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thewritersline · 2 months ago

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Hi! Not gonna lie, my brain has been in a bit of a life-induced shutdown for the past little while. I only just thought to myself, gee, maybe I should update that one poll.

I loved reading about everyone’s thoughts and theories on this, ranging from “how would an approval rating be measured in this Clearly Very Serious fantasy world?” to “Why would Ignacio be able to drink alcohol?? Dragon fire + booze = a bad time for protag.”

It was so nice to have someone else’s feedback on this little project, and I love each and every one on you for this. Some of your responses made me look closer into the themes of friendship and family in my story, and I’ve been brainstorming more with Iggy than I have in a while. I also had to sit down for a while and come to terms with the fact that while our reluctant dragon slayer doesn’t love the nickname Iggy, he vastly prefers it to Nacho, which was the only other option. I could type his full name out each time, but one of the greatest joys in writing is annoying your characters like you would your pet cats. These are things I had never given such focused thought to before, so thank you so much for all of that!

NOW, THE LONG AWAITED RESULTS (IMPORTANT BITS ARE BOLDED AND IN CAPS):

First, Ignacio was absolutely a ye olde frat boy before his curse. He loved to have a good time, and for him that meant drinking, flirting, and doing stupid things for booze or attention. You can imagine that he was more than a little shocked when he woke up after being dragon-cursed to discover that even getting anything but the most watered-down of ales close to his mouth would result in unintentional fire breath. On the plus side, he literally can’t drunkenly brag about anything that could get yet another curse placed on him. Unfortunately, his social life is kaput.

To clarify: IGNACIO CAN NOT DRINK ALCOHOL. Kudos to those of you who sussed that out!

Second, the Witch King might be involved in the darker side of the magical arts, but he hasn’t led the kingdom into a war, or caused a famine, or raised taxes, or angered the gods, or gotten the land cursed by a malevolent fairy who turned his entire castle staff into talking furniture, and he even takes constructive criticism and travels regularly to check on how things are running, so he’s doing pretty well. There hasn’t even been a plague of either the magical or non-magical variety. There might have been a few sketchy rituals when he was just a Witch Prince, but since then he’s grown as a person and he takes his job very seriously. Depending on the day, it wouldn’t be unheard of for about 86% of his citizens to approve of him, if you bothered to ask.

So: THE WITCH KING WOULD HAVE A HIGH APPROVAL RATING.

Which means…

THE LIE WAS THAT IGNACIO AND JACK WERE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS.

The two of them never even knew each other as children. There isn’t any personal reason for Jack to be opposed to Ignacio, just Jack’s adherence to the classic fairy tale trope of Good vs Evil. As far as he’s concerned, Iggy is an Evil Dragon Necromancer Villain and the perfect to Jack’s Poor Farm Boy Hero shtick. You would think this would make it easier for Iggy to plead his case, but Jack has a very firm view of right and wrong and has placed Iggy firmly on the side of wrong, so he won’t even hear the guy out. As if our boy doesn’t have enough problems.

So that’s that! If you want to hear more about this little world, feel free to send me an ask or tag me in more writeblr games!

Two Truths and a Lie

My first writeblr game! Thank you to @new-royston-cursebreakers for the tag! His poll is here.

I'll put a little bit about my wip first, since I haven't actually talked about it here.

Protag: Ignacio, adventurer dragon fighter blaggard and reluctant necromancer.

Background and motivation: He's been cursed with burning blood, scales, and other dragon-related suffering by a witch king. The curse can only be broken when Ignacio slays the dragon that had been tormenting the realm. This would be difficult enough, but to top it all off, the dragon died on it's own before Ignacio could get to it. Now Ignacio is searching for some way to bring the dragon back from the dead so he can kill it again and finally get back to his old life.

Setting: The world functions on fairy tale logic, where strange and disturbing things are considered normal and almost everyone who could be helpful is unnecessary cryptic. There're plenty of classic fairy tale characters, including talking animals, pixies, trolls, knights, princesses, witches in disguise, and many more.

Antag: Jack, a simple farm boy who's strangely proficient with a sword. He's the classic hero, chosen by fate to stop Ignacio from resurrecting the dragon that laid waste to their kingdom.

Now, on to the game!

I'm tagging @thegrindingwheel, @luminary-lines, @revenantlore, @storyteller-kara, @wintherlywords, and @zinabug-writes (or @zinabug if your side blog isn't linking properly).

#writeblr polls #writeblr tag game #Ignacio the Dragon Slayer #Jack the Farm Boy #Witch King (4.3 stars on Rate My Ruler)

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caseylicious · 2 years ago

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Two Sides of a Story.

Request: Can you write an angsty Rise!Donnie x FEM!Reader? Where the reader doesn't know how Donnie feels about a relationship. She also has like a terrible self esteem, so she hides her feelings behind witty banter. But it gets overwhelming sometimes.

Summary: Reader has feelings for Donnie, however has a terrible self-esteem. What happens during one of their heated argument, she accidentally reveals her feelings?

Character: Donnie.

Reader: FEMALE

Relationship: CRUSH! (No established romantic relationship.)

Warning: Heavy Argument, Bad Self esteem, Angst if, of course you're not into that.

Words: 1444 (with the hcs and oneshots)

A/N: Thank you for being my first request! (Even though I have accidentally answered it unfinished) I remembered the majority of the request! So yay!! ALSO thank you for the angst dear! Please know that I love you even if you aren't perfect.

Also, I have no clue if you wanted headcanons or a Oneshot, so why not? Let's just do both! I'm in a good mood after all. I WILL BE WRITING A PART 2 OMG <; 3 Please Enjoy 💐

[ If you have any constructive criticism or corrections for any of my English do let me know! :) ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

This wasn't right. You having a crush on Donnie out of all people? You really thought feelings like this wouldn't appear around him. You thought it was going to be another little "He's Attractive, that's all." But oohh no... You just had to find him comforting to be around. It really started when you were staying over to get help for your project; and who better to get advice than the science man himself? Donnie!

So there you both were, him leaning over to check over all of your math. It wasn't until he complimented your work that your heart all of a sudden fluttered. It felt strange, wrong. Not because he was a mutated turtle, no! It was just.. you were nothing like him. At all.

Did you look at yourself? Your face didn't look right, Your curves are non-existent. Have you heard your voice, it just didn't sound.. right. Nothing about you was right. And you sobbed over those factors of yourself every single night. But, your feelings are stronger than your own thoughts. You couldn't stop your heart from fluttering and stomach from twisting, yet you somehow "knew" that he wasn't interested in you. Nor in any romantic relationship, especially with you.

So, the only thing you could do to defend yourself? Was to have a whole different identity around him. But you knew he could see through your defenses. Which made him curious and confused.

But no. You chose to have an argument about your attitude around yourself. It made Donnie's brothers concerned, especially since you both have gotten along really well. They knew he didn't like social interaction, so watching you and him bicker; back and forth? They knew something had to change, and April had a plan.

"Guys, how long can we keep listening to them argue?" April crossed her arms, leaning against a pole. Leo sighed as Mikey had a frown.

"It's hurting them both..." He bit his lip a little, trying to find the words to their situation. "How long until one of them breaks?" Raph thought to himself, trying to get "Mental Raph" to help in their problem. Leo let out a groan, clearly annoyed. "Why can't they just tell each other they like each other? And just like- I don't know. Make out?"

The group stared at Leo, Aprils' brows furrowed together. "I know Raph doesn't have the best ideas, but Leo. What the heck?"

"Well, what can WE do? It's not like Y/N is going to stop with Donnie. Do you think she enjoys arguing with him?" April was going to argue with Leo, before Raph stopped them. "Guys, why are they even arguing anyways? They totally like each other... I mean it's obvious." Mikey looked up to the ceiling for a while... "You hear anything, Mikey?" The youngest brother smiled, "Doctor Feelings has an idea." The others curious, soon began to listen in...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

💜 Donnie

He didn't expect himself to get along with someone like you! Especially since you were such an attractive girl in his eyes.

He liked how you listened to all of his rants about his new inventions. How you were so patient whenever he focused on his own things...

You were just perfect.

In fact, you bring him a moment of peace whenever you're around. It's one of the reasons he had a crush on you. But being dull as a brick; he couldn't recognize you felt the same way.

Which was why he was very confused on why you suddenly changed how you acted. Was it something to do with him?

Was he being weird?? Were you beginning to become bored of him and his inventions?

He needed answers.

It was only one question, he thought you'd respond with an answer he could understand.

But you reacted in a way, that he never expected.

"Why? You have a problem with how I act?"

"Well, no... but I'm confused what's with the sudden attitude."

"It's not like you'd understand."

"Excuse me?"

And that's how your bickering began.

If that's how you were going to act? Fine, he can play that game too.

He was just hurt forcing himself to argue with you, it was to protect his own feelings...

Under his stoic expression, was him overthinking.

Did you hate him?

Was what he said too harsh?

But his logical part of him always powered his emotions.

Well, she chose to start this.

I'm not going to let her treat me like that.

He over all just wanted to talk with you. He wanted things to return to how they were.

Can things please return to how it was?

While he was working on his own project alone, Mikey chose to invade his room.

"Heyy Donnie, You've been working pretty hard. Let's hang out! Y'know?"

Donnie, giving it some thought. He needed a distraction from you.

"Sure. Where you plan on taking us?"

"Oho, You'll see Don!"

He should've asked even further, but chose to trust his younger brother.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 💐

You were laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. It was getting bad again. The bad thoughts were taking over your head, and they just kept getting worse. Before things could got worse, you received a text by April. "Urghh..." You slowly rolled to your side. Lazily grabbing your phone opening the text.

<;( Y/N, want to get some pizza? We haven't had a girls' night in like forever! )

You thought to yourself for a while... Should you really go? You weren't feeling the best, but there was no food in the fridge.. You smiled to yourself. Beginning to type.

( Yeah. Why not? I don't have any food at all! LOL )>

April's and Mikey's plan was into the works, receiving the text from Mikey that Donnie was on the move. You and Donnie had no clue of you both having to talk out your problems.

You quickly went down the stairs of your apartment to see April. You could see she had a mischievous smile. "What's with the smile?" You poked her face a little, as she moved your hand away from her face. "Well, I'm... just excited to see you girl!" You were suspicious of what she was planning, but you shrugged it off. "Aww. How sweet." You both walked down the streets of New York, under the moonlight. You loved New York for the night sky. Even if the traffic makes it unbearable. It was dark, starry, and purple... Oh. Just like Donnie...

As you both arrived to the pizzeria, your eyes widened. Right in front of you... Was Mikey and Donnie. He was as confused and shocked as you were. "Come and sit down Y/N! We ordered your favorite!" Hesitant; April helped you sit down. You were sitting in front of Donnie, this wasn't good.

"Well... Y/N, how was your day?" He smiled taking a slice for himself. You gulped, stuttering a bit. "...I- it was fine." Donnie was getting irritated in this situation. You were clearly uncomfortable with him being around you. He should've seen his brothers and April plan a stunt like this from a mile away. If they planned on making you both talk, then fine. You were going to tell him why you were acting so weird.

"Mmm- D. You good-?"

"Why are you acting so weird whenever I'm around Y/N?"

You could feel your throat break, but you couldn't break now. "Are you still bothered by how I act, Don?" His sharpie-brows furrowed. "Yes, indeed I am. I just want things to go back to normal!" Mikey looked at Donnie, worried. "D-donnie calm do-"

"You're always concerned on whether or not I'm acting normal!"

"I am, NOT! You just chose to act like this all of a sudden, and I deserve an answer." He glared into your eyes.

"Well, why are you SO concerned then?! It's none of your business anyway!!"

"Y/N calm down-"

"Because I'm worried about you- It's as if, you don't care about me. As if you suddenly see me as a monster!"

"I- i don't see you as a monster Donnie-" "Then why? Why are you all of a sudden like this?!-" "Because I love you Donnie!! God fucking damn it!!" Your voice broke, as the table was filled with silence. Donnie was shocked to your answer.

God. Fucking. Damn. It...

You bit your bottom lip, as tears fell down your eyes. Looking at Donnie. Hurt. All of your insecurities attacking you at once, you ran.

"Y/N! Wait!" Donnie quickly stood up, watching as you ran.

You began to sob, running away from him.

Now he knows what a pathetic girl you are...

[ To be Continued... ]

#morilicious #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt 2018 #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise donnie

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luna-writes-stuff · 3 years ago

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INTRODUCTION

Go back to Starcrossed Losers masterlist

I know this is the boring part of the book, so I'm just gonna say this really quick:

First of all, thank you for reading this book and giving it a chance. Kudos to you!

