#services for older adults living at home

[elderfirst]

Services for Older Adults Living at Home - Elder First

Delve into a world of specialized support and companionship with our range of services for older adults living at home in Bhopal. From personalized care to essential assistance, we're dedicated to fostering independence and well-being every step of the way. Explore our comprehensive offerings today! #ServicesForOlderAdultsLivingAtHome #SeniorCare #IndependentLiving

[luulapants]

Adding into the discussion of the incarcerated young people fighting fires in California:

I can think of no place worse than prison for emotionally stunting or regressing a person or for dismantling their ability to make good decisions.

You take an adult or child who maybe has exhibited some antisocial behaviors, right? So you remove them from whatever community and support network they have, put enormous financial and logistical barriers between them and any communication with that community. Incarcerate them hours from home in a place not accessible by train or plane with narrow visiting hours that conflict with people's work schedules, and maybe you're fighting to prevent in person visits at all, maybe you got a kickback from a company selling expensive video call visits so people can't even hug their kids when they drive 6 hours on a Wednesday to see them. Get a kickback from a phone service provider that's going to charge extortionate prices for every minute a person spends talking to their loved ones, and if the state passes a law saying you can't do that anymore, pivot and go after the mail. Subvert USPS. Get a kickback from a company that'll give prisoners shitty scans of letters or refuse to deliver it because it was flagged for drug contamination by a machine with a 70% false positive rate, force them instead to send texts at extortionate rates through their proprietary app.

Put them in an environment with a bunch of other people with social issues and force them to compete for resources. Give them no mental healthcare. If they are victimized by other prisoners, punish the victims with solitary confinement. Transfer people around so they can't form meaningful long-term friendships. Tell them that once they get out, it will be illegal for them to talk to any of the people they meet here.

Hire guards who have no qualifications other than a willingness to be a modern day slave overseer or the ignorance to not realize that's what it is, give them complete control over every aspect of other people's lives and tell them those people want to kill them and that any object can be covered in drugs so dangerous that touching them can kill. Allow the guards to traffic drugs into the prison with impunity. Have the guards discourage racial mixing because racial conflict in the prison means the prisoners won't join up against the staff.

You do all of this and you ask if a 20-year-old, who's been in the system since 14, is emotionally mature or psychologically healthy enough to choose to risk their life in exchange for slightly better living arrangements.

You take someone who has probably made some bad decisions, right? And you put them in a place where every detail of every day is decided for them: what they eat, when they eat, when they sleep, where they sleep, what clothes they wear, who they talk to, where they work. Or maybe you give them big decisions that have no right answer. Maybe at the start of the day, you open the cells and they have 10 minutes to decide if they want to be stuck in their cell all day - no shower, no recreation, no library - or go outside and be stuck in genpop all day - no napping, no alone time, no escape if someone is hassling you. You let them decide if they're going to eat breakfast at 3am (because there's too many meal shifts) or sleep in and spend their precious commissary funds on toaster strudel (they have no toaster) or sleep in and not eat even though you're barely giving them 1000 calories a day. You let them start to make decisions about how to spend their day, then you put them on lockdown, take all those decisions away.

You do all this and then you ask if anyone who's spent time in this environment has the decision-making skills to choose to risk their life in exchange for slightly better living arrangements.

All of the incarcerated firefighters in California are 18 or older, and all of them volunteered, but there is no world in which they were adequately prepared to make that decision.

[reasonsforhope]

"Vice President Kamala Harris is proposing to provide federal funding to cover home care costs for older Americans, aiming to help the “ sandwich generation " of adults caring for aging parents while raising their children at the same time.

Appearing Tuesday on ABC’s “The View,” Harris talked about taking care of her mother when she was dying and personally experiencing the challenges many families face when seeking affordable in-home care for their aging loved ones.

She promised that if, elected in November, she will seek to expand Medicare, the federal health insurance program for older Americans, so that it covers long-term care and includes services like in-home aides. Harris said aides could help seniors do things as simple as preparing meals or putting on sweaters because it is “about dignity for that individual. It’s about independence for that individual.”

Her proposal is a new one just a month out from Election Day but the issue is one that President Joe Biden's administration has been working on for years.

In an effort to soften the effects of inflation, the White House promoted as part of Build Back Better, its legislative agenda that stalled on Capitol Hill years ago, steeply increased federal spending for child care as well as for seniors. After Build Back Better collapsed, the Biden administration continued to promote increasing spending for what it calls “the care economy,” a cause Harris has continued to mention after replacing Biden at the top of the Democratic ticket.

“These plans are common sense. They can help family caregivers work and save both families and the federal government money by allowing seniors to stay in their homes instead of being sent to nursing homes,” the Harris campaign said in a fact sheet detailing her proposal. “Medicare at Home will also reduce hospitalizations.”

As part of a blitz of media interviews she’s been doing in recent days, Harris sat down after her appearance on “The View” with radio personality Howard Stern, who said that his mother is 97. Taking care of an elderly parent, he said, “will bankrupt you.”

Such costs have increased pressure on adults caring for their parents and kids simultaneously. In 2019, roughly 30% of family caregivers of older Americans lived in households that included children or grandchildren, according to AARP.

Harris would likely have to work with Congress to achieve key parts of her proposal. Harris’ campaign points to past, similar proposals projected to cost $40 billion annually, but says much of that can be offset by savings achieved through efforts begun by the Biden administration to expand Medicare’s ability to negotiation prices with major drug manufacturers.

Harris is also promising to further expand Medicare to include hearing and vision coverage, while changing existing rules that can allow federal authorities to seize a deceased beneficiary’s home to recuperate costs. [Note: I'm sorry the current rules fucking what] The campaign fact sheet says that practice “means that those homes are not passed on to the seniors’ children, which particularly harms rural and minority families.”"

-via AP News, October 8, 2024

[slyandthefamilybook]

since we now know that all those "my blog is safe for Jewish people" posts are bullshit, here are some Jewish organizations you can donate to if you actually want to prove you support Jews. put up or shut up

FIGHTING HUNGER

Masbia - Kosher soup kitchens in New York

MAZON - Practices and promotes a multifaceted approach to hunger relief, recognizing the importance of responding to hungry peoples' immediate need for nutrition and sustenance while also working to advance long-term solutions

Tomchei Shabbos - Provides food and other supplies so that poor Jews can celebrate the Sabbath and the Jewish holidays

FINANCIAL AID

Ahavas Yisrael - Providing aid for low-income Jews in Baltimore

Hebrew Free Loan Society - Provides interest-free loans to low-income Jews in New York and more

GLOBAL AID

American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee - Offers aid to Jewish populations in Central and Eastern Europe as well as in the Middle East through a network of social and community assistance programs. In addition, the JDC contributes millions of dollars in disaster relief and development assistance to non-Jewish communities

American Jewish World Service - Fighting poverty and advancing human rights around the world

Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society - Providing aid to immigrants and refugees around the world

Jewish World Watch - Dedicated to fighting genocides around the world

MEDICAL AID

Sharsheret - Support for cancer patients, especially breast cancer

SOCIAL SERVICES

The Aleph Institute - Provides support and supplies for Jews in prison and their families, and helps Jewish convicts reintegrate into society

Bet Tzedek - Free legal services in LA

Bikur Cholim - Providing support including kosher food for Jews who have been hospitalized in the US, Australia, Canada, Brazil, and Israel

Blue Card Fund - Critical aid for holocaust survivors

Chai Lifeline - An org that's very close to my heart. They help families with members with disabilities in Baltimore

Chana - Support network for Jews in Baltimore facing domestic violence, sexual abuse, and elder abuse

Community Alliance for Jewish-Affiliated Cemetaries - Care of abandoned and at-risk Jewish cemetaries

Crown Heights Central Jewish Community Council - Provides services to community residents including assistance to the elderly, housing, employment and job training, youth services, and a food bank

Hands On Tzedakah - Supports essential safety-net programs addressing hunger, poverty, health care and disaster relief, as well as scholarship support to students in need

Hebrew Free Burial Association

Jewish Board of Family and Children's Services - Programs include early childhood and learning, children and adolescent services, mental health outpatient clinics for teenagers, people living with developmental disabilities, adults living with mental illness, domestic violence and preventive services, housing, Jewish community services, counseling, volunteering, and professional and leadership development

Jewish Caring Network - Providing aid for families facing serious illnesses

Jewish Family Service - Food security, housing stability, mental health counseling, aging care, employment support, refugee resettlement, chaplaincy, and disability services

Jewish Relief Agency - Serving low-income families in Philadelphia

Jewish Social Services Agency - Supporting people’s mental health, helping people with disabilities find meaningful jobs, caring for older adults so they can safely age at home, and offering dignity and comfort to hospice patients

Jewish Women's Foundation Metropolitan Chicago - Aiding Jewish women in Chicago

Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty - Crisis intervention and family violence services, housing development funds, food programs, career services, and home services

Misaskim - Jewish death and burial services

Our Place - Mentoring troubled Jewish adolescents and to bring awareness of substance abuse to teens and children

Tiferes Golda - Special education for Jewish girls in Baltimore

Yachad - Support for Jews with disabilities

[katakaluptastrophy]

Oh no now I'm thinking about the Fourth and the Fifth again and how Jod's awful colonial space feudalism poisons everything.

You are four or five years old. Maybe you're Isaac and you never knew your dad, only that he died at enemy hands in some far flung campaign and six years later you were made to ensure an heir for the baronetcy. Or you're Jeannemary and your mother defied orders, went beyond the rim, and jumped on a grenade. If either of you have surviving parents, they're not considered sufficiently important in this great process of ensuring a suitable heir with a suitable cavalier to keep you. There is no Baron until Isaac comes of age, and the leader of a House needs to be properly trained. You are four or five years old, and you are sent away.

You're five year old Jeannemary. You're not yet sworn to your necromancer, but you've been promised to him since birth and you've been sent away from your planet and your siblings to serve him. You are your generation's Chatur and this is your purpose. And when the cavalier primary of the House you have been sent to sees a little child struggling to see over the table at a reception and props you up with a cushion, you challenge him to a duel. You don't understand why all the adults are laughing. Your honour and your necromancer are all you have left of home. Far away, at the edge of the system, Harrowhark Nonagesimus decides that puppeting her parents' corpses as her House collapses around her is a better fate than yours. At night you are tucked into bed in a room that you don't have to share with any siblings and the man who is looking after you now reads to you from a book of adventure stories and strokes your hair until you fall asleep.

You're nine year old Isaac, swearing to be one flesh, one end with your cavalier in a foreign chapel on a foreign planet. You go to school. The woman who is not quite but almost your mother is helping you to discover spirit magic far beyond the thanergy fission you would have learned at home. She is teaching you to cook and to dance. She tells you that the parts of you which back home would have been considered flaws are your greatest strengths. You have friends and playmates who will never be on the front lines, whose parents write books or engrave stele or organise the bounty of empire from ledgers and transmitter boxes. You are loved and you love, but you are beginning to understand that love comes with a cost.

You are 13 year old Jeannemary. You are back on the Fourth and after last year's bombing you are now cavalier primary. As far as you are concerned, you are grown and ready to serve god and his empire. And you have been denied twice. You don't understand why the people who love you are going to such lengths to stop you from doing what you were born to do or why they have always looked so upset when glorious news comes from home about how someone you would have grown up with, had you not been sent away, has given the ultimate service to the empire. You are cavalier primary of the Fourth House and you fear you are still being propped up on cushions.

You are Isaac Tettares and you are Baron of a planet you spent most of your childhood away from. Everyone else your age long ago shipped out with the Junior Territorials. You are the Baron of a planet but you are not in charge and you have come to understand that your father wasn't in charge either. You love the closest thing you have to parents and they love you. You miss them terribly. You resent the fact that thanks to them you will never truly lead the Fourth. There is talk of a marriage alliance when you are older. You want to be family with them. You don't entirely believe you'll live long enough to marry him when you come of age. And if you do, your half Fifth children will be another crack in what's left of the Fourth House. You miss you dad's stupid jokes and your mum's earnest discussions. You're free of their meddling. You will never be free of their meddling.

You are Jeannemary and Isaac, properly off planet and on display as scion and cavalier for the first time, offered an unimaginable chance to serve god and his empire. You crave the security of your parents. You chafe at the idea that you might be perceived as children. But for a little while you are all together again. You are planning a party. You are making friends. You will all serve the empire together. Perhaps, when you are the fingers and gestures of god, none of these differences will matter any more.

They die horribly. And later so do you. God doesn't care.

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it! 

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[lushrue]

cold beer on a friday night

heard "a little bit of chicken fried" in a white people anthems compilation the other day and i immediately started thinking of everyone’s favorite southern boy, phillip graves! so have some good ol’ cowboy smut for your weekend! (also did not expect this to be almost 4k words, but here we are)

afab!reader (she/her pronouns used), nsfw, minors dni!!

cw: drinking, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, creampie, heavy praise kink

the bar was pretty packed, but you expected that it would be.

living in a military town, you’d learned when the busy times were. weekends, most evenings after 8 PM, and holidays. this one was the biggest one of all in your community, fourth of july looming around the corner and bringing star-spangled festivity with it. the bar itself was adorned with an american flag banner that people would occasionally toast to before taking a shot. the string lights above the patio had been changed from their pale yellow to shine red, white, and blue. occasionally, as you sat there drinking your cheap beer, someone would break out in a drunken rendition of the star-spangled banner, causing everyone to either sing along or raise their glass in solidarity.

it was entertaining for you, if nothing else. watching men who’d made their country their whole lives celebrate it was its own brand of inspiring. the town felt the same around memorial day and veteran’s day too. you’d been pretty staunchly anti-military for most of your adult life, holding the belief in world peace that only someone who hadn’t experienced war could. but seeing these men who wouldn’t have known each other if not for their brotherhood of service expressing their love for their country, it almost made you want to believe in their cause. still, despite the atmosphere, patriotism wasn’t the foremost thing in your mind tonight.

you weren’t expecting to find the love of your life, not in a place like this. it was hardly the fairytale castle you’d envisioned as a little girl and the men here were certainly no prince charming. all you could ask for was someone to treat you right for a night. focus on you a little bit, take his time. if you got real lucky, maybe he’d even make you cum. the proverbial bar wasn’t in hell, but it was close enough to feel the flames. it’d been months since your deadbeat of an ex-boyfriend dumped you, and despite how bad of an idea your friends had told you it was, you were looking for a rebound. nothing serious or long-term, just a good fuck to set you right and then you could be on your way. it was hard to get anywhere in the dating scene with this insatiable ache between your legs.

you nursed your budweiser, the condensation leaking between your fingertips as you took a drink from the bottle. it tasted like piss, but like everyone always says, you don’t drink for the taste. weary eyes scan the bar and its patrons, looking for anyone who isn’t already fall-on-their-face drunk. it was slim pickins; almost everyone here had started their evening of debauchery hours ago with no signs of stopping. the sober ones were mostly grizzled veterans, watching the younger soldiers with a glint of something akin to nostalgia. you supposed that must have been them once, disregarding their livers for a night of fun with buddies that they could lose in an instant. they certainly wouldn’t be scratching your itch for you anytime soon, so your gaze moved on. 

finally, your eyes settled on a blond man sitting by himself at a high top. you’d seen him here before a couple of times. he was always alone, on the fringes of whatever drunken activity was going on. you’d never seen him so much as stumble while he was here, downing his couple of whiskeys in peace before closing out and heading home. he was handsome, you supposed. older than you, but not enough to make anyone clutch their pearls. muscular, scar on his cheek. still clearly military, but a bit more weathered than the twenty-somethings throwing back jaegerbombs.

little did you know, he’d seen you too. he’d seen how you came every weekend, like clockwork, looking like you were begging for company. it was sweet, he thought, how desperate you were for attention. you were like a puppy with those doe eyes of yours. just begging to be noticed, to be taken into someone’s arms and loved proper. he was sure you tasted as sweet as you looked. just as your eyes met his, you looked away with a blush. had he caught you staring? you couldn’t be sure. you cursed yourself for your bashfulness, clutching the neck of your beer bottle a little tighter. how were you ever going to get laid if you didn’t go for it?

luckily, your military man wasn’t one to wait around. he got up from his table, sauntering towards you with a confidence that was completely innate. this wasn’t born of liquid courage. no, he knew he had something you wanted. you clear your throat and look up as he lays his hand on the chair across from you. “this seat taken?” he asked, his voice slow and easy like he wasn’t in a hurry. nobody was around here, you supposed. you shake your head no and he takes it as an invitation. the chair pulled out with a squeaking noise drowned out by someone breaking out into “my country 'tis of thee.”

you take another swig of beer to loosen your tongue and give you some charisma that you wouldn’t have sober. the man held his hand out to you, his tumbler full of amber in the other. “i’m phillip. you can call me phil.” you take his hand without a second thought, shaking politely. god, how bad off were you if touching a man’s hand made you practically feral? you give your name in reply, withdrawing your hand before your mind runs off with unsavory images. the last thing you needed was to scare off the one eligible bachelor in the bar who’d seen fit to approach you. a cursory glance at his left hand revealed no wedding ring. you weren’t looking to add “homewrecker” to your long list of accomplishments.

“what’s a lovely lady like you doin’ all by herself?” he asked in a charming southern drawl that made your blood pump a little faster. it reminded you of those cheap cowboy romance novels that you sometimes indulged in. everyone had their guilty pleasures, after all. “enjoyin’ the atmosphere,” you quip back, sarcasm dripping from your words. you take another drink of beer. phil leans forward, his weight shifting to his muscular forearms. your eyes drop down, struggling not to salivate at the sight. it really had been too long. he tips a finger under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to him. “i think the atmosphere’d be better someplace else,” he said, his voice low so as not to be overheard. maybe it was just how pent up you were, but you could swear there was desire undercutting his words. “whaddya say, darlin’? how ‘bout you and me get on outta here?”

you have to stop yourself from replying too quickly. you didn’t want to show your hand and reveal your desperation just yet. he smirked when you nodded slowly, your muscles tense with the effort of holding back your excitement. didn’t you know he could smell it on you from across the bar? ever the gentleman, phil closed out both your tabs. there wasn’t much on yours anyways, just a couple of budweisers and one vodka cranberry that you’d stopped drinking halfway through. as you stood beside him at the bar, watching the bartender run his card, he wrapped his arm around your waist. his fingers dug into the plush of your hip with a subtle possessiveness meant to ward off any other interested parties. it sent a thrill through you, your panties getting more uncomfortable the longer you stood there.

thankfully, the cool night air outside the bar leveled your head a bit. not enough to make you think deeply about your decision to get into a strange man’s truck, but enough to keep you from jumping his bones the moment the door shut. you climbed up into the passenger seat, feeling for your pepper spray in your purse. just in case, you told yourself. handsome men could be creeps too. you barely noticed him getting into the driver’s seat, turning the engine over and pulling out of the gravel parking lot.

you two make it maybe five miles down the road before you have to stop. you keep throwing glances at phil, watching his concentration while he drives. you’ve never been able to explain it, but there’s something so sexy about a man with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. he keeps kneading into the fat, fingertips brushing the muscle underneath with how hard he’s squeezing. you’re soft, he thinks. plush, pliant, perfect. the air is charged, the silence comfortable but tinged with the anticipation of what’s to come. it’s when he feels your thighs clench together that he pulls off onto a little dirt road, the tires kicking up dust. on some level, you’re grateful for his lack of restraint. you weren’t sure you were going to last much longer either.

you clamber into his backseat, careful not to mar the leather with your stiletto heels. he climbs back there with you, settling into the seat and patting his thigh. “c’mere, pretty girl,” he says sweetly, and you maneuver yourself to straddle his lap. the heat of your cunt is right against him now and his hands clench around your hips. he can practically smell how needy you are. you bite your lip to stifle a whine, the firmness of him through his jeans providing delicious pressure on your clit. suddenly, you’re thanking god for little red dresses. phillip’s eyes flutter shut as he bucks his hips, pressing his erection against you a little harder. that elicits the sound he wanted and he chuckles, his laugh like rolling thunder.

