#and its hard to keep up with that AND have spending cash without a job

[ninjagocrohw]

i dont know if i ever posted this here but i put the playlist on spotify if anyones interested :3

i have not forgotten juniorjago, im just once again bogged down. 🙃

[britcision]

I’m pretty sure the people bitching about not giving money to tumblr are the same ones who complain when AO3 or wikipedia ask for donations, so I’m just gonna clarify something

Running a website is not free

Even if they made no changes and did only maintenance, they still need to pay for server costs, expert programmers for when something goes wrong, storage (although frankly storage is cheap as chips these days which is nice)

They need to keep up with the capabilities of new tech like improvements to web browsers, never mind their own apps keeping pace with old and new tech developments

Backwards compatibility (being able to run the updated app on old tech) is a massive problem for apps on a regular basis, because there are people out here using an iPod and refusing to update software

There’s a reason every few years apps like Animal Crossing will issue an update that breaks backwards compatibility and you can only play if your phone is running more recent software

This shit costs money even before you look into the costs of human moderation, which I’m not exactly convinced is a big part of their current budget but fucking should be if we want an actual fix for their issues with unscreened ads and reporting bigots

Ignoring that it’s apparently illegal for companies not to actively chase profits, running Tumblr is expensive

And advertisers know we fucking hate them here

They’re still running ads, which we know because they’re all over the damn place, but half the ads are for Tumblr and its store

Other ad companies know we are not a good market, so they’re not willing to put the money in

Tumblr runs at a $30 million deficit, every year, because hosting a site is expensive

They are trying to take money making ideas from other social medias because they’re not a charity; they need to make enough money to keep the site going

If you want tumblr to keep existing, never mind fixing its many issues that require human people to be paid to do jobs like moderation, they will need money

Crabs cost $3

One crab day a year can fix the deficit and hammer home for Tumblr that:

A) we do want to be here and want the site to keep going

And B) they do not need to do the normal social media money making strategies we all hate

They need a way to make money if you want the hellsite to exist, because we live in a capitalist hellscape and cannot all be AO3

If they think they can make enough to keep running without pulling all the tricks we hate, they have no reason to pull said tricks

But they need money

And a way to make money

And if we can show them we can do that, there is a significantly higher chance they will listen to us, the user base they need money from, than if we don’t

Tumblr isn’t perfect, or anywhere close. They need someone to actually screen the paid ads they put through, they need to take the transphobia, antisemitism, and bigotry seriously

These Are Jobs That Will Cost Money

People Need To Be Fucking Paid For Their Work

Tumblr Is Not Run By Volunteers For Free And Nor Should It Be

Paying People Is Good Actually

So if you wanna get all high and mighty over $3/year, by all means, go spend that hard earned cash elsewhere

Good luck finding a perfect and morally pure business to give it to though

Being a whiny negative asshole isn’t more appealing just because you’ve put yourself on a moral soapbox, it just means the asshole is a little higher up

For all the whining about “all the new updates are terrible this site is unusable”…. It’s one fuck of a lot more usable than it was in 2017, 2018, 2020

And yeah, it’s going back down and most of the newer ones have been fucking annoying and I would also like them to stop

But it got up somehow and that means it could do that again

Hope is more fun than edgy nihilism

August 1st is a good and exciting day to summon a crab army

[sashaisready]

Chapter Three - Call me Bucky

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

18+ - please see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

A few days had passed and everything seemed to be bumbling along as normal. No more surprise visits from mobsters, no more outlandish tips. The bakery had its steady buzz of happy customers and business was good.

You'd been trying out a new carrot cake recipe during a late afternoon lull the following Monday. Wanda was out sick so it was just you, but that was okay because Mondays were always quiet and you could handle things alone. You hadn't had a customer in over an hour so were in the back mixing when you heard the bell going.

"Be right there!" You called to the front of the shop.

You wiped your hands on your apron, cursing at what a mess you'd made. Your forehead was sweaty and you had butter and flour over your clothes in spite of the apron. Oh well. Hopefully you wouldn't scare the customer off...

You wandered back to the front of the store to find a tall gentleman in a fancy suit with his back to you, engrossed in his phone. Probably a business type popping in for a late afternoon sugar hit. You got a lot of those.

"Hi sir, how can I help today?" You ask as you take your place at the counter.

The man spins to face you and you can't help but gasp in surprise when you see who it is. James Barnes. He's back. He looks as slick as he did last time, immaculate in his tailored suit. His hair is carefully coiffed with a hint of gel, not a single strand out of place. Still gorgeous, too.

He smirks at your reaction.

"Surprised to see me, Doll?" He asks playfully.

"Sorry Mr Barnes, I didn't realise it was you" you explain. You try to ignore how his nickname for you sends shivers down your back.

"Well, I just enjoyed your merchandise so much last week I had to drop by again".

You smile at him warmly, dropping his gaze because it's so intense that it almost feels wrong to look at him directly.

"Great to hear that. So what would you like today?" Your professional veneer is hanging on by a thread.

He ignores your question and his eyes drop to your messy apron.

"What are you making?" He asks.

You fumble with the apron, embarrassed by your dishevelled appearance in contrast to his well-groomed figure. You must look like such a messy slob to him.

"Oh...just some carrot cake. I'm tweaking the recipe. Had a bit of a quiet period so thought I'd get a jump start" you chuckle nervously.

Why are you nervous?

You know why you're nervous.

He nods and smiles, scrutinising your appearance briefly before he looks back to the counter.

He begins to pick out cakes and pastries again, meticulously studying each section of the display case as he points out what he wants with a gloved finger. He asks for specific choices too. 'That doughnut third from the back' or 'that cookie second from the front'. You begin to understand that James Barnes is a man who likes things just so. And you would bet good money that he's like that in his day job, too.

You pack up his selections and ring him up, it's harder to keep up this time without Wanda. You take his credit card once again and he tries to pass you another obscenely high bill from his wallet.

"Oh I can't accept that" you explain, waving your hand at it.

He laughs. "Why not?"

"You already over tipped me last week. Honestly, Mr Barnes, you don't need to do that. Thank you, but really. You already spend so much here". You smile awkwardly at him, knowing full well he's going to fight you on this.

James chuckles. "I hope you're not telling me what I can or can't do with my own money, Doll..."

"Oh, no, of course not. It's just..." but you have no words for him. No excuses. Not without telling him that you feel uncomfortable taking cash from a mob boss, anyway.

He nods. "That's what I thought" he tells your firmly. In a single fluid motion he rolls the note up and leans over the counter, placing it inside your apron pocket.

You laugh. "Ass" you mutter quietly as you smile to yourself.

The word slips out before you can stop it. You clasp your hand over your mouth in surprise as if you can put it back in, but that horse has already bolted.

James' brows furrow. "What did you say?" He asks you accusingly. His eyes narrow and you see a brief glimpse of the scary man you'd seen on the news.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'm sorry...nothing" you reply casually, busying yourself with stacking up his boxes. You feel sick suddenly.

How could you forget yourself so carelessly?

He leans forward, the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. "Did you just call me an ass?" he asks as his eyes burn into you.

You try to think of a lie but his smirk is contagious and suddenly you're giggling.

"Oh, this is funny is it?" He asks. But his voice is soft, his face amused. It's clear this has tickled him.

"God, I genuinely am sorry" you tell him as you compose yourself. "That was so unprofessional. Really - I'm sorry".

"Why did you call me that?" He asks, watching you.

"Just...." You motion with your hand and copy the gesture he did of putting the money in your pocket. "I don't know. It just came out. The money thing was so smooth" you try to explain.