Second of all, I wrote a few disclaimers down below. I know no one enjoys reading those and many skip over them and that's fine. I just wanted to be sure copyright was clearly noted in case Tolkien comes back from the dead to drag my soul six feet under for not giving him the proper rights for my writing.

Lastly: I used the time line in the books and not from the movies. If you really want to get into it and do the counting, certain ages will be wrong; for example: Smaug attacked Erebor 2770, but Thorin was born 2741, which would make him 29 at the time of the attack. Aka, a little boy, and not a grown adult as shown in the movies. The times aren't obviously wrong and you won't even notice it when you don't count the years back. I just wanted to say this before I'm getting comments about it from the people who really want to get into the story.

Further disclaimers (mainly copyright):

The OC in this book is called Raewyn. If you follow my blog a bit, you might know Raewyn is the name of the main character of my not yet published (original) fantasy book. This is not the same Raewyn. I wrote this fanfic to try to deepen myself into her character and figure out how to make her behave and speak. It has truly worked, but you must know these two are not the same character.

Credits to title idea of the story go to The Fratellis. They have a song called Starcrossed Losers. It’s not entirely like my own story, but it’s similar in a few aspects. I recommended listening to it.

Credits for storyline, existing characters, languages, planets, history and culture go to J.R.R Tolkien. In such are included:

-The basic Middle-Earth timeline

-Characters in canon such as Bilbo and Gandalf.

-Languages in canon like Sindarin and Khuzdul.

-Canon places (The Shire, Angmar, Erebor etc.)

Credit for my story line about the Ashas, non-canon characters, the Ashyr language and culture goes to me. Please do not use my ideas if you haven't gotten my permission. I spend a lot of time developing own stories, languages, characters and cultures and I wish for that to be respected.

Furthermore, this is a fanfic, which means not everything will be accurate. I try to make this as realistic as possible, but sometimes it's difficult to fit something in the story so I have to make things up. If you see something that doesn't make sense to you, feel free to comment it so I can explain.

I started writing this on Wattpad, hence the whole idea of chapters. It is not published on there yet, as I am waiting for the book to be completely finished first.

Criticism is always welcome, and I cannot stress this enough. My main language isn't English, and although I am nearly fluent, it doesn't mean it's flawless. If you see a spelling mistakes or a grammatical error, or you find that a sentence could be better constructed otherwise, please comment on it and tell me what I did wrong and how I can fix it. Do no comment things like "this isn't how it's spelled" because I do not know how to correct it. Tell me how it should be so I could alter it.

Always feel free to comment, like, reblog or whatever! It encourages me to write more, knowing that people enjoy it. I read lots of Tolkien fanfics where the readers comment and really get into the story. I love seeing that so don't be afraid to leave something!

#tolkien #the hobbit #starcrossed losers #fanfic #Kili durin #Fili #Fili durin #Thorin Oakenshield #the company of thorin oakenshield #Kili #Aidan turner #kili x oc #kili x reader #Kili X raewyn #raewyn asha #Kili imagine

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kurinoot · 4 years ago

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[day 1] one box of chocolates | tendou satori

-> you’ve been wanting to surprise your boyfriend with your own batch of chocolates and better yet, grace him with your presence this coming valentines. to your shock, you got more than what you thought it would be.

pairing: tendou x reader

themes: fluff, post-timeskip

word count: 2125 words

author’s note: I can’t believe I’m writing again! hahaha, and tendou being my first haikyuu character to create a fic uwu anyways, he was kinda hard to write on as he only got shots from seasons 3 and 4, so this may somehow seem ooc but please, I do accept constructive criticisms :) enjoy!

btw, I added a music in specific parts of the story so you can play them if you want so as to add some touches while you’re reading :)

"Ah, I hope the chocolates haven't melted yet!", you sigh tiredly with worry as you scramble your hand inside your carry-on bag, carefully checking your box of handmade chocolates as you make your way through the bustling Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. The almost 14-hour non-stop flight has definitely taken a toll on you and the jet lag is definitely not helping you either.

You finally feel the cold air kissing your skin as you drag your way out of the airport, gingerly carrying your baggage all the while ensuring that your handmade gift is in good hands. Apparently, you weren't informed that Paris in February would require you more layers of clothing than what the thin sweater you’re wearing could offer. With a rush, you immediately went to the nearest vacant taxi. You rattled your brain for some basic French, muttering a soft “Bonjour” as you pinpoint the driver to your phone, showing him your destination. After a while, you finally feel the weight of the jet lag in your body. You deeply sigh as you finally let yourself sink in the back seat of the taxi. The driver seemed to know something, if you fumbling with your words and the way you slumped on the back seat was a sign.

"Rough day, mademoiselle?", the driver asks you in English (to, at least, your surprise) with a rough French accent, smiling. You brighten up a bit despite the stress, "Uh yes, monsieur. Am I right? It's probably the jet lag, but yeah.".

"Don't worry, your basic French is good! So, what is a young mademoiselle doing here alone? And on Valentines’ Day?”

“Ah merci! I’m actually here to visit this chocolate shop.”, you reply with a bright smile as you pinpoint your phone to the said location once again. He grins, to your surprise.

“Ah yes! That shop is actually famous around these parts, especially this Valentines’ season. Although, the owner is quite weird and even creepy for most people from what I heard around here.”, he mentions, and despite getting accustomed to how most people see Satori, you felt your hand cusp into a fist as you gritted your teeth, seething in annoyance and preparing to fight back or even to get off the taxi.

“Yet despite the rumors, he’s a kind young man. Eccentric one, I admit, but he knows the chocolate fit for the customer. Hell, he even helped me pick for my wife!” The driver continues, chuckling at the memory.

You feel all the anger in you disappear, proud of your boyfriend, as it was somewhat kind of rare for you to hear good compliments about him, “That’s just probably how other people see him. I would say, he’s a tad too eccentric for most people. He’s kind and soft-hearted and cute if you get to know him beyond the surface.”, you reply languidly with proud eyes.

You saw his eyes glance at you, before looking back at the road.

Unknowingly, your smile didn’t falter at the memory of Satori. “In fact, the owner is my boyfriend! And I’m actually here to visit — or rather, surprise him today!”

The driver chuckled softly, “Figures. You were talking about the owner like he’s your lover, and,” He paused, his eyes gazed towards the photograph of a woman that you took notice of earlier. “I can say the same.” His voice became tender as he continued driving.

You have finally arrived at your boyfriend’s little happy place, much to your joy and excitement. You immediately paid the driver and thanked him for the ride (and for the conversation). As soon as you get out of the cab, the driver calls you out, rummages something from a compartment in his cab, and surprises you with a lush red rose, thankfully free of its prickly thorns.

"You somehow remind me of me and my wife when we were younger, and it's Valentines' Season and better yet, you're in the City of Love! So please, take this as a Valentines' souvenir, mademoiselle".

"Oh you didn't have to, monsieur!"

“Good luck with that boyfriend of yours, mademoiselle! Yer both lucky to have each other.”, he says, somehow inspired by how you defended Satori as he mutters an ‘ah, young love’ to himself afterwards as he waves before driving to his next destination. Despite the jet lag creeping in your system, you grasp the remaining energy you have to at least surprise your boyfriend with your presence in the spirit of Valentines' Day in the City of Love.

I can't believe I'm in Paris, and I'm seeing Satori's shop for the first time!, you thought as you giddily reached for the eccentric gold-gilded handle of the door, slowly opening the door to the shop. The instant scent of the cocoa hit right through your senses as your eyes ran across the various chocolates on display. Walking further, you were graced with the view of your beloved with his back on you, occupied with washing his tools to finish the day as he sways his hips to the rhythm of the song he’s humming so softly.

He stops humming as soon as he hears the chime of the door bell, "Je suis désolée, on est fermé. (I’m sorry, we’re closed)", you hear Satori with bits of his Japanese accent as he continued humming afterwards, clueless of who had entered his shop.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing a Valentines' special with my boyfriend.", you replied teasingly, emphasizing the word boyfriend, which left the budding chocolatier a bit frozen in shock as he turned to your direction with wide eyes before shifting to a smirk as he leans on the countertop, narrowing his eyes towards you as an “Oh, what do we have here?” leaves his mouth.

“My Sugar!”, he nearly screamed, seeing you as he dropped everything he’s doing and rushed to hug you tightly, not caring about his wet hands.

You lovingly welcome his arms as you hug him back tightly, soaking in his presence after being separated for so long.

“I missed you so much, Satori!”, you pout as you felt him tightening his embrace, as you savored his warmth after a long flight, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. You gasp a little bit as he gently caresses your hair, maximizing his hug with you to finally see, touch, and feel you in person.

You felt Satori loosen his arms, as you immediately replaced with the warmth of the Parisian cold, much to your disappointment. Without you knowing, Satori sees even the slightest of your body trembling from the current weather and rushes back in the kitchen to grab his Shiratorizawa jacket, much to your surprise. He then returns to you, gracefully sliding the jacket over your shoulders.

You pout at him with a prominent blush on your plump cheeks, “Thank you, Satori”, to which he replies with another hug much tighter compared to the one a few minutes ago.

“I love, love, LOVE you so much, my chocolate ice cream!”, he exclaimes as you were suddenly smothered with a couple of pecks — light kisses on your head. You snuggled closer to his chest, eagerly smelling his sweet scent of chocolate that suddenly reminded you of your handmade chocolate that you’ve left unattended for hours. You quickly scramble away from the contact, much to your endearing boyfriend’s curiosity, to see if the chocolate has withstood not only the long flight, but also Satori’s warm, tight hugs. Luckily, the red cardboard box was sturdy enough and only had a couple dents — making you sigh in relief. As soon as you pull out the box, you see your boyfriend narrowing his eyes to the direction of the box with peaked curiosity.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Satori teases, pulling off a smirk, eyes still on the box as he receives it. He gave it a little shake, that made you giggle as he playfully tried to guess what was inside. Although you could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment with each second passing. You look away in embarrassment as you watch him. He looks at you with piqued interest, wondering what has gotten you a bit tad embarrassed, if the pink in your cheeks were even a telltale sign.

You anxiously mumbled, “W-Well, I mean, my boyfriend probably makes the best chocolate in the world, so it k-kinda sucks that the only Valentines’ gift I can give you is a box of chocolates that I have made—”, you got cut off as you see and hear your boyfriend already popping one of the chocolates in his mouth, much to your chagrin. To your surprise, he kept popping more and more of the chocolates, savoring each delight.

“Waif, lemme geth sum hot milk.” he says, with his mouth full of your handmade chocolates as he scrambles back to the kitchen, heating up some milk. As you wait for him, you notice a gramophone on the countertop with a vinyl record already in place, with Edith Piaf written on on the center portion in black marker, which you found cute as you imagined Satori listening to Edith Piaf while doing his daily chocolate-making routine. You try to play the music and much to your delight, your head gently swayed to the song, and eventually your body. Immediately after the song has started, your body has already succumbed to the rhythm of the music that you didn’t notice Satori returning with two mugs of hot milk. He grins, enjoying the view of you dancing to French music as he places the mugs down on the counter. He slowly sways as he walks up to you, his hands snaking around your waist from your back as your bodies swing leisurely to the rhythm, much to your surprise yet you quickly relax as you lean back on him, holding his hands around your waist.

Never in your wildest dreams have you imagined that the Satori Tendou, your boyfriend, the oddball, would be dancing with you like this, alone in his chocolate shop under the moonlight on Valentines’ Day in the City of Love. It was too much for your heart to handle, and probably for his heart, too.

You dance for a couple more minutes until the song slowly fades. He then relishes the way he holds you, albeit the music has already finished. You both savor each other’s presence a few more, before Satori then gets the mugs of hot milk, not wanting to waste the good heat on a cold Parisian night. You gladly accept the milk with one hand, as you grasp his jacket with the other, not wanting to feel even the slightest cold breeze. Your boyfriend then leads you to a seat on the counter, sitting next to you as he prepares his mug and your box of chocolates, now with only a few pieces.

“I never thought you would actually go here in Paris”, he starts, as he pops another one of your chocolate in his mouth, followed by gulping down his warm milk.

“I never thought I would actually go here, but I’m grateful that I did, because this is the best Valentines’ Day I’ve ever had!”, you beam as you hold your mug with both hands, relishing the warmth as you drink down your milk.

Tendou then takes note of your chocolates, “You know, I was thinking of adding your chocolates to the menu, and credit you also. Probably name it Le Chocolat Y/N Au Lait Special or something!” You smiled and held a hand on your chest, feeling how warm it suddenly felt.

