehyung we need to talk.”

Even when it’s the beginning of the week, the styling room was empty only him and you left alone inside, you had to have a chat with him, he’s a little taken back to see you behaving agitatedly when it’s still morning time, but he can easily guess what you’re about to say.

“Alright.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and closes the door shut before moving back to his seat “What’s up? Why are you being all weird?”

“We need to talk.” Your worried expressions don’t even trigger his fight or flight and he couldn’t care less on why you look so agitated. “Yeah, you stated that earlier, what do you want?”

“I think we should both go on separate ways, we both have a career we should focus on and I think it’s not worth losing it for the stupid thing we did, we both can’t lose what we worked hard on. Now I know you’re not going to post anything and neither will i—“

He high key rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Y/N, sweetheart, If anyone is going to lose anything then it’s going to be you, I can’t lose anything. Look, I don’t know why it seems so difficult for you to understand, but you just have to do what I say, and when I call you to spend the night you just come over and that’s it. Doesn’t sound too hard does it? We can make each other feel good.” He makes it sound so easy, but what he doesn’t know is how your self worth is long gone when you’re left on the floor in the middle of his hotel room all soiled and sore and worn out, he doesn’t understand what it feels like to be actually called by him and having to be there because you were forced, just to have him pleased and satisfied, it never mattered to him how you felt, he only thought about himself the entire time.

You too agreed it was sex only and this is a sealed deal, but every time he kissed you and made you feel good, it was his twisted way of making himself feel good, every time he fucked you or went down on you, it was just for himself, he felt good doing it, it didn’t matter how you felt. And even if he eventually found out you faked a performance the last time it wouldn’t probably matter to him, at least it made him feel good and he was left satisfied.

“No.” You give him a solid answer. “Don’t expect anything from me anymore, I’m not willing to give you what you need and I believe you already know other people who can give you the exact same thing, but I can’t anymore.”

“I’m quite sure I already told you, your family and coworkers won’t be happy when they see the clip—“

“Save it Tae, I’m not scared,” You cross your arms too. “Whatever happened between us was a stupid mistake. I wish you can really see how I feel about you, because Taehyung, really, I pity you, and I think you truly need help, there’s nothing half appealing about you anymore, actually it’s the exact opposite, to me you’re someone that being with was just a waste of time, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed my time when I’m with you.”

It hurts his ego for you to tell him this even when he tries to deny it in his head that you mean it, he thinks you’re just saying this to piss him off and just belittle him. He grits his teeth again and you can see his temples growing bigger with each time his jaw tightens, he tilts his head before squinting his eyes. “I know you’re just doing this out of spite, but I don’t have to remind you and show you the video where you literally begged me to fuck you.”

“Again Tae, save it really, I’m watching every move you make, and if you’re going to post the videos just do it, I don’t care anymore, but I want you to know that I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

When normal people feel threatened they’d actually do something to protect themselves even if they had to fake an entire brave persona when they could nearly shit their pants, and that was the normal behavior for someone like you, but Taehyung’s career is jeopardized right before his eyes and he’s standing still with a straight face not even blinking, totally careless about everything you’re saying.

It doesn’t take you twenty minutes to finish working on his face, it felt like twenty hours with all the tension in the room, and whenever someone walks in they’d either question on why the door was closed on you two, or questioning what’s wrong when they can easily sense the electrocuted atmosphere in the tiny room.

Once you’re over you and Taehyung get back to the practice room to start filming whatever they had to film and you take a seat, you clearly see Taehyung and Jungkook talking in the corner and you know it’s about you when Jungkook tries to avoid looking into your eyes.

“Did you give him the camera?” Your voice rings across the practice room, you stand behind them, Jungkook crossing his arms and facing you fully.

“Who do you think you are?” Taehyung gets defensive as he walks towards you with a smirk on his face, “I knew about the camera all along, Y/N, I’m not that stupid, I know that you stole it.”

You have nothing to lose anymore so you giggle and nod. “Mhm, yeah, I’m pretty sure your friend retrieved it back for you.”

“I’ll give it back and you can consider this a gift, you can keep it, and to prove to you that I’m not afraid, I’m willing to show your videos to everyone.” He takes another step closer, his scent that you personally find repelling is wafting up your nose. “Let them see how much of a great performer you are.”

“Maybe they can see their favorite idol performing too.” You challenge him. After all you still don’t want anything to be posted for your own sake too. “I’ve got nothing to lose Taehyung, but you have everything to lose.”

And in a blink of an eye, the sore loser closes the space between you two and grabs you by the wrist tightly right in front of everyone, and with his tightened jaw and reddening face he whispers. “You have nothing to prove sweetheart, and you’re wrong. I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook stands between you two and tries his best to push his friend away, but the firm grip was really tight around your wrist to the point of hurting you. “Get away from me.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this.” Jungkook who’s shielding you looks behind his shoulder. “Let us discuss this like adults.”

“Oh fuck off you’re no different than him.” You glare at Jungkook still trying to escape Taehyung’s grip.

Taehyung isn’t doing his best right now and his brain was completely fogged by hatred, he’s now positive you’re hiding other things from him and he’s getting furious by the second, he’s getting the taste of his own medicine.

Around the practice room there were several people who are now watching Taehyung’s behavior that they’re not so familiar with. “Prove it, show me what you have against me.” And his grip is getting tighter and he’s being louder than before.

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook seems embarrassed by Taehyung’s behavior.

They’re usually so secretive about their personal lives and their staff aren’t used to seeing them being like this, they always tried so hard to isolate their lives and their personal problems but right now it’s a show for everyone to see.

Your heart races and through the rush of adrenaline you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. “Looks like you are afraid after all.”

“I’ll fucking end you, Y/N.”

“Not before I end you,  Kim Taehyung.” And finally you click post.

“Y/N, don’t—“ Jungkook tries and his attempt ends up failing.

The entire media is finally out for everyone to see, this is your only way to get your revenge at him.

People can now see how Taehyung degrades women in bed and humiliates them using his sick and twisted ways, they can finally see the true man he is. And not only you published the clips you had in your hand, you also managed to dig into the folders of your phone and find the nudes he sent you back during the tour, and it’s quite obvious that it’s him, It’s Kim Taehyung in the photos and in the videos.

Taehyung never saw this coming, he always thought he had control, he never imagined that he’d taste his own medicine this way. Not only did you show people his true personality, you managed to do something to the career he never thought he could damage or even lose.

Around the practice room the atmosphere was quite tense and stressed, but around the building people were going insane, continuous calls and paper work trying to do anything to hide this or even deny it, the headquarters are in shock knowing that the idol they trained and known since he was a young kid grew up to be this kind of person. They gave him everything he wanted, why in hell is this happening?

The social media has gone crazy and people are reposting and the post has now gone viral to everyone, it sucks that even with evidence people seem to still defend him, people are still trying hard to prove that this isn’t their idol, this can’t be their idol, but it is.

The image he painted for his fans is ruined by every second longer your post stays up, and frankly there’s not an ounce of regret inside you, this person deserves it, goodness he even deserves worse.

Back in the practice room it’s as if time froze, everyone’s phones started beeping and buzzing texts and calling, and monotonously they all pick up their phones and manage to read the news, whether it’s emails or even relatives asking if it was true? Some even having their families calling to tell them to get away and quit their jobs.

Girls around the practice room who’ve been in your place somehow feel relieved that it’s not only them, the man they despised finally got the end he deserved.

“You should’ve thought about this before you started it Taehyung.” You try to escape his grip but it only tightens, you look him up in the eyes and he dares to smirk even when his career is almost over. “Don’t come crying later, Y/N.” And he finally takes his hands off of you to leave the practice room, you look around the practice room to see everyone watching you with terrified faces.

You convince yourself that you shouldn’t panic, but you’re slowly starting to, it’s quite a fine line between regret and panic right now and you can’t identify which one is it.

“You must have lost your mind.” Jungkook finally faces you. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Oh how I wish the night I spent with you was caught on camera, I would’ve ended you in fucking seconds Jeon Jungkook.” Your chest is heaving and your heart is pounding, it feels like you were running for miles, and as much as you tried having respect and self control to not slap him in the face, you couldn’t. “Just fuck off Jungkook, turns out you’re exactly like him.” His eyes meet yours for one last time before he turns his back and leaves the practice room.

“What have you done, Y/N?” Mira asks, you clear your throat and try to talk but nothing seems to be able to escape your mouth, you’re sweating and stuttering hoping you’d come up with some sort of sentence but zero.

You knew it could backfire to you but you never thought how it would, you’re practically alone in Seoul and you have no one to stand with you, it’s basically you, against Taehyung and the entire world. Even the girls who were hurt by him, they never thought it would get serious, and most of them are now worried, what if the videos they were in got published? They’d be in trouble too.

You’re having second thoughts, you probably should’ve given up and just let him do whatever he wants, maybe you shouldn’t have sought for revenge, But he wronged you, of course you have to seek for revenge, he deserves it.

Fuck, you’re looking around, the girls are no longer satisfied with what you did, they look like they hold grudge against you now, but you practically helped them.

Could you possibly be the only one wrong? Could they be right? It’s getting complicated by the second.

“Y/n?” Their manager enters the practice room and you hold your breath, you can feel your heart beating against your back and pounding into your chest. “They want you upstairs.”

-

 It’s been almost four hours around the meeting table and you’ve never seen anything like this, it’s too much paperwork for you and people are talking endlessly, you’re too lost to keep track of what they’re saying, but it seems like they’re talking about lawyers and lawsuits.

Even when you can barely process what they’re saying, still you were able to “try” and defend yourself, but they did end up taking down the post.

Your train of thoughts is interrupted by a stack of papers landing in front of you. “Sign those.”

“What’s that?”

“Your resignation papers. You no longer work here.”

“But he deserves to be punished too, I was forced to sleep him just like the other girls were forced too.” you try to deny but it’s a lost cause at this point. They were all seeking for his protection, after all he matters way more than you do.

“Just sign it Y/N.” They hand you a pen and you end up signing anyway. Apparently this is your only way to end everything, this blackmail was the worst thing that ever happened to you, but even when it costs your job, you still were able to show Taehyung’s true colors to the world.

It’s getting suffocating around the meeting room  so you rush things to get over with and just leave, the world feels so small around you and you’ve never felt like this, it sucks big time that the career you actually imagined staying in is now completely over. You can’t deny that you wish none of this happened, you regret it a little now.

You collect your bag and leave the meeting room, you have so many things around the building that you need to collect that belong to you so you rush upstairs to the dressing rooms and pack your stuff, and you can’t not notice every set of eyes that’s been watching you pack quietly for the next 20 minutes, it does make you tense a little so you look up to meet their eyes. “I know what you’re all thinking.”

You’re looked at in pure pity and it hurts to your core, the other week people respected you and enjoyed your company but today they’re all afraid to even talk, it hurts that the girls you enjoyed working with stare at you like that which makes you sulk. “I did this all for you, for us, I did what you girls never dared to do.”

You sigh when they turn their heads away and move on with their day and you finish collecting your stuff, it’s all over now.

Right when you’re about to turn and leave the dressing room, you feel a hand wrapping around your wrist so you turn to see Luna, who’s looking at you with the same look of pity, her mouth slightly opens before she sighs in frustration. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Luna I—“

“Before you say anything, have you seen the media?”

“Yeah, I know, and I did it on purpose, he was after all of us.” You argue, she tilts her head and argues back. “What are you talking about? It’s all denied, Taehyung is innocent.” You feel your eyelids getting heavier, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of cold water all over your shoulders and back.

You’re in denial that your entire body stops functioning, your head is shaking left and right subconsciously. “No.”

But she was right.

You lost your job for nothing, and honestly what were you expecting? Kim Taehyung is considered an international icon, of course they’d think you’re making rumors. Once your post was published it was taken down in less than ten minutes, and if you even bothered to pick up your phone and scroll through the media, it’s like nothing happened.

People are totally unbothered and it drives you insane, no one even reposted anything or tried to look through the evidence you posted, they’re all on his side even if they saw everything right before their eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N, you should’ve thought this through.” It’s the same look of pity on her face. “He’s Kim Taehyung, he has people for everything.”

-

You had to wait a couple of minutes by the elevator door hoping that it’d stop any time soon, the box you were carrying was extremely heavy, you feel your arms and fingers cramping and you’re no longer able to hold the box,  your body is barely able to hold its own weight so you cannot wait to get home.

