#just to make him suffer again later 😈

[amazingmsme]

Ruthlessness in Other Ways

AN: day 14, the day we’ve all been waiting for!!! I wanna give a huge thanks to 😈 anon for helping with the title, it couldn’t be more perfect! Poseidon really puts Odysseus through the wringer with this one! I let myself get mean with it, lol. Took a lot of inspiration from the manwhore au, so that explains the sexual tension. Slight warnings in the beginning for mild violence & descriptions of drowning. Other than that, there’s nothing you need to look out for. Hope y’all enjoy, this one was super fun & flustering! Sorry this was later than I planned, I’ve been super busy!

Odysseus was thrown into the water from the force of the lightning bolt, and he plunged deep below the surface with splinters and debris from his ship. He sank deeper and deeper until Odysseus regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and gasped for air, gulping in sea water. He  desperately tried to preserve what air remained in his lungs. He frantically swam towards the surface, but felt himself sinking further. He was caught in a rip current, and he was yanked further below the waves.

His lungs ached, his vision was fading, he was starting to panic as he fought to get to the surface. His head was throbbing, ears popping, lungs about to burst, and finally, they filled with water.

The last thing he saw was a dark shadow swimming towards him. It can't end like this...

~~~

Odysseus awoke with a splitting headache, but he had no time to take in his surroundings before he was coughing up sea water. He wretched and gasped for breath, only then realizing he could only lean forward so far. He felt stone pressed against his back, his arms chained to the wall.

"That's it, hack it up," a cold voice spoke from behind, slapping an even colder hand on his back. Odysseus went stiff, eyes shooting wide open.

"No..."

A deep, sly chuckle sounded too close to his ear for comfort.

"Hello again."

Poseidon grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to look him in the eye. He smiled at the pained hiss that escaped his victim, relishing in the fear etched on his face.

"Poseidon! I-" he was cut off with a sharp slap across the face.

"I'm not interested in conversation. I'd much rather make you beg for mercy," he growled, grabbing Odysseus by the jaw.

"Really? I thought mercy wasn't exactly your thing," Odysseus tried to remain defiant and cocky, refusing to give the God what he wants. He should've known better.

"I never said I'd show you any," he sneered, allowing himself to get closer. He grazed his claws over his throat as he let go of his jaw, brushing off the shudder and twitch as fear. What else would it be?

"Please, if this is about your son-"

"You think I still care about that?" Poseidon let out a low, snide chuckle. 

"What?"

"I just don't like you, Odysseus. And your suffering is just so fun to watch," he spoke casually, but wore a downright sinister grin. He pressed his trident against his chest, not enough to pierce his skin, but the threat was there. He drug the weapon down his body ever so slowly, slightly digging into the soft flesh.

He jerked back with a gasp, sucking in his stomach as he turned away, closing his eyes for good measure. Poseidon yanked him around by the hair once more.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he ordered. Odysseus forced his eyes open, meeting the God's piercing gaze. His eyes were full of fear and uncertainty, yet he had the gall to smile at him.

He gripped his hair tighter, pulling at the roots until he heard him yelp in pain.

"Wanna tell me what's so funny?" he asked in a low, threatening tone. Odysseus shook his head frantically.

"N-nothing!" he stammered, pressing himself against the wall of the cave.

"Then wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I slap it off," he threatened. Before Odysseus had the chance to answer, a swift backhand was delivered to his cheek. He could swear the webbing between his fingers made it sting even more.

"It would be so easy to just split you open," Poseidon mused, drawing a line down the center of his belly with the blunt tips of the trident. He really needed to learn how to sharpen his weapons better, because all Odysseus could focus on was how bad it tickled.

"Just get on with it then," Odysseus sighed, admitting defeat, squirming against the wall. Regardless of how blunt it was, it was still sharp enough to get the job done.

"No. You don't get the peace of a quick death," Poseidon said, pulling the trident back.

"Lucky me," he mumbled to himself. Poseidon sneered and lurched forward, metal clanging on the ground as he tossed the weapon aside. He slammed Odysseus against the wall, one hand gripping the base of his jaw while the other held him back by the shoulder.

"What was that?" he growled in his ear, warm breath ghosting over his skin. Odysseus gasped and tried to twist away, scrunching his neck. Poseidon's thumb rested on the edge of his armpit from where he gripped his shoulder.

Odysseus bit his lip and tried to turn away, but the hand on his jaw didn't allow it. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his breath came out in quick huffs through his nose. His arms were straining at their restraints as he tried to lean away, but... not in the way Poseidon expected.

He studied his expression, ready to scold him once more, until he noticed where his hand was.

Oh. Ooooh.

He looked back at his captive, a sadistic smile stretching across his face. He moved his hand down, raking his claws over his ribs, noticing the way Odysseus struggled to mask his reactions and pass off his smile as a pained grimace.

Things just got a lot more interesting.

Odysseus felt a chill run up his spine when he heard a slow, deep chuckle.

"Oh this is rich," he heard him say, and the hand around his throat forced him to look up. There was a sick, gleeful kind of curiosity shining in the God's eyes that hadn't been there before.

"What do you want from me?" he managed to ask. Poseidon only smirked.

"At first, I thought I wanted to hurt you. I had every intention of killing you slowly and leaving you to drown. But now, I'm second guessing myself," he said, leaning into the captain's personal space. Odysseus tried to lean away as much as he could.

"W-why the change of heart?"

Poseidon laughed, a contorted, garbled sound. "Humiliation is a far better punishment for you. Wouldn't you agree?"

"What?" Odysseus shook his head, brows knit together in confusion. No. There was no way he meant that.

"Tell me, king of Ithica. You wouldn't happen to be ticklish, would you?" he asked, curling his fingers ever so slightly so they dug into his ribs.

Odysseus choked on a gasp, jerking away from the touch as a blush quickly spread across his cheeks.

"And don't lie to a God," Poseidon added. He relished in the mix of fear, confusion and embarrassment on his face as he shook his head.

"Don't, please! Why that?" Odysseus stammered, pressing himself against the wall and staring him up and down. He barked out a quick laugh when both hands grabbed his ribcage before clamping his mouth shut to prevent anymore unwanted sounds from escaping.

"Because someone needs to break that fragile little ego of yours, and I look forward to watching you scream and writhe," he taunted as he began tapping his fingers against his ribs.

His breath hitched in his chest, and he instinctively twitched away. Poseidon smirked and scratched between each bone with sharp claws, and the first muffled giggles started to slip out. Odysseus tried to hold in his laughter as long as he could, but it was a futile effort.

"Trying to tough it out? Go ahead, it just makes it all the more fun when you finally break." Poseidon raked his claws up and down his ribs relentlessly, pausing to trace and scratch the spaces in between. Odysseus yelped, twisting side to side in his bonds. His breath was labored from the effort it took to maintain composure, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop the giggles from spilling out. Poseidon wrapped both hands around his entire ribcage and dug in with vibrating claws. The reaction was instant.

Odysseus finally cracked with a snort, releasing all the laughter that had been trapped in his chest. It was a rich, full sound, rare to those even among his inner circle, but now it took on a more desperate tone. He leaned away as far as the chains would allow, twisting uselessly.

"Really? That's all it took? I was honestly hoping you'd struggle a little longer," he teased in a purring, almost sultry tone. "But you mortals are so fragile, so sensitive," he slowly walked his fingers up his torso like they were climbing stairs. Odysseus shook his head as breathless giggles poured freely. "So easy to break."

Poseidon's hands jumped up to drill in his exposed hollows, kneading the muscles and scratching delicate skin. He threw his head back, cackling loudly as he desperately yanked on his arms.

"NOHOHO! J-just gohoho bahack to hitting mehehe!" Odysseus bargained, trying to appeal to his violent nature. Poseidon hummed in thought.

"I don't think so. Pain is an old friend of yours, isn't she? You've come to expect it around every turn. At some point, pain stops being effective at getting the point across," his voice was cold and emotionless, yet the sadistic glimmer in his eyes was proof that he was enjoying every second of this. He rubbed circles with his thumbs in the center of his underarms, sending Odysseus into wild hysterics. The chains rattled as he thrashed around, tugging on his arms with all the strength he had. His mouth hung open in a wide smile, nose scrunching as he snorted. His laughter was loud and deep, with a beautifully frantic undertone.

"But I doubt you were expecting this," to emphasize his point, he scratched up and down his exposed hollows, lightening his touch ever so slightly, but compensating by speeding up. Odysseus threw his head back with a giggly shriek, arching his back and jerking away.

"Confusion and utter humiliation are rather powerful tools of persuasion, wouldn't you agree?" he purred in his ear, making Odysseus squeal and scrunch his neck. Poseidon chuckled at the sound, reaching a hand up to flutter under his chin.

"N-nohoho!" Odysseus giggled and shook his head, slamming his chin down for protection. Poseidon smirked and cocked his head.

"Oh? You don't agree?" he asked as he began tracing up and down the length of his arms, from his pits all the way to his wrists. He watched the way Odysseus giggled and twitched as he lightly grazed the skin. His arms shook, muscles flexing as gentle fingers passed over. "It's not eating you alive that I'm doing this to you? That you're crumbling at the hands of a God, able to do nothing but laugh and scream? Your thoughts aren't racing, wondering why I'm not ripping you to shreds?" he taunted directly in his ear, lips ghosting over the skin.

Odysseus hated how true his words were. He clenched his jaw and growled through his laughter, "Shut uhup! Just shuhut uhuhup!"

"You think you're in any position to make demands of a God?" Poseidon questioned, and even his breath tickled.

"NO! Nohoho, I wahasn't-" he cut himself off with a scream that morphed into helpless laughter when the hands moved down to knead at his belly and sides. He twisted side to side, trying to hide his face behind a restrained arm. His hair was a mess, wet and matted to his forehead. Rosy cheeks were carved with dimples, and crows feet wrinkled at the corners of his eyes. He almost looked cute, in an endearing, pathetic sort of way.

"Let me make one thing clear: I'm in control," he taunted, gripping Odysseus by the hips roughly. He yelped and instinctively bucked his hips to get away, snorting and doubling over as much as he could when he gave another squeeze.

Poseidon arched a brow and smirked down at him. "What's wrong, did I find a bad spot?" he taunted, squeezing up his sides and drilling his thumbs in the divots of his hips.

"Nohoho plehease!" he shrieked and writhed in his binding, unable to escape the relentless touch.

"What did I say about lying?" Poseidon chuckled sadistically at his own joke.

"Plehehease, just lehehet me gohoho! Ihihi'm sorRYYYY!" His voice jumped an octave when sharp claws pricked and tapped against his hips. Full belly laughs gave way to shrill giggles, and the sounds he was making amused Poseidon to no end.

"Awww, what a sweet sentiment. Almost as sweet as those giggles of yours," he teased with a sly smirk, sharp teeth peaking out from under his lip. Of course he wasn't actually complimenting him, he only said it to get under his skin. "Too bad I don't care."

Odysseus flushed and stared at him in shock. "I-I dohohon't giggle!" he tried to sound defiant, but the giggles pouring from his mouth negated the effect.

"Denial's a good look on you. Next, I bet you'll try and say you're not ticklish," Poseidon snickered, reaching a hand up to tease his neck and ears. Odysseus snorted and scrunched his shoulders.

"Nohoho!" he tried to deny, shrieking when a claw traced the shell of his ear. "Stohohop! Plehehease, juhust stohohop!" he pleaded, shaking his head.

"That's right, keep begging. Not that it'll help," he let out a raspy chuckle, cupping his face with both hands. Odysseus was forced to look up at Poseidon as he squirmed helplessly, giggling himself silly as he scribbled around his ears and neck. No matter which way he twisted, the tickling never stopped.

"You humans are so sensitive; so fun to toy with," the God mused as his hands trailed back down his body. "So easy to break," he squeezed his hips again just to watch him buck and snort. "And yet, you all think you can win."

"Ihihi'm sohohohorry! I-it wohohon't hahappen again, I swehehear!" Odysseus bargained futilely.

"Oh, but it will. That's just the way it works," Poseidon explained, digging his claws into his thighs. Odysseus gasped and jerked beneath the threatening touch. "You'll get yourself into trouble and try to work your way around it, but you'll always lose." He slowly scratched down strong thighs, earning a ticklish scream and a violent twitch.

"Fuck! Noho, you cahahan't! N-not thehehere!" he begged through growing hysterics. His words only made Poseidon more curious as he began squeezing up and down his legs.

Odysseus squealed and jumped away from the touch, pressing against the wall of the cave and kicking out futilely. Poseidon looked him up and down with a hungry, scrutinizing gaze, evil smirk twisting into a sharp, dangerous smile.

"Awww, what's the matter? Too ticklish here?" he asked, raking his claws down the captain's thighs as he knelt before him. That alone drew out a panicked bark of laughter as he twitched away.

"N-no! Ihihi mehean- shihihit, stohohop!" he cut himself off with a snort as sharp claws delicately traced his inner thighs. Breathy giggles became hysterical laughter as the soft scribbling got faster and added more pressure. He threw his head back, practically dancing in place as he tried to escape the unending torture.

"Just look at you, barely able to speak. How pathetic," he taunted, scratching higher up his legs, enjoying the way his voice changed pitched. He pinched back down the muscle, drawing out a few giggly snorts. Poseidon couldn't help but comment on it.

"Those are some pretty funny noises you're making. I think I'll stay right here," he kneaded deep into his thighs, and Odysseus practically screamed.

"NOHOHO PLEHEHEASE! IHIHI'M SOHOHORRYYYY!" he threw his head back, cackling wildly. His legs gave out, but he was still held upright by his chains. His legs kicked and writhed in Poseidon's grip, his sanity slipping away with each passing second.

"Good," he growled, raking his nails down his inner thighs just to make him squeal. "But I'm not stopping any time soon. By all means, whine and beg, but don't expect it to help much." From this position, his bare, squirming stomach was right in front of his face. He grabbed Odysseus from behind, making sure he couldn't move away before biting his hip.

He let out a piercing shriek, followed quickly by frantic hysterics. He writhed and twisted in his hold, tugging on his arms with all his might. His vision went blurry as tears streamed down his cheeks, and he closed his eyes so he didn't have to watch his own torment.

Poseidon grazed his teeth across delicate skin, stretched taught over the bone. He nipped and nibbled at his hips, allowing his tongue to flick and trace the contours of his waist. That really seemed to drive him mad, so he continued nibbling along his hips and belly while his hands returned to his thighs.

Odysseus wailed in ticklish agony, babbling incoherently for mercy. He couldn't form a single coherent thought, legs trembling from the relentless onslaught.

"Ohoho shihihit- NOHOHO! FUCK- NOHOT THAHAHAT!" his arms strained to hold him up, leaning against the wall for support. Poseidon drilled circles where his hips and legs met, scribbling along the backs of his thighs. His back arched and he tried to jerk away, only for his leg to be trapped under a strong arm.

"Why, is this a bad spot?" he cooed, scribbling behind his knee all the way up the back of his thigh. His muscles quivered with every pinch and stroke, and his voice periodically cut out.

Poseidon slowed his touches to give him the chance to breathe. Odysseus gasped for air between helpless giggles, legs writhing in his grip as his claws scribbled against the sensitive skin. He hiccuped and snorted when he'd zero in on a particularly sensitive spot.

"I asked you a question," he growled, going back to clawing mercilessly, just to remind him how much worse it could be. Odysseus screamed and thrashed.

"YEHEHES OHOHOKAHAHAY? STOHOHOP!"

Poseidon smirked as he slowed back down, focusing on his right leg. Odysseus whined and snickered as the feather light touches clouded his brain. It was almost worse than when he just dug in. At least then his voice didn't sound so shrill and broken.

"Plehehe- staha- stohohohop! I-I cahahan't!" he pleaded through breathless giggles.

"You humans are hilariously pathetic. So weak and soft, unable to hold out against even the softest of touches," he taunted. Odysseus was limp and pliable, yet still struggled, providing a map of his most ticklish spots.