James stares at you like you're insane for a moment before chuckling earnestly. It stops you in your tracks briefly because it sounds like an authentic laugh, not the hollow snigger he seems to try to and undermine you with.

"Okay. You get that one for free, but only because nobody else is here" he advises as he shoots you a wink.

You laugh but part of you is shaken by his warning. You know full well it might have been a different story if you'd done that in front of his men.

As he begins to pick up the boxes you realise he's outnumbered - metal arm or not.

"Do you want help carrying those?" You ask.

James shakes his head and curls his lip like you've offended him. But then he tries to balance them all in his arms with one under his chin and it's clear it's not a one man job. Even a notorious man.

"Let me just take some. Are you parked up out front? C'mon, let me earn my tip. It'll make me feel better about taking all your money" you smile at him.

James smirks back at you. "Fine. But only for your sake, not mine".

You nod, grabbing a few boxes and opening the door. You follow him to his car parked on the street, a slick black SUV with windows so heavily tinted you don't think they can be legal. The trunk flies open despite James' full hands and for a second you think it's got motion detectors or something equally clever before you notice the man in the front seat.

"Hi again" the bearded blond turns and waves to you.

You smile back at him. Thor? No. Steve. Steve was his name.

"Hi" you reply shyly.

James begins packing the boxes up in the trunk and you follow with yours, ensuring they're secure and that the contents aren't likely to fly out if Steve makes a particularly sharp turn.

"There you go" you tell James sweetly as he slams the trunk down.

"Five star service" James says with a wink. "Thank-you, Doll".

"You're welcome Mr. Barnes" you nod as you wave and walk back to the bakery.

"Doll..." he calls to you.

You turn to face him once more.

"Call me Bucky" he grins.

"Bucky" you repeat back to him, feeling the name on your tongue, rolling it around in your mouth, trying it on for size.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Completely random but whenever it comes to the idea of what Killer’s room would be like in Nightmare’s castle, I’d like to think it was just bare boned at first.

A hard mattress, his jacket as a pillow, a thin blanket, a place to charge his phone, and some knife sharpeners. Some cash he keeps hidden around his room.

Holes and various stabs and knife slashes in the the walls from whenever Killer breaks down or whenever STAGE 3 gets triggered and starts behaving in its typical feral way.

But he’s barely in there most days, unless Nightmare tells him to go in there. He often forgets to sleep, and well, he isn’t used to having breaks and staying in one spot for too long unless Chara has told them to stay.

He and Chara were usually on the move, exploring every inch of the Underground. They could go literal days without breaks or rest. Chara had made sure of it.

And, well. They aren’t used to being alone. Not physically, at least. And although Chara is gone, he’s serving Nightmare now, right?

They have never served anyone besides Chara before. So he assumed that he must stay by Nightmare’s side unless given permission otherwise.

And, well. Nightmare sure gave permission. The man is introverted and antisocial as hell. Killer constantly following him around only made him paranoid, agitated, snappy and suspicious. Killer suspects that Nightmare felt suffocated by his presence.

After given the go ahead to explore on his own, though, Killer immediately takes to spending his time not on the job just exploring the castle. Marking down anything interesting he finds, every way to enter and exit this castle.

Patrolling for days on end until he’s called away for a mission or until Nightmare orders him onto something else.

Gradually, some more stuff goes into his room the more he gets comfortable with Nightmare and his illusions of freedom.

His jars of stolen souls, human blood, and monster dust go on to the shelves. Nightmare notices the damaged walls and orders Killer to do something about that, and well...

Something suggests spray paint...Killer isn’t one to usually listen to them, but it was a good idea. And Killer couldn’t think of anything else to do. So he spray paints over the damage.

Things start changing when Horror joins the little club. It’s because of Horror that Nightmare gives Killer a comfortable bed, better blankets, and actual pillows.

Killer isn’t sure what to think of it. The blankets are warm, and he’s always like warmth, but the pillows are soft. The bed’s more malleable. It’d be too easy to get comfortable. (It’s a false sense of security. It’s a trick, is what STAGE 4 says.)

He’s not used to soft things, so he ignores the upgrades at first. Until something happens one day. The lack of sleep he was hardly noticing catches up with him, and he faints.

And he wakes up in his new bed, cozy and warm.

It registers as a threat to STAGE 3 the moment he realizes where he is, and the next moment he comes to, all his pillows and blankets are stabbed and shredded at his feet.

It takes awhile for him to right himself. He just sits on the floor of the room, among the mess. Stuck between numbness and fear and “I told you so.”

He doesn’t bother to clean up the mess or tell anyone about it, but Horror inevitably finds out and has him clean it up.

The whole time Horror is telling him that he’s lucky to have fainted in the castle among allies and not out on the battlefield surrounded by enemies.

STAGE 2 and STAGE 4 are both listening attentively as 2 cleans. 4 immediately declares it manipulation—an attempt to control them—and starts demanding that 2 kills Horror.

But 2, being the less emotional one, ignores it for now. It can see the benefits in this. He can see that Horror is right.

Still, he can’t let Horror know that. So he puts on his facade and makes a flirty, suggestive comment about Horror really wanting to be in Killer’s bed, huh?

As expected, this causes Killer’s teammate to groan and immediately leave his room; taking the bags of trash with him.

Killer closes and locks the door behind him, and just sits down on...”his” bed. The mattress molds to his frame, as if like a supposed hug..and Killer immediately gets off the bed the moment that thought crosses his mind.

Hugs aren’t soft.

He takes his thin blanket, wraps it around him, and just sits on the floor. It doesn’t take long before he’s itching to get up again though, get moving, be productive, get back to work, do something.

Something appears beside him as soon as the urge comes. Killer tenses but pretends not to notice them. The kid doesn’t say anything, just sits beside him quietly and looks outside the bedroom window.

That sort of puts him at ease, seeing Chara’s visage so calm and not ordering him to get off his feet and stop being lazy.

The two of them past the night like this, sitting on the cold hard floor together quietly; Killer wrapped up and comfy in his thin blanket. Watching the world change outside their bedroom window.

By the time the sun comes up, Killer has fell asleep on the floor, and that’s where Horror finds him. He decides to take it slow, shoving a fluffy pillow under Killer’s head rather than moving him back into his bed like he did last time.

He closes the door gently when he leaves, as not to wake Killer.

[k--havok]

For the space-themed asks:

⭐️ Star - Do you have a favorite character? If so, why are they your favorite?

⭐️ Star - Do you have a favorite character? If so, why are they your favorite?

Oh god this is such a hard question 'cause I love ALL my characters, but for different reasons. I'm going to cheat and choose multiple favorites 'cause that's just how I roll.

Rane & Korzan

This is going to be obvious but it's Rane. Of course it's Rane. She's my absolute baby and the first D&D character I made by myself without (too!) much outside help I had my partner help me when I decided to multiclass her into paladin hahaha

Rane is incredibly special to me and I pulled a lot of inspo from different sources to make her. She's a magical girl. She has PTSD. She's been betrayed by those she loved most. She struggles controlling her anger. She loves makeup and dresses. She's ok with being doused in blood. And she's even pansexual.

In a lot of ways, she's a character I needed when I was young, need now, and will need in the future. She's feminine, a badass, has mental health issues and complex flaws, but also tries her best and has good intentions. I love her so much and she is just so special to me.

The Tales of Ozoarth

Ttoo has an ensemble cast and is a collection of different storylines rather than one story. The cast has only grown since its inception and is considerably large with nearly 10 main characters across different storylines.

I love a lot of the characters and it is so hard to choose a favorite. But I am going to try and go with Braxous, since he is the character that spawned the world and everything around it.