“Satori, I’d love to.”, you replied, to which his smile grew bright that could burst your heart to how cute he is.

Your beloved continues to chew and drink, looking around when he notices the fresh red rose from earlier sitting atop of your luggage. You follow his line of sight, immediately seeing the lone rose. You finish drinking your milk before you tell him enthusiastically, “Ah! That was given by the taxi driver that drove me earlier. Said that we somehow reminded him of him and his wife on Valentine's Day in the City of Love in this same shop, so he gave me one.”, imitating the way your driver said City of Love. Much to your shock, Satori sardonically laughs, saying it was a tad bit too French, at least for his taste.

While finishing the last remnants of your warm milk, he then goes to the nearby gramophone and plays another Edith Piaf classic. You glance at him with curiosity as he looks at you smugly, stretching out his hand as he invites you to another dance.

“So, where were we?”

back to valentines masterlist

#tina.writes #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #tendō satori #tendou x reader #valentines #haikyuu valentines #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #14 days of valentine

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aces-to-apples · 4 years ago

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Your Reputation Precedes You

A response to “On Fandom Racism (and That Conlang People Are Talking About)” because lmao that cowardly bitch just hates getting feedback from people that she can’t then harass into oblivion

i.e. God I Wish I Could Use The Tag Fandom Wank Without The Titty Police Nerfing My Post

To be frank, I'm not here because I think you or any of your little cronies are going to change your minds. If the 'name' wasn't a giveaway, your group of ~likeminded individuals~ have quite the reputation for espousing ableist, antisemitic, and, yes, racist views under wafer-thin the veneer of "calling out racism." I think we both know that what you're actually doing is using the relative anonymity of the internet and progressive language to abuse, harass, and bully fans that you personally disagree with. You and your group are toxic, hateful, and utterly pathetic, using many peoples' genuine desire to avoid accidentally causing harm and twisting it into this horrid parade of submissiveness to You, The One And Only Arbiter Of Truth And Justice In Fandom. Never mind that you have derided autistic people as lacking compassion and empathy, that you've used racist colonizer dogwhistles to describe a fictional culture based heavily on real live Maori culture, that you've mocked the idea of characters having PTSD, or that vital mental health services are anything more than "talking about your feelings with friends uwu." Let's just ignore that you have ridiculed the idea of adults in positions of power exerting that power over children in harmful and abusive ways, that creating transformative fan-content that doesn't adhere to the spirit of canon or wishes of the original author garners derision and hatefulness from you, and that you've used classic abuser tactics in order to gaslight people in your orbit into behaving more submissively towards you in order to avoid more verbal abuse.

Let's toss all of that crucial context aside in favor of only what you've written here.

What you've written here is nearly 3,000 entire words based on, at best—though, admittedly, based on your previous behavior, I am actually not willing to extend to you an iota of good faith—fallacious reasoning. You posit that a constructed language, to be used by a fictional religious group located in an entirely different galaxy than our own, is othering, racist in general, and anti-Asian specifically. This appears based in several suppositions, the first being that a language unknown by the reader will, by nature, cause the reader to feel alienated from the characters and therefore less sympathetic, empathetic, and caring towards the characters. That idea is patently ridiculous and, I believe, says far more about your ability to connect to a character speaking an unfamiliar language than any kind of overarching truth about media and the human condition. New things are interesting; new things are fun; the human brain is wired from birth to be fascinated with new things, to want to take them apart, find out how they work, and enjoy both the process and the results.

The second supposition this fallacy is based upon appears to be that to move away from the blatant Orientalism of Star Wars is inherently anti-Asian. While I find it... frankly, a little bit sad that you cling so viciously to the Orientalist, appropriative roots of Star Wars as some form of genuine representation, that's really none of my business. If you feel that a Muslim-coded character bombing a temple and becoming a terrorist and a Sith, a white woman wearing Mongolian wedding garb, a species of decadent slug-like gangsters smoking out of hookahs and keeping attractive young women chained at their feet (as it were), a species of greedy money-grubbers with exaggerated features and offensively stereotypical "Asian" accents, and an indigenous people wearing modesty garb based on the Bedu people and treated by most characters as well as the narrative as mindless animals deserving of murder and genocide are appropriate representation of the many, varied, and beautiful cultures around the world upon which they were "based," then that is very much your business. Until you pull shit like this. Until you accuse other fans, who wish to move away from such offensive coding and stereotypes, of erasing Asian culture from Star Wars. Then it becomes everyone's business, especially when you are targeting a loving and enthusiastic group of fans who are pouring their hearts and souls into creating an inventive and non-appropriative alternative to canon.

Which leads into the third supposition, that a patently racist, misogynistic white man in the 1970s, and then again in the 1990s, intended his universe to be an accurate and respectful portrayal of the various cultures he stole from. I understand that for your group of toxic bullies, the term "Death of the Author" holds no real meaning, but the simple fact of the matter is that George Lucas based his white-centered space adventure on Samurai movies while removing the cultural context that gave them any meaning, because he liked the idea of swords and noble warriors in space. He based the Force and the Jedi Order on belief systems such as Taoism and Buddhism, but only on the surface, without putting any real effort into into portraying them earnestly or accurately. He consistently disrespected both characters of color and characters coded to be a certain race, ethnicity, culture, or religion, and likewise disrespected and stole from the cultures upon which he based them. He was, and continues to be, a racist white man who wrote a racist story. His universe has Orientalism baked into its every facet, and the idea that fans who wish to move away from this and interrogate and transform the text into something better than what it is are racist is not only laughable, but incredibly disingenuous and insidious.

As I said, I am not writing this to change your mind, because I truly believe that you already know that "cOnLaNgS aRe RaCiSt" is a ridiculous statement. The way you've comported yourself in fandom spaces thus far has shown to me that you are nothing more than a bully who knows that the anti-racist movement in fandom can be co-opted for your benefit. If you tout your Asian heritage and use the right language, make the "right" accusations and take advantage of white guilt and white ignorance, you can have dozens of people falling at your feet, begging for forgiveness, for absolution. And I think that gives you a thrill. So, no, none of this will change your mind because none of this is genuinely about racism—it's about power, it's about control, it's about fandom being the only space where you have some.

So I'm writing this for the creators of this wonderful conlang, which has been crafted by multiple people including people of color, who don't deserve this nonsensical vitriol, and for the fans reading this manipulative hate-fest, wondering if they really are Evil Racists because they don't participate in fandom the way you think they should.

Here it is: fandom has a lot of racism, antisemitism, misogyny, queerphobia, ableism, etc. baked into it. Unfortunately, such is the nature of living and growing up in societies and cultures that have the same. The important thing is to independently educate yourself on those issues and think critically about them—not "think critically" as in "to criticize" them, but to analyze, evaluate, pick apart, examine, and reconstruct them again in order to come to a well thought-out conclusion. Read this well-articulated attack on a group of fans who have always welcomed feedback and participation, are open about their backgrounds, their strengths and weaknesses, and wonder who is actually being genuine.

Is it the open and enthusiastic group who ask for the participation of others in this labor of love? Or is it the ringleader of a group of well-known bullies who have manipulated, gaslit, and then subsequently love-bomb people who did not simply roll over at the slightest hint of dominance? The ones who spent hours upon hours tearing apart, mocking, deriding, and falsely accusing authors of fanworks and metatextual works of various bigotries and -isms, knowing that those evaluations were spurious and meant only to cause harm, not genuine examinations of the works themselves or even presumed authorial intent. The ones who made their own, quote-unquote, community so negative and toxic that even after the departure of a large portion of them, including this author in particular, that community still has a reputation for being hateful, toxic, and full of mean-spirited harassers who will never look critically about their own behavior but only ever point fingers at others. The ones who are so very determined to cause misery wherever they go that as soon as their usual victims are no longer immediately available, they will turn on each other at the slightest hint of weakness.

This entire piece of (fan)work is misinformed at the most generous, disingenuous at the most objective, and downright spiteful when we get right into it. The creators of Dai Bendu, along with various other works, series, and fan events that these people personally dislike, have been targeted because it is so much easier to harass, bully, and use progressive language as a weapon against them, than it is to put any effort into making fandom spaces more informed, more positive, more respectful.

As someone rather eloquently put it, community is not a fucking spectator sport. You want a better community, you gotta work at it. And conversely, what you put into your community is what you'll get out of it. This author and their friends have put a lot of hate into their communities, and now they're toxic cesspools that people stay well away from, for fear of contracting some terrible form of harassment poisoning.

Congrats, Ri, you've gotten just what you wanted: adoring crowds listening to you spout your absolutely heinous personal views purely to live out some kind of power fantasy, and the rest of us staying well away, because fuck knows nothing kind, helpful, or in good faith has ever come from Virdant or her echo-chamber of petty, spiteful assholes.

No love, bad night.

P.S. Everyone actually in the Dai Bendu server knows your ass got kicked because you didn’t say shit for a full thirty days and ignored the announcement that inactive members would be culled. You ain’t cute pretending like it’s because you were ~*~Silenced~*~ after ~*~Valiantly~*~ attempting to call out racism. We see you.

#fandom bullshit #fandom racism #fandom harassment #fandom ableism #fandom antisemitism #fandom misogyny #by apples

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keepitcloseandmeaning · 4 years ago

Text

- Sticky Situation -

💗 Kinktober Day 1 - Mutual Masterbation 💗

Keiji Akaashi x Fem! Reader (Smut)

Word count: 2k

Summary: Your boyfriend Akaashi has been working nonstop all week leaving you pent up and heated. You decide that today you're going to release this tension, and he's going to help you do it.

Akaashi was called to the office for the fifth time this week to overlook the design of a new magazine, which meant there was little to no alone time between the both of you. Even with those two short days off, his workload would pile over so much that he often had to bring it home with him.

To say you were sick and tired of the attention you were being denied would be an understatement.

You wouldn't blame him or hold it against him though. Your boyfriend worked hard for his career and it paid off greatly. He was a skilled editor for a famous manga magazine. Every booklet they released was far beyond well written and illustrated, so why were you so discontent currently?

Akaashi had done nothing wrong, and if anything, he just continued to raise the bar, so, why were you currently laying in your bed with a dull ache? Why were you face first in Akaashi's pillow guilty soaking up his scent, hoping he'd magically appear?

Why were you imagining his big rough hands grabbing you and tearing you down, just to lift you into highs unknown? You groaned. This just wouldn't do.

Akaashi was crammed at work. Practically running while telling people what they needed to fix and how, while somehow also trying to find time to come up with story ideas and calendars.

His days weren't always jampacked. He had calming days where he could just sit in his office and enjoy his coffee while brainstorming. Sadly today was just not one of those days. After making his rounds of constructive criticism, he could finally sit and unwind for a second before continuing with his task at hand; writing. Literature had always been something he admired since he was a child, though currently, he wished he'd picked a different branch. Days at the office were always ruthless when a deadline was nearing, but recently things have just gotten out of hand.

As Akaashi sat his 'bestest friend' mug down, as he let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple. What he wouldn't do to just be back in his bed curled up under the blankets with you. Your head on his chest as he played with your just-woken-up locks. Maybe a few pecks here and there. A few touches, maybe bites or licks. Fingers traveling lower; teasing. Groaning, Akaashi released his head. 'How unprofessional' he'd thought to himself. He couldn't be thinking such unholy thoughts at work, he still had assignments to finish.

Nonetheless, his brain wouldn't stop thinking about all the ways he could take you. So far it favored forgetting all about his stories and instead, ramming you against his desk. Your ass high in the air, bright and pink from his hand. Your hair in between his fingers, pulling you closer to him. Your mouth yelling out his name and some incoherent syllables he couldn't place.

"Fuck," he said. Taking off his glasses, he let his head fall into his hands. Now's not the time, he repeated in his head. He had to calm down. He had responsibilities. Once he felt like his brain had cooled, he attempted to continue on his work. That is, until he got a call.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he looked at the caller ID and picture. It was you. 'What perfect timing,' he thought as he slid the answer button. "Baby," you breathily released, "baby I need you."

Akaashi's own breath hitched, hearing your tone. Despite his shock he replied, "Ah ah ah, you know I'm in the office, we can't do this now." Across the line he could hear your heavy pants as a whine was released from his words.

"Akaashi, baby, please, please I need you. I need you so bad right now." You had pleaded back. Akaashi didn't know what had gotten into him. Your voice was like a siren call and his hormones couldn't handle it. His navy blue slacks tightened around his groin and he quickly covered it with his non-busy hand. "Mmph now look at you. You got us both pent up. What do you want me to do about this? About you?" You released a sigh, the fingers circling your clit continuing their slow path. "Help me Akaashi, please." His dark chuckle didn't help the warmth deep in your stomach.