Just when the elevator doors open and you step in you drop the box and all your stuff splatter on the floor, you fall onto your knees and begin collecting your stuff back onto the box, the elevator doors got too impatient and they immediately closed and you forgot to press the button to the ground floor, and you don’t realize that until you’re half way through the box and it feels like the elevator is not moving.

You’re about to get up onto your feet to click the button but the doors open on their own, and fucking Kim Taehyung enters the elevator. He’s the last person you’d want to see right now.

The first couple of seconds are completely silent but you can feel his eyes on you when he sees you down onto your knees, he puts his hands into his pockets and clicks the button down to the parking lot before the elevator doors close again.

He laughs quietly and watches you for a second before deciding to spit out words that remind you that you shouldn’t feel guilty at all. “Didn’t expect to see on your knees this soon.”

You brace yourself and bite your own tongue to avoid talking back to him because really you’re seconds away from beating him up.

“You know Y/N, I really admire how brave you are.” He starts and you roll your eyes, collecting the last few items and putting them into the box, before getting back up onto your feet. “I know you don’t believe me but I truly do.”

You look up hoping the numbers would go down faster because you can’t tolerate a second longer with him.  “You know what’s the difference between you and me?”

This time he turns to face you and takes a step closer, tugging your hair behind your ear and inhaling your scent for the last time. “You and I are both sluts, but the only thing different between me and you is that I have someone to cover up for me and clean up shit after me, and you don’t.”

You turn and finally face him again with denial, he can’t be a true human being with a heart, you’ve never seen someone like this man, you had a little faith in him that he might actually be nice after all, you thought he’d been taught a lesson after all this that happened but no, he’s both careless and heartless it shocks you.

“You thought you’d win, I feel kinda bad for you.” He sighs, “I warned you, I’ll always be one step ahead of you Y/N.”

This is Kim Taehyung.

The one you met years ago no longer exists, the new whole different version of him now exists and he feels like a fucking epidemic. And even when you lost your job, and the future you had planned for is now long gone too, at least you’re no longer around him.

And even when you couldn’t make justice with your story, someone else will and they’ll get him eventually.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

been laid up all week cuz of the weather change but its not so bad cuz it led me to your disabled reader polycule fics and i love them so much!!! much love to you <33

Waiting rooms were hell in any universe, Logan discovered. Even if he knew that you were fine, mostly. And there was nothing life-threatening behind the door.

He knew you were still suffering.

Sort of.

Even if it was mostly mental. You were annoyed about having to do this again. Physical therapy and doing the whole "figuring out what's wrong now" circuit after you'd been doing well for a while.

Physical therapy left you feeling drained, raw, and irritable. Doing the same exercises. Working the same steps. Being told the same things you'd been hearing since you were a kid.

When you come out, Logan stood, crossing the floor and proffering the jacket you left with him. "Are you thirsty? Wanna go get something?"

"Just- yeah," you murmur, wincing slightly as you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, "that sounds good."

"Then let's get out of here, bub," he said, taking the appointment card out of your hand and putting your jacket around your shoulders.

You nod and let him take your hand, leading you out of the office. You rub your shoulder with your free hand and sigh, "This blows."

"Sore?" Logan hummed.

"A little-"

"So you'd like to rip your spine out and beat someone to death with it," he confirmed.

"Yeah."

"I'll put you on ice when we get home. And have Wade pick up dinner."

"I can cook," you yawn, "We have stuff-"

"Eh. We'll see how you feel when it comes time to get off the couch."

[mamma-marimo]

A Secret in the Night

A/N: Turns out I am not immune to this silly dragoon. Call him Nidhogg the way he keep trying to possess me <33 this is my first time writing him so fingers crossed he isn't too ooc

Summary: Thancred Waters finds something unexpected upon returning to the Rising Stones after a long mission and it's not you baking at 3 in the morning.

WC: 1k

Rating: E

Pairing: (GN)Reader x Estinien

Tags: fluff, wholesome goodness, Thancred Waters jumpscare

It’s in the Witching hour Thancred returns to the Rising Stones from yet another stealth mission. His shoulders sag and his feet sore from the endless tracking he’s just accomplished. With most of the scions aside from the small handful on night watch turned in for the night, he decides the report is more than fine to turn in come morning. 

With a sigh, he rubs the back of his sore neck mentally debating on if he should take a shower or just crawl into bed. While it’s never appealing to lie in a clean bed with mission musk, his exhaustion does bring up a concern of passing out the moment he’s encompassed in the comforting warm water.  

His thoughts are interrupted when a fragrant sweet scent welcomes him, activating a low growl in his stomach. He supposed there’s nothing wrong with grabbing a quick bite from the communal kitchen before crashing for the night. As he furthers his journey down the hall he notices one of the lights on within the kitchen. 

There is a sneaking suspicion as to what soul would be up at this damned hour baking something and the

laughter that echoed confirmed it. 

“They better not be stress-baking again…” he sighs to himself, praying he’ll be intervening in time to avoid a repeat of the last incident. While delicious, it took forever to get through all of it and Tataru wasn’t too pleased with exceeding the grocery budget. Not to mention how long it took to work off the damage the carbs did to his seductive figure. His pace quickens. One step, two step and then-

“Quiet. You are going to wake up all of Mor Dhona at this rate.” A familiar gruff, brooding tone chastises. 

“Sorry-“ he hears you giggle. “You’re just really funny, you know?”

Thancred’s brows furrow. Estinien was a man of many things, sure but funny? Not intentionally at least. Well, you can be quite odd so your amusement in odd things should be of no surprise. 

He retracts his pace, slowing down as he quietly treads closer and closer to the kitchen. 

“In what ways do I amuse you?” Estinien inquires. 

Thancred has his back against the wall near the entry. Pausing for a moment he’s relieved to not hear any sounds that could allude to something lewd being committed. Praise Hydaelyn for that. However, his keen sense of hearing picks up the soft sound of steps along the tiles. 

Carefully, he leans in peeking around the corner and into the open doorway. 

Estiniens back is to him, an arm wrapped around your waist and the other elevated, fingers interlocked with yours. Their bodies sway in sync left to right according to a rhythm all their own. 

Pale brows arch up and Thancred withdraws, blinking a few times then rubs his eyes. Normally it would take a few more days of sleep deprivation to make him this level of delirious. Was he seeing things? He isn’t old enough to need glasses just yet, right? 

Once more he peaks over, Estinien now hovers as he dips his dance partner. 

“Oh a lot of ways!” You chime.

“I like your little pout, that little huff you do when we try dragging you into things and– now that I think about it. You remind me of an old dog. A cute little thing that sighs now and then a bit sadly. Makes you wonder what goes through their little minds to make them so tired.” You chuckle, peering up at the Elezen with a sickening amount of affection.  

Estinien scoffs and Thancred can feel his eyes roll. Briefly, he withdraws the hand that supports your back. 

“H-hey!” You gasp, quickly clutching onto Estinien’s back for support to avoid hitting the ground but his hand returns, guiding you upwards to the standing position prior. 

“It is quite exhausting keeping up with your antics. You handful of Scions are more taxing than a squadron of untrained Dragoons.” He retorts, turning them around. your back now facing the voyeur. Your body leans against Estiniens with your head nestled against his chest. 

“In my defense, half the antics are Alisaie and Alphinaud getting ahead of themselves. Although, you can get pretty ahead of yourself too Mr. Lone Wolf.” You retort and Thancred can see a rare smile gracing the Elezens elegant features. 

“I dare say your boldness has influenced a great many men. Including myself but especially the younger ones.” His head rests against you own. For a moment it remains like this. Calm gentle sways like a graceful tide grazing along the shore.

DING!

The timer on the counter chimes, bringing the dancers out of their rhythm. Thancred pulls away, having seen more than enough. With a shake of his head, he feels a strange pit of embarrassed guilt in his stomach for peering in on such an intimate moment. Hell, he feels it would have been less embarrassing to walk in on them in the nude. Either way, snack be damned. He’ll be sure to enjoy whatever was baked come morning with its flavor made even sweeter with the image of their brooding Dragoon being so docile.

“Ah, the bread is done.” You break from the embrace, grabbing a pair of moogle themed oven mitts to pull it out of the oven. 

Estinien resumes his typical stance, arms crossed over his chest. His head turned to the entrance, and eyes narrowed. 

“Something the matter?” You tilt you head at him, glancing between the empty entryway then back.

With a scrunch of his nose he shakes his head. “No. If we are done here, let us head to bed.”

“Alrighty. I just need to put this up.” You set it in the breadbox and return to him. 

“Thank you for keeping me company.” You lean in to peck his cheek. “I never knew you would be such a lovely dance partner.”

“As I said. Any Ishgardian worth their salt knows the basics. However, I prefer not to do so in front of others. I will say, you are improving at the very least. You only stepped on my foot twice unlike dozens of times in the past.” There’s a soft smirk along his thin lips, bracing your reaction.

[russellshaws]

Chenford + “Did you get my note?” / “Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.”

“Did you get my note?” Lucy’s voice is frantic through the crackling phone line, her movements audible and near-constant as Tim holds the crumpled up neon purple post-it in his hand. Her scrawl is even frenzied, the loop of her L rushing off the corner of the tiny square of paper.

Call me when you wake up! PS – don't even think about touching my leftovers. ♡ L

He scans over at again, rubbing his eyes as he listens to her sharp breathing, something dragging along the ground as she walks. "Yeah," he manages, his voice thick with sleep. "Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping."

"It's a post-it, Tim," she says, matter of fact. "It doesn't need to be taped."

Tim laughs, rolling his eyes. "What are you doing right now?"

"Unimportant," she breathes into the phone, then pauses. "Hold on one second, I need to put you down."

He nods, knowing she won't wait for his answer to drop the phone on the nearest surface. Instead, he sets the post-it note down on his nightstand and presses it flat with his palm, then gets up out of bed and puts the phone on speaker. He's sore, but that's nothing new these days. Metro puts a strain on his body that Patrol never has, but the ache in his muscles is well worth it. Even through the pain, he stretches his arms over his head and rolls out his shoulders, then quickly makes the bed while Lucy clunks something loudly through the phone line.

Tim's putting toothpaste on his toothbrush when Lucy returns to the phone, a little more breathless than before. "Are you brushing your teeth?"

"Almost," he chuckles, running the brush under the faucet and then turning off the tap. He glances at himself in the mirror, wincing at the bruise he's got on his shoulder – he'd taken a suspect down yesterday at the wrong angle, and he figured he would be paying for it, but it looks shittier than he imagined it would. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she laughs, and suddenly the noise dissipates. "How'd you sleep? You were tossing and turning all over the place when I was getting ready."

Tim hums, taking a slow breath and letting her voice – now calmer – wash over him for a moment. Some of the tension in his back loosens and he shrugs his good shoulder, tapping his toothbrush lightly on the edge of the sink. "Alright. I woke up a handful of times because I kept hitting my shoulder, but otherwise, can't complain. You're a good bedfellow."

"I'm sorry," Lucy snorts, and he grins at the sound of her laughter. "Did you just call me a bedfellow?"

"You're not here to do anything about it," he chuckles, then glances down at his wet toothbrush, frowning. "So, you going to tell me what you're up to so I can brush my teeth?"

"You know what? Go ahead," she sounds smug and he doesn't bother questioning it, just gets to work brushing, knowing she'll continue on. "It's probably better if you don't have the ability to argue."

"But you love it when I argue with you," he says, his mouth full.

"Gross," Lucy hums, and he can hear the smile on her face. "I'm at my storage unit, right now."

He furrows his brow at himself in the mirror. "Huh?"

"My storage unit. You know, where you-," Tim grumbles, cutting her off, and Lucy laughs again, this time sweeter. "You looked like you were in pain when I woke up, and you flinched away when I brushed my hand over your shoulder...so I figured you could use some help."

He spits into the sink, ignoring the fact that he has toothpaste on the corners of his mouth. "So you're going through, what – your old psychology notes? Boxes of stuff from your parents house?" He barks out a low laugh, shaking his head. "I hate to break it to you, Lucy, but we can't exactly analyze a bruise."