Braxous is an old character. He is now over 15 years old and has gone through a lot of changes since I first made him. He is a huge comfort character for me and helped me a lot through school and beyond.

He's 100% a self-indulgent edgy OC. He started that way and he will always be that way. His past is complicated, and he has complicated relationships with those who raised him. He was abused growing up, manipulated, and in turn, he became a monster early on.

He's a murderer. A betrayer. A liar. Every adult failed him in his life. He was manipulated beyond belief. Borne into a cult and later blamed for following blindly.

He's completely fucked in the head. He enjoys killing people. He loves violence and fighting. But he also loves taking a rest. The world stopping for a moment as he catches his breath.

He loves applesauce and sweets. His mouth and teeth are messed up so he mainly has to eat soft foods. He spends most his cash on buying gifts for friends and bailing them out of trouble. He has killed children.

He's protective of those he cares about, but keeps them at an arm's distance as he does not want to hurt them. He knows his lifestyle is dangerous. He knows he's bad. He's a living weapon; a blade for others to wield, and does not see himself as a real person. He wants to protect his loved ones not just from danger, but himself. But in turn, despite his passion, his relationships are always shallow.

He's an utter contradiction. Depersonalization made form. An anti-hero that crosses the line into villainy more than once. And I absolutely love him.

Waking into Divinity

Now this is a harder one than the other 2 'cause I adore both Casrath and Rylie. But I think I'm going to lean more toward Rylie as I did take a lot of inspo from myself while creating them.

Rylie works a dead-end job and suffers from depression and anxiety. They have little passion in life. They're boring. They know they're boring. Just like most people are a little boring.

But they do have passions. Wants. But all of it is smothered by fear. Of the unknown. Of what could be. Of failure. It rules their life.

Casrath is a catalyst. And although Rylie's life is turned upside-down when they meet and form a relationship with them, Casrath does not cure Rylie's depression and anxiety. He does not chase away any fears of theirs. Casrath brings out the best in Rylie; their passion, their interests, and highlights their personality.

But ultimately, its Rylie who climbs out of their abyss alone. Casrath helps them, but through him, Rylie finds themself again. And finds who they are and what they stand for. And I think that's what makes Rylie oh-so special to me.

--

This is so freakin' long and I apologize for rambling so much!! I just really love and find a LOT of comfort in my OCs so I can talk about them for HOURS. Thank you so much for the ask!!

[nvrcmplt]

Sunflower Community Centre

Sunflower Centre: What they do --- what the social centre provides for those within its walls, is the chance to learn and how to adapt. Depending on the age they are; the workers can and will help with any and every day tasks. Below are some of the services the workers provide without any outside help.

Household - for teenagers / young adults

Cleaning with the correct bleaches and chemical solutions.

Laundry / Tumble drying machine usage.

Scheduling their days with various activities and acts they wish to do

Medication Schedules - a lot easier for those with multiple types.

Verbal Communication skills & Written Communication skills.

Technology lessons eg; Computers, Phones, Tablets - anything electronic. ( This also includes Safety on the Internet. )

Taxes and Money Keeping / Saving / Spending tips and tricks.

Mental Illness discussions. ( They can do their best to listen; but to give advice or if asked to bring in help; they are 110% on your side for calling someone in to talk to. )

Interview techniques, CV writing, Job applications, Benefits Applications.

Household - for children

Basics of Math, English and Arts & Crafts

Homework help.

Technology ( Including Safety on the internet. )

Chore help. ( With small reward systems to keep them going. )

Playtime scheduling / Chore scheduling.

Bargaining nap times and sleeping curfews.

Daily Tasks - Outside etiquette

Using bus, train, taxi and/or any other public transport with confidence.

Shopping etiquette, money handling in stores / in public eye, using card instead of cash.

Exercise overall. ( Walks, charity runs, car boot sales. )

Panic attack self-help ( A worker will always be at their side; however, they aren’t going to be forever, so in order to ween them from relying on someone 24/7. The worker will give them ten-fifteen minutes to sit in a café on their own, to shop on their own, and to brave a few minutes of their own time and self. If a panic attack occurs, they are to try and practice methods of breathing, seeking a moment of their self and explaining their condition the best they can without the Worker stepping on in. However, the worker will know instantly if their person is finding it too hard and will step in to help them out instantly. )

Social Anxiety trials ( Walking / shopping / going to eat with their worker in public areas. During, mornings, afternoons and evenings. Attending small social events and leading up to bigger and bolder events. Slowly again weening off the 24/7 worker. )

--- another service the centre provide is a free of charge aid to those who need a professional to come and talk too. the centre is more than happy to bring someone in or recommend someone to visit in a doctors or gp office. all sessions can be within a group or one-to-one, and will be confidential unless you don’t want that. some services are listed below:

With professional help - aka outsourced - for all ages.

Diet balancing - a nutritionist will visit every few months to help with those with either eating disorders, questions and the obese / anorexic.

Understanding the human body. ( Important talks about Puberty and Changes to the body. These talks can be separated by sex and taught by a Male or Female worker, or can be in one group with two teachers. It is wholeheartedly up to the children that want to know what’s going on with their bodies and they can ask questions. These sessions will always have a Doctor on hand, however. )

Street and Online safety talks with Police Officers.

Emergency talks with Fire and Ambulance staff members.

Ambulance staff will also teach them how to help fellow friends in the centre; in any case; slipping in the shower, hitting one's head, an epileptic fit, disassociating — how to move them into recovery positions, how to keep one's head still, how to check for a pulse - etc etc.

Muses that work here : Julian ( Inherited Owner of SCC ) Shane ( Employee, Qualified Home Nurse ) Noah ( Employee, Front Desk Secretary ) Hanazaki ( Employee, Fitness Group ) Fleur ( Employee, Nursery Teacher ) Toby ( Employee, Nursery Teacher )

[highstreetwraps]

The Benefits of Vinyl Wrap Estimate

In comparison to paint, flooring lasts for many more years. If you are bored with one colour scheme for your wrap, you may switch to another. Vinyl wrapping is an innovative way to keep your automobile looking great all year round.

It would help if you converted your Vinyl Wrap Estimate into a moving billboard for several excellent reasons. Wrapping a car is one of the cheapest forms of advertising. Take into account the number of vehicles travelling through the area. If your design is excellent and conveys your brand’s message, people will notice you wherever you go, even where you park. The average cost per impression is relatively low because so many cars are on the road.

Speedy Method

Wrapping your automobile is a quick and easy process. The average patient may need up to three days for the surgery. The time it takes to complete the Vehicle Wrap could be affected by the kind you choose. Inquire with car wrap installers about the estimated time to customize your vehicle.

Paint Protection

Your car’s paint can eventually fade. Protecting it against gravel, the sun, dents, and scratches is also essential. Protecting your car’s paint with a cover is a good idea. It will protect your car’s paint and overall beauty. Preventing damage to your Custom Vinyl Wrap might save you money on repairs. You can fix dings and scratches on your automobile without hiring a professional.

Invest in a Vehicle Cover to Safeguard Your Cherished Vehicle for Years

Which option do you see best for selling your car down the road? Your car’s value decreases when it gets dings, scratches, and other forms of damage. Protecting your car’s paint with a cover is an easy way to increase its resale value.

You Reduce Spending

Car covering could be an economical choice. You can save money on a pricey paint job by using this alternative. Dealing with elaborate, expensive paint jobs is unnecessary. Wrapping your car is much easier and cheaper than getting a custom paint job. You can keep your hard-earned cash safe in these durable and adaptable wraps.

