#this devolves so quickly oh my GOD

[xiaoluclair]

38 lestappen

38. life or death kiss // lestappen // [ rating: M ] // skip all the way to the end for warnings but beware they do contain spoilers (obviously lol). also: MILD SMUT. not beta read! expect plenty of mistakes oops.

(the format of one section is inspired by a part from all to play for. it's small, but credit where credit is due.)

---

there is a prayer in the room, period one: 

don’t touch, don’t touch, don’t touch.

it speaks since hasselt, 1997. later (years later), he pictures a wikipedia page: the birth with a 500% death rate.

the baby next door goes home and is dressed in a swaddle of mint green. max goes home and is dressed in black.

a month after, his father asks, “can he still race?” it is not quite acceptance. it is as close as he is given for a while. 

they have pets. max, for all he knows about liking things, likes their pets. three dogs, four cats, two budgies, a pigeon. later (years later) he does not remember the soft of their fur, the tickle of their ears, the chip of their beaks.

older, he asks, did we give them to other people?

no, replies his father. you would not let me. now put your helmet on.

they had pets.

under gloves is where it hides, sleeps in pale skin. sweaty summers, blessed winters. winter, coincidentally, is his favorite time. good time, easier time. less poking curiosity from his class. a CONFIDENTIAL watermark over his name, his contract clauses, his life.

his dad finds him within a small patch of daisies by the hairpin. the skin on his hands is breathing, finding sunlight in the air. he says, "put your suit on."

max tries, "just one minute? the flowers are very beautiful."

his dad does not disagree. instead he crouches down, takes max's hand without much force. brings it to the ground between the grass. then, he he lets him go.

max stares up at him. he says, "put your suit on."

"but," says max. put your suit on. his dad only watches. waits. the grass thrums between max's fingers. a tickle touches his skin; a spider has found his thumb.

his dad says, "now." max takes his hand off the grass.

immediately, it starts to turn leathery. the daisies go brown, their stems withering. the spider curls into itself until it is a rib of thin legs, stills. max could touch it now. it would not change.

it is horrific.

what his dad says: "winners do not care about beauty."

what max remembers: winners are not beautiful.

anyway. max wins.

and wins.

and wins.

and wins.

he says later (years later), it was always just me and my dad. if i had a mother, it was racing. and i've made both of them proud today i think, so. it was worth it.

it was worth it.

he meets charles in the spring of 2012.

it's almost like meeting two people. in front of the camera, like a polished streak of metal. then on track, the abrasion of him. after, between walls, the thought of shutting him up, quietening his mouth with his own.

you could get me disqualified!

what about me? you pushed me first!

charles glances down more than a few times. max, the memory of a daisy in his head, flips him the bird before walking away.

in the van, he grabs his bottle of water. throws up into it.

anyway. apparently that is the start of a thing (nameless).

he meets charles in the winter of 2018.

he meets charles in the summer of 2019.

he meets charles in the autumn of 2020.

he meets charles in the spring of 2021.

there's the five of them, talking quietly together before the press conference starts. the current topic: charles.

he asks, “you had a problem in f2, right?” and charles, of course, nods. lando lets out a laugh. valterri blinks at the ceiling.

anyway, the red car is in the wall before lap two.

apparently charles is cursed too.

in 2021, max wins his first championship.

in 2022, he wins his second.

in 2023, he wins his third.

in the midst of them, there is a conversation:

he's in a club and the lights are low. sweat drips like rain down his back. he can feel it, the lake collecting in the hollow of his spine as he leans against the seat-back.

it displaces under the warm weight of a hand. 'sup, maximus?

daniel is drunk. he can barely hold conversation so he is very drunk. across the table, pierre is spilling a caipirinha over himself. daniel is also flirty, which says nothing about his inebriety. max, has anyone told you, you're very beautiful.

max rolls his eyes, tucks away the sour that threatens his mouth. winners, he says, the gin and tonic says, are not beautiful.

when he looks up, there are eyes already on him. charles turns, passes pierre another napkin.

in 2028, max retires with 4 championships. in abu dhabi, lando gives him a pack of colored fabric pens. for leather.

"for your." he nods to max's hands. there is latex on them right now ㅡ he has yet to change.

max grins. "thanks, mate. i'll have lots of fun with this one."

lando rolls his eyes. he's probably thinking max will draw a penis.

he's probably right.

in 2032, charles wins a championship. wins his first championship.

he opens the door of his hotel room the next afternoon, mouth like the moon. he offers max some room service soup. they chat, watch replays.

at a point (nameless), max catches charles's eyes. dark, heavy. his swallow gets stuck in his throat.

he thinks: just this once. just this time.

later (minutes later) charles, red, glistening, glowing from face to feet, comes stuttering on max's sweats, all over his glove.

he looks beautiful.

just this once. just this time.

what a load of bullshit.

inevitably probably, charles brings it up. max is crusting in his underwear, thinking of soaking a towel, when he does. he says, "you never touch me."

max blinks. shifts to rest on an elbow. he wiggles a hand, white on latex. "i do."

charles takes it and lowers it to the ruffled covers. "you know what i mean." asks, “why not?”

max bites his lip. glances at charles's own. away again. tells him, “you are beautiful.” 

an eyebrow quirks. "so?"

"so," says max, "i cannot."

after a moment: "i thought you said winners were not beautiful."

yeah. he did. his shoulders shrug and something small and heavy slips from their bone. "i was wrong."

after another moment: "i think you are beautiful too."

"good," replies max, cheeky. charles unravels him again far too soon until it is raw, on the verge painful, thin as a thread or the edge of a blade.

max is watching the race from his friend's balcony. he watches: car number 2 trip across the nouvelle chicane, car number 36 nearly slide into the wall at portier, car number 16 cross the line first.

after, in the evening, charles blisters his way into max's apartment. grabs one of max's gloves from drawer of the trophy cabinet. max is pushed gracelessly into the couch cushions.

equalizer 2 plays listlessly in the background as he comes on the leather over charles's fingers, the crude, childish drawing of a penis.

out of the blue one night, charles says, "i am in love with you."

across the couch, a lead weight knots itself through max's stomach. he says, "you cannot say that."

charles glances from the tv to their legs woven in the centre of the couch to max's face. "why not?"

max tries to explain, "it is a big thing."

charles says, "i know."

max thinks he would be more accepting of love if he knew how. if he grew with it. he knows love like: scraped skin, the edge of broken bones, a drop of gold.

he knows love like: the sun, the fur of bumblebees, a field of maize.

he does not know love like hot soup. like the swell of crescendo, like a heartbeat.

but he is learning.

in 2037, charles retires with 3 championships.

he lives in max's apartment in monaco. at some point, two cats appear. (appeared, echoes charles dubiously. max grins, innocence.)

so, they have pets.

once, he touches a plant. is knocked into it really, a rose on display at the garden centre, the edge of his cheek on a petal. it grays, withers, curls in guttering fashion. sickness steals right to his stomach. charles says, hey, a uniform walking by. do you have any fake plants?

the bedroom door locks at night to keep the cats out. sometimes, in the space (nameless) before they sleep, their hands will hold each other. hang above the floor between their beds. breathe in tandem.

charles: climbs a million mountains with his brothers, designs clothes, plays piano, comes home to max.

max: jet skis in every ocean, builds a karting track with daniel, wins sim races, comes home to charles.

and the cats. of course.

for many years, it is a good life.

everything is ready. within touching distance of the covers. a blue tube, piles of hand towels, energy bars, stacks of water bottles.

a laugh bubbles out from somewhere, the last dregs of ink from a pen. "this feels so fucking silly."