He continued the light scribbling, spidering his way to the tops of his knees. Odysseus snorted and kicked, laughter jumping up an octave. Poseidon smirked, meeting his eyes to flash him a smug wink before digging in. He clawed ruthlessly at his knees and the tops of his thighs, relishing in the resulting shriek.

He leaned in to whisper in a deep, threatening tone, "I hope you didn't think we were done. There's so many places I haven't even tried. And I plan on keeping you here as long as I like."

"What? N-nohoho y-you cahahan't just do thahat!" Odysseus insisted, eyes wide with fear as he frantically shook his head.

"Actually, I can. And there's nothing you can do about it." He grabbed his feet, wiggling his fingers dangerously close to the soles. "Nothing but laugh."

Odysseus was once again sent spiraling into hysterics, forced to accept his fate.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.

You ask for a part 3, you shall receive 😈 I’ve had a few inbox’s and comments asking me for this so I’m happy to continue hehehe, do you all wanna see this series as pure smut or a mix? I think there’s only so much sex I can write 😭😭 this one is a mix so obviously an 18+ warning in place, but it’s not so heavy on smut in comparison to the other two parts.

@allabouthappiness thanks for asking me to tag you!!! If anybody else wants tagging in any of my work lemme know! Christian Horner throws a bbq party after Silverstone, it’s a good nice for the drivers to unwind and have some down time. High of the announcement he’d be racing once again, Daniel is obviously present and celebrating with his second family. The night is running smoothly, or so the Australian thinks, he just can’t get Christians daughter out of his head, and when she arrives later that evening the sexual tension is unbearable between the pair. In such a close proximity to being caught, will Daniel make a move? Or suffer in silence with his undeniable attraction to the younger woman…

“What do’ya want Daniel, a burger? Steak? Or my daughter?” Christian questioned.

“What?!” Daniels head snapped up in shock. “Or a hot dog?” Oh. “Uh, a burger, go on then…” God, he was so in his head. It had to stop, she wasn’t even here and Daniel couldn’t stop thinking about her. There was an odd disappointment that the pretty girl wasn’t there, a sickness deep in his stomach knowing she was at another party than here. He knew it was wrong to feel that way, but after their exchange over text the other evening, he just had to see her.

After a couple of drinks his phone felt heavier than ever in his pocket. He knew she was just a text away and remembered how she’d told him he could have her whenever. Her bedroom was just right up there, maybe when she got home, if she got home tonight, she’d drag him up there. Daniel shook the thought from his head quicker than it arrived, her family was sat right in front of him, and it felt twisted to think such sinful thoughts about Christian’s daughter.

The night grew later, and at around 1AM, Max found the wondering, drunk girl lingering in her kitchen nervously. “Hey, look who I found!” Everybody’s heads lifted in unison, the petite girl standing shyly, waving as Daniel felt his heart jump in his throat. He felt her look at everybody but him, and then, when she finally did, he looked away in pure shyness. What the fuck happened to Dutch courage? Y/n felt her eyes slowly trail across the men and their girlfriends, before they fixated on Daniel. He was fiddling with the beer bottle on his lap, scanning over the logo like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. A gentle smile followed by a slight blush grew on her face. In an odd sense she was worried he’d think she was frigid by not doing anything, but it was kinda difficult when so many people were around in her family home.

When he did look up, they caught eyes for the first time. He almost had to do a double take, especially when she started smiling, angelic and innocent, lingering over his as her body angled away, tits bouncing slightly as she shuffled in her seat. “Have you got any food left?” She then stood up, speaking to her father as Daniel felt his eyes roam over her tight little dress. Fuck. He couldn’t- he shouldn’t. Watching her interact with her family was undeniably sweet and charming, but he felt so guilty. The way he had to adjust himself in his pants ever so slightly at the curves of her body, it was so wrong but he was so hooked. An hour or so later, she’d had enough to drink to make the first move to sit next to him. She had Checo’s jumper on, nipped by the cool British night as Daniel watched them interact in borderline disgust. Christian and Geri had ventured to bed, so had some of the other men, but there was enough people still lingering to make the whole interact with her inappropriate.

“Did you eat the last kebab? Max said he’d save me one but they’re all gone.” She fell against his leg, bum scraping over his thigh, almost as she went to sit on his lap. Her body was pressed against his and her drink sloshed slightly down her bare leg causing a shiny wetness that Daniel wanted to lick clean. “Nah, kebab? I didn’t even get one of those.” The Australian answered, head turned and tilted down so they were face to face. A knowing smile grew on her face as she purposefully looked down to his lips. Daniel thought he’d have a heart attack.

“It was me…” Checo commented, coyly. “Checo!” She groaned playfully, Daniel grimacing when her attention was no longer on him. “What? You’ve got my jumper, that makes up for it!” The Mexican man exclaimed as Daniel ground his teeth together even harder. Was he being paranoid or was he flirting? He knew the Red Bull racer had a bad reputation with women, despite having a wife and four whole children at home. Daniel didn’t respect it.

“Yeah, yeah.” She shook it off, waving her hand before sipping from her glass again. “I’ll take the jumper off you?!” Checo then continued. It took everything in Daniel’s power not to roll his eyes, he couldn’t believe he was the only one hearing this. Even she was a little cringed out, she wasn’t stupid, she knew when a man was openly flirting, but Checo just had one of those personalities, plus she knew his partner, she’d never go there.

“Have it back then… I’ve got millions upstairs.” She teased, pulling it off and throwing it back directly in his face. Daniel liked that, there was no longer the smell of a man’s cologne on her, now it was only her sweet perfume that he found intoxicating. Now they were skin to skin, she purposefully brushed her arm against his, teasing as she fought for a comfortable position for her arm.

“You didn’t try a kebab then?” She turned her attention back to Daniel. “Nah, why, should I have?” He couldn’t hold back the smile the whole time they were talking. “Mmmh, they were good, weren’t they, Checo?” Despite her words being aimed at another man, her eyes were glued to Daniel. For a second or so, Checo eyed up the pair, squinting in confusion. Were they flirting or was he just super drunk? Checo just assumed the second about himself.

“Yeah… they were…”

* “See ya’ guys later.” Daniel waved to Max and Kelly who drove off in their lift back to their hotel. Kelly waved whilst Max’s head hung out of the window, sickened from the mixture of alcohol he’d been consuming all evening. From behind Daniel he felt a hand smooth over his back, causing him to tense seeing it was y/n. She looked so sexy, changed into her oversized T-shirt and shorts that he couldn’t see the bottom of. Daniel could see the press of her hardened nipples against the white material, piercings obvious as he had the most perverted thought to lift the shirt up.

“My Uber’s 15 minutes away.” He then muttered, feeling a little awkward from the silence that took over them. “Oh.” She played with the bottom of the shirt. Daniel could’ve sworn he saw shorts earlier, but he must’ve been fooled because there definitely was no material covering her thighs. Fuck, he had such easy access to her cunt, something he’d basically dreamt of for endless nights. Alone now, Daniel’s eyes fixated on the bare of her tan skin, fists balling at either side of him.

She let out a sigh, questioning how the hell they could do everything they wanted in the space of fifteen minutes. Much to her disappointment, they couldn’t. But the alcohol buzzing through her bloodstream wouldn’t allow him to leave without even the smallest of a kiss. Her hand slowly closed the door, pulling the bolt on as he gulped, blinking away, back to the floor below. Feeling himself sway, he slammed a hand against the door, preventing himself from falling. When he did he caught her fingers under his own. “You okay?” She giggled, head tilting up to him. “A little drunk.” He rubbed over his face quickly. For some reason he didn’t want her to know that he couldn’t get the thought of her sweet cunt out of his head.

“Just a little?” She teased, his hand still resting on her own. “More than a little, fuck.” He snickered as she had the overwhelming urge to kiss him. “So am I.” She giggled, wrapping her two smaller fingers over his and nudging his hand slowly down the door. Daniel’s hand moved with ease, eyeing up the movement as she lead it down to her ass. Daniel swallowed, feeling her soft skin as he gripped on her flesh, squeezing a handful of her ass gently. “Hm.” She hummed out gently, moving her hand up over his shoulder, followed by the other, almost as though she was testing the waters. Daniel nudged his face closer, dipping his head as he inhaled the scent of her perfume once more. Fuck, she smelt so good. Their faces were so close, nudging closer, each aching for contact. “Kiss me, Daniel… nobody’s here.” She whispered, trailing a hand down the back of his scalp. She’d needed him all evening, craved the close proximity between them. Now she only had 15 minutes of it? “You want me to?” Why was he nervous? She’d nodded with the slightest moan, making the first move to press her lips against his own. The kiss was gentle, soothing, it ignited a fire in both their chests.

He’d moved in closer, kissing her a little deeper, but when he heard a thumping noise from upstairs he jumped back, eyes wide in worry. “It was just the dog…” she giggled. “Oh.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. Sure enough, the door came scurrying down, heading towards his water bowl in the kitchen.

Taking him gently by the jaw, she moved her lips to the soft skin of his neck. Her smooth lips moved over the sensitive area, kissing and sucking with the lightest pressure. Daniel’s palm was back on the door, pressing to avoid the urge to just grab her body. “Touch me, Daniel.” She sensed the worry in him. “I can’t.” He shakily exhaled, penetrated by the worry that her dad could possibly come down and catch them. He wanted to, he really wanted to. “If I start I won’t be able to stop.” He admitted as she swallowed a little, smiling simply and kissing his cheek.

She pulled off, and Daniels eyes opened again seeing her ready to spin away. He couldn’t bare it, “no.” So he grabbed her arm, keeping her in place. “No, no.” He muttered, pulling them around his neck again. Fuck… he couldn’t touch her but she could- “talk to me.” Daniel borderline pleaded, closing his eyes again as the swell of her breasts pushed up against him, nipples hard against his top. “Talk to you?” She teased, pushing her hips up to his. He was already rock hard, fuck, she bet he hurt straining against his jeans like that. “Talk to me. Tell me everything you want me to do to you.. please, y/n.” He was speaking quickly now, hands now gripping at her hips as she pressed up against him.

“So I can’t kiss you… and you can’t touch me, but you wanna hear everything I want you to do to me?” She blinked back to him, a fake confusion taking over her face. Daniel nodded, dropping his head so he could look at her better.

“Why are you torturing yourself like that?” She giggled again, hearing him groan. “M’ not messing around.” A hand slid up her body, onto her neck, gripping her throat as she let out a breathy moan. Fuck, she didn’t know he had that in him. It turned her on 10x more and she wasn’t quite sure if she could cope with Daniel holding off for much longer.

“Fuck, why are you winding me up like this?” She whined, grabbing a hold of his arm. It was the first time she’d let the confident guard down, staring up to him with pleading eyes. “Please Daniel, please… please. Nobody knows…” she whispered, feeling his hand smooth up to her jaw. Daniel felt himself losing control and had to snap back into reality, gritting his teeth as he held her close. “You know I can stay quiet for you.” Her hands tan dangerously close to the top of her jeans. Daniel let out an inward moan, frustrated by how close he was to feeling so good with her. He stumbled back against the door, head looking back as she fell with him, fingertips grasping around the material of his pants.

Spurred on by his hardness she let out a gentle hum, gazing up to him again. “I can be your good girl, Daniel. If you just want me to talk to you, then that’s all I’ll do… I won’t touch.” Deep down she knew he wouldn’t resist, he could barely even look back into her eyes or he’d lose his mind.

“I won’t touch you ever again if you don’t want that.” God no. That’s not what Daniel wanted. He took her by the back of the head, holding her close as he pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling the scent of her freshly washed hair. It reminded him of the time they’d fucked in the changing room, her ass pressed against his hips, his cock so deep inside of her… he wanted it again, fuck he knew he couldn’t but he needed it.

“I need you.” Daniel told her, shaking his head as she gripped at his shirt. “Then take me, fuck, you’re making it so hard on yourself. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You’re 22.” He muttered, lips moving against her forehead. “And your dad is- is upstairs… he’s my princi-“ “And he has no fucking clue you’re down here with me.” She told him firmly, sliding a hand back down to the hem of his jeans. “He never will. It’s only me and you.” She kissed his jaw once more. Daniel felt himself losing control, again, his hand sliding up her shirt, grazing over the thin material of her underwear, over her waist and stomach. “You’ve got five minutes to do whatever the fuck you want to me, or I’ll just go upstairs and do it myself.”

“Not upstairs, do it here, do it now.” Daniel choked out, fingers curling over her underwear and yanking them down. “Please, please. I can’t touch you, I won’t, but I can watch you.” He shook his head as she bit down on her lip, enjoying the slight control he had over her. “Why can’t you touch me?” Her voice was light and airy as her black underwear fell to the floor. She’d purposefully changed into them just for him to see.

“Not now.” Daniel hushed, guiding her hand to her pussy, she felt herself, already wet, running her fingers over the sensitive bud. “I want you to-“ he cut her off with a bruising kiss. “Just do it. For me, please.”

Her fingers rolled at her words, almost falling back into the wall, but Daniel pulled her close again, holding her waist close as he could feel the slow moving of her hand. “Faster.” Daniel instructed, against her mouth, hearing her moan as she continued to pleasure herself.

“Want ya’ to make yourself cum before I leave.” Daniel shook his head, unable to get enough of her kiss. “I can’t-“ she went to whine fingers dipping in her wetness, it would never feel as his would. “Yes you can.”

“Need you Daniel, please, need you to touch me. Your fingers would feel so good inside of me.” She drunkly babbled, keeping her voice low as Daniel’s forehead rested against hers. He felt undeniably turned on, his cock was throbbing in his trousers and it took everything inside of him to not pull his pants down and give her what she wanted. “So beautiful.. you look so beautiful doing this, y/n.” He breathed out, overwhelmed by her beauty. Her lips were slightly agape and plump from where they’d been kissing, her eyes were lazily focused on him, and there was a slight knot of pleasure between her brows. Daniel kissed there once more before meeting her lips.

He’d felt something funny inside of him, not for the first time, and it wasn’t because he was drunk either. They were real butterflies, fuck, that wasn’t good- but the way she was sighing was angelic- he almost couldn’t stop himself. The alcohol fuelled his sex drive, and also his anxieties. How could they ever be together? Woah- together? Where did that come from? Daniel pulled back from the kiss, looking over her face once again. So pretty, so youthful, she had her whole life ahead of her, what were they even doing? “Daniel.” She whimpered, and he couldn’t stop. No matter what his brain was telling him, he was too entranced by her. God, he knew it was wrong, so wrong, but it felt too good to stop. “I got you.” He hushed, tilting her chin up to meet in a kiss. She felt blissful, the relief of the touch was good, but if it was his touch it would’ve been better. His hand flattened over hers, fingers on top of hers, mimicking the action, he was so close, yet not close enough.

Sneaking her hand away, his fingers finally sunk into her wetness, but it was cut acutely short when the buzzing of his phone interrupted them both. The Uber. Fuck. “Shit.” Daniel cursed as she awkwardly reached down to pull her underwear up. Her teeth sunk down into her bottom lip, looking at him through her eyelashes as he answered the phone, telling them he’d be out in a second.

“Sorry.” He whispered, leaning forwards and pecking her on the lips quicker than she could process. “See you later, Daniel…” “Fuck- I-I’ll make it up to you. Some how.”

[sorinethemastermind]

Aight so i saw this meme on tumblr where it was a therapist going "and what do we do when things go wrong?" and it had like, the list of responses and what the TDP characters would say. Soren's was "fistfight God". Could you write a small blurb of Soren trying to "fistfight God" (aka aaravos) after the death of, like, Claudia?

I am more than happy to oblige 😈 (You have no idea how many times I've imagined this scenario because apparently I'm basic and the way I enjoy characters is by making them suffer) So anyway, here you go! Prepare for angst.

 It all happened very quickly. Too quickly for Soren to do anything more than stare in horror as the body of his little sister slumped to the ground before him. Aaravos sighed, looking down at her lifeless form on the ground before him, and shook his head.

