#my bed is warm and cozy and one source (my cats) report that it’s the most comfy thing they’ve ever laid on

[ennabear]

mutuals come take a nap with me please nap time starts in 5 minutes be there or be square

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

[katjacksonbooks]

So we’re back on the “What are you polyamorous triad couples up to?” train.

The answer is sex. 

Have a short, hot, mildly emotional check-in with my favorite Baker, Fire Chief and Police Chief in a town so small no one can find it on a map. 

And if you’ve interested in knowing more about how these three met and fell for each other, feel free to read the Welcome to Sea Port series, all $0.99 and in Kindle Unlimited. 

Bedtime Routine

Mary hated sleeping alone.

She hadn’t had to in years, and apparently, she’d been very spoiled by it, so much so that her normally warm and cozy bed seemed big and cold now that she was in it alone instead of pressed against Knox or Santos. Or both, on those nights where she ended up in the middle.

Even Cat-leen had deserted her, but Mary couldn’t blame her. Her cat had an entire late-night routine that as far as Mary could discern included snacking on her food, dumping a few of her toys into her water fountain, and sleeping in Knox’s favorite armchair. Her routine was the same, and she clearly didn’t care that Mary’s wasn’t.

Mary sighed and sat up in bed with a frown. She reached for her cell phone on her bedside table and dialed Knox.

“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he asked instead of hello.

“Shouldn’t you be at home?”

He chuckled softly, and Mary’s back relaxed. She hadn’t even realized it was tense.

“Believe me, I’d much rather be home than sitting in this damn fire station alone,” he said with a yawn.

“No calls, right?” she asked, trying to keep the fear from making her voice shake.

“No calls, sweetheart. This is all just a precaution,” he said.

Mary had heard that last sentence from Knox and Santos so many times over the last month that the words were starting to grate on her, not for any other reason than that eventually, it wouldn’t be a precaution.

It was easy to keep herself together during the day. While Knox and Santos slept, Mary spent hours in their kitchen baking and coordinating food deliveries to houses around town. Now that the bakery was closed, she kept in contact with Bria and Charlie through Facetime. Mary and Bria had split up their baking duties. Bria was working on her bread recipes — including gluten-free, whole wheat, and soon enough, even some sprouted options — while Mary worked on the sweet treats. They were both very busy.

When Willie had first closed the non-essential shops, Mary was worried that her bakery would go under just when it was starting to flourish, but online orders had surged for a while. But as shipping had slowed, she’d shuttered online ordering to focus on local deliveries around Sea Port and in some neighboring local towns. It worked.

At first, Mary was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to find work for Charlie, but the entire food box delivery was Charlie’s idea. They’d all been on Facetime when Bria had said Sully was worried about her own business, and Charlie had asked if Sully still had coffee to sell, because her aunt was running low. Charlie had brokered that sale through text message and then added, “Hey Mary, my aunt wants to know if you can make her some pecan cinnamon rolls. She said she’ll give you her entire SSI check for a pan.”

They’d laughed, and then an entire informal economy had formed, with Charlie as the hub connecting people with groceries — she even managed to rope in the local dairy farm — and recruiting a bunch of bored out-of-school teenagers to collect the items for each boxand deliver them with as little contact as possible. She’d even gotten the mayor to divert some of the gloves and masks she’d been able to buy to the delivery kids once the town implemented stay-at-home orders. Mary had been mildly amused by how nosy Charlie was, but her business — and a bunch of others in the county — would probably ride out the pandemic based almost solely on the fact that Charlie was in literally everyone’s business all the time. Who knew!?

Mary hadn’t ever thought that she’d be living through a pandemic, and a few years ago, she’d have said — if asked this incredibly strange question — that if it happened, she wouldn’t want to be in a small town that no one could find on a map. But now that they were all living through a pandemic, and she was in a tiny dot of a small town, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

She baked all day, and she Facetimed with her friends and family all around the country, coordinating with her great-aunts, Santos’s brothers, and Marcus to make sure that everyone had someone watching over them. And even though Mary still wasn’t talking to her mother like she used to, they’d begun texting daily just to check in, and she acted as the go-between for her parents, fielding her father’s slightly panicked calls about her mother’s wellbeing and then translating them into calm text messages to discern what her mother needed; which her father then promptly either ordered or ran out to the stores to buy and deliver to her door before she even woke up.