"i know," muses charles. "oh, i also brought jelly cubes." he gets them from his bag, puts them on the bedside table.

then. that's it. a gaze kneels in front of his own.

charles spreads his fingers, a flower in bloom. he whispers, "this is the hardest part."

max bites his lip. he puts his gloved hand into charles's palm.

charles's eyes are smiling a kaleidoscope, hair worn and soft between his skin.

this is it. thinks max. i'm about to touch a dead man. the thought makes him laugh.

charles grins too, like he knows max's head. he does, a little. he murmurs, "a kiss to seal the deal?" his eyes flick down.

a memory: you could get me disqualified. what about me? you pushed me first.

max pulls him in the rest of the way.

he pushed me, i pushed him back. you never touch me. winners are not beautiful. i am in love with you. you cannot say that. why not? nothing, just an incident. you are beautiful. winners do not care about beauty. just this once. just this time. i think you are beautiful too. i do. it is a big thing. i know.

i'm in love with you too.

there is a prayer in the room, period two: 

don’t let go, i won’t, don’t let go, i won’t, don’t let go, i won’t. 

the covers are off to the side. i get sweaty, max had said, when charles tried to lazily tug him closer. charles didn't waste much time expending the duvet after that.

they talk, a lot. more than he would've expected. "sometimes i think that is all we needed. someone else," murmurs max. he is aware of charles's touch as it moves down his stomach. he is also not usually one for what ifs.

(your mother was a racer herself. do you think she would be proud?

i don't know. it was always just me and my dad. if i had a mother, it was racing.)

"maybe," says charles quietly. "or maybe it would have been the same. maybe it could have been worse."

max says, "i wonder if they would've been like me."

charles hums. his hand has burned a line to the crease in max's legs. "i think it might be wonderful," he says eventually, "to have more of you in the world." then his hand slips entirely around him.

the sound max makes hits the back of charles's throat, is swallowed into his belly.

they shower together three times. max presses him into the wall, sinks to his knees. sucks the life out of him. they dry in the air three times, in the worn sheets that once lay made over the beds.

arthur asks once a day if it's normal for sassy to stare at him. she looks carnivorous, his texts read. the other one keeps jumping on me while i'm working out.

charles replies. max folds himself around his back. they laugh, they fuck, they eat, they drink, they shower, they sleep. they kiss, they kiss, they kiss. they touch.

a week is up far too soon.

this is the hardest part, charles had said.

no, thinks max as charles thumbs the skin of his shoulder. his smile is soft honey in the heat of sunrise. his moles glow. he is beautiful. this is.

charles says, "so? was it everything you dreamed of and more?" he is desert hot and clammy. his fingers are tender. the fatelines on his palms press to max's own.

max kisses him. "it was everything."

charles smiles into it. then, he lets go. they both do.

on may 3rd 2052, max goes home and dresses in black.

he has a clasp around his throat, unassumingly rectangular, engraved: CLV. a note in ink: worth it.

there is a prayer in the room, period one: 

thank you, thank you, thank you.

(it was beautiful.)

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH | MILD SMUT

[aardwoof]

RAAH I LOVE ALL OF THESE

i may or may not steal some of the elemental transition related ones for my own fic i may or may not be writing >:33

(except for the one about how it was like a natural body thing—i like to think it was a ritual forced on him by imperator post-terzo) (the more evil imperator is the better imo lmao)

do you perhaps have any dew headcanons you may be willing to share :>

absolutely yes I do

Dewdrop Headcannons

exhales steam when excited

exhales smoke when agitated

can exhale both on command, for funsies

spits sparks when he shouts, yawns, or sneezes

can snap his fingers and sustain a little flame like a lighter, and he often does it as a fidget

it smells like something is burning when he's mad, and others swear that smoke comes off his head when he is

his fire only smells like brimstone when he produces it in anger, otherwise it's odorless

idly chews on the end of pens, toothpicks, lollipops, mints, cigarettes, or the grucifix necklace he wears

licks things to 'claim' them, though that doesn't always deter certain others from stealing said snacks or items

has pointed teeth

Ghouls don't have heartbeats, but his chest glows brighter whenever a heart might beat faster

physically can't produce tears anymore

his gills no longer function

He can submerge himself in water, but no longer finds it enjoyable - he misses swimming but water feels too dense and clingy for him to stand it

dealt with anger management issues following his elemental switch

Switching elements was not a conscious choice - his outlook/personality changed as a result of the trauma following the unexpected end of Terzo's reign as Papa, therefore, his element changed to reflect that

The elemental change was physically painful, as well as mentally, emotionally

He's always warm, and can heat himself up further to warm others up

That makes him a 'hot' commodity for cuddling when it's chilly

He doesn't feel his own heat, so it never bothers him

Is a bit of a lap cat - he likes to be cuddled up with someone when chilling/relaxing

His left horn broke because his new, higher body temperature made them more brittle than they otherwise would be - so, he's pretty careful with them, now

He's generally a pretty serious guy, but he can be drawn into shenanigans relatively easily

Enjoys teasing his friends, on occasion, isn't one for pranks, though

Vehemently disliked Copia at first, but warmed up to him, and is now fiercely loyal to him

Very protective of Copia, Aether, Rain, and the others - He's afraid to lose them, after losing Terzo, Ifrit, Zepher, Pebble, and the others

Likes the 'punk rock' aesthetic, fashion, makeup, the boots that make him a little bit taller

:'] I've been writing a fic so he's been fresh on my mind lol

[luveline]

Ok but can you imagine if bombshell!reader who is pregnant does fall down somewhere?? Everyone, Spencer very much so, freaks out and she tries to play it off cool even though she’s really sore. She and baby are ok but she and Spencer are definitely shaken up by this and he’s even more hover-y from this 😭🥲

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader falling and panicking lovely bf spencer, 1.3k

“We’re like, the dream team,” you say, sewing your arm through the crook of Spencer’s. He’s trying to zip up your jacket, which is difficult given the ever-growing curve of your stomach. With one arm, it’s hopeless. 

“We are,” he murmurs obligingly, thinking about how cold it is outside and how you’ve yet to give in to the ‘ugly-fest’ of maternity clothes at work. It’s a shame. You look adorable in them at home. “Maybe you should put on your hoodie.” 

“It’s fine, it’s like, three steps between the station and the hotel.” You smile at him. He loves your eyes, your lashes, and he forgets to be stern. 

“Let’s go, then.” He waves at Emily where she’s chatting with an officer. “You ready?” he asks. 

Penelope pops her head out of the office with her laptop bag tucked under her arm. “Let’s go home, my chickens.” 

You and Spencer devolve into one of your murmured conversations, giggling, pressed arm to arm as you and the team emerge from the warmth of the police station and into the cold winter air. It’s sub zero outside, Spencer’s sure, wanting to get you back out of the elements as quickly as possible. 

He takes the steps first and holds out his hand a few beneath. Emily laughs, says, “He’s so chivalrous,” to Penelope’s delight. 

“He’s always been our gentleman,” Penelope says. 

You look eager to agree. “He’s my prince,” you tease gently, taking his hand, leaning just a little too far forward. 

Your foot slips out from underneath you with a sound like a knife scraping the snow. You fall hard and fast, and the horror is that your one leg trips more than the other and you end up slamming flat on your side. 

Spencer has you up again before the slush can so much as wet your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes go wider than he’s ever seen them and your lips struggle down into an immediate frown, a wobbly expression, alarm in your voice as you say, “Oh, woah.” 

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” Penelope asks, she and Spencer rushing down to the bottom of the steps to meet you. 

“Sit her down, Spencer,” Emily says quickly, not scornful or anything but her concern turning her tone hard. 

“It’s wet,” he says, as his head bubbles up with horrible statistics. 

“Spencer,” you say tightly, “I’m fine.” 

You don’t look fine. He yanks his suit jacket off and drops it to the floor, a write off, he and Penelope encouraging you to sit on the bottom step. Your eyes are filled with tears, he suspects from panic and pain at once, and he doesn’t really know what to do in this situation for a second, he has to think back. It’s hard to think and hold your hands at the same time. 

“It’s okay,” he says, enthusing his voice with false pep. 

“What should we do?” Penelope asks, quicker to panic than the rest of you. 

Spencer bends down in front of you. You’re the only person that matters in that moment. “What hurts?” he asks, hand hovering over your side. “Does anything hurt?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, before shaking your head, “What about–” You cut yourself off. “Yeah.” 

Spencer takes your wrist. “I’m gonna call Dr. Cordell right now. Okay? Just as a precaution. That’s what you’re supposed to do, okay?” 

“I think I hurt my hip,” you say smally. 