“it’s been too long since that pretty pussy’s had any attention, huh, sweetheart?” he asks. you can hear a tone of condescension, but you don’t care. not when there is a warm body beneath you about to soothe the ache that’s been there since your ex moved out. you nod in response and he hums, tugging the straps of your dress down. “in a minute, darlin’. i’ll get to her later. there’s other parts of you i’d like to get acquainted with first.” you’re putty in his hands, mindlessly nodding along with everything he says. he could tell you he’s taking you out in the woods to kill you and you’d be fine with it as long as he fucked you first. the top half of your dress falls away as he tugs at the zipper, pulling it down just enough to reveal your chest. you’d made a good choice of bra that night at least: your favorite black push-up with lace all over and a pretty bow in the center. he sucks air in through his teeth as he stares at you. he likes it too.

“as pretty as this little number is, i don’t wanna ruin it,” he says, his fingers ghosting down your spine to the clasp of your bra. your back arches, pushing your breasts forward. he smiles and unhooks it with practiced ease, sliding the straps all the way down your arms and easing them over your hands. fire blazes a trail down your skin behind his touch, your face flushing a pretty shade of pink. the bra hits the leather seat to the left of you, but you don’t have time to see where it went. phillip’s hands are on your chest, kneading into your tits the same way he did your thigh. you moan, your head falling back as you lose yourself in the euphoria of being touched. “that’s it, baby. god, these tits are so perfect. fit in my hands so nicely.” he brushes his thumb over one of your nipples, making it stiffen. your nose scrunches, the thrill from the contact going straight between your legs.

before you can say anything in reply, the warmth of his mouth is latched around your breast, his tongue teasing at the hardened bud in the center. you swear you could cry as relief washes over you. you’d found what you were looking for, finally. god was real, and he came in the form of phillip graves. while he sucked at one nipple, he teased the other with his fingers, rolling it and giving it the occasional flick. already you could feel the pleasure tightening in your core, threatening to push you over the edge if you thought too hard about everything he was doing. your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing friction against his lap. one of his large hands moves down to hold you in place, his mouth releasing your breast with a pop. “all in due time, sweetness. you’re not in a rush, now, are ya?” you shake your head, eyes wide as you stare back at him.

“good. ‘cause i intend to take my time and enjoy ya.” thankfully, he moves on from your breasts to other, more neglected areas of your body. he unzips your dress like he’s unwrapping god’s gift to earth, reverent as his eyes rake across every inch of exposed flesh. the glint in his eyes is primal, animalistic. he’d devour you if given the chance. despite the awkwardness, you shimmy your dress off, your heels falling off your feet with it. it all falls to the floor in a heap, leaving you in nothing but your panties. always one for fairness, phillip unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the side before catching your lips. his hand snakes up your back to hold your head in place, the other winding around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. your chest presses against his and he moans into your mouth at the feeling.

slowly, that hand around your waist starts to sneak down, edging closer to the waistband of your underwear. you don’t notice, too enraptured by the taste of whiskey on his tongue. you feel it when his hand slides against you, though. the kiss is broken by your gasp, the simple proximity of his fingers enough to make your hips roll down in search of pleasure. the thunder in his chest rumbles again, the hand on the back of your head tightening. “that’s what you really wanted tonight, isn’t it? someone to give this pretty cunt what it’s been achin’ for.” words don’t come. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his skin to string together syntax. phillip’s fingers wind around your hair, tugging at it roughly. your head jerks back and you whine. that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. “gotta use your words, baby girl. gotta tell me what you want or i’m gonna stop.” no, you didn’t want that. “t-touch me,” you manage to stutter out, your neck bent at an awkward angle by the force of his hand. he lets go, rubbing his thumb over the scalp he’d irritated. “good girl. you follow orders well.”

his fingers run along your slit, gathering your wetness on his digits. he smiles, his voice dropping a register as he leans in closer to you. “so desperate, baby. i can feel how needy you are. just a bitch in heat, ain’tcha?” you keen, your head nodding of its own accord. deep in your subconscious, you knew he was right. some part of you wanted to be ashamed, but it wasn’t strong enough to fight to the forefront. all you felt was burning need coursing through your veins and leaking out between your legs. he pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices off of them. the sight of his face made you moan. he looked like a man enjoying his last meal, eyes shut and a content smile on his face. “delicious,” he said softly, bringing that same hand up to your face. he cups your cheek and runs his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused hand.

phillip guides your mouth towards his, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it’s all tongues and teeth, desperate, messy. you can taste yourself on him, the salty remnants of you left behind on his tongue. while he has you distracted with his mouth, he lowers his hand between your legs, tugging your panties to the side. black and lacy, just like the bra. he liked a girl with a sense of style. without warning, two of his fingers thrust into you, making you see stars. you moan into his mouth as he scissors you open, preparing you for him. his mouth leaves yours, leaning to the side to whisper in your ear. “gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you, baby? gonna take it like the whore you are. so fuckin’ needy.”

his words made you blush, heat rushing to your core. he starts pumping his fingers in and out, holding you in place by the scruff of your neck. you writhe as much as you’re able, your body overwhelmed by all the sensations he was providing you. he chuckles lowly in your ear, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “i know you will, darlin’. i know you will. that pretty cunt is just swallowin’ my fingers. she’s a greedy little thing, ain’t she?” you couldn’t respond. it was hard enough for your brain to convert the sounds into meaningful words, let alone formulate a response. you were practically mute, save for the whimpers and mewls that flowed unbidden. he picks up the pace and your eyes screw shut, pressure building in your belly. “phil! ‘m gonna-” he cuts you off with another brutal kiss, his tongue bullying its way into your mouth.

all the while, you’re rocking your hips, letting the pleasure build. he pulls away, tilting your head down so that you’re looking into his eyes. “i’m gonna make you come on my fingers, then you’re gonna come on my cock like a good girl. understand?” his tone was forceful enough that you registered the command and you nodded along. you’d do anything he wanted if it meant he didn’t stop. he nodded back and focused in on you, his fingers curling right against that spongy spot deep inside you. “c’mon, baby. give it to me,” he said, his voice ragged as he watched your face. he knew you’d look so pretty falling apart on his lap. and you really did. the pressure released, setting your whole body trembling. you cried out, back arching. your mouth fell open, moaning as you rode out the wave of pleasure. as soon as you’d caught your breath, he yanked his fingers away, leaving you empty and dripping all over the seat. you whined at the loss, but you weren’t empty long. 

he freed himself from his jeans and underwear, giving himself a couple pumps before guiding his leaking cockhead to your warmth. you whine as he taps it against your clit, his ragged breathing the only reply. when you open your eyes and look at him, he looks just as debauched as you feel. feeling you clench around his fingers, watching your face, it had done something to him. without another word, he pushes himself inside. just a little bit at first, and you’re thankful for it. the tip of him is already stretching you wider than your biggest toy. he holds your chin in his thumb and forefinger, guiding your eyes down to his. “you’re doing so good, you pretty thing. need ya to give me one more. think you can do that for me?” you nod, letting gravity sink you a little further down on his cock. he hisses through clenched teeth, cheeks burning red.

phillip’s hands on your hips are steadying, easing you down until he’s bottomed out inside you. the moan you let out is a sound you’re wholly unfamiliar with. wanton, crass, loud to boot. he groans alongside you, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass. you give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness. he’s not longer than you can handle, but he’s thick, stretching your walls as much as they can take. the burn fades into something warmer, something softer, and that’s when you know you can give him another. you start to bounce up and down, slowly at first before picking up the pace. his head leans back against the seat, reveling in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. “fuck, baby! you take me so well, knew you would. this pussy’s so good, so wet. all for me, all fuckin’ mine.”

his words are slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth as he lets himself get drunk on the pleasure. you’re not far behind, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot every time you sink down onto his lap. he presses his hips into yours, thrusting into you to shove himself deeper. you moan into his ear, bracing yourself as your shaking thighs try desperately to keep up. that’s when he starts helping, lifting you up and spearing you on his cock over and over. your eyes roll back in your head and the pressure builds again before you even know what’s happening. all of a sudden, you’re hovering right over the edge, breath heavy and head fuzzy. you must have tightened around him because phil makes an absolutely unholy noise, his head falling back against the seat.

“god damn,” he breathes out, a hand leaving your hip to tug at your hair. it was so attractive, the way he lifted you on his lap like you weighed nothing. your head falls back as he yanks at the roots of your hair, the jolt of pain threatening to push you over the edge. he’s moaning right alongside you, watching the way your tits bounce and your body jiggles as you bounce on his cock. “need you to come again, sweetness,” he says, tilting your head so you’re looking at him. “look me in the eye, don’t you stop lookin’ at me.” you obey, letting the pleasure build in you as he pushes himself impossibly deeper. his gaze is intense, unwavering. the pressure, the fullness is all too much and you tip over, your walls gripping him in a vice as you come.

that turns him into an animal, rutting into you with abandon as you ride out your orgasm. just when it gets to be too much, when you’re about to tap out, the warmth of his spend floods into you. you whine at the sensation, too lost in your own head to relish in the sounds he made. some men liked to talk through it, mumble out some incoherent praise or compliments. not phil. no, he moaned. the sounds fell from his lips as his hips stuttered, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. the hand in your hair tightens as well, causing you to hiss in pain. he doesn’t even register the sound, too lost in his own pleasure.

when his eyes finally meet yours again, they look much like your own. blissed out blues meet your cumdrunk gaze. his chest heaves as he slides himself out of you, pulling you down to lay against him. his spend drips out of you and you begin to protest, but he shushes you. “‘s alright, darlin’. i’m gettin’ the truck detailed tomorrow.” you settle, catching your breath as your ear presses against his chest. you can hear his heart thundering in his chest, threatening to beat right out of his skin. “you did so good for me,” he says, raking his fingers through your hair. “such a good, obedient girl.”

you smile at the praise, his words warming something deep within you. “same time next week?” he asks, and you nod. finally, you’d found what you were looking for.

[richarlotte]

how to get ahead in college?

How to get AHEAD. 

Set up your social media accounts and then put them on private. People you don’t know don’t need to have access to too much information or photos of you. If you decide to put them on public, keep yourself very safe.

 

Know the look, but know that it’s up to you whether to emulate it or not. Sometimes your best bet is creating and doing your own thing. Knowing the look does work, but having your own essence is also important.

 

Get an idea of the popular venues, events, and groups around campus. You should know where to be, what to try, how to get yourself in, and when to show up there.

 

Keep at least a 3.3 GPA throughout your first semester. Realistically, 3.5 is a much better bet, and shoot for a 3.75 or a 4 if you have it in you; your academic success should always come first when you’re away at school.

 

Start connecting with people before you get to campus. Use social media as a tool to do this, and don’t be afraid to reach out; you don’t need to be focusing on making best friends, but you should get to know the people you’ll be around when you’re at uni.

 

Learn how to do your own maintenance and how to fix yourself up. I’ve saved so much money, and it’s so convenient to be able to do what I want when I want. If there are any services you love, learn how to do them and then perfect the skills you’re teaching yourself.

 

Learn who to avoid and why they’re notorious. YikYak, GreekRank, and the GCs can be toxic, but there can be some truth to the rumors. Also, listen to the older girls. 

 

Save!! Living alone at school for the first time can be expensive. Save up, get a part-time job or on-campus job, and make sure you’re being smart with your funds. Don’t go crazy spending, don’t live outside your means, and don’t lose your mind trying to keep up. 

 

Men are not the center of the world, and a college-aged guy’s opinion of you isn’t going to make or break you. Don’t ever take them too seriously, make sure to have fun, and play the game if that’s your thing. Things will happen once you’ve settled into the dating scene. 

 

Once you make good friends, put effort into keeping them. It can be incredibly isolating to be on campus, and it can be hard to thrive if you’re alone. Put effort into keeping your friendships, do the hard work, and build relationships with the people you get to know.

 

Network your ass off and get used to using your resources. Take advantage of career fairs, get involved with on-campus opportunities, and take your future seriously. Graduation and a good job are the end goals, and networking to get to where you want to be is an essential part of navigating adult life and your career.

 

Don’t be ashamed if you’re struggling. If you need help, then you should be going to study and office hours, and if you feel overwhelmed, then you should be reaching out to people who can help you. Every person needs and deserves support, and support and success go hand in hand. You need support to succeed at uni.

 

Take care of yourself and your health. The amount of Freshman 15, Frat Flu, Mono, Strep, and exhaustion I’ve seen is insane, and a new environment will run you down like nothing else. Take care of your mind, your body, and your soul, and rest before you’re forced to.

 

Learn your limits. If you party, then you need to know how much you can drink, and if you party party, you need to be a responsible adult and test your stuff. If you feel like you’re developing a problem, stop and get help before you spiral and can’t come back from it.

 

Keep your environment clean. You should have a weekly home and clothes cleaning session, and you should take pride in having a tidy space. One of my greatest joys is how nice I’ve been able to keep my space, and I love how I have my little room arranged.

 

Skipping class is a very slippery slope; make sure you are attending. Same with getting work done: if you plan on going out, then do your work early on in the day, and if you want to spend your weekends going out or relaxing, get it done earlier in the week and do it right.

 

Sometimes working out, a good meal, and sleep are the cure. Make sure you’re not running on empty before you respond and take the time to cool down if necessary. Most campuses are smaller than you’d think, and totally crashing out is never the answer. 

 

Meet people, meet everyone, and take the time to get to know people who come from different backgrounds and cultures. It can be so fun to get to know new people and new things. Make an effort to interact with people you normally wouldn’t and get to know them. 

Richarlotte x

[sleepysnk]

a/n: okay.. i never thought i’d ever write for wakasa, but this idea came to me and i couldn’t let it slide. shoutout to @wakashawty for being the sole reason why i did this. i love you kei bae! 🤍 i hope you guys all enjoy <3

pairings: wakasa imaushi x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, alcohol consumption (wakasa), mentions of harassment, club owner!wakasa, waitress!reader, use of cigarettes, very flirty wakasa, nsfw, smut, fingering, use of pet names (angel, doll, baby, good girl, princess), teasing, brief edging, use of blindfolds, consensual recording, possessive sex, mentions of jealousy, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, choking, mentions of marks.

synopsis: you work as a waitress at the infamous club owned by wakasa imaushi. you hadn’t encountered the man ever in your entire time employed there, but one night you had a chance encounter with the owner looking for something other than your professional service.

the white leopard ft. wakasa imaushi

The White Leopard.

The infamous club that was located in the downtown of your city, and owned by a man named Wakasa Imaushi. The club had opened its doors just two years prior. It was well known amongst older adults and some older college kids as a hang out spot to get drunk, and hookup with men or women on the weekends. Many fine businessmen from the city often flocked to the place to grab a drink or meet pretty women to tuck away in their beds. With businessmen, came wealthy evenings for the people who worked at the establishment. Some of the bartenders went home with hundred dollar bills in their pockets from how active the nights would be. It was a truly luxurious club, despite what may have gone down on the inside.

You weren’t sure how you managed to snatch a job at the place, but you somehow did. 

You had been employed at The White Leopard for almost six months. One of your friends recommended you the job when she had heard about your termination from your previous job. At first, you thought you were about to become some kind of stripper. The idea of possibly twirling and swinging around on a metal pole made your skin crawl, but when your friend explained that you would be a waitress, that gross feeling dissipated from your mind. You had never worked a server job before. All of your previous positions had to do with retail or working as a barista at your local coffee shop. You had the customer service experience, but being a waitress sounded quite nerve wracking. 

Though, you didn’t have much of a choice. You lived by yourself with bills that had to be paid, and you were also still a college student. There was no possible way that you would be able to support yourself with no job, so you filled out the application and received a call back the next day for an interview. 

After that day, you began working at the fine club. You had heard many people on your university campus boasting about how exhilarating it is to party at The White Leopard, and from working there as long as you did, you could completely understand why they said those things. The place really kept up its reputation. Anytime you stepped inside, you could practically smell the whiff of money and expensive cologne that probably was worth more than your college tuition and rent combined. Being there was great, though. The job was just as you imagined it to be. Taking drink orders, assisting guests with questions, all the usual things a server would take care of. 

The weekdays were always pretty slow. Monday through Thursday were always the days you would go home with the least amount of cash, but occasionally you would have a decent night if there was some kind of important business being held by the businessmen who visited the club. The real action was on Friday and the weekends. Those were the busiest evenings, considering that most people didn’t have work or school to attend the next day. The very first time you worked a Friday night you swore to god that your pockets were overflowing with cash. Your coworker, Yuzuha, had informed you of how easy the men were with money during the night. She was right about that. You’d come back to tables with almost two hundred dollars in tips, sitting right in the center. It was so quick to make money that you never passed on a shift like that again, except if you weren’t placed on the schedule.

While it seemed like paradise, there were downsides to your job.

With being a waitress, came the idiots who never seemed to know how to treat wait staff. You had to deal with all kinds of people and witness all types of things all while at work. There were several occasions where grown men have shouted in your face and called you a whore for not serving their drinks quick enough. Some of the men inside of the club had said disgusting things to you as well. You’ve been harassed frequently by intoxicated guys that just couldn’t take no for an answer. You were thankful that security took care of it, but those kinds of words often lingered inside your mind and made you want to quit altogether. 