Life was stressful, but having something to do — actually, lots of things to do — made the day-to-day of this situation easier. That was the days; the nights were an entirely different story.

There were some great things about being in a relationship with the chief of police and the fire chief. The Sea Port crime rate was mostly bored kids breaking things, breaking into places, or painting graffiti on things, especially now when they didn’t have much to do but sit in virtual classrooms. And while lots of businesses had been hit by the youths, Mary’s bakery hadn’t, and she attributed that primarily to the fact that the entire town knew she was Santos’s girlfriend.

Blessings to the town gossip mill.

And while Knox’s expertise on building codes came in handy, Mary often thought wistfully of the privilege she had to have fucked all over the town’s small firehouse. She loved everything about Knox, but holding onto the fire pole for dear life while he fucked her into a stupor was a surprisingly comforting pre-pandemic memory. Once this was all over, she promised herself that they’d do it again but with Santos this time, and that could usually chase away the blues.

But hands down, the worst part of dating two of the town’s small cadre of first responders, and the heads of their departments at that, was that the mayor only trusted them to work the most stressful shifts. So, while Mary was baking and sourcing ingredients around the town and county, Knox and Santos were usually passed out in their bed. And just when she was winding down for the day, they were showering and putting on their uniforms to head out for the night.

Mary took the smallest comfort that Knox hadn’t had many calls at night, and since there hadn’t been a reported case in Sea Port yet — knock on wood — he was mostly on hand just in case. Santos spent most of his shifts in his car, driving around town and making sure that the bored kids weren’t out causing annoying, if understandable, chaos. Meanwhile, she spent a good portion of the night bored and alone without them, and her traitorous brain started to worry, mostly about their family members and friends who were all over the country.

And she didn’t want to worry about that; she didn’t even want to think about those scenarios. She didn’t want to wonder how they’d get to them or if they could even afford to. She didn’t want to think at night. She wanted to fuck away her anxiety and then sleep like a baby who didn’t even know the word “pandemic”, but she couldn’t.

“That silence sounds like you’re worrying,” Knox said in a light tone that she knew he was affecting to keep her calm.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted.

“Mmmhmm. Hold on.”

Mary frowned as the line went quiet for a few seconds. She stared at her lock screen — a picture of her, Santos, and Knox under her great-aunts’ pecan trees from last Christmas. That picture seemed like a century ago.

“You there?” Knox asked.

“Where would I go?” Mary snarked.

“So you’re in a good mood,” Santos breathed.

Mary smiled at the sound of his dry sarcasm and Knox’s affable chuckle. “Shut up. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Santos breathed in a warm voice. “Just so fucking bored. The middle schoolers don’t even have the decency to be yelling at each other across the street tonight.”

“Don’t say that too loud. I’m sure those little hoodlums can hear you,” Knox said.

“I’m surprised they haven’t tried to get together in the woods,” Mary mused absentmindedly.

Santos sighed, and it was the weariest thing she’d ever heard. They heard the crackle of his radio. “Poole, can you ride out to the Freeman farm?”

“Sure, boss. Am I looking for anything in particular?” Max Poole, Santos’s newly promoted lieutenant asked.

“Yeah. These damn kids. Make sure they aren’t congregating out there.”

“Shit,” Poole breathed.

“Yeah,” Santos said.

“Sorry,” Mary whispered.

Knox burst into a laugh that made Mary’s gut clench with need, not necessarily sexual, just the desire to hear that laughter all over her skin.

“You sure you want to have kids?” Santos asked.

“A whole fucking misbehaving gang of them,” Knox said through his laughter.

“Like a basketball team, or…?” Mary asked.

“Football. Soccer,” Santos corrected.

Mary rolled her eyes, but she was smiling so hard that her eyes were closed. She yawned and settled back onto their mattress. Their bed was still empty, but she burrowed under their blankets and didn’t feel so cold.

“We should get started soon, then,” Mary hummed.

“You been talking to Ms. Pearl?” Knox asked.

“Yes,” Mary said, “but Santos’s mom is apparently working on a christening dress? It’s very frilly.”

Santos muttered under his breath. Mary’s Spanish was terrible, even though she’d been working on it now that she had a little more free time, but even she knew what “dios mio” meant.

“Well, since we’re starting, let’s start,” Knox said.

“Pretty sure we need to be together for that to work,” Santos said.

Mary could just imagine him rolling his eyes and Knox rolling his eyes in return.