With some help from the girls, Spencer gets you back to the hotel. He calls your doctor, and they decide to get you an emergency check up with an antenatal doctor he knows while you’re still out of state. It feels less panicky and more dread while you wait, but the appointment goes well, and you’re given the all clear a few hours after your fall. 

You’re uncharacteristically quiet at the hotel. Spencer asks if you’re alright and you say, “Of course,” while he spends the rest of the evening watching you wince. 

It’s getting ready for bed where he finally gets you to crack for him. You’re not expecting to be sore, that much is clear, and you’re bashful asking for his help. “I can’t get my shirt over my head,” you say from the bathroom, with no need to shout. He can hear you from his not so casual seat at the foot of the bed. 

He lost his tie a few hours ago, and his suit jacket lays soggy in a plastic bag on top of his suitcase. He rolls his sleeves up as he eases into the small bathroom, eyes dropping to the naked bump of your stomach where your shirt is pooled. You have a yellowy bruise taking form on your hip. Another on your bump, like the lines of the stone steps. 

“Angel,” he murmurs, fingers glancing over the bruise gently. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” 

“You don’t have to lie.” 

You poke him. “Help me get changed, handsome.” You laugh at your demanding. “Please help me get changed.” 

“So rude,” he says. 

He grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it up your back and over the back of your head so as to not agitate your cut up elbow again. You sigh as he pulls it clean, leaving you shirtless and gorgeous in the bathroom, despite all your worrying. He should tell you. He can’t not tell you, really. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, taking your shoulders into his hands. 

“Even with the baby weight?” you ask. 

He rubs your arm. “You’ve never been this beautiful.” 

“Oh, no, don’t say that.” You cover his arm with yours, hand over his, fingers intertwining loosely. 

“You’re always…” He leans down. He’d been about to stop himself, but he continues, lips just an inch from yours, the two of you eye to eye. “Beautiful. I’m sorry about today, it was my fault.” 

“It was my fault.” 

“I should’ve been more careful, I knew it was cold enough for frost.” 

“I should’ve been more careful,” you say, frowning at him indignantly, “I know how fragile I am right now and I’m not being careful enough.” 

“You slipped,” he argues. It could only be an accident.

“What if she felt it?” you whisper. 

Spencer was trying to assuage your fears and he’d been planning on a kiss, but a hug feels more important in that moment, a careful loop of his arms under yours. His few inches of height over you are especially helpful in steering clear of your stomach. “She didn’t feel it, Y/N, I promise. You took the fall for her, and the doctor said everything is just fine. She didn’t even know it was happening, I swear.” 

You let out a long, slow breath. You nod into his should after a few moments. “Okay. Thank you for picking me back up, Spence.” 

“That was impressive, right?” 

You poke him some more as you let the entirety of your weight slouch into his front. “You’re quite impressive, Reid. I felt the muscle.” You kiss his neck, voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m okay.” He hasn’t realised how badly he needed reassurance too. 

“I know.” 

“Sorry if I was dramatic,” you say. 

“Dramatic?” he laughs, thumb on your neck drawing shapes. “You tried to tell me you were fine. That’s the opposite of dramatic.” 

“…Maybe I should slow down some. Maybe. Take some days off.” 

Spencer kisses the top of your head. “That could be nice. You’ve been bouncing around for months. We could just spend a couple of days laying down, right? You can try out some of those maternity pyjamas you’re so reluctant to wear.” 

“Why’d you buy so many?” 

“I’m trying to take care of you. I thought I’d finally be allowed,” he says. 

Your voice turns to a whisper. “You always take care of me, Spence. You really do.” 

[ohbo-ohno]

Okay but *gulp* soap with his dick slipping out and accidentally pressing into the wrong hole. Doesn’t stop him from continuing tho

listen LISTEN listen - yeah!! soap is 100% the kind of asshole to do this!!

1.7k soap x f!reader "wrong hole" drabble 🫶 (cw: pwp smut, noncon anal sex between partners (also unrealistic anal sex), pussy drunk johnny)

You arch further into Johnny, slick skin sliding along slick skin as your mouth drops open on a moan.

“Jo-Johnny,” you pant, gripping tightly to his broad shoulders. “Feels ssooo- so good.”

“Yeah?” He grunts from above you, mohawk messy and dripping sweat. “Bet it- bet it feels big, huh?”

You whine, pushing your hips closer to him as he slams home inside of you. “So big,” you agree, your mind draining from you slowly as he pulls nearly the entire way out on every thrust, leaving you almost empty before filling you to the brim. “God, you’re so good, Johnny.”

“Fuck, yes,” he pants, arms wrapping around your back and squeezing you tight to him. Your hips are pushed a little further up, a little closer to him. You wrap both your legs around his waist, hold him as tight as he does you. He only manages to keep up his rhythm through pure strength, easily able to overpower your grip.

“So good,” he mimics, eyes squeezed shut. You can’t look away from him - the sweat dripping down the side of his tanned face, the wrinkles and scars decorating his skin, the way he looks like he’s either in agony or euphoria. “Feel so perfect, so tight. Fuck, missed you so much, lass, missed your perfect cunt.”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he hits the perfect spot inside of you, body limp in his arms. You feel almost like a doll, like a toy for him to fuck, but he’s so good at it that you can’t even begin to care.

The both of you devolve into moans, occasionally trying to speak and choking on your words. You might feel embarrassed of what a mess Johnny’s made of you, if he weren’t in the same condition.

He pulls out completely on several thrusts in a row, both of you gasping at the sensation - you, because it’s a shock to go from nothing to everything completely and him, because every thrust inside of you when he’s pulled all the way out feels like the first. You dig your nails into his muscles, pushing your chest against his for all the physical contact you can manage.

It happens too quickly for you to even really notice. One second Johnny is rearranging your guts, giving you the best dick of your life, and the next you feel like you’re being torn in two.

You nearly scream, eyes flying open and nails dragging down his back, peeling skin off. Johnny’s loud groan drowns you out almost entirely, and he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s done.

You notice. Your unstretched ass feels like it’s on fire, and after your first sound of shock you can’t get enough breath in to try and say it hurts. 

Johnny can’t thrust the whole way in, like he had in your pussy. Your body gives him too much resistance, which is what finally makes him realize.

You’re nearly blinded by the tears filling your eyes when he finally blinks open, staring down at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and you can feel his heart racing against your chest. “Did I-? Am I in your-?”

“Pull out,” you gasp, tapping at his back desperately. “Oh my god, Johnny, pull out, I can’t- fuck, you’re too big.”

That’s the wrong thing to say - instead of pulling out, he groans, dropping his forehead to yours and letting his eyes fall shut again. You let out a long, high whine when his hips push forward, slowly spearing you further and further on his cock.

You’re made mute by the pain, left only with your nails as defense as you try and tear his back to shreds. You should know better, though - Johnny’s a masochist, and pain you inflict only drives him more insane.

“God, you’re fuckin’ stranglin’ me,” he pants, pulling out just enough to force himself a few inches deeper. “Thought your cunt was tight, but it’s nothin’ compared to this.”

“Johnny- please.”

“So fucking warm.” He looks nearly delirious above you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see his iris even as close as you are. “Tight.”

“Johnny,” you whine, even as the slide becomes a little bit easier from all the slick dripping from your cunt. “Hurts, please, you gotta… gotta stop.”

He makes a sound that’s somewhere between soothing and a snarl, a low sound that makes you instinctually arch further towards him and then yelp when that gives him more leverage.

“You’re fine,” he comforts - well, the words should be a comfort but his tone is almost dismissive. “You’re wet, I can feel it.”

“Not enough,” you cry, half choking on a sob when you feel him finally bottom out inside of you. “Ok, ok, please pull- pull out, Johnny.”

“But you feel so good,” he purrs, butting his nose against your temple. “Fuckin’ hot little ass, huh lass? You’re squeezin’ me so good, you sure you want me to pull out?”

“Yes!”

You feel the sharp smile pressed against your temple and hiccup a sob, shifting your legs so that instead of wrapping around him you’re trying to push him away. But he’s too strong for you to make him move, and he only shoves himself even further inside of you by leaning his weight forward.

“I think you’re lying,” he almost sings, grinding his hips deep inside of you. He shifts briefly, holding himself above you on one arm and sneaking the other between your bodies and down to your pussy.

