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[tidytray]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 7

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Your body is stiff. You blame your late-night drawing session hunched over the folding table. You feel it in your neck and shoulder. You sit up and groan, rubbing your muscles as you try to loosen the knots. You roll your arms as you stand up, yawning as you rub your eyes. 

A dewy breeze flows in. The air feels like rain but the density has yet to break. You remember vaguely in the middle of the night cracking the window to cool off, your room stagnant and stale. 

You near the window in your baggy shirt, dampened slightly with your sweat. It’s caught under your chest as you bulge against the fabric. You pull it free as you stand in front of the pane and blanch as you see movement on the other side. Shoot. 

Your eyes meet Steve’s as he closes the window across from yours. He can feel the approaching storm too. He smiles and gives a two-fingered wave. You lift your hand weakly, barely extending your fingers before you tug shut the curtains. How much did he see? How much could he see? 

You go out to get the day started. The overhead light of kitchen blares yellow across the space and you put the coffee pot on to brew. As you wait, you tidy the table, once more cluttered with your mother’s forgotten distractions. The crossword book, several pens, a home magazine, and several wrappers. 

You slow the pour of coffee into your mug as you hear your mom’s bedroom door. You stare at the doorway until she appears. She limps to the table and sits heavily. You put the cup before her and grab another for yourself. She mutters and leans her head in her hand. She was home late last night. 

You go to grab her inhaler from the bathroom. Once more, it’s missing. You return and find it on the counter hidden beside a used plate. It's only then you notice the blackened frozen fries on the cookie sheet. What the heck? 

“Ugh, that man,” she croaks, letting it roll into a laugh, “he convinced me to have a little wine after the milkshake.” You put her inhaler in front of her. She raises her head and scowls. She rubs the furrow between her brows. “And then another. And another.” 

You don’t even remember her getting home. You were up until one in the morning drawing. She must have been much later. How hadn’t you heard her make all this mess? 

You sip your coffee around cleaning up. You wash the glass from the milkshake Steve brought over and set it aside. Your mother hacks and clears her throat. 

“Mm, he’s too nice,” she mutters, “told him you didn’t need that. Too much sugar. You don’t even like strawberry.” 

You hide your frown. You like strawberry. You’re not sure why she thinks otherwise. She’s never really asked. 

“I’ll bring the glass back--” 

“You remember your manners,” she girds before she hums into her coffee cup. She gulps through her wet lips noisily. “I don’t need you ruining this.” 

“I will, mom.” 

“Ugh,” she stands up with a groan, “I need my chair.” 

Her hand trembles and the cup with it. She spills a little over the sides but doesn’t pay attention to it. You dump the tray of burnt fries and put it in the sink. You just cleaned this place top to bottom. You don’t think you’re that messy but it’s always a disaster. 

You clean the rest of the dishes and put them away. Your mom hollers for more coffee and you bring the pot with you to refill her cup. She leans it on her chest and closes her eyes. 

“I’m going to take the glass back now, I guess.” 

“Mph, do whatever,” she utters irritably. 

You trod back to your room and change into real clothes; straight-legged jeans and a stripped jersey tee. You just want to get this over with. It’s so awkward. You would rather your mom just take it back the next time she goes over but she’s in rough shape. It must be the alcohol. She’s not really supposed to have any. 

You grab the glass and put on your shoes. As you come out, there’s a speckling of rain falling from the sky. You go up the walk and around the sidewalk, coming back down the pavement squares to Steve’s porch. You stop and look up at his front door. You climb the steps and drag your feet to the door. 

You tap the bell. It’s one of those ones with the camera built-in. You feel overly conscious as you stand before the lens. The door opens before you can prepare yourself. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve greets, “how are you?” 

“Erm. Okay. Here.” 

You hold out the glass. He doesn’t take it. He leans on the doorframe and smile. 

“Crummy day, huh? Supposed to thunderstorm soon,” he comments, “too bad, I was really wanting to get that pool going.” 

“Mm, yeah,” you keep the glass raised before you. 

“Oh well, guess I’ll have to figure out what to do all pent up. Maybe a movie night? With all this moving, I’m way behind.” 

You look at his chest, staring at the short-sleeved button up with chagrin. What is he talking about? Why is he talking so much? 

“You got any suggestions? You youngins always know what’s hip,” he shakes his head and laughs, “sorry, I sound old, don’t I?” 

“No,” you answer dully. 

“No what? No suggestions or no I don’t sound old?” He challenges. 

Your eyes go round and you look him in the face. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m teasing--” 

“Here,” you wiggle the glass at him. 

He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours. You let it go and recoil. You bare your teeth strangely and back away, “thanks, er. Bye.” 

You turn and cringe at the grey sky. You trudge off the porch and cut across the lawn, too mortified not to trod over his grass. You clamber up the front steps and quickly shut yourself inside the house. You hiss at yourself as you press your back to the door. 

“Don’t slam the goddamn door,” your mother sneers, “Jesus. No wonder this place is falling apart.” 

🏠

It’s one of those days where you’re just sad. You can’t pinpoint why. It’s just a vague malaise that won’t leave. Even as the sun beams and deepens to a soft evening hue, you can’t see a light among the dark. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been like that. Under your covers, crying for no good reason. It just hurts to be. You keep your arm folded over your pounding head. You just want to sleep and yet you can’t cross the barrier into unconscious. 

You give up and roll onto your back, pulling the blanket to your waist. You exhale and stare up at the ceiling. You’re head swims from the deluge of tears. You sop them up with the sheet and sit up. Your head is full and throbbing. 

You get up, bleary-eyed, and muddle your way through reality. You pull open your door and find the bathroom on instinct alone. You shut yourself in and blow your nose. The effort has you even more dizzy. You shake your head, trying to clear out the fog, and turn on the cold water. You throw it across your face, holding a wet palm to your forehead to try to ease the tension. 

Your ears tickle with a strange noise. A low drone. Like bass on the front television. Now and again, your mom will amp up the TV but it’s unexpectedly loud. You twist off the faucet and stand straight. You dry off and head back into the hall, peering down at the shifting light glaring from the living room doorway. 

“Woahhh,” the voice catches you unaware as someone collides with you from behind in the dim hallway. You stumble and turn to face Steve as popcorn scatters onto the floor, tumbling over the brim of the bowl. The smell tugs at your stomach, “sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there.” 

You look at his silhouette, unable to make out any of his features. You didn’t even know he was there. Your mother didn’t even warn you. You suspect that may have been purposeful. 

“Sweetie?” 

“Sorry,” you back up, “didn’t mean... to get in the way.” 

You turn and shuffle back to your room. He follows, “your mom said you weren’t feeling good. Hope you get better soon, but if you’re interested, we’re watching a movie.” 

Your bedroom door is wide open. If you’d known, you would’ve been sure to shut it tight. 

“No, thank you,” you grab the handle and slowly shift the door behind you. 

“No problem,” he calls after you, “offer stands if you change your mind.” 

You click the door shut gently and stay on the other side, listening for his footsteps. He lingers, a bit too long, and it’s only as he walks away that you go back to your bed. There’s something strange about him. Or maybe it’s just you. 

[drak3n]

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE: PROLOGUE

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: the launching of a new platform magically re-connecting seperated people has shaken the entirety of social media. after many months of contemplation and denial, you give in to your urges.

ꨄ. SENA’S NOTE: this merely serves as a way to introduce all eight parts of the mini-series! as they’re all characters from different fandoms, there clearly won’t be names or any specific action in this! so this is a little short :)

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE MASTERLIST

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

everywhere.

it was everywhere you went. following you around like it was your shadow, cornering you at any given possibility.

you knew the drill. once something went viral anywhere, it would stick around for some time and then be forgotten.

that wasn’t the case with this damn live show. not at all. the first time it had been announced on international tv must have been ages ago, like around the beginning of the year. yet, the hype never seemed to die down, with more and more people freaking out online and in real life about how it changed their lives.

you were convinced it was a scam. like come on, who even believed in a fairy tale like that? being reunited with a lost lover, or any kind of lover who it didn’t work out with?

there was a reason it hadn’t worked out. because if there wasn’t, you’d still surely be with that person.

it started with trailers being shown on every channel you zipped through, announcing free slots for their newest season and putting emphasis on their confidentiality. how people had the choice to stay anonymous while spilling their private and embarrassing matters to so-called love experts.

such bullshit.

now, it went way past that. you ended up avoiding watching tv, just to literally be haunted by that cursed show in other ways. through flyers and stickers flying around, through posters hung up on subway stations and even inside of said subways, hell, a couple of days ago, there was even an airship promoting it.

TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE. a silly name for a concept just as silly as that.

what did you have to do again to apply?

right, as if there was any way of forgetting with how much your coworkers were babbling about it. they made sure to remind you of that every day.

“i’m still thinking if i should just call them the next time and try my luck,” you heard one of many tell another while you were waiting in the line for your lunch. “i really, really want to make up with my ex. they’re my only hope.”

their conversation went on for many more minutes, and you were glad when you finally were next in line to greet the lunch lady with a tired smile. as she filled your tray in a halfhearted manner, your smile quickly faded away upon hearing her talk to a fellow worker behind the counters.

“my son and his teenage love reconciled after he applied there. they are awaiting their first child soon!” the elderly woman gushed while placing a cup of pudding onto your tray, waiting for you to scan your employee id before you shuffled away from the line to plop down on an empty space in the crowded lunch hall.

it was all the same. love, love, love. always those same old problems. getting dumped, being abandoned, or doing the dumping and abandoning.

regret, sadness, frustration, desperation.

you came home that sane evening with thoughts plaguing your mind; with the big question if those were all signs for you to see. if everything you’d been hearing and seeing for these past couple of months were meant to open your eyes, somehow. to get the hint.

making a beeline to your bedroom, your eyes darted to the package placed on your bed. still untouched and waiting to be sent. the pastel pink stamp had been placed on the corner of the box yesterday by you. those fuckers made so much money with their hit show that they distributed stamps, to force them to send more drama their way for them to indulge in.

it was stupid that you had even put in the effort to package what was meant to have been tossed away long ago. it might or might not have been long yet, but why did you keep that?

as a writer, you couldn’t contain yourself. even back then, you had always known you’d end up becoming anything connected to writing, journaling, whatever. it was almost annoying how you used to document all those feelings you couldn’t put into words.

specifically writing letters had always been your passion. writing down your heartbreaks and grief into words and making them come to life on paper.

words you failed to tell him.

the recipients were all written on the envelopes inside the box, some years ago, and some recently, and you didn’t even know if they were still the same addresses.

for some, you knew for sure they weren’t.

even if the cast of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE — if they picked you, that is — wouldn’t find their current addresses, you were for sure going to be relieved. those letters had been a significant burden on your heart ever since you had written them.

for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel any kind of satisfaction from writing. these letters existed to be sent. and you were realizing it just now.

they were meant to be read aloud, understood. they had to be read by others for you to be at peace with your unresolved feelings.

the very next morning, you handed the package to the post office, bidding farewell to years of bottled-up and hidden feelings.

it wasn’t until a week later that you received a letter, with the same pink stamp and sender the same you had sent your letters to. you found yourself reading it in front of the door to your apartment:

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

dear contestant,

we thank you for your package and were enthralled to read about your experiences. upon short discussions within our team of experts, we soon decided to choose your case to present in our next live airing, which is going to be this saturday!

the letters have already been sent out to their respective addresses — some of which we had to adjust as there have been changes.

it is up to you if you want to join us for our next airing — it be via call or even by showing up at our studio! we will welcome you in any case and make sure you will reunite with one of your lost loves.

please do not worry, as we will handle all of your data with the utmost care and make sure that none of it is leaked for other purposes.

up until then, stay lovely and trust the process!

ꨄ. your TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE cast

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

PROCEED TO OPEN LETTER

THE LOST LOVE ꨄ TOJI FUSHIGURO

THE ONE NIGHT STAND ꨄ HIROMI HIGURUMA

THE NEMESIS ꨄ ATSUMU MIYA

THE BEST FRIEND ꨄ KEN RYUGYJI

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS GONE WRONG ꨄ SHUJI HANMA

THE FORBIDDEN LOVE ꨄ LEVI ACKERMAN

RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIMING ꨄ TOUYA TODOROKI

THE BOY NEXT DOOR ꨄ SHOUEI BAROU

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 7!

Werepanther! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut (18+), voyeurism, exhibitionism, use of sex toys, just.... absolute dumbassery.

For my loves, @idaofinfinity, @marvelmusing, @stardustmorozov, @frying-panties, @iamgettingalife, @icannotbetrustedalone, @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend. Some of the people that never fail to hold me upright when I feel like a.... limp, barely watered plant. 😅❤

"Are you following?" He asks.

You give him a slow nod of your head.

"I'm thinking." You answer.

You scrunch your eyebrows slightly together, absentmindedly tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, biting down.

He shifts a little bit in his chair.

"We should definitely split these two systems, too much foot traffic puts the auxiliary at risk."

You get lost in thought, looking off into the  corner of his office, thinking aloud about the specs necessary to make the system better.

You catch yourself, blinking in realisation that you'd been zoned out for the better part of a minute, turning back to him, to find him staring at you with the strangest expression on his face.

"Sorry- bad habit of zoning out. Where were we?"

His mouth pulls into a slow smile, you feel the pace of your heart pick up in your chest.

"Do you like strawberries?" He asks, a curious tilt of his head.

The sudden conversation shift makes you a little nervous.

You gulp.

"Yeah, they're my favourite." You respond simply.

"Great, one of our clients sent us a thank you gift," he murmurs, reaching into the mini fridge that sits beside his desk, and pulling out the cutest little tray of strawberries, "but they sent way too much. Would you like some?"

Your fingers twitch, eyes carefully assessing the plump fruit, mouth watering at the beautiful sight of them.

"You're sure it's okay?" You ask, meeting his eyes.

William nods, extending the little box to you. You reach out to cup the tray between both hands.

"They sent about five of these, you can have the entire thing if you'd like."

"Thank you, Mister Russo." You say happily as the little tray rests in your hands.

"No, wait, one condition." He says, you look up at him in surprise.

"Call me Billy? Please?"

It takes you a moment, eyes flitting between the strawberries and his handsome face.

"Okay, Billy."

The smile you share is something... more. You feel a connection, trace its way down your spine, something like friendship blooming between you.

"Would you like one?" You offer, extending the tray to him after picking up a pretty one for yourself.

He nods, reaching for a strawberry of his own.