Rest Assured, Your Vehicle Will be Carefully Removed Without Causing any Harm

Removing the vehicle cover is a job best left to expert fitters. If done properly, it might take as long as three hours. You can be sure that your automobile will look its best after having a professional remove the wrap.

Marketing Possibilities

One such way to advertise your business is to wrap your automobile. Put your company’s name, logo, and website on one of these covers for a personalized touch. Vinyl wraps are also a great marketing tool for startups. If you want to introduce your brand to people, this is one way to do so.

Minor Enhancement

To update the appearance of your automobile when you’re tired of its old style, consider getting a Vinyl wrap. Paint won’t be able to give your car the exact appearance you want.

[proaroundwire]

How to Find HVAC Jobs That Will Let You Thrive

The HVAC industry is indeed growing at a rapid pace. It creates stiff competition, and finding more clients is a chore for most HVAC specialists. Finding consistent HVAC gigs or full-time contracts is anything but easy, especially due to unpredictable demand. 

If you are one of the many HVAC experts struggling to find more clients, you might be asking how to find HVAC jobs quicker and without investing a ton of time or energy while you’re at it. 

Enter AroundWire - a truly powerful tool for HVAC specialists and people of skilled trades in general. It’s the fastest, most reliable, and hassle-free solution that might just be the one option to elevate your HVAC business, taking it to new heights. 

Balancing the HVAC Job Market

According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, the HVAC job market is growing much faster than average, with 441,200 job openings in 2023 alone. That, however, doesn’t necessarily mean that finding a job is easy. The number of HVAC experts is also growing due to the greater demand and additional opportunities in the niche. 

One of the greatest things about HVAC jobs is that it’s a versatile industry with plenty of ways to move forward. One day, you're handling a residential AC unit; the next, you’re retrofitting an entire commercial system for a huge client. This, however, implies that you’ll be juggling multiple platforms, chasing after clients who aren’t too eager to pay, or struggling to put yourself out there in a market that gets more crowded by the hour. 

But what if there was a simpler way to get jobs, connect with clients, and keep the workflow steady? 

Why AroundWire Works for HVAC Professionals

AroundWire is an online platform for skilled trades like HVAC. And before you ask, it’s not just another job board. It’s a place specifically designed to connect common service providers like you with clients ready to hire. At its core, AroundWire is a project that aims to redefine the skilled trades market as we know it. Here’s how it sets itself apart:

1. Stay Local, Work More

You can localize your job search to your neighborhood to make things easier for you and your clients. No need to worry about tiresome commutes or taking all your gear across the state to get a single job done. With AroundWire, HVAC experts can focus on things that matter most - building rock-solid relationships with clients nearby without worrying about spending too much time on the road. 

2. Keep Your Earnings, No Hidden Fees

Too many platforms and job boards want you to pay an entry fee or a hefty monthly subscription. At AroundWire, you get an entirely different experience. You pay nothing to list your services and say bye-bye to the pesky per-listing fees. No monthly subscriptions, no sign-up fees, no strings attached. This platform doesn’t want a cut from your hard-earned cash.

3. Personalize Your Profile and Show Off Your Skills

A picture says a thousand words; with AroundWire, you can tell your story. The platform leverages plenty of flexible customization options that allow users to use photos, add reviews, and write detailed bios to make their profiles stand out in all the right ways. It’s a great way to appeal to a wider audience and set yourself up for success. 

If that’s not enough, add a built-in payment processing solution for every user’s peace of mind and an intuitive booking system that makes things easier for both service providers and their clients. Simply put, it’s a one-stop shop that every skilled tradesperson could only dream about!

Ready to Get Started? Here’s How!

Getting started on AroundWire is easier than you think. Here’s how you do it:

Join the Community: Go to pro.aroundwire.com and sign up in just a few simple steps

Build Your Brand: Customize your profile, add pictures, bio, any licenses or certifications you may have, and just about everything else you could use to describe your HVAC business.

List Your Services: Whether you specialize in heating, cooling, or both, create detailed listings for each service. The more services you list, the better. Remember - service listings are completely free on AroundWire!

Find Your Clients: Check local listings or wait for clients to get in touch. Either way, you can manage your time and earnings as much as you like, with no limitations!

Unlike many other platforms, AroundWire provides full transparency for every platform user. Direct communication with the clients is part of that creed, making real-time interactions even more effective and rewarding. 

Take Control of Your HVAC Career

With AroundWire, you’re not just finding more HVAC jobs. You’re building a reliable client base and taking full charge of your schedule and your earnings. No more headaches, just a direct path to earning, thriving, and growing as an HVAC pro. Don’t wait; sign up to pro.aroundwire.com today and discover how easy it is to connect with clients and make your business soar.

[polaris-one]

Time Management Tips That Stand The Test Of Time

Time is one of the most precious commodities we have. It doesn't matter how much money you make or how many people you know: without time, nothing gets done. Yet it's hard to manage that precious commodity—and even harder to do so when we're overwhelmed with work and deadlines. In this article, we'll explore eight tips for managing your time better so that you can get more done with less stress.

Make a list of the tasks you need to complete.

Prioritize the tasks by importance and urgency.

Break down big tasks into smaller segments, so that they're less daunting.

Analyze your time-wasting habits, such as checking email or social media too often, which can be helpful in identifying ways that you can improve your focus on work (and maybe even reduce some of those distractions).

Delegate responsibilities if possible--this is especially helpful when working with team members who are more skilled than yourself at certain tasks!

If there's anything else we can do to help with this process please let us know!

Prioritize your tasks by importance and urgency.

If you're a student, you know that the importance of your assignments can vary greatly depending on the professor. If you're working on an important project or need to get something done quickly, it's important to do so as soon as possible.

While both urgency and importance are subjective terms that depend on the task at hand, they are both equally important when prioritizing tasks. For example: The "urgency" of finishing an essay depends on how much time is left before its due date; whereas its "importance" would be determined by whether or not it will help determine your grade in class--or even if it affects your ability to graduate!

Analyze your time-wasting habits.

Once you've identified your most common time-wasting habits, it's easier to find ways to avoid them. For example, if you tend to spend hours on social media and browsing the internet, try setting up an alert that tells you when it's time for a break or when your workday is over. This way, if you find yourself getting sucked into social media without realizing it, the alert will help bring things back into perspective for you and get your focus back on what really matters.

Another way of curbing these habits is by setting reminders in advance so that they don't happen at all--which brings us right into our next point:

Break down big tasks into smaller segments.

This is a time management tip that stands the test of time, because it works! In fact, breaking down a large task into smaller parts can actually make you more productive and help prevent procrastination. The reason why this strategy works so well is because it gives you something concrete to work on, which makes getting started easier and keeps you from feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size of what needs to be done.

Delegate responsibilities if possible.

Delegating tasks is a great way to get more done. When you delegate a task, it frees up your time and allows you to focus on other things that need done. If possible, try delegating responsibilities in your workplace or at home so that others can help out with the workload.

You can also delegate tasks outside of work if necessary; for example, if there is something specific that needs doing around the house but no one has time for it because they're all busy with work or school commitments themselves (and therefore unable to complete this particular job), consider asking someone else who isn't working/studying at that moment if he/she would like some extra cash by helping out with this particular chore!

See what gets in the way of focusing on your work.

The first step to managing your time is to see what gets in the way of focusing on your work. If you're distracted, it's probably because you're not focusing on the task at hand. Try to figure out what it is that's distracting you and how to fix it so that it doesn't happen again. You can't fix a problem if you don't know what it is!