Leaning back further in his office chair, Akaashi tilted his head to his shoulder, holding his phone in place. Beginning to release his belt he said, "Awe, I know you can come up with something better than that. Tell me truthfully, what would you like me to do?" You swore you could hear the smirk in his voice. He was teasing you.

"Please Akaashi, anything. Tell me what to do, what to touch, what to say, anything please." You whined. He in return released another dark chuckle as he dragged the zipper to his pants down. "Ah that's more like it, that's my good girl. Where are your hands now?" "Th-they're on me," you replied.

Looking down at the bulge in his briefs he rose a brow and commented back, "Baby girl if you want me to help you, you have to be more descriptive. You know the rules." Across the screen you nodded and gulped, even though you knew he wouldn't see it. You also knew that he was telling the truth. If you didn't listen to him he wouldn't oblige you in any way; he'd leave you hanging.

"Okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry. There's o-one on my chest and the other is...is.." You didn't think you could continue. Your face was far beyond burnt by the blood rushing to it. Your heart was hammering in your ears. It wasn't like you and Akaashi had never done anything sexual before, you have. A plethora of times, but nothing like this.

"Is where? Tell me Y/n, where is that slutty little hand of yours at?" Akaashi huskily asked across the line. A whine slipped out of your lips as your thighs clenched against your hand.

"My clit. It's-it's on my clit," you breathed out. In return Akaashi let out a groan as his hand gently rubbed his bulge through his briefs. "Good girl. How fast are you rubbing it, hmm?" He questioned.

"S-slow. I'm going slow," you answered back a bit too quickly. Akaashi could sense your need through the line. The way your seemingly quiet breaths came out in puffs in his ear, the urgency in your voice. He had you wrapped around his finger. "Mm go faster and don't stop until I tell you to. You hear me?" A breathy moan was let out from your end, "Yes whatever you say."

You did as your boyfriend told you to, your moans steadily increasing in volume as your fingers increased in speed. Pleased with your sounds, Akaashi let a hand slip under the band of his briefs, stroking himself gently. "Ahh that's my good girl. Tell me how good it feels," he groaned out. Between one of your moans you let out, "G-good, so good Akaashi."

Akaashi let his head fall back on his chair as his eyes closed. He imagined what you looked like, sprawled on your shared bed. Your wetness sticking to your thighs and fingers. He groaned quietly into the air as his cock throbbed at the thought. Pumping it a bit faster he uttered, "Mmm good. Finger yourself baby girl. Pretend I'm there."

In response, your fingers traveled lower towards your hole and you couldn't stop picturing your boyfriend towering over you. His big calloused fingers circling around you until they plunged deep inside your wet cunt.

You cried out as your fingers did just as your imagination implied. Although your fingers weren't as orgasm inducing as his, they did the job. "Oh fuck, Akaashi. God it feels so good," you vocalized. Letting his briefs fall, Akaashi fully released his cock as precum dribbled down it in small streams. He had to bite his lip in order to not let a groan out from the pleasure he was feeling and the waves of pleasure he was getting from your sounds alone.

His hand squeezed his cock as he pumped it faster, "Fuck Y/n. You make me feel so fucking good. Squeeze those pretty tits for me baby." You let your phone fall between your head and shoulder as an eager hand grabbed at one of your nipples, pinching and pulling it. A string of moans and curses left your lips as you continued to please yourself. Your mind wouldn't tear from Akaashi, wishing you had more than just his voice to work with.

To have him ramming into like you both wish he was. The veins in cock rubbing against your walls just right, pushing against that perfect spot. "Akaashi can I go faster, please? Please can you let me go faster?" You pleaded to him because holy shit were you already so close. You weren't expecting to have been so close already, but with the heat you had been carrying all day combined with your boyfriend's sultry voice, you couldn't control yourself.

He let out a mix of both a moan and chuckle as he remarked, "Mm someone's eager today. Can my naughty girl last a bit longer at this speed, hm? Can you do that for me?" Your head rolled back on your pillow as you bit your lip. Of course he wouldn't let you, he's never been that generous. So for his sake and yours you continued with the speed you had set for yourself. Not fast enough to make you cum immediately, but not slow enough that it was no longer pleasurable.

You wanted--no, needed more. A mix between a whine and mewl left your lips as you gripped your breast roughly. "Ak-kaashi please, please I'm so close for you," you pleaded again, hoping this time it'd do the trick. Sighing from the pressure building in his lower abdomen, Akaashi's hand began to get sloppy in the way it stroked him. "You little slut, cum for me. Move those hands as fast as they can go and cum for me," he stated roughly, his own high closing in.

His dark command pushed you to move your hands in the way you wanted. The hand squeezing your breast traveled to your clit to help push you closer to your peak. The fingers within you curled, twisted, pumped into you as fast as you could manage. "Fuck! Fuck Akaashi ahh. God it feels so good," you slurred as pleasure continued to build quicker in you.

Your moans rung through the speaker of his phone and into his ear. Akaashi soaked up every one of them, letting them propel him to pump his cock even faster. His hips began to meet his hand in sloppy thrusts, pushing him over. "Y/n ahhh fuck. You're such a good girl--good girl. Cum for me baby. Cum for me. Cum all over those slutty little fingers baby."

After he was sure you both had caught your breath he stated, "Prepare to get punished when I get home. The next time you pull something like this while I'm at work I won't even think about going easy on you." With that, he hung up and looked at the mess you had caused him to create. He huffed as he began cleaning up. Later that night, he was going to teach you not to interrupt him at work, and he wouldn't let up until he was sure you knew.

Your high came in like a blast of hot summer air. Warmth wrapped around you as your fingers continued to work on your eager cunt. Your back arching and toes curling as you came on your fingers and screamed Akaashi's name. Akaashi wasn't too far behind, his hand almost crushing his cock as it spurted out his hot seed. His breath hitched as he tried to catch his breath, muttering your name and profanities as his high came toppling to a close.

- End

A/N: Hi hi readers ! I hope you enjoyed this first kinktober entry ! I can't wait to write more for you guys!

- 💗

#💗#keepitclose #my writing #haikyuu #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi keji x reader #smut #fanfic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kinktober 2020 #kinktober #drabble #babygirl #wow this was super long

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years ago

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson- Chapter 7: Non-Productive Time

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: On a slow afternoon, Shane remembers a couple of fun evenings with Sy, and can’t help but start texting him…he turns out to be a bad influence.

Don’t want spoilers? Click me first to catch up!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, a steamy scene that bumps up against the line of smut/not smut…it looks like smuttish is, in fact, a thing, (see what I did there? Toss a high five to your fic writer for the paraphrased Witcher quote in these here notes! lol! Sorry, i’m tired...and in a weird mood tonight...) so, anyway, using that. I love it.

Author’s Note: This chapter was about half done before I even started SI1 and SI2! So that’s why it’s come along so quickly in the wake of them. It could also mean that there are some continuity issues…I found a couple during the re-write of the first part, and more when I was proofing, so it should be good, but…fair warning, one or more could have escaped me! Also, let me know if the text convo is hard to follow. I’ll try to reconfigure it to be more clear. It seemed to me like context was enough, and they’d had text convos before, and no one said anything…this one’s longer by about 300%, though, so…feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

Time seemed to pass slowly when Shane wasn’t with Sy. When they weren’t having dinner together, or doing their typical date thing. She thought about their second date. One of the bars in town, chosen for its above average bar food but mostly, it’s pool tables. The warning he’d given her via text had made her laugh:

We’re goin’ to Cade’s for apps and pool, if that's okay. As gorgeous as you looked in that blue dress you wore last night, I recommend jeans and a T-shirt for tonight, okay?

She took his suggestion. A simple black tee, because she was a food klutz from hell, layered over a red camisole, and her favorite jeans. It showed off her dainty arrow necklace well.

While they played, they drank beer and talked about life, getting deeper into things than they could at therapy sessions.

“Dad split when I was about ten, I guess. Mom did her best with her only son, but she sent me to my grandpa’s a lot when she was working or just…needing her own time. He’d been an army man. Fought in Korea. His dad was in World War II. It felt like…I don’t know, this pull, like I was meant to join up.”

“Destiny?” She asked. A dreamy tone overtook him when he talked about his family and his now former career.

“I guess. Never though too much of all that before.”

They smiled at one another. Knowing.

“What was he like? Your grandpa?”

“Oh, Pap was the best. He was a mechanic in the service and so he could get anything hummin, ya know? We fixed up and built motors for all kinds a’ shit. My first car was a ‘67 Shelby Mustang with the fast back all because when I was about 14, he found most of one at a salvage yard and basically rescued it from the crusher. Got it for about nothin’. For two years we collected parts and did body work on that thing. And by the time I turned sixteen, it was the most beautiful, show-ready Kerry green machine you ever seen.”

“One of my favorite cars! I’d love to see pictures!”

“I’ve still got ‘er.” He grinned. “When Pap died, it got…hard for me to drive her, ya know? So…special occasions only now. And he left me his truck, which he’d just bought brand new while I was on my first tour. That F150 crew cab we came here in, with all the bells 'n whistles. I couldn’t let such a fine automobile go to waste.” He grinned.

“You’re such a gear head.” She chuckled.

“Hey, you may be glad about that when you need somebody to get your own motor humming.” He teased back at her, bending over the table to take his shot and sinking it deftly. He said they would only play for fun, but he was still winning this round…which she didn’t think was that fun.

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“The shot, or the innuendo?” He asked to clarify.

“Yes.” They laughed. He eventually did miss, making it her turn.

"Ya know, I'm disappointed in this date, Shane." He baited.

"How come?" she asked, a bit hurt.

"A guy only asks a girl to play pool with him so he can show her how to shoot…and you already know."

It was true. She'd played a lot growing up and even a bit as she got older. She and her siblings loved billiards. Her whole family, really. And although she was no professional, she wasn't half bad for an amateur.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, sizing up the table for her next shot, but knowing with a fair amount of certainty what he was implying.

"You know. I wanted to get all close to ya. Show ya how to grip that cue in your hand. How to stand, bent at the hip, where to eyeball your shot from." he smiled. "All that shit ya see in movies that makes the girl all nervous and excited that the guy's touchin' on her. Pressed up against her."

Shane grinned, picked up the small, blue cube of chalk and rolled the concave side over the tip of her cue…she had no need to do so, most people didn't, really…but she made herself look really sexy doing it and asked Sy, "Is that right? Well, I guess you'll have to find another way to get your cheap thrills, because this girl has been known to run a table." She bent over the green felt seductively, the angle at which she did so displaying her décolletage in his direction just enough to tantalize him into licking his lips. She took her shot at the 10 ball, but sunk the 8 instead, losing her the game…damn. She shouldn't have gotten cocky.

"Run it where, sunshine? Into the ground? Off a cliff?" he laughed as she stomped over and began to poke him mercilessly in the ribs.

"Come on, Minnesota Fats. Let's pay the tab and find something a little cozier to do."

"Oka--wait, did you just call me fat?" he was incredulous. She laughed.

"Oh my God, you thought YOU were gonna teach ME about billiards…Minnesota Fats is like the most famous pool player of ever. I am not calling you fat."

"You messin' with me?" he squinted.

"Sy, google it. I promise. I would never call you fat. You're… my sexy man bear."

"Technically a bear is a fat animal." he sulked.

"Why don't you tell that to one when it's chasing you down to make a meal of ya!" Shane laughed. "Come on. Remember? I think I mentioned something about… finding another way for you to get cheap thrills. Lets explore that, shall we?" she whispered into his ear. He dropped some bills on their table nearby to more than cover their food and beer, and they hauled ass into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had definitely been exploring. In the two weeks since they'd been given the green light to see each other outside of therapy--the day Sy basically handed Shane's boss her own ass--they'd spent most evenings with each other, unless Shane had a particularly late evening at work or an early day the next day. A few nights, they had been together so late, that just staying over seemed the most reasonable option. But they had both agreed to take things slowly with the physical stuff. It had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and given their patient/therapist situation, waiting a while for the sex had seemed like a good idea…on paper. On the sofa had been a different story.

One day last week, she'd had to make an early night of things, and stood up from his couch, but was pulled back down to straddle his lap.

"Hold on a minute, sunshine. Why don't you gimme a proper goodbye before ya go, hmm?" he held her so close to him at every curve of their bodies, like the pieces of a puzzle snapping flush together. His kisses were deep and agonizing, his beard gently brushing her mouth, teasing her with its uncommon softness. She returned the ardor, squeezing him in every way she could.