You bring the strawberry to your nose first, breathing in the delicious scent, before pressing the cool fruit to your lips.

The delicious tangy juice spills into your mouth, you try your hardest to mask your sound of appreciation.

The fruit is delicious, smells sweeter than it actually is, your mouth flooding with the taste of it, letting the juice trickle down your throat.

You glance up at him, worried that he's staring at you, but he's not, looking out of the window instead, as he brings the fruit to his mouth.

Some of the juice spills onto his fingers, and you feel your body pull taut as he sucks the tips of his middle and index fingers into his mouth.

There's an obscene sucking sound as he cleans his fingers, and you get caught in lustful thoughts.

That's what he'd look like if he licked his fingers clean after-

You swallow, an unbelievable amount of need pulsing under your skin.

You needed to get even with him. You needed him to understand how mindless he made you, a very dangerous plan forming in your head.

.

He takes away your ability to think critically. It's like a high, being near him, thinking about him, catching glimpses of him in his apartment. He snatches every coherent thought, until you're all lust and no worry.

You didn't exactly think this through and you knew it, simply ordering an item online, even splurging on express shipping, so that it gets here faster.

Yet somehow you're still surprised when it shows up at your door on Saturday.

You're careful, pulling the curtains shut, sitting on your couch, cross legged before ripping the package open.

You gulp at the size of it, you've never had something so big in you, but it's the one thing you'd seen that had made you immediately think of him.

It's a translucent silicone dildo, tinted puple, with a suction cup built into the base.

You swallow, examining it carefully, thinking about the best way to torment him, hoping that he finally understands how badly you want him.

The ache for him transcends need, it's beyond desire, it feels like something deep inside of you, the very building blocks of your soul. You can't think straight, you can't focus, your cunt is wet with yearning, your body absolute- with the ideas of what it wants.

What could he even do? Realistically? He was your neighbour, and sometimes intimate things observed can be... accidental.

.

Billy's had a long Saturday.

His back is almost aching with all the errands he's had to run today, he's eager for a long shower and a glass of bourbon to help him sleep.

He drops his keys and wallet on his counter, sheds his shirt and kicks off his pants, leaves them where they are and decides to worry about them tomorrow.

His shower is good, steaming hot- it fogs the glass around him, he's relaxed after such an enduring day. The scent of his body wash is good, the cleanser he uses on his face makes him feel clean and he feels the grime of the day leave him.

His bathroom tiles are heated, a good expense to ensure he's comfortable.

He tugs on loose pants, something to protect his modesty while he grabs the bottle of Angel's Envy from the top shelf of his liquor cabinet.

Three fingers worth of amber liquid, one long sip that soothes him.

He feels his body relax.

It had really been a long day.

He decides to check in on you, moving to his living room, that stood on a level just a little bit higher than your bedroom, perfectly in line so that whenever your curtains were open, he'd be able to see-

The glass in his hand shatters.

It takes him a moment, for his brain to start working, for the blood swiftly redirecting to his cock to allow him to process what he's looking at.

God, what a sight.

The predator, that has been silent since he got home, finally roars to life inside of him.

Unable to stop, he finds himself as close to the window as possible, but just far enough away that the fog of his breath does not cloud his vision.

The way you look.

There's nothing he can compare it to, Venus herself would gaze at you with envy, or perhaps the same way he looks at you now, with unending awe.

It's surprising, how much thought he still has left in him, considering what you're doing, that he has the time to admire the way you look.

But how could he not?

When there's a beauty to you he's never witnessed before, when there's a voice inside of him demanding he kneel before such decadence.

You don't even know, is his next pained thought, you don't even know how you look, too lost in chasing your own pleasure to admire yourself.

So Billy takes his time, and makes an attempt to sear your captivating figure into his memory.

Your hips are canting backwards, in short, rhythmic strokes. On your knees, on top of your bed, face pressed into your sheets, impaling your needy cunt on the fake cock stuck to your headboard.

His ears hone in on you, the predator pushing his senses to the max, so that he can hear every sound you make.

Obscenely wet, is his first thought, magnificently sweet is his second.

Each backward movement of your hips pulls an endearing gasp from your mouth, as if the pathetic dildo is just borderline too big for you.

His fists clench at his sides.

The worst part is, that you're begging. As if you're not in control of your own pleasure, as if it's someone else, you beg, sweet little words of 'please' and 'more' dropping from your mouth so easily.

Absentmindedly, he realises that you're still clothed, a little purple nightdress, that ends at the curve of your rear, protecting your skin from his ravenous eyes.

Then, to his fucking surprise- as if anything else could surprise him, you turn your head, open your eyes, and look right at him.

And heaven save him, you smile, and begin rock your hips harder.

"Oh fuck, that's so good." He hears you say, head turning back to press your forehead to the sheets, hands fisting the white material in your hands.

You know he's watching, and it gives you pleasure.

Billy can hear his own frantic breaths, loud in the stillness of his house.

"Oh god, fuck I'm so close, please."

He has the afterthought that he's about to watch you cum.

He can't move, he can't look away, he can barely hear the panther in his head, raging at him, all of it is drowned out, all of it is washed away by you.

The sound you make when your orgasm hits sends tingles down his spine. It's something low and sweet, and the beast inside of him demands that he go to you and make you scream.

He almost does it.

He almost rips every door off its hinges in an attempt to get to you, but that's before you pause, turn your head to look at him once more, and begin to fuck yourself to a second orgasm.

It hits him then, that delighted smile of yours when you see him looking, it makes him realize how much of a brat you are.

And Billy didn't indulge brats.

He tamed them.

He waits till your second orgasm is over, till you pull yourself off of that pathetic fake cock with shaking thighs and drops yourself into an exhausted heap nearby.

He watches you breathe for a moment, before turning to grab his phone.

.

You groan a little when your phone rings, stomach flipping when you reach for it on your nightstand to see his name on screen.

It's a harmless accident, you brief yourself, and you swipe to answer.

"Hello?" You say with a shaky voice.

"That was quite a show. But I need you to understand something."

"What?" You ask, a little scared and a little breathless.

"I'm much bigger than that."

The line goes dead.

.

Harmless, an accident.

I didn't mean for you to see that.

These are the things you repeat to yourself as you walk into Anvil on Monday morning. You're not too worried, considering what he'd said to you the very night over the phone.

I'm much bigger than that.

God, was that even possible? How were you going to take him if you could barely take that dildo?

You're not going to be taking him, he's your boss, your head reminds you.

She was right, your brain, getting involved with him was a bad idea, a very bad idea.

The thought of it though, of having him, of crawling into bed with him, holding him close throughout the night, finding endless passionate encounters, made you ache with want.

This was bad.

He was your boss, you shouldn't be thinking about him like this.

But you couldn't help it, you wanted him like nothing before.

You're hoping to see him, you catch yourself daydreaming about it, that he would find an excuse to come to you, lean against your desk and say something, anything, ask you about your day, or how your project is coming along, maybe show you exactly how big he would be-

You swallow, clicking your pen repeatedly for a moment before getting control of yourself.

You sigh, shoulders dropping, a sad realization seeping into you.

You wanted him.

You don't get a chance to see him for the entire day.

Your banter goes unsaid.

.

Billy was using all of his willpower to remain human right now.

The full moon was close, the predator in his head was roaring at full volume.

On edge, he grips the sides of his chair hard, hears something crack.

From the moment you entered the building- he knew. Your body was calling out to him.

A sweet cherry scent, a few citrus notes added in and he knew.

You were ovulating.

Sure, you'd been fertile in his presence before, once or twice in the last few months, but it hadn't been as strong as this, and never this close to a full moon.

His self control was being tested like never before.

The predator pushes images of you, open and naked below him, the feel of your hand on his cheek, the way he'd press deeper into your touch.

Billy takes a shallow breath.

The slow way he'd take his time, fitting himself into you, watching you take every inch of him that you could.

Or maybe your legs on his shoulders, folding you in half while he makes you take every inch of him into your sweet pussy, swallowing each cry from your perfect mouth, a controlling hand wrapped around the column of your throat, feeling your cunt tighten around him as his hand tightens on your throat-

Billy shudders, body shaking with the effort to keep him human, his teeth elongates involuntarily, and he realises that he can't stay here, if he does, there is no telling of what he might do.

He stands, doesn't grab much more than his keys and his phone, and hightails it.

He almost wants to die when he smells your scent grow stronger, tapping on the elevator call button rapidly as if that brings it any faster.

The beast fights him, pulls at him to find you, your sweet scent compromising his self control.

The elevator arrives and he steps in, pressing the floor he wants.

Your voice, a little call, asking to hold the elevator.

When he reaches for the close door button instead, the beast manages to take control for a moment, pressing the button to open the doors instead.

Fuck.

He's rigid when you step in.

.

"Oh, Billy, hey, hello." You say, a smile pulling onto your face.

He looks angry, staring forward, but he manages to give you a nod, and a low sound of your name in greeting.

You swallow, wondering if you should interact or not, maybe he was busy with something else.

"How are you doing? I hope your weekend was great." You try, offering something easy and casual. Smalltalk was a little menial, but it wasn't bad for a casual interaction.

Except, that he doesn't respond.

You turn away from facing him, blinking at the elevator doors.

Maybe he wasn't up to interacting with you today.

.

Don't kiss her don't kiss her don't kiss her don't kiss her-

Billy tenses every muscle in his body to stop the predator from seizing control of him.

Hands pinned beside your head, legs wrapped around his hips, quiet moans and helpless gasps as he kisses you senseless, eager to steal your senses, desperate to make a place inside of you for himself-

Your body crying out for him and you don't even know it, your scent filling the enclosed space, torturing him. His little mate, so fucking sweet and delectable, standing beside him and doesn't know how badly he wants to sink his tongue between your thighs, drown you with pleasure until you're so sated on him that you can't walk.

Why was he fighting himself so hard again?

Right, he was your boss, and he didn't want to make you think that the only reason he'd hired you was to sleep with you.

He clears his throat when the doors open, tilting his head in your direction.

"Have a nice day." He says, before stepping out.

.

He hadn't even stepped out onto the floor he'd selected.

You blink, eyebrows drawn together, wondering why he'd stopped out on the fifth floor when he was going down to the parking lot in the basement.

You smile automatically when a few other people step in.

Did he leave because he wanted to get away from you faster?

Your shoulders drop sadly.

.

.

.

[sweetcalavera]

Como La Flor

After another uneventful night of chasing petty thieves and breaking up scuffles, Jason slips into the familiar embrace of the Jukebox Diner. The bells above the door jingle softly.

The diner hums with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights, casting a muted glow over the checkered floor. The air smells of grease and coffee, and somewhere in the background, the jukebox plays a slow, melancholic tune—soft enough to be comforting but too distant to make out the words. Jason leans back in his usual booth, the red vinyl cool against his back, eyes scanning the empty space. It's oddly quiet tonight. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if they’re closed, but the thought vanishes when he spots him.

Xōchi sits at a corner booth, one leg tucked beneath him, utterly absorbed in his laptop. His fingers dance across the keys with a steady rhythm, pausing only when he snags a fry and swirls it lazily in his root beer float. A flicker of something unfamiliar pulls at Jason—not annoyance exactly, but something close enough that it makes his jaw clench.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“Didn’t know this place took online orders,” Jason mutters, voice low and sharp.

Xōchi's head jerks up, eyes widening as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. The laptop clicks shut with a hurried snap, and in a heartbeat, he’s sliding out of the booth, smoothing down his apron with an apologetic grin.

“Sorry for the wait, sir,” Xōchi says, slipping into his customer-service tone with unsettling ease. “What can I get you?”

Jason arches an eyebrow, a hint of irritation tugging at the corner of his mouth. “With service like that, you can forget about a tip.”

Xōchi’s smile falters for the briefest moment, but it returns—bright and unfazed. “Apologies. I’ll make sure you get a discount for the inconvenience,” he offers smoothly, as if practiced in deflecting grumpy customers.

Jason huffs, scanning the menu as if he doesn’t already know what he wants. “Grilled cheese. Tomato soup. Onion rings. And water.” His voice is clipped, efficient, like a soldier rattling off orders.

“Coming right up.” Xōchi gives a quick nod before retreating to the kitchen.

Jason watches him go, arms folded across his chest. Something about the guy bugs him—not in a bad way exactly, but in a way that keeps Jason coming back to this place when he could be eating anywhere else.

Soon, Xōchi returns, balancing the tray like a pro. The steaming tomato soup smells rich and savory, the grilled cheese perfectly golden with melted edges spilling out from between the slices. Jason eyes the onion rings—hot, crispy, and just greasy enough to hit the spot.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Xōchi asks, smile still in place, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, like he’s wondering why Jason keeps coming back.

Jason shakes his head, already dipping a ring into the soup. Xōchi, satisfied, drifts back to his booth, cracking his laptop open again. The sound of keystrokes resumes, steady and purposeful.

Jason eats in silence for a few minutes, but curiosity nags at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t ignore. He catches himself glancing over at Xōchi between bites, watching him work with focused intensity. Finally, the words slip out before he can stop them.

“What are you doing?”

Xōchi’s hands freeze over the keyboard. He blinks, startled that Jason initiated a conversation. “Uh... writing a paper,” he answers, a bit cautiously, like he’s not sure if Jason’s genuinely interested or just trying to start trouble.

Jason leans back, chewing slowly. “Didn’t know you were in college. Let me guess—hospitality or something?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it’s subtle, buried beneath layers of sarcasm.

For the first time, Xōchi looks genuinely embarrassed. A flush rises along his cheekbones, and he shifts uncomfortably under Jason’s gaze.

“Actually... I’m not in college,” Xōchi admits, his voice quieter now. “I’m taking night classes for my GED.”

Jason pauses mid-chew, something in Xōchi’s tone catching him off guard. It’s not just embarrassment—it’s pride, shame, and a hint of determination all tangled together. Jason knows that mix too well. It’s the same knot of emotions he’s carried for years.

He swallows and sets his sandwich down, feeling the weight of the conversation shift between them. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and unspoken.

“GED, huh?” Jason finally says, keeping his voice neutral. “Good for you.”

Xōchi glances at him, surprised by the lack of judgment. “Thanks.”

Jason nods, breaking eye contact to focus on his soup. He doesn’t offer more—doesn’t know how to, really—but something about the exchange leaves the air between them lighter, less strained.

For a while, the two of them exist in comfortable silence—one man eating, the other typing away, both finding a strange kind of solace in the presence of someone who doesn’t pry too deeply.