The issues didn’t stem from just men, there were also incredibly rude women as well. Many times random girls would accuse you of trying to seduce their boyfriends when you were simply just leaning over to hear them better. The music inside the club was deafening at times, and it didn’t help that some of the tables were directly by huge speakers that made it very difficult to hear the customers. You’ve also had girls dump drinks on you for no apparent reason. As much as you wanted to verbally tell them off, you remembered that you had a job and you weren’t in the mood to get fired. Your manager told you many times that you should never engage in an argument with a customer. It was bothersome, very bothersome, but you always bit your tongue and put a smile on your face. 

Besides some of those negative things, you still kept the job. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Plus, you got to work with some pretty kind people. Your coworkers were the only reason you hadn’t completely abandoned the job all together. That, and the fact that you made lots of money within just one week.

There was one person you had yet to see at your job, and that was the owner. Wakasa Imaushi was his name. 

You had been employed there for six months. Yet, you never had a single encounter with the man who opened the club all that time ago. Some of your coworkers had seen the man before and described him as this intimidating figure who would come in to have a drink or two, then leave with his buddies. Your female coworkers often raved about Wakasa. They said he was very handsome and they had even seen him leave with women from the club. Part of you envied the people you worked with. Seeing Wakasa in all his glory sounded like a total dream. You tried to go to the lengths of finding his social media. Surely a club owner like him would have business profiles, but much to your dismay, there wasn’t a single trace of this man’s existence on the internet. You could understand if he wanted to be private with his life, but not even a proper photograph? It was odd.

Maybe there would be a chance for you to properly meet him, but with his rarity of appearances, that seemed highly unlikely. 

Tonight was a usually busy shift for you. Being that it was a Friday evening, you expected such an exciting atmosphere from the moment you stepped in for work. It was a pretty nice night for you. So far, you had made about three hundred dollars worth of tips. 

Your shift had begun at six thirty and it was already nearing midnight. Your manager informed you that you only had to work for another fifteen minutes or so. You were kind of thankful for that, because the later hours of the night kind of got crazy. That also meant you got to go home early and retire for the evening in your comfortable bed. You had a fairly long day at school. Exams were kicking your ass and with studying and working you hardly had any time to get any shut eye. Tonight had also been pretty tiring, despite nothing serious going down. You still dealt with weird comments from drunk men that couldn’t keep it to themselves.

You were standing in the corner of the club where the cash register was. You had just closed out one of your tables and you were currently counting how much money you had. The clock displayed on your phone screen showed that it was now midnight. You were relieved to know that you would be able to go home soon. Your feet were killing you from the amount of standing and walking you did today. 

Sighing, you placed the cash into the pocket of your blouse. This is usually what you did towards the end of your shifts. You’d just stand in the corner until it was time for you to clock out. Your manager was okay with it, but sometimes he would remind you that not doing anything could get you into trouble. However, why would some drunk man come bombarding you with questions as to why you were standing there. Most of the people in this club came here to do whatever they pleased. You’ll never forget the time you caught two people having sex in the restroom. It was honestly mind blowing, but at least you had a funny story to tell whenever you were out and about with someone. 

You stood there on your cell phone. You scrolled through your socials, smiling at the posts your friends had made. You had the day off tomorrow, so you were pretty excited to make plans with your companions. The semester had been grueling and you were so ready to have a night out with zero stressors weighing on your mind.

“Oh! There you are, (Y/N)!”

You practically fumbled with your phone to shove it into your waistband. The familiar voice of your manager was the reason for your mindless scrolling to be placed on pause. Although he was a nice man, he had a pet peeve for staff using their cellphones in the middle of their shifts. There were a few times you had gotten caught on the job and you’d rather not get fired for something as small as a cellphone issue, so you listened to the man. “O-Oh, hey, Kakucho, what’s up?” you shifted around, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being caught by him.

The man placed his hand on his hip. He seemed rather unamused by seeing you on your phone, but that wasn’t much of a concern to him at the moment. He had a much greater worry at hand, and he needed your assistance with that. “I know this might be a lot to ask.. but can you stay a little longer? We have a guest coming and it’s important we have someone on the ready when he arrives.” he looked down at you, seeming desperate for your presence to remain at the club. “He’s quite.. a significant individual.” 

A sense of dread washed over you at his words. You were exhausted. You were surprised that you didn’t possibly fall asleep in the break room. Kakucho had asked you to do this many times before. Any time there was a big figure coming to The White Leopard, he’d ask a select few of servers to stick around after their shifts. You were used to that question being proposed often, but tonight? He must have been desperate, considering Yuzuha and Emma had been still there. He even gave you the go ahead to leave early, so that felt kind of unfair to you. It was almost like Kakucho was playing some sick joke on you to poke fun at you. All you wanted to do was go home and rest. If he would have asked another evening, sure, but tonight? It seemed out of the question.

You sighed, looking up at your manager with obvious frustration. Kakucho could easily see it in your expression. “I’m exhausted.. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but still. You also told me I could head home early, so why the sudden change of heart?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

Kakucho combed his fingers through his jet-black hair. He understood your feelings of tiredness and desire to go home for the evening. He also did have a sense of guilt for informing you earlier that you could leave early, but he wasn’t expecting to receive a phone call from Shinichiro so late in the night. It was a rare occasion. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), it’s just Yuzuha and Emma are booked with tables right now. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a single one, and I’d rather provide the utmost service for our guest.” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I promise you’ll be paid extra for this.. I just really need you right now. I’ll even give you the entire weekend off.” 

You wondered if staying behind would be a good idea. Your eyes wandered to your coworkers who were practically bouncing around the lively club with drinks in their hands. Kakucho was right. Yuzuha and Emma had their hands full with customers, and your departure would only build onto the stress they were experiencing. It would be very unfair for you to completely dip without at least offering some help. Kakucho also promised more money on your next check and the entire weekend off. 

Sighing, you averted your gaze onto your employer who seemed a little antsy. You could read him like a book and his body language was the words inside it. It made you wonder who this guest was. “Fine.. I’ll stay.” his face lit up with relief, but also excitement at your response. “But, who’s the guest? Is it Hanma Shuji again?” 

“No, um, it’s Wakasa Imaushi.”

All of your blood went cold at the name that rolled off of Kakucho’s lips. Wakasa Imaushi was making an appearance tonight? And you had to be the one who served him and whoever else came with him? Your heart rate began to spike at the thought of waiting his table. You had been working this job for months and you honestly still felt like you were a newbie at times. Sure, you had served highly entitled men like Hanma Shuji or even Manjiro Sano at one point, but the club’s owner? That’s something you never imagined you’d have the opportunity to do. You had heard plenty of stories from your coworkers, but even that didn’t give you enough confidence. What if he was a poor customer to you? You had heard plenty of horror stories from other waitresses on owners who were complete assholes to the staff because of their status. What if Wakasa was the same? You would hate to possibly make a negative impression on the man who owned The White Leopard.

You tried to look on the bright side. Your coworkers had never said anything pessimistic about the man, and you guys often spoke about your negative experiences with customers. If Wakasa was one of those bad apples, you would have surely heard about it by now. Though, that was their experiences, not yours. He could be a complete jackass for all you knew.

Trying to calm yourself, you looked at Kakucho who was still staring at you. He seemed to be waiting for your reply about his mention of Wakasa swinging by the club. You weren’t sure what there was to say, but you had to come up with something. “Wakasa..?! Kakucho, can’t you ask one of the other girls? I don’t even know what he likes or what he’s even like as a person!” you started to panic a little, despite not wanting to. You didn’t like the idea of serving a man you had never met before. 

Kakucho placed his hands onto your shoulders. He could sense your anxiety and wanted to make sure you were relaxed before Wakasa arrived. The last thing he’d want is for you to have a meltdown and risk embarrassing yourself in front of the man. He had lots of confidence in you. “Hey, don’t panic, okay? Just treat him like a regular customer. All of his drinks are being pre made right now, so you just have to introduce yourself and just serve his drinks. He’s not a bad guy, (Y/N). Just play it casual,” he rubbed his thumbs on your skin, which somewhat calms you down. Though, that furious beat of your heart was making itself known within your chest.

You shook your head, feeling stupid enough to accept his offer of staying late. In all honesty, you should have just lied to Kakucho and said you had a headache so he’d let you leave. It didn’t seem like there was any other choice, nor could you go back now. Wakasa was on his way, and you doubted Kakucho would let you go after this. It didn’t matter how hard you may have protested. “Ugh.. fine, just let me know when he arrives.” you glanced over at the multi-colored strobe lights that danced along the walls. 

He nodded at you, tapping your arm as a way to reassure you that everything would be fine. “You got it. Thank you again for this. Wakasa will be here in a few minutes.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see his messages. 

He then turned and left you there, disappearing into the darkness of the club. You let out an anxious sigh and rubbed your hands on your temples. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you right now. To be honest, you didn’t think your evening would have been like this. You thought that you would have gone back to your apartment and crashed into your bed with a nice day upcoming tomorrow. You never imagined that you would be serving Wakasa Imaushi of all people. Hell, you didn’t even know what the hell he looked like. For all you knew, Wakasa could be this forty year old man who would call you a dumb brat for not bringing his drink fast enough. You really hoped that wasn’t who he was. 

You stood there for a while. Well, it felt like you had been there for a while, but in reality only three minutes had gone by. You disliked feeling anxious over crap this small. Kakucho told you to treat him like a regular customer, but that was difficult considering that Wakasa wasn’t just an ordinary person. He owned The White Leopard. It wasn’t like he was the son of the owner or something. You had to play it cool and be as proper as you possibly could. Any kind of slip up or inappropriate action could lead to your job being lost within the snap of a finger. You prayed and prayed that it would go smoothly, and he’d be a respectful man.

Ugh, you were going insane.

Your head instantly turned when you felt a palm connect with your shoulder. Your eyes were faced with the sight of Kakucho who seemed a little more stern now. He must have been nervous as well. Sure, he was your boss, but Kakucho’s boss was probably Wakasa. “He’s here.. those three drinks are his.” your eyes shifted towards the bar where there were three different glasses sitting on a tray. “He’s in the fourth booth on the main floor. Make sure to introduce yourself and bring the drinks with you. If he asks for me, you grab me immediately, okay?”

You swallowed thickly at Kakucho’s descriptive instructions. This was serious shit now. You were about to encounter the owner you had never come across in your life. “Okay.. I will.” you then walked past your manager and stepped towards the bar where the trio of drinks were. Your eyes settled on the glasses that were sweating from the condensation. The beverages almost seemed equivalent, considering their color was the exact same. It had to be some kind of rich whisky, judging by the odor of the alcohol. You were never really a fan of those stronger liquors. They made your mouth burn and it was just too heavy for your taste.

You took in a deep breath, then lifted the tray with the drinks on them. Your body turned around and began to walk towards the main floor of the club. You tried your best to not tremble or shake the tray in your hands, because you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of Wakasa. You also didn’t want to lose your employment because of some stupid mistake. You were silently telling yourself that you’d be okay and all you had to do was serve them every so often. There was no conversation, small talk, none of that. You just had to be polite and do your job as a waitress. 

You reached the stairs that led to the main floor of the club. The amount of bodies in the room began to increase now. The music had also become louder since the DJ was centered on the main floor. Many people passed by you as you stepped down the stairs. The aroma’s ranged from cheap perfume to the thick smell of marijuana. It was amazing what people could get away with in such a luxurious club. You would think the rules would be more strict, but it was far from that. 

“Fourth booth on the main floor.”

Your eyes scanned the many booths that were pressed against the right wall of the club. People who usually came in trios or groups often sat in those spots. There were already multiple abundances of people who had occupied those seats. You counted each one inside your brain until your eyes halted on the fourth booth. You weren’t sure which one was Wakasa, but the men sitting in the booth intimidated you to all hell. It made you hesitate for a brief second, but you had to do your job. You sucked in a breath and walked over to the table where the three men were sitting. As soon as you stood in front of the table, their conversation halted and they stared at you with those eyes. 

You took in the sight of the three. The man on the far left had jet-black hair that somewhat covered his eyes. A silver chain was hung around his neck and he wore a plain white button up shirt with dark pants. He seemed much friendlier compared to the other two. 

The man in the middle was the real eye catcher in your opinion. He had blonde and violet hair that was thrown up in a ponytail. Two thick strands of his hair hung over his eyes like a curtain. His eyes were lazy and the color of amethyst. There was a cigarette that was tucked between his teeth. The end was smoldering and seemed to be just recently lit. There were a plethora of tattoos that painted his arms and upwards on his chest. His outfit consisted of a similar one to the man to his left. A white button up and black pants. The only difference was he wore a tie, while the other didn’t. He had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever laid your eyes upon. There was this mysterious aura that seemed to be attached to the man sitting in front of you. Could that be.. Wakasa Imaushi? You had no idea. 

The man on your right was much bigger than the two men beside him. He had muscles that practically bulged out of the black button up shirt he was wearing. If he moved the wrong way, you were certain one of the buttons might fly off and hit someone in the head. He had a beard that was the same exact color of his pale hair. He seemed very menacing compared to the other two men. He seemed like the kind of guy who could crush your skull in if you stared at him the wrong way.

Snapping out of your mini analysis, you picked up the drinks one by one off of the tray. You leaned down and placed them each in front of the men sitting before you. “Hi there, welcome in! My name is (Y/N). I hope you all are having a great evening. If you need anything, I’ll be your server for tonight!” you tucked the small tray underneath your arm, trying your absolute best to seem unphased by their appearance. You had met plenty of attractive men inside The White Leopard before, but this was something else.

The male who sat in the center of the booth leaned forward. His sleeves were rolled up, giving you a whole view of the ink that trailed up his forearms. He stuck out his hand in your direction, looking up at you. “Wakasa Imaushi, pleasure to meet you.” his voice was smooth like butter. It sent chills ghosting down your spine from how nice it settled within your ears. You were right about him. “These are my friends, Shinichiro Sano and Keizo Arashi, but you can just call him Benkei for short.”

You made eye contact with him for a brief second, but immediately shifted your gaze away. His hues were so pretty, but the way he looked at you made your body feel hot. Wakasa Imaushi was what every woman cracked him up to be. He had to be a model or something with how perfect his features were. His smaller nose, lips that were just the perfect shade of pink, and eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. What a man. You reached forward, shaking his hand. His palm felt soft and quite warm against your chilled one. “It’s an h-honor to meet you, Mr.Imaushi!” you internally yelled at yourself for stuttering in front of such a high individual. You hoped deep down he didn’t notice your fumble of words.

Wakasa chuckled at your politeness. Not many people addressed him as “Mr.Imaushi” except for other coworkers, but seeing it from one of the staff was a surprise. He hadn’t met many people like that before, so it easily caught his attention. “Please, no need to be formal. Just call me Wakasa,” he reassured, removing his hand from yours to hold the glass that sat just a few inches from his body. “Thank you for your service. If we need anything, we’ll be sure to look for you, doll.”

You almost choked on your own saliva when the word “doll” slipped from his lips. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but also from being incredibly flustered with how kind he was to you. You weren’t sure if this was possibly a facade he had thrown on, but it was making you melt. In all honesty, you could listen to this man sweet talk you all damn day. He was quite the charmer. “O-Of course! I’ll be around!” you gave one more smile, then began to walk away from the table. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest from what had gone down. Wakasa completely blew you away from just a few sentences. Did he understand his impacts on women? 

You walked up the steps that led to where the bar was. In the distance, you could see Yuzuha in the corner where the tablet was to register tables and take care of bills. She seemed to be counting some of the cash in her fingertips. You made your way over to her and she instantly noticed your presence beside her. “Hey! I thought you left already. Are you clocking out right now?” she nodded her head to the side.

You reached over to type in your passcode for the tablet. You remembered Kakucho being very serious about entering your tables at the proper time. “Kakucho made me stay.. and you’ll never guess who the hell I’m serving right now.” you tapped the screen a few times to enter the drinks into the bill. You weren’t too sure on if Wakasa and his friends were going to pay for what they ordered, but you’d make sure to double check with Kakucho because it would seem rude to bring a bill to the same man who owned the club.

Yuzuha’s eyebrow arched at your words. She didn’t know of any important people coming to The White Leopard that night, so it seemed rather intriguing to her. “Who? Is it someone high up?” she questioned, sounding curious.

You moved your arm away and placed it on the small table underneath you. “It’s Wakasa Imaushi..” you replied, which shocked Yuzuha.

She was genuinely caught off guard by the owner’s sudden presence at the club. Yuzuha had been working there longer than you have, but she had never had the chance to properly serve Wakasa due to his infrequency of presentation at the place. She was well aware of what he was like to the other staff. Most claimed he was respectful and usually tipped pretty well, but she had yet to see the man in full action. “What?! No way! That’s awesome, I bet he’s a great guy considering what he does.” she tapped your arm to try and excite you. “He scares me though.. I could never serve him without dropping the drinks on the floor.” 

You had to agree with her there. So far, Wakasa seemed like a pleasant individual. There haven’t been any red flags and you usually picked up on customer’s vibes whenever they first sat down, but his didn’t seem bad whatsoever. His friends also didn’t look too harsh either. “Yeah, I almost lost it when I walked over to his table, but otherwise he’s been fine. I just have to keep an eye on him..” you quickly darted your head outside of your corner to see if there was that “look” on their faces, but as far as you could see, his friends seemed content in their spots. 

Your coworker giggled at your reply. Yuzuha leaned against the wall for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. It had been a long evening for her as well. She made good money, but she was physically exhausted with all of the running around she had to do. “I’m wishing you serious luck, (Y/N). I have almost four tables right now and I don’t think they’ll leave until we close..” she rubbed her tired eyes with her hands. 

You could honestly feel her pain. There were times where you didn’t leave until almost four in the morning because the customer’s you were serving just kept ordering drinks like they were food. It was an annoying experience because you lost out on so much needed sleep, and you didn’t wake up until noon the next day. You hoped that deep down Wakasa wasn’t the same way. If he was, you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of this club. “I’m wishing you luck too, Yuzuha!” you gave her a thumbs up, then poked your head out once again to check on the things at your table. 

Confusion settled within you when you saw that both of Wakasa’s companions had somehow disappeared. They were no longer in their seats and it made you grow worried. You doubted that this was a “drink and dash” type of situation, but you prayed that they weren’t out and about looking for you since you had departed earlier. There was an occasion about four months in which a man came storming up to you all because you didn’t come by fast enough with his drink. You were lucky that Yuzuha’s brother, Hakkai, was there to come to your defense over the matter. That thought alone worried you. It risked many things, and you didn’t want to be at fault for not paying proper attention to your table.

Your vision shifted to Yuzuha who was seemingly looking around at the bar. She was waiting for some of her drinks to be made at the moment. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back.” you said, nodding your head in the opposite direction. 