She couldn't contain the desire pooling at her center, especially when he clearly couldn't contain his, either, straining against his shorts, pressing against her so deliciously, right where she needed him. She didn't hold back. And he was nothing if not encouraging to her endeavor.

"That feels so good, baby. You're so warm. Mmm." he whispered as he nipped at her ear and bit at her neck. She hadn't intended to, but she felt herself slipping over the edge, into pure euphoria and gripped at his hair, still rather short, though growing out from the mandated buzz. The length made him even more sensitive and when she ran her hands up his neck and over the back of his head, the result was like an electric current straight to his manhood. His body tensed as his release followed hers seconds later.

"Fuck." he said. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" she was truly confused.

"For losin' it like a teenager." he sighed and laid his head against the back of his couch in surrender…an unfamiliar sight, Shane was certain.

"Don't worry about it. I mean…it's not quite how I pictured our first time, but--"

"Oh, hell no. This doesn't count as a TIME, sunshine. This is batting practice. A warm up.”

"Ooh, you and your baseball references again. I told you, I need to leave, Sy. You can't get me worked up with that kinda dirty talk." she kissed his cheek, and stood. "Walk me out?"

He did. And they stood holding one another in the dark, leaned up against her Explorer, Sy's back against the door, Shane's cheek on his bare, hairy chest, and the turning of the earth all but forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had to stop thinking about him. About their dates and the time they'd spent together. But her schedule had fallen apart for the day due to a nasty storm that had blown in, she had no more education to work on for now, and she could only clean and organize her treatment room and desk so thoroughly.

She guessed…the secretaries knew she was available if need be…and she was salaried…what was the harm in texting Sy? She'd stayed late and came in early and overworked herself in general so much for this clinic. She could justify a bit of downtime.

Hey! Whatcha doin?

Just did some exercises that my super hot PT gave me! *winky face emoji*

Uh-Oh, should I be jealous?

Mmm, hard to say, sunshine. I guess it'll depend on which one of you sleeps with me first. *devil emoji*

Smart money is on the one who’s already let you get to second base…and basically third, even though…does it count if it’s basically because of a dare. Induced by Jack Daniels?

I think it counts if you came…*smirk emoji*

Damn those skilled fingers and Tennessee whiskey.

What can I say. I told ya I knew how to get a motor humming. *cool guy emoji*

You certainly do. No doubt about that.

So how's your day goin', sunshine?

Eh, everyone's cancelled on me. I have no one until 4:00, and I have nothing to do until then. I've decided to see it as a blessing and text my favorite fella.

And when he didn't respond, you resorted to me? *smirk emoji*

Hey you know that you have no competition for my affection other than like, my dad…and Chris Evans. Lol

Your dad, I'm sure I couldn't compete with if I tried, from what you've told me. Chris…well, I'm a REAL captain, not some guy jumpin' around in tights.

Mmmm, shame. I bet you'd look good in a getup like that. *heart eyes emoji*

You think so?

Yup! *American flag emoji*

You wanna be my Black Widow?

I mean…I've already basically got a costume…*embarrassed monkey emoji*

*several lines of big eye emojis*

Yeah, a few Halloweens ago…I was Romanoff. Now you know. I'm a total nerd.

I'm a nerd, too, sunshine. Serious nerd.

How am I just finding out about this? There's next to no merch at your place, and you never wear typical nerd shirts…*skeptical face emoji*

You haven't seen my whole place…*wink emoji*

What, are you telling me you have Batman bedsheets? *lol emoji*

Oh, it's much…much worse than that. The bedroom is pretty neutral, but…I have a…kind of rec room in the basement that is basically nerd central.

Oh. Em. Gee. I can't WAIT to see that, Sy!!! And how dare you hold out on me!!!

Well, I mean, I didn't wanna lay out all my cards right off the bat. I'm playing the long game.

Ah, so, when do I get to see this nerd trap?

Come on over, sunshine. *smiley face*

I said, I've got a patient at 4:00.

Everyone's cancelled on you. Can't you cancel on them for once?

Not unless I'm violently ill do I ever have any patients cancelled on my behalf.

So…say you're violently ill and come see me. *shrugging man emoji*

I dunno, Sy…

I got stuff to make that soup you like…

She had made it clear to him how much she loved soup, especially a good creamy potato soup, and on one of their dates, he'd had her over and there was a big pot of the stuff on his stove, made from scratch. She'd never had better, and he almost got lucky that night…and I mean…he still got a little lucky. He cooked for her AND cleaned up, AND let her pick the movie that night. She still picked an action movie, because she wasn't really a romance movie type, overall. Even so. Could she leave him hanging?

She opened her thread with Heather in her messenger app on her laptop.

Heather, is there anyone who could take my last patient, Mr. Lopez?

Looks like Cheri has a cancel around that time. Need me to move him?

If you could. I'm not feeling well.

Are you pregnant?

Omg, every fucking time. Why when anything is amiss in a woman's life must it be pregnancy?! And why is it okay to ask that question?! Ugh! She loved Heather like a sister, and it probably was just a joke, but uuuuuugh!

Yes…yes I am. *eye roll emoji* I've got a killer headache that's making me queasy. I'll email Susan. Thanks.

You bet. Tell Sy I said hi. *wink emoji*

Shut up.

After a quick and concise email to her boss, she picked her phone back up. One unread message.

You there, sunshine?

She simply replied,

Get that soup ready, Captain, I'm on my way.

Up Next: Chapter Eight: Heat/Ice

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #smuttish #not full on smut

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years ago

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 10: Ruin

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 10. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 9 'Planned'. Darkness was all Hiccup knew during those first three months. Darkness and daily defeat. Ruin was his way back into the light.

Warning: Rape/non-con

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 356

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Poisoned”, “Food deprivation”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: After posting Day 'Planned', I decided to hold off on posting Days 10 and 11 until I finished Day 12, which still had such a long way to go. It still does, but I have since split Day 12 into two parts and part 1 is finished. So it felt right to post Day 10.

I think that this thing is the darkest fic I've written to date, the final chapter in Hiccup's story left unexplored. There is still plenty left, but those won't be from his perspective. ;D

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are we not as lively today as we usually are, Hiccup?" One afternoon in late August, this is the question Viggo asks. His gaze is indifferent, if slightly pleased, as it lingers on the young man sitting opposite to him at a table.

Hiccup looks a little lost as he sits there with him, a barely played chessboard between the two. He's hunched, appearing small, and tired. He's lost weight, but he's not as thin as he was a week ago, when he first left the downstairs area of the Grimborn home, the basement.

When a question is asked of him, he looks back at Viggo and realizes it's been a few minutes since he's made his move on the board. And yet, the older man isn't wondering why Hiccup is taking so long, knowing well enough what the cause for his downtrodden mood is.

He's feeling a little down, a little fatigued. It's not too crazy after what he's been through, after what he's survived and gotten out of. if anything, Viggo is pleased to see him this way. He's never liked Hiccup's 'loudness' from before, though others would argue that Hiccup isn't loud at all. Not in the way Viggo thinks.

"Um, I'm sorry, I'm..." Hiccup apologizes, but he's unsure what he wants to say. He hasn't just been spacing out during their game, he's been doing so throughout the day and during previous days, too.

Does it have something to do with the things done to him? He's certainly still recovering from it and not just mentally, his body is trying to catch up, too. Though his ribs and knee have healed and Viggo is putting enough food in him, he's still worryingly thing and that doesn't help his mental health. It all contributes to the tiredness that he feels.

"It's okay, my Dear, I know that you're having a hard time." Viggo understands, but he's only pretending to be nice, pretending to be concerned.

Hiccup looks down at himself, picking at the loose skin on his fingers. He's hurting, he feels like crying, he feels such shame and he can't see a single part of himself without remembering.

Without a doubt, Viggo can see the emotion growing in his eyes, can see a non-physical weight physically weighing him down. His response to that? Taking his glass of wine to sip from it. In his eyes, this is progress.

But as painful as those venomous memories are, they make Hiccup think of an important question.

"Can I- can I ask you a question?" Hiccup asks cautiously. There is something he needs to know, though he is afraid of the answer. He is very afraid.

"Make your move first, Hiccup, I don't appreciate to be kept waiting. After that, you can ask." Viggo responds, gesturing to the board, and so Hiccup turns his attention quietly back down to their game.

It's only because of Viggo that he knows how to play chess. He might've been a little curious at some point, he knows Fishlegs certainly has been, but it wasn't until Viggo came into his life that he learned how to play.

Maybe he could be good with a little bit more practice, Viggo is quite an experienced players, but his fatigue doesn't allow him to think of any good moves. When Hiccup makes his next one, it's the first one he can find. It might not be the best move, but he's not in the right mindset to even try to go for a win either. He's afraid of what'll happen if he does win.

Besides, he doesn't have the energy for it, he just wants to ask his question and have his answer.

Viggo hum disapprovingly and Hiccup holds his breath for one tense moment.

"Go on, ask your question." But fair is fair, so Viggo awaits his question.

"Do I... Um.. Do I have to ever, you know?" Hiccup can feel his heartbeat growing louder, can feel it pounding against his sternum. He acts subdued, but on the inside, he's full of turmoil and fright.

"Do I ever have to go back? Down-downstairs?" But Viggo is a patient man when Hiccup doesn't make him angry and he manages to ask. Hiccup fears the answer he may receive.

Viggo crosses his arms and hums as if in thought. It is nothing but an act as he already has his answer. He likes to keep Hiccup on his toes, likes to make him worry and stress. It's good, it's how Hiccup knows to behave.

"Well, no, not as long as you're a good boy. I won't have a reason to send you back if you listen and are good, do I?" That answer is barely comforting and Viggo's almost endearing smile doesn't help.

So long as Hiccup doesn't step out of line, he has nothing to worry about. So long as he listens, is a good boy, does everything that's asked and expected of him, he'll be okay. But then, what exactly is 'stepping out of line' to Viggo? Is it when he falls back into his old behavior? When he tries to escape? Or is it something as small as speaking out of turn?

Hiccup could ask, but maybe asking is considered stepping out of line and he doesn't want to risk that.

Thinking back to that place hurts so much and it makes him sick to his stomach. It's awful, so very awful. And the only reason he's sitting in the dining room with the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the window now is because he's given in to him.

He hopes he never has to go through something like that ever again.

"Oh my Dear," Viggo offers a hand and his support as he notices the tears growing in Hiccup's eyes. "My wonderful Dear."

He knows that he's hurting, that was the entire point of keeping Hiccup down there for the first three months of his time here. How can Viggo trust him to be a good boy upstairs if he hasn't learned to obey first? And learning to obey always hurts, learning to be his perfect partner hurts. His tears are a sign that it's working. This is a good thing!

Hesitantly, Hiccup accepts it and places his hand in Viggo's, the man squeezing his in return. Unless it's erotic in nature, Hiccup doesn't get affectionate gestures like this, so it's nice to just have his hand held for once.

Viggo's hand is warm, too. As much as he fears and hates the man, it's just nice to be held.

He knows Astrid liked to walk hand in hand with him, knows his friends liked hugs, he misses those simple things.

Hiccup's lower lip trembles, a lump in his throat, and the tears are impossible to hold back. The affection and thinking of his friends and girlfriends don't help. A thumb rubs the back of his hand comfortingly.

"It'll be okay, Hiccup. Just be a good boy and you don't have to go back. All you need to do is to remember that and listen." Viggo tells him, as if that is a reassuring thing to hear.

As long as he listens, he doesn't have to fear the basement. As long as he's a good boy, he doesn't have to worry.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryker running Hiccup over with his car injured him gravely, but broken ribs, a dislocated knee, and a hurt hip only kept Hiccup from fighting back for so much. If Viggo has ever hoped that they would, he was wrong.

Once Hiccup got his bearings, once he comprehended the position that he's in, he has only one goal in mind and that is to escape.

The cuffs that were there when he first woke up were only used to keep him from flying into a panic and injuring himself further. The near panic attack Hiccup had was already enough to endanger him.

The next time and the next and every time he wakes up afterward, they aren't there. If he were healthy, maybe they would be used to tie him down, but he isn't and Viggo must believe his ribs enough to hold him down.

He was wrong, of course.

Hiccup is free to leave the bed. And though he can't breathe properly without the painkillers provided by his abductors, Hiccup has enough experience walking around with his bad leg that the dislocation of a joint meant little to him. He can jump and land wrong and it will pop out, this is nothing new to him.