[aaakikoo]

no plot scenarios with katsuki bakugou

an -> hi! It’s been a while since I posted this regularly! Still working on my Bakugou series. Part 1 is is already out! Here

another an -> comment and reblog, I want to hear opinions, also requests currently open, or if you want to send hottakes of anything, headcanons, imagines or questions, they’re all welcome :)

another another an -> this is also shit but I can’t write down my thoughts properly:(.

———

1. WHEN YOU SPILL COFFEE ON HIS PAPERS

so your husband came home from a short shift about an hour ago. Typically when he comes home from short shifts at work, he usually continues his desk work at home. Writing and responding to emails, cleaning his schedule, attending online meetings are the usual.

You don’t want to disturb him during those times. So you guys usually text each other instead. He had sent you a text about seven minutes ago.

[ could you make me a cup of coffee? Still have 2 hours to go ]

How could you say no to him?

[ I’ll be there soon ]

You texted and headed to the kitchen. Took out his favorite mug and made him the coffee the way he likes it.

You set it on a small tray along with a glass of water, and some fresh cut fruit and walked upstairs towards his office.

The door was already open so you just walked in. You placed the tray on his desk. You set the fruits and water on the desk for him. As you were about to lift the cup of coffee your hands twitched to the right resulting in you spilling a spill or two on some of his papers.

Your blood immediately stop pumping, and you were shocked by your own actions.

You set the cup back into the tray slowly as you looked at him and he was frowning. You immediately rushed to get paper towels as you started wiping the coffee off of his desk.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. I’m sorry.” You apologized over and over again as you were ripping paper and wiping like crazy. As soon as you realized that the desk was clean, you stopped wiping.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You said as you looked down, ashamed. You felt so bad for wasting his hard work.

Before the man could say anything you took the small tray and left.

After those two hours of work Katsuki came downstairs to where you sat, he took a seat next to you as you began apologizing once again.

“I am so sorry, I know you must’ve worked so hard and I just-“

He wrapped and arm around your waist and said, “it’s okay, I have a copy of it on my laptop.”

You fell quiet.

“Oh, but I still very sorry Katsuki.”

“It’s okay I always keep an extra copy of everything, you never know when a pretty girl can spill coffee in my office.”

“So you let other girls serve you at work?” You asked, teasing him.

“I said only the pretty ones.” He said pulling you closer to him. “Those clumsy ones only.”

2. WHEN YOU DONT GET YOUR SWEET TREATS

A new bakery opened and you must visit it. You love pastries more than anything and whenever there is a new pastry shop you must visit.

You checked out their menu online in your lunch break, and you saw that they had your favorite. Cheese cake.

So after work both you and your husband headed there.

You stood in the line, and after around a minute you were the second person in line. You saw that they had one cheese cake and you hoped that the person in front of you picks something else.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and that last piece of cheese cake was gone.

You looked at your husband with doe teary eyes and he offered to chat with the girl while you sat down.

After a few minutes he came with a bag of fresh baked pastries. You opened and didn’t see your favourite there. He bought you many good options but no cheese cake.

You were so sad about it, especially that you were so close.

That night he drove to your nearest supermarket and picked out the ingredients for cheese cake and he made it for you at home.

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - THREE

Chapter Warnings: swearing, spoilers for 2x02

series masterlist

You were so engrossed in searching for an audio for this TikTok that when a knock sounded on your door, you nearly launched your phone in surprise. A guy with a young face and big brown eyes peeked around your door and let out a quiet greeting.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“No, no. No scaring at all,” you exclaimed. “You must be Colin Hughes.”

He was the first player on your list to meet with to discuss social media plans. Keeley helped you set up an online calendar that she sent out to every player with your information and the instructions to pick out a meeting time. Most players opted to do it before or after training which meant you had a few hours of work in between meeting with everyone.

“Come in,” you said. “I know you all are on strict diets but I baked these yesterday. It won’t break my heart if you can’t have one, that just leaves more for me and Keeley.”

A tray of cupcakes sat on the table next to your desk. You had baked them in a flurry of inspiration last night. A mixture of vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, you piped on green frosting and then black and white frosting to represent the ball. It was cute, in your opinion, but you hadn’t posted anything until after the players saw them so you could know if it was embarrassing or not.

“Oh, wicked,” Colin exclaimed. He took a vanilla cupcake and then settled himself in the plush office chair on the other side of your desk. “These are fucking amazing.”

“Thank you. Now, this doesn’t have to be a super formal conversation, y’know? I took a gander at everyone’s profiles and saw that you’re really passionate about Welsh independence.”

“Is that an issue?” He looked a bit sheepish and you shook your head.

“Nah, if anything it makes you more personable. My only issue would be if you’re a fascist fuck, but I don’t think that’s part of Plaid Cymru’s platform, right?”

A grin grew on his face and you laughed. “Listen, Hughes, I might be a social media manager, but I’m not dumb.”

“Didn’t think you were but it’s nice to know for sure.” His phone buzzed and he glanced down at it, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. You immediately caught onto his attitude shift and titled your head to the side.

“Something wrong?” you asked. He shrugged and pocketed his phone before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nah, just some stuff with the team.”

“And my job is to know what’s going on with the team,” you pointed out. “So spill.”

Colin sighed and pulled his phone out once more. He pulled something up on the screen and then passed it over to you. A photo of Coach Lasso seated with the one and only Jamie Tartt was on the screen. Oh. Was Lasso asking him back on the team?

“When Tartt was last year, he was a right fucking tart. I wanted to be liked so I went along with it sometimes, but he was a knob to me too. I like coach, but I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

You handed his phone back to him and shrugged. “Just because he might be coming back doesn’t mean you have to act any differently. If you were a knob, I’d have called you out the second you walked into my office. Are you really going to let one guy ruin the person you’ve become?”

He considered your words for a moment and then nodded. “Thanks, yeah. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Sitting back with a victorious smile on your lips, you turned your attention back to your desktop which had his Instagram pulled up. “Now, let’s talk about your social media presence. You post frequently and have great engagement with fans, which is perfect. Keeley gave me the list of desired sponsorships so while she puts pressure on their marketing teams, I’m going to come up with a plan to make your accounts appeal to their brand. How does that sound?”

“Good, good. Can you show me how to do reels? Isaac said mine look like shit.”

“Bold words for a man who livetweets every episode of Bridgerton.”

Two days later, you found yourself bundling up in AFC Richmond gear thanks to the bitterly cold temperatures outside. Of course, today was the day you started photographing practice for social media. While Keeley sat inside the warm offices, you were forced into going outside. The blonde promised hot cocoa when you returned, ordered on the company card, so you readily agreed to freezing your nose off. Maybe the cold would help you stay awake too.

What had started as a night of planning out your next round of posts and recipes turned into cyberstalking Jamie Tartt. There were pages dedicated to fans ooing and ahhing over his skills on and off the field. Yet every single interview you saw of his showed just how truly egotistical the man was. It seemed as though he was incapable of discussing anything other than himself, whether it was boasting about his soccer skills or how he pulls women.

You had to admit that his soccer skills were pretty fucking good, even based on your limited knowledge of the game. One video of Jamie Tartt’s best plays turned into two and then it was one in the morning and you needed to be up at seven. Fuck.

That’s how you found yourself here, in the tunnel leading out to the Racetrack. Your breath puffed out in visible clouds against the frosty winter air and you grimaced. This was going to be the longest two hours of your life.

“Ah, fuck,” you murmured as you tried to remove the cap from your camera lens. The bright AFC Richmond blue and red gloves that Higgins gave you were incredibly warm, but the fleece made it hard to maneuver things. The cap popped off and promptly fell to the ground, landing at your feet.

“Fucking fabulous,” you huffed. You bent down to grab it but a hand already enclosed around the small piece of plastic. Standing back up to your full height, you came face to face with the one and only Jamie Tartt. He extended the cap towards you and you grasped it, feeling the warmth he emanated through your gloves.

“Thanks,” you said shortly. “Back at it, then? Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” he replied, almost as if it were a reflex. You raised an eyebrow at his conceited response and shrugged.

“Alright then, choke for all I care.”

With that, you glided past Jamie and out onto the turf to start taking photos. You had no time or energy to worry about him and his ego. The sooner you got all the photos you needed, the sooner you could get into the warm stadium once more.

Tag List: @shiptheship​ @teigo-the-explorer​ @geeksareunique​ @queenofthekill​ @actuallybarb​ @for-fucks-sake-im-alive @maggiecc​ @alipap3​

[in-a-mountain-pool]

Supermassive Black Hole Ch3

Ettore x Reader

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: Explicit/18+

warnings: NSFW/minors DNI, mutual masturbation, smut, mentions of violence

word count: ~5500

summary: A cosmic event brings Ettore and Y/N closer together, and it’s only a matter of time before the two collide.

A/N: This was a whopper of a chapter! I’ve not written smut in ages so I found writing this a bit of a challenge! I hope the wait was worth it... Beautiful space theme borders by saradika​. As always, comments, likes and reblogs aren’t needed, but always lovely to come online to!

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Masterlist

In the days that followed, Monte had hardly even looked at Y/N. Every mealtime the canteen would be bustling with the crew and inmates, but suddenly Monte was a no show.

It was their evening mealtime, and Ettore was standing in the queue watching her over his shoulder as she sat there alone. He’d watched her do the same thing for three days now, sitting there with a plate ready for Monte, and beside her an empty chair.

The arsehole was avoiding her like a soppy schoolkid.

Even to him it seemed unnecessarily cold. The concentrated way that she’d bite at her plush bottom lip, the way she tapped her foot nervously against the linoleum floor almost made him angry for her. Since her last run in with Monte she’d taken to sitting alone in the rec room with a cheap pair of headphones in her ears listening to music, which were now slung loose around her neck.

Without Monte, it seemed her existence was to be a lonely one.

This was it. This was the perfect chance for him to make a move, ingratiate himself to her and reel her in. It had become more than just about fucking her. More than anything Ettore wanted her to choose him over Monte.

He wanted her to want him just as much as he had craved her attentions.

And when it did inevitably happen, he wanted her to beg and scrape for him just as much as she did for Monte. But he would make sure she got what she deserved and more, whether she wanted it or not.

Yet, in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think about how much it upset him to see her so lonely like that. She was nice. She was truly sweet. She didn’t seem to belong in a place like this. She didn’t seem that well equipped to deal with the sort of people here either.

The sort of person he was.

He’d wanted to take advantage of her. Afterall, it wouldn’t be that hard. Her innocence only made him want her more and more. But could he really go through with it when the time came? Could he force someone like her when push came to shove?

He was shaken from his reverie when a tray was shoved into his hands, almost spilling the cup of processed water all over his front. Before his mind could keep up with his body, he was already making his way over to her table, taking a seat in the chair opposite Y/N.

“This seat taken?” He smirked, gesturing at the tray she’d brought for Monte, laying cold and untouched. When she shrugs and avoids his gaze, he can’t help but prod.

“A simple yes or no would have been enough, princess.”

He haphazardly chucks his tray onto the table and skims is his eyes over her. “Got a bra on today, I see? Shame. I’d gotten used to seeing those tits of yours.”

When she almost drops her cutlery and scowls up at him, he raises his hands up in a mock surrender and giggles with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Am jokin’, am jokin’. Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” With a sly grin he winks at her and digs into his meal, talking with his mouth full.

“So, what’s his name is a no-show again eh’?”

She eyes him warily sighing as she starts to drink the water she’d brought for Monte.

“… No. ‘What’s his name’ is avoiding me like the plague. You’d honestly think I’d killed someone or something.”

Now this was something he was very intrigued by. He used to like to guess exactly what it was that each inmate had done, but to him she was a blank slate. He raises an eyebrow at this and quirks his lips upwards with a teasing lilt to his voice, “Well, did you?”

Y/N gives him a lopsided smile and shakes her head, refusing to say a word and shoving the extra tray towards him playfully.

God she was a mystery to him.

“Eat up. It’ll only go to waste if you don’t. So… Why you are you sat here with me today?”

Her voice drops to a nervous whisper as she leans over the table slightly, pretending to hand him the salt. “You’re not gonna try to blackmail me for breaking the rules with Monte, are you?”

His blue eyes flash to hers intensely for a moment before he shoots her a smug smile, pursing his lips and sucking his teeth as he rakes his eyes over her.

“Now why would I do that? We said it would be our secret, didn’t we? And I never break a promise. Especially not when there’s a pretty girl on the line.”

He starts to wolf down Monte’s dinner with a wide grin on his face, manners long forgotten. “Nah… I just wanted to check in, make sure that you weren’t losing your mind over that loser.”

She sips her water and eyes him over the rim of the plastic cup before she replies with a small cheeky, and not all too convincing smile. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m a big girl trust me.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought he was a jumped-up twat, and you deserve better.”

He decides to make small talk as he chews on a rather dry piece of bread, and points to her headphones with an impish look in his eyes. “Wotcha listening to? Let me guess, some Taylor Swift tunes about how much you hate your boyfriend and how he’s ruined your life?”

She doesn’t take the bait, and just shakes her head softly. When she silently takes an earphone and offers it out to him he’s taken aback by her openness. Her fingers brush against his palm for only a moment and he can hardly ignore the sharp, warm feeling inside his chest.

He hadn’t been touched by anyone in weeks, except for in acts of violence, but here she was, gentle and unassuming, being kind to him of all people.

Ettore lifts the headphone to his ear and can only smirk, his eyes wide with surprise when he hears the music playing.

“Oh… classical music, is it? So, you’re one of those rich snobby girls then?”

She shakes her head in disbelief and bites her lip smiling at him. “I’m hardly a posh girl, and definitely not rich. It’s just- nice and calming to listen to in a place like this…” She trails off for a moment before her eyes flash with a look of mischief. “I’m terribly sorry to ruin whatever weird fantasy of me you have rolling around that head of yours.”

With a cheeky laugh he passes the headphone back to her with the same gentleness she’d shown him earlier, resting it back around her neck, his finger catching on a lock of her hair as he does so.

It was nice to touch her. Even nicer to be touched by her.  

Ettore coughs awkwardly and licks his lip trying to recover himself. “So… I can’t imagine you as a Catholic school girl, then? With one of those little, short skirts and the knee-high socks, anymore? You’re breaking my heart, Y/N.”

The sweet sound she makes as she laughs does something to him, and for a moment all he can picture is her smile and the way she gazed at Monte that morning just a week before in the canteen.

But this time it was him who’d made her laugh.

This time she was here, eating dinner with him.