You cry out when his fingers work quickly at your clit, tight fast circle that have you shaking and moaning. It’s almost enough to drown out the pain of having your back hole stretched so ruthlessly - almost.

“Here,” he says, dipping his hand down a little further to almost scoop the slick dripping from you, smearing it around your plugged hole like he’s trying to make up for the lack of lube in the first place. He pulls out about halfway, thrusting back in and moaning when you cry out. “Th-there, how’s that feel?”

“Still hurts,” you manage to get out through your sobs, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

Johnny’s panting like a dog above you as he starts to fuck you again, his pace sharper and uncaring about your sensitivity. You can’t help but clench down, your inner muscles squeezing tight in an attempt to push him out that only drags him further in. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it - as he moans repeatedly into your ear - while he fucks you. The pain eases after a bit, your own wetness making the path at least slightly easier, but the sharp sting never fully dissipates. Your tears don’t dry up, and you’re nowhere close to the orgasm that had been building before.

Johnny’s your complete opposite - he’s lost in his own pleasure, and your desperate scratches down his back only make things better for him. If you’d thought he was euphoric before, he looks like he’s found Nirvana now. You’re not sure if he’s so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he can’t hear your pain, or if your pain is what’s driving him more and more insane with pleasure.

For your own sake, you pray it’s the first.

He doesn’t last long - thank God - and only a few minutes later his thrusts get choppier and choppier, jerking in and out of you without any rhythm at all.

“Gonna make me come, bonnie, fuck.”

You can only stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as Johnny buries his face in the crook of your neck and comes deep inside of your ass, the hot spurt of his come a distant sensation with the stretch of his cock still at the front of your mind.

“Alright, alright, pull… pull out now, Johnny, please,” you beg again, too shell-shocked to even flinch at the embarrassing crack in your voice.

He obeys wordlessly, pulling his limp cock out slowly enough to make you whine when he finally leaves you empty.

“Hush, hush,” he quiets you, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone and brushing over your spread hole with his fingers. You jolt and whine, turning to press your face into his sweat-soaked mohawk. “You’re alright, didn’t even tear.”

“You-you sure?” You sniffle.

He chuckles a little, the sound vibrating through your chests. “Yeah, you’re alright, lass. Didn’t think I would really hurt you, did’ya?”

You can only whine.

His fingers dip inside your back hole just long enough to drag out some of his come, moving up to shove it inside of your pussy.

“There ya go,” he soothes, repeating the process again and again. “Still got a nice load in your guts, you're alright." His fingers lift to your clit, rubbing in perfect circles to make you arch and gasp, squirming for more pleasure despite the growing ache in your other hole.

He brings you to a slow orgasm, one that has the last of your tears dripping down your cheeks and clinging to his shoulders like a life raft. Your breaths are uneven, heartbeat quick in your chest, and you feel fuzzy around the edges.

Unlike usual, Johnny stops at one orgasm. You almost expect him to keep going like he always does, never satisfied with less than three for you and two for him, but he pulls his hand away after your first pained whines start again.

He doesn’t get off of you, letting his weight push you deeper and deeper into the couch cushions. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close to you and breathing in his musk. It takes a while to get your breathing even again, though Johnny’s levels out in moments.

You only let your eyes close once his snores start up, loud in your ear. The rumbling of his chest is a comfort, and you float into sleep with Johnny’s sweaty body pressed firmly against every part of yours, and the ache in your ass only growing more noticeable with every breath.

[ivysangel]

READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)

NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)

It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback

"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."

You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.

He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.

God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.

"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.

"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.

"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.

"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."

The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.

"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."

He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"

"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.

He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.

Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.

"You ready?" 

"Do you even have to ask?"

He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.

His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.

A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.

Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.

Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.

"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.

"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed. 

"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"

You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand. 

"There's something seriously wrong with you." 

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!

[cyanide-e-pistachio]

Shuake Fics from 2024 that Give Bonafide ✨SHUAKE CLASSICS ENERGY✨🙏🏻

I've been seeing the frankly untrue sentiment that there are "no good Shuake fics out there right now". The purpose of this post is to not only provide evidence against that sentiment, but uplift fics from this year that, in my opinion, are just as good as any of the Shuake classic fics we might find at the top of AO3.

DISCLAIMER: I have not read every shuake fic in 2024, nor did I suggest fics that are currently ongoing (with one exception). If you feel like I missed a Bonafide Shuake Classic(tm) from this year, FEEL FREE to rb with your suggestion!!! This is all about uplifting the wonderful authors in the shuake community who deserve more love!!!!! xoxo

Rebellious Birds by @sixteen-juniper

A post-canon fic where Akiren and Akechi explore a new and deadly Mementos, and an encounter gone wrong forces the tension between them to the surface. I have always loved this author's writing style. Their prose and technique is 10/10.

crowded rooms and highways i call home by sailboating

Rahhhhhh I just finished this one so it is extremely on my mind but holy shit!!! What a classic!!! A early 2000s Band AU in which Akiren and Akechi discover their ship tag on Livejournal. Full of fun LJ references and callbacks to the fandom scene of the time. It was such a fun ride with incredibly engaging prose from the author.

true blue by campanellaes

Listen man, campanellaes is one of those authors where every work of theirs is gonna be a banger. True blue is no different. A very unique post-canon story where Akiren and Akechi are in the Shadow Ops together and we watch as their relationship slowly develops. If you're looking for a sweet yet hilariously chaotic shuake dynamic this is the one for you.

finger twist & split by nexxis

Oh my god NEXXIS is on a roll this year and this is not the last time you'll see this author on the list. Essentially Akiren jokingly mentions to Akechi that he'll finger him and Akechi devolves into gay panic for 6,000+ words. It's so incredibly delightful, hot, and full of fun introspection that I just adore.

Closed For Renovation by @chaoticconstellation

My god, what a wholesome fic AAHHHHH ok ok so basically it's a found family fic in which Sojiro and Akechi scheme with his friends to renovate Akiren's attic bedroom. It's incredibly sweet and just downright adorable at times. Definitely the Feel Good Fic of the Year(tm) for me.

A first spring with you by @manibarilo

A post-canon reunion longfic that just OOZES Shuake Classic energy. Five years after P5R, Akiren and Akechi reunite after Akechi is released from prison. Lots of fluff, wholesomeness, and healing ensue.

we apologize for our streamer by sailboating

This author is truly the master at writing engaging Shuake fics. A Twitch streamer AU in which a glitch streamer Akiren finds a chess streamer with zero viewers and simps. Hard lol. A great ride from start to finish, and despite being 35,000+ words it feels like it ends too quickly!

sweetness by nexxis

Another banger from nexxis. An ABO fic in which Akiren accidentally discovers Akechi is an omega. I just love the way their dynamic is written here, and it's also incredibly :fire: :fire: :fire:

But Live Another Day by @tomiokajen

This is the one exception to the completed fic rule because I've beta'ed it lol. However I think it deserves to be on this list as, much like a first spring, it oozes Shuake classic energy. A post-canon reunion fic that explores Akechi as a wildcard. The way Akechi is characterized in this fic is masterclass, and truly shows that the author has a very good understanding of him. I also love the OC links in this fic. Has classic energy through and though and I can't recommend it enough.

Old Habits Die Loved by @malevolentmango

Technically written in 2023 but I read it in 2024. I love fics where Akiren is in need and Akechi has to step up to help him, and this one does that in spades. An established relationship fic in which Akechi has to do some Scooby-doo style detective work to figure out what's been going on with Akiren. Lots of delicious hurt/comfort involved.

Valerie by bisexualbluesargent

Listen guys I KNOW this was technically posted in 2023 but this was literally posted A DAY before January 1st 2024 so I'll give it to them. A protagonist Palace Fic AU that SCREAMS classic Shuake Fic energy. Honestly I won't say much more than that because half the fun of this fic is piecing together the story, so please give it a read!