So carefully and slowly, making use of the hours he's alone, he inspects every nook and cranny of the room they keep him in. When Viggo is at work, Ryker doesn't care enough to visit, so that leaves him with plenty of opportunities to explore.

The bathroom, while objectively nice, only has the bare essentials. A toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, body wash, a hairbrush, that sort of thing. None of them are the brands he uses, rather they are the ones his abductor personally prefers.

In his little living space, there is only the bed and that's that. The mattress is decent, the frame sturdy, and the covers and pillowcase soft. Though an asshole, Viggo has a standard he does not lower unless it comes to his murder cabin, which Hiccup won't know about for months.

Besides the bed, there is no nightstand, no shelves, and nothing to entertain him with. Either Viggo hasn't thought of it, didn't care, or purposely didn't want Hiccup to keep himself busy.

There is only the chessboard, the one thing he would sometimes bring down to the basement with him. It takes only a week for Hiccup to hate it with a passion.

But though they don't keep him confined to the bed, his injuries do keep him from doing much to escape. Exploring is one thing, but attempting to fashion some sort of weapon or lockpick or something to undo the hinges of the door is beyond him. What little he already does leaves him breathless.

Besides, it is in his best interest to reserve his strength.

Because when the hours pass and Viggo eventually comes home, he needs it.

In the beginning, they started out as touches. Hiccup could tell that this was purely because of his injuries. If he could breathe right, if his hip and knee could be used at all, his first days in the basement would've already been the closest thing to hell he's known in his short life thus far.

They were small things. Viggo would help him sit up, would give him his painkillers, seemingly normal stuff, but the hand would linger. It would be on his upper arm, his back, his side, eventually on his thigh. And even there, there's a journey closer and closer to his center.

They are discomforting and Hiccup moves out of his reach every time, letting out a discomforting chuckle each time. He just doesn't know how to deal with such intrusive attention.

And then, one day, Viggo dares a kiss and Hiccup punches him for it. His lips aren't wanted on his and Hiccup makes sure he felt it.

He has only been kissed without his consent once before and that was by Dagur. He'd been in complete shock back then, utterly frozen and defenseless. He'd promised himself since that kiss that he would never let anyone kiss him like that again. But Viggo has and so Hiccup acts accordingly.

But then he regrets it shortly afterward, of course. The sudden upwelling of violence makes his wounded ribs scream. He holds it, collapsing to his knees while Viggo stands over him and holds his lower jaw, flexing it angrily.

"I suppose it was foolish of me to think you wouldn't fight back, though you've certainly surprised me with the violence you appear to be capable of." There is venom in his tone and eyes, his anger barely restrained. His pride has been hurt.

Hiccup groaning and struggling to draw in any oxygen on the floor does nothing to him.

"But don't worry, it's been duly noted and will be dealt with appropriately." With those final words, Viggo takes his leave. Turning and walking away, locking the door behind him as he goes.

But as time passes, there is no retaliation, no punishment. Though Viggo has been angered, there seems to be no reaction of any kind. Hiccup thinks it strange, but he's never been kidnapped by an obsessed man before.

Dagur certainly tried once with his convincing a 15-year-old boy to run away with him, but he's nothing like Viggo. So Hiccup still doesn't know what to expect. If he had, that meant he would've seen the red flags, and that meant he might not even be in this situation.

And then, Hiccup is plunged straight into hell.

Because the next day, his breakfast is brought, as per usual. Though always cautious, Hiccup takes it and eats it because he wants to heal, wants to regain his strength, and that's when the trouble begins. He doesn't know what could've been used, but that innocent bowl of plain cereal was poisoned.

He remembers Viggo bringing it to him personally, his fond smile turning into a malicious smirk when Hiccup reaches the end of his meal. He takes the bowl back and then leaves, wishing him a "pleasant time" in the basement.

And now here he is, clutched to the toilet like his life depends on it.

Ever tried vomiting with two broken ribs? This is Hiccup's first time and he can attest to how excruciating it is.

Every lurch isn't just accompanied with the usual burning throat and foul taste, but also with the agony of his injured side forcible contracting together to get the contents of his stomach out of him.

His stomach, plagued by horrible cramps, wants to be relieved and at the same time, his lungs would love some air. They battle to have their needs met and that just makes the entire experience about a hundred times worse than it already is. A hundred times more traumatizing, too.

Sitting on his bad knee and hip helps little. With the urge to throw up, there is the urge to do anything but kneel in front of the toilet on the hard, tiled floor. About every part of this is pure, unadulterated torture.

To make things even worse, there is the constant fear of a broken rib moving and collapsing his lung. Ryker certainly wouldn't care enough to take him to a hospital in time and Viggo might rather want to clean his hands free of him than risk being caught as a kidnapper. They wouldn't come to his aid, they will let him suffocate to death instead.

Every time the urge to retch comes, he tries to suppress it. For the sake of his ribs, to have control over his own body again, sobbing, coughing his airways free. Every time he tries, it gets so much worse, but that makes him want to try harder, and so the cycle continues.

Time passes, the cycle is endless, the pain is torment and all Hiccup can do is beg.

"Please, don't make me throw up any more." He whimpers, everything hurting, throat burning, voice hoarse.

All day this cycle goes on and on. Every half an hour the urge strikes, until it continues long after there is nothing left in his system to give up, until all he does is dry heave in desperation, until the wee hours of the night.

Sweating, trembling, beyond exhausted, and grossly sobbing and hiccuping, Hiccup still clutches to the toilet bowl hours after his tainted breakfast.

He wants it to end, he wants to sleep, but his stomach is still upset and he doesn't want to leave the safety of the bathroom.

It's been at least an hour since the last time he threw up and that means he's carefully allowing himself to hope that this is it, that this is the end of his suffering for the day. If he could, he would fall asleep right here on the cold floor.

His right side is on fire and his abdominal muscles are sore after the workout they've gotten. He can barely swallow, throated burned from all the stomach acids.

Conveniently, after not showing his face the entire day, Viggo decides now is the time to make his entrance. Hiccup could've used a little support during the day instead of being forced to go through those long hours of torture completely alone. He has pleaded for his mom and dad at some point.

Watching him shiver with a look of sadistic satisfaction, their gazes meeting, Viggo can see the pain and the tiredness in them. Hiccup's arm is on the seat, his head resting on the limb while he sits there limply.

"Learned your lesson?" Viggo asks with an air of arrogance to him. It's as if he expects him to fall to his feet and beg for forgiveness right then and there.

"Water? Please?" He asks softly, tone barely above a whisper.

"Hm-hm, have you learned your lesson?" Viggo repeats. If Hiccup wants to have that glass of water, he needs to earn it first.

"Please, Viggo. Please," Viggo, believing this to be an admittance of defeat, takes his suit jacket to lay over Hiccup's shoulder, he must be cold after all of that.

"Let us get you washed up and hydrated." He tells him, playing nice now that Hiccup's down and beaten. The dirty towel, used to wipe his mouth during the day, can be taken care of later.

But what Viggo doesn't realize is that Hiccup isn't a fast learner when it comes to things like this.

He doesn't throw up again, but it takes him a week to get better, which is nearly a week of lying in bed and recovering from whatever's been fed to him. Just sleeping and drinking and eating the few light meals his stomach can handle at that time.

But once he's there, when Viggo deems him healthy enough to try and force his tongue down his throat again, Hiccup still doesn't stand for it and shows his dismay by fighting back in any way he can.

So he's sick for a second week after his disobedience. Once he's recovered from that, a third week follows. Viggo quickly realizes he has to switch to a new tactic.

Because eventually those injuries heal and that means he can be a little meaner to Hiccup.

There is something Viggo wants from him and he's adamant about getting it.

Besides, with those ribs better now all that food, when not poisoned, is only good for one thing and that is all that extra energy that Viggo deems unessential.

So he cuts Hiccup off. When Hiccup rejects Viggo's hugely inappropriate advances once again, he's denied food for the rest of the day. The first time, he only misses dinner, so that means he's quite hungry by the time breakfast arrives.

But Hiccup automatically denies that meal, too, having learned from the three times he's been made terribly ill through poisoned food to be wary of breakfast.

Lunch comes and Hiccup accepts that meal, but it comes at the price of more of the older man's forceful affection, which he'd strongly rejected once again. At dinner he stays away, breakfast Hiccup misses on purpose, lunch is spoiled by Viggo trying to kiss him and pin him to the bed. It becomes a cycle, with lunch becoming the sole source of his food.

The three weeks of illness has severely weakened him, but by the day he grows even weaker, only given enough to not get him in trouble. That makes it so much harder for him to fight back and Viggo doesn't care if he loses a couple of pounds in the process. And with no injuries getting in the way, Viggo can afford to be a little rough.

If anything, it's fun to see how long Hiccup can keep this up. Everybody has a breaking point and his doesn't seem so easily reached.

"No, please, don't! Stop! Viggo, you're such a piece of shit, stop!" He would shout, he would push, he would kick, but his attempts weaken as his body does.

So naturally, the night comes when Hiccup can no longer fight back and he's run out of energy to do much of anything. By the time he's just shy of being nothing by skin and bones, he's tried everything he can think of to keep Viggo from stealing from him. The younger Grimborn even sports a deeply blue bitemark at some point, to which Ryker's only amused response is; "So he's kinky."

But while his attempts work to deter him for another night, it's not enough in the long run and the lack of strength has put a full stop to his escape plan, too.

Reserves empty, all out of tricks, too run-down to even sass, black and bruised all over, Hiccup eventually can't stop Viggo from taking what he's been after since the first day they met.

He forced himself onto him, raped him, and it's a first time he could've done without.

"Now was that really so hard?" Viggo asks him afterward in a mocking tone as he dresses, leaving Hiccup to curl up and hug himself. There is no comfort afterward and it's on purpose. Viggo doesn't even stay, making Hiccup wallow in the shame all alone.

That night he cries for his parents, pleading with them to come get him. He hasn't cried for them since a dragon attacked him and he had to be flown to the nearest hospital. But being pinned down and raped will certainly do the trick.

During his stay, Hiccup will have a hard time admitting it even to himself that it happened. The mere thought, while the memories are always there, is always cut short.

The next morning is his first breakfast in much too long and Hiccup cannot reject it, despite his fear. It's like a reward for losing.

No matter how awful accepting it makes him feel, he can't refuse. Viggo sits down on the bed next to him as he eats, much too close, his hand on his thigh, and it makes Hiccup sicker to his stomach than being poisoned made him feel. But he couldn't reject the food, couldn't ask Viggo to leave, because his body despairs for that food.

And then afterward, there is a new cycle, a new game. It's one of choice, if you will. Either Hiccup gives in or he starves. Wanting to live and make it out above else, he chooses the former.

That is how his three months in the darkness of the basement went.

In a way, anything after that is child's play compared to what he suffered downstairs. Perhaps, the time spend in the Grimborn home afterward, is time he spends gathering up the pieces of his shattered spirit to put back together again one by one until the holiday trip that leads to his freedom.

It's a shoddy job in the end, but he survives.

Viggo comes to get him on the anniversary of the third month of his abduction with more presentable clothes for him to wear. Something other than the hoodie, shirt, and jeans he'd been taken in, which were dirty and smelly by now.

There's a broken and dull look to Hiccup when Viggo tells him to wash up and dress in them. He quite likes the sight of it. He's fond, even.

The clothes don't fit, appearing to be too large on him. But is that really surprising when the sizes are based on a time before all that weight loss?

When dressed, Hiccup stands before Viggo, staring down at the first decent clothes he's had in much too long, the first clean clothes. They're not his, they're not even the kind of clothes he would wear during formal events. They're so ill-fitting they look almost ridiculous on him, too. That is, he would look ridiculous if the sight of him didn't spark the more natural reaction of; "Oh my God, get this man a doctor."

Viggo is fruitlessly straightening out his clothes that don't fit, but he doesn't seem to mind. Once they're about as neat as he can get them, he cups a hollowed-out cheek and brings Hiccup's face up to have their eyes meet. The entire time, Hiccup has his gaze downcast.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you, my Dear. You've learned your place." Viggo tells him, staring into eyes that are rather empty with a satisfied glint in his own.

When he draws his hand back, Hiccup's gaze is soon downcast again.

Stepping away from him, Viggo motions towards the door, the same one that's been locked for three full months, even whenever Grimborn was down here.

"This is a special day." Hiccup is told.

"You've earned this." He's told.

And now, Viggo wants him to take the stairs up.