 “What a pity.” 

 And that was it. The battle continued to rage around them, as if nothing had happened. As if an earth shattering, world ending, cataclysmic event hadn’t just occurred. As if Soren’s entire world hadn’t just come apart at the seams and his heart hadn’t been ripped from his chest and stomped to pieces on the ground. In fact, most of the people around him didn’t even seem to notice that she was gone.

 But she was gone. Soren was sure of it the moment he took her small, limp form in his arms. He didn’t bother begging her to wake up; he knew it was pointless. He’d been around enough death to know what it looked like. And anyway, even if he had wanted to, there were no words left in him to say. It was like all the words and the music and the color had drained out of the world in that single moment; there for so long and yet gone in an instant.

 Because even if Claudia had been a threat, or dangerous, or doing something horrible; 

she had been there to do it. Even if she had looked at him with hatred in her eyes and told him he’d killed their father, she had been there to be angry at him. And even if she had laughed at the lot of them and stood by Aaravos’ side even when they tried to reason with her, she had been there to make that mistake. And Soren had always been able to tell himself that one day she would see the right path again. That he could help her find it. 

 But now she wouldn’t see anything ever again. And what made it worse was that it wasn’t because of some horrible spell she’d decided to cast, or some heinous thing their Dad had asked of her, or even something that Aaravos himself had told her to do. It had been because of Soren. Because, after all these years, he had gotten through to her and led her down a different path. The one he’d thought was right.

 Except it couldn’t have been the right one, because it had ended here.

 Soren didn’t cry. That would come later. Instead, he closed Claudia’s eyes, and he placed her body gently back onto the ground. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he rose, and then there was a color in the world again; red. 

 It was like a haze filling his vision as he retrieved his sword from where he’d dropped it, zeroing in on his target. As he watched, the elf, titan sized again, swatted away a group of Katolis soldiers on horseback. With his other hand he drew a rune in the air, almost lazily, and incinerated the wave of arrows coming at him. Soren gritted his teeth. He was nothing; a nuisance to this thing. This monster.

 But he didn’t care. If all he could do was annoy Aaravos, then that was what he would do.

 He ran at him wildly, joining the rest of their forces in hacking wildly at his ankles. But it was nothing to the elf; who simply raised his foot up and brought it down on them. Soren probably wouldn’t have even bothered to dive out of the way except Corvus was there, throwing himself at Soren and knocking them clear just as the godlike being’s foot came down, catching anyone not quite fast enough to evade him.

 “Soren, be careful!” Corvus panted, but Soren hardly heard him. He pushed him off, climbing back to his feet, and was about to run right back at Aaravos when something occurred to him. It was a long shot, he knew, but it just might work.

 Instead of running back into the throng of humans and elves gathered around Aaravos’ feet, Soren took off in the opposite direction. 

 “Soren, where are you going!?” Corvus called after him, but Soren paid him no mind. Paid no mind to anybody as he fought his way back out through the army of people and into clear, open space. 

 “Pyrrah!” he yelled, waving his arms over his head. “Pyrrah, over here!”

 It took a moment for the dragon to spot him, but when she did she swooped down low enough for him to leap up and grab onto some of the ridged scales that adorned her sides and swing himself up onto her back.

 “Do you trust me?” he asked her, having to shout to be heard over the cacophony below. She roared in response, and Soren hoped that was a yes, because he didn’t have any other plan.  “I need you to find me Zubeia. Do you know where she crashed?”

 Pyrrah flicked her head back to look at him, but she didn’t argue. Not that she really could, anyway. Still, he felt like he needed to explain himself.

 “It’s the only way to really hurt him.” Soren told her. 

 Pyrrah spread her wings out wider and flapped up further into the sky, hurtling past Aaravos and back towards the forest. Soren scanned the foliage for any signs of the Archdragon. It didn’t take long; it was sort of hard to hide the body of a dragon that size.

 Their original plan, the one Ezran and Callum had come up with, had involved them all distracting Aaravos long enough for Zubeia to come down and defeat him. But the problem with having an ace up your sleeve that size was that it was sort of hard to be stealthy, and Aaravos had knocked her out of the sky almost as soon as she took to it. But maybe she could still stop him, even now.

 Soren dropped from Pyrrah’s back and ran up to Zubeia’s head, trying not to think about what he was doing as he pried open the great dragon’s mouth and broke off one of her teeth, already fractured in the impact, before running back. Pyrrah looked at him with some judgment, but he honestly couldn’t care less.

 “This is for her.” he said, clambering back onto the smaller dragon’s back so she could take flight. “Just get me close enough to make it worth it.”

 Maybe the good thing about being a nuisance is that nobody takes you seriously. Pyrrah was able over Aaravos’ shoulder just close enough to make what Soren was about to attempt not entirely impossible, if still highly improbable. As she did he stood up, balancing as best he could, and then pushed off before he could think twice of it. 

 Maybe the good thing about only seeing red is that you don’t care if what you’re doing is probably - definitely - going to get you killed. Other colors might be overrated. Soren had pretty much forgotten what seeing them felt like, anyway.

 There was a long, echoing moment in which Soren was flying - except his wings were broken and the sky around him was about to realize that and send him plummeting to his doom - and then he was tumbling onto Aaravos’ shoulder, grabbing wildly at the edges of the titan’s tunic so as not to slide off. 

 The elf did notice him then, lifting a hand to flick him away, but Soren only needed a single moment. And in that single stolen moment, as the hand of his enemy came to swat him away, Soren took Zubeia’s fang and he jammed it hard into the side of Aaravos’ neck. 

 The elf howled, the sound echoing out over what seemed to be the entire world, and he stumbled; nearly throwing Soren off him just with the single motion. But he hung on to the fang where it had been stuck securely into Aaravos’ neck, and once the ground had evened out below him, shoved it in even deeper.

 He pushed it in with every scrap of strength he had left, every ounce of rage and loss and pain that filled him. Every bleeding shade of red that filled his vision. And then the elf was tumbling down, and Soren lost his grip, going flying into the air.

 Some people say that their lives flash before their eyes when they die, but that isn’t what Soren saw as the ground rushed up to meet him. Instead he saw Claudia; small and laughing at some stupid joke he’d made, telling him in detail about some spell she was learning, heaping enough pancakes onto her plate to feed ten people her size, falling asleep on his shoulder, pulling a goofy face at him and cracking herself up.

 And she wasn’t red, she was every color she’d ever been.

[dear-mrs-otome]

Would you please share crumbs of Jude's event? 👉👈

Yeah yeah! This goes for my other anon who was asking too...I won't go into any detail because I'm positive someone out there will do a much better job of translating but here's the super quick and dirty version, literally just copying what I was screeching to friends. see what i did there

Basically, Kate gets herself accidentally drugged shielding some woman when she and Jude are on a mission dealing with human traffickers, and she's high as fuck on this aphrodisiac stuff, just no brain cells left only horknee. Roger says she's just gotta wait it out and that someone should keep an eye on her overnight to make sure no bad side effects happen, and of course he volunteers.

Jude: he's just gonna try and get a piece -.-

Roger's like AS WOULD ANY OF US HERE and Jude's level of legit out loud just saying I'M SURROUNDED BY THE DREGS OF SOCIETY had me rolling.

Anyway, much to his surprise Kate picks him to be her monitor and he eventually gets exasperated with her not even being able to walk right, he's like I'm not standing here all night holding you up binch. You'll feel better if you just come, so here's my hand - go wild rubbing yourself on some fingers to get off.

He keeps giving her shit about her being pitiful and stuff but he never touches her anywhere else and only over her clothes as she comes a couple of times, and Kate finally implies that's why she picked him, because she knew he'd never take advantage of someone in her state. Jude teases her about how convenient it is to be able to blame all this sluttery on the drugs but he gets very serious (SOFT FACE ALERT) and tells her he's just yanking her chain - he knows she's not the sort of girl to give herself away so easily.

It's hilarious but also weirdly gentlemanly, and he helps her mentally get through it by commiserating with her rage that some guy is out there manufacturing this horrible stuff and putting women through what she's suffering through, and he basically says hang in there and after this is over how about you and I make sure we track down that fucker and give him hell 😈

There's a pretty amusing scene after the night ends, some time later when they HAVE caught the guy, and Kate's celebrating. Jude's confiscated all the aphrodisiac and taken over the supply lines, and Kate asks what he's gonna do with it, and he tells her he's gonna sell it. She's like WHAT but he very logically explains that if he doesn't, someone else will step up to make something possibly even worse, so he'll dilute it and control distribution safely (ostensibly to hopefully keep it safer) ((Jude for legalized marijuana amirite))

But then the shithead offers to sell her some with a sly grin and Kate's just difjfjfjdjd No NO THANK YOU

Jude: you sure? You SEEMED like you were enjoying yourself ;) leaving Kate just -.- And then he's basically like, eh i wouldn't mind being with you I guess your O face ain't so bad and poor Kate is left kind of like he's joking right? RIGHT? because if he isn't god help me and my poor heart

ANYWAYS...like I said, it was all kind of very twistedly chivalrous, and it really reinforced again that Jude's a dick but an equal opportunity one, he's never a dick to Kate because she's a woman. He drinks his respect juice, especially for exploited ladies it seems, even if he shows it strangely at times.

[sapphic-agent]

Can you please get into how much the fandom demonizes Rei? Like, I’m not disagreeing that she wasn’t the best mother. But people really turn this woman (who is financially, socially, AND emotionally dependent on her husband and Clan!) into some abusive mother who WANTED to burn Shoto’s face! When it’s obvious that she was begging her mother to take her away from the house because she was too stressed out from Endeavor’s influence and Touya’s death!

I don’t know, I just think she’s not a perfect mother, but nobody can be a perfect mother. She clearly did her best with what she had, and who would’ve believed her if she said Endeavor was an abusive husband and father? The police? Other heroes? No! I bet Endeavor would’ve claimed that SHE was the terrible parent and that she was suffering from PPSD (which, she probably was, four kids, two of which were born when Endeavor started getting obsessed with overcoming All Might? She definitely had that) and she would’ve ended up in the hospital no matter what.

Let's talk about it😈

So I was actually skimming through the manga where Shoto mentions this. He says that his mother was pushed and pushed by Endeavor until she just broke. And I love this because Shoto understands that his mom was in a shitty situation and never intended to hurt him. Unlike this shitty fandom, he's aware enough to see who was the abuser and who was the one who made a mistake.

Let's go over Rei's past for a minute. She:

Grew up in an environment that was at the best neglectful and at the worst abusive

Was sold like an object (and yes this is canon, the Himura Clan canonically sells their children it was a forced marriage, not an arranged marriage)

Married Endeavor and had Touya at 18

Already, she was dealt a shitty hand. Endeavor is also four years older than her, so he was 22 while she was only barely an adult. Even outside her being bought by him, there's a huge power imbalance here. Even if he was polite and nice in the beginning, she was at a major disadvantage in their "relationship."

One of my gripes with Horikoshi and the later parts of the manga is the retcon of the Todoroki past. How Shoto tells the story and how it's portrayed later are very different.

In Shoto's version, Endeavor hit Rei for defending him from Endeavor. In the Touya flashback, she tripped. In Shoto's version, Endeavor only saw his children as means to an end. In the Touya flashback, he's portrayed as caring about them. In Shoto's version, there's a menacing and villainous aura surrounding Endeavor. In the Touya flashback he's portrayed normally.

And this is done to make Endeavor look more sympathetic. Which is bad not only because he was an abuser who doesn't deserve sympathy, it also antagonizes Touya and Rei in the process.

(People could argue that Shoto's love for his mother and young age make him an unreliable narrator. But to me this is dismissing the victim. Shoto might have been young, but he recalls enough to tell it in excruciating detail. It was a huge part of his life and writing it off like that does him a disservice)

So there are two instances specifically that people demonize Rei for.

1. Shoto's Burn

Now this is the one that is her responsibility. My thing is though... No one ever said it wasn't? Least of all Rei herself. Once she saw Shoto again, she immediately apologized. During the event itself, she realized what she did and broke down and tried to fix it. She also spent 10 years in asylum paying for what she did (which is more consequence than Endeavor faced btw).

The thing no one seems to acknowledge about this is that this didn't come from nowhere. She didn't do what she did out of cruelty or hatred towards her son. She did it because Endeavor had abused her to the point of insanity. To the point where even seeing them in her kids' faces caused her to have a complete mental breakdown. Which is understandable due to the physical, verbal, financial, and sexual abuse he was putting her through.

You know, there's an irl story like this. A woman was suffering from severe PPD and other mental issues after having four kids I think it was. Doctors and everyone repeatedly told her husband that she souldn't have more kids. He didn't listen (I'm not sure if SA was involved here but I'm inclined to believe it was) and they continued to have more. Eventually one day she snapped and killed her children.

PPD is seriously dangerous when it's left untreated, even worse when that isn't the only thing going on. Rei was no doubt suffering from the ramifications of that, but on top of everything else Endeavor out her through I can't believe she didn't break earlier.

2. Touya's Situation

It baffles that people find it in themselves to blame Rei but feel sympathy towards Endeavor over Touya.

Because on top of every instance of abuse I mentioned above, Rei was also taking care of four kids completely by herself. That would be hard even without her own and Touya's mental issues.

From the manga panel I provided, she was the only one between her and Endeavor taking Touya's mental well-being seriously. She knew how having more kids would affect him and she was right. She was the one who had to deal with Touya lashing out when Endeavor ignored him (which also contributed to her breaking down and burning Shoto due to Touya emulating Endeavor).

Rei is a character who's been judged so unfairly. Partly because Endeavor fanboys, partly because Dabi/Shoto fangirls, and completely because of the misogyny that runs rampant in this fandom. She deserved so much better.

I have a fic giving Rei the justice she deserves if anyone's interested. It features my OC who happens to be Rei's quirkless younger sister. Give it a read if you want

[alice-chester]

Avencae soulmate au

Or more like unconventional soulmate au. I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the soulmate trop. One the one hand, it's cute and who doesn't like the idea of someone made for you. On the other hand, I think it's so much more incredible when you choose each others despite the universe not matching you together. Which is why my favourite soulmate trop is one where they are actually not soulmate. So here we are.

Avencae + Dan Heng angst (by now you must have realised that I love to make him suffer. I love Dan Heng, but I also love to hurt him 😈)

In the universe, soulmates exist, but not everyone has a soulmate. While it's not rare, it's uncommon enough that people just tend to live their lives without thinking too much about it. People recognise their soulmate the moment they meet, an instinctual feeling.

All high elder has a soulmate, so Dan Heng knows he has one. Dan Feng's had been Blade, but that didn't mean he was Dan Heng's. When he meets Cae for the first time, he knows he is his soulmate.

At first, Dan Heng is just happy it wasn't Blade. But as he got to know Cae better, he really developed feelings. Which wasn't surprising since it's common knowledge that soulmates are always romantic. Dan Heng and Cae never talk about their soulmate bond (but Dan did tell the astral express crew), and pretty much act like close friends. But the fact that soulmate always ends up together is also common knowledge. They're just taking their time, and Dan is very pleased with a slow courtship.

The thing is, Cae never felt the soulbond. The first time he met Dan Heng, he felt nothing special (maybe the Stellaron hid the bond, or maybe he literally destroyed it. Once one recognise their soulmate, the bond is not felt again until the bonding ceremony is held). People also tend to forget that Cae was born yesterday, he doesn't know all this common knowledge. And while he does learn about it later, since he doesn't recognise any of the signs of having a soulmate in himself, he just assumes he doesn't have one. And that's that.

On the opposite side of the high elder of the Vidyadhara, Avgins never have soulmates. It is the gift of their goddess, so they can choose to be with whoever they want. This is a blessing Aven never resented to have. The tragedies of his life would have been worse had he had a soulmate. And now that he had experienced wearing chains, he had no wish to shackle himself with the destiny's chains. If he were to be with someone one day, it would be on his own terms. His own choice.