You then began making your way to where Wakasa’s booth was. Nervousness coursed through your veins as you grew closer to where he was. Your fingers couldn’t help but toy with the white leopard that was embroidered on your onyx colored skirt. Your worst fear right now was being scolded by Wakasa himself. You had only walked away for a good three or four minutes. It’d be even more alarming if you had disappeared for longer than that, but you remembered Kakucho explaining to you that you had to be on top of your service when it came to Wakasa. It was understandable. Could you have messed up already? You worried Kakucho was going to find out and potentially terminate your employment. 

Once you made it to the main floor, your feet moved quickly to the booth where Wakasa was sitting. Relief hit you like a truck when your eyes landed on the man who was still in the direct center of the table. He was still present, but that same question remained. Where were his buddies? 

Wakasa picked up on your presence expectantly. He could sense some distress in your body language, which perplexed the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about in his opinion. Though, it was somewhat worrying on his part. His club was always heavily guarded by high profile men, but there have been a few occasions where something unfortunate had gone down. “Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Wakasa questioned, placing his cigarette into the ashtray that was a few inches away from him.

His inquiry made your eyes focus on him. One thing about Wakasa was that he had this stare that made your body feel like it was burning. It was like he was studying you and his eyes were penetrating the deepest areas of you. You could hardly maintain eye contact without your heart leaping outside of your chest. He was attractive, so fucking attractive. It was still hard to believe that this was the man who owned The White Leopard. He was dreamy. You could get lost with him right in front of you. 

However, you remembered that he asked you a question. You must have been staring for far too long, because Wakasa seemed to be a little confused by your silence. “U-Uh! Yes! I’m sorry, Wakasa.. I was just worried when I didn’t see your friends with you.” you tried to sound as apologetic as possible, because you probably looked like a fucking weirdo. 

He chuckled, eyeing you up and down. He reached over and patted the empty spot that was to the right of him. “Come.. have a seat.” he then  grabbed his drink which was now almost completely empty. 

You were stunned at his request to have you sit with him. Usually, Kakucho never allowed the staff to sit down with any of the customers. It didn’t matter if the person was a friend or if they were family, it was prohibited. It was also implemented due to the harassment from the men who would come in. Some of them would try and coax you into sitting with them, or they’d try making you sit on their lap. It was a very uncomfortable thing that you had experienced many times, but you almost always declined. It was disgusting and you weren’t sure who the hell raised those men, but it must have been the wrong person. 

Would it be unprofessional to have a seat with Wakasa? He was asking you to join him in the booth, but there was the chance that this was a test to see if you’d actually go through with it. You cleared your throat to sound assertive in your words. “Forgive me, but it’s unprofessional for me to do so. My manager doesn’t allow it..” you placed your hands in front of you, hoping he didn’t have a negative reply to you. There was that chance he’d start yelling at you and making a whole scene. 

Wakasa’s expression shifted the moment he heard you. You were good. He wouldn’t care if you sat down, but you were very loyal to your rules and followed orders properly. Though, he didn’t find such a thing inappropriate by any means. He didn’t see you tending to any other tables or customers, so why not? He was also the owner of the club. He wasn’t going to get you into any trouble if you sat with him. If anything, he wanted you there. “Hm.. you seem to follow the rules, which is a good thing.” he took a brief sip of the alcohol in his glass, swallowing it without a second thought. “However, you won’t get in trouble. Kakucho won’t bat an eye with me here, so by all means have a seat. Though, you’re not obligated if you aren’t comfortable with it.” 

Your mouth fell slightly agape at his replies. You were certain that this was a test of some kind, but thank god it wasn’t. Now, you were left with two options. Sit with Wakasa, or completely decline the offer and go back to your little corner and be a shy little waitress. Either or sounded great! But, did they really?

This was Wakasa Imaushi of all people. He was actually inviting you to sit down with him. Your coworkers never mentioned him being this polite, so you wondered what his motives were. Maybe you caught him on a good night and he was in a greater mood than usual. It was still a really interesting request, but maybe you could do this just once. He was right about one thing. Kakucho wouldn’t say a single word if he saw you with Wakasa, so you could technically get away with it. 

Fuck it.

You pulled your skirt down just a bit, then sat down beside him. Your reason being that you didn’t want the thing riding up when you stood up the next time. 

Sitting just a few inches away, Wakasa stared at you with that lazy expression. He smirked briefly then took another swig of his drink. You caught on to the looks he was giving you, and it suddenly made you nervous once again. It felt like he was trying to seduce you with those expressions. The aroma of his expensive cologne intoxicated you. It was quite divine and it made these heat pool from your stomach towards your core. You shouldn’t have been thinking of such things about him, but how could you not? He was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid your eyes upon. You were certain any woman in your position would think the same about him. 

Wakasa placed his now empty drinking glass down on the table. He tilted his head to place all of his focus onto you. His eyes drank in the sight of your appearance. You were quite beautiful to the man. The swell of your breasts was briefly exposed through the top of your shirt, and your thighs looked quite nice in the skirt you wore. “Would you like a drink? It’d be my treat!” he raised an eyebrow, placing his elbows onto the table.

Your eyes grew wide at his proposal. There hadn’t been many attractive men to offer you a drink. You usually turned them down due to it being not allowed, but you weren’t really interested in having a drink that night. You were on shift and you had to drive yourself home too. It wouldn’t be a good idea. If it were any other night, you would have said yes. You wondered how many women had the opportunity to receive a drink from Wakasa of all people. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. I have to drive and I’m pretty exhausted, so drinking may not be a great idea. Thank you again, though.” you tried to sound polite, because you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea from you. 

Wakasa nodded his head. He completely understood your reasoning. He wouldn’t press that matter any longer, but he would have loved to buy you a drink some time. “Smart girl, I like that.” he reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small rectangular box. It was clearly a pack of cigarettes. “So, how long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you before, and I’d usually notice if there was a pretty woman serving people around here.” 

Your heart began to thump rapidly inside of your chest. Was he.. flirting with you? 

There was no way he was trying to do that. He probably did that with every woman he encountered to charm them. Sure, you’d take the compliment, but it was quite shocking that he’d be so direct with you. You liked a straightforward man, but this was a lot for you to handle. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that Wakasa was in fact the owner of this club. He had a business and he was extremely respected among the people who came here. As well as your boss and your other coworkers. You would have expected a man who owned such a fine business to be reserved and quiet. That’s how a majority of them were when you encountered them. They were all married or were engaged, so it only made sense for them to never show special attention to other women. However, Wakasa’s ringer finger was completely blank, and he seemed quite young compared to the older gentlemen you would usually see. That didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing anyone, though, but he could have a girlfriend. Though, that made another question appear in your mind. Why flirt if you weren’t single? Maybe he was a cheater? No, there was no way. You were clearly overthinking this. 

You also hadn’t been in a relationship for a pretty long time. You had men flirt with you before, but none of them had the same vibe as Wakasa. This was much different than what you’ve ever experienced. 

You watched him take out his lighter and ignite the cigarette he held between his lips. Your nose twitched at the scent of the smoke filling your nostrils. “I’ve been here for six months..” you looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze which was set on you.

He shook his head, processing the information you had given him. He was surprised to hear that you had been there for that long. He had never seen your face before. He assumed that you must have been a new hire, but you weren’t. “Oh? Interesting.. has your experience been swell? I’d sure hope so,” he took a hit of his cancer stick, blowing smoke through his nose. “What time are you off the clock, by the way?”

You began to fumble with your fingers. You hated being obviously nervous around him, but you worried about possibly slipping up and saying the wrong thing to Wakasa. Kakucho often reminded you that first impressions meant everything, especially to the man who owned The White Leopard. He also intimidated you. It could sound mean, but his presence scared you more than any other man. It probably had to do with the high amount of superiority he had above you. “It’s been okay! It’s a great job! I like it here a lot..” your eyes flickered from his eyes to your hands. “And.. um, I’m pretty much off when you leave the club? I’m not sure..”

A laugh came from his mouth, which alarmed you. You really hoped that it wasn’t sarcasm. You didn’t mean for it to come out in a rude manner, but what if he took it that way? Oh, shit. You could have completely fucked this entire interaction up. “Ah, I see. Well I’m glad you’re liking this job. I believe fine dime’s like yourself deserve the princess treatment.” he winked, showing off that teasing smirk from prior. “With that being said, I’d like the check, angel.”

A frown settled on your features at the mention of wanting the bill. You figured that meant that he was planning on leaving the club, which was disappointing. In all honesty, you wanted to converse with him a bit more before he’d make his departure. Maybe you thought too much of his nicknames and his words. He was probably just trying to swoon you. “O-Okay! I’ll come right back with that for you!” you then stood up, brushing out any wrinkles from your skirt and leaving the booth. You didn’t notice, but Wakasa had completely eyed your backside from head to toe. 

You made your way to the small corner where the register was. Many people were just now entering the club, which made you pray for Yuzuha and Emma who were planning to stay the entire evening. You eventually made it to the tablet and printed out the small bill. It was surprising. He and his friends had only ordered three drinks the entire night. It was almost like they didn’t even enjoy their time there, but you weren’t going to question their sudden need for leaving. It did give you the chance to finally head on home and get some much needed rest. You were exhausted and that familiar ache in your heels was paining you. 

Grabbing the receipts, you took a small black pen from the cup next to the tablet. You then began to walk over to the booth where Wakasa was still sitting. This time, he was on his cell phone. He seemed to be typing a text to somebody. He noticed you standing there instantly and lifted his head to pay attention to you. “There you are, angel, thank you.” he said, taking the receipts and the pen from your shaky hands. “You were a doll tonight, thank you for being so great at what you do.” 

Your heart fluttered at such a compliment from the man. Not many people would say nice things about your service, so it was reassuring and quite comforting to hear such things every once and a while. “T-Thank you! It means a lot coming from you..” you gave a smile to him, which didn’t feel forced for once tonight.

Wakasa signed the bill, then proceeded to take his wallet out of his pocket. He removed many bills from it, and you were surprised to see that he carried so much cash on him. Once he was done, he placed his wallet back and then stood up to hand you the money. “This is for the drinks..” he handed you one twenty dollar bill. “And this is for you.. have a great night, doll.” 

Your eyes went almost as wide as saucers when you saw the amount of cash you had between your fingers. He gave you a tip. A tip that was well over the usual twenty percent that you were used to. He tipped you one hundred and ten dollars. You were about to turn around and protest, but he was gone. There was a single sign of his presence anywhere. You couldn’t believe he had actually given you that much money. This had to be the biggest tip you had ever received in your entire time working at the club. Sometimes, you didn’t even receive the full twenty percent, but this completely blew you away. You were well aware that he tipped his servers pretty nicely, but you didn’t think it was this nice. You didn’t even know how to react.

Coming to your senses, you realized you had a lot of money in your hands. You then walked away from the now empty booth towards the stairs that led to the tablet. It had been a pretty successful evening for you, and you had zero complaints about any of it. Now, it was time for you to head out and go home. You assumed that Kakucho was aware of Wakasa’s dismissal, so you figured your time here was finished for the night. 

Once you reached the corner, you cleared his table and closed it out for the night. You couldn’t believe the evening you had, but you surely were excited to tell your friends about it tomorrow when you saw them. It’d be an interesting story to mention. 

You were ready to place the receipt into your pocket, but you paused when you noticed there was something written on it. It wasn’t just his signature, but there was other writing on the top of the space. You flipped the piece of paper so you could read it properly. It was surprising that you didn’t notice him writing it down when you saw him sign for the check, but maybe you missed it and looked away at the wrong moment. 

“Meet me upstairs in the private rooms. Say I asked for you. I’m in the room all the way in the back on the right. Only come if you’re comfortable <3”

The private rooms.

There had been a few occasions where you had to head up to the private rooms. The only reason for your presence being there was because of high profile businessmen being there for their own pleasure. Nobody was allowed back there except if you were staff, or if you were a part of the group. It was highly guarded by security and they often questioned you whenever you brought drinks back there. Even Kakucho informed you that if you were back there you had to be quick. It was kind of odd at times, because it wasn’t that serious to you, but you were also curious about them. 

You never really knew what went on back there, because their conversations were usually very professional and never made sense to you. Hakkai theorized it was all mafia related and The White Leopard was some kind of money laundering scheme, but Yuzuha usually shut that down with a quick smack to his head. You heard from others that it’s where the men came to have sex and indulge in drugs and drinking, but you never really knew. 

All you were aware of was that you had been invited back there by Wakasa himself, but what did he want? 

The idea of this possibly being a hookup crossed your mind. It made your face warm with embarrassment and it made you nervous. This was a random man, no, this was the man who practically was the reason why you had employment. Sleeping with him sounded like a serious stretch, but could he want that? You didn’t know, but you despised the fact that your brain was telling you to go. Maybe he wanted to have a drink since you were now technically off the clock.

Your eyes scanned the entire club. Your other coworkers seemed completely out of sight, and there was no sign of Kakucho. You decided to go with your gut.

Go and meet with Wakasa.

You clocked out before you left, then made your way towards the corridor that led to the large door that would take you to the private rooms. Your heart beat was through the roof now. You worried that someone had seen you come back there, because you weren’t supposed to be back there without permission. However, you had to relax. You had the receipt with Wakasa’s signature and his note allowing you access to those rooms. If security wanted to make an issue, you had your proof ready for them if they asked for it. 

The loud blare of the music began to fade in your ears, and it became much quieter as you entered the hallway. There were two large men standing on either side of the door. The word “private” was written above the door in large bold letters. The two security men noticed your presence and sort of straightened up their posture to seem more intimidating to you. Kind of a lame tactic considering you never really feared them. 

You paused when you reached the entrance of the rooms. One of the men’s eyes trailed up your form, then cocked his head to the side. “Can we help you?” he asked, his voice deep.

You swallowed thickly, looking up at the two guards. You prepared yourself to reach for the receipt that was tucked within your waistband. You really hoped that neither of these two would report this to Kakucho. You kinda wanted whatever this was to be somewhat private. It wouldn’t be a good look if someone heard about you meeting up with Wakasa. “W-Wakasa asked for me,” you clasped your hands together in hopes that they would believe your words. 

Both security men exchanged glances with one another. The man on the right turned and opened the door. “Right this way,” he held the door slightly ajar for you. 

You were quite surprised that it was that easy to get into there. The men didn’t ask for any proof or identification. You would think that if Wakasa was back there, the men would tear you apart with questions. Did he inform them of your possible arrival to the private rooms? You wouldn’t be that shocked, but it seemed a little odd. You didn’t protest, though, because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to have access to the rooms. 

You walked through the door. The atmosphere had a sudden shift when you stepped through the entrance. There was a long hallway with all kinds of rooms on each side. You had been inside of them before, but those encounters never really lasted long. The door behind you shut with a thud, and all you were left with was the soft beat of the song that played through the speakers above you. You were now towards the back of the club, so the only other sound you could hear was the vibration of the other music that played on the main floor. You were nervous. You hoped that you didn’t possibly run into some random person. You chewed on your bottom lip, hoping the best from the situation. 

Taking a deep breath, you began slowly walking down the hall. 

You passed by many closed doors. Behind them, you could hear the muffled voices of the people who were inside the rooms. You vaguely recalled Wakasa saying he was at the end of the hall on the right. It made you anxious not knowing what might lie behind that door. Wakasa could be messing with you for all you know. You had to try and think positive. Wakasa was a very kind man to you the entire evening. You found it hard to believe that his intentions would be anything but pure with you. Plus, you weren’t alone in this hallway. If there was a problem, you could always just scream your head off until security arrived. You also knew bad vibes. You didn’t receive them when it came to Wakasa of all people.

You paused in your footsteps once you reached the end of the corridor. You lifted your hand to knock on the vanilla colored door. 

Knock! 

It was noiseless for a moment. You wondered if you were too late by chance, but those thoughts diminished when you heard shuffling from the other side of the door. You prepared yourself for what was to come. 

The doorknob jiggled lightly, then it was pulled open. Your eyes focused on the same man you saw just a few minutes prior. Wakasa stood inside the room with that same expression he wore before. Though, that soon shifted when his eyes fixated on you. He smirked when he made eye contact with you. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to arrive within such a short period of time, but he was happy to see you. He was also somewhat relieved that you weren’t uncomfortable with his actions. He hadn’t done such a thing before. He thought for a while you’d toss out the receipt and laugh it off, but he was thankful that wasn’t the case. “Hey, angel, nice to see you here.” he leaned against the doorframe with that same grin. “Come inside..”

Goosebumps flared onto your skin at how sultry his tone was. He sounded sort of flirty, but you had to keep your composure straight. You nodded your head and advanced forward into the same room Wakasa was in. 

The room was quite large and spacious. There was a lengthy couch that stretched along the wall and a coffee table that sat directly in the center of the room. A cup of whisky was the only item that was on the glass. The lights were quite dim and the same soft music played through the speakers. There was a faint odor of cigarettes that lingered through the air as well. You assumed he had been smoking since he had a pack with him much earlier in the night. Wakasa was the only person in the room. You were half expecting Shinichiro and Benkei to be there, but they were still nowhere to be found. You had assumed they were somewhere in the club still.

Your ears perked when the door was shut behind you. Wakasa had then shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. You noticed that his tie was now somewhat loosened, and his sleeves were still rolled up. God, he was so handsome. He had to be straight from heaven itself. 

Wakasa walked past you to the chocolate brown couch that was beside you. He plopped down, allowing the ponytail behind his head to swing from the motion. He lifted his glass that contained his whisky. “Feel free to have a seat, doll. No need to be tense,” he took a sip of the alcohol, then swirled the glass around which made the ice cubes clink against it. 

You nodded, then walked over to the couch he was sitting on. You decided to sit right beside him. You began to grow curious as to what he called you in there for. There were many possibilities swirling inside your mind, but none of them could be decided. He seemed just as casual as he was before when he was sitting inside the booth. Though, this time, there seemed to be a shift in the air. It was like there was some kind of tension circling within the two of you. You didn’t know what the reason was for it, but maybe he read your thoughts when you were sitting with him. Did he know you thought he was attractive? There was no way. You played it very casually and quite proper. “So.. um, what did you want to talk about? I was just wondering since these rooms are private..” you crossed your legs, trying to get comfortable on the leather couch. 

Wakasa shifted his gaze onto where you were sitting. Those familiar feelings from before began to creep up onto you once again. He had these seductive eyes that made your thighs squeeze together. “You piqued my interest.. and I think you’re a very beautiful woman. I could hardly keep my eyes off of you the entire night..” he maintained eye contact with you, causing your body to heat up once again.

