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Ayerbamansa.bsky.social

Reposting #OFMDDrabbleWeek#ofmd

“Are we gonna have a problem, mate?” Stede squirms against the restraints, feeling the burn against his wrists. “Erm, no,” he says, earning a wicked arched eyebrow. “No, sir,” he corrects, settling himself. Mostly. “Now, you know how much I like it when you resist,” Ed says, his voice as molten and liquid as that fancy drinking chocolate he likes (but that’s not the fucking scene, Stede!). “But if you want your reward, you have to be good.” “Please, I’ll be so good! I’ll—I’ll be quiet, no noise, no—” Ed cackles and feeds Stede his cock. “Damn right you will.”
Our Flag Means Death Drabble Week Day 5 pledge | wake | resist lead | glide | problem suspect | tiny | noise entire right column is crossed out: resist - problem - noise
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Ayerbamansa.bsky.social

Reposting #OFMDDrabbleWeek#ofmd

Besides the memory loss, it’s Ed’s voice that unnerves Stede the most. Ed speaks now with a slight tremble, as if he’s wary of what raising his voice might conjure. It’s been four days, and he still hasn’t sat at the piano. Nor has he asked about the photos on the wall. It feels like the shape of a clue, somehow. Stede’s afraid to ask. He thinks maybe Ed’s deliberately avoiding them, averting his gaze to a lamp or the floor. But Stede’s no expert in this sort of trauma. But Ed’s here, and he’s not leaving. That means the world. That means there’s hope. He just needs to have patience. “I was thinking, love,” Stede says, the endearment carelessly slipping from his lips, “that perhaps today you might like a bath instead of a shower.” Ed’s face goes on a brief journey before he schools it, grunting something that sounds like “maybe” and “dunno.”
“You need to relax,” Stede asserts. He instantly regrets how it sounds like a command, but it seems to get Ed’s attention. “We have a lavender bath oil you love,” he adds softly. Ed hums and shuffles a little, following Stede into the bathroom. He lets Stede help him out of his clothes and into a robe, the rich blue one that Stede’s considered Ed’s since he put it on their first morning together. Stede runs the bath. As they wait for the tub to fill, he offers Ed a sniff of the oil, hoping it might help him remember. Instead, he sneezes. “Bless you,” Stede says somberly. So much for remembering. He gives Ed his privacy while he bathes and slips into the office. Frenchie sent along abstracts for a handful of mystic journal articles for him to read. They’re going to fix this.
Our Flag Means Death Drabble Week Day 4 Blackout board: memory | clue | abstract expert | slight | command tremble | shower | bless
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Ayerbamansa.bsky.social

Reposting #OFMDDrabbleWeek#ofmd

It’s a peaceful night for a float. The pool in the basement of their hotel officially closed at 10, but Olu sweet-talked the front desk clerk for a key. The room is humid, but not hot, and there’s only a handful of ambient lights in the room. The only bright lights are in the pool itself, dancing and distorted through the water. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Olu calls out, plunging underwater in a single hop. When he re-emerges, Jim floats serenely past, undisturbed by the waves. So he playfully dunks their head underwater. Retaliation is sure to follow.
Our Flag Means Death Drabble Week: Day 1 nothing | blow | bright cape | float | core dunk | eat | bill diagonal is crossed out for bright - float - dunk
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Ayerbamansa.bsky.social

would it be annoying to repost my #OFMDDrabbleWeek stuff over here?

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TLlatinkraken.bsky.social

Ok, let's try this! Day 5 of #OFMDDrabbleWeek@ofmdzb.bsky.social Mind the tags. Cw: office setting, power imbalance maybe? mention of gagging and improper use of underwear.

“Mr. Bonnet, there's a tiny problem with your project. Come to my office to discuss it, please.” “Right away, Mr. Teach.” The second the door closes behind them, they are desperately kissing, tugging their clothes out of the way. “Do you think they suspect anything?” Ed asks, gasping for air. “Not a chance.” “Good. Will you be able to hold those delicious noises you make or do I need to feed you my thong?” “Fuck.” — Outside, Lucius stands from his desk and claps loudly. “Ok, crew, you know the drill. Two-hour lunch at Roach's on the corporate card, let's go.”
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