"Ha ha," Lucy deadpans, and he hears her moving again as he puts the toothbrush back into his mouth. "I was looking to see if I kept any of my stuff from the massage therapy class I took." He nearly chokes. Lucy snorts into the phone. "Can you not hurt yourself, please? I don't want this trip to have been for nothing." Tim hums in response and he likes that he can tell she's smiling. "I found the portable table, but I might've gotten rid of some of the oils I had – so we're one for two."

"Oils?" The word comes out garbled, but it's close enough.

"Oils and balms and lotions," she mumbles, then laughs softly into his ear, "oh my."

"Cute," he chuckles, then puts the phone on mute as he spits into the sink again and rinses his mouth out with water from the tap. "Let me get this straight – you hopped up out of bed and went directly to your storage unit to get a massage table for me?"

"Now he's getting the picture," she breathes, and he feels his chest tighten. "We're both off today – I want you in better shape than you're in right now."

"Oh, yeah?" Tim leans back agains the doorframe, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he glances down at the phone on the countertop. "For what?"

Lucy hums softly and he swallows, nodding. "I can't just want my boyfriend to be pain-free?"

He chuckles, reaching up and scratching at the back of his neck, unable to contain his smile at her words. "You know what? For that, I won't eat your leftovers."

Lucy scoffs into the phone and Tim grabs it up off the counter, making his way back into the bedroom to try and figure out where, exactly, they're putting a massage table.

[marydswitchduet]

Chastity Log Day 15

7/28

What Did We Do?

I had a rare day off but mommy still had to work. SO we didn't have much fun til later in the afternoon. But, it was still a LOT of fun.

Mommy wanted to make sure she looked her best, and I agreed, so we both showered and I shaved her legs, my legs, her kitty, and my little dicky.

I have a deep fetish and attraction for shaving, especially shaving genitals. It's so intimate, personal, and meticulous. I enjoyed rubbing the shaving cream up mommy's legs, which I did first. It went smoothly, and I loved feeling my hands up to mommy's kitty, which she slapped away.

I later went and shaved mommy's kitty. I mostly used electric shavers for that so we didn't have to worry about cuts. Once mommy's kitty was shaved, it looked good enough to eat.

Later, Mommy instructed me to go strip and shave as well. I had to shave essentially all below my waist. I've been shaving my diaper area, front, back and sides, for the last week or two I've been in chastity. Idk about anyone else, but it's HOT, HOT, HOT and humid. Even small day trips and errands padded can be very sweaty, sorry for the details lol.

Needless to say, I thought it would help with both sweat, smell, and friction. It seemed to be more helpful, especially using baby powder when it's humid too, GODSEND!

Either way, I shaved up, down, and sideways and was smooth an adult baby's bottom.

I went back and mommy diapered and powder me up. It was nice and felt myself slipping into space. Some of my night gets a little hazy, some 420 service to help slip into little space and just relax.

One of the moments I recall is mommy using my little dicky for her entertainment and, I think, trying to get me to make cummies to I'd be stuck in chastity longer. But I didn't so YAY, but also boo. Mommy only lets me make ruined cummies, which drains my little ballies but don't make me feel good...well as good. Mommy mentions whenever that happens that I may need a chastity cage more and more. After she used me, she diapered me back up and turned me over.

Next major thing I remember was mommy spanking me repeatedly. This was punishment for my creamies without permission. First mommy made light slaps to my padded bottom. They hurt, but I was okay. Then, gradually, she started to hit harder. Mommy mentioned afterward her tip was that she had to cup her hand.

My diapee offered me some protection. At first, mommy weas okay with my making little noises. But, later she got meaner and started smacking me harder and harder until I yelled what she wanted. I yelled what the 3 closing slaps were for.

Each one was for a time I made cummies without permission and when. At the end, mommy told me I had to be in little chastity for a month. MEEP.

I guess this may mean no fun grown up stuff at all, but I'm not sure. Mommy said once we figure a few things out, a cage is definitely in the works for me.

Mommy finished spanking me when she smacked me so hard I was trying to crawl away on the bed only to be smacked again and collapse.

I had to keep mentioning I'm a dirty boy, I think? If so, I think I could use something else to say. Maybe it's just to brat in me but I got bored.

How did it feel?

Humiliated, but cathartic release of sorts. Fresh n clean after shaving. Slightly proud as mommy said I did a good job

How are you feeling? Ball-Wise?

Better from being emptied but still sore as if they are still as full as my complete chastity

What I want more/less of in current dynamic?

More: Confirmation of what we're doing before we formally get started. Earlier in the night, we'd discussed having an SFW night where I was gonna get dipped and we were gonna sit on the couch and watch movies. Sounded nice.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed our NSFW antics we had above. I just think in one part of my brain I had one version of my little space that's more "childish" or "innocent" or sorts. But, then the erotic events switched my gears.

I am writing this more as a reflection to remind myself that I just want to bring those things up sooner. I meant to discuss this after our session was over, but I think we were both extremely satisfied and exhausted so even if I had thought of it, I doubt I could've said the words at all.

I would just enjoy those little space moments where it doesn't need to be sexy is all. Something I'm sure we'll figure out a way balance as well.

Things I’m enjoying

Spanking more than I thought I would. Likely because it's in a different context and even though I know it's because I'm in trouble I know there's no formal malice. Or the malice lives and dies in this space, and we both know that. My little self will be scared, my big self knows this is not going to last forever and I can keep going even beyond the point of breaking.

[sam-and-dean-codependency]

Fever

Relationship(s): Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Tags/Warnings: Munchausen's by proxy, Sickfic, Sick Sam Winchester, Hex bags, Magic Sickness

Summary: Sam has been sick for weeks and he can't figure out why. Good thing Dean is there to take care of him.

Written for @whumptober Day 2: Thermometer

--------

Sam groaned and leaned over his sick bucket for another round of dry heaving.

He’d been sick for what felt like ages. It started with the flu, but once he started feeling better from that he caught some kind of stomach bug. Then he got something with a high fever. And now, he was stuck with whatever this was. He’d think it was another stomach bug except he hadn’t eaten anything but soup and crackers since this all started. It was like his immune system just went on vacation a few months ago.

He wished he knew what was wrong. He wanted to get better. He wanted to be able to leave his bed for more than a day and get back to work. Dean would never say it, but Sam knew he must be tired of taking care of him all the time. He must be just aching to get out and hunt or even just go to a bar for the night. Instead, he was stuck taking care of his sick little brother.

He groaned and hacked up more bile into the bucket.

“Throwin’ up again, Sammy?” Sam heard Dean pad into the room and slumped in relief. Dean’s cool hand felt his forehead and he pushed Sam back onto the bed. “Fever’s still going too. Any other symptoms I should know about?”

Sam thought then shook his head. “My throat isn’t sore anymore. That’s a plus.”

Dean hummed and stuck a thermometer in his mouth. “Still over a hundred. I wonder why it’s not going down….”

Sam felt another wave of nausea come up and tried to cough it down. “Maybe I’m not normal sick,” he muttered. “Maybe I got hit with a curse or somethin’....”

“Nope,” Dean said. “I already checked that. Asked Rowena too. Not even she found anything magicky about all this.”

“You did? When?”

“A few days ago. You were a little out of it; the fever was really high that day….”

Sam didn’t remember Rowena coming by. Of course, he wasn’t sure he remembered much of anything from that day. Except for throwing up maybe. “And she didn’t find anything weird?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. No curses, no hex bags, no lingering spells, no after effects of anything…. You just got a weird sickness.”

Sam groaned. “So, no easy cure. Just… sweat it out.”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. But, hey, you’re in good hands.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll take care of you until you’re all better. That’s my job, right?” He pet Sam’s shoulder. “I got you, little big man.”

Sam groaned and leaned over his sick bucket again. Dean rubbed his back in a soothing pattern until he’d emptied his guts. Again. How did he even have this much in him to throw up?

—--

Once Sam was sleeping with a cold compress and some “fever reducing syrup”, Dean quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked a bit. He smirked at the hex bag he’d collected from Sam’s room and used his lighter to burn it. No more nausea for Sammy. At least for now. Poor kid needed a break.

He went back to the kitchen to check on Sam’s next meal. Brown rice with a generous helping of cayenne. He could use a hex bag to keep the fever going if he really wanted but he liked the natural way of doing things. If Sam was still out of it later, he’d see about tricking Sam into a warm bath too.

Was it wrong of him to keep Sam sick like this for weeks? Sure, maybe. But so what? They’d saved the world so many times, they were probably still guaranteed a ticket upstairs no matter how much they sinned.

And maybe Dean wanted a little reward for all his hard work. Maybe Dean wanted to take a break from all the blood and gore and death and just have a little quality time with his brother. Sam would never rest or take a “we day” vacation for more than a few days- unless one of them was sick.

And Sam was just so damn soft when he was sick. Always calling out for Dean, all needy and clingy. Just like when he was little. Despite all the growing up he’s done since then, that was one habit he never managed to kick. Well, along with the bitch faces but those didn’t pop up when he was sick.

He whistled and declined yet another call from a hunter. He did feel a little bad about leaving other hunters high and dry. Maybe he’d give Sam a little break from the illness next week, just enough to get up and do some research- under Dean’s supervision, of course.

[topioswords]

Off Schedule

It isn’t really comfortable, but Noir still lets his head fall back against the worm-eaten edge of the bench with a discomforted sigh. 

“Do you want me to--” Zellus asks.

“No,” Noir interrupts, guessing at the offer. Sure, it probably would be more comfortable with a mushroom headrest, but it’d also be weird.

He’s had plenty of weird today, without adding questions about using something that could theoretically be considered flesh as furniture to it.

“I’m fine,” he says and waves a hand loosely in the general direction of Zellus. “I just need a moment. Anybody nearby?”

Noir can hear the shift as Zellus moves, or maybe he’s imagining that, but the amused tone is definitely there when they answer. “Aside from the fact I’m here, that depends on your definitions of ‘anybody’ and ‘nearby’.”

“Har har, very funny. Let’s not get into semantics or whatever, I’m too tired for that, it’s been a day. You know what I mean.”

“I do, and you needn’t worry. So. Troublesome customers?”

Noir grumbles softly. “I wish, I can handle troublesome, but this actually got bad enough I had to call in my weird stalker. And I dunno how to feel about that”

The shadows shift and Noir can hear the groan of the wood planking making up the bench’s backrest as Zellus leans against it at the end where his feet are awkwardly propped up. “Oh,” they say, and it’s a question if you squint at it.

Noir doesn’t open his eyes though, he rubs at his head instead with the arm not dangling off the side of the bench. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. He’s gonna be sore in the morning.

 “I guess I didn’t tell you about that, did I?” He says, reluctantly acknowledging the other part that made this a bad idea.

The answer he gets is still vaguely amused as far as he can tell. “There may have been hints, but not in so many words, no.”

“Sometimes I think I should just let you read my diary, save us some time.”

“You keep a diary?”

“No, not unless we count you.”

“In that case it sounds like you should make an entry.”

Noir turns his head to the right, rolling his eyes as he does finger quotes. “Dear diary, today my totally not dealer was sassy. Also I may have almost gotten murdered a little. Mood: quixotic”

He can see the way Zellus shifts their weight, a couple of small mushrooms falling to the ground as they rest their head against a hand, elbow resting on the backrest. “Do you even know what that means,” they ask, sounding amused.

He might have dodged a bullet there. “Absolutely not, I’m not even sure I pronounced it right.” Noir admits cheerfully.

Zellus hums a couple of notes in agreement. “Also, what’s that about nearly getting murdered.”

He was wrong about dodging anything. He should’ve known he wouldn’t get out of explaining that easily. He probably shouldn’t have brought it up. Noir sighs. “Yeah so, I did a kinda bad deal that turned out to be actually really bad, so I pulled out before delivering. They did not like that. At all. I guess they thought I was gonna tell, which… rude, I’m a professional.”

The good thing about Zellus is, they don’t prod for more information about jobs, even if this arguably wasn’t one anymore. He really thought he’d vetted these assholes, but not well enough it turned out. And sure, he essentially sold information but… not every kind. Some things shouldn’t be for sale.

“They got close, too close, and I dunno how. That’s the part I don’t like. So I kinda panicked and sent a message to the weirdo who’s been following me around the last couple of months cause, I dunno, I figured if anybody would know how to get somebody off my back it’d be the person who’s been stalking me? And like, I know you’re gonna say I should be worried about that - I am worried about that. But whatever they are, they’ve actually backed off when I told them to, which. It’s something right?”