The door is opened to him and Hiccup lifts his eyes up. He can see the stairs, can see more of it as it opens wider. There is the soft throbbing of longing in his heart, of excitement.

Is this really it? Is he finally going up there and leaving the basement?

The stairs revealed, Viggo puts a hand on his lower back to gently push him towards it. The steps are wooden, they're filthy, but they're the best stairs he's ever seen.

But even better is that the door on the other side at the top isn't just unlocked, it's open and Hiccup can see light coming in. Natural light! His eyes aren't used to that much anymore and it is blinding, but he refuses to look away and squints.

But it's open, he really is leaving.

The tears he wants to cry then are of joy. There's a spark inside of him that Viggo will come to regret.

He's survived and, in the end, he fights back.

He's not broken.

#rtte #race to the edge #httyd movies #modern au #hiccup haddock #hiccup whump #viggo grimborn #vigcup #one-sided vigcup #httyd fics #one-sided relationship #tw: non-con relationship #tw: non-con #tw: starvation #tw: food deprivation #tw: non-con touching #tw: non-con kissing #my fanfics #ruin

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radbutsafe · 4 years ago

Note

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

#ask meme #ask rad shit #writing #writing by rad #fanfic #reina girl u put me thru it I swear lol #thank u for sending!!#ur amazing!!!!

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vintage-story-time · 4 years ago

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Step-Father's Sins by Unknown

Chapter 1

Michele Madison did not find out until her honeymoon that her husband was a sexual sadist. She was shocked to find that her new husband enjoyed causing her pain just as much as he enjoyed causing her pleasure.

This was tough enough for Michele to handle at first, but her confusion was compounded by the fact that she was beginning to like the pain.

At first she thought that it was annoying that Bernard had to tie her up and whip her before he fucked her in one of her three, sex holes.

But now she knew that there was close association between the pleasure and pain she received, and that one sensation enhanced the other.

She had to admit that Bernard made her come harder than any other man she had ever been with, not that she was an expert on the subject of men. But Michele had been around, and she had two teenage daughters to prove it.

Michele - along with her daughters Mindy and Marlene - had moved in with Bernard Madison after the wedding, and were trying to make ago of it as a family.

It was a spring evening and the girls were out on dates, which meant Michele and Bernard had the house to themselves.

Bernard was a successful businessman and owned a big house on top of a hill in the Upstate New York town of Caledonia.

The girls had grown up ten miles down the road in Rushdale with their mother, and were annoyed because they were going to have to switch high schools the following fall.

Mindy was seventeen and would be entering her senior year. She was relieved that they hadn't made her finish up her junior year at Caledonia High School.

Marlene was ten months younger than her sister and was finishing up her sophomore year at Rushdale High.

The weather in Caledonia was beginning to warm and the grass was beginning to turn green and start to grow.

The leaves were returning to the trees, and everywhere men and women alike were getting hornier than hell.

Michele was washing the dinner dishes and Bernard was sitting on the couch in the livingroom watching television.

He could feel his balls aching with desire, and he could feel his cock start to grow inside his trousers.

"Woman!" Bernard called out from his sitting position. He never took his eyes away from the TV set.

His jaw was set firmly and there was a burning in his dark brown eyes that looked about to emit a lasar beam.

"Yes, dear," Michele called back from the kitchen. There was a musical tone to her voice whenever she spoke.

Many thought that Michele was singing her way through life.

In spite of the fact that she was thirty-five years old, Michele had lost none of her youthful beauty and charm.

There were times when Bernard thought he was living with three teenage girls rather than only two.

"I need sex!" Bernard called out. He was using his command voice, and Michele could tell he was impatient.

"Just a second, sweetheart," Michele said. "I'm just finishing up."

The woman was washing the last of the dishes and only had to dry them and put them away for her domestic chore to be complete.

"I need sex now!" Bernard screamed at the top of his lungs.

His voice was deep — like the growl of a bear who had just been woken involuntarily from his winter's slumber.

Indeed, Bernard often sounded more like an animal that a human being when he was sexually aroused.

Michele knew that she would have to finish the dishes later.

When Bernard hollered like that it meant that he wasn't in the mood to take no for an answer. She quickly dried her hands on the apron tied around her waist and left the kitchen to be with, her man.

It was time for Michele to do her wifely duty.

She didn't mind. Bernard always made her come more times than she could count when he fucked her.

Bernard looked at his wife and smiled appreciatively.

He thought that she was one sexy cunt. The sexiest cunt he had ever pumped, that was for sure.

The man had never boffed a pussy tighter and more comfortable than Michele's — and unlike his wife, he was an expert.

He had been able to tell from the second he first laid eyes on her that she wanted to be his slave.

But the cruel man had waited until he had the little gold ring around her finger to let her see his sadistic nature.

Keeping his brutality a secret, he figured, was itself sadistic.

Michele had long black hair that fell full over her shoulders and down between her rather sharp shoulder biades.

She stood five foot three and was built on a small frame so that she had never weighed more than one hundred pounds in her life.

She had the face of an angel. She looked like a white-souled being who had never committed a sin.

Her large eyes were dark brown and twinkled whenever she was happy — which was most of the time.

She had a tiny turned up button nose that wiggled up and down like a bunny's whenever she was particularly excited about something or other.

Her mouth was not large, but her lips, were full and sensuous.

Her lips were already moist, although Bernard rarely caught her licking them to make them wet.

She had a pouting lower, lip that Bernard thought was fun to suck on, and always looked kissable, even if sex was the last thing on her mind. She held her lips parted frequently so that Bernard could see little saliva bubbles on her perfectly straight, pearly-white teeth.

Her tongue could stick far out of her mouth and was very soft and pink, an asset which Bernard had learned to use fully.

She had an olive complexion and her skin was smooth and soft, in spite of her age. If she went to Hollywood, Bernard figured, she would be able to play the parts of high school girls. She would end up playing parts the age of her own daughters.

In spite of Michele's slim frame she had large breasts which were just as perky and firm as they were before she had Mindy, seventeen years before.

Those twin ripe melons rested high on her chest, and were so pert that the nipples pointed slightly upward.

Although she usually did, Michele didn't have to wear a bra, a fact that Bernard was proud of.

When Michele became sexually aroused every time her man beckoned - her nipples grew large and got very hard.

They would burn and tingle with a need to be caressed both gently and cruelly by Bernard's hands and mouth.

Her waist was still very slim and her tummy was flat.

She had put on a couple of inches around her hips - her buttocks were a bit fleshier than they once had been — but Bernard only thought that this made her look womanly.

As she removed her apron she could feel the blood rushing down her body to the delta between her thighs.

Michele could feel both her inner and outer pussy lips start, to swell with the engorgement of her arousal.

She could feel the glands inside her pussy begin to secrete their natural lubrication making her all wet and slippery.

The beautiful dark haired woman knew that it wouldn't be long before she made a wet stain in the crotch of her panties.

"Let's go upstairs, big man," Michele said with a sexy tilt to her head and cock to her hip.

"Right," Bernard said. He charged up the stairs three steps ahead of her. He felt like his cock was going to burst out of his underwear and his trousers.

He could tell that his prick was going to snap out at attention in front of his loins the second it was released from its cloth prison.

Bernard was over twice as big as Michele, which made his brutishness even more appealing to the submissive woman.

He stood a couple of inches over six feet and weighed well over two hundred pounds. This is not to say that he was obese. In fact the man did not have an ounce of fat on him anywhere. He had been working out three times a week for years to keep his body in perfect condition.

His shoulders were broad and his neck was thick.

There were thick slabs of muscle across his chest and back.

His face was ruggedly handsome, and he always looked like he needed a shave. His five o'clock shadow began thirty seconds after he finished shaving.

His hair was very dark, almost black, and curly. He always looked ungroomed. When, Michele had first met Bernard she had compulsively urged him to comb his hair. Now that she was his sex slave she knew better than to criticize her mate's appearance in any way. Michele rarely wore any make-up at all. Her beauty was natural.

She wanted to do nothing to make herself look artificial.

The dark haired woman's sole concession to womanly vanity was the dark red nail polish she used to paint her fingernails and toenails.

The small woman had always thought that Bernard had been constructed by God just for fucking purposes.

In spite of the girth of his upper torso, his waist and hips were very slim - almost non-existent in comparison.

His thighs were very thick again, and he had very large powerful hands and feet.

Michele had noticed long before that one of her husband's thighs was bigger around than her waist.

And then there was his cock. It still boggled her mind.

She would never forget the first time she saw his dick.

"W—W—What is that?" Michele had stammered nervously.

"It's my prick. What the fuck did you think it was?"

"You aren't going to stick that thing in me, are you?"

"That's the way it's got to be, cupcake. That's the way it's got to be!" Bernard said with a small chuckle.

It hurt the first couple of times he fucked her, but soon she found that her muscles adapted and she stretched to take him comfortably.

It wasn't until the woman's honeymoon only the second honeymoon of her life — that she found out what pain was all about, and how much she dug it!

Bernard slammed the door shut behind him after entering the bedroom that some paint chips fell from the ceiling.

Michele considered herself lucky that she had scooted past him into the room at the last second.

If she hadn't she would have gotten the door right in the face. Michele was quick. She had good survival instinct and knew when Bernard was in the mood to do violent things.

She would never have made it if she wasn't quick.

She certainly got enough practice at evasive tactics.

"STRIP!!!" Bernard screamed, placing his hands on his hips.

He pressed his long strong fingers together and pointed them downward.

"Yes, dear," Michele replied subserviently, head bowed.

She kicked off her shoes and reached back to unzip the frilly housedress she had been wearing. She stepped out of the dress and removed her bra so Bernard could see how erect her nipples were.

"I'm on fire for you," she said.

Bernard stood with his shoulders back and his chin tilted up.

"I can feel my pussy getting all wet and slippery," Michele said.

Bernard bent slightly at the knees and stood with his slim yet powerful hips out in front of the rest of his body.

Michele reached down to hook her thumbs under the elastic at the top of her bikini panties. She shivered.

Her panties were pink and Bernard could see that they had little red hearts all over them — looking very cute.

Bernard could also see that there was a big wet stain in the crotch of her panties made by her spilling cunt juice.

His cock throbbed violently every time he thought about ramming his pole up her tight smooth snatch.

The woman had to wiggle her hips from side to side to get her panties over them.

The wet material in the crotch had crawled up in between her swollen outer labia, making her pussy feel caught in a trap.

Her cunt had felt like it was suffocating for a second.

She sighed as she gave her pussy lips a chance to breathe.

It felt wonderful as the wet cloth pulled out from between her hypersensitive, fully engorged labia.

The second she removed her panties Bernard could pick up the scent of her hot pussy in his flaring nostrils.

His chest and belly were covered with a thick rug of fur, which made him look even more like an animal.

Michele always had gone for men who looked like they might have a little ape in the bloodline.

"Are you going to tie me up?" Michele asked.

"Nah," Bernard said gruffly, shaking his head.

His hands went for his belt buckle. Michele shuddered.

He pulled his belt out of all of his belt loops one at a time and folded the strap in half slowly.

The belt was made of black leather and he held it by the buckle end in a tightly clenched right fist.

Bernard had his long strong fingers wrapped around the leather so fiercely that all of his knuckles turned white.

He clenched his back teeth together so firmly that his jaw ached and the muscles at the sides of his ruggedly handsome face protruded.

Bernard cupped his left palm and smacked it with the belt as hard as he could, making a loud sharp sound.

It reminded Michele of a firecracker on the Fourth of July, or a car backfiring, or even a gunshot!

She winced when that sound rang through her ears because she knew it was the same sound the leather strap would make when it struck her ass.

"Bend over the foot of the bed, woman!" Bernard commanded.

She turned her back to him and moved her feet far apart on the bedroom floor.

Keeping her knees straight she lifted her heels and supported her weight on her toes, which arched far back.

The woman raked at the bedspread with her fingernails as she bent forward at the waist, offering her buttocks to her sex master's abuse.

Her fingernails were long and were manicured carefully to be very close to the same length, and they all had a common roundness to their tips. Her fingers were long and thin. Bernard had a hard time looking at those fingers without imagining how they looked when they were caressing his humongous private parts.

Her fingernails were always painted the color of blood.

The man wasted no time in starting the brutal whipping.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He whipped at her slightly parted ass cheeks as hard as he could, raising large red welts on the flesh.

She screamed.

Her dark eyes filled with tears.

Those tears spilled down her cheeks and along the sides of her nose.

Just to be extra mean the sadistic man smacked her on the backs of her thighs a couple of times.

Then he hit her on the backs of her knees, where he knew she was very sensitive and the pain would be particularly sharp.