Y/N shakes her head at him in disapproval, a bashful look on her face as she picks up their trays and makes ready to leave. “You need to get your head checked out, Ettore.”

Don’t go yet, he thinks to himself.

“I bet you were clever though.” The words leave his mouth before he can even process his thoughts.

He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to make this last longer, if only for a minute.  

“I bet you were a real nerd at school. I’d probably have stolen your lunch money, wouldn’t I?”

That sound again.

She lets out a small giggle, shaking her head at him as she walks away from him, walking backwards so she can face him. “Again, not posh enough for that!”

And just like that, she was gone again.

Ettore exhaled deeply looked down at the empty space in front of him intensely, tapping his finger on the side of the steel table, as he other gripped the side so hard his knuckles turned white.

Why was he being so fucking needy?

He tries to shake the stupid grin off his face for just being near her. He tries to ignore that feeling in his gut, that deep immense feeling of want as she touched his hand.

Why on earth was he making jokes about Catholic school girls and Taylor Swift!?

Just how long could he wait until he just he just took her?

Why the fuck hadn’t he already?!

He didn’t give a shit about Monte, and he wasn’t scared of him, not by a long shot. He was going to have to take her tonight. No more games of cat and mouse. He was the predator, and she was the prey.

And that was that.

But then his agitated movements stopped altogether at once, his breath catching in his throat and his chest tightening almost painfully as his eyes flickered down, the light catching something on his arm… for there on the sleeve of his sweater was a strand of her hair.

And all he can think of is the content of her smile. 

The night that follows was a restless one, and not only for thoughts of her.

He’d lain for hours staring at the ceiling twirling the lock of her hair gently between his fingers and agonising over her before he’d finally been able to fall asleep.

But not for long.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The stark blue lighting of ship flickered on and off intermittently, leaving the corridors veiled in darkness before the sound of a shrill alarm startled him awake suddenly. The guards stormed into their cell block ordering them loudly to line up outside their rooms.

Tcherney and Monte were already outside by the time Ettore had stumbled out of his cell. With no time to grab a shirt or shoes, he’d slumped against the wall with only his grey sweatpants slung low on his slim hips. He squinted his eyes at the harsh blue lights in the corridor as Dr Dibs walked hurriedly towards their block to address them.

There had been a rare and shifting phenomenon. The black hole they were orbiting, or the ‘corona’, as she had called it, was emitting X-ray flares. The X-rays released had disrupted the ships generators, meaning conservation of power was of the utmost importance to ensure their experiments could continue. Only half of the ship could be powered for the foreseeable future, meaning the men’s cell block was to be shut down, and the male inmates were to temporarily share with the women.

They filed out towards the women’s cell block, the guards tired and pushing them forward impatiently as Dr Dibs assigned the rooms out loud, struggling to be heard over the piercing sound of the alarms. Boyse was to share with Tcherney, Dr Dibs would take Monte to the labs to assist with monitoring their life support systems, and, to his utter delight, Y/N would bunk with him.

Ettore couldn’t help but lock eyes with Monte at hearing this. He was, in a word, seething, his hand curling into a tight fist at his side and his nostrils flaring as he glared right back at him.

That’s right prick, she’s mine.

A sneering grin painted Ettore’s face. He childishly wiggled his eyebrows at him suggestively as he strolled into Y/N’s cell, accidentally shoulder checking Monte on his way past.

And there she was.

But then his smirk faltered when he finally saw her.

Y/N was laying down on her side upon the bottom bunk, curled up into a little ball. She looked so small and fragile, draped in an oversized shirt (her own this time), with a skimpy pair of shorts peeking out from beneath.

That chestnut brown hair of hers was fanned out on the pillow beneath her, making that now all too familiar ache in his chest return once again as he tried to compose himself. When she speaks, her green eyes search his nervously, her soft voice almost impossible to make out against the alarms.

“Should we be worried…? Are we going to be safe? Dibs- she said they were closing off half of the ship to keep up the life support systems... Has this happened before?”

She was frightened.

A wave of protectiveness hits him as he tentatively sits on the side of her bunk, watching her like a hawk as if he was afraid one false movement would scare her off completely.

His voice comes out hoarse and intense, and for a moment he’s worried that she’ll be afraid of him.

She should be afraid of him.

“… Don’t worry, this shit happens all of the time. The ship is an old heap of junk. Trust me, I’ve seen it all and this… this is fine. We’ll be fine.”

Y/N gazes up at him wide eyed with a look of pure trust, and once again he’s struck with a deep agonising pang of guilt in his chest.

He was a monster.

He was a monster for even thinking about wanting to hurt her, for wanting to force her when she was such a sweet and delicate thing.

She trusted him. He’d ruin her. And he knew it.

The alarms finally stop and a deep quiet fills the cell block as the inmates start to fall asleep. She doesn’t say anything to him, just nods slowly and her eyes flicker down to the bed as she turns over to face the wall.

Ettore is on autopilot when he climbs onto the top bunk, laying there so close to her and yet so far away that he can hardly breath. He lies back with his forearm covering his face and his eyes screwed shut, trying more than anything to focus on sleeping.

All he can see is her, her body, her eyes.

The conflict inside his head is almost as loud as the alarms before, his thoughts echoing loudly in his ears as he tossed and turned. He could have been there for seconds, minutes, hours, he wasn’t sure.

All he felt was the need to be with her.

The deep want to know her better than Monte ever could.

The desire to have her and the perverted thoughts he’d wanted to act upon now that he was alone with her.

But all of this was silenced when she finally speaks again.

“Th-…Thank you. For being nice to me… You cheered me up today. You even made me laugh.”

His eyes flicker open in surprise, as he sits up absorbing her words and nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

There was a mirror opposite them at the end of the bunk bed, and in the dark blue light of the room he could just about make out her form.

And there she was, doing exactly the same as him, sat cross-legged and staring up at his reflection pensively, nervously picking at the nail bed of her thumb.

“… You… you don’t really talk to anyone here. Except me. Why? And… answer honestly, be serious for once.”

Ettore wasn’t sure if it was the fact he was so sleep deprived, so crazed with desire for her, or if it was some side effect of the cosmic event outside, but the words just seemed to flow out of him on their own.

There was no room for hesitation. Not now.

“Well… I talk to you… because I like the way you make me feel. I like… how innocent you are. How soft you look... You’re not like the rest of us. Not like me, anyway.”

And there, just there…. There was something in the way Y/N looked at him in the reflection in front of him that convinced him. He’d felt it every time they’d spoken. He’d seen it in the way her eyes would meet his as they passed by each other outside the box. He seen the way her gaze had lingered on his toned body when he’d entered the room.

She was attracted to him.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips pouted. It was undeniable.

Her eyes fluttered downwards when his blue eyes flashed to her body, taking in her slim long legs and the delicate trace of her collarbones peeking out from beneath the low collar of her shirt.

In her silence he decides to continue, his voice thick and hoarse, trying hard to think straight as he watches her drinking in the sight of his bare chest once again in the low light of the room, heaving as it feels like all the air in the room has disappeared.

“… Because you're beautiful. Because I think I could make you happy… I could make you feel things you've never felt before. You would never need to ask me.”

He couldn’t help himself as he poured out his want for her all at once, listening to her gasp quietly at his shameless confession.

He watched transfixed as she licked her lip nervously, her doe eyes flitting from his body to the sheet beneath her over and over, thoughts racing through her mind.

“We won’t get this chance again. Just one night. No strings. I can make you forget about him. I promise.” He whispers, his voice gravelly and deep.

Her small voice comes out broken and shy against the darkness of the room. “Dibs… she said we couldn’t touch each other… and there’s Monte… and-” He cuts her off in desperation.

“Look… If you don't want me to touch you, I won't… But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy tonight. I can still keep you warm, help you relax. Just let me.”

Ettore’s toned torso shone in the blue light of the room, and he could feel her watching as his hand brushed down against the soft blonde hair that spread below his navel.

His icy blue eyes are fixed onto hers in the mirror, as ever so slowly he reaches down to caress the growing outline of his length in his trousers, his head lolling back a little as he continues to stare at her.

“No one has to know. It’s… just like using the box.” Ettore lets out a soft sigh when he sees her hand stroke softly up her thigh, all wide eyed and flushed.

“We’re not breaking any rules… you’re not cheating on Monte. Let’s use each other… Let me make you feel good.”

When her hand reaches the edge of her shorts the deep exhale that leaves his mouth is almost embarrassing as he starts to plead with her, his hand now gripping himself through his sweats, the bulge there impossible for her to ignore any longer.

“… Touch yourself for me. That's what you want, isn't it? To feel good? To feel wanted?”

Ettore shifts himself closer to the edge of the bunk and dropping forward onto his knees to see her more clearly beneath him in the mirror’s reflection. A devilish smile appears on his face when he takes in the sheen of sweat shining on her body already.

She wanted this.

“You'd like it, wouldn't you? For me to tell you what to do… you love the sound of my voice, don’t you?”

He lets his hand slip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, he hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear. His cock is impossibly hard and weeping as he grips it tightly at the base, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he can gather the courage to continue.

“Take off your shorts for me.”

He can hardly believe his eyes when she disappears from view for a second, shifting on the bunk bed to pull down her shorts, leaving her in a small pair of black standard issue panties.

“Good girl... Now, move closer to the edge of the bunk so I can see you.”

Y/N slides forward to the edge of the bed, leaning on her knees wantonly and gazing up at him with that gorgeous mouth of hers hanging open softly. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as a soft groan escapes his throat. The black fabric of her panties was soaked, the crotch shining with slick even in the low light of the cell.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. You’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you…” He hisses, his voice drops lower still, a jealous flash covering his eyes. “Tell me, has Monte ever got you this soaked?”

He tries desperately to ignore the pang in his chest when she doesn’t reply, pushing it to the back of his mind as he gazes slack jawed at the wet spot forming at her covered centre.

Ettore sucks his teeth and tuts at her shaking his head. “I wish you would let me touch you.”

His eyes search hers shyly as he finally reaches his hands down and pulls off his grey sweatpants to ease the tension there, his flushed cock springing free from their confines.

Ettore spits into his palm, wincing as his long fingers wrap around the base of his stiff length, working their way upwards and stroking his thumb over his swollen pink head. Her eyes were fixed on him pleasuring himself, rubbing his thick and leaking cock up and down slowly.

Ettore chuckled darkly at the way she bit her lip hard enough to bleed as she leered at him.

He knew he was big.

“I shouldn’t have to waste any of my spit when your pussy is wet enough for the both of us…” Blue eyes stare intensely into hers as his tongue flicks out to lick his lips suggestively. “…but I’ll play along for you.”

A faint smile ghosts across her face as she leans forwards to look at his reflection even closer.

Oh god, she was enjoying it. She fucking wanted this. She wanted him.

“Do you like what you see, gorgeous? It’s all for you. Only you.” He croons, his eyes hooded now, as his fist gently pumps his hard cock teasingly. “Pull them down for me sweetheart, and spread your legs wider… I need to see you.”

And she did.

Without a single word, without a single thought, Y/N pulled down her panties, placed her feet down on the bed and spread her thighs wider, leaning back as she revealed herself to him completely.

And she was perfect.

She was beautiful.

“Oh shit, you really are wet… and all shaved and neat for me too?” Ettore’s body shudders, his shoulder slumping forwards as he places his free hand down onto the hard mattress to lean closer to the mirror, stroking his cock to the sight of her dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy… and for what? Monte isn’t even using you… Such a waste.”

He swallows harshly as his fingers traces the underside of his cock, pressing down on the thick vein running along his length. “Now… suck your fingers for me. Get them nice and wet.”

He squeezes the base of his cock with a stuttered groan as she hollows her rosy cheeks, her pink lips framing her fingers prettily as she takes them knuckle deep into her mouth.

“If I was allowed to touch you, I wouldn’t use my hand… but for now, I just want you to just circle your clit. And when you do... I need you to watch me.”

He sees her, and the reflection in her eyes tells him exactly what she’s thinking. Ettore leans even closer to the mirror watching her hesitate.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N, or are you afraid of what you might like?” He growls.

“I won’t tell, I promise. We both know we need this... So please… play with yourself for me.”

When her small fingers finally slide from her soft thigh to her swollen folds it’s hard for him not to whimper out loud, a half-sob spilling from her throat at the sensation. And just like he’d asked, her sweet face remained fixed onto the sight of him.

“Shh... be quiet, or we’ll get caught.” He gravels out.

His eyes dart between his heavy length in his hand and her fingers sinking into her heat to swipe slick over her throbbing clit in tight circles, soft mewling noises coaxed from her heart shaped lips.

The harsh blue lighting makes the head of his cock shine as he covers himself with a mix of his own spit and precum, gazing down at her glistening core in the reflection of the mirror.

The sloppy sound of her finger now pumping into her wet cunt is almost obscene, echoing in the room and sending a wave of heat straight down to the base of his spine. His voice comes out more desperate than he’d planned it to… he’d never felt this way about anyone.

“… Do you like this? Does it make you feel good seeing how hard you make me?”

“Ah… I… fuck, it does, Ettore. It feels amazing.” Her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as she lets of a soft high-pitched whine, covering her mouth and face hastily with her spare hand like she was ashamed by how wanting she was.

Ettore grunts and shakes slightly as he fists himself tightly, struggling to get his words out clearly.

“You know why that is, baby girl? Because you know I’ll take care of you. I know what you need. You might be a good girl out there… but this here, this is the real you. And it’s so fucking beautiful.”

She whimpers again as she fucks herself with her finger, throwing her head back in pleasure as he praises her. He sinks his hand down to cup his balls softly, pinching the soft skin of his ball sack and rolling it between his index finger and thumb, his hard dick on show for her and bobbing in front of the mirror.

His jaw hangs open slightly, his tight abs contracting and relaxing as he works himself, matching the pace at which she pumps her finger into her pulsing heat. “God I wish you’d let me fuck you.”

“Every night I go to the box I think about you, Y/N. Did you know that? God you’ve been so needy this week, like bitch in heat haven’t you?” Ettore groans out raggedly, gripping at his cock.

She’s only able to respond with a pathetic nod of her head, her words failing her at his blatant admission.

“I know… I know, baby girl… You want more don’t you? But it was you who said I couldn’t touch you.” He snickers teasingly as a thought comes to him.

“Get your pillow and put it under your ass for me.”

When she does this he can see her juices dripping down her inner thighs to soak the white fabric underneath her. She’s splayed out for him even better now, her slick pooling into the tight puckered hole beneath her pussy in a way that has him completely transfixed.