He’s rambling, he knows he is, but Zellus has whatever passes as a thoughtful look for a moment, then it breaks into a grin.

“Noir, sweetheart, I sense some hesitation. Do you have a thing for your stalker?” Zellus says, jokingly.

“Oh yes, I am totally into the whole knockoff mothman look. Absolutely that’s what’s happening here.” He answers as straight faced as he can manage.

“Ah, mothman, like…” Zellus starts, letting the question trail off.

Noir shifts his shoulders, the closest he can get to a shrug while still lying down. “I didn’t ask, or look that closely, definitely a whole weird dark and wingy feel going on though.”

“That’s an unusual look,” Zellus says.

“Like I said, weird stalker. Figures I'd attract the weird kind of anything.”

“Rude,” Zellus responds, mock offended, flicking a small dried up mushroom at Noir’s face.

He laughs, and this whole thing feels… not so bad anymore.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Learn To Love Again - Chapter Nineteen: Anal

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary: You have a hard time letting go. Pietro helps you out. An exploration of kink with Pietro Maximoff. Each chapter from chapter 2 onwards will be a different kink.

Chapter Summary: You and Pietro make a deal.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3897

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

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Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for anal, anal fingering, rimming, general roughhousing (affectionately), hints at Pietro having PTSD, perhaps slightly insufficient prep but everything is super consensual

---

“I’ll let you fuck mine if you let me fuck yours.”

Pietro hadn’t really responded to that. You wrote it off as something he wasn’t interested in and continued to watch the sunset together, but he seemed pensive.

When the sun was fully up, you rolled out of his lap, getting to your feet and offering him a hand. He didn’t need it, but he let you pull him to his feet anyway.

You could feel his presence as you washed up the two mugs you’d been drinking tea from. He hovered beside you, looking as though he had something to say, but saying nothing.

You set the two, now clean, mugs on the side and wiped your hands, waiting for him to speak.

“Prinţesă-” he started, but cut himself off. You turned to him and leant back against the counter. His mouth moved with no sound, like he was chewing on his words before he spat them out.

“Is something wrong, Piet?”

He shook his head. “Not wrong, but… The thing you said, about… about…” He looked to you for help, but you weren’t about to give it. If Pietro wanted something, he could ask for it. “About… letting me fuck you in the ass if I let you… uh… fuck me in the ass.” His cheeks were bright pink. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so flustered.

“Yeah?”

“Were you… serious? Is that something you… want?”

“Well, it’s something I’d be interested in trying,” you said breezily. “Why? Do you want to?”

There was a long pause. His eyes were fixed on your face, studying your expression. Finally, he said, “Yes.”

A grin spread across your face. You crossed the distance between you until you were standing inches apart. You dragged a fingertip up his arm, watching his arm hairs stand up in response to your touch.

“Are you sure?” you asked in a low voice.

“Well… I want to try.”  

“Well, that’s what we’re all about it, isn’t it?” You pressed your hands to his chest, and then slowly slid them up towards his neck. “Trying new things? Figuring out what we like?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. “So who goes first?”

You grinned. “I’ll fight you for it.”

And that was how you found yourself face down in the sand, an arm carefully twisted behind your back as Pietro pinned you in place. You had been sparring for several minutes: probably the longest time that you and Pietro had ever gone without getting a pin. He had been ferocious and relentless, and you were struggling to keep up.

“One point to me,” he said, releasing you from his hold.

You rubbed your shoulder. Maybe doing this so soon after your little roleplay session was a bad idea. You were still stiff and sore.

Pietro held out his hand, and you let him pull you to your feet.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, turning your arm over so that he could inspect a bruise on your bicep. “Does this hurt?”

“A little.”

“We can always postpone this, if you-”

“No way.” You grinned at him. In truth, you weren’t all that fussed about winning or losing. You were both getting fucked in the ass whichever way the chips fell.

Still, Pietro clearly cared, and you wanted to make him sweat a little. You held out your hands, ready to grapple him, and he resumed his fighting stance.

This round was a little quicker. Maybe it was because Pietro felt a little more secure now that he had one win in the bag. Still, there was no way you were letting him beat you 2-0. Luckily, you had something up your sleeve.

It was a move that he’d never seen from you before. Nat had showed you how. You just hoped you pulled it off.

Your leg came up. You could see that Pietro thought you were going for a kick, and tried to block it with his arm, but he misjudged your attack.

Your knee hooked over his shoulder and you grabbed his arm, pulling it towards you. Using your hips for leverage, you straightened his arm and yanked it until it was almost hyperextended. Your entire bodyweight was hanging off his shoulder.

He let out a cry of pain and tapped out. You released him, falling back onto the sand. He paced, nursing his elbow, his teeth gritted.

You felt a jolt of anxiety. “Piet? Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You watched his expression. For a moment, you were sure he was about to lie to you, to save face, or to avoid showing vulnerability, but then he said, “Little bit.” He rolled his shoulder.

You got to your feet. “Come here.”

He regarded you for a moment. Then he closed the distance between you. You took his arm, pushing up the sleeve of his t-shirt so you could get to his shoulder. He seemed bemused, but then you kissed him there, feeling the hard muscle under your lips.

You bent his arm then, and pressed a kiss to his bicep too. Finally, you kissed the inside of his elbow.

“I see you’re using my treatment method,” he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you in closer.

“Well, it is FDA approved, Dr Maximoff,” you teased. “Did it work?”

“Of course. I’m much better.” He flexed his bicep to show you. You couldn’t resist giving it another kiss.

“Alright, final round.” You stepped away from him and readied yourself for another fight. He tackled you to the ground immediately, knocking a gasping laugh out of you.

The two of you wrestled, rolling around in the sand, but in the end, his strength and height advantage won out. He had you pinned, straddling your hips, one arm across your throat, although he wasn’t applying any pressure.

“Do you yield?” he whispered.

“Yes, I yield.”

“Good.” This time, he didn’t let you go. He just leant in and kissed you, slow and deep. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

As he started trailing kisses down your throat, you squirmed. “I’m not gonna be up for, uh, doing it tonight. I’m still sore from last night.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he said, lazily nibbling at your skin. For now, you let him.

*

The next day was a little colder. You tried sitting out on the beach to read, but the wind nipped at you, until you surrendered and went back inside.

Before you had even thought to ask, Pietro made you a hot chocolate. You drank it gratefully, sitting on the couch with your feet in his lap and a book in yours.

The sky got darker, although it was still fairly early. By the afternoon, a distant rumbling of thunder signalled a storm rolling in. You felt Pietro’s body stiffen beside you.

“You okay, babe?” you asked, tucking some hair back behind his ear.

He visibly relaxed. “I’m fine.” His hand cupped under your knee and tugged you down the sofa. It happened so fast that you weren’t sure how he did, but the next thing you knew, he was on top of you, his knees bracketing your hips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I was just wondering why we weren’t making out.”

“That’s a really good question.”

He sank down into you, cupping your cheek with one hand. You kissed him back fiercely, your whole body tingling.

It was like you could feel the storm coming closer. The static in the air was palpable. Thunder cracked, much louder this time, and Pietro flinched.

You kissed him again, trying to soothe him. “Talk to me, Piet,” you murmured, looking up into his eyes.

He shrugged. “I don’t like storms very much.” He didn’t elaborate further, but after all that he’d ever been through in his life, it was hard to blame him for being jumpy.

“Do you wanna put on some music? Drown it out?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He leant back, letting you squeeze out from under him. You grabbed your phone and Bluetooth speaker and scrolled through your playlists. You settled on a compilation of Motown hits, and as My Girl began to play through the speaker, you felt Pietro’s arms wrapping around you from behind.

You set down the phone and speaker and let him twirl you. Thunder rumbled again, even closer, but Pietro didn’t seem to mind this time. He had his arms around you, swaying and spinning and holding you against him.

Rain was coming down hard on the roof of the cabin. Its thudding punctuated your movements. Pietro started kissing you again.

You found yourself pressed against the door to the bedroom, his hands gliding up your skirt.

“Wait,” you said, touching his forearm. “Do you think you could occupy yourself for like, twenty minutes? I need to, uh… get ready.”

His eyes glinted. “It will be torture to be away from you, draga mea,” he said, humour in his voice. “But I will survive.”

You pecked him on the lips, and then retreated to the bathroom with a bag of supplies Pietro had picked up for you from town earlier. Pulling out your phone, you reopened a tab that had some tips about how to prepare yourself for anal. You got to work.

Half an hour later, you slipped out of the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. You had gone all out, with make-up, lingerie and heels. You hoped that Pietro would appreciate it.

You found him in the living room. He was sat on the sofa, facing away the tv, lazily flicking through channels. You stood in the doorway, amused. Pietro could never sit still for very long. He needed constant distraction.

“Piet?” You leant on the doorframe. He turned to look at you, and his eyes widened at the sight.

“Prinţesă,” he breathed, sounding almost reverent. In a blink, he was standing in front of you, cupping your chin. “You look gorgeous.”

You couldn’t suppress a giggle. “I’m glad you think so.” You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him towards you. He came willingly, walking you backwards. “I’m ready for you to, as you so delicately put it, fuck me in the ass.”

He let out a deep groan and slumped forward, burying his face in your neck. “You can’t just say things like that, dragă,” he growled between kisses. “You’re going to make me misbehave.”

Without warning, he scooped you into his arms and walked you into the bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed unceremoniously, the mattress creaking as your body bounced off it. Each of his hands found a knee, curling around them as he thumbed over the hems of your stockings.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed. “What am I going to do with you?”

A shiver ran through you. Pietro let go of your knees, bracing himself against the mattress as he leant in to kiss your neck.

You would never tire of the rough scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin. It sparked something in you, making you run your hands through his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He looked up at you and grinned. “I’m going to make you feel good tonight, prinţesă. Just wait and see.”

“You better,” you said, playfully shoving at his shoulder.

In response, he pressed his face into your cleavage, breathing in the mingled smells of sweat and perfume. His hands played with the straps of your camisole, until he’d dragged them down far enough to free your breasts.

“Mm, hello ladies,” he purred, before wrapping his lips around your nipple.

“You did not just address my boobs directly,” you said, mock-horrified.

He met your eyes and winked. “Why shouldn’t I? They are very close friends of mine. We spend a lot of time together.”

“You’re a pig.”

“You love it.” He squeezed your spit-soaked nipple between his fingertips as he went to work sucking on the other one. You keened, grinding up against him.

His hands were suddenly firm on your waist, holding you in place.

“Patience, my love.”

“Asshole,” you muttered, but you couldn’t even pretend to be angry while he was playing with your nipples.

“So pretty,” he said, squeezing your boobs. You were sure that tomorrow that you’d have bruises in the shape of his handprints on them, and you knew that he would love that.

He stayed playing with your boobs, not straying any lower for far longer than you expected. Pietro could be surprisingly patient when he had an idea in his head. You, meanwhile, were getting impatient.

“Piet,” you whined, and he pulled away from your nipple with a satisfying ‘pop’.

“Yes, dragă?” He grazed at your skin with his teeth, making you buck up against him.

“Stop teasing me. I need more.”

He cocked his head on one side. “But I’m having such fun here.” He squeezed your boobs again. “If you want more, then beg for it.”

Your cheeks heated up. Pietro went back to lazily sucking on your nipple while you bit your lip, flustered.

“Please, Pietro,” you said softly.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

“You know what I mean.” You groaned, frustrated.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” He gave you his patented shit-eating grin.

“Please lick my pussy? Is that good enough for you?”

He chuckled softly, but you could see how turned on he was. “Such a filthy mouth.” He tugged on your camisole, pulling it up to reveal your panties. “But you dressed up so pretty, all for me. So I forgive you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

He pressed a kiss to your bare stomach, making your muscles clench excitedly. “If I’m such an asshole, I guess you don’t want me to eat your pussy?” He rested his cheek against your stomach, looking up at you with a soft, teasing look in his eyes.

Two could play at that game. “Well, I guess if you don’t want to eat my pussy, you’re not gonna want to fuck me in the ass tonight?” You carded your fingers through his hair. “That’s fine, we can just play board games instead, or-”

Pietro let out a soft growl, and tugged your panties down your thighs. With one hand on the back of your knee, he spread you open wide and buried his face between your legs.