“Practice makes perfect,” Knox said. “What are you wearing, sweetheart?”

Mary squinted her eyes shut in excitement. “Shorts and a t-shirt,” she said, already wriggling out of the former.

“What would you be doing if we were there?” Knox asked. His voice wasn’t warm or soothing anymore, it was hot with seduction and promise. He knew exactly what he was doing when his voice sounded like that; the way it turned them on.

“What would you want me to do?” she asked. She’d already bent her legs to plant her feet on the mattress and spread her knees wide. She was stroking her pussy, her fingers lightly tracing up one lip to circle her clit and then down the other to play at her opening.

“Santos?” Knox asked.

He grunted in response. Mary wondered if he was stroking his dick through his pants or if he’d taken himself out.

“Use your words,” Knox said. His breath had quickened, and somehow, Mary knew that alone in the firehouse, he’d dispensed with the foreplay and was probably already stroking himself like Mary was.

The line was quiet for a bit as they waited for Santos. “Get your toy,” he finally said.

Mary licked her lips and pressed a finger into her pussy to the first knuckle. “Please be more specific,” she huffed.

Knox’s laughter was thin, airy. He sounded close, and that made Mary’s breaths quicken.

“I want to be inside you,” Santos breathed.

Mary pushed another finger inside herself. “God, be more specific,” she moaned.

“I don’t need to,” Santos said. The sound of his zipper was loud through their connection.

Knox grunted.

Mary smiled at the sound of them. “So I should choose?” she teased with a tinkle of laughter.

They both grunted this time, and she laughed. She tapped at her phone screen with her free hand to put their call on speaker and then practically ripped open the closest bedside table. She sighed, only finding lube and Santos’s reading glasses.

“Wrong drawer,” she mumbled. Knox and Santos were apparently too preoccupied to answer. She rolled to the other side of the bed and pulled open the drawer to find a bullet vibe. She personally would have preferred something long and thick, but beggars can’t be picky, especially not when the sound of one of her men spitting into his hand came through the phone.

“You two better not come without me,” she warned, licking the cool metal of the bullet and then settling back onto the bed.

“Did you get a vibrator?” Santos asked in a strained voice.

“Yeah, just a bullet, though.”

Santos grunted unhappily.

“Can we stay on track, please?” Knox asked.

“Oh yeah, yeah,” she said, spreading her legs again.

Mary slid her thumb across the slide to turn the vibrator on and settled the bullet over her clit. She arched her back and moaned happily. Santos grunted again, but it was Knox’s keening moan that made her nipples hard.

“Fuck,” she breathed and shoved her fingers back into her pussy.

The room filled with the hum of Mary’s vibrator, her moans, and the slightly distorted sounds of Santos and Knox’s moans as well as the gentle rasp of their hands on their own bodies. They fucked themselves together, moaning and grunting and panting, while they thought about finally being together; dreamed about what it would be like when this was all over, and they could get back to something like normal.

“I’m close,” Knox breathed.

So was Mary, but she slowed down and took the pressure of the bullet off her clit, sliding it across her lips in gentle strokes. She moved her head closer to the phone so she could hear every scrap of sound of Knox’s orgasm. She knew Santos well enough to guess that he’d probably done the same.

And Knox did not disappoint. He never did.

His heaving breaths turned to moans as the sound of his dick fucking his fist got louder and faster, more desperate. “Fuck,” he said and then groaned long and loud.

Santos was much tamer. He always was. But as soon as Knox’s groan subsided, there was a shuffle of fabric on his end of the phone and then a series of grunts.

Mary had never stopped fucking herself with her fingers, and the wet slap of her hand against her sex was as frantic as her nerves had been just a few minutes ago.

“Now you,” Santos said, having the nerve to give her orders when he could barely speak above a whisper.

Mary might have pushed back at him, but Knox didn’t give her the room.

“You heard the man,” he ground out. “Let me hear how you’re going to come on my dick as soon as I’m home.”

Not that she needed the encouragement, but she really fucking loved when Santos got demanding and Knox talked dirty to her. She didn’t even need to move the bullet back to her clit to come. She arched her back, cried out, and then when her legs were shaking, she turned the bullet vibe all the way up to the highest setting and moved it over her clit. Her orgasm transformed from a gentle shudder to a violent shake as she gushed all over her hand.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, she was certain that one, or maybe even both Knox and Santos had grunted out another small release along with her, but she was too far gone to be sure. They were mostly quiet on the phone as Mary wrung herself out, alternating between just her fingers and then the vibrator as well to let one orgasm roll into another and then another.