The noises in the darkened room are lewd and wet as he fists his cock faster now. Grunts and whimpers fill the air as she adds another finger, sloppily pumping her them into her core, the new angle helping her reach that sensitive patch inside herself, making her mewl pathetically.

“Do you always think about Monte in the box? Or have you ever thought about me? Please… tell me you’ve thought about this cock….”

She let out a desperate whine and screws up her face as the truth spills out of her. “I did… I do… I- I saw you.” She pants out, her hand reaching up underneath her shirt to paw at her tits desperately.

“I saw you in the corridor that day… I knew what you were doing… I’ve thought about it. Thought about you.”

Everything stops for a moment, his movement falters, his breath hitches, and his eyes focus only on her face.

She knew. She’d seen. And she’d carried on like nothing had even happened.

The makes something in him snap and he has to stop for a moment, his hands shaking and his cheeks flushing a deep pink as he desperately tries to hold off his climax.

“F-Fuck, Y/N. I knew it. Oh… you’re such a fucking good girl… Why didn’t you tell Monte?

The way he growls and pants only urges her on further, she can’t even form the words she’s so drunk on the feeling of him, the pleasure, his jealously, the feeling of him wanting her.

“Answer me. Why didn’t you tell him?”

She whimpers yet again and quickens her pace, and he can’t help but laugh out loud bitterly.

She’d been protecting him. She was just as perverted as him. She’d liked it.

“You can’t even say it… Oh… you love my attention don’t you? You want someone to notice you… Naughty girl. Monte’s just a boy and you need a real man don’t you?”

She nods pathetically in the reflection of the mirror, her cheeks pink and her expression wanton and shameless.

“Why don’t you give Daddy your panties and I’ll let you finish?”

Wordlessly she shakily passes her soaked panties to him from the bottom bunk, his fingers brushing her wet fingers and gathering some of the slick coating them. He brings them to his face, visibly shaking when he inhales her scent before sinking his fingers and her juices into his mouth.

“Oh shittt… you taste sweet. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted…”

He grabs his own pillow now, shoving it inbetween his legs. He wanted to finish with her and the thought of touching his cock with his slick covered fingers was just too much to handle.

Ettore hips begin to rock slowly, dragging his length over the fabric as he begins to hump against the soft pillow. His hands rest tightly on his hips as his chest begins to rise and fall jaggedly, watching her eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, her thighs shaking now.

“Oh, you poor girl… you need to cum don’t you? I can see it in your eyes… Tell me.”

“I need- Ah- I need to cum. The box… it’s not enough… I need to cum, I need…”

He continues to rut against the mattress, his cock swollen red as he takes his other hand down to twist and squeeze his balls. He rubs his nose into the crotch of her panties, breathing in her scent and panting pathetically.

Ettore grunts a little angrily now and lets out a low bitter laugh.

“You need to cum… what, baby girl?”

He smirks and snarls a little, licking at her panties crotch and locking eyes with her in the mirror when she finally says the words he’d dreamed of hearing.

“I need to cum…. Daddy.”

With her confession, everything starts to lose control and their movements become more frenzied, Ettore rutting so eagerly against the pillow that the whole bed frame starts to squeak, and he finds he can barely hold on anymore.

“Fuck! Show me your tits and make yourself come. Pinch them, fuck yourself… I can’t hold on much longer…”

She drags her shirt up to her neck revealing her heaving breasts, they’re moving now she’s pumping into herself so hard and fast. When she pinches her nipples her jaw hangs open, her eyes screw shut… and then she’s there.

With a soft high-pitched whine, she’s climaxing hard, squirting onto the pillow and biting her lip so hard she breaks the soft skin.

He doesn’t give her much time to recover, and quickly lays on his side on the top bunk, rapidly fisting his pink flushed cock.

“Y/N, get up, open your mouth and take what I’m gonna give you.”

Doing as she’s told, she shakily jumps up to face the bunk, gripping the frame tightly to steady herself. Her sweet, blushed face is level with his cock as she opens her mouth to him, tongue out and waiting. Within a few seconds he leans forward and spills onto her tongue with a deep guttural moan, coating her lips and chin with hot ropes of his cum.

And just like that the moment is over. He slumps down laying on his back panting, gazing down at her as she wordlessly swallows his spend and licks her lips to clean up the rest.

He couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.

…Had she really wanted this?

Should he kiss her? Would she even want him to?

He can barely think straight, his forearm coming up to cover his face as he lays there catching his breath, sweat cooling on his skin. When he finally opens his eyes again she’s already gone, laying down on the bottom bunk and dressing hastily.

Fuck. He should say something. Say anything.

“… Thanks.” He swallows and stutters awkwardly, staring up at the ceiling. “Did you… you did… finish didn’t you?”

Her voice comes out small and shy again, she’s retreated further back now under the bunk that he can no longer see her in the mirror, and something about this makes his stomach lurch.

“I did, yeah. Uhm… Thanks.”

Silence.

Not another word was exchanged between the of them for the rest of the night.

He’d thought about this for days, how he’d take her, how he’d force her, how he might hurt her, but there and then, in that very moment… he hadn’t been able to bring himself to lay a single finger on her.

He’d planned to make her his.

But somehow, laying there spent and exhausted in the dark, Ettore felt like it was her who had branded him.

Taglist: @qyburnsghost​ , @babyblue711​ Please comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist! :3

[dreamingroleplayer]

Screaming, squealing, crying and swooning at this story I found online, "Flour Power" by Watchman

I SWEAR it seems to incapsulate everything I love about the kink so obviously I'll show it to you and hope you'll appreciate as much as me (did I ever tell you I'm always open for rp? 👀)

Premise: Who is the secret admirer that's been sending Rebecca love letters? When her friend Edward refuses to spill the beans on what he knows, Rebecca decides it might be time for a bit of friendly persuasion.

Enjoy~✨

It was dark by the time Edward left his office. The air was mild outside, but the town seemed subdued under the streetlights. He walked briskly among crowds of people who were returning home from work. The sign on the door of Groves bakers had been switched over to show ‘Closed’. Only a faint light from the back of the store gave any indication that there might still be someone inside. Edward paused for a moment and then knocked on the door. A few seconds later a figure emerged and ushered him inside.

Rebecca kissed him briefly on the cheek and smiled. “Hi, Ed. I just have a couple of things to put away downstairs and then I’ll be ready. The movie doesn’t start for another forty minutes so there’s no rush.”

Edward followed her behind the counter to the back of the store. A set of narrow stairs led them down to a compact basement area where a large oven dominated one of the walls. There was a work surface lined with empty baking trays and beside that, a small sink and drainer. The place seemed imbued with a cosy warmth. Across the room were a table and two chairs.

“Take a seat if you want,” Rebecca offered.

He sat down and watched as she collected a couple of trays from the oven and stacked them by the sink. There was a whooshing noise as a tap was turned on. Rebecca took a cloth and rubbed down the work surfaces with vigorous strokes. Edward was quite happy to sit and watch her at work, to enjoy the moving shape of her body as she went about her business.

“Is it cold outside?” Rebecca asked him.

“No. It’s actually rather mild.”

She switched off the tap and the silence rendered everything more intimate. “I got this new scarf at the weekend. Perfect for the winter…” She produced a patterned length of silk that was coloured a pale blue. “Don’t you think the fabric feels nice?”

She moved in behind him, stroked his arm gently and wrapped the scarf around one wrist and then the other. The fabric tickled the hairs on his arm. Edward found himself distracted by the contact. He could smell Rebecca’s perfume and instinctively he turned his head towards her.

“What are you doing?” He found his wrists caught between the back of the chair and the fabric of the scarf, as though she were wrapping him up like an exotic parcel.

“Um, nothing…” She leant down and kissed him briefly on the lips. “There.” She pulled the knot she’d made tighter and Edward tensed his arms. “I’ve always fancied having a man at my mercy.”

Rebecca moved back to face him properly. Her saw that her eyes were wide open, watching him greedily.

“This is just like one of those cop movies. Maybe I should be asking you probing questions.”

“What questions?” Edward felt vaguely worried. It couldn’t be about the letters, surely. There was no way she could know the truth about the letters.

“I seem to be getting teased mercilessly these days. I figure it’s someone else’s turn for a change. And right now it looks as though you’re going to be it.”

“Honestly Rebecca, I tease myself more than anyone else. You know it’s just a bit of fun.”

“Well maybe I fancy having a bit of fun too.”

As though she’d worked out every step of this encounter, Rebecca picked a large sack of flour from the floor. She poured a small mound into the cupped palm of her right hand and moved toward Edward. For a moment, as she crouched down, they were looking at each other eye to eye. He couldn’t help delighting in this chance to admire the sleek beauty of her face at close quarters. She leant in closer and smiled.

Rebecca released a sharp gust of breath and a cloud of flour exploded into his face. “Oops…”

He blinked rapidly, took several sharp breaths and shook his head to try and disperse the flour. He felt his nostrils prickle as part of the cloud found its way up his nose. He didn’t want to sneeze, but he couldn’t help himself. His hands were securely bound and he couldn’t even stifle the sound.

“Ahhh…shooo!”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry Ed, that flour seems to have got everywhere…”

Edward felt his skin reddening. He was acutely uncomfortable. His nose itched like mad. In his head he recalled the earlier image of Rebecca and the shop and the sneeze that had followed; all somehow inextricably linked. Even now, in this strangest of circumstances, he couldn’t help noticing he was feeling a little aroused.

He tried to steer his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Why did you … why …” but he couldn’t complete the question before another sneeze, this one louder than the last, exploded out of him. “Heckshooo!”

“Poor Ed, you look so uncomfortable. Trust me, I know what it’s like working here. Breathe in too much of that flour and you can find yourself sneezing for hours.”

Edward didn’t have an answer. He sniffed gallantly and then succumbed to another sneeze. “Heck-asssshoo.”

Rebecca smiled. “You know what I’d recommend? You need to clear your sinuses. A good blow ought to do it.” She took out a neatly folded handkerchief from her coat pocket and waved it towards Edward. “Hmm. I’d lend you this, but you don’t seem to have a free hand right now.”

“You could always untie me.”

“Yes, but this is so much more fun. I suppose I might be persuaded to release you. Maybe in exchange for a little bit of information.”

“Inf -” Edward gasped, caught on the brink of another sneeze. “What information?”

“The mystery admirer. I’d like you to tell me who it is.”

“Oh that…” Edward looked wearily at the handkerchief that Rebecca had placed just out of his reach. Each time he sniffed it felt as though the agony in his nose got worse. He wanted to let it all out, his senses felt ready to burst open. It was hard to disguise the exquisite torture he felt and yet at the same time the fact that it was exciting him was becoming patently obvious. He bit his lower lip and prayed Rebecca wouldn’t notice.

“I was just messing,” he pleaded. “I don’t really know anything.”

Rebecca stared coolly at him. “I don’t believe you.”

Edward tried to think of an answer he could give that might persuade Rebecca to untie him, but his mind was blank. The irritation in his nose was incredible and without a free hand to stifle it he felt utterly helpless. The relief when he sneezed again was so intense it almost took his breath away. He had no desire to be the centre of attention, but right now the thought of another sneeze of that same intensity seemed almost too good to contain. He let out a sigh that was part relief and part longing.

“Maybe I got this all wrong. You’re supposed to be in agony, but it looks to me like you’re enjoying yourself.” Rebecca placed a hand on his trousers and ran her fingers back and forth along the pronounced outline of his penis. “I’m sure there’s a name for people who enjoy being teased like this.”

Edward shook his head and then sneezed again. “Huh … hupshooo!”

Rebecca grinned. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

He drew another laboured breath, aware of a strong desire to sneeze again. The thought alone seemed to fascinate him to the point of distraction.

Rebecca was watching him, her eyes bright with curiosity. “I have a man at my complete mercy only to find he’s enjoying it more than I am. How strange. Maybe instead of interrogating you I should find something more productive to be doing with you.” She stroked his penis again, pushed her hands up higher, feeling under his shirt to his smooth skin and bony frame. “Yes, I reckon that could be much more fun.”

Edward sneezed. He flexed his hands, not quite able to believe he was still tied up, and tried to reach for the handkerchief that lay near his feet. Before he could test the strength of his bonds further, Rebecca climbed on top of him.

“You can clear your sinuses later. Right now there’s something more important I want you to concentrate on.”

She unzipped his trousers and pushed them roughly to the floor. Her coat was off and she was hitching up her skirt.

Edward turned his head away and sneezed again. “Huh-mmmpf!” Alarmingly he noticed his penis give a quick jolt, as though a small spark of pleasure had passed through him. And perhaps it had. He could no longer discern any sense in what was happening, but each sneeze was being released like a miniature orgasm and leaning over him now was the woman he’d fantasised over for months. She was grinning like a cat who’d snared a prize catch.

Rebecca put a finger to his lips and purred: “See if you can stop sneezing for a few seconds and give me your undivided attention…”

He sniffed forlornly and tried to steady his breathing.

Rebecca ran her hands hungrily across his shoulders, dug deep into the skin on his back. The room seemed to have grown warmer, as though someone had switched the oven on. She pushed his penis inside her, watching him the whole time. He could feel her warmth, her wetness, the sense that she might consume him then and there if she could. He was unused to being outmanoeuvred, but any struggle he made just seemed to heighten the sensation as she moved against him. Unlike his business meetings, there was no bluff here.

Edward was so busy trying to reconcile these conflicting emotions that he forgot all about the incessant itch in his nose. Out of nowhere he sneezed again, not once, not twice, but three times in quick succession.

“Hushoooo! Hushooo! Heckshewww!”

His head was buried below her shoulder. “I’m sorry…,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay. It feels kind of interesting when you sneeze. Your penis sort of twitches. Actually you feel very nice.”

She rocked up and down against him, forcing him in deeper and deeper. Her hands stroked his hair and she whispered: “You know what Ed, I’d quite like it if you could sneeze again.”

A part of Edward’s mind considered the request. He wasn’t really conscious of what he could or couldn’t do, but by sniffing in air through his clogged up nose it seemed to make the irritation much more intense. He lost the rhythm of her movement for a moment as his whole body tensed. And then:

“Hahshooo! Chewww! Ahhhshoooo!”