A shiver ghosted down your spine. The atmosphere suddenly changed once again, and it was beginning to feel intense. It was blatantly obvious that Wakasa was flirting with you, and hard. Your body was screaming for you to just lean in and let this man have you, but Wakasa was practically your boss. He owned that club and what would happen if you two slept together? If that kind of secret were to slip through the cracks, you could possibly lose your job and it wouldn’t do so well for your reputation and Wakasa’s. You knew what he wanted to do, but could you even bring yourself to agree? Sure, you were more than welcome to hooking up, but would he keep it a secret? He could gladly expose you if he wanted to.

You turned your body so you were now facing him. His eyes kept leaving your face and focusing on random parts of your body. He was so captivated by your beauty that he had no idea where to stare. “Wakasa.. I think you’re handsome as well.. but how can I trust you? I could get into serious trouble and I don’t think I want this to be public knowledge..” you sounded very concerned, which worried Wakasa. He wasn’t trying to sound pushy with you whatsoever. 

He understood your concerns completely. You were right in some aspects. If he spoke about it, you could deal with serious consequences and he didn’t want to be responsible for you being possibly fired. He wanted good things for you, not bad ones. Wakasa wanted to assure you that he could be trusted. He’d never place you in such a position. “(Y/N).. you won’t lose your job while I’m here. I would never share such personal details either.. you can trust me.” he reached over and held your hand, brushing his thumb over your smooth skin. “I promise, doll.” 

His tone seemed rather trusting and sincere from your view. You also wouldn’t get an experience like this ever again, so you shook your head. You knew you were about to indulge in something that you couldn’t go back from, but his presence alone was making your body buzz with excitement and need. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you gave his hand a firm squeeze to assert yourself.

He was happy to hear that you were willing to put your faith into him. He then patted the spot on his lap for you to take a seat on. “Come here..” he motioned for you to come towards him, to which you gladly obliged.

You maneuvered yourself onto Wakasa’s thighs, placing your arms around his neck. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t nervous to be on him like that. His body was so warm against your own and his muscles were so well defined underneath his dress shirt. You could hardly look at him without feeling flustered. This was honestly hard to believe. You were about to have sex with Wakasa Imaushi. If this was a dream, you were praying to god that you wouldn’t wake up before you got to the good part. He was so attractive up close. His features were flawless and quite dreamy. How could a man like this not have a woman by his side? He was better than you ever imagined him to be. 

One of his hands rested around your waist while the other was placed against your thigh. He began to trail up your leg, leaving sparks to snap against your delicate skin. He then began to kiss your neck. His lips were smooth and the pecks were quite soft. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart when you felt his hand trailing closer towards your center. Wakasa hadn’t expected you to become so needy that fast, but he didn’t have a problem with that at all. 

He nipped at your sweet spot, causing a whimper to escape your throat. Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you made those lewd noises because of him. “You like that, baby..?” he asked in a low tone. “If you ever want me to stop.. just say the word..” 

Your grip on his shirt tightened at every minuscule touch of his fingers. Butterflies swarmed inside your belly from his Impact on you. You weren’t sure if it was because of your lack of touch since having a boyfriend, but you were like putty in his hands. “Don’t stop..” you sounded breathless when his hand reached your clothed clit. 

Wakasa grinned devilishly when he made contact with the damp spot that had formed on your panties. He had barely done a single thing and your underwear was already a dripping mess. It made him so fucking hard at the thought. He used his other hand to bring your lips down onto his. The kiss you shared was firey and full of passion and desire. It started off fairly slow. He thought your lips were smooth like honey. He could hardly get enough of the strawberry chapstick you wore on them. You shuddered when the tips of his fingers touched your cunt. He began to draw small circles onto it, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You moaned into the kiss, allowing Wakasa to swallow it.

His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, to which you granted him access to your mouth. He darted into it and deepened the kiss even more this time. You were such a great kisser. He knew those pretty lips would have gone to good use the moment his eyes landed on them. Everything about you was ethereal. He hadn’t felt such excitement in forever. 

Wakasa pulled your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to him. He smirked when he made contact with the sticky arousal that coated your clit. You were a fucking delight down there. He wanted to taste you so fucking badly. Eat you out until you cried his name so everyone in the damn club heard who was making you feel like you were on cloud nine, but he was too far into it to do so. He wanted to make you feel good, of course, but for now he wanted to use just his fingers to make that happen. The thoughts he had were unlike no other. It was almost as if you casted a spell on him, because he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Heh.. what a mess you are, baby. This pretty pussy is calling for me, yeah? You want my fingers in you, princess?” he looked into your eyes as he spoke to you. 

You nodded your head, twirling a few strands of his hair around your fingers. You were slipping right through the cracks. He was driving you up the wall from only one simple thing, but you needed him more than anything else. “Y-Yes.. Wakasa! I need you..” you whined, moving your hips towards his digits which were right near your hole. 

Wakasa sunk one of his fingers into your dripping hole. A gasp filled his ears once he was fully inside of you. You were so tight. He could hardly move his finger around, and not to mention, you were so wet. He could tell that your pussy was quite divine and he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you with his cock instead. He then began to finger you at a decently fast pace. You were squirming and jerking around underneath him. Even though it was just one, you still felt so full and your body was heating up quicker than you expected. He was talented with those hands of his. His finger twisted and curled around your sweet hole to find that one spot he knew would send you to the moon. 

Wakasa used his hand to maneuver your body around. He wanted an even greater access to you, so he adjusted your seating to where your back was now against his chest. This in turn made you place both of your feet onto the couch, so you were spread completely open for him. Wakasa bit the inside of cheek, his mouth watering at the thought of how gorgeous you looked right now. He wanted to see what that pretty cunt of yours looked like. He then kept pumping his finger into you. Your hand went to wrap around his wrist. It was so good. You hadn’t felt such a thing in a long time. His fingers were much different than your own, and he was doing everything to make you fall apart. You shivered even more when you felt his cock completely hardened against your ass. He had to be big, judging by the print that you could feel.

He brought his free hand to wrap around your throat. He pushed you backwards so your head was now against his shoulder. His breath tickled against the shell of your ear. “Look at you.. being so obedient for me..” he gave it a squeeze, causing your eyes to roll back from the pleasure. “So perfect for me.. yeah? Say my name, baby..”

You let out a whine when his pumps only quickened inside of you. He had found that button and he could tell by the way your body was reacting to his motions against it. Your vision blurred with every movement of his fingers, and you started to grow louder. “W-Wakasa..! Right there! Please!” you gripped his wrist tightly as he fingered you relentlessly. Your pussy squelched and squealed from how soaked you were. Wakasa found that to be the hottest thing he had ever heard. A pretty woman with her pussy dripping just for him? He honestly thought of you as an angel, just for him. 

Wakasa didn’t understand how you weren’t with another man. You were so gorgeous and your body had to be a work of art. Normally, women as stunning as you were swept off your feet the moment you came into a man’s view. If it were Wakasa, he would have made you his without a second thought. He’d treat you so right. He would give you it all. He knew it might sound silly because this was indeed his first encounter with you, but you did something to him that no other woman had done before. He couldn’t wait to get the real show started with you. He wanted to show you how a man did things with another woman. 

He brushed his thumb over your swollen clit. His other hand moved to fumble with your breast. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from them the entire evening. He wanted to honestly pull your bra down and suck on your pretty nipples. “Such a perfect little body you have, angel.” he began to draw circles on your puffy clit. “Can’t wait to fuck you.. bet you’re so warm and tight..” 

You bucked your hips towards his finger, feeling your orgasm approaching you. He got off on how desperate you were for his touch. Your walls began to flutter around his finger and slowly trap him in. He wasn’t ready to bring you to your peak yet, so he removed his finger from your cunt. A whine slipped from your lips at his sudden retraction. You were so close. Teasing you made you go crazy. You desired Wakasa more than anything and him being an ass wasn’t helping your case. “W-Waka..!” you tried bringing his hand towards your throbbing cunt, but he remained stiff and didn’t let you move him. He wasn’t going to give in that easily.

He trailed his large hands along your body, exploring every curvature and crevice of your flesh. He left a small wet kiss on the spot underneath your ear. You were so whiny and cute it made his cock twitch inside of his dress pants. “I wanna try something with you, princess..” he cooed into your ear. “But only if you want it.. otherwise, we can move forward..”

Curiosity coursed through your veins at his mention of something new. You had experimented with many things with many different guys, but you had yet to try everything. Wakasa could have anything up his sleeve, which made you wonder more as to what this could be. It only made you more excited. You turned your head to make eye contact with the man who was sitting behind you. His purple eyes were now blown with lust, which made his pupils quite large. “W-What is it..?” you questioned, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his pretty lips you wished you had on you once again.

Wakasa reached towards the black tie that was loosened around the collar of his shirt. He untied it and pulled it off of him. Your eyes grew wide when you realized what he wanted to do. You have seen plenty of erotic videos where a man would use a tie for a specific purpose. Whether it was using it to restrain them, or using it as a blindfold, they were used for pretty kinky things. You hadn’t had one used on you before. It’d be a completely new experience. The thought alone turned you on, a lot. Though, it did somewhat make you nervous because of your inexperience with the clothing item. This could go wrong, but that was a risk you were willing to take with the man before you. You were certain that Wakasa would never put you in a situation where you could get hurt. 

He lifted his tie in his hand up to your level. He could already imagine you with his tie on your body. Fuck, that’d be a sight. You were already gorgeous enough, so you’d look even more sexy with it on. “I want to use it as a blindfold.. I won’t progress without your consent, so if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” he sounded sincere and quite sweet in your opinion. You thought it was considerate of him to think of your feelings in the matter. Not many men were like that. 

You felt comfortable with him enough for him to use the blindfold on you. He did mention that if you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say the word. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you nodded, looking into his pretty eyes. 

He smiled at you, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. He then unrolled his tie, taking both ends into his hands. You then watched him place the tie over your eyes. Your vision went completely dark and you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you. Wakasa used both ends of the tie to form a knot so it would stay nice and firm behind your head. A shaky breath left your lips. You had no idea where he was going to move next, or what he was planning on doing now. Judging by how fast he seemed to be moving, you could only assume that he was preparing to fuck you. The images flashed inside your brain, making that heat form in your belly. 

The man behind you then began to move you around. Wakasa placed your head down, so you were now lying down on the couch. He began to undo the buttons of your blouse, exposing your bra that held your breasts. It took everything inside him to not completely ravage your pretty mounds. He then moved downward and began to tug at your skirt. He pulled the piece of fabric down your thighs, then towards your calves where it slipped off of your ankles. Wakasa’s eyes fixated on your pussy that was still as wet as before. He was right. Your cunt was so perfect and the sight of it made his mouth water with saliva. He began to ponder on the taste. He bet you were sweet and savory. He thought you had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He’d have to taste you some time. There was no way he was going to let you walk away without giving him a small taste.

Wakasa pulled your panties off of your body, tossing them onto the floor beside him. He then began to unbuckle his belt, which made you shiver. You couldn’t see what he was hiding underneath those pants of his. Anticipation bubbled inside your belly at the thought of what his cock was going to feel like. He removed his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers. He could finally breathe. It felt like he had been suffocated from how tight they felt around his waist. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, to which he wiped off with the pad of his thumb. 

His fingers trailed down the skin of your waist, then towards your hips. The lack of eyesight made your emotions all the more heightened. You were much more sensitive now. It was no surprise to Wakasa when you twitched at his minor touches. What a pretty baby you were. “Heh, don’t you worry, princess. I promise to be gentle with you..” he winked, tossing his white shirt onto the table beside you both.

He then positioned himself at your entrance. The pinkish tip brushed along your folds, earning a moan from both of you. Your pussy was so wet. It didn’t take much for Wakasa to push himself inside of you. He grunted loudly when he felt your delicious walls clamping around his cock. He couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. It made him question where you’ve been all his life. You squirmed at the sensation of his cock splitting your cunt apart. He was big. Wakasa searched your expression for any signs of discomfort or hesitation, but all he saw was your jaw wide open from his cock pushing inside of you. He took that as a good sign, and began to slowly rut his hips into you. He could hardly keep himself composed. You were squeezing his cock so perfectly that he swore you were made to take him.

Wakasa began to pick up his pace. Your hands began to run down your body, taking a hold of your breast. The thrill of using a blindfold was making the sex even greater than it would without it. You had no idea what he might do next, and that’s what excited you. “Wakasa..! Fuck.. you’re so good..” you whimpered, arching your back upwards from the pleasure you were receiving.

He liked hearing his name slip from your tongue like that. He could listen to your sweet voice all fucking day. Scratch that, he could fuck you all day and never get tired. There was so much to like about you. To think, just a little while ago you were serving him drinks and being a pretty little waitress for him. He disliked that Shinichiro stared at you a little longer than he would have preferred, but that idea was shut down the moment you made eye contact with Wakasa. “Yeah..? Look at you.. being so good for me, baby. You take me – shit! – so fuckin’ nicely..” he pried your legs apart further, placing them around his waist to reach into you more.

He was unable to see it, but your eyes rolled backwards behind your lids from the new angle he reached. He reached your g-spot instantly, sending deep waves of pleasure to crash along your body. This man must have known the female body much better than any other guy on this planet. He knew exactly what he was doing to make you see stars in your vision. 

Wakasa gritted his teeth at your walls, shuddering and twitching around his dick. He hated sounding so possessive, but he wanted you all to himself. He knew you didn’t belong to him and you both just met one another, but the idea of another man getting their hands on you made him green with envy. You were too good for these shitty men he knew in the world. They didn’t deserve such a kind woman, nor did they deserve the chance to fuck your perfect pussy. He wanted to be the only one to fuck you in such a manner. His dick should be the only one you thought about. It only made him want to fuck you harder and better. God, what the fuck did you do to him? Wakasa never believed in being tied down to one person, but you.. you had completely shifted his opinion on the subject. You were a little devil.

He used his hand to grip your throat. He gave it a harsh squeeze, which made your mind feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He leaned towards your ear. His deep breaths filled your ears, arousing you from how harsh they were. “Gonna make this pussy all mine, angel..” he purred. “You wanna – fuck – be mine, baby? Never gonna share you again.. I’ll give you i-it all!” 

His thrusts grew more aggressive, sending you over the edge with your mind becoming foggy with euphoria. He sounded so menacing and it made you so turned on. It stunned you, though. Wakasa wanted to keep you all to himself, yet he barely knew you. To be honest, you didn’t oppose that idea whatsoever. The thought of being Wakasa’s was not a bad one. “Y-Yes..!” you managed to choke out, considering you weren’t able to allow much air into your lungs from how tight his hold was on your throat. 

A chuckle rumbled in his throat at your reply. You were his little masochist and he couldn’t wait to see what else you were capable of. He couldn’t hide that smirk that appeared on his face when you said yes. He’d make you see that you would never regret such a decision to be his. “That’s right.. good girl, baby.” he released your throat, allowing you to inhale a breath. “Wanna see me fuck you, princess..? ‘Wanna see those pretty e-eyes look at me..” 

You nodded your head vigorously. You craved nothing more than to see his handsome face above you. Wakasa then slowed his thrusts and reached forward to pull the black blindfold down and away from your eyes. You squinted a little from the sudden rays of light that filled your vision, but your eyes then focused on the man who was fucking you. Wakasa looked so good hovering over your body. His ponytail was slightly messy and a few strands of his hair were clinging to his forehead from the sweat that formed on his skin. He was giving you a flirty smile that made your face burn. You wished you got to see him the entire time, but you were glad you got the chance to see him now.

Your hands went to rest on his muscular shoulders. His physique was quite nice and attractive. You couldn’t believe a man this handsome was fucking your brains out on a couch. “Wakasa! Fuck.. love your cock..” you made eye contact with him. Your desperate hues made him twitch inside of you. You were so so beautiful looking at him like that. 

He loved the sound of that. He then had an idea flow into his brain. He had done it before with other women, but he wanted to try it with you. He thought it’d be a nice way to remember this evening you two had with one another. Wakasa slowed his ruts and came to a complete stop, which made you somewhat upset. You thought it was unfair, because you were coming close to that delicious high that you craved more than anything else. The man then reached over to the glass coffee table that was right beside the couch. He pulled his phone off of the table and stared down at you with foggy eyes. He was breathing quite heavily and seemed almost as needy as you were. “I wanna record you..” he moved around inside your cunt, earning a cry of pleasure from your mouth. “Only if you want.. baby.” 

Being recorded? That was something you were completely new to. You had sent naked photographs and videos of yourself before, but to have a sexual encounter recorded? That was quite lewd and it was different. You worried the video might be shared with other people. You didn’t dislike the idea or anything, but your private business with Wakasa should remain behind closed doors. 

You shifted around underneath him. You were getting close to your orgasm, and you wanted to finish already. “I’ll only allow it if you promise to never share it..” you took his free hand into yours, placing it on your body. “Promise.. Waka?”

Wakasa heard your concerns loud and clear. There were many assholes out there that often betrayed the trust of their significant others by sharing those videos with others, but Wakasa wasn’t one of them. He’d never share something that intimate without your permission. He also didn’t want anyone else to see your body. He was the only person who should be able to see the private areas of you. “I promise, angel. You won’t have to worry..” he rubbed your belly with his hand softly to reassure you. 

You then gave him the nod to keep going. He started to pick up that similar pace he had prior. His tip kissed your g-spot, making your brain turn fuzzy each time he pressed against it. Your walls were beginning to spasm and close around his cock, earning several grunts from the man above you who looked fucking gorgeous. He was well aware that you were close. Heh, maybe he’d get your pretty orgasm on camera while he recorded you. He’d never stop viewing that video if that were the case.

Wakasa used his thumb to swipe over to the camera. His grip wasn’t the firmest, considering he was fucking the shit out of you, but he eventually was able to begin taping the scene in front of him. The flash appeared within the blink of an eye, and you realized you were being recorded. He grinned when your pussy quivered around him. You must have liked being on camera like that. He pushed your legs somewhat further apart to let the camera get a glance of his cock pushing your cunt apart. “Heh.. would you look at that, baby. You suck me in so fuckin’ nicely..” he cooed, shifting his gaze onto you. “You like being taped, hm..? ‘Can feel you getting nice and tight now..” 

His thumb swirled around your clit. The familiar knot in your belly was tightening with every motion of his hips. Wakasa gritted his teeth at how so fucking great he felt. He had begun to increase his assault on your cunt, allowing your cries to become much louder than before. Your volume was so high that it was likely that whoever was down this hallway heard you moaning for Wakasa. Neither of you gave much care to that fact. What were they going to do? Come to the club owner himself and argue over it? Fat chance. 

Wakasa groaned deeply when your pussy began to squeeze the life out of his cock. Your high had finally washed over you, making your thighs tremble from the affects. He was most thrilled to know that he had caught the entire thing on video. Your pretty voice calling out his name so loudly that he was sure you would have lost your voice from the high pitch. A creamy white ring surrounded his cock. You were a mess on him and the couch you were both fucking on. That was all he really needed in the department of recording you, because now it was his turn to reach his orgasm. “Fuck.. so good.. such a good girl, baby.” he then pressed the button on his phone, ending the recording and tossing it somewhere onto the floor. 