Her men listened in silence as she came and came, only stopping when the batteries on her vibrator began to give out.

Mary turned over in bed, her fingers still stuffed inside her clenching pussy, and her eyes drifting closed.

She yawned, and Knox laughed, “Well, we got that part down. Next on the list is actually getting in the bed together, and then this baby-making thing can get on the way.”

Mary smiled and yawned again. “Deal. I’m tired now.”

“Good,” Santos said. “Go to sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Leave your clothes in the mudroom,” she said, a sharp shot of panic pulling her back into consciousness.

“We know, babe. Calm down,” Knox said calmly. “Go to sleep, and maybe I’ll wake you up with my tongue.”

Mary pumped her fingers in and out of her sex and began to drift again. “I’d like that,” she remembered saying as she fell soundly to sleep.

[sending-the-message]

Bless You by griseldaraven

I was over today and all the bullshit that came with it. I barely had enough time to stuff a sandwich into my mouth between all of the phone calls, emails, and unscheduled meetings we were receiving from frantic parents for the beginning of school. It’s not like they or everyone at the main office hadn’t been through the process many times before.

I kicked off my shoes at the door, groaning as my cramped feet slipped out of the tiny heels I had been wearing all day and touched the cool wood floor.

Miles, my overweight tabby cat, sauntered up to me rubbing at the bottom of pants begging for some pets.

“Did my big boy miss me?” I cooed as I bent over and scratched behind his ears eliciting more headbutts to my open hand.

I looked around my apartment I rented by myself. It represented me well, calm and cozy with soft warm colors decorating most of the apartment. It was a perfect setting to be lazy all day which is just how I like it.

The papers I had sitting on my coffee table were scattered on the floor along with a decorative wooden ball from the center piece of the table. I gave Miles the stink eye and went over to collect the items off the floor placing them back where they were before.

“C’mon you goober.” I waved to Miles. “Let’s make us some dinner.”

I made a simple pasta, having no desire to put much effort into my dinner and gave Miles some food from the cat bag. I poured myself a glass of wine and settled into the couch. 20/20 was on and I quickly became engrossed in the story unfolding before me of rape on a college campus. Nothing like coming home to watching a few entitled assholes being thrown in jail. I flipped through some of the papers I was supposed to review, switching my attention back and forth between the two tasks for a couple of hours.

I heard a creak come from the back bedroom and looked behind to find the tail end of Miles disappearing into my bedroom.

A soft, almost distant meow floated down the hall and into the living room. Miles suddenly erupted into a slew of meows that were guttural and quick like he does when he has a ‘gift’ for me before they turned into hisses.

“Shut up!” I yelled having a hard time hearing the tv over him. He ignored my request and after a few moments I huffed, shuffling to my bedroom to see what he wanted.

“What’s your problem dude?” I leaned down and patted his back hoping to stop his distress but with no avail. He sat in the corner of my room, staring towards my bed and the window next to it. I squinted, hoping a rat or no other creepy crawler was hanging out over there. I did a sweep of the rest of the room and found nothing that could possibly elicit such a strong reaction from my usually quiet cat. I shook my head and swept Miles up, taking him back to the living room with me and forced him to watch the next episode of 20/20.

The episode had just ended, leaving me simmering in anger, when a FaceTime call from my best friend, Tara, came in. Her and her daughters face popped up onto the phone screen and their two large smiles had me smiling back.

“Hi my love.” I waved at the one year old as she tried to grab at the phone. She gave a laugh and tried for the phone again.

“How was work today?” Tara asked after laying the baby down into the crib.

“Hell. I swear parents are so worrisome for no reason. We had three parents show up today, without a scheduled appointment might I add, and proceeded to question if the handbook was done so they would know what clothes they could buy for their kids and how the enlarged budget for sports was going to be used.”

“Aw, don’t you love working with schools? Such tranquility.” We both laughed knowing how hectic the beginning of school could be.

“Did you see the news today?”

“No.” I answered honestly, taking another sip of wine.

“They said there was a big storm coming our way so all types of critters are going to try and seek shelter from it. So make sure to close your windows tonight. Can you imagine waking up to a cockroach or centipede chillin’ on your face? Nasty!”