And that is exactly what happens with Cae. At first, he is just curious about the Stellaron bearer, and he will fit in his plans. But as they start to know each other, as they become closer, Aven start to fall more and more.

Cae also finds himself endeared to Aven. They are not so different, he finds. Both are struggling to fight the road that seems to be paved for them, with little success. They have both a strong opinion about free will and making their own choices. He also cannot deny he likes the attention and the gifts. People do tend to give him things, but it's often miscellaneous items, or something they had. He treasures all of them, but having gifts especially bought for him. With HIM in mind when selected. It makes him feel things.

There is also a part of him that is thrilled by being the only one Aven is so open to. Even if Ratio and Topaz might know many of the things Aven confess to him. Cae know Aven wouldn't have admitted them as easily to them.

Dan Heng see the both of them getting closer but doesn't say anything. He knows Cae isn't the kind of person to cheat, but he still feels a tinge of unease. Until the day he enters Cae's room and find Aven and Cae kissing. He is so shocked he turns away without them noticing him.

But later, he confronts Cae in the archives. He is angry. He asks Cae how ge could do this to him. That he wasn't that kind of person. Cae is very confused and worried. He has no idea why Dan Heng is angry with him kissing Aven. Queue Dan Heng talking about their soulmate bond and Cae being like... What bond?

Time stop.

Then the explanations. Dan Heng realising that their slow courtship wasn't a courtship at all. That Cae was his soulmate, but he might not even be Cae's. That Cae loves someone else.

While Cae has to come to terms with the fact he is someone soulmate. His best friend's soulmate, who saw him as more than a friend.

Both parts, needing space to think on their own. Cae is lost. He doesn't want to talk with the crew, they were apparently all waiting for him and Dan Heng to get together.

The thing is, Cae had a similar view of soulmate as Aven. He didn't want a higher entity to tell him with who to be with. It's to close to the scripts he keeps following unwillingly. He loves Dan Heng, of course he does. But not like that, never like that. And he genuinely likes Aven. Their relationship is all new. It was their first kiss that Dan Heng spied. But he can't imagine not being with him.

[lightlycareless]

CHAPTER 31 WAS SO,,, DELICIOUS,,

they're on a date! the worst date in the world, but its a date! good(?) for them?

naoya in the parking garage trying to flirt and failing so so miserably is so... truly incredible. in any other scenario it really would've been sweet and fairly good flirting but with the full context its so. he's really oblivious here.

THE CROSSWALK?? HELLO?? HE'S JUST NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING?? like firstly y/n go OFF thats RIGHT fucking GET HIS ASS "don't fucking touch me" is completely appropriate-- but then also he just. he doesn't say anything. i was fully expecting it to come up again but he just doesn't??? can he just not process that without his entire psyche crumbling down around him or is he gonna bring that one up again later

the poor waitress. she deserved a 500% tip for dealing with them. poor lady. once again i understand why naoya is worried-- yeah, she hasn't eaten like all day! she probably looks pale and shaky as hell (this is because of you, naoya, but he wouldn't know that). totally understandable to try to insist she eats something- but there's just no way that him trying to force her to do anything is going to help at all.

also.. the zenin's would cancel his credit card/access to the bank account if he did something wrong? fucked up and pretty indicative he's on thin ice here too even though he's (undeniably) doing better than y/n. i'd imagine that's not helping put him in a good headspace for self-reflection if he knows straying too far from what his family approves of could mean losing a lot of personal freedoms (including the ability to even leave the estate, recalling what he said about replacing the car in chapter 29...)

THE LITTLE GIRL W THE BUTTERFLIES WAS SO CUTE,,, and then naoya has to swing in like "i think you're pretty too 🥺" and give her a whole traumatic flashback like. man. just be quiet. you could salvage so many of these situations by just being quiet.

and they FINALLY,, had a CONVERSATION,,, even if it was something mundane like the records!! they talked to each other without snapping or insulting or being sexist!!! we're winning so hard rn-- and is she about to drop backstory for him too?? and about the parents?? now thats a BIG step i'm so excited for them (<- is about to get emotionally devastated by the next chapter)

another beautiful chapter of my favorite horribly misfunctional couple <3 thank you for the wonderful writing and i hope you have fun on your break!!

HELLO!!! I’m so happy you enjoyed the meal 😈

I love hyping the fact that they’re on a date, and yet, it couldn’t be any further from the truth 😂 It’s like a car crash you just can’t stop looking at ahahahah

I think it’s pretty obvious by this point that Naoya does not know how to socialize without looking completely creepy/frightening. And I can’t blame him, he’s either venerated as a god, or completely dismissed and berated 💀 STILL FIXABLE AMIRITE?

The crosswalk scene… I can literally hear Y/N’s voice and the way it broke… I feel bad for her damn why am I making all characters suffer?? Who is the one character that is happy??? No one. That’s who lol not even Haruko who is like the most cheerful of them all is happy all the time. 😭

And he did bring it up in a way 🤭, with the stupid question of “Do you speak to Naoaki like that?” omg please Naoya… take that man out from your mind hahaha it seems like you’re in love with him I s2g 😭😂 but as I said, Naoya doesn’t it have in himself to do anything like that anymore, as much as he wants to yell and whatnot, he knows very well that if he does that thing he’ll just push her away—definitely. And in a way, I want him to do that, leave Y/N alone!! (yes, even if she has to eat, leave her!! She’s not going to eat with you PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE)

Also, for the credit card… I just thought it would make sense hahaha for a family as rich as theirs, I just felt like that’s the next thing they would do 🤔 I don’t recall stating Naoya to be some kind of big spender (He might be... let's be real), but I do think that the Zen’in have spent a lot of money on their wedding and all the formalities that followed suit, so for them to consistently bring problems… well, I’m sure Naobito has thought many times to just leave his son without anything to really teach him a lesson—but stopped because he doesn’t want to deal with his whiny son any more than necessary lol, but Naoya doesn’t know that 👀 so he’s out there living in the suspense of having to be careful with his actions, less he wants to lose more. Gee… HOW DOES THAT FEEL NAOYA? HMMM???

I LOVED THE LITTLE GIRL, I was so happy that happened lol I think Y/N answered to her because she reminded her of Mai and Maki 🤭 which Naoya had to obviously ruin by his unrequited comment lmao. Even if he meant it like something genuine, why… couldn’t he see how painful that memory was for her? Omg is she even his wife???????? You’re right, he could do so much better if he just kept quiet 😭

Their conversation is something else that I was looking forward too :> and while it’s from something a bit… well, different from the elephant of the room, I share your sentiment by saying it was refreshing to see them interact with one another like actual human beings… I want them to be together, HAPPY I MEAN. Oh well… if that won’t happen, we have Naoaki lol

As for the backstory, yes, she’ll also share it with him :> Although I intended it to be a combination of a “reader exclusive” + “what’s she’s willing to share with Naoya” kind of perspective, if that makes sense, I’ll try my best to define it so while writing the next chapter 🤭. And even if this isn’t as emotionally impactful, I think the ending will have you a bit like “oof, that’s rough buddy” HHAHHAHAH

Thank you so much for your support and kind words 🥺❤ I’m so happy you’re liking the shenanigans between the couple of the moment lol (dysfunctional is like an understatement for them tbh they're beyond that 😂😂😂😂😂) and it kind of pains me to have to leave, but gotta do what I gotta do… haha

I’ll do my best to have fun :>!! Which I doubt I won’t have, I’m super excited!!!

Once again, thank you so much for your continuous support 😭❤❤❤❤ Can’t wait for you to read the next chapters!! (Specifically that one…. Jkahgakskjgv) Have a wonderful week, take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[brummiereader]

🤣🤣! Dont be surprised if you see "rat bastard" turn up in a later chapter, I love that 😅❤️. He does, it's bloody annoying!

Ahh Lee you are as ruthless as me 😈. Don't anybody cross our paths, we will make you suffer before we even entertain the idea of forgiveness 🤭. They are so much fun to write, I feel like I would have such a good night out with Arthur and John ❤️. I know 🤦🏼‍♀️😅. Arthur is the last person you would pick to be in charge of something like this, but he did go easy, kinda 😂.

You're right, it needed to happen. Was probably not under the best circumstances with him being completely hammered and barely able to put one foot in front of the other, but i couldn't resist the dramatics of it 😅.

I'm glad you felt that way too. Because it's true. Tommy has yes, done some unforgivable things but he is human and a very troubled human. He hit rock bottom in that moment, and regretted everything he had ever said or done. And even though completely drunk I think he finally realised the severity of his actions. 🤭, they really are and I'm pretty sure they will always be the talk of the town!

Love Uncle Charlie, I'm so happy you enjoyed their interaction in the story too. He may be rough talking and blunt but he tells it how it is, something Tommy needed.

It was a pathetic and idiotic way of getting her to talk to him, but he will quickly learn that he's overstepped the line when Y/N goes storming in. Boundaries will be set, and Tommy for the first time in a long time will have to bite his tongue and suck it up 😏.

Thank you Lee for this wonderful reblog, I just love reading your take on this story ❤️. Sparks will be definitely flying in the next chapter with a good douse of embarrassment for Tommy too! Thanks again hun 😘.

PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART FIVE)

Summary: After your tearful departure from Small Heath, you find your way back in the town you bid farewell to quicker than expected, Inevitably back to face the very man who told you to leave. Will your unavoidable confrontation with Tommy threaten to put an even heavier strain on your already fragile relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, mentions of blood

" Fuck, fuck fuck!" you sobbed dropping your keys on the floor as you furiously wiped away your tears. With one sharp kick in frustration to the old wooden door at your current predicament you slumped down onto the cobbled floor as the clouds broke open and a deluge of rain poured down on you. Great.

" Y/N?..." You heard Polly's voice say in the darkened alleyway, her heels echoing loudly through the back row of house as she hurried over to you, holding her brolly up from the torrential rain now pouring down on the entire town. Yes that's right, Polly. You was back. Your dramatic departure filled with tears and sorrow in attempts to escape both your broken heart and Tommy's fury lasted all but one day. One fucking day. You quickly learnt upon your arrival in London after meeting with the Landlord that there had been a mistake or, what you had determined to be an absolute bollocks of an injustice. There was no letting, or at least there wasn't anymore. Greed knows no bounds and the Landlord your cousin had spoken of was no different. With little sympathy he quickly explained to you that he had let the property out to someone else, favouring their six months advance in rent over your measly one month deposit, leaving you on the doorstep of the flat you hoped you would call home with a puff from his cigar and a snide smirk as he slammed the door In your face. " Y/N?" Polly said as she helped you up from the ground, her eyes wide in confusion." You should be in London. What are you doing back here love?" She questioned as she pulled you under her umbrella, rubbing you arm up and down in attempts to warm you up.

" I was. But like everything in my life it was a disaster. I can't do anything right " you said as you sniffed back your tears bending down to pick up your keys.

" Disaster? You've only been gone twenty-four hours. What could have gone so wrong that you found yourself back in this shit hole?" She replied looking around her as she kicked a clump of mud off the end of her pristine black boots.

" Landlord had a better proposition, six months worth of rent in advance" you replied as you wrapped your hands around your body from the cold.

" Greedy bastard" she replied with an irritated huff on your behalf. "What about your cousin, you couldn't have stayed with her?"

"She's not there. Neighbour said she went to Hull on holiday. A holiday, In winter, who does that?" nobody does Polly thought to herself, especially not somewhere as bitterly windy as Hull. This was all too much of a coincidence for her liking. There was only one person that could have arranged all this within the space of twenty four hours and he was currently sat in the Garrison with her two other nephews and half a bottle of whisky in his hand. Deciding to spare you any further misery for one day she kept her suspicions to herself, but not without mentally taking note to give her meddling nephew a sharp smack to the back of his head the moment he had sobered up and the warm lull of alcohol had worn off. " I have two weeks left of rent on this place Pol. I kept a key just in case" you said turning to look up at your bedsit window. " He's changed the fucking locks on the back door, I can't get in!" you started to sob again as you looked down at the keys in your hand." Pol what am I supposed to do?"

" Come on, you'll stop at mine" she said hooking her arm in yours as she started walking you out the alleyway.

" Pol, Tommy...I can't " you said as you abruptly pulled away.

" Yes you can. You'll stop in Ada's old room. And as for Tommy, you let me worry about him. Understood?" she replied, not giving you a chance to argue otherwise as she took you by the arm once again. " I doubt you'll see him anyway love. He'll be in the Garrison until the early hours drowning in his sorrows"

" Sorrows? What's he got to be sorry about, thought he had everything made?"

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you..."

" Bewitched, she bloody bewitched you!" John slurred as he raised his glass of whisky up to the ceiling whilst he precariously tried to pour a steady stream of the amber liquor down into his mouth, half of it inevitably spilling onto his freshly ironed shirt.

"No. Y/N bewitched me. Bewitched me since we were kids" Tommy said as he slammed his glass down onto the table, reaching in his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

" Fucking hell, that good was it Tommy?" John laughed with a snort as Arthur threw a cushion at his head causing the remainder of his whisky to tip over onto the plush crimson sofa he was laying on. Polly would certainly have his head for that.

" Wouldn't fucking know anymore, it's been five years" Tommy mumbled under his breath lighting a cigarette as he let his body fall back into the arm chair. But he did know, he did remember. He'd thought about you every night since the day he boarded the train for France. Thought about the small whimpers he would coax from your lips as he rocked his body into yours. The way he'd wrap you tightly in his arms after as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the gentle sounds of you breathing as his own eyes became heavy, and he joined you in peaceful dreams. Now all he heard was the sound of shovels on the four walls of his room, reminding him of what he had lost, what he had endured in those lonely nights away from you. Not that he would admit it of course.

" So what's your plan Tom?" Arthur said as he looked down at his drink, swirling the amber liquor from side to side before downing it. For once, he was the lesser drunk out of the three. Polly had given him strict instructions to go easy on the whisky and watch that Tommy didn't drink himself into oblivion. What Polly really meant was to not drink at all, but all Arthur heard was " go easy". And he had, albeit within his own limits before he too was too drunk to stand and ended up as hammered as his two younger brothers.

" Bloody Plan. I don't have a plan" Tommy lied as he stood up, leaning his arm on the mantle of the fire place to keep himself steady as he looked into the flames.

" You not going to London after her then?" Arthur asked as a heavy feeling of guilt started to sit uncomfortably in the pit of Tommy's stomach. The truth was Tommy did have a plan, one that had started to play on his conscious like the many other things he had added in the last twenty-four hours.

" She won't be in London for long" Tommy replied as he flicked his cigarette into the flames.

" Jesus Tom, what you done now?" Arthur said as he stood up, handing him the bottle of whisky to further dull his guilt.

" Something I'll regret no doubt" he said taking the bottle, intent on finishing its contents before Arthur grabbed it back. Pulling out your gold watch from his trouser pocket Tommy rubbed his thumb over the front, the wear and tear of the years he had kept it by his side more noticeable the longer he looked at it. " Fucking women eh?" Tommy said as he cleared his throat placing the watch back in his pocket.

" Your fucking women. You don't half pick 'em" John replied as he sat up rubbing the back of his neck as he placed a cushion over the whisky stain beside him, hopeful Polly wouldn't notice.

" Nah, Y/N was an angel" Arthur said resting his hands on his stomach as the four glasses of sharp liquor started to weigh down his heavy eyes." It's the other one I didn't get. You had it all Tom, what the hell was that?"

" To piss Y/N off" Tommy said shamefully when the front door creaked open and you and Polly walked in from the rain.

" To piss me off?..." You said, standing their stunned having heard the entirety of their conversation.

" Y/N..." Tommy said stumbling your name out as he turned to face you, his eyes wide at the realisation you had heard his spiteful confession.

" What the bloody hell are you lot doing here? You're supposed to be in the Garrison" Polly said as she shook the rain from her umbrella, her eyes darting between you and Tommy and the death stare you was sending him. It was all about to kick off.