Keep a time log to see how long it actually takes you to get things done.

One of the best ways to improve your time management is to keep a time log. A time log allows you to see how long it actually takes you to get things done, which can help you determine where your priorities should lie. You can use a timer or stopwatch to keep track of how long each task takes and then write down the results in your planner or on paper. This way, when you have multiple tasks competing for attention at once (and trust me--you always will), this information will help guide decisions about which tasks should take priority over others.

Time management is key, but it's not always easy!

Time management is a skill that can be learned, but it's not always easy. You may have heard the saying "time management is about managing your energy, not your time." That's because it's important to understand your own strengths and weaknesses before you start trying to improve your time management skills.

If you don't know what exactly it is that you're trying to achieve with these new habits, then how do you know if they are working? Are there still areas where improvement is needed? It's important for any change in habit or routine to have clear goals set out from the beginning so that everyone involved knows what success looks like--and feels like!

Polaris One is a time management coaching business. We help entrepreneurs improve their productivity, work-life balance and efficiency. Our goal is to help you improve your life, so you can be more productive and successful at work.

Polaris One is a time management coaching service that helps you take control of your life. We provide entrepreneur coaching services to help you manage your schedule, set goals, and reach the next level in your business.

At Polaris One, we believe that everyone has the potential to achieve greatness. That's why we work with you to help you realize your goals and dreams. Our coaches will work with you one-on-one to create an action plan that will help you grow as a person and an entrepreneur.

Polaris One 310 Laguna Vista, Alameda, CA 94501, United States +15102893350 https://www.polarisone.com/

[shoyustuff]

4 Reasons You're Missing Out on Worldwide Talent, and How to Step Up Your Game

In the global economy, enterprises are continually striving to innovate their business processes to not only keep up with but also move ahead in their market sector. Corporations need to ensure technology and talent thrive together, says Claudia Saran of KPMG. Today’s technology can help CEOs find and retain great global talent.

HR and Analytics

Data analysis can be helpful for recruiting, but it also can help the human resources department make better decisions about its current workforce.  

Retention can be a major concern for corporations in competitive job markets such as information technology. The HR team can drill down into the data and find out what factors are affecting turnover rate, says Audrey Roth of HR Today. The numbers can show a clear picture of why a particular role is a problem or whether millennials really are hard to please.

By analyzing employee and position data, HR can determine who is stagnating and figure out why that is occurring. HR often seems to exist in a vacuum because the representatives hardly ever see the employees or managers except for exit interviews. Data may be the best tool available for HR to make asset allocation decisions.    

Innovative Environment

Today’s corporate workforce wants to collaborate and innovate. Companies that foster a culture that drives and rewards disruptive innovation have a better than average chance of retaining talent.  

If companies can speed up the decision-making process and implement consumer insights faster, employees will be able to see and measure results. Otherwise, they’ll be without waiting so long for a project to go live that they forget about it.

To better collaborate with global contingent workforce, firms should work to improve their video meeting solutions. The Blue Jeans Network offers many opportunities to harness the power of the internet of things through interoperability and scalability.

Happy employees know what is expected up them and have regular feedback from their supervisor. An employee who has been given goals to innovate will be motivated. Feedback can increase motivation and keep the employee on track.    

Outsourcing and Contracting

One of the biggest advantages of video conferencing is the ability to access talent offshore and remotely. Companies can save time, money and office space with remote workers.  

Contracting talent instead of hiring full-time employees with benefits can help companies on many levels. Not only is there less commitment for the employer, the contractors don’t have to spend time on extraneous training. A six-month contract gives both parties a chance to get a measure of the situation and either continue or look for something else.

Keeping payroll cost low is important for large corporations but also for startups. The tendency is for startups to scale too quickly. Just because a small business raises a lot of cash to start operations does not mean the CEO should spend it all.  

Milestone accomplishment should drive spending decisions. After a startup hits a milestone, it has leverage to acquire more funding. It’s idealistic to think the startup will make a profit in the first year.

Another great thing about video conferencing is the equipment can be inexpensive. All a startup needs is an internet connection, a computer and projector in a meeting space. The remote workers can use their laptops or cellphones to connect.    

Avoid Recruiting Mistakes

Data mining to find candidates is a great start, but connecting with those people and keeping them interested is all about marketing.  

The online application form should not be a two-hour gauntlet. There certainly should not be any redundant questions. After the candidate completes the form, he should receive something better than an automated response. Within 24 hours, he should definitely either receive a rejection or an invite for a phone interview.

Pre-employment tests for most positions are a waste of time. They do not improve hire quality, and they kind of insulting to the candidate. Asking a candidate to endure more than three interviews is ridiculous and makes the company look incompetent.

Instead of trying to find out what a candidate made at his last job and offering a slight increase, companies should know the correct market value of a position. Great candidates are not going to settle for a below-market salary just because the headquarters building has nap pods.

Perks are good for keeping up morale among current employees. Instead of trying to sound hip by using a buzzword such as “corporate culture,” introduce the candidate to a couple of people he will be working with if hired. Don’t do a team interview. Those can scare off candidates depending on their personality.

Stepping Up

As a company grows, should its employees. Regular training inside the organization that can help employees improve their performance and advance is an inexpensive way to help with retention and improve workforce quality. Companies have to commit to improving, if they want to attract and retain the best employees.  

[jocrude]

The Pitfalls of YIMBY-ism: Notes on a Freddie DeBoer article.

https://freddiedeboer.substack.com/p/the-more-density-we-build-the-more Some additional comments on this insightful article by Freddie DeBoer about Yimbys and the “just build” idea. Please read that article first, or don’t I can’t really stop you. Another shortcoming of YIMBY-ism and the "just build" mentality is that by aiming to petition developers to build more, it places its hope for combatting the misery of the working class on the bourgeoisie, rather than directly through/for the working class as an organisation. Realistically, how would you get the developers to build for you? Well, through political action. Now, if you want to take political action against homelessness, high housing costs, and just the general bullshit of being someone who must cough up their hard-earned cash to live like a human and not on the street like a feral animal: a.) You could spend your time as a political organiser organising tenants to fight for themselves for things like lower rent or housing first programs, which has the benefit of utilising already-existing resources rather than relying on new development (more on this later) and, most crucially, building the discipline, experience, consciousness and fighting power of the working class as a class for itself. History (of the labour rights movement, civil rights movements, etc.) has shown us that this is a highly effective, tried-and-true method for improving the conditions of the poor and the working class. b.) Or, you could organise to ask for more buildings, more development, which, in a capitalist economy, would come from the bourgeoisie and probably increase their profits. And of course, the bourgeois exist as bourgeois if/insofar as they generate a profit and minimise loss. If, in this era of great economic decline, the notoriously tight-fisted bourgeoisie would be so charitable as to provide workers housing, it would naturally entail all manner of cost-cutting, hidden costs for tenants, and other fuckery. Do we want houses or flophouses? A working class that fights for itself or a working class that is dependent on corner-cutting bourgeois vampires? Naturally, some would say "well, why not do both?" Am I making a false dichotomy? Political organising is like a second job, that you do without receiving any pay. Lord knows people who can organise even one political action are in short supply, and even if there were people committed/superhuman/masochistic enough to do two at a time, they would be splitting their commitment and brainpower and will between the two. Whole-ass one thing, don't half-ass two things. I also mentioned new development vs existing development: In many cities, there are more already-existing empty homes than homeless. And note also that often in these cities housing is often still very expensive. In places like here in Australia the housing bubble is just about all that keeps us from having the economy of a third-world country (not as much hyperbole in that statement as you might expect!), every capitalist is rubbing their hands raw to keep it pumped full of hot air. There is much more to housing costs than Supply And Demand™️.  How do we know that more development will translate into lower rent? More development translates into nothing but more development. And where does this development happen? And how? Knocking down perfectly good houses for high-density shitholes? Building on the green belt, as if the environment isn't fucked enough already? Near airports, factories, would mentally vulnerable populations benefit from heavy metal poisoning? And do our builders really need *more* silicosis? More at 7, only on Brass Eye. Finally, some would say, "well, the bourgeoisie will fight tooth and nail against anything that empowers the working class. It would be easier to ask for new development than to take the housing from them." Then why isn't the latter happening? I’ve seen tenant unions greatly increasing in popularity, whereas before 2020 it seemed a foreign word even to many leftists. I've seen armed leftists in America preventing evictions in their community. I have not seen any leftists, armed or otherwise, succesfully soliciting new development from the bourgeoisie. Perhaps that is for the best. https://anarchistnews.org/content/why-we%E2%80%99re-against-%E2%80%9Cmutual-aid%E2%80%9D This is a semi-related read about some of the points I bring up. The title is provocative but it's very good.