“Ew.” I scrunched my face in disgust at that thought. “Guess I’ll have to get my fan out tonight. Hopefully I can find it.”

“It’s definitely somewhere, you hoarder. What is Miles doing back there?” She asked interrupting her line of thought and her eyes trained behind me towards my hallway. “I can see his shadow running back in forth in your room all crazy.”

“What do you mean? He’s sitting right here next to me?” I tipped the phone down showing her the blob sitting in my lap.

“Oh, it’s probably just the trees outside of your window. The wind has already picked up bad. All the shit in our backyard is everywhere.”

I shook my head in disapproval as if the wind was a child that was being scolded. I was about to ask how her day was when a loud wail sounded through the phone.

“Shit, I got to go Em is crying. I’ll talk you tomorrow. Love ya.” She puckered her lips and gave an air kiss before hanging up. I sat there for a moment, the phone sitting firmly in my hand as I stared blankly at the tv. The hairs on my neck stood up and Tara’s statement creeped into my mind.

I slowly turned my head looking over my shoulder and stared down the hall at my bedroom. There were shadows dancing on the floor looking like they were coming from inside the room. I craned my head further to get a better look and saw the shadows resembled branches and leaves swaying in the wind. I sighed in relief, shaking my head for letting Tara freak me out.

Although I loved living alone, I sometimes found my imagination running wild whenever I hear a creak or noise that is out of place.

I turned up the volume on the tv again not wanting my thoughts to wonder and switched to the local news channel. If this storm was bad enough we may not be able to make it to work tomorrow. So sad. Thank you Claire.

Todd, a local news reporter stood in the middle of a dark street in a hoodie and rain boots.

Good evening! As you can see the morning clouds and drizzle have intensified over the course of the day and are expected to bring in multiple inches of rain in the next few hours and continue throughout tomorrow morning. We are expecting road and lane closure beginning tonight and the possibility of flooding. Temperatures are predicted to fall in the next few hours with lows in the mid 40’s and highs in the low 50’s. As we continue to monitor this storm, we encourage all to use extreme caution when travelling. And remember, turn around, don’t drown. Back to you Claire.

“Did you hear that miles? Sounds like it’s gonna be a doozy tomorrow. I may not even make it to work.” I walked back to the kitchen and sat my bowl in the sink. I grabbed a cookie from the jar and stared at the bottle of wine contemplating if I should pour myself another glass.

In other news, a recent string of break ins has had the-

“I think I deserve another glass if I do say so myself.” I decided, grabbing another cookie and pouring myself another glass.

It has been the 8th reported one in the last two months. Police are urging citizens to lock all windows and doors when away from-

I stuffed the empty wine bottle into the trash and stuffed one of the cookies in my mouth when I heard a loud bang resonate from the back of the apartment. I jumped and grabbed my chest, my heart beating wildly as I tried to find the source of the noise.

A loud clap of thunder shook the apartment and a quick burst of lighting followed, causing the power to cut out and leaving the apartment shrouded in darkness. I walked to the back bathroom peering in and finding the small plant I kept on the windowsill broken on the ground. Another strike of thunder and lightning came again, giving a quick illumination of the apartment.

I cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could with the light on my phone and resumed my position back on the couch watching the storm unfold outside. An unsettling whistle noise ripped through the house as the wind began to blow harder outside making the whole setting more unsettling than usual.

I finished my glass of wine and cookie and decided to call it a night in case the weather predictions were wrong and I had to go to work anyway. Miles followed me around as I cleaned up and did my nighttime routine in the bathroom before plopping down into his own bed in the living room.

I slid into my bed, the sheets cool on my exposed skin. I settled back onto the pillow and looked out into the darkness. It looked as if most of the block lost power. Even the streetlights along the street were out making the night devoid of any light. I could hear Mile’s as he used the litter box on the other side of the apartment and listened to the beating of the rain on the window. I stared into the darkness, my imagination beginning to create shapes as I thought back to the report about little creatures trying to get into buildings to find safety.

My eyes slowly grew heavy as the shapes of animals danced behind my eyelids. Just as I was falling asleep, a small sneeze built up in my nose and escaped suddenly. I sneezed once more before swiping my nose with my finger and closing my eyes again. From the dark corner of my room, slicing through the thick silence, came a low, gravelly voice in a harsh whisper.

“Bless you.”