" Grace was to fucking piss me off?!" You shouted as you marched over, grabbing the bottle of whisky from Arthur's hand and launching it in Tommy's direction.

" Jesus fucking Christ!" John shouted as he jumped out the way, dodging the bottle that landed on the floor beside him as a barrage of other objects came flying Tommy's way.

" Y/N, darling, I didn't mean it like that..." Tommy attempted to say with his hands out as a vase of flowers landed on him, gashing his arm. "Fuck!" he yelled as he looked down at the shard of glass lodged in his skin.

" She got you good there Tom" Arthur chuckled, amused at the fact his little brother was finally getting his dues. " Stay still" Arthur said getting up as he rubbed his hands together ready to play the surgeon. Looking sheepishly over to you Tommy watched as you turned around and stormed out the house.

"Y/N wait!" Tommy shouted as he pushed his brothers hands away, pulling out the piece of glass stuck in his arm with a loud grunt. " Y/N it's pissing it outside, come back in!" he yelled after you as he ran through the living room, stumbling over the edge of the coffee table in the process. Drunk, one arm bloody, hair disheveled, he looked a mess, a desperate pitiful mess.

" Fuck off Tommy!" you shouted, arms crossed as you walked rapidly down Watery Lane.

" Y/N I'm sorry alright! I'm fucking sorry!" He yelled back in the middle of the street, awakening the whole neighborhood as the rain continued to violently pour down on the small town. " I thought it was you. Isaiah, Kimber's men...what, what else was I supposed to think?" he said coming to a stop as you continued to ignore him." You started all this you know, five years ago when you broke my heart!"

" Shut up, shut the fuck up! You screamed as you span around, storming back to him having had enough of hearing the same broken record non- stop for five years. Coming face to face with him, Tommy took a step back. He had never seen you this way, this angry this furious, the softness of your face replaced with a rage he had created. "Have you ever, ever once stopped to think that when you left me on that platform when you didn't look back, you broke my heart too!"

" I did look.."

" Shut up Tommy, just stop!" you cut him off unwilling to entertain anything he had to say as the whirlwind of anger stormed within you.

" Y/N" Tommy said reaching his hand out for you that got quickly slapped away by your own.

" I may have broken your heart first Tommy but every day since you have broken mine over and over again. I waited Tommy, waited five years. Watched you move on with that barmaid, stood there as you accused me of stabbing you in the back" you sobbed, the bitter reality of your unrelenting devotion towards him and all the years you had wasted trying to please him cutting sharper then any cruel passing comment he had ever made." All because I loved you...because I couldn't let go" you sobbed as the anger that had been building in you rapidly left, leaving you stood there deflated.

" Sweetheart please.." Tommy pleaded hearing the hurt in your voice as he gently cupped your cheek, slowly moving closer to press his forehead against yours.

" I'm not your sweetheart anymore. I'm done Tommy." you cried turning around as Tommy's hand dropped from your face.

" Y/N!" Tommy shouted, watching you walk away as he stumbled forward slipping over the wet dirt covered ground, the half bottle of whisky he had drunk dulling his usually sharp reflects. " Have a look everyone, take a good fucking look!" he yelled watching the neighbours curtains twitch from behind their windows, his yelling bringing the whole street's attention to the commotion he was responsible for. "Tommy Shelby on his fucking knees begging, happy now Y/N. Y/N!"

" Bloody hell, get up Tom. You're making a fucking scene" Arthur said looking around the street as him and John pulled him up from the ground.

" How much has he drunk?" Polly said storming over with Tommy's coat as Arthur and John held him up.

" I don't know half a bottle, maybe more" he replied as he brushed the rain off Tommy's face." His alright Pol, ain't you Tom?"

" Arthur, I told you to keep an eye on him. He's a miserable bastard when he's drunk" Polly said looking to her nephew as she placed the coat around Tommy's shoulders.

" Would you all just fuck off..." Tommy slurred, pushing his brothers off him as he walked off into the night.

" Tommy where you going?" John called out ready to follow when Arthur put his hand out.

" Let him drink it off John boy" Arthur said watching him stumble around the corner.

" Don't you mean sleep it off?"

" Drink it off. Tommy's barely slept a wink since him and Y/N broke up"

" Best we leave him to it. The drink will force him to sleep whether he wants to or not" Polly said as she ushered her nephews back to the house. " Come on, in" she ordered them as she turned around to shut the door. " One day, just one day I'd like us not to be the talk of this town"

" Tommy, Tommy! You sick Tommy?" Curly said as he bent down to Tommy laying in a heap of hay inside one of the horses stalls on Charlie's yard early the next morning, his hand grasped tightly around another bottle of whisky he had presumably found on his way there.

" Nothing the hair of the dog can't fix" Charlie said as he bent down lifting Tommy's peaked cap up as Tommy slowly opened his eyes . " Think he's had enough of the good stuff, get him a glass of vinegar instead Curly" Charlie said as Tommy grunted at the idea of his Uncles hangover cure.

" Vinegar, I'll go get vinegar for you Tom. We'll have you back in shape in no time" Curly said as he hurried off out of the stall.

" Tommy get up, you're laying in horses shit" Charlie said as he grabbed the bottle of whisky from his hand. "You won't find what your looking for at the bottom of a bottle Tom" Charlie said as he poured its contents onto the cobbled stable floor beside him whilst Tommy watched the only thing that dulled his self-inflicted guilt slip away. " Y/N?" Charlie said as he turned the tin water bucket upside down to sit next to him, handing him a cigarette.

" Written across my face is it Uncle?" Tommy said as Charlie leaned over to light the end.

" Always did find your way back here, sleeping with the horses when you two would have it off. That and a bowl of cold water on you when she'd find you the next day" Charlie said as Tommy let out a scoff of a laugh looking down at the cigarette between his fingers. " She still comes in here. Find her siting there watching Curly brush the horses like she did when she was a kid, like when you were both kids" he said as he nodded to the bench in the corner of the stall as Tommy rested the back of his head on the wooden enclosure whilst the memories of happier times flooded back to him.

" Started when her dad died. Would bring us here to get away from her mum and Polly's sharp hand on the back of my head" Tommy chuckled as he breathed out a cloud of smoke. " Just wanted her to enjoy the quiet" he sighed rubbing his thumb along his brow as last night's drinking started to catch up with him. How long would he keep doing this?

" Times changed" Charlie said as he looked over to Tommy's eyes fixed on the bench in the corner where you'd both sit " So what did you do this time then Tom?"

" What haven't I done?" Tommy replied as he stood up adjusting his coat around him.

" Still breaking her heart?" Charlie said looking up to Tommy as he watched him pat down the horse he had for company the whole night, thankful he couldn't repeat his drunken rambles.

" Since I boarded the train for France, so I've been told"

" You were too young Tommy. You were about to go off to fight. You could have left her a widow when she was still a kid herself. But I'm guessing that's not all you've done." Charlie said as Tommy listened and let his Uncles words sink in. " Make it right Tom. She's been good to you, she don't deserve this"

" Think I ruined all chances of that Charlie" Tommy said giving up, straightening his peaked cap out as he walked out into the bitter morning mist.

"Bollocks. Bite the bullet and do what you got to do Tom, else you'll spend the rest of your life looking down that whisky bottle" Charlie said as he walked off, throwing the empty glass bottle into the cut.

"Vinegar Tommy" curly said running up to Tommy as he squinted through the fog, watching his Uncle walk off into the yard.

" Save it Curly, for when I'm really down in the dirt, ey?" Tommy said as he patted his shoulder, forgoing the idea of drinking Charlie's sharp remedy to bring him to his senses. His words had been enough. It was time for him to pay the piper and own up to his mistakes if he ever wanted to win you back.

It had been a week since your return to the town you thought you had bid farewell to and a week since you had last seen Tommy, having avoided every one of his attempts to talk to you. After a sharp word to your landlord Polly handed you a new set of keys to your bedsit the very next day. But with only one weeks worth of rent paid left, and your unexpected return ticket from London costing more that you thought it would, your savings were dwindling. Polly had offered you help even asking you to come back to the betting shop, an offer you was convinced Tommy had been the first to suggest. Declining both propositions and adamant on showing Tommy you didn't need, nor want his help you decided to look for work elsewhere, and with three job interviews lined up for today you had high hopes your money troubles would soon pass. Fixing your hat in place, you pushed a small pin into the side firmly securing it from any gusts of wind that threatened to blow it over. With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror you turned around, the smile on your face dropping and a scowl quickly replacing it at the sight of the growing flower garden currently occupying every surface of your bedsit. Seven bouquets of flower for each day you had been back, each with their own card hand written to you from Tommy himself. Fuck sake. Gaudy, flashy, over the top. Not like the beautiful posy of meadow flowers he would spend time picking for you on your birthday. You thought to yourself as you glared at them opening your front door only to be met with another ridiculously large bouquet in your face.

" 'Scuse me Mam" the young boy said as he stepped back. " Delivery from Mr Shelby"

" Jesus fucking Christ" you mumbled under you breath. You had no space for them as was frankly getting fed up with his pitiful gestures. After the relentless messages he had left you it was time to send him one final of your own so he understood exactly what your thoughts were on his grand displays of love. Pulling the card out from within the bouquet of red roses you scoffed at the message before reading it aloud.

" Roses are red..." you said without finishing the rest of the card before ripping it up and placing it back within the flowers as the young boy shuffled on his feet, his eyes quickly darting away. " Send them back Archie" you said with a huff as you shut your door.

" But Mr Shelby he..." the young boy replied nervously before you stopped him.

" Archie it's alright" You said bending down to his level as you placed your hand on his shoulder " Don't you worry about Mr Shelby, he won't do a thing. The only person he will get angry at is himself after his brothers tease him about this, alright?" You smiled as he nodded his head in reply. "Send them back at noon when Arthur and John will be there. We can't let them miss out on the opportunity to get one over on him can we?" you giggled as the young boys muddy cheeks dimpled into a grin. " Go on" you said handing him a penny, winking to him as he ran to the stairs, jumping down the rickety wooden steps two at a time. That will keep him at bay, you thought to yourself as you too headed down the steps jumping off the last one, your mood suddenly brightened again. Little did you know your scheme to keep Tommy away would only backfire when the result of another stupid idea Tommy had concocted to get your attention was about to play out.

" What do you mean the position has been filled?" You asked as you stood in front of the manager of the postal office, having only just arrived for your final job interview that day.

" Sorry Mam. The Position was filled this morning" he replied clearing his throat as he shuffled the papers in front of him.

" But it's only eleven thirty, I'm the first to be interviewed on the list" you pointed out to him at the paper on his desk. This was your last hope. The two previous interviews, well, lack of interviews were disastrous. One only lasted all but three minutes and the other place was shut before you even arrived.

" We erhh, we found someone yesterday" he said packing his documents into the draw as he quickly stood up taking the other pile of files sitting on the side.

" Yesterday was Sunday"

" Mam I'm sorry. I can't help you, the position has been filled" he said as he looked to the door not wanting to be asked any further questions.

" Shelby Company Limited" you scoffed, noticing the business card on top of the pile of documents in his hand. " He's been here hasn't he? Told you not to give me the job?" you huffed crossing your arms as you bit your bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. Your heightened emotions never failing to show themselves at the most inconvenient of times.

" He said you already have a job, he was quite adamant about it. He..." the manager replied as you put your hand up, stopping him from making any more excuses for him.

" Save it " you said wiping your eyes as you turned on your heel, heading for the very man you knew was to blame not only for this failed job interview but the two others as well. Thomas fucking Shelby. Was this his way of getting you to talk to him, for him to see you? Well he was going to get just that, and five years worth of pent-up anger coming his way too.

(Part Six coming soon!)

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[myfictionaldreams]

Day 3: Double Penetration - Steve/Bucky

Kinktober Day 3: Double Pentration -  Steve/Bucky x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, hatefucking, threesome, nicknames, size difference, choking, lots of swearing, discussion of masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, cum swallowing no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 

You couldn’t get away from them quick enough, feet aching with each stomp as you exited the quinjet into the Avengers tower.

Tony was waiting at the entryway, “good mission then?” he smirked, having already listened to the argument on the comms between you and the two assholes and Tony being a smug prick rushed to welcome you back to the building. He had also been the other option to go on the mission but nope, you had to draw the short straw and endure the suffering of the two super soldiers.

It wasn’t like you attended these missions in a foul mood, prepared to argue, you were always keen to follow the instructions given by Fury. However, like usual, the two men had nearly caused you to be compromised thanks to Steve’s superiority complex, putting himself directly into the middle of the action instead of following the stealth instructions. This meant that you spent more time fighting off people than trying to save the captors and by the time you were aiding them out of the hell hole they were being kept in, you were shattered and bruised. Especially as you were not able to heal as quickly as the other two, it wasn’t as simple as having a drink and walking it off before continuing with the action.

This led to a shouting match on the journey home, with Bucky backing up Steve’s actions leaving you 2 vs 1 as per usual. You were fed up following them around, nearly getting killed AGAIN because of their stupid decisions, you weren’t going to let them get away with it for much longer.

Dropping your bag onto the floor beside Tony, you huffed irritated, “I’m never going on another mission with those assholes ever again Stark, keep them out of my way”. Your feet couldn’t walk you quick enough as you rushed to the tower elevator, not stopping to listen to whatever shit Steve and Bucky had to say, relief easing your muscles as the doors finally closed and you were alone.

It was hours later when you were finally in bed, having showered, applied cream to the forming bruises on your arms and legs and had some shitty film on in the background.

Just as your eyes were dropping with exhaustion, did a firm knock sound at your door. Your heart plummeted in your chest, not having any energy to have a discussion with anyone right now.  “Yes? What do you want?” you asked dryly.

No one answered which only caused you to roll your eyes and release another exasperated sigh as you heaved your body from the bed, once again stomping to show your displeasure and hastily swinging the door open.

“Oh for fucks sake, what do you both want? I thought we agreed to debrief tomorrow?” Stood before you were the two men you least wanted to see in the world. Gone were their expensive superhero suits and instead replaced with matching grey SHIELD t-shirts that hug their muscles, along with some dark grey joggers, hair slightly damp from recent showers.

Bucky was the one to respond, chuckling deeply and rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension and displaying his obvious annoyance. “It’s not the debrief Doll, that’s not why we’re here”.

Moving your weight from one foot to another, folding your arms sternly across your chest as you moved, glancing between the two men you replied, “well, what the fuck do you want, I was just about to get some well-deserved sleep”.

Steve now inched forward, standing to his full height, making your neck strain back further to look him in the eye, “let us in, this isn’t a conversation for the corridor”.

For some reason his words sent a panic through your thoughts, he never spoke to you in that calm tone, maybe something had truly gone wrong in the mission and needed discussing.

Contemplating it for a moment and glancing behind you to check your room and to see it in an organised manner, you moved to the side, holding the door open further for them both to enter.

Steve and Bucky stepped in and you noticed the way both of their eyes flicked to every inch of your room, assessing it, even this pissed you off, it was your safe space they should stop being so nosey but you refrained from sighing again as you shut the door, turning to face them, leaning into the wood.

“Well? What is it then?”

Neither answered immediately, both still walking around the room slowly.

Bucky spoke first, but not about why he was here, “I didn’t have you as a book reader” he mumbled, hand skimming over the book you’d left open at your desk.

This time you couldn’t hold back the sigh and rolling of your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day, “so you’ve come to my room to talk about books?”

Steve turned to you now, pointing in your direction, “there you go again, sighing like being in our presence really is some horrific burden”.

“I mean it is, I’ve not exactly kept this a secret, Rogers” you retorted, walking further into the room.

Bucky shook his head in a condescending manner. “You’ve got a real mouth on you, you know that Doll?” 

Snapping your head towards Bucky you couldn’t help the aggressive tone as you snapped, “I’ve asked you to stop calling me Doll, I’m not one of your stupid dames from the 1920s”.