“Piet,” you moaned as his tongue circled your clit. He kept his eyes fixed on you, a look of dogged determination on his face.

His tongue flicked over you, vibrating aggressively, and you keened in pleasure. Clearly, he wasn’t going to take his time anymore.

With one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, he laved over your clit with his tongue, trying to drag every little gasp and moan out of you. He slid two fingers into you. You could hear the slick sound of your own wetness as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Pietro,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of his hair as he slipped a finger into your asshole. His pace was just as brutal and relentless, and all you could do was hold on tight and enjoy the ride.

Your juices were dripping down his chin. His lips sealed themselves over your clit and he hummed against you, vibrating you to your core. With a deep, drawn out moan, you came, a fresh rush of liquid soaking his face.

He didn’t let up his assault. Instead, he scooped up your other leg and pressed both of your knees back against your chest so that he could get to your asshole.

His tongue found its way there, and your stomach muscles jumped again. This was unfamiliar territory. Pietro had fingered your ass before, but you’d never been rimmed, and feeling the hot, wet muscle probing at your asshole was making your pussy clench.

Although you knew that you were prepared for this, and you were as clean as you could be, you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. Pietro seemed to be having a good time, though, giving all of his love and attention to your asshole, which eased your mind a little.

His tongue pushed through, penetrating the ring of muscle. You gripped the bedsheets, gasping his name like a prayer. He released one of your legs, and put two fingers back into your pussy. They were a warm and comforting weight inside you.

“Did you prepare yourself for me, prinţesă?” he cooed, stilling his movements.

You nodded. “I used the cherry lube.”

“I noticed. It tastes good.”  

The first few times his tongue slipped in and out of you, it was a little messy, but he soon got into the rhythm of fucking you with his tongue. That was the thing with you and Pietro; you always found a rhythm.

And although this felt good – a hot, squirmy and unfamiliar pleasure – you knew that this was never going to make you cum. So when he sat back up so he could strip off his clothes, you were a little relieved. You pulled off the camisole and he made quick work of your heels before settling himself over you again.

His nose brushed yours, as if he wasn’t sure that you wanted him to kiss you, so you closed the distance. His lips tasted of cherry and sweat and musk.

His dick was lying hard against your pussy, but he seemed content to just kiss you, for the moment. He kissed you hard and deep and dirty, until you hooked your legs over his hips to pull him down.

He slipped inside your pussy, drawing gasping moans from both of you. His mouth was right next to your ear as he growled out a few choice swear words.

You held him tight to you, begging him to move with the motions of your body. He seemed to take the hint. You rocked with his every thrust, taking him deeper until he was making you see stars.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, so he didn’t let up. He pressed you into the mattress, angling his hips the way he knew would make you moan.

One of his hands was on your chest, holding you down, while the other found your clit, vibrating his thumb over it.

“Look at me, dragă.” His voice was soft but authoritative. You opened your eyes and found his face directly above yours. A half-smile played across his lips. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You slid your fingers into his hair, arching your back to meet his every movement. You couldn’t have held back even if you’d wanted to. Your lips parted, gasping out his name as you came, clenching around him.

Slumping back against the pillows, your eyes fluttered closed. Pietro had other ideas, though. He coaxed you back to him with his lips on yours. Feeling unsteady, you blinked, trying to get him back into focus.

Pietro was kneeling between your thighs. His cock, slick with your juices, was still achingly hard. As soon as your eyes were on him, he hooked one arm under your hips, tilting you so that he could press his cock against your asshole. Your stockinged feet rested against his chest.

“Do you still want to do this, prinţesă?” he asked, gently.

Your breath caught in your throat. You were used to Pietro’s size by now, but having him pressed against your tight, puckered hole that had never had anything thicker than a couple of fingers inside it was a different story.

Your chest rose and fell apprehensively. One of Pietro’s hands was on your knee, stroking it.

“It is okay if you want to say no, my love.”

You shook your head. “I do want to. I want to do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“You know what to do if you change your mind.”

The head of his cock was pressing against your asshole again. You shut your eyes as he applied the barest of pressure, pushing the head inside you.

It didn’t hurt as much as you’d expected it to. Granted, you had prepared yourself as best you could, and Pietro’s cock was covered in your cum, but still.

“Okay?” he asked. His voice sounded a little strained. You opened your eyes to look up at him, and could see the restraint on his face as he held himself back from pushing in any further.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“More?”

“More.”

He pushed in a little deeper, stretching you. It was starting to sting a little, but you had never minded a bit of pain during sex.

“More,” you insisted, and he obliged, driving all the way inside you until his hips were flush with your buttocks.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, grasping at your thigh comfortingly.

“Only a little. I just need a second.”

“Of course.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to adjust to the size of him inside you. You experimented with clenching your ass, and Pietro let out a noise you’d only ever heard when you’d used electricity on him.

“That feel good?”

You were being coy, but he was too far gone to reply with anything other than a choked-out “Yes.”

“You can move, if you want.”

He started slow. It was a strangely satisfying sensation, muscles burning like they do after a good workout. He thrust deeper, scratching an itch deep inside you that you’d never even known was there.

You moaned his name, and something inside him seemed to snap. He hitched your legs up, rolling you up like an armadillo. He was on top of you now, pounding into you with reckless abandon.

You reached up to touch his face, slipping your thumb into his mouth. “You like that, baby?” you murmured. “You like being the only person who’s ever got to fuck my ass?”

Pietro choked out a gasp, and you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up. It was sudden, and a little surprising. He pulled out of you, leaving a previously unknown emptiness behind. You were suddenly cold.

“Baby,” you whined, and Pietro collapsed on top of you. His hand went to your stomach, sliding down lower, ready to get you off for the third time, but you shook your head. “Just hold me.”

He rolled you both over until you were lying with your head on his chest, legs entangled with his. His arms were around you, a warm, protective barrier keeping the outside world away. His lips pressed to your forehead, fingertips smoothing your hair back and gently rubbing your scalp.

“How was that?” he asked.

“It was good.”

“Just good?”

You shrugged. “It was different. It felt good, but it didn’t blow my mind.”

You felt Pietro smiling against your skin. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Huffing out a laugh, you turned your head, pressing your forehead against his. “You don’t have to blow my mind every time, you know. Sometimes it’s nice to just have my back blown out.”

It was his turn to laugh. He squeezed you, the heat of his skin familiar and pleasant.

“So when’s it my turn to blow your back out?” you asked, walking your fingertips up his collarbone.

“Whenever you want, my love. Anything for my prinţesă.”

The rain was still beating down on the roof as you lay there together.

Next Chapter: Pegging

[coldlittlecuties]

Sawliday AU Chapter 2

Adam and Lawrence wake up in an old ranger station in the middle of nowhere two weeks after the New Year. They have no way to contact anyone and no idea where they are. What they do have are the clothes on their backs, a torn up map that only shows them where to go, and a six-foot chain locking them together.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Day 1 

Adam’s had some pretty nasty hangovers in his life. This was by far the worst. Adam sat up, rubbing the side of his neck that was sore. He opened his eyes in surprise when he felt something on his hands. Adam was dressed in a dark green snow jacket with matching pants, black winter hiking boots, and black ski gloves. There was a heavy chain around his left ankle.

“The fuck?” Adam muttered, standing up. He was in what appeared to be a very small log cabin with rectangular windows looking out towards a vast, snowy forest. The cabin was completely empty. There wasn’t even a fireplace. And it was dim inside. The windows didn’t face the sun, so no light could get inside. This had to be a dream, right? There was no way this was real!

“Hello?” Adam called. He turned around to examine the cabin. He was met with the sight of Lawrence unconscious on the floor near him. He jumped back, clutching a hand over his heart.

“Shit!”

Adam stepped back, then stared at the body. He was dressed identical to Adam, only his snow gear was blue instead of green. The chain around Adam’s foot lead directly to the man’s right foot. Adam was beyond relieved when he saw the man’s chest rise and fall. At least he wasn’t chained to a corpse. He wasn’t sure if he should try to wake him up.

“H-Hey… um, guy? Can-Can you hear me?” Adam asked, uncertain. When there was no response, Adam nudged the man’s shoulder with his foot, the six-foot chain clinking as it moved. He tried again. This time, the man groaned. Adam sighed in relief.

Lawrence opened his eyes, the grogginess replaced by confusion as he took in his surroundings. His eyes quickly fell on the chain, then travelled up to Adam, who stood with his back against a wall. Lawrence stood up, ready to confront him. “Who the Hell are you and where the Hell am I?”

Adam tried to step back, but the wall stopped him. He held up his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “I-I don’t know, man! I woke up here just a few minutes ago, just like you!”

Lawrence observed the man’s body language and determined he wasn’t a threat. He relaxes his own body language, but Adam doesn’t do the same.

“Are you injured in any way?” Lawrence asks, feeling the ache in his own neck.

“I kind of have an ache in my neck. And not the kind you get sleeping wrong. This one goes deep. It almost hurts,” Adam answers.

Lawrence nods. “Me too. My name is Lawrence Gordon. I’m a doctor. Who are you?”

Adam is finally starting to calm down now that Lawrence seems calm. “A-Adam Faulkner-Stanheight… photographer.”

Lawrence nodded. “Do you have any idea how you got here?”

Adam shakes his head. “No. I was… I was just feeding the stray cats by my building like usual. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Despite the situation, Lawrence smiles a little at that. Adam was an animal lover. Animal lovers were usually safe people. “I had just left for the airport. I got in a van, then I woke up here.”

“So… you don’t have any idea where we are either?” Adam asks, his voice unsteady. He seemed much younger than Lawrence. He couldn’t be more than thirty at most. That made him nearly sixteen years younger than Lawrence, at least.

“No, not yet. But we’ll figure this out.” Lawrence felt a strange urge to protect this man. Maybe it came from Lawrence’s training as a doctor. Whatever it was, it was there.

Adam nodded in response. He seems a little more confident now. He spots something silver and shiny out of the corner of his eye. He tilts his head, and tries to walk to the window sill behind Lawrence. Though the cabin is small, the chain doesn’t quite allow Adam to reach the window before it holds him back. Lawrence walks over to the window, just as curious to see what Adam found. There’s just enough light coming in to reflect off of a small, silver tape recorder. There’s a tape inside.

Adam rewinds the tape all the way back, then turns up the volume so he and Lawrence can both hear. There’s a few seconds of silence on the tape. Then, a deep, raspy voice speaks.

“Hello, Adam, Doctor Gordon. I want to play a game. Both of you are reluctant to rely on other people, so much so that you push away anyone who gets too close. But now, you cannot push each other away. The two of you are bound together literally and metaphorically. Should one of you die, the other will be killed.”

Adam looks at Lawrence. He’s scared, and wants to know what Lawrence is thinking.

Lawrence glances at him, but keeps listening to the tape.

“There is a map hidden somewhere in this abandoned ranger station. Follow that trail carefully and quickly. Do not stray too far from your path. If you do not reach the end within seven days, you will never see your families again. Let the game begin.”

Adam and Lawrence exchanged a glance. For the first time since they woke up here, Lawrence looks scared.

“Diana…” he whispers.

Adam tilts his head.

“My daughter,” Lawrence clarifies. 

Adam feels sick. “Jigsaw wouldn’t hurt a kid, right?”

“I’m not taking that chance. Come on,” Lawrence insists, rushing towards the door.

Adam stumbles as he’s pulled along with Lawrence. “Wait, wait wait! Lawrence, we need to find that map first!” 

Lawrence curses. “You’re right. Let’s start looking. Maybe there’s a loose floorboard or something.”

The duo start checking every single board in the ranger station, starting by the door. The planks of wood dark brown and only a few inches wide, making it incredibly difficult to distinguish them in the darkness. They get about halfway through when Lawrence feels a plank shift under his hand. It’s loose and easy to pull up.

Lawrence triumphantly holds up a torn piece of a map with a red line showing them where to go with vague markings, a drawing of a compass in the bottom corner to show them which way to go, and little else. They don’t see the surrounding area beyond the trail. Only a line through the forest with no indication of distance.

“Huh. Seems easy enough,” Adam comments.

“A little too easy,” Lawrence thinks. “This seems very tame by Jigsaw’s standards.”

Adam shrugs. “Maybe he’s running out of money building too many death traps?”

Lawrence purses his lips. “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it. There has to be something more.”