Your eyes were hazy and your body was still reeling in the affects of your climax. You felt as if you were on fire and Wakasa was the gasoline making that spark more intense. “Wakasa! N-Need you..” you whined. “Ah..!”

Those words brought a nice smile to the man’s face. The feeling was honestly mutual. He needed you just as much as you needed him. He would give you whatever you desired. “Yeah..? Don’t worry, doll. I’ll give you everything..” he leaned down, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your swollen lips. “Where do you – fuck! – want my cum, baby?” 

Although the words processed quite slowly into your brain, you wondered what would be the most fun. He could always leave his cum right on your face or on your pretty tits. That also proposed the idea of him taking a photo of it and saving it on his cell phone. Either option turned you on, but the other one made your clit throb. Wakasa filling you up crossed your mind and it was such an erotic idea. He was already opening your doors to new things like using a blindfold and recording, so why not let him cum inside you just this once? It would be nice, and you hadn’t experienced such a feeling in a long time. 

Your arms went to wrap around his neck, bringing his face towards yours. Those lazy eyes of his stared right into your fucked out ones. He could get lost within them if he stared for too long. “Inside.. please..” you sounded so desperate that Wakasa could have cum right then and there. He knew you were into things, but that? That was quite a surprise. 

But, who was he to deny your such filthy desires? He’d grant them any day he so pleased.

Wakasa began to rut his hips at that same fast pace from before. Your familiar cries returned, filling his ears like they were a song he could never get tired of. His cock began to twitch inside of you and his grip on your body was firm. He would grant you that need of wanting his cum inside you. He could only imagine what it would look like when his seed leaked out of your hole. It only made him more encouraged to keep going. He was so close. “Shit.. shit.. fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.. ‘gonna fill this pretty pussy..” he looked down at you as he spoke. 

With one last thrust, he hissed as his high hit him like a truck. His cock twitched and his balls that were slapping against your clit tightened up, allowing his cum to fill into your womb. It was quite thick and warm, sending shivers along your body from how it made you feel. Wakasa’s grip on your hip must have been tight enough to leave marks. He didn’t dare move in fear that the mess inside of you would possibly seep out, so he decided to sit there for a brief moment. Your nails drew small circles onto his shoulder, trying to recover from the affects of being completely and utterly fucked out. You weren’t sure how long you had been at it, but it must have been quite late in the evening.

Both of you were quite messy. There were many loose strands falling out of Wakasa’s once neat ponytail, and sweat dripped down his tattooed body. He still had that dreamy aura attached to him even though he looked quite exhausted. 

After several moments of silence, Wakasa pulled out of your tired cunt. Some of his cum had escaped and began to trickle down from your pussy to your ass. He thought it was one of the sexiest things he had laid his eyes upon. His cum coming out of you. What a delicious sight. Reality then dawned on him, he had another event to attend for the evening and he couldn’t remain at the club for longer than he would have desired. He had to also find out where Shinichiro and Benkei had gone. He had so much fun with you. The experience he had with you was exhilarating and nothing like he had felt before. He doubted he’d find that similar feeling with another woman.

Wakasa leaned towards the floor and grabbed his pants. You watched him begin to redress himself and you figured you would do the same thing. That familiar tires feeling you had earlier in the night had returned. The sex you had only made you more exhausted than you originally were.

He finished up much quicker than you and now he was standing by the door. He decided to say one more thing before he made his exit. As much as he wanted to just go home, duty called. “Have a good night, (Y/N). I hope to see you again.” he gave you a flirty smile, then exited the private room so you were now completely on your own. 

You fixed your skirt and buttoned up your top. You looked down at the coffee table that was directly in front of you. Your eyes fixated on a random napkin that was folded up beside Wakasa’s empty whisky glass. You reached forward and unfolded the napkin. A smile made its way to your features when you read what was written in ink on it. 

“Call me sometime, I’d love to see you again ♡- Wakasa aka Mr.Imaushi”

[qnomnstrs]

College Student! Yuji x Older! Female Reader

Yuji is 20 while reader is in 30s. No curse AU

Now that I'm on break I'm hoping to get all my drafts pushed out. Sorry if this feels rushed, im lazy.

Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral M! recieving, oral F! recieving, coercion, friends to lovers, 69 position, angst, minimal plot with porn, mentions of Uncle Sukuna, mentions of parental loss

Yuji talks in Pink

Reader talks in Blue

Word Count 2.8K

You lived close to a university, in a cul-de-sac. You purchased your own home! You lived here for 2 years now and loved it. You had a nice backyard, garage, and a two story home. It was a small two-story house but it was just for you, it worked. All the extra space let you have an office and Studio. You were living the dream. It was easy since you didn’t have any kids. During this self growth era, you have tried dating here and there, but found you work best single. You still have plenty of friends and visit often with your elderly neighbor.

The cul-de-sac was peaceful. You took up morning walks, to take in views and get out of the house. The campus was only a few blocks down, so you would even walk past all the people and scenery. You often stopped at the Café on campus or sat by the water fountain.  

The one thing that wasn’t your favorite: the boarding house across the street from your home. They had parties occasionally. They would toilet paper the cul-de-sac homes, including yours. It was young adults having fun, being independent. It’s not like they had huge parties in the movies. The noise was often controlled. Still, it wasn’t your favorite thing. Next time you bought a house you would be sure to look out for any boarding houses.

Today you found yourself cleaning up said toilet paper off your front lawn. It was officially summer and there was a big party for the graduates. You continued to pick up the toilet paper, searching over your lawn. You sighed thinking your grass was getting long again. It was such a chore to mow every week and weed wack. You looked around for any remaining pieces of toilet paper. There was some behind your shrubbery. You bent over the shrub in an attempt to clean it.

“OH! Um excuse me miss?”

You swiftly turned. A man stood directly behind you. He must have come to ask you something, right as you bent down in front of him. You didn’t even hear him approach. He was younger than you. He wore a tank top and was quite muscular. He had pink hair, which you thought was cute. We love a guy who isn’t afraid to wear pink. He had a school lanyard on his keychain, presenting him as a college student.

“Sorry didn’t see you there! Yes do you need something?”

“I was wondering if you needed any lawn services for the summer. I can mow, trim shrubs and take care of weeds.”

“Hmm well I normally do it myself because I don’t want to pay a lot for lawn care. So how much is it?”

“For your yard… its not quite half and acre, so 20 a week . 30 for shrubs and weeds”

“Wow that’s actually not bad. Are you not going home for the summer?”

“I live in the boarding house right across from you. I stay there year-round. I have lived with my uncle since I was young. He’s great but I’d like to have my own space now. I can’t quite afford an apartment yet. That’s why I’m going around the Cul-de-sac trying to mow lawns for money.”

“Well, if you want money, I suggest raising your prices”

He laughed “well it takes an hour or two per house, so I make 20 an hour on regular houses.”

“that is very true I might have to start my own lawn care business.”

“Hey! This is my block! Don’t you dare try stealing my customers now.”

You both laughed. It was really easy talking to him. The social anxiety seemed to dissipate. He has such a warm bright energy that was just so comforting.

“oh I’m sorry I forgot to ask your name. I’m y/n the owner of this house.”

“Im yuji. You seem a little young to own your own house miss” yuji said so effortlessly flirty. You rolled your eyes at his compliment. You still smiled at his charm .

“Well I definitely own it and I’m definitely like at least 10 years older than you so I’m not that young.”

Yuji scratched the back of his head and chuckled in embarrassment.  “well anyways if be happy to start this week if you’re interested.”

“sure thanks Yuji.” He waved and walked off to the next house.

 It wasn’t long before Yuji came back that week. He would bring his own mower and other supplies. You looked out the window, to confirm that it was Yuji, in your yard. You went to go grab cash and have it ready.

The summer heat kicked on early this year. The sun was beating down hard. Yuji was dripping in sweat. He took off his shirt and wiped his face. His muscular frame now exposed. You lingered at the window a bit longer than intended. He spotted you, smiled and waved. You blushed and waved, quickly moving. You didn’t want to look like you were staring, because you definitely weren’t. You decided to prepare some ice tea for him. That’s why your eyes lingered too long, was because he seemed so hot, you told yourself.

 Yuji came to the door once done. You invited him inside for a drink. He happily accepted. It was a nice break for him. Your house was in his route during the middle of the day. This was a perfect time to relax and get to chat with you. You figured others would offer him a drink as well, especially your elderly neighbor. They absolutely did but Yuji only ever accepted your offer.

A few weeks went by, Yuji came over every week and you invited him inside every week. You enjoyed the company. You’ve gotten to know him a bit better. He was such a gentleman. He was caring and sweet. His personality was so refreshing. You often looked forward to seeing him. This time though, Yuji seemed a little fidgety. He was not acting normal.

“Hey yuji are you okay? I hope the heat didn’t get to you.”

“N-no im fine I just- listen y/n, I’ve been wanting to tell you that I really like you. I enjoy spending time with you and was wondering if I could take you out sometime.” Yuji looked at you right in the eyes when he confessed. He was nervous but he wanted to show his determination. You flinched not expecting that.

“Yuji…. I appreciate the offer, but I think I will decline. You’re very nice and I like our talks but I’m a little old for you. I’ve dated quite a bit and one of my biggest things was I always said yes. Even if I wasn’t attracted to someone I said yes. I figured those feelings developed later. I realized I should be interested before I say yes. I learned to have more expectations and our age gap bothers me, I don’t think I’d feel like I’m in an adult relationship. You’re still in college too. I hope this doesn’t make you to upset. I just don’t want to lead you on. Its better to talk about it up front. You’re a very nice person, you should look for someone closer to your age.”

Yuji sighed and rubbed his face.

“honestly…..I think that made me like you even more. Thank you for being so honest. I just really like getting to know you. I admire you a lot you know? Your very mature and so well put together. That’s the type of person id want to be with. Don’t worry I’ll still clean your yard well.” He tried laughing it off. You smiled and felt a little ache in your heart. Yuji probably wasn’t feeling too well, you basically said you don’t think he is man enough to date you. He left shortly after with a smile still on his face.  

After that Yuji still continued to come every week. You still invited him inside and he still accepted. It was almost as if nothing happened, almost.

It was Saturday, your day off. It was around 10am and you still slept. Yuji wasn’t coming until 1pm. You heard a knock at the door. You went downstairs and answered.

“hey y/n sorry if I woke you up. I just finished your yard. I had a few cancelations today, so I finished a little quicker.”

“OH! no that’s okay- sorry I slept in a bit today. You still can come in, I need to grab my wallet.”

“are y-you sure? I can come back later if you want?”

You walked away to your end table by the couch. The door was still open with yuji in the doorway. You bent over not realizing you were still in your oversized shirt and no pants. Your panties were exposed for Yuji to see. His eyes widened and he stared right at your ass. You wore a plain pink thong. So, your whole ass was showing. He tried to look away, to give you some decency but he couldn’t. His eyes traveled lower to your clothed pussy. He could see the outline of your labia. The thong left little to the imagination. His cock twitched in his pants, slowly coming to life.

“yuji you’re fine come inside. I made some muffins yesterday help yourself.”

With your back still turned, Yuji rushed inside, to the kitchen. He tried getting away from you, as fast as possible. You blinked, confused why he was so rushed. Maybe he really likes muffins? You walked into the kitchen, to see Yuji stuffing his face with muffins.

“wow they must be good huh?” You chuckled and placed the money on the table. Yuji looked up and your nipples were hard. He could see the color of them too, through your sheer white shirt. He tapped his foot restlessly. His cock was now fully erect.

“Um yuji are you-“

“y/n! Please! I’m a man still you know!”

You looked at him puzzled. What did that have to do with anything? You looked down and realized you were in your night outfit. You blushed profusely.

“oh my God! I’m sorry I didn’t-“

You stopped rambling as you saw Yujis erection in his pants. He was huge. Damn thing was resting on his thigh. You gulped. Of course this damn guy had to have a thick cock. He spoke pulling you out of your thoughts. He definitely noticed you staring. He made a desperate plea in the midst of the situation.

y/n please can I-… eat you out?” He once again looked into your eyes with a fierce determination.

“what!?”

Yuji clasped his hands together, “please y/n we don’t have to date or anything just please let me eat your pussy please. God it’s all I want”

You clamped your thighs together and bit your lip. You didn’t mean to tease him like this. You forgot Yuji is still a guy with needs to. It turned you on to be wanted like this. It still felt wrong. You were sure what to do. But then again, what is exactly stopping you? Yuji is a handsome guy, killer personality, and huge cock.

“..o-okay”

“Really!?”

“yes really”

He smiled. You both got comfortable in the living room. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You went to sit on the couch.

“No I want you to sit on my face.”

“what? That wasn’t apart of the deal!”

“Please y/n just-”

“Okay fine”

Yuji laid on the couch, you carefully moved your legs around his head. You haven’t lowered yourself yet. Yuji gulped and grabbed your hips. He gently pulled you lower and slipped your thong to the side. You were now fully exposed and he got to see all of you. He groaned starting to plant kisses to your pussy. You moved your hands into his hair. You squeaked at his eagerness. He flattened his tongue and took a big lick. He lapped at your folds roughly pushing his tongue against you.

He removed his hands from your hips to unzip his pants. You couldn’t see him behind you, pulling out his cock. One of his hands went back to your hips while the other jerked himself. He wasn’t ashamed to loudly rub himself and groan into your pussy.

 He nibbled at your clit sending a wave of pleasure down your legs. Your thighs twitched as he continued. You were getting distracted by the noises behind you. You could hear the dry rubbing of his hand. He was moving up and down very fast. You started to hear squelched noises from him roughly rubbing the precum on his slit.  You bit your lip, you wanted to see his cock.

“Yuji I want to turn around it feels better that way.” You lied just wanting to watch him pleasure himself. He almost didn’t let you get up. You moved and looked into his wide eyes. You shouldn’t have. He looked so desperate. His lips were shiny coated with your fluids. You switched and planted yourself back on him. Now facing his cock.

He shoved his tongue into your hole moving it in circles. You squirmed and squeezed his head with your thighs. You gasped out and whined at his aggressive movements. Yuji was acting like he was starving.

You watched as he continued the assault on his cock. It was flushed red, especially his tip. The way he was mistreating it, dry rubbing, must have been a little painful. He was practically rubbing his cock raw. It seemed he was getting off at you watching him. He put on a little show, he was desperate for your attention.

You licked your lips. You really shouldn’t be doing this. Your brain is clouded with lust. It felt so good to be ate out. And the thick veiny cock in front of you was calling your name. Without warning you bent down, pushing his hand out the way and deep throated his cock. You groaned at the stretch in the back of your throat. You felt yuji yell into your pussy. His cock was raw and sensitive , being in your mouth was sending him over the edge. He began rapidly kissing your entrance. It was like he was thanking you. He continued sloppily kissing your pussy, fantasizing his cock was entering you pussy. Both of his hands gripped your hips pushing you harder into his face. He started lightly thrusting his cock into your mouth. You began sucking him off like it was the last cock you’d have. You went up and down. As you came up you kissed his tip and licked around the head. Yuji whined.

“Please y/n be gentle my head is really sensitive right now.”

He spoke into your pussy. You didn’t listen, however. You continued to assault his tip loving the taste of his cock. You felt this was payback for this predicament. Yuji became whiny licking your clit.

“Y/n please I can’t last long if you-“

You deepthroated him again sucking hard. As you went back up you sucked his slit. You were giving the tip of his dick a hickey. Yuji tried moving his hips, pushing you off. It was too late he came, hard. He groaned into your pussy a few times. Yuji came in your mouth, and you spit it back out all over his lap.

You were about to speak when yuji buried two fingers in your cunt.

“Wait Yuji!” You moaned, forgetting all about your pleasure for a moment.

“Y/N I wanna show you I can take care of you. I wasn’t supposed to cum first. Let me pleasure you, please”

Yuji’s fingers pumped in roughly rubbing against your walls. He hit all those sensitive spots. His fingers curled and prodded. You whined. He added his tongue back to the mix. He licked around your opening, where his fingers connected to you. He then focused on your clit, with gentle nibbles. Then he shook his hand back and forth. The sensation was something you’ve never experienced. Your pussy fluttered and you came. You squirted on his hand and face. You moaned as he continued the sensations while you rode your high. Your body tensed. No one has ever made you squirt from just fingers before. You got off of his face, catching your breath.

“What the hell was that?”

“You like that trick?” Yuji sheepishly laughed “Sorry it was payback for making me cum quick.

For a moment everyone was silent. Many emotions and thoughts surfaced. Yuji looked at you. He wanted to say something but waited for you to make the move.

“Yuji is that date still on the table?”

[sol-lar-bink]

Halaro New Ref!!! Halaro New Ref!!!

A revised, finalized look, and a lil deeper look at his electric magic (: ... I prooobably should have designed another outfit for when he's on Venostar, but the Casual look will work for now.

More info under the cut!

Name- Halaro

Age- 25

Gender- Male (He/Him)

Species- Floralian Spider

Sexuality- Bisexual

Occupation/ Job- 

During Sectonia's reign= Royal Cleaner/ Butler

After the events of Triple Deluxe = Works at Castle Dedede & also works with Puffe as part of Haltmann Works Company, Galactic delivery services.

Future - Works with Medea in her bakery 💙🧡

Bio- Halaro is a Floralian spider who grew up in Wild World with his parents. He worked for Sectonia for a few years before her demise in Triple Deluxe. Afterwards, he remains at Castle Dedede, only for adventure to drag him away from Planet Popstar and explore the galaxy!

Halaro himself is a pretty standard spider that you'd expect from Floralia. Black horns with cool ivory tips, a band of orange separating the segments. He has 6 orange diamond shaped spider eyes, two pure white eyes and orange fangs. His hair is a warm grey color, and is rather spiky, pointing downwards. The top of his hair is smooth. Six floating hands in white gloves, with a dark orange cuff and triangle pattern on the back of the gloves- and the thumb too.

As a kid he was happy and bouncy, always making friends, happy to help others... but once he got older, his personality shifted (Mostly due to his first jobs boss being such a terrible person). He keeps to himself, he gets easily irritated, he can get loud if pushed over the edge, but deep down he's still trying to be nice. The people he does care for help bring him out of that secluded shell.

Story: He grew up with his mother and father in Wild World, living in an jungle beside one of the many golden pyramids. His father was a chief leader, while his mother came from Royal Road. Halaro was a wild kid, but as he grew, he became more interested in his mothers live in Royal Road. They would go to yearly festivals, and he loved them. This was the spark that made Halaro want to live and work there.