Neither men responded, instead, they looked towards one another, still wandering slowly around the room before Steve settled on the edge of the bed, a sight you never thought you would see and one that you weren’t sure how to feel about, it sent a sort of thrill through you but you shook it off as he began talking.

“You know, Stark mentioned something to us after you stomped off like a child”.

You scoffed, “fuck off Rogers-”

“Let me finish. He mentioned something that we initially shrugged off, in fact, it sort of repulsed us at first but the more we thought about it, the more it started to make sense”.

Steve left you pondering on his statement, “well? What did Stark suggest?”

You watched as Steve stood, taking strong steps towards you, distracting you from Bucky as he too stepped closer from behind. It wasn’t until they stood only a step away that you became a little apprehensive, neck once again straining to look up at the blonde.

“He suggested that we all needed a god, hard, fuck to get over whatever tension there is between us”.

You laughed. Hard. Like really belly laughed until tears were dripping from the corner of your eyes. You had also expected both of them to laugh as well at the ridiculous notion that had been presented to you but they both were watching you with hard expressions. “Wait, you aren’t joking? You can’t be fucking serious, do you really think I want to touch either of you? What a joke.”

Bucky’s cool metal hand was quick as he cupped your throat, cutting off your laughter, his grip hard enough to have you struggling against him but still be able to suck in small breaths. “What the fuck are you doing Barnes?”

Steve began tutting, “No, here’s the thing, you are going to listen to us for once”, he raised his hand to grip your cheeks so that your mouth smushed together so you reached up to hold onto his thick wrist, hoping to ease the grip he had but of course, he didn’t budge. It also didn’t help the situation that you were dressed for bed in only an oversized t-shirt and underwear.

“You have been a pain in our sides since you joined the team, but, we won’t take away that you are an asset on these missions but that doesn’t explain the reason as to why you decided to fight us tooth and nail with every single fucking thing that we do”.

Steve took a breath to calm himself before continuing, “now when Stark said his stupid idea we both brushed him off, but then we thought about it more and more. The way the tension was always thick in the air when the three of us are together, the way my cock twitches in the shower when I think about you in that uniform of yours. We all clearly just need to get things off of our chest or at least…get each other off”.

His lips smirked up as you contemplated this. But surely they couldn’t be serious right? This had to be some big practical joke… but then again, you couldn’t deny the initial attraction that you had when you’d first seen them. I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to Captain fucking America and the Winter Soldier? They were tall, handsome, incredibly strong, you couldn’t help the schoolgirl crush the first time you’d been introduced to them.

However, after spending more time with them and seeing their arrogance and self-righteousness attitude, you’d ignored that impulse that had struck through you. So no, there was no way that you were actually contemplating this, he had to be making this up.

You were about to try and shove him off again but as your eyes dropped low, you could see the very prominent and remarkably sizeable shape that had formed in his joggers, maybe that serum did more than grow them in height and strength.

Steve caught you staring at his erection, glancing wickedly up to Bucky behind you as he stepped closer, both of their bodies now touching yours so that you could now feel Bucky’s firm rod being prodded into your lower back.

Ok so they were both definitely into this and your mind was racing, images flashing through your mind as to the potential of whatever it was that they were asking for, and your body betrayed your strong willpower as arousal hummed through and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together to ease the tension.

The blonde noticed, his eyes lowering to watch before glazing back towards your face with half-lidded eyes, his pupils widely dilated with arousal.

Pushing on his wrist that was still firmly gripping your cheeks, he let go as you tried to speak with confidence, “fine, if we do this, it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop hating you guys because I still fucking do, but I’ll do whatever it is that you want to do”.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, “not quite what we were hoping to hear. It’s not just what we want to do, I need you to say it’s what you want as well, otherwise, we’re walking straight out of here and not returning and you can continue to think about us whilst in the shower, rubbing between your legs, shouting our names like our super soldier serum can’t hear between floors at just what you do after a mission”.

Your cheeks were burning hot, it had only been a few occasions that you’d done this, you just felt so wound up that you needed to relieve the tension and they both just happened to be the first people you thought of whilst masturbating.

“Fine Rogers, I want this ok? So hurry up and fuck me so I can kick you both out of my room”.

Steve chuckled darkly, squaring his shoulders as he looked above your head towards Bucky and gave a quick nod in his direction.

Bucky’s metal arm finally released your neck, allowing you to take a deep breath in for only a second before you were having his hands grip your thighs, lifting you up until you were folded up against Bucky’s chest, legs now spread in his grip. Scared that you might fall, you reached behind to grip the back of Bucky's head, pulling on his shoulder-length hair.

Steve took a step back, admiring the view before him, and without wasting another moment, he gripped your underwear in two places and effortlessly ripped them in half, chucking the offending material somewhere over his shoulder, now leaving you completely exposed to him.

“Even though you are the fucking bane of my life, I’ve always wanted to do this”, his voice was dark and gruff as he spoke, face inching forward before finally pouncing onto your moistening cunt. Your shout for euphoria made your ears ring from the volume but you couldn’t help it as he didn’t hold back at all, eating you out like a man starved.

His tongue delved deep between your folds, making sure not to miss a single nerve ending, spending specific time to push it into your eager hole, loving how he knew the exact spot to flick his tongue to have your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder. He then spent time concentrating on your clit, kneading it with his tongue, rotating in circles, sucking it into his mouth, everything so deliciously pleasurably that you were pulling Bucky’s hair harsher, shout out as it all came crashing down, the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.

Steve released your clit slowly, looking up at you with hungry eyes as you tried to regain your breathing, the man definitely knew what he was doing with his tongue that's for sure. Tapping on Bucky’s head, he understand that you wanted to be put down, slowly easing you to your feet.

“My turn”, you seductively whispered, dropping to your knees, ignoring the pinch of pain from the bruises that were on your knees from the mission as you looked up expectedly, mouth wide open and ready.

Both men eased their cocks out of their joggers, leaving the material halfway down their delicious thighs, hands tossing themselves off as they down at you.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to see you on your knees like this” Bucky explained as he directed you to his cock, pointing it in your face. You were mesmerised by the sheer size of them both, thick and long, it had your mouth watering and also cunt pulsing in anticipation.

Reaching forward you gripped the base of Bucky, making sure to hold his eye contact as you licked along the underside of his cock, wetting it before sucking on his tip and enjoying the way he sucked in a breath at the sensation.

You were only able to take half of his cock to the back of your throat before you were gagging, so you made sure to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you moved up, enjoying the salty taste of him. Reaching out with your hand, you gripped onto Steve’s cock, not wanting him to feel lonely as you were able to suck off Bucky and toss off Steve at the same time, loving the sensation of having two of the world's biggest heroes in front of you, falling apart as you used your body.

As tears started to form in your eyes due to gagging over Bucky’s length, you pulled off and started to suck Steve’s cock, alternating between both men’s cock with your mouth or hand. The duo were groaning, hands on the back of your head to hold you there causing strings of saliva to dribble down your chin, mixing with the tears that were flowing down your face from the stimulations

As you tried to take Steve as far as you could into your mouth, the other hand gripping onto Bucky’s member so that it tensed, Steve finally tapped your cheek. Pulling off him, he signalled for you to stand but your knees were wobbly from being in that position so he effectively picked you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the bed.

He placed you in the centre of your unmade bed, pulling off his clothes to match Bucky who had already stripped off. As they stood there watching you lean up on your forearms to inspect their every move, Steve asked, “who do you want first, me or Bucky?”

Smirking up at them, you responded, “why do I have to only pick one when I could have you both”. With that you turned on the bed, lying face first and lifted your arse into the air, presenting yourself to the two of them.

Bucky whistled at the sight, “you really think you can take us both?”

“Oh I know I can take you both, now hurry up and fuck me already”.

Bucky chuckled, “always so demanding Doll”, he knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling your leg back causing you to slide and then turning you so you were once more on your back. Looking down at you with an eyebrow raised he asked in a deepened voice, “What? Not going to chastise me for calling you Doll?”

Scoffing you refrained from rolling your eyes, “there's no way I’m having a go at you right now, not when you stand in the way of providing me with orgasms, Barnes”.

“Hmm”, he leaned over you, forearms resting on either side of your head, his mouth close to yours that you thought he might kiss you but he didn’t, instead he shifted his hips closer. “See, I think you secretly love that name, shall we test that theory?”

“What are you-”

Your words became caught in your throat as he began thrusting into your cunt, slowly and tentatively as to not hurt you, doing a good job at really stretching you out, feeling as if you were nearly at your max already but he kept going and going until finally he brushed against your cervix.

“Fuck” you cursed loudly, eyes rolling back now for a completely different reaction as he allowed your time to adjust until finally, his voice snapped you out of the blissful state.

“So how are you feeling… Doll?” Your pussy squeezed around his cock at the nickname, revealing another one of your well-kept secrets that you did, in fact, enjoy him calling you that name.

Bucky’s face was alight with amusement, loving that he had discovered this about you, “I had the suspicion that the name was turning you on, is that why you so desperately fought us to not call you that, was it because you were becoming aroused?”

“Fuck you, Barnes”.

“Actually, I think it’s more fuck you, Doll” he eased his cock out before sliding back in again. Bucky’s hips snapped into yours, starting off slow before building momentum, your cunt clinging to his cock desperately with each thrust.

It turned you on further to think that Steve was standing just beside Bucky watching you being fucked and with the hyperstimulation of his girthy cock and the fact that this was even happening, your orgasm came on quickly and suddenly. You only just had time to warn Barnes that you were cuming, hands grabbing onto his back as your cunt convulsed around him, squeezing him thoroughly.

Not giving you any time to come down from your high, the brunette whilst still balls deep, turned you both over so he was now underneath and you were now lying on his chest. Tiredly, you looked over your shoulder, smiling as Steve climbed onto the bed and remained behind you.

“Come on then Rogers, let’s see what you’ve got to offer”. Steve smirked at your taunting, reaching to your lips to press his fingers against them, hoping you would open them which you did, and sucked on them, coating the two digits with plenty of spit.

Pulling them out, he aimed them towards your puckered hole, easing one finger in at a time, making sure to thoroughly stretch you out, and adding three more fingers until he was satisfied that you would be able to take him without hurting yourself.

All the while Bucky had remained sheathed in your cunt, still thick and hard, you guessed that this had something to do with the serum that he could stay like this for so long. Without any further waiting, Steve’s cock brushed against your asshole, his warm tip taking its time to tease before being eased in. You felt your body trying to tense at being stretched from the second hole but you willed it to relax, and inch by inch disappeared into your hole.

Just as you felt like you were going to explode from fulness, he stopped, breathing heavily himself. “You’re so fucking tight” he muttered between breaths. The sensation was extremely intense, all of your vulnerable nerves were being touched in both the front and the back.

Steve’s hand fell into your hair once he had composed himself, pulling back harshly, effectively lifting you up from Bucky’s chest so that you had to lean your hands on his pecks whilst his hands rested against your breasts, which were still covered in your oversized shirt.

As Steve began to move, making sure to work with Bucky’s movements, you couldn’t believe how incredible pleasuring it felt, it was almost too much as each graze of someone's cock had you twitching to cum. 

It was an endless cycle of smacking hips together, orgasming hard and then them continuing. You weren't even sure how many times your pussy had convulsed around them both but by this point you had more dribble leaking down your chin and your mind was filled with white noise. The boys noticed that you seemed to be nearing your end and willed themselves to stop holding back their own orgasms.

“Fuck I’m going to cum” Steve stuttered first, pulling out at the same time as Bucky and man-handling you onto your back on the bed. You couldn’t even feel your legs, you had been well and truly fucked as the two super soldiers knelt over your face, tossing themselves off vigorously.

Noticing their plan, in your deliriously fucked out brain you managed to open your mouth and stick your tongue out in preparation for their cum. Steve was the first to shoot his load into your mouth, not missing a single drop as you eagerly licked your lips to make sure his salty goodness was drunk. Bucky followed him soon after, also cuming in your mouth but having to catch a drip with his thumb, pushing his white seed back into your mouth which you eagerly suck and drank down.

Closing your eyes, you were completely exhausted, only just being able to hear the boys beginning to redress themselves. Smiling to yourself, you managed to croak out, voice laced with tiredness, “could you both kindly fuck off and close the door behind you”.

Both of them chuckled as they exited without another word, leaving you to sleep peacefully.

[theminecraftbox]

sam and dream stuck in a confined space together. this will in no way go wrong! at least uh, at least quackity being in charge isn't sam being in charge?

/rp /dsmp

Prison Podcast But Evil 😈 @dr3amofagame

Sam and Dream are roomies! Everyone cheer!

Sam is… incredibly stressed. He responds very poorly to his lack of control. As soon as Techno is gone, he sets about trying to make Dream obey him as much as possible, by whatever means necessary.

Dream, however, isn’t going to take this totally lying down. Techno and Quackity and the state of the prison and Sam’s obvious terror have given him the first sincere bolt of hope he’s felt since the very beginning of his imprisonment. And—yeah, Sam is taller and stronger than him, and Dream’s hurt and starved, but Sam doesn’t have arms or armor either. Sam is every bit the prisoner that Dream is. Dream can talk back to him for the first time in a year.

Sam reacts with violence. Dream is not in any kind of condition to fight him. But even when things end with Dream crumpled and shaking and bloodied, Dream knows he’s just won a point. That beating was… crude. Pointless. Weak. Sam’s desperate and they both know it. Something in the air has shifted. Dream spits blood at Sam’s feet and Sam can’t just turn on a dispenser and leave.

Quackity returns. He wants the keys to the prison, he wants the revive book, and he wants to make both Sam and Dream pay. Quackity is also very stressed, because he knows Technoblade is probably on his way to wreck his shit. He needs Las Nevadas fortified and he needs the prison fully operational now rather than later, thanks.

So this means that Q’s focus is, for better or for worse, mostly on Sam rather than on Dream. Not that Quackity doesn’t hate Dream; not that Quackity doesn’t enjoy kicking Dream while he’s down (he definitely does). But Dream IS down. And Sam isn’t yet, and Quackity needs that to change. Quickly.

Quackity pulls out a diamond axe and a set of knives, and Sam breaks apart.

Quackity, and torture, and Dream, and this cell? It’s horrific deja vu. It’s too much; far too close and too far from what Sam remembers, a twisted rendition of a song he’s been trying not to listen to for a year and a half. He’s been bearing this burden all alone for so long. He wants to tell someone. He wants to tell Quackity. (He wants to tell Dream.)

So Sam spills. Stumbling over his words, he gives Dream and Quackity the truth. That he is from another future; that he was sent back; that he, all year, has been trying to fix things. He explains what happened in broad terms—that Dream murdered Tommy, that Quackity tortured him for months to obtain the book and never succeeded, and that Dream eventually escaped and wreaked ~terrible~ havoc, including that he killed Sam once and that he was going to hunt down Quackity.

“So it was for your own good,” Sam finishes, and he’s addressing both of them. “I was saving you from this. I was making everything better.”

Dream and Quackity stare at him, wide-eyed. “Quackity, please,” Sam implores, “I never meant things to turn out like that with you. Maybe I was… hasty. But we can still be partners! I can fix the prison, I can get the book from Dream, we can share it.”

Quackity flexes his prosthetic fingers on the hilt of his axe and he laughs right in Sam’s face. “You are such a fucking hypocrite, Sam,” he says. And then he swings the axe at Sam’s legs.

In some ways, Sam breaks quickly and easily. But he’s just as fast to build himself right back up again. He clings to his notions of justice and he clings to his conviction that he’s right, that his way was the only way. And that helps him stay strong, that helps him hold up under the cruelty.

Dream, for his part, is torn between ugly fascination with Sam’s suffering (and a certain crazed camaraderie with Quackity), and resigned terror of the fresh hell that Quackity promises.

When Quackity leaves them a roll of bandages and a health potion and a sneered threat to stay alive, Sam and Dream are there to piece each other back together. Dream no longer questions Sam’s skill at post-torture triage; Sam listens when Dream tells him how to breathe through pain.