“Look outside! We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s freezing, and we have no idea how long this trail is. You know how easy it is to get hypothermia doctor?” Adam sassed.

Lawrence rolls his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve treated it many times.”

“Then you know why we need to hurry up and get moving!” Adam insisted.

“Not yet. We need to check out the rest of this place first, get everything we can. That’s how we survive this,” Lawrence says.

Adam says nothing as he and Lawrence continue searching the wooden planks. They don’t find anything else in the floor, along the walls, or on the ceiling. Adam grabs the wooden plank from the floor that hid the map to take with them for defense or burning. Finally, they’re ready to begin the hike of their lives.

Lawrence is the first out, followed by Adam. The younger man can’t help but shiver and hug himself. The ranger station they woke up in wasn’t warm by any means, but it was safe from the elements. Adam dreaded spending seven days in the snow without any shelter and a cold metal chain sucking out what little warmth he had.

They hike into the woods, side by side. The only sounds are the crunching of snow beneath their feet, the chain clinking behind them, and the wind whistling through the trees.

Adam shivers again and hugs himself. He tilts the 2 by 4 in his hand so it won’t hit Lawrence.

Lawrence raises an eyebrow in concern. “Are you already cold?”

Adam shrugs. “I’ve never been good with the cold. I grew up in southern California. Didn’t know what weather was until I moved to New York.”

Lawrence hufffs out a laugh, his breath fogging in the air. “That’s actually where I was heading before… this,” he says, unsure what to call their current predicament.

“Oh yeah? Looking at summer homes?” Adam asks.

Lawrence rolls his eyes. “No, I was supposed to be going to a convention. It’s an annual thing some hospitals with investors do to show all the work they do and why they deserve the funding, that sort of thing.”

“You charge an arm and a leg for a bandaid but still need investors?”

Lawrence smirked. “Used to be an arm and two legs.”

Adam laughed. It was the first time he’d laughed with another human being in a long, long time.

****

Adam and Lawrence don’t know for certain how far or how long they walked. Both of them were more focused on their conversation. Lawrence frequently checked the map to keep them on track. It’s getting harder now that the sun is setting and he can’t check where they are. They’re both chilled to the bone.

“W-We should make some k-kind of sh-shelter,” Adam suggested, his teeth chattering lightly.

Lawrence shook his head. “We don’t have time for that!”

“You can’t p-possibly tell wh-where we are on the m-map!” Adam argues.

“It’s a straight line for the next few miles. I think we can manage that,” Lawrence insists. His tone is stern, leaving no room for argument.

They’re fortunate enough to have an almost full moon lighting their way through the trees. It’s still dark, but they can at least tell where the trees and most of the tripping hazards are. Adam and Lawrence take turns holding the chain between them so it won’t get caught on anything. It means they have to walk closer together, but in this winter hellscape they’re in, that’s a bonus. The two men are close enough to almost feel the other person’s body heat.

“I wish he gave us scarves, or at least jackets with hoods,” Lawrence grumbles, rubbing his face with his hand.

“You g-getting cold already, d-doc?” Adam says with a smirk.

“No!” Lawrence denies, almost too fast. “Our faces are very susceptible to frostbite, especially with the wind blowing at us.”

At that, Adam tucks the 2 by 4 under his arm and copies Lawrence and rubs his nose. “Think we’ll make it before we end up like Voldemort?”

“Like who?” Lawrence asks, slightly concerned.

“Y’know, Dark Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter?” Adam prompted.

Lawrence nods in understanding. “Oh. I’ve never read Harry Potter.”

“What?!” Adam stares at him in shock, like Lawrence had told him he was a wizard. “You’ve never read it?”

“I don’t like fantasy! I don’t want to have to learn the rules of a world just to enjoy a book. I read to relax,” Lawrence explains.

“They explain the rules along the way! Y-You find out everything at the same pace Harry does. It’s like you’re not even learning!” Adam is speaking more animatedly now, which is helping him warm up.

Lawrence smiles when he realizes this. “Maybe I’ll check it out when we get home.”

Adam smiles back. “You should. I think you’d really like Hermione. She’s a braniac, too.”

“Does she become a magical doctor?”

Adam chuckles. “I’m not spoiling anything. You gotta read it an find out!”

Lawrence laughs and playfully nudges Adam’s shoulder. “Fine. I’ll read it.”

Adam pumps his fist. “Yes!”

As they talk, they seem to forget about Jigsaw and the game they’re trapped in. It just feels like two friends taking a midnight walk laughing and talking about whatever comes to mind.

[lifetimeshipper]

The GrimBee Story

Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~

Grimlock limped over to the others. Ultra Magnus was leaning against the wall while Thunderhoof was checking his mate's wounds, "Next time I see that Velociraptor I'm going to tear his feet off," the Predacon snarled before wincing when she felt her side sting.

"I know you will, but right now you need to just relax. Sorry, I couldn't come to help you," Thunderhoof said feeling guilty about not being able to help his mate.

"It's okay, I was just lucky one of those missiles managed to knock him off before he got a good grip," she replied as she wrapped her tail around his leg.

"Yeah, thankfully."

"I don't think it looks that bad," Grimlock added as he saw the wound.

"It doesn't but I'm sure it really hurts," Thunderhoof said.

"My back is fine, it's just my side that hurts like pit. You alright, Magnus?" Metalsound asked the commander as he slowly got back to his feet.

"I will be once we get back to the scrapyard and I can get some recharge."

"Is everyone okay?" Bumblebee asked when he arrived.

"A bit beat up but good," Thunderhoof replied.

"Thank goodness. I managed to get a good look at our 'Con."

"What or who was it?" Thunderhoof asked.

"Fixit was right about him being a Spinosaurus. He never said his name though."

"A Spinosaurus? I knew a Spinosaurus, wonder if it's the same one," Thunderhoof stated.

"Did he have a long scar above his optic?" Bumblebee asked.

Thunderhoof looked at him with wide optics, "He did, he got it in a fight during initiation to get into my mob squad."

"What was his color scheme?"

"Black with patches of brown."

"That's the same color of the mech I fought."

"Let's get back to base and look him up and see."

"Right."

Bumblebee called Soundwave for a Ground Bridge. Not long after, a Ground Bridge opened up and they all went through to the scrapyard. Metalsound made her way to Med Bay while Thunderhoof and Bumblebee looked up their Decepticon, "There he is," Bumblebee said after finding him.

"Yeah I know him, he used to work for me. His name is Ripjaw."

"That's an intimidating name, and he looks like he lives up to the name," Bumblebee shuddered, "Out of curiosity, how did one get into your old group?"

"To get in you have to fight this Honey Badger called Blackout, he was the toughest, meanest 'Con I had in my group. If you could beat him you got in."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it was tough, only a very few could beat him. Anyway, we need to figure out a way to catch this guy."

"Any ideas on what he wants here on Earth?"

"No, not a clue."

"What did he do for you?" Bumblebee asked.

"He would offline anyone who would stand against me, that included those in my group too. I hurt a lot of families back then."

"No wonder you were locked up on the Alchemor, him too."

"I'm not proud of the things I did but it felt like it meant the world at the time," Thunderhoof sighed, ashamed of himself.

"I know, but you're a changed mech now."

"And I have a family. I better go check on Metalsound," he replied softly as he headed off to see his mate.

"OK."

"Bumblebee," Grimlock called to the mech as he limped over.

"Yes, Grim?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"My leg is a little sore but I'm fine. Did you find the Decepticon you and Thunderhoof were looking for?"

"Yes, his name is Ripjaw and he used to work for Thunderhoof."

"He did?"

"Yep."

"Do you think we can stop him?"

"We must, he's too dangerous to continue roaming around Earth."

"So is his gang," Grimlock said as he rubbed his sore leg.

"Did you get that checked out?"

"I'll wait until Metalsound is done, her wounds looked worse than mine."

"There are three doctors, surely not all three will be working on her."

"I think Ratchet is helping Ultra Magnus and Knock Out is with Metalsound. I'll look for Fixit."

"OK."

Grimlock found Fixit who was helping Denny unpack a package, "Hey, Fixit."

"Hello. Is something wrong?" The Mini-Con asked as he rolled over to the Dinobot.

"I was wondering if you could look at my leg, I hurt it during the fight."

"OK, let's see," Fixit mumbled to himself as he looked over Gimlock's leg.

"How does it look?"

"You have a large scratch on your leg but it should be alright. Just try to stay off it for about a day or two."

"Stay off it for a day or two, got it."

"And you're free to go."

"Thanks, Fixit," Grimlock said as he left.

"You're welcome, Grimlock," Fixit called after him.

Grimlock headed towards his quarters to get some rest. Bumblebee sees him and walks over, "Hey, Grim. What did Fixit say?"

"I'm alright, I just need to stay off this leg for about a day or two."

"OK, go on and get some rest."

"OK, good night."

"Good night, Grim."

~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, Bumblebee was at the Energon shack drinking a cube of Energon when he saw Grimlock coming over, "Morning, Grim. Sleep well?"

"Yep, my leg's feeling better."

"That's good, but I thought you were supposed to be off it for a day or two."

"I wanted to get some Energon, then I'll go right back to my quarters."

"You better, you need that leg to fully heal."

"I know. Any luck on our Decepticon?"

"Not yet, but we're working on it."

"We got a name for the other Decepticons? There was the one I was fighting and the three that Metalsound, Thunderhoof, and Ultra Magnus were fighting as well."

"No, haven't gotten their names yet."

Grimlock finished the rest of his Energon before tossing the empty cube in the waste bin, "Now you go back to your quarters and rest," Bumblebee tells him.

"I'm going," the Dinobot replied with a smile as he headed to his quarters to rest.

"And I better not see you out again, you need to follow the doctor's orders!" Bumblebee called after him.

"Got it!"

Bumblebee just chuckled a bit, "Hello, Bumblebee," Emberwing greeted.

"Hello, Emberwing."

"Is Grimlock okay? He's limping."

"Yeah he's fine, he just hurt it in a fight."

"So were Oka-san, Papa, and Ultra Magnus but Ratchet said they would be okay. Oka-san needs a lot of rest though."

"Yeah, same with Grimlock."

"Did you guys get the Decepticons?"

"No, not yet."

"I know you'll get them. I'm going to play with the guys. Bye, Bumblebee," Emberwing took off to find her friends.

"Alright. Bye, Emberwing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Wolf-Con and the Cadet

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

[greatgigintheskiess]

With Me

Chapter 2: New Impressions

CW: (Implied) Child Abuse, Lab Whump, Starvation

Word Count: 2.6 k

--

The day had started like any other usual October morning for Don. He woke up on the couch in his living room at the time of 8 am, feeling more exhausted than well rested, since his bed had been taken by the boy he 'found' last night. Don pulled the thin blanket off his body and sat up. The small TV, standing on a wooden cabinet by the window across the room, was turned off. Don was only staring on a black screen, recognizing his reflection in it. His head was aching slightly when he covered his face with both hands and rubbed his sleepy eyes. A slight pain ran through Don's neck as he was stretching, massaging pleasurably the sore spot with his fingers. He stood up with a groan about his throbbing neck and went into the bathroom.

Water splashed against his face, immediately cooling his skin, which made him feel a little bit more awake. He turned off the faucet, braced both hands on the edge of the sink and took a deep breath with his eyes closed as remaining water dripped from his face. Don looked up and saw himself in the small mirror above the sink. His dark hair was unkempt, the eyes looked tired despite sleep.

We really should get more sleep, don't we?

It was no wonder, when he was always coming home late from hunting. And spending the rest of this stressful night on his small uncomfortable couch sure didn't help with that nor his neck or back. Last night was certainly one of the most exciting things Don had experienced in his life by far. Yet, he also had responsibilities to assume now- something he had never to deal with before.

Before, it was him. And only him. He had no one to care for, to look after.

But now Don had this weird little child in his house he didn't know what to do with. He was there and, in the aftermath, all of yesterday's actions still flashed before Don's eyes like a fever dream. And honestly, he also wished it to be exactly that- a dream.

Apart from this, the man tried to carry out his morning routine as usual though, trying to clear his mind with something familiar in all of this mess. So Don had boiled up some water to drink his coffee and sat down at the small table in his kitchen like every morning. He turned up the radio in the kitchen and listened to the news. Nothing unusual, still the same old stuff. After breakfast he decided to take a pain reliever for his neck. Don took the pill and swallowed it with a bit of water. Just when he wanted to put back the pills, he saw many bandages and salves laying on the kitchen counter, everything in a mess.