[l1tw1ck]

Insatiable

Orange = Zhongli, Blue = Ajax, Bold = Reader

Bottom!FTM!Sub Ajax x Bottom!Sub Zhongli x Top!Masc!Dom Reader

{Request} | [Series] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism, Overstimulation, Biting + Fingering (AJ Receiving), Creampie, Choking, Squirting

📝 1,278 Words

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Zhongli and Ajax are your extremely loving boyfriends, they spend most of their time at home while you leave for work to provide for them. Your job pays amazingly and the two already have quite a lot of money saved up so there's never an issue when it comes to cash. Zhongli works from home and Ajax sometimes takes up assassination jobs.

He and Zhongli take turns watching you when you leave the house and Ajax always ends up killing anyone who dared to make any advances on you.

Usually, you have enough free time to satiate their intense needs for you but you haven't been able to come home on time for a while, leaving them to their own devices.

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Ajax chokes out a gasp as Zhongli plays with his bottom growth, jerking the other off and moaning your name.

Ajax chokes out a gasp as Zhongli plays with his bottom growth, jerking the other off and moaning your name.

Zhongli buries his head into the ginger's shoulders and slips his fingers into his cunt with his palm rubbing against his small cock, Ajax pushes his into Zhongli's already prepped ass.

For the first time in a week, you came home early and got to hear the incredibly loud sounds coming from the bedroom. It's like the only word they know is your name.

You open the door quietly and step inside, it only takes Ajax a second to realize you're there. He stops and turns to look at you, like a cute looking puppy seeing its owner come home.

"Stay." You order.

Zhongli jumps and turns his head to you.

"Don't stop because of me, I wanna watch." You smirk, taking a chair from the desk and sitting down. You pull your pants down and spit on your hand before stroking yourself languidly.

They both whimper and keep going, their heavy breaths almost synchronized.

You can tell they're both close, the way Ajax is whining and trembling and how Zhongli is clearly trying not to sink his teeth into his boyfriend's shoulder.

They turn to you and ask you if they can come. They look so cute you're almost tempted to refuse.

"Go on, show me how cute you two look when you come together."

They mumble thank yous and come together, bodies shaking equally as hard. They stop to catch their breaths.

"I didn't say stop."

Their cheeks heat up in embarrassment and they go back to touching each other, getting overstimulated. "Please- please fuck us-" Ajax whimpers.

"The two of you were having fun without me, you didn't think you'd get away with it, did you?"

They babble apologies.

You continue watching them as they squirm around and occasionally plead for mercy. You don't budge, letting the entertainment go on for almost an hour.

The two of them come at the same time once again, Zhongli dirtying the both of them with his spend.

"You can stop now." You walk up to the two of them. "Who's idea was this?"

"Mi- mine.." Ajax pouts. You point at the end of the bed, silently ordering him to move there.

You grab Zhongli, your rough hands and effortless way of picking him up makes him whimper, and position him in a way so that his arms are on either side of the ginger. He's at the perfect position to bury his head in Ajax's shoulder, his favorite spot.

"Keep fingering him." You say, prodding your tip against Zhongli's hole. Zhongli does as he's told, pausing when your cock pushes through the tight rim of his ass. His eyes roll back and his cheeks flush a dark red.

You spank him. "I didn't tell you to stop."

Zhongli whines and keeps going, mouth latching onto Ajax's shoulder. He slobbers over it and almost cries as you start to move. Ajax bites his lips and shuts his eyes tight, moaning as Zhongli sloppily fingers his sensitive cunt.

You dig your nails into Zhongli's waist, snapping your hips against his ass and making his brain overload. He's usually sensitive and comes fast but thanks to his punishment, it's even more stimulating than normal.

"Neither of you could wait just a little longer, huh?" You chuckle. "I even sent you two a text, I didn't think you'd be so impatient."

Ajax apologizes meekly while Zhongli makes a muffled noise. Ajax throws his head back and comes again, Zhongli following shortly after. You don't know how or why, but the two of them are in almost perfect sync when it comes to orgasms.

Zhongli isn't surprised when you keep going, knowing you won't stop until you reach your peak. And he knows he can't stop fingering Ajax so the two of them continue to get even more overstimulated.

"You two are such insatiable whores, you know I haven't even masturbated at all this week? I'm the only one who didn't get to have any fun." You fake a sad tone. "I'm hurt you decided to leave me out."

Ajax only sobs, his brain turned to mush. And Zhongli merely clenches around you. Both of them are just conscious enough to tap out or say the safe word but neither of them do, they love it more than they 'hate' it.

Your thrusts get harder and Zhongli sinks his teeth into his boyfriend's shoulder, likely drawing blood. A bite from Zhongli is painful but wonderfully so, especially for a masochist.

You spank Zhongli one last time before burying yourself deep inside him and filling him with your cum. You slowly pull out and smile at his twitching hole, he's spent but his body still begs for more.

You gently move him onto the other side of the bed, letting him lay down on his back and recover. Since you haven't had sex or jacked off in a while, you're still hard and raring to go. You pull Ajax towards you and spread his legs wider, entering his sensitive cunt.

He squeezes around your thick cock, crying at how good it feels to finally have you inside him. When you bottom out he arches his back and squirts, like he always does.

"I missed the two of you." You grin, sliding your hand from his lower abdomen up to where the bulge in his stomach ends and then up to his throat. You squeeze gently and he grabs your wrist with both hands, nodding and wanting it harder.

You squeeze his neck tight as you start to fuck him roughly, instantly causing him to feel lightheaded. He grins, drool dripping down his mouth and chin. He's so wet that you can easily fuck him at a fast pace.

He looks like a beautiful mess, eyes rolled back with tears dripping down his flushed cheeks, Zhongli's cum all over his lower torso, and slick drenching the insides of his thighs. Zhongli nibbles on the ginger's arm, slowly jacking himself off.

You use your free hand to help Zhongli out, working him at a slow pace that won't make him come too fast.

Ajax squeezes your cock tightly, breathing as best as he can as he comes for the nth time. You loosen your grip just enough to allow him to recuperate.

Your thrusts stutter but remain just as rough if not rougher as you get close to your own release. Your hand that's currently gripping Zhongli's length speeds up so the two of you come together.

Zhongli comes slightly earlier than you do, dirtying Ajax's body even further. Just like with Zhongli, you bury your cock inside to the hilt as you come.

You pull out and look at the two exhausted men beneath you. Though tired and overstimulated, they're both still eager to keep going.