Fast forward to him as an adult, he worked at a blacksmith with a Bonkers boss who abused and overworked him. Despite living through this nightmare, he would eventually meet Taranza, who offered him a job in the castle as Halaro had unknowingly been tending to some of the castles pieces, including some of Sectonia's jewelry.

After two long years of waiting to get in... by the time he arrived at the castle, the Queen was no longer recognizable to him.

His time in the castle was tough, but leagues better than the prior job. He started out as a simple polish boy, but would quickly become one of the main butlers.

He'd befriend Taranza and Medea, one of the maids- as well as meeting his mirror counter-part, Halara, whom he pretends is a long- lost cousin or step sister... they could never agree on an idea.

After Sectonia's fall, and Dedede destroying the Dimensional Mirror, Halaro and most of the others end up living in Castle Dedede, after he so generously offers a place to stay while Sectonia's castle is in need of repair.

Life seems chill for once, until they realize Halara can't get home with the mirror being shattered. Its pieces cleverly scattered across Dreamland by Dedede, so that it won't harm anyone again.

Halaro, Halara, Medea and a People of the Sky (PotS) named Petalia go in search of the mirror shards. Halaro teams up with Marx at one point, which leads him to sneaking into a Haltmann Works. Delivery Ship, where he would be whisked away with one of the mirror shards in his pocket.

Puffe, the delivery driver immediately punishes them and takes them to headquarters, where Susie decides the two boys must repay their actions through work. Halaro gets paired with Puffe, while Marx gets paired with Pierce.

It would be this decision that leads Halaro and Puffe on a strange quest across the galaxy, finding mirrors of similar power scattered around the various planets.

One of such is Venostar, where Puffe's ship is attacked by a strange creature, crash landing on the planet and separating the two. It is on Venostar that Halaro meets Toxecia, Sylvette, Galene and the Mage Sisters; Zan Partizanne later teaching him electric magic, sensing a potential in him.

There's more to the stories to come, but I'll save that for later!

[anittmyer]

The Feanorian Colony

. While scouting for a place to build Imladris. Elrond amd Erestor come across a Colony of elves living in the valley.

. Elrond quickly concludes that most of these elves are Noldor. Hushed whispers of Quenya, Feanorian Quenya to be exact, and old dirty banners of a eight pointed star could be seen in the windows of some homes.

. This Colony usually has many children, despite that most elves knew they'd be leaving these shores and the final wars with Sauron are still brewing.

. Ereestor and Elrons agree that this is a Colony of Feanorian loyalists, or at least the descendants of the original loyalists. Elrond and Erestor calmly introduce themselves to the Colony, but many are skittish and quickly hide their children inside.

. To gain trust, Erestor introduces himself as Erestor, son of Caranthir, and Elrond as the foster son of Maglor and Maedhros. This seems to calm some of the Elves but they remain on guard.

. The two further learn that this Colony is in fact comprised of older Feanorian loyalists and their descendants. Elrond asks them why they still remain and not sailed to Aman. The Colony collectively agree it's because they were doomed as their king and princes were.

. Erestor winces at the Feanorian elves calling Feanor and his sons "king and princes". They explain that it goes deeper than a simple dislike of Fingolfin or they believe Feanor and his sons that rightful succession. It comes to years of loyalty and service, the elder elves of the Colony remember being personal guards or escorts for Feanor when he was still a young crown prince, and many had watched his sons grow up.

. How could you hate someone you watched grow and up and protected their entire life.

. Elrond takes in their surroundings, wet and muddy ground, most of them covered in dirt and the adults half starved, no doubt to feed the elders and children first. Elrind then decides this valley will their home, all their home.

. The Feanorian Colony become the firsts residents of Imladris. Gil Galad is a bit huffy but can't stop Elrond even if he tried.

. Elrond promises to bring the Feanorians home to Aman when his role in Middle Earth is complete, and he holds to that promise.

. . .

Here we go! The Feanorian Colony AU that I want to expand! In this AU, Erestor is the son of Caranthir and was also the first friend Elrond made in Lindon as Erestor was a refugee! Reblog or comment if you want more on THAT as well!

[deadpanwalking]

Just letting you know the gfm you were working on met it’s goal and now has a new goal set

Yes! I wanted to wait until I got home so I could write something down about why supporting (and continuing to support) families through vetted fundraisers is so important—a lot of people have written compelling and incisive posts about why, but since many of of you have followed me for a while, I wanted to share a bit about my family’s experience and give some perspective that might encourage everyone to keep up the momentum.  

185,000 Soviet Jews came to the United States between the 1970s and the 1990s.  We were a kind of immigrant that’s known as a transmigrant, because we had to immigrate to several different countries before moving to the US permanently; since nobody could go to the US directly from the Soviet Union, we had to do it through a somewhat convoluted process called the Vienna-Rome pipeline. 

My parents waited over ten years for an exit visa and were rejected several times, but were finally permitted to renounce their citizenship and leave Soviet Ukraine in the 1980s—there were three adults (my parents and grandmother) and two children (me and my older brother), all in good health.  Things were a lot more relaxed in the Soviet Union by then, but my father had spent some time in jail for dissidence, so everyone involved in the process of obtaining the visas had to be bribed, and towards the end we were living in an communal apartment with eight other people to save money—that and because my parents were worried the Soviet authorities would find a pretext to arrest my father again (this had happened to our friends).  When we got to the Odessa railway station (early in the morning, without saying goodbye to anybody, just in case), we were each allowed one suitcase, a very small sum of money, and our exit visa paperwork as identification. 

We bought as little as possible on the train ride to Austria and only ate the cured meat my grandmother brought in her bag, but after two Soviet customs checks on the train, we couldn’t afford the tickets to Vienna, which was the entry point to the West, and where the Jewish relief services center was, and had to buy tickets for a station 40 kilometers outside of the city.  When the train arrived, we stayed on board and were very quiet, and the ticket inspector either forgot us or showed us a small mercy by letting us stay. In Vienna, we lived in a migrant center (which, for us, was a hotel repurposed for migrant families) with other Soviet Jewish families while the JDC helped us put together our initial immigration applications to the United States, then made arrangements to get us to Rome so we could wait there for our various documents to get processed and approved, while applying for relief aid that would help us live from day-to-day in the meantime.

That was the most difficult part.  We lived in migrant housing just outside Rome for 11 months. The Jewish relief aid services helped us out with almost everything—housing, groceries, social services, medical expenses—but it still wasn’t enough.  When you have no steady income (and, as a sovereign citizen of nowhere at all, aren’t allowed to work), every expense is prohibitive, every setback is financially devastating. We got by because local churches gave us clothing, local students volunteered to teach us a little Italian—but when I got pneumonia (twice), when my mom needed another pair of dentures, when a translator who said he'd help streamline some paperwork took our money and disappeared, our case worker reached out to help us get sponsor families in America so they could help organize financial assistance (my dad would write to thank them in Russian because his English wasn’t very good, and their Russian friend would translate—we even got to meet one of the families when we moved here, and they’re still our close friends).

It was very fucking rough. By the time we were on the plane to America, I was pulling out my hair from stress, my grandma had developed a heart murmur, and we had almost nothing we brought from Odessa left in those suitcases. 

Now read Bisan’s story.  Or Mohammed’s. Or the stories of countless others. Tell me my family’s journey isn’t a fucking pleasure cruise compared to what they're facing.  We fled political and religious persecution—but we weren’t sick, we weren’t starving, we weren’t being bombed, shot at, tortured, exterminated.  The Jewish orgs helped us so much, but people—those American families and their friends—kept us going when we were waiting for faceless bureaucrats to approve our application to exist.  And it didn’t stop when we got here, either.  So many people kept on helping. They gave us money, time, referrals, opportunities, coached us through the process of getting naturalized.

As a matter of course, I donate to and platform fundraisers that are provided by a local mosque, and I probably won't be doing too many fundraising things like this on Tumblr because I don't (despite appearances) invest as much time and energy here as I do to my offline activism—but I want everyone to understand how important it is to support these families in addition to international relief organizations.

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Visitation Rights

The Professionals is a crossover of In The Woods Somewhere and Professional//Victim, co-written with @victimeyez CW: long term captivity, (seemingly) conditioned whumpee, references to past torture, mild physical violence, and worst of all, socially awkward situations

Buck’s visits were a highlight of Tommy’s time at the lodge. He tried to make it out every couple weeks. Fletcher was omnipresent, always supervising them, but the three of them would play cards and watch movies. Once, Buck brought his gaming console from home so they could play Super Smash Bros. 

Every time, Tommy’s heart lifted from having someone around who cared to just spend time with him, just to make him happy.

And every time Buck left, Tommy would slip into a cold darkness in his mind; the stark absence of Buck’s sunshine. 

Buck knew what Fletcher put Tommy through. He knew that Fletcher was on their best behavior when he was around. And yet Buck left after only a few hours, not to return again for two or three weeks at a time. Just leaving Tommy alone to his fate. 

Buck was allowed to leave. Tommy was not. 

That bastard. With his car and his job and his apartment and his boyfriend.

Tommy felt his stomach drop when Buck had mentioned that. “My boyfriend…”

It was stupid, but it hurt to know that Buck had other relationships, outside in the real world, that he would leave Tommy for and go home to.

And yet Tommy counted down the days until Buck returned. When he walked through that door, all was forgiven. 

Buck felt like he was driving to court mandated community service, except the court was himself and the community was one person. 

His crime, then, was being the one who got out. His punishment was having to go back.

It wasn’t that bad, really, it was just… supremely uncomfortable. Fletcher didn’t do anything to him besides act like a smug asshole sometimes. The new class of trainees barely gave him a second glance. And Tommy was nice and all, and Buck could tell that he really appreciated the visits, it was just…

Tommy fawned hard for Fletcher. It was normal to expect him to be scared of them, to heed their will, but Tommy acted trained. He acted broken in.

It was gross to watch, frankly. Part of Buck judged him. He himself had learned that it was better to obey and not talk back, but he had never pretended to like it. He had never pretended to like Fletcher.   

Part of Buck hated it because it showed what would have happened to him if he hadn’t gotten out. 

When he tried to tell himself he wasn’t like that, it brought to mind all the times he had thanked Fletcher for mercy or small kindnesses. All the times he had begged and bent and told Fetcher what they wanted to hear. 

Tommy had been living this life for five years. Both he and Fletcher had said whoever had kept him captive before was even worse. Buck really couldn’t blame Tommy for becoming whatever he needed to be to stay alive.

It was still hard to witness. 

But Tommy seemed genuinely happy when Buck came over, not just a performance to keep himself out of trouble. He smiled so wide it made the scar around his eye crinkle.

Is that how Buck’s looks when he smiles?

Tommy’s nervous, eager to please attitude paired with giddy excitement of having a friend did give him the vibe of a kid who wanted to hang out with the cool, older kids. It inspired an older brother type of feeling in Buck that he’d never really experienced. He had to remind himself sometimes that Tommy was a grown adult. 

Which made the gift bag riding shotgun feel like the wrong choice, now that he was on his way with it. 

Fletcher was waiting for him outside as per usual, whittling a piece of wood. They slipped it and the carving knife into their pocket as Buck got out of the car.

Buck kept halting and hesitating as he picked up a gift bag off the passenger seat. He clutched it nervously in both hands.

Fletcher nodded at it, not having to ask aloud.

“I got him a stuffed animal,” Buck admitted, cringing slightly. “Is that, like, really infantilizing? I mean, he’s like, how old?”

“He’s thirty.”

“He’s thirty?” Buck repeated incredulously.

“I know; they kept him baby-faced and twinky,” Fletcher agreed.

“Okay, this is stupid,” Buck shook his head and began to put the bag back in the car.

“No, no,” Fletcher waved their hand at him. “He’ll like it.”

Buck hesitated again, bag frozen halfway. “You sure? Like, honestly?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Come on.”

Tommy was resolved to keep it together this time. No pinning all his hopes and happiness on Buck. Buck was just a guy who came around sometimes. Maybe he counts as a friend, or maybe just an acquaintance. A friend of a friend. Something like that. 

Tommy was sitting in bed reading when the knock came. He had tried reading outside first, but the weather was turning and the cold wind was too biting to be comfortable.

Fletcher led the way into the room and stepped aside for Buck. He was fiddling with a colorful gift bag held between both hands.

“Hey, um…” Buck toyed with the bag before holding it out to Tommy, shoulders drawn up in embarrassment. “This is for you.”

Tommy glanced at Fletcher for approval, who gave him a nod. He reached out and took the bag, heart fluttering with nervous excitement. Pulling aside the tissue paper he revealed a teddy bear.

Tommy pulled the bear from the bag and held it with both hands, staring at it. It had soft brown fur, arms and legs out, semi-stiff, somewhat curved.

“It’s designed to, like, hug,” Buck explained. “Sorry, I know it’s kinda… I know you’re an adult…”

Tommy pulled his gaze away from the bear to look at Buck, eyes shining with tears.

“This is really for me?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah,” Buck said gently. “Of course.”

Tommy clutched the bear tight to his chest, burying his face in the fur. Its limbs were perfectly shaped to embrace him back. Fuck “keeping it together.” Buck was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“I love it,” Tommy said, voice muffled. “Thank you.”

Fletcher smiled and nudged Buck. It wasn’t a cruel smirk, just a genuine, See? I told you he’d like it.

Buck inherited a small friend group when he and Nico started dating. They had recently introduced him to a board game called The Settlers of Catan. It had been a good time, and he wasn’t sure exactly how that might translate with these two, but he had decided to give it a go. 

Tommy was eager, as always. He always seemed hungry for anything new - new things to learn about the world outside, new things to try. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so pitiful. Fletcher always kept their look of detached amusement, but they would forget to keep it up as the visit moved along. Buck might have been here for Tommy, but in an odd way, this was therapy for Fletcher, too. 

Fletcher snatched the orange pieces up while Buck started setting up the board. 

“What color would you like to play as?” He asked Tommy, while he finished linking together the border pieces. 

“You pick first, I’m not picky,” Tommy offered easily.

Buck had noticed Tommy avoided making choices for himself even when he could. It felt like he should be eager to have some control where he could, but he never took the opportunity. Buck had never lost his will, not till the very end, but Tommy seemed nearly mindless on his own. 

“I’m still setting up the game, how about you pick a color in the meantime?” Buck tried gently.

“That’s okay, I can wait,” Tommy responded. “Can I help set up the board?” 

Buck looked up at him finally, and Tommy was smiling sweetly at him, an adoring look in his eyes. Did he think of as Buck another master? Tommy pandering to him gave him a sudden jolt of revulsion. 

“Don’t you want to make choices when you can?” 

Buck meant it to come out kinder than it sounded. It was a little too sharp, almost accusatory. It shouldn’t have mattered, but Tommy was very tuned in to tone and body language. His face fell and he slouched in his seat, ducking his head. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll take…” Tommy’s hand hesitated in the air; he didn’t seem to know how to make a choice for himself anymore. 

“Pick a color, boy.” Fletcher’s voice was flat. 

Tommy grabbed the nearest baggie of pieces without even looking at the color, just worriedly trying to read Fletcher’s face to gauge how much he’d annoyed them. When he looked back down at his hand and saw he’d chosen yellow, there was a tug down at the edges of his mouth. Buck almost asked him if he’d like to pick again, but there’d already been too much fuss over picking a color. Fletcher was less patient than Buck, and looked vaguely annoyed. Tommy had pulled his arms in, looking disproportionally upset, but with a grim look of determination. To play the game? To keep from crying? To associate like a normal person? Buck couldn’t tell. 

Buck explained the rules, while Fletcher flicked through the rulebook, looking up at him and then back to the book like they were checking him. They stroked their chin thoughtfully.

“Fletcher? Have you played this before?” He realized he hadn’t even considered it, though according to his friends this had been a popular game for a while. Who would Fletcher be playing board games with? The trainees? 

“No, I’m just hilarious.” 

Fletcher’s voice was entirely calm, nonchalant enough that it took Buck a moment to process. The laugh that erupted from him was mostly incredulous. Tommy had broken first, giggling, and there was a look of genuine happiness back in his features. Fletcher chuckled to themselves and started to collect the resource cards in a row in front of them. 

“I’ll play banker,” they announced.

Buck snatched them back. “Absolutely not, you’ll be stealing from the bank every second we aren’t looking!”

“Labor is entitled to all it creates, Buck.”

“Not here!”

 

When Tommy had to choose where to locate his settlements among the different paths, Fletcher would start to count down from 5. Buck ignored them and helped Tommy pick, explaining some strategy. Fletcher was more interested in maximizing the amount of sheep they could get over a real strategy, or at least, as far as Buck could tell. But they also picked places near forest sections. 

“I belong in the trees.”

Trading and bargaining was one of the best parts with his friends at home. He hadn’t thought about how uncomfortable it would be when Fletcher wanted to make alliances. Both boys had quickly gotten possessive of their imaginary settlements, and neither was eager to help Fletcher in-game for entirely out-of-game reasons. Fletcher stared at Buck. 

“Nope. No chance.” 

Fletcher’s eye twitched. They leveled their gaze at Tommy.

“I don’t have any wheat, sorry.” He carefully kept his hand out of Fletcher’s vision. 

Fletcher flicked their proposed trade, one of the many sheep cards they now held, onto the table in front of Tommy.

“Yep, yeah, sure,” Tommy chirped, intimidated easily into handing over a wheat card. 

“Dishonesty is unbecoming of you.”

“Yes Fletcher, I’m sorry Fletcher.”

“Uh-huh.”

It was still playful enough, goofy enough, that Buck almost felt like he was still playing with normal people. If anyone else had intimidated so seriously over Settlers of Catan, it would have been really funny. With Fletcher, it was still pretty funny. Or Buck was as fucked as both of them - a likely possibility. 

Fletcher beat Buck by a narrow margin, mostly because he and Tommy were much less aggressive players. They ended up doing a few rounds, and Buck won twice. Tommy got the last game by stealing from Fletcher. Buck was 97% sure Fletcher wouldn’t punish him for that. After that, they had dinner, and wound up talking a while longer over an evening pot of coffee. 

When it came time for Buck to schedule his next visit, Fletcher pulled out their phone to look at a calendar.

“You have a smartphone?” Buck asked incredulously.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Well, you play music off of like a 2005 ipod nano,” Buck said. “I guess I expected you to have a flip phone. Or a jitterbug.”

Fletcher scoffed, chuckling lightly as they said, “First of all, it’s not from 2005.”

Tommy was having a great evening, after his blunder. It really felt like he was just hanging out with friends, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in five years. Tommy wanted to play along. He wanted to be part of the group, be able to joke and rib with the others. He wanted to belong. 