He felt his body spasm, muscles clench and unclench. Rebecca shivered and gave out an audible groan. He was desperate and hungry, no longer able to hold himself back. His breath came in deep gasps. He felt as if he were falling or the room was rearranging itself around him. At the moment of orgasm he cried out in spite of himself. Afterwards Rebecca held him. The motion between them lessened and soon all he could hear was his own heartbeat. Rebecca buried her head against his shoulder and then leant across to kiss him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

She moved to untie the scarf from around his wrists and then carefully rearranged her clothes. Almost as an afterthought she retrieved the handkerchief and passed it across to him. He clutched it gratefully, stifling a final sneeze in the process.

Rebecca laughed. “Oops, I think we missed our movie.”

Edward was too dazed to reply. He sniffed and then blew his nose.

"I hope you don’t mind what happened. You see it’s been driving me nuts, all these letters, all this secret admirer stuff. I simply had to know. And I’m so glad I finally found out.”

Absently Edward folded the handkerchief back up. “But I didn’t tell you anything …”

Rebecca hugged him again and then kissed him firmly on the lips. She smiled. “Yes, well perhaps I’ve worked it out for myself.”

Five minutes later Edward found himself standing out on the street, trying to make sense of all that had just happened. And as he walked back home, all he could think about was the love letters he had written and then been too shy to send. He had a whole pile stacked up in a drawer in his bedroom. He wondered who Rebecca’s real secret admirer was. He smiled. After tonight perhaps it didn’t matter

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [C.S] - twenty-nine | “just mix them up”

Warning: use of r-slur

“I want some macarons. A dozen.” The customer, a man in a suit with one airpod in his ear and his phone in his hand, said before Minsoo could even welcome him to the café and ask him what they wanted.

“O-okay,” Minsoo smiled. She got the box that fit a dozen macarons.

Though you were busy with the drink order of another customer, you kept an ear out in case she needed help.

“Okay, which ones would you like?”

“Just mix them up.”

“Are-- are you sure? There’s a lot and I might not pick ones to your taste.”

“Just mix them up.”

Minsoo nodded with trepidation. “Okay.”

She began picking up macarons from various trays, trying to give a good mix of dessert flavors and fruit flavors.

You handed your customer their drink order and wished them a nice day before noticing the lid rack was getting short on supply and turned to Minsoo.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

You walked to the back to get more lids and came back with a new sleeve and began refilling the rack.

“Not that one,” the customer said to Minsoo.

“Oh, sorry.” She put the one in her hand back and went for one on a different tray.

“Not that one either.”

“Okay.” She put it back.

“I don’t want fruit flavors.”

“I-- half the box is fruit flavors.”

“I don’t want them.”

“--Okay.” She began putting back the fruit ones.

“Are you stupid?”

You didn’t like that question or the tone he asked it with. You turned to face them. Now that you were looking at him, you could see he was a middle-aged man, and something in his expression told him he was the self-important type to go to restaurants to abuse the waitstaff. You had seen his type before, anyone who worked in retail or food service knew the type. Minsoo was new, she didn’t.

“What?” Minsoo asked.

“Are you stupid? Why are you giving me fruit flavors when I don't want them?”

“I-- I asked you what kind you wanted and you told me to ‘mix them up.’”

“But why would you give me fruit flavors? Do I look like I want fruit flavors?”

“Hey--” You said as you walked over.

“Are you retarded? Does your brain even work? Why would I want fruit flavors?!”

Minsoo’s eyes widened and began to water at his words. She shook from the panic and held on to the box harder to try and hide it.

“Don’t yell at her!” You yelled back as you moved in between her and the counter.

“Don’t yell at her?! She doesn’t know how to get someone’s order right!”

“You didn’t tell her what you wanted, that’s your fault!”

“I shouldn’t be treated like this! I am a paying customer! I come in here all the time!”

“Really? Because I’ve never seen you before!”

“I demand to speak to your manager!”

“Fine! I’ll get him--”

“Why are there raised voices in my establishment?” Seonghwa asked as he came through the kitchen door and walked over towards the counter.

“Are you the manager?!”

“I’m the owner.”

“This employee of yours is too stupid to get an order right, and this other one yelled at me! I am a paying customer and I demand you make this right! My order should be free!”

Seonghwa watched him for a few moments. The man faltered for the first time since starting his hissy fit as Seonghwa grilled him, his gaze raking over him like the eye of Sauron.

You thought Seonghwa was one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen since you first walked into the cafe, with his big eyes and sweet smile that made him look somewhat soft and feminine-- it was no wonder he modeled at one point. But right now he was kind of terrifying; his eyes narrowed as he scowled at the customer, and he suddenly looked like the perfect face to cast for a villain in a drama.

“And-- and you should fire her!” He pointed past you, to Minsoo. 

Minsoo jumped, dropping the box of macaroons and sending them spilling onto the floor. The tops of several cracked while others went rolling across the floor and under the counter. You felt Minsoo’s head drop to your shoulder and her hands grabbed your shirt as she held back a sob.

The man smiled. 

He thought he was getting his way, the piece of shit. Your lip curled as you opened your mouth. Seonghwa held a hand up, stopping you before you could do anything. You watched him, his face more relaxed, and somehow, his new lack of expression made him look more terrifying.

His lips parted and he paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow and gesturing politely to the camera on the wall. “You’re aware we have CCTV, right?”

“What?”

“And that newer systems have audio as well as video?”

“I-- what does that have to do with this?”

“I heard how you baited my employee into not knowing what you wanted. You told her to ‘mix it up’, and then yelled at her for giving you things you didn’t want. Explain to me how her inability to cater to your unspoken wishes is somehow her fault when you kept those wishes to yourself?”

“I-- she--”

Seonghwa turned to you. “Did he pay for the macaroons yet?”

“No.”

Minsoo’s grip tightened on your shirt and you reached behind your back to give her a reassuring pat. You could hear her breath hitch in her throat as she kept her head down, barely able to hold back tears. You kept your hand on her to try and reassure her.

“Good.” Seonghwa turned back to the man. “Get out.”

“What?!”

“You’ve insulted and yelled at my employees and you’ve insulted me by lying to me, you’re disturbing the other customers and causing a scene. Get out.”

“I-- I demand--!”

“I don’t care. You didn’t buy anything and I wouldn’t sell you anything now anyway, so get out before I call the police.”

At a loss, the man opened his mouth and closed it several times. You stared at him, angry because he had yelled at Minsoo. Seonghwa watched him coldly before taking out his cellphone and dialing.

“I-- I’m going to give this place a bad review online!!”

“Then I’ll post the CCTV footage of you yelling at my employees. Are you sure you want the people in your life to know that this is how you treat others?”

He jolted, clearly not wanting his friends or family to know he was such a piece of shit.

“Get out. Now.”

Clearly outgunned, the man huffed, turned around and left. He probably would have slammed the door too, if it didn’t have a hydraulic closer on it. He seemed embarrassed that he couldn’t storm out properly and walked faster.

Seonghwa stared in his direction until he could be sure he wasn’t turning around and coming back.

A customer - who you realized was the Song Mingi you had helped on your first day - was sitting at a nearby table with a short-haired woman and had been watching the whole thing. He clapped his hands and pumped his fist into the air. “Yeah! Boss man!”

The woman he was with put her hands out to stop him. He turned to her, confused by this, and she motioned for the three of you to ignore him and laughed at him quietly.

Seonghwa exhaled a laugh before turning to you and Minsoo. “Are you two okay?”

Minsoo shook her head.

“Minsoo, let’s go in the back,” you said over your shoulder.

“I-- I can’t move.” You and Seonghwa exchanged concerned glances. 

“Okay.” You turned slowly, loosening her grip on you. You put your arms around her and put your hands on her head to shield her. “I’m going to help you walk back there, okay.”

She nodded.

You walked backwards slowly, helping her to follow you as you made your way to the back. Her feet dragged, leaden from fear.

Once in the kitchen, she tripped on the floor mat and fell to her knees. The quick journey to the floor must have shocked her, because she started sobbing.

“I-- I-- I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I know, honey, I know.” 

You wrapped your arms around her and held her close as she cried. Her sobs came in quick bursts of pent-up emotions as she hyperventilated. You rubbed her back as she tried to speak.

“I didn’t-- he didn’t-- why did he--” 

“I know.”

“I’m not stupid!”

“I know. You’re not stupid. He’s the stupid one.”

“He is!”

“He’s so stupid he had to come here and yell at someone to try and get free shit. You know what kind of person does that?”

“W--what?”

“A really fucking stupid person, that’s who. I bet he doesn’t even like himself.”

“Re--really?”

“Mhm. Who the fuck goes around yelling at people for no reason? Like, he doesn’t give a shit at all about how his actions affect others or how other people see him or what kind of atmosphere he’s creating.”

“He doesn’t!” She cried harder.

“It has nothing to do with you, you were just an easy target since you work behind a counter and people behind counters aren’t supposed to retaliate. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She nodded.

“Hey.” Seonghwa said as he watched the two of you from the doorway and kept an eye on the counter at the same time. “Would you mind going back to the counter? I can take care of her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got her.”

You extracted yourself from Minsoo’s grasp and went back to the counter. Before you left, you saw Seonghwa take your place as she leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. You smiled, though you found it a little odd. But you guessed they must be close in some way because she’s San’s girlfriend. You went back to the counter and found Mingi and the woman he was at the table with waiting there.

“Hi Mingi and…” You gestured to the woman, indicating you didn’t know her name. 

“Dei, nice to meet you.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’m sorry about all that, do you need something else?”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” she said. “Is your coworker going to be okay?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Our boss is talking to her.”

“What the fuck was up with that guy, huh?” Mingi asked.

“Mingi!” Dei hit him on the shoulder.

“What? He was a piece of shit.”

She nodded but rolled her eyes at his lack of tact.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you said. “Some people just need to bully others to feel better about themselves I guess.”

“That was the weakest dick energy I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh my god,” Dei whispered.

You laughed. “I mean, you’re probably right. I can’t imagine a confident man acting like that towards other people.”

“Anyway,” she added. “We just wanted to check on her since she seemed pretty rattled. She was so nice to us when she helped us earlier.”

You nodded. “Thank you for your concern, I’ll let her know you asked about her.”

Mingi nodded. “See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.” Dei waved as they both turned to leave.

You waved with a smile. “See ya.”

You watched as they left and then turned to the mess on the floor and started picking up the macarons Minsoo had dropped. Wooyoung appeared, probably having come from the second kitchen door, and handed you a broom.

“Ah, I was just about to go looking for that. Thanks.”

He nodded. 

You crouched as you swiped the broom under the counter, trying to get the macarons that were under there.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t come out while that guy was yelling at you two.”

You looked up, surprised. “Oh… don’t worry, Seonghwa handled it.” 

He shook his head as you went back to hunting for the stray macarons.

“I had earbuds in and didn’t even realize what was happening until I saw Seonghwa murderwalk through the kitchen.”

You could see a macaron way back under the counter and fished for it. “I mean, Seonghwa was the only person who could have stopped his rampage anyway; since he owns the place. Assholes like that guy only respect authority.” 

Wooyoung was quiet.

You looked up. “Why do you feel so bad?”

He crouched down. “I-- you guys are my friends, I should help protect you from shitty customers.”

You tilted your head at him with a sigh and then stood and handed him the broom. “Get this macaron for me and we’ll call it even.”

Confused, he took the broom from you and got onto the floor, looking for the pastry.

You stretched your back. “Anyway, he was literally a ‘I want to speak to the manager’ type of businessdouche. There wouldn’t have been anything you could have done.”

He sighed as he knocked the macaron out from under the counter. It rolled and you stopped it with your foot.

“Yeah, I guess.” He picked it up, stood, and threw it into the garbage. “I hate that kind of person. Wasted such beautiful macarons, too.”

“Hey, if you feel so bad, maybe make something nice for Minsoo. I’m sure she and San would appreciate it.”

He tilted his head in confusion before seeming to consider what you said. “Yeah, I guess they would.”

You nodded. 

[ᵃ/ⁿ: ᵀʰᶦˢ ᵇᶦᵗ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᴹᶦⁿˢᵒᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᶦⁿˢᵖᶦʳᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ᵃ ᵍʳᵒᶜᵉʳʸ ˢᵗᵒʳᵉ. ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉˢ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ᵈᶦᵈ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᶦᶠ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳ⁻ˢˡᵘʳ 😀. ᵁⁿᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᴵ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜʳʸᶦⁿᵍ ʷʰᶦˡᵉ ʰᶦᵈᶦⁿᵍ ᵇᵉʰᶦⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗᵉʳ, ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵒ ʸ/ⁿˢ ᵒʳ ˢᵉᵒⁿᵍʰʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ.]

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[jazzthatonewriterchick]

I'll Show You "Uptight" (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Adult!Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which a very pissed and very emotionally frustrated Bakugou decides he’s not going to let you get away with your lip that easily and pays you a visit one girls’ night to prove to you that he is, indeed, able to be “looser” after you make a drunk comment about his introverted and uptight personality to your mutual friends and Kirishima “accidentally” spills the beans. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut (MINORS DON’T READ), 18+, AgedUp!Bakugou (he’s 25 years old), Swearing, Grinding, Public Displays of Affection, Mentions of & Consumption of Alcohol, Consensual Sex w/ Verbalization, Foreplay, Public Kink, Manhandling, Mild Degradation, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Spit Play, 69ing, Facefucking, Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Edge Play, Spanking, Mild Choking, MULTIPLE Positions, MULTIPLE Orgasms for Reader, Aftercare, Reader is black-coded but anyone can read this 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: Double update for y'all this week! The next chapter had me SWEATING so I hope it'll make y'all wanna touch some grass too lol -Jazz 💋💋

Ao3 link here!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

**********

Chapter Three 

It wasn’t hard for Bakugou to find what club you and the girls were at.

Damn Mina put everything online. They were at one of the hottest clubs in downtown Musutafu, known for playing reggaeton and dancehall that had the entire club moving as soon as Bakugou and the guys stepped through the double doors. The bodyguard standing at the doors outside didn’t ask for IDs, recognizing the faces of the pros…and because Bakugou slipped him a $100 tip.

See? He wasn’t that much of an asshole. 

The club was packed to capacity when he stepped in, bodies occupying the dance floor, the lounging areas situated on the side of the dance floor, and the upper balconies above the first floor. The lights flashed with the beat of the song playing, washing Bakugou in a golden light.

He already felt out of place, feeling tense, and awkward. At least he dressed the part–after arguing with Denki, he decided on some regular ripped jeans, sneakers, and a red V-neck that hugged his upper torso instead of the regular hoodie and sweats he initially wanted to wear. 