[noa-ciharu]

FuuKam 40 😈

Yea, this one suits then to the T. I made... angst 😭 I wrote pure pain and suffering, forgive me anon. It's X timeline so to be expected

40 - kiss because world is ending

"In the end, you've got your wish fulfilled"

Fuuma observed his soundings. Tokyo tower was nothing short of debris and ruins. Area around followed the same pattern; nothing but destruction in sight. Embers and ash all around, wind gusted and carried scent of death in its wake. Some ash got into eyes, made them water a bit; made breathing bit more difficult. In far distance fire could be discerned. Yet no sight of humanity.

There were none left.

An armageddon, just battle has ended long ago. World was ending. But sight was ugly and rotten.

He wished for this, yet victory felt hollow.

After all, there was something I wished for even more. So much that World's fate paled in comparison.

"Quite escapistic of you Kamui", Fuuma hushed and caressed Kamui's cheek. Metallic scent of blood reeked, didn't let him pretend for one split second.

Per expected Kamui didn't respond. More precisely couldn't respond. Blood was oozing out of wound on chest, as well as countless scratches and bruises Kamui had over his body. Eyes barely open, Fuuma could tell he was struggling to remain awake. Just this time Kamui fell into unconsciousness he won't be waking up ever again. Death was permanent after all.

Fate that Fuuma wished to avoid from the very start, one he was more than willing to destroy world for, to coax Kamui into killing him if needed for - it was unfolding right in front of his eyes.

Holy sword laid beside Kamui's body; front soaked in his blood. Whether what he did to Kamui could be considered murder or suicide by proxy, Fuuma couldn't pinpoint. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it didn't even matter at this point. Only person who mattered in his world would be gone forever in mere minutes. Fuuma wished those final moments lasted for hours; instead they felt shorter than seconds.

A wish even wishmaster couldn't grant. No pain more agonizing than wishing to save loved one who doesn't want to be saved. Who doesn't recognize self-destructiveness taking hold.

You died in name of love, but there's no love here. Did you really think this would make anyone happy? Would make me happy?

Does it make you happy?

"Humans have deep capacity for selfishness inside them. Even deeper for irrationality", Fuuma murmured while leaning over Kamui's frame; voice hoarse and ragged, only moments later did Fuuma become aware of tears sliding down his cheeks.

Still he forced himself to smile a bit; after all, it would be last thing Kamui saw before inevitable demise. If he could, Kamui would probably be surprised by seeing him in such wretched state. Nonetheless Fuuma noticed his eyes widening a fraction.

"I know that the best after all"

All the wishes be granted, yet there won't be anyone to grant him his own. Irony couldn't hit harder, if situation wasn't so grim Fuuma would have laughed.

Kamui opened his mouth as to say something; instead he coughed blood. Chest raised up and down, breathing a difficult task when body was in critical condition. Life was fading out of him.

"You...won", Kamui managed to breathe out.

Meek smile reached Fuuma's lips. Whether it was sarcastic or genuine one, bittersweet or desperate one, he couldn't tell.

"No Kamui, you won"

All I wished was for you to wish to survive no matter what. I never cared about the World you wanted to sacrifice yourself for.

Gradually Kamui's eyes fell close. Fuuma was no fool to hope he would ever open them again. He leaned over Kamui's soon-to-be corpse, discerned weak yet still present heartbeat. On their left laid Kamui's sword; metal clear and shiny, proof of Kamui's inability to harm him; harm body of old Fuuma he died for wishing to return back to 'normal state'. Died for pipe dream. So cruel of you to wish for him to return to World you no longer exist in.

Cruel of you to force me to live with a wish impossible to make into reality.

Without any deliberation Fuuma picked up sword and placed over own chest. Yet doing that would be no better than Kamui's wish for self destruction. No different from all nameless people who died in name of pointless self sacrifices. Would make him a hypocrite. Kamui died so he could live, even if just in name for his soul would die in same breath Kamui would. Fuuma would respect it, even of Kamui couldn't respect his wish.

Fuuma leaned over Kamui and cupped his cheek once again. No response, no recognition. He pressed lips over Kamui's. They were cold to touch.

So many things were left unspoken between us. So many things I wished for you, yet you didn't wish for yourself.

Still, I wish you wouldn't leave this world thinking you were unloved.

Kiss ended in mere seconds. Fuuma knelt up and placed sword over bloodied one; they fell into x shape. Without Kamui here there was no point of apocalypse; noone to oppose him, noone to challenge him. Noone to look forward to seeing; noone to love. No point in anything, not even in death.

Not when he had to live in Kamui's name.

Such cruel fate. But I guess it's a fitting punishemnt.

Fuuma raised up and began pacing away from the scene. He never looked back.

[middleearthpixie]

Seven Days ~ Chapter Twelve

Seven Days -  Modern Tolkien AU

Firefighter Frerin Durin died in a fire set deliberately. But after he helps his brother, Thorin find happiness, Frerin is offered a second chance. He has to prove himself worthy by righting the one major wrong in his life. Otherwise, history will repeat and he will die for good this time. The catch? He has seven days in which to do this and isn’t even certain what his major wrong is.

At least, he doesn’t know for long. 

Syd Prescott has known Frerin since high school. She spent one night with him and then he vanished from her life. Now, he claims he wants to make it up to her, to right was he realizes was his major wrong. But can she trust him? And can he prove to her that she can before it’s too late? 

A/N - This story is the sequel to Miss Fortune, but is a stand alone story. 

And a special thank you once again to @laurfilijames for suffering with me as we lusted over pics of Mr. Gerard Butler... 😈

Summary: After Frerin drops her off, Syd has herself convinced she’s not going to see him again, but that isn’t necessarily true… 

Pairing: Modern!Frerin x OFC Syd Prescott

Characters: Frerin, Syd, Nico Zarelli, Dave Brewer, Holly Cassidy.

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,011 

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

December 8th

Wednesday

Syd bit back a sigh as Frerin eased to a stop in front of Gram’s house and eased the transmission into park. He turned to her. “So, have you thought about where you’d like to go tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow? I thought you’d want to wait until Friday?”

He grinned. “Why would I want to wait an extra day?”

“Because you’re only getting off work tomorrow morning?”

“If it’s quiet, it won’t be a problem. It’s not like I’ll be up the entire twenty-four hours. That only happens if we have a busy night. Otherwise, I sleep at the firehouse like any other night.” He reached over to trace his forefinger along her cheek. “And if it’s a busy night, I’ll push through.”

“It’s okay if you want to wait,” she told him, fighting to keep her eyes from closing at the gentle touch. It had been such a wonderful night and she hated to see it end. 

“I don’t want to wait, Syd.” His finger slowed, then went still. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Frerin.”

“What? I have. So, pick a place and that’s where we’ll go and if there’s anything else you want to do, just say the word.”

She just held his gaze for a long moment. “I’ll have to give it some thought.”

“So, give it some thought. I’m not going anywhere.” He lowered his hand and turned back to stare out the windshield. “Maybe I’m rushing things here, Syd, and if you think so, say something, okay? I mean, I know I’ve given you more than enough reason to not trust me, and I know I can’t fault you for not trusting me. But, I swear to you, I’m not playing with you. I’m not fooling around this time. I’m not doing anything other than trying to convince you I’m a decent guy. That’s all. And I don't mean the I was nice to you so you owe me sex kind of decent guy.”

She just stared at him for a long moment, her heart speeding up with the one question that had plagued her since he’d come back into her life. “But why now?”

“I—you popped into my head the other day and I just couldn't stop thinking about you. And that’s when I came by Miss Fortune’s Crystal and since then, I still can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll be at work doing whatever later on today, tonight, whatever, and I guarantee you, you’ll be on my mind.”

There wasn't a trace of amusement in his voice, no indication whatsoever that he was anything other than sincere. And he looked utterly seriously as he spoke. His aura offered up no hint that he was lying, as auras could sometimes betray such a thing. In fact, there was a bit more yellow in his aura, which meant whatever weighed him down even only yesterday had begun to lift somewhat.

“Come on,” he tugged the keys from the ignition, “let me walk you up. I mean, unless your grandmother or sisters are going to be lying in wait for me.”

“No.” She pushed open her door and climbed down, adding, “They knew we were going out and they know you, so, I suppose it’s possible. I just don’t think it’s all that likely.”

He came around the Jeep’s hood, the wind blowing his hair into dark peaks. “Ah, but I am a changed man, remember?”

“Frerin,” she offered up a long look, shaking her head, “a changed man? Really?”

“Really. You’ll see.” He draped his arm about her shoulders as they started up the front walk. “And when you do see, I promise not to gloat or say I told you so, or any of that.”

She shook her head, clumping up the front steps. “And if I don’t see it?”

“You will.” He tightened that arm about her, and to her surprise, drew her flush against him. “Because I will prove it to you, honey. You’ll see.”

“I suppose I will.” She looked down at her watch. It was quarter after eleven. “You should go.”

“Yeah, I have a couple errands to run before I clock in, so, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He bent to brush her lips with a light kiss. “I’ll give you a call when I get home, okay?”

“Okay.” She gazed up at him as he pulled back. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” 

He winked, kissed her once more, and then turned to start down the steps. She stood there for a moment, then called, “Frerin?”

“Yeah?” He turned.

“Be careful.”

“I’m always careful, Syd. I’ll see you.”

She sighed softly as she turned the doorhandle, which wasn't locked, and stepped inside as he hit the horn and pulled away from the curb. A hint of sadness settled over her as his Jeep disappeared down the street. Somehow, she had the feeling she was not going to see him again. 

“Syd? Is that you?”

“Hi, Gram,” she called back. “It’s me. You’re back already?”

“We were there a few hours and the boy was found, safe and sound save for a little frostbite. He is apparently a little escape artist.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, more or less.”

“It’s always a good thing when a lost little one is found safely. You know that.”

“You’re right, I do. Now, tell me, were you worried that I wasn't here last night?”

Syd strolled into the kitchen to see her grandmother at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. Lowering it, Gram shook her head. “No. Frerin’s a Durin. I don’t want the details of what you were doing with him, but I know you’re safe with him just the same.” She looked up then and her brow furrowed. “Or maybe not? Syd, what’s wrong?”

Syd pulled out the chair across from her and sank into it. “I don’t know, Gram. I just… I like him, you know? And I’m—I don’t know, maybe I’m just being stupid.”

“About Frerin?”

She nodded. “I want to trust him. I really do, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just not quite believing he’s changed.” She sighed softly, tracing along the outline of an apple on the fruit-themed tablecloth. “I mean, why would he change for me? We went out once and that was it.”

“Well, your sister and Thorin had a single conversation and look where they are now. Fate works in mysterious ways, Syd. You know that. Do you think you can trust him?”

Syd sighed softly. “I want to.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you think you can?”

“I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll see. He’s supposed to call me when he gets off work tomorrow. But he was going to call me when he got off work last summer, too.” A heavy sigh rose to her lips as she looked at the clock. “I’ve got to get to the shop.”

“Syd,” Gram reached for her across the table, catching her hand before Syd could stand, “what does your instinct tell you?”

“That I’m setting myself up again. Gram, he’s hot, okay? He’s a hot fireman who can have any girl he wants and he knows it. Why would he want me?”

“Why do you do that? Why do you sell yourself so short, Sydney? He should consider himself lucky to have you even consider going out with him.”

“Yeah, sure.” Syd gently pulled her hand free and got to her feet. “I need to go change.”

She didn't wait for Gram to reply, but made her way up to her room, where she closed and locked the door, and leaned back against it. Although he’d offered her a hoodie, she’d opted to just wear her own clothes home, and so changed from them into clean underwear and bra, jeans, and a cozy, oversized cream-colored fisherman’s sweater and then hurried back down to grab her keys and purse and head out to the shop. 

“Where are you?”

Frerin snapped out of his reverie when Nico nudged him sharply in the side. “What?”

“I just asked you where the remote is like twice. Where are you today?”

“Oh, sorry.” Frerin reached behind him, on the low ledge dividing the kitchen area of the upstairs part of the fire station from the lounging area, where the remote sat. “I’m just lost in thought.”

“Yeah? What’s her name?” Nico tugged out the chair across from him and dropped into it.

“Syd.” Frerin couldn't help but smile. 

“And what club did you meet this lucky lady at?”

“Nah, no club at all, my friend. I’ve known her since I was a kid. Syd Prescott. She was two years ahead of me in school.”

“Ahh… an older woman. Nice.”

Frerin chuckled. “Yeah, but only a little bit older. Anyway, I’m just thinking about her, is all.”

“Uh-oh, you’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“The you want to run off with her look.”

Frerin chuckled. “I’m not thinking that far ahead yet. We’ve been out twice and I’m on shaky ground with her.”

Nico’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why? What’d you do?”

“Oh, man, I don’t want to get into it.”

Dave Brewer came up the stairs and made a beeline for the fridge. “Get into what, Durin? You in trouble?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I think I might be.” He sat back in his chair and looked up at both men. They’d worked together the entire time Frerin had been with the department and aside from Thorin, there was no one else Frerin trusted more than the men and women of Engine Two/Ladder Two. 

“What did you do?” Dave turned his chair backwards before sinking into it and rested his chin on the back. “Give over and tell us.”

“I bumped into her last summer, at Darcy’s.”

“Oh…” Nico’s eyes widened and lit up to a certain degree. “The hot little redhead you couldn't stop staring at? That one? That’s Syd Prescott?”

“Yeah,” Frerin smiled, “the hot little redhead.”

“Her family owns the spook shop, don’t they?” Dave asked, looking from him to Nico and back.

“Yeah, I think so.” Nico nodded. “Not an ugly one in that family either. Damn… I’m jealous, Frer, I really am. She was fine.”

“You should be.” Frerin grinned as he got up and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Anyway, she and I spent the night together and I swear, I meant to call her, but—”

Nico and Dave both winced at the same time and Nico said, “Ouch. Wait… was this before Lisa or during Lisa?”

“Before. And we’re not talking about her. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Uh-oh,” Dave said in a low voice, “he sounds serious.”

“He is serious,” Frerin told him, setting his coffee mug on the table. “I fucked it up with Syd, then started seeing Lisa, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“What’s going on?” Holly came up the stairs. “What did you do this time, Frerin?”

“Nothing. That’s just it. I’ve got some serious making up to do to Syd because I know she’s just waiting for me to disappear again and I am not letting that happen.”

“Holy shit, you sound serious,” Holly said, pulling up a chair as well. “And you better be careful she doesn’t put a hex on you or some shit like that.”

Nico snorted. “They aren’t witches. They’re gypsies.”

“Hey, watch it,” Frerin growled. “Enough with the gypsy talk, got it?”

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yeah, well, either way. Let’s lay off the word gypsy, okay? It’s an in—”

The alarm went off and all conversation was forgotten as they jumped up from their seats and hurried down to the main floor, where their turnout gear hung. Shoes were kicked off, boots and trousers tugged on and fastened into place, coats, helmets, shields were grabbed and it was only a matter of minutes before Frerin climbed into the ladder truck with Nico and they roared out of the station. 