Alright, that's all I have for now! Again, if I missed anything please feel free to contribute! Have a lovely day! 💚

[seoll3miwrites]

Zero Suit | Fem! Y/N x Josh Washington *Smut*

Masterlist When Y/N attends her long time crush Josh's party, she makes a plan to dress up especially from him. When she meets him at the party, tension quickly rise and she finds herself getting everything she ever hoped for. (WC: 3404 ) Song used: Into you - Ariana Grande

Warnings: Smut, AFAB! Reader, Alcohol, Drunk Sex

AN: This the first Smut I've ever written so please don't mind if it's a bit lackluster. Set in an AU where Beth and Hannah lived

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

Y/N adjusted the arms of her body suit as she walked up to the Washington’s house. She walked next to her best friend Sam as they approached the door. Colour lights were flashing, and a sea of bodies could be seen from the windows outside.

“Do we even bother knocking?” Sam asked while smirking, her hands on her hips.

Y/N shrugged before reaching forward to grab the handle, twisting and watching the door open with ease, “Guess not.”

The two held hands and stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Sam took the lead and guided Y/N through the crowds and into the kitchen, where The Washingtons usually kept the drinks. As they entered, the distinctly slurred voice of an already drunk Chris greeted them.

"Hey, you guys finally made it!” He approached them and pulled them into a little group hug. “I thought I’d have to survive here all by my lonesome.”

The two girls laughed at their friend, even more so at his peculiar costume. “Are you wearing an ascot, Chris?” Y/N asked playfully, flicking at the orange piece of fabric wrapped around his neck.

“Ah well… it was Ashley’s idea,” he explained, pointing to the outfit Ashley was dancing in the crowd; the purple outfit alongside the green headband made it clear who she was dressed as.

"Wow, couples outfits already,” Y/N continued to tease, “I’m impressed, Chris.”

“Oh yeah, well, what exactly made you pick your costume then, huh?” He teased back in return, a blush forming on her face as a result.

The truth is she’d pick her outfit based on one night a few weeks ago when they were all comparing different childhood crushes. The group had all been sitting in the basement when Mike had brought it up. The conversation had quickly devolved into the boys comparing all the women they found hot, specifically video game characters.

“I’m a fine of the classics,” Josh had proudly exclaimed. “I’m kind of ashamed none of you have mentioned Samus. I mean, have you seen her in that blue suit she wears?”

At the time, Y/N had rolled her eyes while the other girls complained to the boys and forced them to change the topic. Yet, when the time came to plan her Halloween costume, her mind instantly went back to that one thing Josh had said. It wasn’t as hard to find the costume as she thought it would be, and so here she stood, leaving nothing to the imagination as the blue bodysuit clung to her body.

“Shut up, Chris,” she chastised him before turning to the kitchen counter and began fixing herself a drink. Her and Sam had drank together as they were getting ready, so she was already slightly tipsy.

“I still can’t believe me and Ash got together before you even confessed to Josh,” he shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Chris I swear to God I will throw you in the pool!” She threatened, Chris placing his hands up in mock surrender.

"Chris, come on, lay off; you know what it's like to have a crush on one of our friends.” Sam spoke up in your defence. Chris looked shameful for a moment and offered you a genuine apology.

“It’s okay,” Y/N hugged him again before noticing Ashley's wandering eyes on the dance floor. “Now go dance with your girlfriend.” She pushed him away in the direction of Ash, smiling as she watched the two hug when they reached each other.

She turned back to the corner and poured her and Sam some drinks while the blonde texted on her phone. Sam thanked her when Y/N passed her the drink before speaking, "Hey, listen, I’m going to go find Hannah; you wanna come?”

“I think just gonna chill here for a bit, you go.” She replied, and after a second reassurance to Sam that 'yes, it was definitely okay.', the blonde left the kitchen in search of her best friend.

Now by herself, Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter and glanced around the party for people she recognised. Chris and Ashley were still on the dance floor holding each other close, and next to them dancing a little more erotically were Jess and Mike. She hadn’t seen Emily and Matt yet, but knowing Emily, she had probably dragged him to the hot tub.

With her eyes focused on the crowd around her, Y/N didn’t see the person slowly creeping next to her. Sliding close, they leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Boo!”

She jumped with a small scream and whipped her head around, coming face to face with the new person. “Josh!” She yelled at him as he laughed, “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” he apologised but was still laughing, leaning on the kitchen counter. Josh looked good; he was in a surprisingly simple jean and white t-shirt combo but had topped it off by covering himself in fake blood.

“So who are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, moving past his little scare.

Instead of answering, he pulled a small white device from his pocket and lifted it to his mouth before speaking, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” It seems the device he was using was a voice modulator that deepened Josh’s voice.

"Oh, Billy Loomis!” She pointed at him as she realised, “You look so cool.”

“Thanks,” He replied before looking at her in a way Y/N couldn’t figure out, “You look... well, you lot hot, Y/N.”

She blushed and smiled shyly, "Thanks.”

There was an almost uncomfortably long moment of silence between the two; they both looked away awkwardly, each drawing a long sip from their drinks, “Are you... do you like the party?” Josh broke the party while looking at her expectedly.

“Um yeah!” She replied, and she turned to look at him, “You always know how to plan them.”

“Do you wanna go join Chris and Ash?” He offered gesturing to the dance floor with his thumb.

“Sure.” Y/N allowed Josh to take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor; although they didn’t find Chris and Ashely, they still stayed in the centre of the dance floor.

The crowd cheered as the next song played, and couples quickly gravitated to each other, Y/N blushing as she realised what the song was. However, the drinks were catching up, and her body relaxed as she kept dancing unashamedly.

I'm so into you

I can barely breathe

As she turned slightly as she danced, Y/N felt some hands tentatively reach out and hover by her hips.

And all I wanna do

Is to fall in deep

Turning around, she came face-to-face with Josh. He was looking intently at her eyes, hooded with an unreasonable expression on his face.

But close ain't close enough.

'Til we cross the line,

Before she could lose her nerves, she placed her hands on his and guided them so he was touching her hips. 

So name a game to play.

And I'll roll the dice.

She began to gently sway, allowing the gentle rhythm to control her movements. Josh kept a hold on her hips, slowly stroking her side in circular motions as he continued to watch her.

Oh, baby, look what you started.

The temperature's rising in here.

Y/N looked up at Josh, her stomach twisted as she made eye contact with his intense stare. She started to gently sing along to the words as she maintained eye contact, almost gasping as Josh pulled her closer.

Is this gonna happen?

Lifting her arms, she placed them around his shoulders, linking her hands at the back of his neck before pulling him even closer. Y/N continued to sing along, allowing Josh to feel her breath on his skin.

Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move.

Before I make a move

He paused as he listened to the lyrics she was singing, a spark of hope passing through him as he looked at her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Uh huh” is the only sound she can make out of before pulling him forward and slamming her lips to his. The moment her lips touch Josh’s, her whole mind goes blank. His lips are slightly chapped, and he tastes like beer, but all Y/N wants is more.

She feels his hand squeeze her hips as he pulls her even closer; at this point he’s practically leaning over her.  When she gasps into the kiss, Josh takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past her parted lips.

A hand slowly slides from her hips to cup her ass gently. Josh smirked into the kiss as he slowly felt through the thin fabric. “Y/N…” He teases, “Are you not wearing underwear?”

Her face grew hot in embarrassment. "I... the bodysuit was too thin, and I didn’t want them showing.”

"Well, I’m certainly not complaining." Josh replied, giving her ass a rough squeeze, “If anything, it just makes you hotter.”

All Y/N can do in reply is pull him back down into another heated kiss. She whined into the kiss and subconsciously ground herself forward into him. Letting out a strangled moan that was drowned out from the music, Josh pulled back from the kiss so he could whisper in her ears.

“Do you wanna take this somewhere private?” His breath was warm against her ears.

“Yeah.” She lets Josh grab her hand and lead her through the crowd. They left the dance floor and made their way upstairs and walked down a long corridor full of couples just making out. Eventually the pair stopped in front of what she recognised as Josh’s room.

“Gimme me a second,” Josh said before pulling out a key. “Didn’t want any strangers doing it on my bed, so I locked it.”

Y/N leant against the wall, giggling as she watched him struggle with the lock for a moment before he was able to swing the door open. He pushed the door open, flicking the light switch on so the room was filled with a dim light. He grabbed Y/N’s hand again, leading her inside and quickly closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was shut, he pushed her against it, pinning her there with his body as his lips found her neck. He started kissing and gently biting at her skin, smirking into her skin at the little whines she made.