Now to figure out what to do next.

[cheesus-doodles]

Can we get more info on this underground team ceo baji has for beating up people that make his secretary cry? I feel like he stays in contact with boten! Mikey and sometimes ask for his help in exchange for like money or info on someone that hunting down.

Link to relevant HCs!

Masterlist

‎

hmm been brainstorming a bit on this, let me try and answer

tw: yandere, mentions of violence and death

I would say Baji probably started off trying to keep his darker needs to himself - even if he knows the kind of crimes that Mikey and by extension Bonten, is involved in and that his friends already know him to behave in such a manner when it comes to you, Baji would be hesitant to reveal to them just how far he was willing to go to keep you happy and by his side. Deep down, this boy doesn't want to lose the trust of some of his closest friends by asking for help with his dirty work, doesn't want his friends to how they view him and act around him, especially a friend as close as Mikey. Or the worst possible scenario, have them rat him out as a man with blood on his hands to innocent, naive you - no matter what the intentions, Baji couldn't imagine going on without you beside him as his bestfriend.

So the "underground team" definitely started off as a random gang of yakuza members Baji hires off the streets of Tokyo - first job involving a fair sum of cash to dispose of a badly maimed body, the remains of someone that had thought it would be funny to grope you at the business event he had invited you to. They were supposed to be a pretty well-known gang in the area, obviously interested in earning ludicrous amounts of money for comparatively easy tasks but when they quickly realize who their new benefactor was - Baji being the big name CEO he was with his picture plastered across newspapers - as the jobs rolled in, that was when the threats of exposure and the attempted extortion started.

Baji honestly wouldn't have cared more - having the connections and deep pockets he had to be able to brush off almost everything that they could throw at him, plus it was his word against theirs with no other physical evidence - if not for that you would get dragged in and that what he had been secretly pulling off behind your back would be all revealed to you. Even if it was for your own good, or so he convinced himself, this baby boy can't bear the thought of even the potential of losing your friendship over such inconsequential nonsense - he knew that it would be hard to pull off a lie as big as this in the face of those doe eyes of his bestfriend.

And that was when Baji finally decided to turn to Mikey for help. Didn't need to say much more than just the initial apologies to disappointed questions about why Mikey wasn't approached for help sooner - the entire yakuza gang was wiped off the face of the earth the next night with no traces - a clear warning to everyone else not to mess with Baji or Bonten. Not that the police really bothered with that disappearance, just chalking it up to Bonten in the news and leaving it at that.

Now, instead of a rag tag group, its a specialized, trusted team handpicked and put together by Mikey that assists Baji with anything and everything he wants to do. On call 24/7, this team is run from the shadows by Kakucho, but has no clear affiliation linking them back to Bonten. Body disposal? Done in the next hour, not even a smeared fingerprint to be found. Murder? Dead by the next night. Kidnapping? Just name the place and time, and he'll find his target waiting for due punishment.

Now with this Bonten structure in place, its a breeze for Baji to deal with people he viewed as rivals trying to squirm their way into your life. A message was all was needed to have the pests exterminated, he didn't even need to lift a finger if he didn't want to, or if he rather spend his time cuddled up in your lap, soaking up your affection and attention.

But its kind of a two-way beneficial exchange here - Baji would never dream of receiving favours from Mikey without returning them, not to a friend that he has known as long and been through as much with. Rather than just money and information, which Bonten definitely already have plenty of given how ginormous his criminal organization is, Baji with his position in one of the biggest companies in the country would know all sorts of other company and political bigwigs. He would be the man that would be able to say pull a few political strings to get Sanzu released from prison without a single charge for the third time this week, or the one that could organize large scale deliveries of materials that would usually have the police raise an eyebrow with a good discount.

Need a new base? Its a phone call away for Baji. Caught importing firearms by the logistics firm? Not a deal, Bonten'll find their delivery waiting for them undisturbed. Anything in the legal world can be handled no sweat.

And so your world turns without a hint to the undercurrents pushing your seemingly uneventful life along.

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning. 

The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit. 

As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.

Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones. 

Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot. 

The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?” 

“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”

His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously. 

As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.

“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt. 

“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly. 

Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here,” you told her. 

“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”

“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”

With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.

Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently. 

By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way. 

All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin. 

It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig. 

After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.

Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.

Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside. 

After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep. 

Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face. 

“You’re letting all the cold air out.”

You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.

“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”

“What are you doing here?”

Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”

Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”

Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”

“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted. 

“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”

As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.

“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”

Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”

“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps. 

You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm. 

Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”

Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.

“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”

After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely. 

Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.

Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.

“You play volleyball?”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”

“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point. 

He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”

“No. Soccer.”

“Do you still play?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you still play volleyball?”

“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”

“Why?”

The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”

“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”

“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Not with this job.”

Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”

You just shrugged. “I need the money.”

“Don’t you live with your parents?”

“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”

“Do they know you work here?”

“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”

Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Why then?”

“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”

Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”

As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”

Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you. 

With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead. 

As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from. 

The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another. 

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass.��

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: There’s actually none (I hope). I know. I’m surprised too.

Authors Note: This is so dumb. I’m aware. Look, I’ve been dealing with a horrendous writers block and shattered confidence and I made Paul Sevier gifs to ease my pain. It turned into this. I just wanted to try something a little cute and fluffy to get back into the swing of things. So... here it is.

*

It was going to be a long night.

Stuck on the Wednesday evening shift for the third time this month, you mindlessly fiddled with the pen in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, your mind drifted away from the present moment, wondering why your boss seemed to dislike you so much to keep you here past 6pm in the middle of the week. He’d always been adamant this was prime selling time for this boutique suit store, with corporate clients needing to do their shopping outside of normal business hours.

You, however, knew keeping this place open was senseless, barely seeing more than a few unenthusiastic customers in these agonizingly slow stretches. Working on commission also made you all the more bitter about being paid minimum wage to stand behind a counter and doodle sketches of imaginary clients dressed in the outfits you personally tailored. This isn’t where you thought a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design would take you, that’s for sure.

“H-hello,” you heard a deep voice quietly greet you, startling you into focus. “Are you busy? I… think I need a little help.”

Eyes flickering up from the notepad, you were sure your pupils blew wide at the sight of the man in front of you. Standing at an imposingly large height, his hair a severely murky shade of black, with honeyed irises shining brightly behind delicate spectacles.

A human personification of tall, dark and handsome. Well, except for the clothes.

The stranger wore the layered combination of a grey tweed jacket and argyle patterned sweater, arranged over a particularly heinous, mustard-coloured button up. While the ensemble made you internally cringe, it gave him an air of intelligence, like the kind that hangs around stuffy, old college professors who have more academic accolades than you have fingers and toes.

“Me?” you coughed out, knowing full well you were the only other person in this tiny little shop. “Uh, yeah. I mean- No, no I’m not busy. What is it you need help with?” Even when you stood, the man towered above you, making you silently begin to calculate the high-numbered measurements you’d need to fit him in something.

“I have an important meeting scheduled for Friday. You know, the type you need to wear a suit to?” Evidently the thought of it made him nervous, as you noticed his cheek twitch slightly, his eyes scanning momentarily at the garments filling the space. “I’m… uh… not so great with clothes.”

Clearly, you chuckled inside your head, holding the word from your tongue. “You want me to pick out something for you?”

He took a defeated breath, his mouth twisting into an awkward yet wonderfully endearing smile. “Would you mind? Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble!” you burst, maybe a little too excitedly. “It’s my job!” Bounding out from behind the counter you’d been imprisoned by, you moved directly to the section of classic navy business suits. Slim line. Something to accentuate his well-built frame, rather than hide it away. You had to pause, swivelling back around to the dumbfounded man. “Is price an issue… uh…?”