[dmagedgoods]

2 and 6 for Daeran and Sal pls :)

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? They both wake up at night with a certain frequency, suffering from nightmares and flashbacks of past happenings. Salvadore either dreams about his childhood when he was tortured by his family or loses himself in guilt after a dire mistake that has cost some lives of those he’s responsible for or finds himself back in Areelu’s laboratory, captured and experimented on. He’d prefer to try and not to wake Daeran over it, but it usually happens anyway, causing him to complain about needing his beauty sleep, concern clear and strong in his bright green eyes, his expression revealing his attempt to sound irritated as the obvious lie it is. Salvadore brushes it off. “It was nothing.” – Fear and pain still heavy in his chest. – “And you are right, you need your sleep or you’ll be insufferable tomorrow. – Even more than usual.” Daeran pulls him into a tight embrace, his voice quiet in the darkness: “Tell me about it.” And Salvadore does, allowing himself to be held and protected by his arms and warmth and care. Daeran listens, stroking him gently, telling him that he won’t allow any harm to come even close to him ever again, managing to lighten the mood even then in his unique way of just making anything so much easier to bear. He will keep his halo shining for the night, knowing how much Salvadore loves the light. When it’s Daeran who wakes up, haunted by my memories of his dying mother, the rampant disease in the estate, the Other controlling his life, all the death around him, Salvadore wakes from his tossing and turning, gently touches him and calls his name until he opens his eyes. Daeran rarely likes to go into details when he’s asking if he wants to share what the dream has been about. Instead, Salvadore chases away the fears by holding him close as well, talking to him softly, making sure he knows how safe and intensely loved he is. Sometimes he tells a little story, the way Eneas did to him when he has been a boy. If sleep stays out of reach, Salvadore reads to Daeran or plays his violin for him. Or – in the worst of cases – they get up in the middle of the night and cook a far too early, far too abundant breakfast. 6. Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other? What a nice hurt/comfort question! I imagined the scenario in many forms, imagined the Other to threat Salvadore’s life without his knowledge instead of how things went in the game – or another entity later, spotting the promising portal Daeran is, maybe one with a sadistic pleasure in ruining his life – and Daeran actually trying to keep Salvadore at distance out of agonizing fear, needing to hurt him, needing to do the very worst to him to keep him safe. I love to picture Salvadore running against walls, begging, broken, on his knees even, incapable of believing that all of it only has been a game to him, while Daeran stays cold, smiling at him in condescending cruelty, playing his act so well, because it’s this or Salvadore’s death. Mmh, maybe I should write the fic. 😈

[pansy-chic27213]

Sanders Sides Encanto AU

Basically, this is just how I would cast everybody. I’m basing this more on personality and the Sides’ current struggles, rather than aesthetic or Gifts.

I would love to hear your thoughts; do you agree? Disagree?

🖤 Logan as Julieta

Both of these characters are the caregivers of the family. Logan’s role would be very similar - more along the lines of fixing things. He’s the one that people turn to for most solutions to their problems, but it’s a lot of stress to always come up with the perfect answer.

💙 Patton as Pepa

I feel like this one’s a little more obvious because they both have to do with emotions. I would even give Patton the same Gift, of having his emotions affect the weather. Instead of being told to keep things sunny, he does that to himself, out of guilt.

❤️ Roman as Luisa

Like Luisa, Roman feels that he needs to always be strong and protect his family. Further, he also struggles with insecurity and how he can be of worth if he’s not helping his family. An extra layer of angst for this AU would be that, because of how much the family relies on his strength to do chores and stuff, he rarely has time to pursue his creative passions.

💛 Janus as Isabela

This one may seem odd, but Isabela spends most of the movie lying about how she feels. She pretends to be perfect and to want to marry Mariano. Likewise, I think Janus would represent this two-faced dilemma. He acts as the perfect face of the family, and so he can never truly express his more mischievous desires. In this AU, I would have Janus have Camilo’s gift of shapeshifting, because I think that would be really interesting to explore.

💚 Remus as Bruno

Misunderstood Rat Man? Says things that people don’t want to hear? Has some odd habits? Spends most of his time hiding away/being shunned? 👀

I would still want Remus to have Bruno’s Gift of prophecy, but I think the AU would take more of the angle that constantly seeing negative visions slowly drove him a little crazy, which was worsened by his family’s rejection of him. With some love and positivity, some of his more negative habits would fade away.

💜 Virgil as Mirabel

At first, Virgil doesn’t seem to have a gift. He just seems like this negative force that makes things worse all the time. He’s the scapegoat that takes the blame for any mishaps in the family.

In reality, Virgil has a gift of seeing the truth. I don’t know if this would be a magical Gift from the miracle, or something he has learned. This gift is affected by his negative interpretation of things, but over the course of the story, he would learn how to see things for how they are and how to stand up for what’s right.

But if Virgil is Mirabel, then who is Thomas?

💖 Thomas as Abuela 😈

(The little evil face is me smirking, not me saying that Abuela is evil)

In Sanders Sides, Thomas questions himself and pushes himself to be a perfect “good person” and functional adult. He’s not intentionally hurting any of his Sides, but he does put a lot of pressure on them.

Likewise, Abuela has suffered serious trauma that she never had time to process and has been trying to prevent similar things from happening to her family. She builds up walls to protect those she loves, without realizes how those walls and restrictions spread the trauma to later generations.

This is why I would cast Thomas as the head of the house and have him unintentionally put pressure on each of the family members to be perfect. Over the course of the story, he starts to realize that what he’s been doing may be wrong, but the confrontation with Virgil gives him clarity and a more clear direction for how to be better and mend things in the family.

💕 Again, I’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas! I know that a lot of the family members got left out because there aren’t as many characters in Sanders Sides. Would you bring in some of Thomas’s other characters to fill those roles? I’m just really excited about this idea! 💓

[cloudlessly-light]

*Kneels at your feet*

May a peasant request a prompt where Emily sends Hotch DIRTY messages all day at work and since Hotch can’t do anything about it Emily makes him suffer? And then ofc he lets her know how much trouble she caused him once they get home 😈

If I didn't know who you were I'd be concerned LOL. Hope you like it you peasant!

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Smut, sexting, bratty Emily, dom Aaron dom/sub undertones, choking, orgasm denial/control, rough, mentions of impact play (paddle) 

Emily sighed as she laid back on the bed, towel around her body and already bored. She had been out of the field almost two weeks, a concussion leading to her spending her days either on the couch or on the bed. But she was going back to work on Monday, a long discussion with Aaron and the green light from her doctor finally leading to her being allowed back in the field. 

She grabbed her phone and smiled to herself, she might as well have some fun if she was going to spend the day alone at the house she and Aaron had bought together. 

What are you wearing?  

You aren’t supposed to look at screens. Came the reply less than 30 seconds later. She rolled her eyes at her fiancé. 

There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t do but do anyway. Like sucking you off on the jet. 

Aaron stared at his phone for a good ten seconds, his eyes glued to the text from Emily. He knew that she was bored, had been all week but she hadn’t done anything like this. Before he knew it his phone buzzed again, this time a picture of Emily barely covered by a towel on their bed showed. 

He felt himself reacting immediately, knew that there was nothing he could do about it as it was barely lunch time. 

Emily I’m at the office. 

The same office that you fucked me in multiple times?  

He groaned at her reply, pictured her spread on his desk as she came on his fingers, face and cock. 

I’m wet, soaked actually.  

My fingers don’t feel as good as yours though. 

He felt his cock jerk in his slacks as he imagined Emily pleasuring herself. He palmed himself over his slacks as his phone buzzed with another message. 

You’re thinking about me coming all over you aren’t you? 

No that’s not it, you’re probably imagining me under your desk, sucking you off while you’re doing paperwork like your own personal cock sleave. 

He groaned and closed his eyes tight as he tried to rid himself of the more than pleasing imagery his fiancé was creating. She knew how frustrated he would become, knew that he couldn't do a damn thing about it and he quickly pressed the buttons on his phone. Before he could send the message he got another text. 

Or maybe you could take me over your desk and spank me until I cry, I know how much you like that. 

He types out his reply furiously, another groan sounding in his throat as he pictures Emily’s red ass and tear-streaked face. 

Listen here you little brat, don’t think I won't make you pay for every text you’re sending. Every. Fucking. Text. 

He watches his phone, waits for her reply but it doesn’t come. He knows she’s not done though, is proven right when he get another text almost ten minutes later. 

Sorry I couldn’t hear you over the two orgasms I just had. 

“Fucking brat.” Aaron mumbled just moments before Dave knocked on his door. 

The texts had continued all day, Emily sending pictures and messages describing what she was doing, what she wanted to do to him and what she wanted him to do to her and when Aaron was finally driving home he was painfully hard and almost aggressively aroused. 

He walked through the front door and marched upstairs, undressing as he went, only to find Emily sprawled out on their bed, asleep.  

“Oh I think the fuck not.” He said, spoke loudly enough for her to jolt awake. She smirks as she sees him and it’s the last straw. He’s on her within moments, grabbing her around the throat and squeezing. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me?” He spat the words against her face, saw the glint in her eyes and he growled “You’re in so much fucking trouble Emily.”  

When he lets go of her throat she coughs but is barely able to catch her breath before he kisses her hard. His tongue presses against hers as he fits himself between her legs. She moans as she feels him pressing against her thigh, hot, hard and leaking. 

“How many times did you come?” He snarls when they break apart, his eyes dark and hard as he slides his shaft through her wetness. 

“F-five.” She whimpers, her head falling back as he suddenly presses inside of her. 

“How many times did I give you permission to come?” He doesn’t look away from her as he starts thrusting, bottoming out with each stroke of his hips and groaning at her tight center around him. 

“None.” She concedes and his hand moves around her throat again as he moves up on his knees between her legs. 

“Exactly.”  

She doesn’t know what he means by that but knows from the gleam in his eyes that whatever he has planned will probably bring her immense painful pleasure.  

He fucks her until she’s straining against him, body trembling as he brings her closer to orgasm. 

“Don’t you dare.” He growls against her ear as he pulls out. He snickers at the whine that leaves her as he turns her around and positions her on her hands and knees. He groans as he slides inside of her again, continues to fuck her hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall as she keens and writhes in front of him. 

“Please can I come?” She whimpers through clenched teeth as she grips the sheet beneath her. 

“Not yet.” He groans against her ear as his arm wraps around her waist, finds her clit easily and he snickers as she whimpers at the stimulation. “I’m going to use the paddle on you, five hits for each time you’ve come without permission.” It comes out surprisingly calm against her ear, the only indication of his own pleasure the breathiness in his voice. 

“25 hits?!” She ties to turn to look at him but he grabs a hold of her hair, forces her into the bed and the change of angle makes her vision blur as her orgasm builds. 

“25 hits.” He feels her clenching harder around him, feels his own need to come starting to overwhelm him as he thrusts deep inside of her. 

She can’t answer, the strain of not coming clouding everything else until all she can moan and whimper pleas and his name.  

“Please, please, please Aaron, please let me come.”  

He pulls her up on her hands again, leans over her back until his mouth is pressed against her ear. 

“Come.”  

Emily feels her vision blackening out as she comes hard and fast, the orgasm ripping through her body and making her fall onto the bed. The pleasure is blinding and for a moment she’s thinks she’s going to pass out. 

Aaron follows her body as she tumbles onto the bed, keeps fucking her as he chases his own orgasm. When he cums it’s hard and loud, a growl deep in his chest as he pumps his release inside of her. He gives them both a moment before he rolls off her, strokes his fingers along her spine to get her attention. Her eyes are hazed, cheeks flushed as she peers up at him behind thick lashes. 

“25 hits. On your knees. Now.” 

[tsarisfanfiction]

Okay I couldn’t help myself, here’s one more XD.

8 - contagious. With Alan and Scott XD don’t hold back, give me some miserable sick germ spreading bros. Let chao rain!!! 😈😂

Three Out Of Five

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Grandma, Alan, Scott, John

There were few places worse than schools for spreading illnesses, although shared bedrooms were a strong contender. @sicktember prompt 8: Contagious

I could not for the life of me think of a single contagious disease today, so I resorted to asking my mother for ideas - therefore the choice of disease inflicted upon the boys today is her fault.

Sicktember 2021 Prompts - Somehow we're most of the way through the month and I still have ones in my inbox. I've added a list of what's been done already and what's sitting as a not-yet written request to the original prompt post if anyone wants to pick any of the remaining prompts, and yes, the alt. prompts are also fair game!

School. A place of great learning, supposedly. Somewhere to send children for several hours a day to get them out from underneath their guardians’ feet and teach them to be functional members of society. Compulsory in some manner or other.

A breeding ground for festering resentment, bullying, and disease.

Five grandsons meant that Sally was very used to one or other of them coming down with something they’d contracted at school, and then passing it around the others until they were all down for the count. It was basically a rite of passage; the same had happened to Jeff, and she had her own memories of plentiful illnesses making the rounds through her classmates.

Each generation hated it just as much as the ones that came before, although Sally thought that out of all of them, Jeff had had it the easiest. A child at the peak of effective vaccinations, most of the most severe childhood diseases had passed him by, kept at bay by the childhood jabs he’d ungratefully suffered through. Medical advancements had, of course, continued since then, but the so-called ‘antivax’ movement during his young adulthood had dealt a major blow to the ongoing effectiveness of vaccinations, and even thirty-odd years later, the effects were felt far and wide.

No longer tempered by vaccinations, diseases that had been all but defeated had made a major comeback. Even by itself that had been a problem, increasing childhood mortality rates back up to those seen in the previous century, but it hadn’t stopped there. Faced with the threat of vaccines ready to pound them into submission, the viruses had engaged their ultimate defence.

Mutation.

Gone was the guaranteed immunity from vaccinations; no matter how much the medical community scrambled to keep up, the viruses continued to evolve and evade them. Long-controlled viruses ran rampant again, striking swathes of children down as they passed it amongst themselves at school, and Sally lived in fear of her grandsons catching some of the particularly nasty ones that should never have been allowed to return.

They were still vaccinated, of course. Lucille had been a very sensible woman, and Sally would have had it no other way. While vaccinations were no longer the cast-iron defence of a generation earlier, they still provided some modicum of protection.

It was that modicum of protection that had saved the eldest two from a particularly horrible case of rubella several years earlier. Mumps had been similarly deflected away from Virgil and Gordon, and now Alan was completing the set with measles.

The five year old was utterly miserable, as would be expected. Feverish, wracked with a deep chesty cough, and more often than not in tears, the only rest he was getting was when he passed out from exhaustion, which was a fitful rest at best and certainly not enough to keep his energy levels from rock bottom.

Ideally, the intention would have been to keep him isolated from his brothers until the contagious period passed, to stop it rushing through the five of them like wildfire, but that was complicated by the fact that he shared a room with his eldest brothers, neither of whom had been interested in leaving Alan to suffer alone. Their attitude was admirable, but predictably it had backfired on both of them, and the entire bedroom was officially in quarantine.

Virgil and Gordon had been told that under no circumstances were they to enter until Sally gave them the all-clear. She just hoped they obeyed her, otherwise she was facing a household pandemic. It was obvious that both were very annoyed at being kept from their brothers, but with any luck common sense would prevail.

In the meantime, she had three grandsons at different levels of suffering. John appeared to be the best off, with barely a temperature at all and only a throaty cough and mild rash to signify he was ill, while Scott had a full fever and highly photosensitive eyes which had resulted in the curtains being permanently closed in the room. Little Alan, their patient zero, was the worst, garnering sympathy from both his infected brothers despite being the reason for their own illnesses.

When checking in on them, and providing food when they could stomach it – not often, and a moment of triumph for all involved when they could – Sally almost always found Alan in the bed of one of his big brothers, wrapped up protectively in their arms. It was usually Scott, unsurprisingly, but John rose to the occasion when the eldest’s fever left him barely aware and in no condition to look after a distressed five year old.

Well, they’d all already caught the thing, so they weren’t going to make each other any worse. It was also definitely helping Alan, whose tears were silent rather than accompanied by wails when he was in a brother’s bed.

Sally decided to leave it be, even if she had to work around the five year old limpet while coaxing a closed-eyed Scott into drinking a little more water – yes, Scott, it’s just water – and gently wiping the teenager’s crusted eyelids clear of the gathering gunk, or checking John’s temperature the old fashioned hand-on-forehead way to see if his mild fever had broken yet.

At least none of them had developed the dangerous complications, so with some medicine – begrudgingly taken by all three boys – and rest, they’d all be right as rain in another week or so.

Then they’d all go back to school and no doubt catch the next thing going around that virus breeding ground, provided Virgil and Gordon didn’t beat them to it.