“You have no idea... how much I’ve thought about doing this.” He whispered into her skin, causing shivers to spread through her body.

She pushed him backwards towards the bed and shoved him so he was sitting on the edge of it. “I think I might be able to guess,” she spoke seductively, and she carefully kneeled in front of him.

He leaned back against his elbows as he watched her, his eyes trailing down her body slowly. She leant forward and slowly moved her hands from his thighs up to his crotch, smirking at him as she felt his arousal through his jeans.

“I turn you on that much?” Y/N asked him as her hands absentmindedly stroked him through his clothes.

"Mhm," he hummed out, biting his lower lip slightly. Josh's hands gripped at the sheets, his hips slowly rocking against her hands as a quiet moan left his lips.

She giggled in pleasure at his reaction to her touch, moving her hands to his belt as she fiddled with the buckle. Once the belt was undone, Y/N quickly undid his jeans so she could pull them down, struggling slightly from her position.

Josh lifted his hips as much as he could to make it easier for her; once they were at his ankles, she lifted his feet to pull them off completely. Now only in his boxers, she went back to palming his arousal.

“Fuck Y/N!” He moaned, the feeling of her hands more noticeable through the thin fabric. “You gotta stop, or this is gonna be very disappointing for the both of us.”

When she didn’t stop, he reached down to grab her wrists to pull her hand away. His eyes were closed as he tried to catch his breath, still holding on to her wrist. “Shit… just gimme a minute.” Josh said between breaths.

Y/N pulled her wrist away from his grasp and stood up, moving close to him. She lifted his chin so he was looking at her. Without looking away, she moved even closer to straddle his legs. His hands moved to rest on the upper part of her thighs.

Josh leant forward so their lips touch, pulling back away she followed, lips still connected in a heated kiss. Y/N placed her hand behind his neck before dragging them up and into his hair, causing him to groan against her mouth. She rocked herself against him, gasping as she was able to feel his cock against her pussy between the two thin layers between them.

He hissed from the contact, wrapping one arm tightly around her hip so he could push her closer. His free hand moved from her thigh, gripping the back of your head and tangling itself into her hair.

“Fuck… I need you.” She said between kisses and small moans before pulling away to yank his jumper above his head, which he gladly raised his arms to help with.

In a quick motion, Josh picked Y/N up and turned to put her on the bed. He crawled on top of her so his body rested over hers, one hand gripping her hip, as the other rested above her head as he propped himself up.

“Wait!” She said as Josh started kissing the shell of her ear. “I need to take off the bodysuit.”

He laughed in her ear before responding, “You said you weren’t wearing any underwear right?”

“Yeah… why?”

Josh slowly pushed away from her ear and moved back to look Y/N  in the eyes, an evil smirk slowly forming on his face.

"Well, in that case..." He leaned back further, slowly sliding down her body and kneeling on the bed, “Spread your legs.”

She looked at him suspiciously but still slowly spread her legs for him. He moved further down on the bed, sitting back on his heels so he was level with her hips. He let his fingers slide along her thighs slowly, but then suddenly gripped the thin fabric of her bodysuit and pulled. Y/N's eyes grew wide as she heard a loud rip and felt the cold air on her now bare skin.

“Josh!” She yelled at him, earning a simple smirk in reply. Y/N was about to chastise him but was cut off by her own moan, caused by Josh’s tongue now massaging her folds.

He smiled and hummed into your folds at the sounds you made, causing you to moan louder from the vibration and reach down to pull his face closer. “Josh… please… oh fuck.”

Josh was relentless; as he continued to lap up her juices, he used his fingers to gently rub circles into her clit. His other hand then moved in to her entrance as he slowly inserted a single finger and slowly began to thrust into her.

“I-I’m gonna…” Y/N could barely speak as she was hitting her peak.

“Do it, lemme taste you.” He pulled back to speak before moving back, this time inserting a second finger as he licked. It was too much for Y/N, as she orgasmed not long after. She was thankful the music was so loud downstairs; hopefully it drowned out the sound of her scream.

“Mmhm,” Y/N barely heard Josh through her euphoria. “This might be my favourite taste.”

He lifted his head up from between her legs and looked into her eyes, asking a question without talking. Understanding what he meant, Y/N noted and allowed him to slide himself back on top of her. He paused for a moment, throwing of his boxers, reaching across to his bedside drawer, and pulled out a condom, making sure it was on, before he fully propped himself up above her.

“Are you sure?” He asked verbally this time, giving her a chance to back out as he lined himself up with her cunt.

“Please just fuck me.”

“With pleasure.” With that, he carefully inserted himself, closing his eyes in pleasure, “Shit Y/N, you’re so tight.”

He went slowly, giving her a chance to readjust to his size, stopping once he was fully inserted. Eventually Y/N started moving her hips to his in little thrusts, “I need you to move.”

Slowly he pulled his cock out of her cunt almost to the tip before suddenly slamming himself back, causing Y/N’s back to arch as she screamed out in pleasure. As he found his rhythm, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, creating a new angle that allowed him to go deeper.

"Fuck, shit.. go faster." She could barely speak between moans, as she felt the pressure building again.

Josh happily obeyed her and picked up the pace, slamming into her harder and faster. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before Y/N pulled him down into a heated kiss as his thrusts continued.

A low moan escaped Josh's lips as their lips met once more. Neither of them were thinking clearly anymore, too consumed in their own primal lust. He wanted her, all of her.

He pulled out for a moment, gripping her bodysuit from where he’d torn it previously. His muscles tensed as he pulled it apart again; it split upwards, exposing her entire front. With some quick manoeuvring, Josh was able to pull her arms and legs out of the tight fabric, leaving her completely naked.

“Oh god, Y/N, you’re so fucking beautiful." He said before entering her cunt again, thrusting far more erratically than before. When Josh felt his arms begin to give, he held onto Y/N’s waist and flipped them so she was now on top. “Ride me, baby.”

She took a breath, readjusted herself, and slowly began to rock. The feeling of Y/N slowly rocking over him caused a low moan to escape his lips, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Josh… I think gonna cum..." Y/N moaned out as the pressure increased again, indicating she was near her peak.

“Me too… Just keep moving,” he groaned out, pushing her down onto him by her hips. She moved faster and faster, chasing the high that she knew was coming.

Y/N threw her head back as her second orgasm ripped through her; she heard Josh groan as her cunt clenched around his cock. He came not soon after, the tightness causing him to spill into the condom. When she came down from her orgasm, she collapsed on top of him; her body felt numb, and she could barely catch her breath.

After pulling out of her, Josh gently pushed Y/N of him so she was lying at her side. “Just lay there a sec; I’ll be right back.”

She watched him stand from the bed, still completely naked, and make his way into his bathroom. He came back moments later with two glasses of water and a towel draped over his shoulder.

“Here, sit up and drink.” Josh said as he gave her his hand to help pull her upwards before handing her one of the glasses. As she drank, he parted her legs again and tenderly wiped her with the towel, making sure she would be comfortable in the morning.

Once he finished wiping her, he moved to his drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and two boxers. Josh walked back over to Y/N and helped her place his shirt over her shoulders and slide his boxers over her legs. After putting the second pair of boxers on himself, he lay back down next to her.

“Shouldn’t you get back to the party?” She asked as Josh pulled her to his side. “You are the host after all.”

“Nah, Hannah and Beth can deal with the guests,” he replied, pulling the covers over the both of them. “I much prefer this to any party.”

When she hummed in agreement and closed her eyes, Josh smiled softly and leant down to kiss her head before also closing his eyes. They could hear the muffled beat of the party still happening downstairs as they both slipped into sleep, Y/N resting her head on his chest as he held her close.

[crushedsweets]

SCOTCH TAPE not proofread, 862 words, nina's birthday!

Kate sat silently on the porch, swaying back and forth in a rocking chair and absentmindedly scratching the tape on Nina’s present. She watched Toby and Clockwork argue for the nth time that day. 