“Paul,” he answered for you, slowly moving to where you stood. “And… I suppose not. Probably should spend the money on something that will last. If you think it’s a good idea.”

Oh thank god, you mused without showing the relief on your face. He’s not some rich asshole trying to flash his cash. “A good suit can last you five years, if you treat it right.” Your hand reached over to graze one of the deepened blue sleeves of a jacket at your left. “And a classic colour will never go out of style.”

Paul let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I think you’ve already noticed how lacking in style I am…” He glanced to your nametag, murmuring your name with a goofy smirk curling his lips. You’d never seen a grown man, especially not one of this stature, appear so adorable. It was horribly distracting.

“I’m sure you have expertise in other areas,” you stumbled, realizing only when the words came out how offensive they might seem. Yet Paul conceded to your comment, his rumbling laugh making your chest feel tight.

“Debatable,” he shrugged. “I’m just glad I found some qualified personnel to help me in this instance.”

Oh boy. Humble and charming? You were in so much trouble. Surely someone as sweet as this had another waiting for them at home. “I’m sure your partner could help you pick out something nice too.”

“Not an option in my case.”

Shit. Single too. You were truly fucked.

You turned, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat by focusing on finding an outfit that would contain his longer limbs. Plucking out a matching jacket and trouser set, with an ivory, collared button-up, you offered them to Paul, his features having melted into a sweetened look of intrigue. “Go and try these on. There’s a changeroom just behind the counter. See how they feel, and we can go from there.”

He nodded, taking the pieces with both of his large hands and shuffling away to where you’d pointed to. No sooner than the latch had locked were you dashing to where your phone was sitting at the register, flitting out a rushed text message to your favourite co-worker.

There was rustling you heard emanating from the changeroom stall, doing your best to ignore the urge of picturing Paul, a man you’d met only minutes ago, gradually slipping off his clothes to reveal the toned muscles underneath. You grimaced at yourself, shaking your head to banish the imaginations. God this was unprofessional.

Finally, a response lit up on your phone screen.

You laughed softly through your nose, about to type a reply when you heard the lock click open again. The breath in your lungs was stuck as Paul made his way out, the expensive textiles draping over his burly frame in a way that made your whole body tense.

He rustled a hand through his hair, looking up to you while fidgeting with the starchy material stretched over his chest. “Does it look okay?”

After all these years working this job, the enticing novelty of attractive men in well-fitted suits had slowly worn off, especially when most of them treated you with about as much respect as the used gum they spit out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, all those preconceived notions were gone. On Paul, this ensemble instantly became the most captivating thing in the entire universe.

The inside of your mouth flooded with saliva, having to swallow hard before speaking again. “Great… it looks… great.” You did your best to conceal a settling exhale. “What do you think? How does it feel?”

Paul shifted to look at his reflection in the mirror, pupils trailing up and down, flexing his limbs in an attempt to get a proper impression of the new apparel. “It feels really good. Makes me look… sophisticated.” He turned to you, his expression unsure. “Right?”

Your smile was sparkling, nodding to his question. There was a small amount of work to do, noting how in your effort to make sure everything complemented his physique, you’d oversized him. The waistline of the jacket needed to be taken in, the shoulder lines sitting slightly off, and the trouser length needing to be taken up slightly. “A couple of adjustments and it’ll be perfect.”

“You mean taking it to be tailored?”

“No need.” You pulled out the wheel of berry pins from your pocket, kneeling down on the floor next to Paul’s feet. “All our tailoring is included in the price. Done completely in house.” You began to fold the bottom edge of his pants, pinning it to an adequate length. “I can have it ready for you tomorrow, all ready for your Friday meeting.”

“You do all the tailoring yourself?” Paul asked as you slinked another pin through the fabric.

“Sure do,” you chirped, moving onto the other leg. “3 years at a design school taught me a few things about cutting and sewing.” With the hemlines in place, you straightened in front of him, plucking out a roll of measuring tape from your other pocket. “I just… need to take a few measurements to properly alter the jacket.”

His cheek twitched, the line of his jaw seeming somewhat strained. “Sure. F-fine. Do what you gotta do."

You went with determining his arm length first, feeling out the boney point of his shoulder and striping the lined tape all the way down to his wrist. Then, after taking a deep inhale, you curled your arms around his hips, focusing hard on the little black numbers to ignore the fact Paul’s breath had started to skate over your skin with this close proximity. It was when you were lining up the thickened stripes indicating his chest circumference that you made the mistake of peering up, finding his alluring stare fully concentrated on you.

There was a moment. A spark to waiting kindling. Where impulse could have led you to do a dangerous thing. You’d never been the hasty type, never acted without considerable thought. Usually so shy and composed, never making the first move. Although right now, you could scarcely hold yourself back, desperate to know the sensation of Paul’s lips, how they’d move over yours, what they tasted like.

No. This was so inappropriate.

The compulsion was about to wither away when you felt a hand skim up your waist, the lightened touch shooting a thrill over your skin.

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice called from your side. “How much are these dress socks?”

You immediately stepped back, smacked into reality again. “$12.99. Exactly what it says on the box.”

The older gentlemen scrutinized the packaging, lids narrowed until he finally saw the numbers plastered at the border. “Oh, right. Eh, a little expensive for my taste. Thanks anyway.”

Flustered, you began to coil the measuring tape into its resting spiral, forcefully glaring at the floor. “I’m all done. You can get dressed into your own clothes now.”

In your periphery you saw Paul regarding you with a gentle nod, walking back into the changeroom without another word. Every part of you wanted to sink beneath the wooden floorboards, so horrendously embarrassed you could feel a smoldering heat prickle at your cheeks. Only to relieve some of the nervous energy, you ran to your phone.

Again, Paul was exiting out of the stall just as you were going to submit your reply, placing the neatly arranged garments over the counter. It was difficult to look directly at him, having to summon all remaining shards of your courage to drift your eyes up to his face. “Was there anything else you needed?”

His mouth parted, only to quickly snap shut, scratching at his hairline in the seconds it took for him to give you a response. “No. Nothing else. Unless there’s something more you think I need.”

You shook your head, wishing you could give another answer just to keep him here. “You’re all set.” The full price of his items flashed on the monitor in front of you, spouting it to him as your fingers flicked across the keyboard to finalize the purchase, with a personal discount that wouldn’t show on the receipt.

“When should I come by to pick it up?” he queried, passing you his credit card. “Oh, but there’s no pressure. Whenever you have the time is just fine.”

An idea flared. “If you give me your number, I can text you when it’s ready.”

“That works for me.”

Erasing all evidence of the conversation you’d been having, you brought up the number pad, handing your phone over. Paul swiftly typed in his details before placing it back in your palm. ‘Paul the Suit Guy’ the contact read, unable to stifle your laugh.  

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His eager expression made your heart quiver through a beat.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll see you then.”

Paul waved his hand in an awkward flourish to signal his goodbye, eventually moving far enough from your vision for you to finally take a full, relaxed breath. In a dazed hurry, you keyed in your returning message to your co-worker.

It was the precise moment your thumb had pressed into the ‘Send’ button that you realised your recipient wasn’t the one you’d intended.

You’d sent this message straight to Paul.

Fuck. Oh fuck. This was bad.

While you were scrambling to formulate a believable excuse, a new message popped up onto the screen.

Tags for my lovelies who might tolerate this nonsense: @tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @blackberries45 @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynzandtonic @beskarbabs​