He sighed, being reminded of his main task once again. Because no matter how hard he tried to blend it out, pushing it in front of himself, maybe he really should look after the kid now.

Of that Don slowly became aware when he entered the bedroom and caught sight of a little figure laying in his bed, shifting and glancing towards him with big frightened eyes. Disinfecting the boy's wound wasn't easy, it really wasn't. And Don was so worried about doing something wrong, about hurting him even more. Sure, he also could've left the child there in the forest, claiming that it wasn't his problem. But something deep down in his heart had told him otherwise. Was it him getting attached to something way too quick or did he just see it as responsibility to purify his conscience?

When Don was finished with disinfecting and saw how the boy, Six, burst out in tears right in front of him, he also believed to feel pity for him. The man sighed.

What did I bring upon myself? Don thought to himself when he left the room, leaving the kid all puzzled and confused.

But the worst thing of all was that none of this had been the child's fault. He was just thrown into this complicated situation without being asked. Don could only hope that he would bring the kid back on his feet again as fast as possible before any local authorities got wind of this. That night, he had thought a lot about how to deal with this situation. It's not that Don wanted to get rid of the boy as soon as possible but, honestly, he also had a bad hunch about all of this. He barely knew anything about the kid and judging by his looks and weird behavior, something about this child seemed so utterly wrong.

Not to be selfish but Don really didn't mind returning back to his usual life without any further consequences or responsibilities. Right now, he only has to master this one situation. So the man turned up the stove and started making something to eat as it was already lunch time. Also the kid was surely hungry after the long night.

Don carefully opened the door to his bedroom and stepped in with a bowl and spoon in his hands.

"Six, are you hungry? I made you soup." He told the boy, who almost jumped up in the bed at the sight of the man.

The kid didn't reply and eyed Don as he sat beside him on the edge of the bed, helding the bowl out to him. At least, the boy had stopped crying and only reddened tired eyes anxiously darted at the man, dark eye rings underneath.

"There, chicken broth." Don added. ,,That'll get you back on your feet."

Six insecurely looked down to the food being offered to him and then back again to Don as if it was supposed to be something poisonous the man had tried to give him. The pleasant scents were rising into the boy's nose, tempting him to accept the offer as he felt his stomach growling. Still, he hesitated and didn't dare moving an inch, noticing the man's pinning glance out of the corner of his eye.

"C'mon, you gotta eat somethin', kid." The man urged the boy.

He already expected this kind of reaction as the child still wasn't fully trusting him. But Don wanted, no insisted, on taking care of the boy's basic necessities. He was shocked how light the kid was when he had carried him to his car and his house last night. He weighed almost nothing, the child was only skin and bones. Plus, physically he was still in a very worrying state. Don remembered the many injuries and bruises on the boy's arms and legs, so that he continued to ask himself what had happened to him. Although, if he was being really honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find that out.

Six still looked a bit unsure but Don could clearly see him staring at the bowl with hungry eyes. Then, he finally gave in and took the bowl with trembling hands, feeling the warmth of the soup in his palms. The boy straightened a bit in the bed, placing the bowl on the blanket between his knees and chest.

Don watched the child patiently, handing him the spoon, too.

"Careful though, it's hot." He told the boy, who seemed to enjoy the warm feeling in his small hands as his features eased in an instant.

Don really didn't want the kid to be more uncomfortable than he already was in the man's presence. So maybe he could at least make the boy feel warm and fed.

The kid hesitantly took a spoon full of soup and drew it to his lips. The warm liquid poured down his throat, leaving the delightful flavors on his tongue. He had never tasted something so good before. He took another spoon, this time a bit more of it, but still cautiously. Another one followed and another, until the bowl was empty.

Don couldn't help but smile as the boy seemed to like the food a lot.

"Good?" He smirked, expecting an affirmation, praising his rather non-existing cooking skills.

At least there were some people who would eat his food, Don thought amused.

The boy nodded eagerly in response while eating the broth spoon for spoon. Warmth spread within his body as he finished eating. It felt good.

For a brief moment, the boy really felt delighted, could blend out all these negative things in his mind. But in the next, Six was thrown back into bitter reality. He wasn't supposed to feel good. It just wasn't his natural state. Whenever he briefly had felt good, pain would follow right after. So it was no wonder when he soon started developing feelings of shame and embarrassment. Because even if there had been happiness, it always left behind that bitter aftertaste of not knowing how long that feeling would last.

So the boy started feeling anxious again and winced when the man had addressed him.

"More?" Don asked, still with a slight smile on his lips.

Staring at him, Six only now did realize that he was asked a question. There was more of it? Usually, he only got one portion of food per day. And now he could eat more than that? It appeared odd to the boy but honestly, he really would like another bowl of this. Just when he wanted to open his mouth, there again was this feeling. That shouldn't be it. He was not allowed to ask for more food. Everyone gets their ration per day, no exceptions.

Back there, he never got the opportunity to eat as much as he wanted, so the boy's decision wasn't that hard to make. He had to use this opportunity, because who knows when the next time would be, where he could get any food? You're disgusting, he thought to himself. You're selfish. And being selfish means punishment.

Don noticed that the kid was pondering about something after the question but decided to wait for his response. He saw how the child's cheeks turned crimson, he flustered, was too embarrassed to look into the man's face.

"Y-yes...?" The boy replied shyly, tapping his fingers at the sides of the bowl he was still holding in his hands.

It sounded more like a question than an answer to Don. And when he noticed the boy was trying to avoid any eye contact, nervously fidgeting his fingers, he could also tell that the kid was very embarrassed right now, though he couldn't think of a single reason. What was wrong with asking for more food?

Still, he gave the boy a warm smile.

"A'ight."

Carefully, the man took the bowl out of the boy's hands and went into the kitchen. He came back with it, completely filled with broth again, handing it to Six. The kid again hesitated first, until he started eating more avidly, without even looking at Don, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Gods, kid. You're actin' like you eat it for the first time in your life. Doesn't your momma give you that when you're sick?" He remarked, a brow furrowing in confusion.

For a brief moment, the boy hesitated, his glance falling to Don.

Don believed he might've hit a soft spot when mentioning the boy's parents in his remark. Maybe the child had some bad experiences with his parents so that would be the reason for not mentioning them at all. Maybe they neglected him, were abusive even. But, to his surprise, the child didn't even flatter one eyelash. Six slightly shook his head in response before averting his eyes.

"Just paste..." The boy mumbled as he swallowed another spoon of soup.

Now Don was really confused. He gave the kid a puzzled look, not understanding what he meant with that. After all, Don had the urge to find out more about the boy's background but hesitated to ask him about it as he feared doing something wrong. He was rather insecure with kids, like really insecure about what to say and what not. Despite that, the man had tried to appear as friendly as possible but building up trust was surely a challenge for him to face. Especially if it was kinda his fault that the boy even ended up here with him.

"Paste?" Don frowned. "You mean like porridge or mush?"

The boy finished his meal and stared into the empty bowl. Don wondered if it had been enough to satisfy the child's hunger.

He also noticed that the boy's attitude from before now drastically changed to a more serious one. Before, he was full of emotions; fear, tension, shame, anxiety. But now he sat there still, barely breathing and it seemed like life had disappeared out of his eyes.

Just when Don wanted to add something, he heard the boy mutter something under his breath.

"Concentrate... It's grey, no taste. But regains strength."

The man thought he had misheard. He believed to know what the boy meant with that but didn't want it to be true. That couldn't be it. Don't tell me the kid never got something else to eat than that.

Concentrate, feed. The stuff they give to animals.

There was no feeling in the world that could express the one Don had right now. He already thought the conditions, where the boy used to live in, to be bad, but not this bad. That was just straight up awful.

No wonder why the child was so skinny and emaciated without any proper nutrition.

Don shook his head in disbelief. He really hoped that the boy was only lying to him and this was supposed to be some kind of unfunny joke but, judging by the serious expression on the child's face, it appeared to be the truth. Six still was sitting on the bed motionless, staring into the bowl, Don beside him, speechless. He had thought so long about how to respond to that shocking answer but didn't come up with any.

"And what 'bout your parents, boy?" Don asked instead carefully, waiting for the kid's reaction.

Six didn't raise his glance but continued to run his tiny fingers along the bowl's edge.

"I...never knew them…" He replied absently.

That was when Don believed to see something dawning on the child's face. It was sorrow. He looked down on the little boy, eyeing him for a while with concern.

"So you're an orphan, aren't you?"

No reply.

Although, one wasn't needed anyway. The answer was pretty obvious.

That explained a lot but at the same time nothing at all, Don thought. He had tried so hard to look through this mess but the more he found out, the more he felt insecure with the boy.

All in all, this whole case was certainly one: Confusing.

Eventually, Don decided to end this conversation here and leave the boy alone; these probably had been enough impressions for one day. And Don didn't want to overwhelm the child more.

So he stood up from the bed and pointed to the bowl in the boy's hands. "I'll clean that up first. Comin' later again."

Six finally raised his head, as if he was thrown out of his trance. He didn't reply but watched the man silently exit the room again.

His glance fell to the window, through which he could see a forest of pines in the distance while the landscape was completely immersed in dense autumn fog, the sun barely shining through. It was afternoon already.

--

Taglist: @i-eat-worlds @smellofsnoww

[osamusbigtits]

atsumu walks around in tight boxer briefs. kiyoomi sits on the couch, watching atsumu walk around their apartment with a purpose.

kiyoomi doesn't care about what atsumu does. he just watches atsumu, taking in the plump curve of atsumu's ass and the bulge in the front.

atsumu pays no attention to kiyoomi.

that is until kiyoomi spreads his legs, every so slightly. just enough to catch atsumu's eyes.

kiyoomi doesn't miss the way atsumu eyes kiyoomi's thighs.

"stop distracting me," atsumu says and walks away.

kiyoomi laughs. "what are you even doing?" he asks.

"tidying."

kiyoomi gets up from the couch and finds atsumu in their office. "tidying? the apartment is clean, love," kiyoomi says softly.

atsumu huffs. "no its not."

kiyoomi grabs atsumu's hips and pulls atsumu to his chest. with a sigh, atsumu leans against kiyoomi. kiyoomi kisses the back of atsumu's neck and atsumu lays his head back on kiyoomi's shoulder.

"what's wrong?" kiyoomi asks. atsumu shakes his head. "stressed?" kiyoomi asks softly, his hands roam, gently rubbing atsumu's tummy and squeezing his hips.

atsumu nods. "this upcoming game is stressing me out because my ankle has been sore." he sighs as kiyoomi's hands roam a little lower. "doesn't help that samu's been stressed with the shop either."

kiyoomi kisses atsumu's neck and then the sensitive spot that makes atsumu shudder.

"cleaning the already clean apartment won't help with that stress," kiyoomi says, smiling when atsumu groans in annoyance. "come sit with me on the couch. we should relax for that big game. and osamu has been able to handle his restaurant all this time. I'm sure he'll figure it out."

atsumu nods. he lets kiyoomi pull him to the living room. they curl up together on the couch. kiyoomi's hands continue to roam atsumu's body, feeling the muscles of atsumu's thighs and the soft pudge of his stomach.

slowly, the tension slips from atsumu. he grabs kiyoomi's face, not roughly but needily, and pulls kiyoomi into a kiss.

kiyoomi's hand slips into atsumu's boxers.

atsumu breathes out harshly as soon kiyoomi makes contact with his cock.

"already hard?" kiyoomi whispers, lips brushing against atsumu's earlobe. he nibbles the soft skin there and atsumu gasps.

"your hands," atsumu breathes out, "they're distracting."

kiyoomi laughs, a soft exhale. "so you've said."

his hand wraps around atsumu's cock, starting with slow and careful pumps.

atsumu melts into kiyoomi, back pressed against kiyoomi's chest. soft and pliant. atsumu's quiet moans fill the air.

kiyoomi pushes the boxers down, revealing atsumu's pretty cock. he works atsumu a little bit faster. atsumu moans a little lourder, sounding so beautiful right in kiyoomi's ear.