“Are you fuckin’ stupid? That’s not gonna hold, Toby,” Clockwork held the ladder while Toby used flimsy scotch tape to secure a dollar-tree birthday banner onto the cabin’s gutter. 

“The fuck do you know about-” Toby cracked his neck, nearly choking on the words, “About putting up a banner?”

“What are you even talking about? That tape can barely hold up a flyer!” She spat, lightly shaking the ladder to cement her annoyance. Toby nearly lost balance, tightly gripping the rusty gutter.

“Stop that!” He shouted. The two devolved into further arguments about the durability of the tape. Kate’s gaze eventually lowered, choosing to drown out their voices. She realized she was ruining the wrapping on the gift.

“She’s almost here,” Jack’s smooth voice brought Kate back to reality. She looked up at him with a nod. She knew she made him uncomfortable when she watched him.

Jack was quiet, not sure how to talk to the ever-so-quiet Kate. Eventually, he mentioned that Nina was wearing her nice perfume that day. Kate’s leg began to bounce, a sign of nerves. Or excitement, nobody knew.

Eventually, Clockwork and Toby shuffled off the ladder, haphazardly throwing it to the side of the porch and whirling around. They stood side by side, tense and impatiently waiting. They could hear Nina’s bicycle crunching through the leaves. 

“Oh my god!” Nina gasped, coming to a sudden stop. She hopped off her bike and carelessly let it hit the floor. Her manicured hands rose to cover her mouth, squealing and bouncing in place, “You guys! Holy shit, oh my god!”

“Happy birth- oh, Jesus Christ!” Clockwork was cut off by Nina nearly throwing herself onto her, arms wrapped so tight around her waist that Clockwork lost her breath. Toby barked out a laugh, grabbing Nina under her arms and pulling her off of Clockwork. He pulled Nina’s back against his chest, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around. 

“I put the banner up, asshole, thank me first!” He cackled as she kicked her feet, begging to be put down. The three laughed for a while, leaving Kate and Jack to watch quietly. 

Eventually, Kate stood up. Nina’s head snapped towards her as if she was waiting for the proxy’s involvement. There was a moment of silence in the group while Toby and Clockwork slowly quit pushing Nina around. 

Kate blinked, shuffling uncomfortably under the silence. She hated it when they did this, getting all awkward whenever she went to speak. Or do anything, really. She cleared her throat, holding the wrapped present out for her. Jack was right, she was wearing her nice perfume. Kate’s eyes darted everywhere but Nina, but the second they went up towards the banner… 

Clockwork was right, that shitty scotch tape did not hold, and the banner fell limply over Kate’s head. It didn’t take long before Toby burst out laughing, the others quickly following suit. Nina couldn’t contain her giggles, gently pulling the hot pink banner off Kate’s shoulders. Kate would rather die than sit there a second longer, filled to the brim with annoyance, discomfort, and humiliation. The group’s laughter, Toby and Clockwork’s subsequent arguing about the tape, and Nina’s sympathetic smile killed her.

“This is for me?” She hummed, smiling so bright it almost blinded Kate. She inhaled deeply and nodded, pushing the present into Nina’s hand, like she had to get rid of evidence. Jack had come to stand with the rest of the group. Much to Kate’s relief, the group began chatting all over again, swearing like sailors and poking fun at each other. Nina received the worst of it, getting pinched and pulled at. Something about being the birthday girl, an old lady, whatever it was that would rile her up. 

In the midst of it all, Nina pulled the wrapping off her gift with little regard for the tape Kate already peeled at, letting out a squeal.

“Shut up, this is so cute!” Her voice rose several octaves as she showed off the nail polish set they had all picked out for her. Shimmers, stencils, stickers, gems. Clockwork and Toby had a tight budget this year, and couldn’t stop fighting about what to get Nina… so they forced Kate to help, and this was the first thing she picked out. Clockwork and Toby had no arguments to make.

Nina kept babbling about the gift, the banner, and how much she loved them all. Jack gently guided Nina inside, mentioning how he made something for her. Toby couldn’t help but nudge Kate’s shoulder as they filed into the cabin, flashing her a knowing grin and earning an irritated glare. 

“Stop,” She rasped before he could say anything. Toby just snickered and kicked the door shut behind them, now looking over at Nina nearly screaming and smothering Jack.

“You baked me a fucking cake?!” She cried out, shaking Jack by the arm. As loud as she was, Nina never failed to show gratitude.

[seaslugfanclub]

Hello! I just wanna say I really like your Disney Villain writings, they are funny and really cute! Can I request where the Disney villains are fighting over who is Y/N’s favorite villain? I thought it would be funny

Oooh great idea! This one was so much fun to write! (Can you tell that Honest John’s my favorite?)

No, I’m their favorite!!

————————————

No one knows how the conversation subject was brought up, but it more than ruined the villians weekly poker night. Curses filled the air and sidekicks where used as meat shields.

“I’m easily (Y/N)’s favorite person out of all of us, no- this entire park!! No one is better friends than Gaston!!” The Frenchman boasted, loose hair’s flying around his face. “They regularly compliment my physique, and they sneak me in special hair products!! There’s no room for argument!”

“Oh please frenchie, (Y/N) isn’t as daft as the other cast members. They have taste for more refined gentlemen. Like yours truly.” Captain Hook scoffed, ignoring the glares from the other villians. “Might I remind you how they gifted me the entire trilogy of ‘The History of Piracy’? Or how much they enjoy my culinary skills? They have supper with me every Tuesday.” Hook affirmed, more than confident he had bested the competition.

That was quickly interrupted by a swift *bonk* on Hooks head, Jafar looming over the ex- pirate with his staff in hand.

“While I agree with (Y/N)’s taste, it surely isn’t a cowardly captain.”

“Why you-” Hook started, only to be bonked on the head again.

“Why me? Well that’s easy, I’m a very persuasive individual. I’m able to… ‘charm’ those in upper management to give (Y/N) longer breaks, or keep any unsavory park guests from harassing our dear caretaker. (Y/N) obviously favors someone who makes their job easier.”

“Your joking right? Didn’t I see (Y/N) yell at you for 30 minutes straight because you were eyeing that princess Jasmine?” Hades chimes in, finally deciding to butt into the conversation after watching the other villians argue from the sidelines. Jafar stopped speaking, averting his eyes and mumbling.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. But c’mon guys, you know it’s ya boy here who’s (Y/N)’s number one pal.” Hades points his thumbs towards himself.

“I was one of the first people here who (Y/N) met, we knew each from day uno. I can’t count the amount of times that they’ve kept my shit-ass sun god of a brother from bugging me. And they even made the most adorable altar for me, with pomegranates and the whole works!!”

“Oh, so gauche. If it wasn’t for my expertise (Y/N) wouldn’t be half as stylish as they are. Not to mention our ‘girls nights’. I’ve opened an entire new world of skincare for them!” Cruella hissed. (Actually remembering she had to pick up (Y/N) that special cream made from horseshoe crabs)

A threadbare glove raised amidst the crowd, Honest John appearing from seemingly nowhere

“Im sorry to disappoint you all, but it’s myself who’s won (Y/N) heart. They’ve fallen for my effortless charm lock, stock, and barrel! I mean, I’ve been their nap partner countless a times, they quite enjoy cozying up to my fur.” John preened, smiling back at the memories of warm afternoons snuggled up next to (Y/N).

“Fur!? Why you little- I’ll skin you-”

“Just wait till (Y/N)-”

The poker room devolved into full out brawl, nearby cast members rushing into the room in attempt to break up the crowd. All the while, in an empty back room (Y/N) was sharing a sandwich with their guest.

“Y’know what, Ratigan?” They said between bites. “Your my best friend.”

The rat stared up at them, finishing his bite,

“…. Ew.”

[mostlyghostlyy]

dale is such a freak I hate him sm I want him to corner me and grope me while i have a panic attack and can’t fight him off (idc if he’d be unaware or just don’t gaf) sorry. sorry

Something similar, I've had this cooking up for a while.

Imagine you’re out in a public place, maybe a mall with a few of your girlfriends, just planning on having a good time and spending a shitload of money. Walking around bags in hands, when one of your friends points out a man sitting on one of the benches. He is just staring into space, mouth opened and muttering. The three of you start mocking his appearance, trying to contain the giggles at whispered jokes. That is when one of your friends dares you to go up and flirt with him. They’re looking at you expectantly, so you shrug and go along. It's just a joke after all, no harm no foul.