But he reminded himself he was here for a reason and he didn’t want to look like a slob or appear to be out of his element when he finally found you and got his hands on you…literally.

“So what now, genius?” Sero asked above the music. Kiri was already feeling the music, swaying his hips as he grabbed two full shots off of a tray a bottle girl walked around with, offering them to anyone who wanted them. 

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Denki hummed suggestively, eyeing a group of girls sitting a foot away from him, all laughs and mini skirts. 

Bakugou ignored his friends as he scoped you out, looking for a flash of that gorgeous skin and pretty smile. What he found wasn’t you but he knew you were close by when he spotted Jirou and Momo sitting at the bar staring dead at him.

“Wait,” he told his friends, already moving through the maze of the club to make it to his other set of friends. While Momo looked terrified to see him like he was the big bad wolf, Tsuyu didn’t look shocked to see him and Jirou was cool as a cucumber. 

“Where they at?” he grumbled immediately. 

Jirou popped a cherry from her cocktail in her mouth. “Hello to you, too.” Kiri gave each girl a squeeze while Denki wedged himself between their stools, wrapping an arm around each of them. “Ladies,” he purred. “Both looking lovely this evening. Especially you, boo.” 

“Here to harass us?” Jirou asked after pecking Denki’s cheek. Sero snickered, sitting down beside her. “Not you,” he replied. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Bakugou asked, not up for beating around the bush right now. Jirou shared a look with the girls and the guys who attempted to hide their smiles. “Dance floor,” she answered with a smirk. “But be gentle with her. She’s had some rounds.” 

‘Yeah, I bet,’ Bakugou thought, eyeing the empty cocktail glasses and a tray of discarded shots. He wondered how much you’ve had to drink and if you had been drinking water in between, but he made a mental note to ask you once he fucked you up.

With a determined stare shot toward the dance floor, he downed his own shot of tequila, tossed the glass aside, and he left his friends in search of you. 

“Be nice!” Kiri shouted after him, even when he never turned around. Once Bakugou was farther away to not hear, he turned to his friends with a grimace. “He ain’t gonna be nice.” 

Momo noted the way Bakugou stormed away, fists clenched and chest heaving. “Is he okay?” she asked nervously.

Kiri was more than happy to fill her and Jirou in, to which Momo got even more worried. “Um….should we stop him?” she worriedly asks. 

Jirou shook her head, smirking at Bakugou’s back. “Nah. I wanna see this unfold.” She turned to the fellas, offering them one of the tequila shots from the tray. “Shot?” 

“Please!” Denki chirped, gratefully taking the glass from her as the rest watched the dance floor, anticipating the drama that was soon to unfold like a soap opera. 

Meanwhile, Bakugou stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, ignoring anyone who recognized him, and gaped like he was a zoo animal. He wasn’t worried about these extras. He was worried about you. His eyes scanned the sea of moving bodies until he spotted Mina in her blue romper that made her pink skin pop and hugged her body. Uraraka was in front of her, back against Mina’s front, moving her hips in her yellow top and skinny jeans. 

And then, like a moth to a flame, his eyes were drawn to you. As soon as he saw you, his heart lurched and his pants got a bit tighter, captured by the way you moved in that damn dress that hugged your body the way he wanted to hug you.

His eyes went right to your waist, watching the seductive way you swung your hips and winded that ass. That damn ass. You must’ve loved dancehall. Bakugou has never been to a dancehall club before, but if it meant seeing you dance like this, he’d take you to every single one he could find…if you’d let him. 

Not to mention how your skin looked under the golden wash of the lights and how gorgeous you looked in braids. It had to be a crime to be this gorgeous. This sexy and alluring. Bakugou felt like a panting dog and he had to wipe the sweat on his hands off his jeans to avoid blowing the place up.

What the fuck was your problem? How dare you make him feel this way? 

Your words drifted back to him and he clenched his fists, more than prepared to make you eat them. But as soon as he caught sight of you, someone else did too. From behind you, as you obviously whined to the music, the stranger parted through the maze and loomed over you, all greedy eyes and pointed teeth directed at you. His girl. 

‘No,’ Bakugou thought to himself. ‘No, no, no, fuck naw!’ 

He then realized that it wasn’t him who was the dog. It was the motherfucker looking to get himself some of your ass.

And Bakugou decided that if this bitch was a dog, he was gonna be the motherfucking big bad wolf. 

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[the-7th-heart]

Inatober day 2!

I swear I wrote them on time, I'm just posting them now cause my anxiety was eating me up about anything I do online-

Anyway, I love this one personally. I looooved the prompt, it fit right in for me.

This includes a great deal of personal headcanons that I would love to elaborate on!

2 - constellations / darkness of space

I can feel it on my tongue

Brick and mortar as thick as scripture

Midorikawa didn’t struggle when they threw him into the dark room of what they knew as “The Hotel”. He knew it would be useless, he was done for. Might as well make it easy for them. Why should they try to break an already broken canvas of a being?

For the first week he didn’t move, he didn’t have the strength. Detoxing from daily radiation was worse than drugs. They had to connect him to some weird IV thing to just keep him alive until he could move his arms and eat.

Stuck in one place, for a week. Not moving. Not doing anything really. But thinking. Reviewing. Where did he go wrong? What has he calculated wrong? How could he disappoint Father like this? How could he disappoint… him… like this…?

Who was… he? He lingered in his memory, the very back of it. He brought colors to his sepia-colored dreams. But… where was he now? Was it all Midorikawa’s fault? Why was he always abandoned?

Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders as tall as towers

I babble on until my voice is gone

After 7 days people in suits came and disconnected the IV. They left Midorikawa a tray with some bread and butter and a flat butter knife and called it breakfast. He ate. He didn’t have a choice. After he had finished, he finally assessed how the room looked. It was dark, the walls were… weird… and only a tiny window near the top let him count the days he’d been left there.

Something touched his soul and made him do it. The little marks on the floor. They were days, for sure. All 7 of the ones he’s spent here already. But they were… in a shape, a familiar one. A one that brought… him… back.

Midorikawa sat back on the floor. His eyes flashed with images of something he knew he must know. It was a meeting. They were talking, more people than him and… him… Midorikawa was talking, or rather his mouth was. He was talking about his parents. His first abandonment. His first failure. One of them, a warm presence, said something about hoping they “got what they deserved” and everyone nodded. Midorikawa’s head did too.

“If they haven't yet, they will soon.”

He didn’t know if he said it in the past, in his head, or aloud. It wouldn’t be the first conversation he had in the past where he wasn’t sure. His throat was weaker each time.

He knew soon he wouldn’t be able to speak if he continued.

Memories made his head spin. And while the room was dark as night, there were no stars to trip over except the ones he marked on the floor. He had to get some rest…

This hill I'll die on is about 90 meters of bricks

Colored indigo, inscribed with my name, and lined with cedar

4 days after he got his line disconnected he completed another floor decoration. It was another series of day markers, but these were red, desperate strokes of a desperate person. It looked like a bird in his tired eyes, used to living in the dark after all the time spent there already. His voice was dying with every line he said to his shadow. That didn’t stop him from singing songs from his memories before falling asleep.

He didn’t know how long he’d be locked. His food was steady, but small, not enough to keep him full, but enough to keep him alive.

He wondered if he’d make it out alive.

He marked another day without a blood spill on the wall this time and went to sleep.

But the words fall flat like cymbals crashing

Like molars gnashing

On day 14 more people were brought in. He recognized the voices. All the voices. His head was clearer now, but his memories still remained in pain. But he remembered one name.

Epsilon.

“What do you mean we tied and we still have to come here?!”

“Because Father said so. Apparently, this can help us prepare for his further plans.”

“Bullshit not plans! This is a prison for losers, not us. We got off scot-free. Unlike the rest of suckers locked in here.”

“Underestimate our opponent and you may end up being locked up here as well. And when that time comes, I will not help you.”

“But-”

“And calling Gemini Storm “losers” would be highly inaccurate considering Raimon took 4 attempts to even score them a point and they only won because of that new striker of theirs.”

“You’re defending them?”

“Gemini Storm?” A short moment of silence fell, as Midorikawa felt the gaze of the… The captain stop at his door. He nudged himself over closer. “Yes. They are exceptional players.”

“And Raimon beat them.”

“There will come a time when Raimon will beat Genesis. That’s all I’ll say.”

Midorikawa wanted to scream. He wanted to shout, to make his presence known, but he killed his voice some time ago. And even if he could shout, he couldn’t be heard. He never was. But this time he had the room to fight with.

Because the room was empty, but not in a way an empty room is empty. In an empty room, the echo is unbearable, the only way for it to stop is to fill the room.

This room was so empty even the echo wasn’t there, taken away by the soft material in the ceiling and stripes on the walls.

Midorikawa slid down the door and cried.

All he could do was cry these days.

They gave him more water when he cried.

And the water kept him full.

'Cause like constellations a million years away

Every good intention, every good intention

Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array

Looking for the faces, looking for the shapes in the silence

He walked now. He would get sick when he stood for too long, but he could walk now without pain.

On day 24 he finished another piece. A huge bird that brings thunder and flames. It took up the smaller wall, the one with the window, opposite the door.

At night, he got more and more images of… him… and the Others. He still didn’t remember their names. He couldn’t remember why it hurt to see them all happy. He didn’t recall why he was so scared of them the closer to the Day it got. He didn’t know what happened on the Day, yet, but it was the day when he knew something changed.

He only remembered… him… telling Midorikawa it will all be good. That Father said they will help the world. That it all is done in good faith.

How foolish can a child be to believe an empty promise of a broken man?

Day 25 brought the voices again.

Midorikawa heard another one too. It was sharp, melodic, once again familiar. And it was hostile.

“Get them into separate cells.”

“Desarm, do something! We’re supposed to just stand down?”

“Good little soldiers follow Father's orders without missing their cue.”

“Desarm, will you just let them lock us up?! We did everything he asked for!!”

“And apparently it wasn’t enough to keep your spot above~”

“SAGINUMA WILL YOU JUST SAY SOMETHING!!!”

“Sagi…numa…” Midorikawa rasped out. His throat was getting better after his head got clear enough to talk in it. “Saginuma.” He said again under his breath. He knew they wouldn’t hear him, not like they cared anyway, but he didn’t think his voice could handle loud noises yet. Suddenly he went on autopilot while the voices waited for an answer.

“Saginuma Osamu. 19 years old. Supposed to finish high school but dropped out due to personal conflict. Forward working as a goalkeeper and captain of the Epsilon team of the Aliea Academy. Switched between numbers 1 and 11 due to the previous. Oldest in the Sun Garden orphanage to date. Joined after his… his parents… went their separate ways, the court said he would be better with… us… in the Sun Garden…” Tears came. Typical. He finished and continued listening.

“DESA-”

“I already told you, I won’t help you when Raimon finally beats us. Where to, Gazel?”

“Right, up ahead.”

“Hope you’ll handle your loss better than my team did.”

“We won’t lose. Not to them, not to Gran.”

“We all will eventually…”

All that's left for me to climb to the heavens is

The chasm of the night and a matter of time

After the Epsilon came the nights got loud. They had more power and more strength, their detox went… differently.

Gemini Storm suffered alone in silence.

Epsilon Kai suffered together, their whales breaking through the usual silence of the Hotel. All except Saginuma whose voice remained hidden, silent.

Midorikawa wished he had that power in his voice. The power to shout.

But he never had, not even in the past, much less now.

He ripped the soft material from the wall to the right of the door. He needed space for more days, another picture for his eyes.

He walked so much recently the red he used for his second work faded away. He never wanted to repeat that. little crosses on the concrete made with the metal tool they’d given him beginning week 2 was enough. He was running out of ideas anyway.

The room was still dark. That remained a constant. The perspective from which Midorikawa saw it changed, but the darkness prevailed. Darkness and memories. So many new memories…

Of himself.

Of… him…

Of the Others.

The names started coming back too. Gradually. He knew Saginuma, very well in fact. And not just the formula from the register the Father had. He knew he loved honeydew softbread. He knew where in the orphanage he kept his private box of souvenirs. He knew he played Pulitzer in their low-quality version of orphanage Newsies. He said he wasn’t happy about it, but Midorikawa remembered how much fun they all had back then. Back when things were good…

Before the other kids from the Sun Garden started gradually disappearing. It started the day before Valentine's Day when he was young, maybe 11? On the actual day… he… was summoned by the Father. He was supposed to go. Midorikawa didn’t let him, nobody let him, and the 6 of them all left together.

The rest of that day is pure pain. And darkness…

But I hear the rumble

As the tectonic plates start to shake

And I feel my blood pounding like the beat of a drum

He finished his biggest work on day 37. Or was it 38? Did he lose a day? It might’ve fallen out of his head, it was pretty busy there recently…

The counter took up the whole wall to the right of the door. The cupbearer. Where did he get all of this from? Why did he know precisely where to put the next part? Why was his mind prevailing as a minefield even when he’d run around in it multiple times before? What else was he yet to trigger?

He got used to the noise after a few days. Relatively fast. There was some comfort to waking up and not feeling the overwhelming emptiness right away. He felt bad for Epsilon, he thought. He wasn’t sure, he could never be sure. He was sure of one thing and that is he had one more to do. One more image.

The day after that was violent.

“Let GO of me!! Get your hands OFF!!!” Yet another voice Midorikawa recognized. He knew him by a different name, but he was going by Burn now which seemed fitting. He was the one to be mad about how their parents treated them before Sun Garden. He was almost as mad now.

“If you resist it will only be more painful.” That was one of the guards. “And half of your team is already in pain.”

The half was brought to the Hotel a few days prior, but they were immediately taken to a different part of the building. Midorikawa heard some other people being moved from this part to a different one that day too. Most of them were from Epsilon but members of his own team were there too. After that, the empty felt even more… empty, for a lack of better word.

He was left in the corridor. He wondered if they had just forgotten about him again. They did that sometimes with food.

They abandoned him again.

He knew Saginuma or Desarm, or however he chose to call himself now, was still there. In his corridor. Midorikawa knew that after the renovations he made to make space, if he shouted loud enough he could reach him. Maybe?

He forgot what the corridors looked like out there…

“I’ll let you go for now, so play nice or play dead, not like they pay us enough to worry about one kid going missing.” Midorikawa heard the jingling of keys right under his door.

“GAZEL, NOW!!”

“WHAT ARE YOU-”

A flash outside. So bright it seeped under the door. The temperature drop came simultaneously with the light and the noise.