"I got you, baby," kiyoomi says softly once atsumu gets close. atsumu's moans louder, more desperate.

kiyoomi watches atsumu's cock. he takes in every twitch, every drop of precum that leaks, watches the subtle jump in atsumu's hips.

and kiyoomi's favorite part: watching atsumu cum. the way his pretty cock jumps before spurting cum. atsumu moans kiyoomi's name, hands gripping kiyoomi's thighs.

kiyoomi turns to kiss atsumu's cheek.

atsumu breathes out, shaking and panting.

"at least you have something to clean now," kiyoomi says, looking at the mess on atsumu's stomach.

atsumu laughs breathlessly.

[sofir-kefir]

@dukeoftheblackstar get it, sign it. Wolf's inept massage. Inspiration: my sore back

Plo Kun took a deep breath and with pleasure heard the door to his makeshift chambers close. He stood with his eyes closed, swaying slightly for a minute or more. A few long-awaited hours of sleep are so close. We just need to wait for the commander to give him a report. After that, the Jedi will be completely his own. After stretching his shoulders a little, Kel Dor went inside the room. There was a small blockage on the table, Po grunted under the mask. Tivocca would have looked at him with a look full of sarcasm and irony about his desktop. His teacher always liked order, although his hair could be found all over the room and even in the clothes of Plo himself. Deciding that it was not worth giving such pleasant memories, the master began to disassemble various daapads and maps. He accidentally touched one with his hand and it fell to the floor. Plo shook his head, saying: "he became completely absent-minded and unassembled." The Magister bent down taking the daapad. When he straightened up, he felt an unpleasant and painful click in his back. The Jedi froze, listening to his feelings and how the pain slowly spread to his lower back and lower back.

"You're getting old, my friend..." Kuhn muttered and slowly straightened up. He rubbed his lower back, but it didn't stop hurting, as if reproaching him for a lot of work. There was a discreet knock on the door. Plo Kun didn't even notice that Wolf had already arrived. The commander gave him a report and reported on the wounded and killed. This time there were not so many of them, but they were.

- thank you for your help, the commander-magister put the report on the table and then, after a little hesitation, shifted it away from the edge so as not to fall for sure.

- you're welcome, General- Wolf was laconic but observant. And he saw that something was wrong with General Plo. But what exactly he hasn't figured out yet.

- Wolf, I wanted to ask...- Kun hesitated a little, making sure of the correctness of his decision, - could you deliver food to the forest sector yourself?

"is something wrong, General?"- Wolf suggested that the Jedi was being called somewhere or that he would lead another operation. But then why didn't he say anything?

- unfortunately, I will have to take more time off than I planned.

"are you hurt, sir?" The clone immediately became alert. And suddenly the general got hurt and he didn't even notice. How could he be so negligent about his Jedi!?

- I'm a whole Wolf. My years are already making themselves felt and I have some problems with my back.

- does it hurt? Wolff immediately searched his memory and fished out the general's age. He mentally slapped his forehead and made a note that he needed to find out the maximum age of the kel-dor.

- you know everything for me.

- maybe you need to see a doctor?

"I don't think it's serious enough to tear Tapa away from the wounded," Plo Kun tried to calm the commander. The last thing he wanted was for his Wolf to worry about him during the assignment.

Wolf was a little confused, he did not want the general to suffer with such a problem and was looking for a solution.

.. What if I get a massage?, -Wolf felt excited about such an idea.:- I... I once read that it helps with pain and fatigue... If you allow me, I could...

Plo Kun was pleasantly surprised by such a small initiative of a soldier. He also saw that he was worried about his idea and wanted to help.

- what should I do?- the magister tried to be as kind and calm as possible to calm the commander and support his initiatives.

- em... Take off your outer clothes and ... lie down on your stomach," Wolf was a little confused that the general did not refuse his offer. The clone took a deep breath calming his excitement, it was the first time for them. The fighter thought that the first massage was like the first sex. He was looking at the table so as not to look at the general undressing. To Wolf, this moment seemed too intimate and personal for him to be allowed to see this. And here the general not only unquestioningly fulfilled his request, but also allows him to help.

- Wolf

And what if he does something wrong will hurt the general even more. Of course, he will not be offended and will claim that everything is fine, but his conscience will get stuck and he will be terribly ashamed.

- Wolf?

And how to do a massage... Stand next to or... Maybe... He saw one girl doing a massage sitting on the guy's lower back... But he will crush the general under him

-Wolf!

The Commander flinched when the general's clawed hand touched his shoulder

- I'm sorry, sir, I was... just thinking

No one would ever say that the commander of the 104th battalion, a fearless clone and a wonderful fighter .... Is afraid to break his general. Seriously, he was already quite thin, but now without the robes he seemed quite fragile. What's there to hurt!? For the first time, Wolf was able to see his Jedi without robes. Long and toned legs, a strong but rather thin loin and a back with shoulders. Wolf decided to remember how his back hurt and in what places. Only the patient will understand the patient, right?

Plo Kun was lying on his stomach, he felt his relaxed muscles ache and, in principle, they could just lie down, but since the commander wanted to take care of him, the Jedi did not deprive him of such entertainment.

- if it hurts, tell me sir.

- All right, Wolf.

Massage can be different, and KK-3636 invented an improvised massage today. It was the first time he had touched the General's skin like this. Inhaling, he decided to prepare himself and the Jedi a little, since they gave him freedom of action, he needed to use it. Wolff began stroking the general's back. To his great joy, he tried to be relaxed. Stroking slowly turned into rubbing and pressing. Wolf didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but Plo Kun hadn't complained yet. Very slowly, the movements became bolder and more often hit the spot. The clone was discovering a new sensation of warming skin under his hands. Gradually, the Jedi's breathing became smoother and quieter, and Wolf was getting excited. He liked doing it. A strange hobby for a commander and a clone in general. Accidentally glancing at his watch, Wolf discovered that he had been doing this for half an hour. A little embarrassed, he took his hands away.

- I'm done General

No response

- General?

Silence. Wolf began to worry. He listened to his breathing and was stunned. Looks like the Jedi fell asleep. It was very touching, but there were still things to do. Having sheltered the General, Wolf left him with a slight smile. A little later, he sent a message to the Jedi's comm wishing him a good night's sleep. Wolf also wrote to the general to rest, they will do everything for his peace and tranquility.

[lunar-lair]

Oooh, can I hear about "Note: Hands and Heart Required for this Recipe"?

figured id answer these at the same time since you both asked! also hi charlie lmao @teenagemutantninjatrauma dw the masses will get to see the donnie madness. also adding a read more bc frankly this got LONG i really like this wip so i ended up talking abt it WAY too much alkfsdj

this is a little baking fic ive been putting together! the idea is that donnie starts out being offended that people in baking videos say macarons are hard and tries to make them with a stand mixer he made himself. he Fails Horrifically. then he goes back to brownies, and is Instantly compelled by the kind of science that baking entails. the thing as a whole is kinda of...it turns into a coping mechanism, for him to say, i have something other than tech, another way for him to be useful, a way to support emotionally as well as physically. hell make muffins when leo seems crabby, hell make bread when mikey has been down, hell make cake when raph's smile is straining, and hell smile the whole time, hell put his weight into kneading that dough, hell put his heart into this. thats why its called that! its kinda like those notes at the beginning of recipes like 'btw youre gonna need a stand mixer and a springform pan for this' but saying 'welcome to baking! pick up your heart and hold it close, and make sure your hands are ready, because while machines can do what we can, whats the point? dont give me that look, youll understand soon enough.'

initially this was going to be a oneshot but it QUICKLY evolved. i havent even finished writing the brownies part and its already about 4k. also leo appeared and made himself Known as he always does, so its a lot of disaster twins so far. i do have some of this one written though, so i can find a snippet! lemme see, uhhh...ok you guys are getting at LEAST two i cant choose. here, this first one is from earlier on, it points out the earlier reasoning/the theming kinda well:

He finally threw his hands in the air after an hour of this, giving a loud ‘UGH!’ and pausing it, setting his work aside. “Fine!” He huffed, stomping over to his blueprints table. “If you’re so insistent that it’s so difficult, I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong!” He’d already been proven wrong so many times that his tech, his projections, his work couldn’t stand up to a challenge. That it would crumble under the grasp of the sharp claws of a demon, or the megaton punch of a battle suit.  He was 15, and he was sore, and he wanted to prove himself.   Well, he’d thank himself later, but for now, he pulled out the blueprints and called, “Shelldon, pull up schematics for commercial stand mixers.” He’d proven he could do better, with Shelldon and with Raph’s eye and his shells.  He could do something as simple as this. 

dont ask me how shelldon is alive i didnt think that hard abt it. just . the robots alive get used to it. this next snippet is later on, and is more on the disaster twins/donnie knowing his family kind of side

Leo leaned back and curled into himself, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes averted. Jeez, he really felt bad, huh? Well, in that sorry, man way and not I’m sorry I’m not good enough way, but still. “But this seems like you’re really getting into, you know? I didn’t wanna criticize you right when you started out. “ Donnie thought, for a moment.  A lot of times, Leo did things because he was projecting.  This was, often, perfectly fine. He rarely did it in a bad way, but in this sort of sense? When he was saying, I didn’t want to criticize you right when you’re starting out? Leo knew Donnie could take criticism.  It’s Leo who can’t.  And Donnie can still remember Raph asking if Leo could really memorize all that medical knowledge, and Mikey asking for Raph instead, and Donnie having to guide him through a lot of the bigger words, getting frustrated now and then.  Or when he started drinking tea, and they all called him an old man, because they expected him to bounce back, to bite back, to be fine with it.  Or when he got his first scarf from April and Donnie asked him why he was still wearing it around 2 days later. (Hypocrite.)  And he wondered why they rarely saw him drinking tea even if the bags dwindled, why those scarves disappeared for a year or two. 

ok i was lying take ONE more snippet. i really like this doc it all came together pretty well even if it isnt quite finished yet/i wrote it at 8-10 pm the night after an all nighter

The whole time, Leo had this smile on, a little childish and fun. Not…not quite as blinding as it had been in the past, or as blinding as it might ever be again, but big and bright and simply excited. Like eating the brownies his brother made by hand was the only thing on his mind.  It settled something worried and loving and warm in a corner of Donnie’s heart, the same something that settled when he made machines and modified security and kept careful watch when he noticed something amiss.  He let it happen, let it settle, let this be warm.  Leo was the one who was sent to tell the others there were brownies, because he was excited and Donnie had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to sit still around them while they cooled for longer than the two minutes he had already been sitting there.  Donnie only chuckled something fond under his breath as he gathered up some small plates. 

my favorite thing about this doc is just. leos so excited the whole time and its this part of him i dont get to discuss NEARLY enough when i write. hes so bouncy the WHOLE time and its genuinely perfect. donnie agrees, too, so it all works out, hehe.

[104thsquadfam]

@verratensduo​ continued from x

Eren sighed and shook his head. “I valued being able to do it all myself. So it is a little embarrassing and a little bit of a learning curve to have to need and be okay with needing help.” Eren shook his head. He was used to trying to be self sufficient. That meant his pride kept him from asking for help very often, foolish he knew and had been reminded the hard way.

He could sense Connie was thinking about something. Probably his own secret, hopefully Connie never figured out he was working on learning that. He wanted to be sure before he asked. He could definitely understand why Connie himself was trying to keep it a secret, he cared about too many people not too. He actually really admired that.

He also had to admit, he hated bringing up old wounds. However, he did like how far they had come over the years. All of them, it did hurt knowing one of his best friends was still struggling to this day. Though, he did imagine that part of Connie’s life made it harder to have anything last, but standing someone up was not cool.

“Sorry man. I know that is a sore spot. Honestly, I just remember the good. I haven’t really thought about dating in awhile. Just remembering the good times we had.” He then snickered some and moved his head towards Titan. “But hey, if you need a date that won’t stand you up, Titan here would never.” He teased playfully.

     “ There’s no shame in asking for help Eren, everyone needs help from time to time and people who ask for help are far stronger than those who refuse to take the help offered to them. Because people who accept help know their boundaries and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” he tried reassuring him with a smile before looking over to Titan.

     “ Huh? Oh don’t be sorry Eren it’s not like you said anything wrong but I think i’ll stick to being by myself...no offense Titan.” Connie chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head a little before patting the dogs head “ But I know you always got my back, and like Titan...I’ve got your back Eren.” Connie smiled over to him.