“Yeah, I thought I was the one who was cut off from the world for five years,” Tommy laughed.

Buck grimaced and tried to hide it by forcing a smile and a nervous chuckle. He watched Fletcher warily.

Fletcher’s attention had locked onto Tommy. They didn’t laugh. There was a ghost of a smirk on their face, a hint of amusement in their eyes. But it wasn’t because they liked Tommy’s joke. It was more of an, “Ohhh, you fucked up, bud,” kind of look. 

Tommy felt his cheeks flush. He knew he was in trouble. Buck knew he was in trouble. He had absolutely killed the vibe.  

Buck hesitated, coat and boots already on.

“You know, it’s still early…” Buck began.

“It will be late by the time you get home,” Fletcher responded without taking their eyes off of Tommy.

“Well… I don’t work tomorrow.”

“Nico will wonder where you are.”

Buck stammered, trying to think of an excuse to guard Tommy with his presence. Tommy knew it too, eyes flickering nervously between the two of them.

Eventually he just said, “Fletcher, would you like to walk me out to my car?”

“Sure, Buck,” Fletcher said easily, finally tearing their gaze off of Tommy.

As soon as they had both stepped out of the house and Fletcher had pulled the door shut, Buck turned to them.

“It was nothing,” he said immediately.

“What was?” Fletcher asked lightly, playing dumb. 

“Come on,” Buck said. “It wasn’t even an insult.”

“I don’t feel insulted.”

“Fletcher, I saw your face. Just… you don’t have to do anything.”

“Buck, there’s a delicate balance here.”

“You know he’s not gonna… what, rebel, or whatever you’re worried about. He just wanted to act like we were all friends for a moment. He was having fun.”

“We’re not friends, though, are we?”

Buck shifted from one foot to another. 

“Please take it easy on him. I remember how you strangled me when you thought I rolled my eyes at you.”

“You did roll your eyes. And you didn’t do it again, did you?”

Buck dragged his fingers through his hair, cupping his hands behind his head. 

“I’m… I’m begging.”

Fletcher laughed. “We both know this isn’t you begging.”

There was a tense silence.

“How can I convince you?”

Fletcher shrugged.

“I’m asking a favor as a friend.”

Fletcher scoffed. “That is a very consequential sentence in my line of work, but you wouldn’t know that. Look, I’m not going to kill him, alright? I’ll probably just like… smack him and give him a lecture or whatever.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not gonna like… suspend him from his wrists in the basement or something?”

Fletcher gave Buck a look. “Buck, I did that to you when you tried to kill me, not made a joke at my expense, Jesus.”

“Okay, alright.” Buck did a rotation, looking at his car and looking back. “I just feel bad leaving him…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Fletcher made a gesture of pushing him towards his car. “Go home.”

Buck reluctantly did as he was told, not knowing what else to do. No matter how many days or months or miles apart, no matter how much he owned for himself or how much life he lived on his own, Fletcher still controlled him. And he hated himself for it, but he drove away.

When Fletcher walked back inside, Tommy had disappeared. They went to his room first, expecting to see him sitting on the bed with his knees tucked to his chest waiting for them, but it was empty. 

Fletcher ducked down to check under the bed before stepping back out into the hallway. They weren’t about to play hide and seek with this guy, so they put their fingers to their tongue and whistled loudly. 

Tommy slinked out of the dark bathroom, smart enough not to ignore the call.

“You hiding out in there?” Fletcher asked.

“I was just… sittin’ in the tub.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow and gestured Tommy over. He kept his head bowed and sank to his knees in front of them.

Fletcher’s scowl twisted. They were going to order him to do that, and Tommy doing it himself kind of took the wind out of their sails.

“Hey, look at me,” Fletcher said.

Tommy raised his head, and Fletcher slapped him hard across the cheek. They grabbed his face and aimed it back toward themself. He earned another slap when he tried to look away, instead forced to make eye contact. His eyes were wide and scared.

“Your playtime with Buck is a privilege I can take away, just like anything else. Don’t go getting fucking bold. We can play house and you can enjoy your room with a view and three meals a day and all the other bullshit I allow you as long as you know your place. You stay well behaved and things can be good. Understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher,” Tommy bleated remorsefully, his voice somewhat muffled by their grip. 

“Don’t try to fucking mock me again or I won’t be so lenient,” Fletcher added, give his head a shake for emphasis. Tommy clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut against the jarring wrenching.

“I really didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Tommy gritted out.

Fletcher released his face so he could speak clearly. Tommy flexed his jaw.

“I just got… a little caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again. I am sorry, Fletcher, I wasn’t trying to be insulting,” he repented, clasping his hands together.

“Hmph. You’re dismissed.”

Tommy rose to his feet. He was dewy eyed, but looked surprised to be getting off so easily.

“Thank you, Fletcher.” 

He bowed his head and hurried off to his room. 

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[radiojamming]

My apologies if you've already answered this somewhere, but do we know what Charles Hartnell did for a living/what his life was like after losing his older brothers?

Hi there!

Charles Hartnell trained at Chatham Dockyard for several years and ended up becoming a shipwright like his father, grandfather, great-grandfather etc. At one point, in the 1881 census, he was a lead shipwright at the yard.

He married Hannah Owen in 1852 when he was 24 years old and had five children with her, including his son Thomas (!!) who worked as a steam engine draftsman at Chatham. In the census records, it shows that all of his children were educated (listed as 'scholars') and one of his daughters became a schoolteacher. I've heard that Charles seemed to prize education and was insistent on his children being literate and making something of themselves.

As to what his life was like after his brothers' deaths, it's hard to say. I do know he wrote quite a few letters to the Admiralty which are currently held by his family and not available to the public. The letter declaring John's death and debt was delivered to him personally, and Thomas' Arctic service medal was also delivered to him. He seemed to be the most insistent on preserving their memory, as his descendant Donald Bray was the one who provided the "may we be spared to meet on earth" letter to researchers and his other descendant Brian Spenceley was the one who served as photographer to his great-great uncle's exhumation and provided a painting of Charles as an adult.

(HARTNELL NOSE! REDDISH HAIR! YEAH!!!!!)

Here's an article from 2014 about Spenceley talking about his family and seeing John Hartnell's body in person, as well as showing the picture of Charles.

I do wish we knew more about him and his thoughts and feelings about his brothers. All we currently have are a few comments from his now-famous letter (which includes a phonetic spelling of his Kentish dialect!):

Dear Brothers  This comes with my kind love to you hoping it find you both in good health as thank god it leaves me at present. It is nearly three years since we parted but I hope it will not be that time before we meet again. There has [written as 'their as’!] been great changes taken place since then. [...] But if I tell you all the news now I shall have none to tell you when you come home which I hope will not be long as three long years have nearly passed away[.] [...] I wish you a prosperous passage to return safe home as no more at present from Your Affectionate Brother Charles Hartnell

[noxturnalmoth]

Literary Service

Summary: Life is a cruel mother but a great teacher. In Noxus, where life is but an afterthought, war raises its people with an iron fist. Whether they like it or not. So when one is courageous enough to escape, they learn to take all that life has to offer, even if it has to be by the skin of their teeth. What would happen if the scholarship that provided you with an escape made you encounter a man as great with his words as he is with hiding the festering wounds in his heart? And what if he was your teacher?

Warnings: Canon violence

Word Count: 2, 674

Masterlist: here

Prologue - A Parting Gift

There is peace in water, like it's holding you. The waters of your life had been calm, a peaceful tranquility cradling you as the sun warmed your soft body to keep it from getting cold. A peaceful commune, children and adults living in a casual, repetitive, yet gentle dance as days, seasons and years passed. There was something beautiful about the smiles on their faces as the older ones were hard to work, as the babes played, as the elders counted their stories full of wisdom…The beauty in the simplicity. You knew that perfection didn't exist, that it was a myth just like so many of the stories you heard whispered before bedtime in the dim lights. But even if it didn't exist, you knew that this small piece of the world you called home was as close to it as you could get.

Green hills in the spring, speckled with flowers of all colors and sizes. Turning golden from the wheat in the summer, a soft breeze russling the maturing spikes. Sienna in the autumn as they were covered with burnt orange leaves, crumbling to petrichor when the rain came and feeding the earth. Barren dirt covered in a thick blanket of white snow in the winter, like a child tucked into bed lovingly by its parents. It was as if all of those stories of Heaven told by grandparents had taken form here, like Kindred had blessed you with a taste of the kingdom in the sky without hushering you into the afterlife.

But smiles and soft voices turned into horrified faces and haunting wails. The soft golden light of the sunset had been usurped by an angry, burning orange destroying all in its wake, leaving soot black, grey ash and blood red after its passage. The playful breeze was crumbling houses, marching, blades cutting through flesh. Family, friends, reduced to either a bloodbath, or a chained submissive mess. Soaked in the smell of burning corpses and in the sweat, tinted red from holding those who were stolen from you.

You had heard about Noxus. A nation of unyielding strength, ever growing from wrestling children out of their parents' arms, indoctrinating them into their cult of blood and violence. Adults were given a choice, albeit only in name. A refusal could only hasten one's death, the bells carried by the monsters invading peaceful homes. That day, you learnt just how ruthless mother war was; for it was the day you became a cog in her machine. Chained and dragged forward, feet bloodied, knuckles raw, voice ripped from your throat by wails of pain and sorrow. A walk that went on for weeks, seldom were you given food nor water, and rest was but a fleeting moment that you could only stretch for so long until your decaying spirit was forced back on its morbid march to hell.

The second the great spiked walls of The Immortal Bastion came into view it was as if all the kindness Kindred had spared you all your life was ripped from you. The vision of home, your personal heaven, finally corrupted even in your fantasies. Long gone was the lamb, and as you passed the grand gates you knew you had just entered the wolf's maw. Filled with rows of sharp pointed teeth that grazed you teasingly, the stench of death permeating your senses, darkness eating away at your vision as the unbearable heat of the mouth had you squirming, the screams of the others before you resonating from within the wolf's stomach as the beast took its time chewing you alive. Painfully and agonizingly slow.

To Noxus you were unrefined metal. You were stripped of everything but your name; your dignity, your grief, your memories, your humanity and the feelings you clung onto. They melted you, body burning in the boiling showers, muscles straining from the excruciating training, strategies and politics burnt incessantly into your young mind , eyes forced to look at images one could only describe as war crimes if they needed to understate their gravity. They beat out your impurities, breaking your body down and forcing it back up time and time again until what was a hellish training became an easy routine. Until your mind had closed to love, to compassion, to sympathy. Although rifles were better to keep human losses to a minimum, Noxus had a different idea than the rest of the world and built their warfare around melee weapons. Spears, fists, blades of all types, all forged of the strongest alloy in Runeterra; held within the hands of the deadliest forces in the lands, forged as expertly as the weapons they mastered.

Your new masters had one rule: complete and total obedience. And while Noxian born soldiers were allowed to be treated as humans, people like you who were stolen from their homes and stuffed into their new mold were expected to be loyal to a fault. Mindless and bloodthirsty canon fodder that was at the front of all conflicts, shredding flesh before getting annihilated themselves. Of all of those of your hometown, only you were left. Nothing left to hang on to. But even if all you had was the body you were born with, your soul still dared deep down to hope for something better. So silently and dimly that sometimes you didn't even believe you still felt that spark, that weak flickering flame suffocating at the same time you did. But you were lucky you mastered the art of controlling yourself, keeping all the gentle kindness you still had protected and cradled in your heart, hiding the disgust you held for your captors, but most importantly you kept your rage under lock and key deep within the dark recesses of your mind.

What began as an all consuming, bubbling and violent rage, akin to a rumbling volcano; became something sinister, mixed with self hatred spurred on my the blood and guts you were forced to spill, that rage that used to be sputtering magma froze over. Obsidian planes a dark black while snow fluttered and covered it in a monochromatic hellish landscape. It was biting, it was burning, the wind felt like blades slicing through skin, flesh and bones; the burning hands and faces reaching from the lava now immortalized into morbidly groaning statues, their faces, pleas and wails forever engrained in your mind, beneath your eyelids. And it was all hidden inside you while you tried desperately to keep the last sliver of your humanity alive, hoping to whatever God may listen that this hatred will never corrupt it.

Being a tool never just was about war in the nation of Noxus though. Sometimes you simply had to act as a bodyguard to a member of one of the most notorious families around, or stand guard at the gate. You had to listen to and transcribe the ramblings of bloodcrazed war chiefs and manipulative, elegant intellectuals that couldn't be bothered to write their notes so they could listen to their own voices. And albeit militia like you was prohibited from accessing knowledge other than warfare and politics, as you climbed the ranks and were allowed to listen to such ramblings you could learn more about the outside world. The technological advancements, the social events, the latest frivolous gossip…and specific informations about academics whether in specific subjects or about certain happenings like school fairs, new schools and scholarships.

No matter what it was you were forced to listen to and transcribe you always drunk the information in. You were no idiot, you were no genius either, but if there was one thing you could be proud of was your ability to retain information and to fill in the gaps, to create pertinent and coherent theories. So all that was uttered and written always ended up copied in your notebook with your latest thoughts and ideas, hidden in a cut made in your mattress as you feigned total obedience, hanging on, although barely by a thread, to the last shred of yourself you had. That day you heard about the Zaun Technical College, which had opened a handful of years prior, after the nation had finally gained sovereignty and separated itself from its gilded, more beloved sister Piltover. With Zaun's rise as a nation of its own it had changed for the better, the air quality was improved, the sun could finally shine down on it without the gigantic plants and buildings Piltover had placed there simply to hinder it, jobs were flowing, houses were built and rebuilt, fields and farms were popping up to produce locally, economics were booming and education was slowly democratized as were the arts. All due to a group of special operations soldiers that gave their lives for the cause of the nation, for their people. And in the center of all of this the ZCT was extending scholarships to students from near and afar, coaxing young curious minds into getting their education in the newly formed "Land of the Zealous".

So, with a heavy heart and waning hopes, you took a sheet of paper and wrote, wrote as if your life depended on it, because it did. You used the poise and poetry you learnt from the pompous nobles, the determination that had you hanging onto your humanity by the skin of your teeth, the will that was forged into you by years spent as a weapon in the deadly hand of Noxus. You spoke of your ideas of seeing the world beyond the walls, of reading all the books in their grand library, of writing stories and poetry to inspire hope and determination into the hearts of the downtrodden, to express your desires and your emotions. You spoke about writing your soul into a frenzy, about learning to be but also finally living as a human and about how you would spend all your life studying litterature if you had to, so you could soak up all of what could create the meaning of what "human" really means. Signing your name was the last and, if you must admit, hardest part. It was something of which the meaning had been trampled, corrupted and bloodied, but it was the name you were born with and you'll be damned if you don't reclaim it back, even if it's silently within the flickering flame of your soul.

You heard of some of the militia trying to escape, but they were always few and far between. If they succeeded it was always at a price, a steep price, because none could escape without getting found out. The walls had eyes and ears, and even as you discreetely placed the letter adressed to the Zaun Technical College board into the letterbox, you knew deep down that you could not let your guard down because something could and would go wrong and you had to be prepared. You put in your adress as one of the scholars' you wrote notes for, knowing the self-centered man would never open the mail himself and have you do it instead. So weeks pass, another campaign is fought and new scars litter your body, but as you arrived at the gilded home and opened the letterbox you saw it, a letter adressed to you with a neat hadwriting showcasing the sender as the ZTC. So, controlling your breath and body language you sneakily slipped that letter in your clothes under your skirt where the belt cinched above your plump stomach warm with softness and underlying hard built muscle, the extra padding serving to protect from harm and warm the body when temperatures fall; a warrior's body.

The day passes as you wrote down the ramblings of the extravagant man, and once you were settled back home you scribbled down in your journal all that you have absorbed before softly yet shakily opening up the letter.

Dear visionary,

the board was positively surprised to see a well read and poised person such as yourself hailing all the way from Noxus, a land that favors the strong of body yet seems to forgo the intricacies of the mind. You have intrigued us with your passion and deep emotional connection to the world that surrounds you, the humanity and energy that embibed every word spoken by ink on paper. We felt sucked into your world, into your mind, as we read what could be one of the most beautiful letters we have been written. You are formerly extended the invitation to attend the Zaun Technical College as a litterature major. Once you have arrived to Zaun and get to the administration of our college, present this invitation to be given the keys to your dorm and your schedule.

We welcome you into this new chapter of your life,

ZTC board.

Simple and concise, and as you read a small smile stretches on your face, growing bigger as you skim your eyes over the paper again and again. Folding the letter properly back into the enveloppe then enclosing this one within your handful of notebooks you pick a satchel, stuffing those in it aswell as a few clothes and all of the money you've been saving up. You slip away, as silent as an owl's flight, making one with the shadows as you crack a guard's neck, sneaking past him into the passage. Shadows lunging at you, discarding your bag and muffling all your noises as hands hold you in place, comrades you've fought with mindlessly beating your body as they rant about how betrayal meant death in Noxus, about how you turned away from your own people. And as they kept on talking, attention waning as they thought they undermined you, you lunged forward and rolled carefully making sure you broke my captor's nape before you got up. A group of nine against one was surely not respectable, but you had to fight, you had to survive, because a new future awated you.

So you dodged and took hits, bruises and cuts littering your body as you dished what you were dealt. Number could only do so much against a veteran, and they learnt that the hard way, arms and legs broken in grips that were carved into your mind. Punches were dealt with the precision and lethality of a bloodstarved beast. Bodies were thrown, spines cracking by a strength honed over the years of carrying the mental and physical weight of hundreds of dead bodies. Even after a rock was smashed in your upper back, you fought, dropping to the ground and sweeping your legs before you smashed the man's head with the stone he used to break you. Someone using the distraction to wind around your left leg, breaking your tibia, and holding it out for another to smash with a brass knuckle at the ankle shattering the bone there. But no matter the pain, you turned yourself and the assaliant holding your leg, sweeping under his comrade with your right leg, punching his face until their teeth were swallowed and their chest caved in one last shakingbreath. Crawling towards the last militiaman, they crawl backwards. No matter how indoctrinated, you weren't in the wolf's maw anymore, it wasn't chewing you until nothing was left; no, at that moment you were the wolf, and as you enclosed a hand around their shuddering throat adrenalin helping you stand up on a shattered leg and lift the man in the air, he knew it. There was no stopping you, even half dead. He whispers an apology as his windpipe is crushed. You limp, heart rushing you forward as you grab your satchel and leave, as quickly and as far as you can afford.

Pained but lighter, you walk forward, no scream or complaint leaving your cracked lips. Your body burning, leg howling in pain, back screeching in discomfort, and cheeks stinging as a smile makes its way to your face. No matter if Noxus left you with a parting gift.

You were going to make it, and you were not going to falter.

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