The man then tossed the belt away carelessly without bothering to see where it landed. Michele knew her spanking was through.

The beautiful woman could tell that she was going to have some trouble sitting down for a couple of days.

But she didn't think that she would have to carry a pillow around with her like she did sometimes.

This time the man hadn't even drawn any blood with the strap. She could tell he was in a cuddly mood.

The truth of the matter was that he couldn't stand having his clothes on anymore and was anxious to get nude.

He ripped off his shirt, baring his chest, and tore his pants down so that his cock could come springing out like a horny jack-in-the-box.

Michele turned to look at his cock and balls.

She didn't think that the novelty would ever wear off his genitalia.

He had by far the longest cock she had ever seen, and it was twice as thick as any other she had known.

His prick was a full nine inches long as it stood out straight from his hips at a slightly upward angle.

The entire length of his prick was bobbing up and down with his hominess, coming very close to slapping him in the rock-hard flat plain of his belly.

If that contact had been made his cock head would have smacked him several inches above his bellybutton.

His balls felt very swollen. He would have sworn that his testicles had ballooned to twice their normal girth.

His scrotal sack felt filled to the brim with hot semen and he could tell that he wouldn't have to play hide the Salami with the cunt fore long before he shot his creamy man come deep inside hem poontang.

Michele could see that his cock was thickest at the head, although the shaft was only, slightly thinner.

The huge glans had always reminded the beautiful woman of a purple edible mushroom, or perhaps a doorknob.

Sometimes the head of his cock became so engorged that it looked almost black.

At those times the skin that covered that large cock head would stretch so thin it looked ready to tear.

Theme were times when even Bernard thought the head of his cock would explode if another drop of hominess blood tried to pump inside.

The man was having trouble keeping his hips still ...

He could feel his heart pounding with anticipation.

"Get on the bed," he commanded, gesturing with the slightly crooked forefinger on his right hand.

Naturally, Michele obeyed and when she was on the bed she asked him, "Which hole do you want to fuck me in?"

"The cunt. At least the cunt first. I feel like I might have enough jam for a few fucks tonight," he said.

"The children won't be home until late," Michele said.

There was a feline purr in her voice as she spoke.

"Fuck the children," Bernard said. He felt like spitting on the floor.

"You would love to," Michele said, realizing that she was getting very close to being slapped across the face.

"You're damn right it would," Bernard said with a sadistic chuckle.

"What position would you like to fuck me in?" Michele asked.

"Doggie-style. I want to take you from the rear," he said.

"Oh, Bernard! I love it when you fuck me like that," she said.

Her voice was cheerful and her eyes had cleared. There were still stains on her cheeks from the tears she had spilled while the man was whipping her ass raw only moments before.

Michele rolled over on her belly and then moved to her hands and knees.

She kept her head low and pushed her knees apart on the bed as far as she could get them, parting her, outer and inner cunt lips in this manner.

She clawed at the bedspread with her long red fingernails and straightened her elbows as she arched her back to lift her ass high.

Bernard moved to a kneeling position behind her and grabbed the base of his prick in his right fist.

He guided his cock head to her cunt gracefully.

He could feel his prick throbbing against his palm.

He rubbed his pisshole against her clit for a second.

Then he lowered the head to the mouth of her fuck hole and began to push that humongous head between Michele's suddenly stretched inner labia!

#Step-Father's Sins #Chapter 1

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holeinotomemind · 4 years ago

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MLQC Fanfic: Hearts of Storm - Ch 7 - Birthday Dinner

WARNING: NSFW/18+ fic. No smut this chapter. Birthday angst. Prev chapter dub/non-con, eventual 3P, spoilers, long dragged out fic and angst. Not morally correct. Turn away if this is not your thing. Pairing: Shaw x MC, Gavin x MC, Shaw x MC x Gavin AO3 Link: [here]

Notes: [See full notes on AO3] Big thanks to Lutz and sushikitty (aka Aelyxandra) for betaing this chapter again!I swear I didn't write and post this chapter because it was Gavin's birthday a couple of days ago! It just kinda worked out that way...

Steam rose from the three dishes placed beside a beautiful cake, carefully laid out in front of the two placemats. The pleasant aroma filled the room.

“Happy Birthday, Gavin.” Yui whispered as she looked across the dining table towards the empty seat.

Yui managed to pull herself back together after the bombing incident several months ago. Although she felt unsure if she’d ever be the same without Gavin, at the very least, she was no longer allowing herself to drown in her sorrows anymore.

Today, however, she allowed herself to regress.

Spring came and went, but the beautiful Summer never arrived. Loveland City was still covered in snow even though it was late July, reminding her of the harsh reality.

But today, staying in this room, she wanted to escape. Even if only temporarily.

Here, she could imagine that Gavin was still with her and that nothing had changed.

She woke up early today to bake his birthday cake and spent the afternoon carefully decorating it. Gavin’s eating habits had improved since they became an item, but he still relied heavily upon take-out food. So she rolled up her sleeves and cooked up some of his favorite dishes, making sure that they were not only tasty but also nutritious. Once preparations were done, she set the table for both of them, making sure she put extra rice in his bowl.

She wasn’t delusional. She wasn’t expecting Gavin to miraculously show up, but she had promised to celebrate his every birthday. Regardless of what she had done, regardless of whether there would be a chance for them to celebrate this day together again in the future, she didn’t want to break this promise.

Staring at the dishes in a daze, she remembered the first time she cooked for Gavin at his place. Yui could clearly remember the day when she showed up at his apartment, ready to prepare a home-cooked meal for him only to find that he had absolutely nothing in his pantry. As time went on, little by little, the counter and the cupboards of his kitchen filled up with condiments and herbs that she would bring every time she went over to his place to cook.

Then once in a while, she would find brand new items that she didn’t buy for him but were necessary ingredients for her cooking. When she asked Gavin, he would scratch his head and tell her that he saw it in a store and thought she might want to use it the next time she cooked.

Yui knew she wasn’t the best cook, but Gavin never complained. He always enjoyed the food as if it was the best thing he had ever eaten. Her heart always warmed just by watching him devour her cooking.

Her chest tightened and she could feel a lump in her throat as she looked at the empty seat across from her. She bit down on her lower lip as she released a long, deliberate breath.

Today was Gavin’s birthday, there should be no tears. Leaning her head on the back of the chair, she stared at the ceiling, her hand idly caressing her ginkgo bracelet.

She didn’t know how long she stayed in that position, but by the time the ache in her heartfelt more manageable and she picked up her chopsticks to put a piece of the food in her mouth, it had already cooled.

She swallowed the bite of food without tasting anything. Sighing, she slowly put down her chopsticks. She didn’t feel like eating, didn’t feel hungry at all despite not having a proper meal since she woke up this morning.

Giving up on the food, she got up to put things away, but only got the cake back in the fridge when she heard the lock on the door turn. Yui turned around just in time to see Shaw walking in.

“I smell food,” he yawned as he propped his bass guitar against the wall.

Yui had been staying at his workshop since they announced that the bombs had done some structural damage to the apartment buildings in the area, including her own. Construction companies had been working hard to repair the damage, but all residents were required to vacate the building until further notice.

Since then, she had gotten used to him dropping by unannounced. After all, the place was only a quick walk from Live House and Shaw seemed to have no sense of privacy. At least when it came to her privacy.

“You cooked this?” Before she could stop him, Shaw already planted his butt on the chair across from her and shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth. Immediately, he frowned. “Damn! How much chilli did you put in this thing?”

“Then don’t eat it. It’s not for you anyway.” She reached her hand to grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him, but with a quick twist of his wrist, he dodged her and smacked her fingers with his chopsticks.

“Don’t be so stingy,” he tsked as he picked some more meat to put in the bowl of rice that he decided to claim as his. “I’m starving.”

It was undoubtedly annoying that Shaw showed up out of the blue and started eating the food she prepared for Gavin, but as she sat and watched him eat, she thought that perhaps it was for the best. At least, this way, the food wouldn’t have to go to waste, and she wouldn’t have to eat the leftovers for the next several days.

“Don’t be picky. Eat the vegetables too.” She couldn’t resist putting some broccoli in his bowl when she realized that he was only picking out the meat in the dishes.

He tutted again but didn’t argue.

She watched as he demolished the food and when he held out his empty bowl and asked for more rice, for a moment, she thought she had Gavin back in front of her again, smiling at her with those amber eyes.

“Hey, you got more rice?” Seeing that she was simply staring at him in a daze, Shaw waved his bowl in front of her and repeated.

She snapped back to reality.

What was she thinking? She shook her head before quickly taking his bowl and walking over to the rice cooker.

She must have gone crazy to see Gavin in him again.

“Grab me a can of coke too.”

“Did you break your arm or something? Go grab it yourself.” She snapped back. Sometimes, Yui wondered how everyone else could stand this brat.

“Awww, come on. You’re right by the fridge.”

She rolled her eyes but obliged. “You just like bossing me around.”

“Well, there’s that too,” he replied shamelessly.

By the time Yui returned, she found her bowl overflowing with food. Her eyebrows shot up as she stared at the disproportionately high vegetable-to-meat ratio.

“Don’t be picky. Eat the vegetables too.” He threw her words back at her with a crooked smile.

“Brat,” she muttered under her breath, but couldn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. She was about to tell him she wasn’t hungry when her stomach growled. Embarrassed, she shoved a piece of food in her mouth without thinking and immediately regretted it.

Her face turned red as she forcefully swallowed the food down her throat. Sticking out her tongue, she fanned it with her hand. Reaching over the table, she grabbed Shaw's coke and downed it in a few large gulps.

“You’re hilarious!” Shaw burst out laughing. “Hey, don’t glare at me, I didn’t do anything.”

“Gah, I couldn’t feel my tongue anymore.” Grabbing a tissue, she wiped off the sweat on her forehead.

“Why’d you make it so spicy if you can’t take the heat?” He put another piece of meat in his mouth as if it wasn’t spicy at all.

“It was because…” she stopped short. She wanted to say it was because Gavin liked spicy food and she was cooking to his taste, but she thought better of it. Shaw was likely to make fun of her if she told him the truth. So instead she said, “It’s none of your business.”

“Next time do hot pot instead. And, remember to put less chili pepper. I can’t taste anything except for the spice.” He criticized but didn’t stop polishing off the food.

“Hot pot,” she rolled her eyes. “All you think about is hot pot.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind fried chicken or barbecue either,” he shrugged.

“I’m not cooking for you,” she stuck out her tongue at him.

As much as what he said was infuriating, she couldn’t help but smile again watching him eat. Ever since she came to this dimension, she hadn’t had the opportunity to cook for anyone. It had been so long that she almost forgot how good it felt to have someone enjoy her home-cooked food.

Bringing the emptied dishes to the sink after he was finished, Yui was surprised to see him follow her to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” She asked when he pulled out a knife from the drawer.

He reached into the fridge and pulled out the birthday cake she baked for Gavin instead of answering her.

“How did you…”

“I told you,” he leaned towards her with a smirk. “I’m not as dumb as you.”

“Have you been spying on me?” Yui frowned.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “You think I’ve got nothing better to do?”

“But…” Yui opened her mouth to argue.

“You think too much,” he shoved a fork full of cake in her mouth.

She glared at him as she tried to swallow and saw him stabbing the same fork into his slice of cake again. This time putting a good-sized bite into his own mouth.

“Ew, it’s sweet,” he frowned as he complained.

“Of course, it’s sweet, it’s a cake.” Sometimes Yui wondered if conversing with him would make her roll her eyes so much that they would permanently get stuck to the back of her head. “What else do you expect? A hot pot flavored one?”

“Or a pizza-flavored one,” he smirked.

“The only person who would want a pizza-flavored cake is you.” It was obvious that he was jerking her chain, but she just couldn’t seem to stop herself from responding to his trolling.

“Yah yah, it wasn’t for me… blah blah blah…” he mocked.

Yui’s face fell at his words. How could she have forgotten? She had made this elaborate dinner for Gavin and it was Gavin’s birthday cake being devoured right now.

With all the bickering with Shaw, for a brief moment, she had forgotten the misery of not having Gavin by her side.

She was grateful for the distraction, yet deep inside her, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt.

“I’m stuffed,” he said out of the blue as he stood up to stretch.

“Of course, you ate two people’s worth of food and half a cake.” She half expected him to explode the way that he finished everything.

“Go put a coat on.”

“Why? Are we going somewhere?” Yui asked, confused at the sudden change in the direction of their conversation.

“You really haven’t learned a thing, have you? Stop asking questions. Let’s go!”

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