Struggle. Somebody got thrown at Midorikawa’s door. He fell to the floor, safely tucked into a corner so just if they broke it he’d be safe. Sort of.

“Burn, WATCH OUT-”

More crashing. Noise. Worse than the noises from Epsilon kids.

Prominence and Diamond Dust sure knew how to make an entrance.

“SUZUNO, NO! DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM!!!”

Flames. There were flames in the corridor. Fire, flame, warmth, heat-

The metal door stood. Barely. But it stood. It looked hot to the touch so Midorikawa got closer. He didn’t have a blanket in the room to warm up after the sudden drop so some heat was a welcomed friend.

Then with a buzzing noise, it all fell silent for a second. Then the Guard from the beginning said “Take the other one to the east wing. We can’t risk them hearing each other, we don’t know how much these guys are actually worth.” and that’s how the day fell to night.

Midorikawa knew that Nagumo was locked in the room next to him. They were separated by a wall. The one with the newest picture.

He didn’t try to get close.

He avoided that side of the room as much as he could.

He was scared that if he got too close he'd get burned.

'Cause like constellations a million years away

Midorikawa couldn’t sleep that night. He got the worst amount of memories so far. All of them. Their faces were now connected to their names connected to their characters. Their characters - connected to years upon years of pain. Constant pain.

He didn’t want to feel the dread he felt when he remembered them now.

He didn’t want to be scared for his life remembering they were in the same building as him.

He just wanted to be able to call them home again.

Every good intention, every good intention

Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array

The crashing of doors woke him up. He was disoriented, what was even going on?

He looked at his final counter on the biggest wall for some information - the day, the day that was before.

His door opened. He bolted to the corner, pushing his back as much against the wall as he could.

It was an older man in a trenchcoat with a beard. He looked angry and sad and tense, but he had kind eyes.

Midorikawa could trust kind eyes.

“You’re alright now, we’ve destroyed the meteorite and the guy is going to be in our custody as soon as we get you all out of here.” He said, his voice rasp. Natural or a smoker? He didn’t smell of nicotine…

Midorikawa took a few shaky steps and leaned out at the corridor. He squinted his eyes, it was much brighter than in his room.

The corridors were thin and there weren’t a lot of doors. As soon as the old man moved on to the other doors with a crowbar to open them, Midorikawa ran.

He saw a flash of red hair. That’s why he ran.

He ran after him to see if he was real.

Clinging to the faces, clinging to the shapes in the silence

He was running after a voice. It kept calling a known name.

“SUZUNO!!!”

Midorikawa hadn’t seen him yet. But he was close behind.

The cold voice Midorikawa heard before rasped something from somewhere and the speed of footsteps increased.

Midorikawa turned the corner and he was in another part of the Hotel. The wall said “East Wing”.

It was a little bit of an open clearing. The floor was covered in carpets.

In the middle of it all were two boys, on their knees as if they just fell, clinging to each other like the world was ending. Their clothes were loose after the diet in this place, the palms of their hands griping at the fabric as if the other was about to fly away.

The rest of the world didn’t exist for them. It didn’t need to when they had one another.

They were hugging, 2 hearts beating as one, their heads fitting perfectly over their shoulders.

“I thought they…”

“I’m here, I’m here,”

“... they came and threatened you and I…”

“I’m here, I’m real, I’m right here”

“I never want to lose you like that again”

“You won’t, I won’t let them”

Suzuno extended his arms a little so he could look into Nagumo’s puffy eyes with his own glassy ones. And then he brought their faces together for a kiss, a promise to never let go. Nagumo looked startled but joined in it and when they pulled apart, they just sat there, crying, holding their faces, touching their foreheads for support.

Midorikawa left. He felt like he violated something sacred. But somewhere deep, something told him he would keep what he saw. “For later”.

He ran again.

He ran with the noise.

He ran towards where the rest had to be.

He ran towards the sun.

Like constellations imploding in the night

Everything is turning, everything is turning

They were free.

All of them.

Back at Sun Garden.

Back at home.

But Midorikawa didn’t feel safe there anymore. Not just now anyway, after all that’s happened.

So he came back. He kept coming back.

He didn’t want to so he didn’t tell anyone.

But he didn’t know any other room of his own.

And he needed to finish his work.

And the shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light

And everything you thought you knew will fall apart, but you'll be all right

19 stars. Perseus. The hero.

Yagami Reina.

13 stars. Aquarius. Cupbearer of the gods.

Suzuno Fuusuke.

10 stars. Aquila. Eagle thunder-bringer.

Nagumo Haruya.

4 stars. Corvus. The crow.

Saginuma Osamu.

7 stars. Ursa Major. The big bear.

…Him…

Hiroto.

Kiyama Hiroto.

Midorikawa Ryuuji sat on the floor he knew oh, so well. They were all there. They were always there. He knew they were and would be even if he didn’t let himself recognize their faces.

He wasn’t crying, he was just sitting with tears streaming down his cheeks.

He couldn’t see around him.

He was drowned by the silence.

He didn’t hear the door or the footsteps.

He felt support, light pressure applied all around him.

“Sorry.” filled the void the silence masked all this time.

They were still there. And they were more than scratches on concrete.

His home was there and he knew, deep inside he always knew, that they would never let anyone abandon him again.

[iloveanimalsmorethanhumans]

The elderly couple stepped across the threshold, admiring the understated furnishings and fine silver. Their feet sank into thick plush carpet. The doors closed behind them and the pale woman who let them in said quietly

"He will be with you in a moment. Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink? Some wine perhaps?"

"Should we?" The woman asked, raising her fingers to her lips. "Is it....allowed? It won't...you know...cause an...issue?" She inquired hesitantly.

The pale woman smiled "No ma'am, it's perfectly fine"

"Well, I suppose..." She replied, turning her eyes to her husband.

"I suppose indeed! Live it up, I say!" He declared, grinning widely and looking, for the first time in months, genuinely happy.

His wife smiled and nodded. "OK then."

"I'll return in a moment. Please, have a seat!" She spread her hands, indicating a plush and comfortable looking love seat.

They sat, she, primly crossing her ankles, hands in her lap, feeling slightly nervous.

Her husband sat comfortably beside her, sinking into the cushions with a sigh, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "Don't worry darling. Everything will be just fine. I promise you!" He leaned forward and planted a noisy kiss on her soft cheek, just as he had always done. She smiled and sighed.

"I do hope so."

"Ah! Hello! And here you are!" Said a deep, heavily accented voice behind them.

Their host made his way around the loveseat, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground. Quite a feat in such a large man. He held two glasses of wine out to them.

"Only the finest for my guests! I don't know a thing about the stuff but it was very expensive and the sommelier simply raved about it! I do hope he was correct."

The old man leaned forward, grunting slightly, and accepted a glass, passing it carefully to his wife before accepting the other.

"Splendid!" Their host enthused.

He sat in the heavily upholstered chair across from them. It resembled a throne, carved from some ancient wood, rich and glowing with polish, the cloth deep red and shot with gold in strange patterns the eye could not discern.

He crossed his legs and clasped his knee, beaming at them.

"So, I know the story of course, and I'm so glad to be of service!"

The old woman's hand trembled slightly and she spilled a few drops of wine.

"Nervous? It's ok. I understand completely! But I promise it will be a simple and painless process. Let's not talk about that now. How was the drive?"

The old man snorted almost choking on his wine.

"Fine! It was fine. I'm sorry, this just....well it wasn't what we expected."

Their host raised his hands and smiled, flashing his very white teeth.

"I know, I know. It never is as expected." He chuckled, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, his eyes shining over them, almost black in the soft lighting. "Please, do relax and enjoy. I insist!" He leaned forward uncrossing his legs and suddenly becoming serious. "There is one thing though, a small matter that we must attend too. My deepest apologies, but it has recently become...er...necessary."

He snapped his fingers twice, quickly and the pale woman reappeared holding a tray. She set it down before him. The tray held a neat stack of papers typed, and carefully aligned. The paper was thick and expensive looking. He looked steadily at his guests his voice suddenly grave and important.

"Due to recent, ehrm, events, we have found it necessary to insist upon a form of written consent. I won't go into detail but it is all quite legal. The lawyers insisted." He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Elena is a notary and will observe the proceedings and add her seal and signature. She took the course online and passed easily!"

He beamed at the pale woman, she ducked her head shyly and smiled.

"Please do read over it carefully. If you have questions I can have Elena call the lawyer. It's really very detailed. Those lawyers certainly do enjoy, ahem, language and such."

The couple looked at each other in surprise. "Oh!" The woman said "I hadn't thought..."

Their host sighed, leaning back

"I know, I know. It really is bothersome but apparently these days consent does not come without a lot of very big words. I never thought I'd see the day, but you never can tell in this...ehrm....form of service."

He flashed a quick apologetic smile, those white teeth bright, the canines thin and sharp.

The couple put down their glasses, carefully reading through the document, the old man mouthing a word here and there in wonder.

"Accidental survival?" He whispered

"Potential permanent damage to skin, clothes and... hair?" The woman murmured quickly looking up and raising a hand to her head.

"Ahem...yes well, sometimes there is a brief moment of...ehrm...panic and were someone to unexpectedly pull away...well....hair might be...lost...should that person...perhaps then run screaming....well, it creates quite a scene, and I am forced to discontinue. Rare occurrence really... just the once..." his voice trailed off, and he looked quite uncomfortable.

The man picked up the fine gold pen next to the documents.

"I am here of my own free will. I do consent and intend to follow through!" And without reading further, he signed with a flourish.

"Wonderful!" Their host exclaimed.

The old woman smiled nervously glancing at her husband.

"And you?" Their host asked, extending a large hand. The woman noticed his fingernails, long, pointed and well manicured.

"Well, darling, as long as you are happy it's all I ever wished!" She took the pen from her husband and signed carefully.

Elena stepped forward with her own pen. A surprisingly ordinary ball point. She signed quickly and efficiently, embossing the thick paper with an official looking stamp, then she picked up the tray and disappeared.

Their host looked at the woman, "you'll get a copy." She nodded soberly.

"Well then!" He said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling, "shall we, kind sir?"

He stood fluidly, like a stretching cat, extending to his full intimidating height.

"We will go to the courtyard outside then. It's better there. A lovely night, I understand! Madam" he said, extending his hand towards the old woman who stood with her husband, her arm through his, protectively. She gave him her hand. He bent and barely brushed his lips across her knuckles "I ask that you stay here. This can be...unpleasant. I will return in a moment. Elena will put on some music or perhaps, the sound of the ocean? It's very soothing. I know this is difficult" his eyes were warm as he gazed into hers.

She felt calm and relaxed. "Yes. That would be lovely"

She turned to her husband and kissed him passionately, one last time. "I'll always love you."

"And I, you " he replied. Holding her close.

"Alright then, Mr Dracul....I'm ready."

"Oh, please! Call me Vlad! We are going to be getting very close indeed! Let's not stand on formalities! Bid adieu to this little life and all its inconveniences and illness.

Sincerely, I thank you both for this honor."

And with that he led the old man away, the cancer eating away at him soon to be discarded, the healthy remaining blood to serve it's purpose, with consent.

[tamilhobbit]

Inktober/Randomtober Day 4 - Leaf

In D&D and Pathfinder, druids don't wear metal armour or use shields made of metal.

Pathfinder also has something called Leaf Armour, where Elves and some Druidic orders use alchemical compounds to treat special leaves. The leaves are stitched together in an overlapping pattern to create a sort of leathery armour as strong as its metal counterparts.

Many years ago, when we were playing the Reign of Winter campaign, I played a Druid called Beravald. I believe she started out wearing Leaf Armour. So I had a go at that today. (And yes, I did shamelessly just take my Beorning character from Lord of the Rings Online and turn her into a Druid for tabletop gaming. I like Beravald.)

I did use shimmery metallic silver paints for the axe, but it doesn't show up well on camera. It's quite shiny IRL.

Also, the splash of yellow-green paint spilling over her right shoulder is when I noticed that the cat was on the kitchen counter licking a tray and my hand jerked. 😜

[diemauer]

↺ * ⁎  – @m1dfielder sent : Knowing it was her birthday, and the fact they had an easy day after the game yesterday, Jo knew he could wake up before her and prepare a variety of breakfast foods to bring to the bedroom. And he does so with a smile on his face, along with a card to tell her not to make any other plans for the rest of the day. Once he got back from light training, then he would tell her the rest of the day they had together. A soft kiss is placed upon her forehead, knowing it would stir her awake as he was leaving for the training facility. He knew his space would be occupied by the tray of food, not worried about what would happen as a glass of water and orange juice was placed on her bedside table. And after a few hours, he'd be back to continue the celebration of his love being born.

                             despite   how   easy   the   game   was   for   the   team   and   even   the   events   afterwards   ,   she   was   exhausted.   pregnancy   having   taken   a   toll   on   her   physically.   but   after   all,   she'd   been   nonstop   between   work   and   making   sure   she   was   doing   what   she   could   to   prep   for   when   their   baby   would   arrive.   her   birthday   –   nearly   slipped   her   mind   until   Bambi   made   it   a   effort   to   sing   happy   birthday   to   her   in   a   voicemail   that   he   had   left   her   right   at   midnight.   a   year   ago   –   things   weren't   this   way.   a   year   ago,   she   was   still   trying   to   capture   his   attention.   and   here   he   was   ,   now   waking   her   up   with   breakfast   and   a   kiss   to   her   forhead   as   he   left   out.    and   she   couldn't   stop   from   smiling   once   her   eyes   saw   all   of   her   favorite   things   he   had   made   her.   and   the   card,   reading   for   her   to   not   make   any   plans.   she   was   damn   sure   not   to.    slowly   she   reached   for   the   tray   ,   making   sure   not   to   spill   anything   and   proceed   to   eat   every   last   bite   of   it.   and   drink   both   glasses   of   water   and   orange   juice.   once   she   was   finished   ,   she   made   her   way   into   the   shower   –   spending   a   bit   ,   allowing   the   water   to   help   wake   her   up.   and   once   she   was   out   ,   she   picked   out   something   to   wear   –   something   comfortable   and   flowy.   it   seemed   as   if   time   couldn't   pass   by   quick   enough   for   practice   to   end   and   she   spent   that   time   ,   working   on   some   online   work.   once   she   heard   the   apartment   door   open   though,   she   stopped   and   made   her   way   to   greet   him.   giving   him   the   biggest   smile.   ❝   I   love   you.   and   breakfast   –   was   perfect.   thank   you,   my   love.   ❞