You stroll over to his bench, “This seat taken?” You motion to the bench. He looks up at you as if awoken from a trance, smiles and shakes his head. You sit, and he leans away from you to get a better look. Your friend's snickering in the corner, but he doesn't seem to notice all of his attention drawn to you. “Shame to see such a handsome man sitting all alone. You waiting on a wife or something? Maybe she's in one of these stores trying on a pretty dress to impress you.”

He blinks dumbfounded, smile frozen on his face. “Wife?” His hands fidgeting with the ring on his finger. “No….. no…. wife, I-,” A little breathless laugh. You rest your head in your hand, eyeing him amusedly, while he tried to form a coherent sentence. This was easier than you’d thought it would be, usually it takes at least a few lines before they devolve into muddled messes. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, and he lets out a small moan at your touch. You stifle a giggle and continue. Putting on your best flirty voice, “Whats your name, tiger?” Pushing the hair from his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Dale,” he responds lightly, still nuzzling into your hand. You pull it away disgusted, but quickly regain your composure. “And what’s your name, Angel?” You let out a chuckle and lean close. He smells musty and sweaty, you wonder when was the last time he showered. Whispering in his ear “You can call me whatever you want, baby.” You feel his whole body shutter, his hands slowly coming up to caress your face. A glance down would reveal his growing erection, wet spot now gracing his pants. You lean in, as if to kiss him. He shuts his eyes, ready to receive the act bestowed upon him.

Dale’s eyes shoot open when he hears you start to laugh, starting as a giggle and upgrading to a full guffaw. Your girlfriends run up, equally as in tears as you are. Snickering and holding each other upright. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” one giggles “He totally would have cum in his pants if you kissed him, just look at how hard he is.” Dale looks away ashamed, tears welling up in his eyes. “It was just a joke!” You croon, “We were just trying to have some fun! Don't act like you didn't enjoy it.”

He gets up and walks away, his face a shade of scarlett as he curses you under his breath. What was to be expected for him? He should’ve known this was some kind of cruel prank, no doubt the angels of heaven sent you to make him more miserable than he already is. He finds a quiet and secluded place, he is still revved up from your touching him. He jerks off until he is satisfied. Deciding that he wants to find you again to teach you a lesson.

He watches as you waive your friends off, you’re stopping to use the restroom. Its a single stall, wonderful. Nice and private. Entering you walk up to the mirror and do some makeup touch-ups. Startled when he starts pounding on the door. “Occupied.” You hiss, and continue. The knocking gets louder and more aggressive, you groan. Rolling your eyes “There is someone in here, dipshit. Find another bathroom.” It continues, you reluctantly but angrily walk over to the door. Swinging it open “Look asshole-” A hand flies over your mouth and you’re pushed backwards into the room. Realization hits you, it's the same man from earlier.

“Okay, Angel,” He huffs “Im going to remove my hand, but if you scream, I will cut out your tongue and make you eat it. Understand, beautiful?” You nod, and he pulls his hand away. You start begging for your life, forgiveness. Threatened apologies trickling out of your mouth in shuttering gasps. Of course you have no choice but to ask him what he wants. “I want what I was promised, Angel. You cant just treat a man like this, and expect him not to come and claim the prize.” He has you pushed up against the sink, hands stuck out behind you grasping the cold plaster. Your face turned away and eyes tightly shut. “And most of all, i want a real fucking apology.” With the last word, he tears your shirt open.

Your skin prickles at the unprotected air, he enjoys watching you breath in and out panicked. You wince when he reaches under your bra. Nipples already perked up from the cold air, he pinches and fondles them. One hand traveling up to grab at your throat, squeezing softly. “Im sorry, im so fucking sorry.” You rasp. He snorts. “Try again later, Princess.”

Yelping, he grabs you and flips you around. Your ass to him, and now you’re facing the mirror. Black streaks of mascara stained down your face, complexion both pale and flushed simultaneously. He tears down your pants, relishing your cries for mercy. Mocking the appeals for pity.

“Relax, Angel. Aren't you having fun?” He hisses in your ear before yanking your panties down. His erection fully grown and painful for him. No more teasing. He bends you over the sink, lining himself up and slowly moving his hips to fully lodge himself inside. He does this on purpose to make it as painful for you as he can. You scream and grit your teeth as he begins grinding into you. Your hands and elbows digging into the white of the sink, you begin feeling nauseous. Head drooping down to stare at the drain. Dale notices this, and yanks your head back with a fistful of your hair. Giving you no choice but to watch yourself in the mirror. Observing how his head flies back with every thrust, and how his hand keeps roaming over your body as if it cannot find a good perch. Watching as he rails you without mercy, pace brutal and bruising. Hitting deep within you, and probing your cervix. Involentarly letting out a moan of pleasure, arching your back. Unconsciously letting your hips thrust to meet his. “Do you like that!? Do you like that!? Do you like that!?” He screams after every thrust. Words starting out clear, then getting jumbled the closer he gets.

His whines ratchet up, and you've been with enough guys to figure that he's getting close to orgasm. Begging him in your mind to pull out, not to cum inside you. As if he could read your thoughts he climaxes. Hot strings of cum coat the inside of your womb, leaking around his cock. He leans on you, panting heavily. Peeling his sticky skin off yours. Watching as you sink to the floor in dismay, he laughs. “Relax, Angel. It was only a joke.”

[stardustprompts]

vengeful  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , violence , language , mental health

‘what a fucking cliche.’

‘envy really doesn’t suit you.’

‘don’t you turn that knife on me unless you plan to use it…’

‘you should have let it go.’

‘you can’t just do that to me!’

‘you’ve been gone for hours.’

‘you never said I had to play fair.’

‘that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘you look like a narc.’

‘it feels like dying.’

‘people have an idea of pain. they think they know what it is, how it feels, but that’s just an idea. it’s a very different thing when it becomes concrete.’

‘I did this. I did this to you.’

‘I am alive because of you.’

‘you think I’m playing god? fine, you play, (name). you decide, right now, who should live. us, or them?’

‘it’s a big world. you’re not the only one with talents.’

‘isn’t it silly to lie when we both know the truth?’

‘I think sometimes you make the easiest choice instead of the right one.’

‘make me the villain of that night, (name). wash you hands of any blame.’

‘a promise you can’t keep is just another lie.’

‘I don’t want you to save me. I want to save myself.’

‘I warned you when we met, I wasn’t a good person.’

‘killing me won’t bring her back either.’

‘think hard. we all have to live with our choices.’

‘the next time you point a gun at someone, make sure you’re ready to pull the trigger.’

‘we survived. that's what makes us so powerful.’

‘blood is always family, but family doesn’t always have to be blood.’

‘not all family is blood, right? sometimes we have to find a new one. sometimes we get lucky, and they find us.’

‘this isn’t a stupid game. it’s my life.’

‘are you used to getting what you want?’

‘hasn’t it occurred to you that I can protect myself?’

‘in this world, in my world, people get hurt. they die.’

‘people die in every world. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘you want to be more, (name)? prove it.’

‘they may think they’re kings but we’re the power behind the throne.’

‘i’m not a fucking coat, (name). you don’t get to check me at the door.’

‘where I go, you go. we’re in this together. step for step.’

‘did you always know that you had what it took to end a life?’

‘I thought it would be hard, but in that moment, nothing was easier.’

‘you were never one to dwell on the past. I loved that about you, the way things always just rolled off.’

‘every end is a new beginning.’

‘I underestimated you once. I don’t intend to do so again.’

‘the only difference between us is that you naively insist on preserving what I know should be destroyed.’

‘I played god once and it did not end well.’

‘oh no, it will never work between us.’

‘sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, you just looked sad.’

‘while I admire how far you’ve come, the fact is, you’re tracking mud into my home.’

‘we can’t shape our past. only our future.’

‘don’t you ever wonder if it’s our fault?’

‘life is more than an equation. a person is more than the sum of their parts.’

‘normal is overrated.’

‘A\a magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.’

‘every power has its limits.’

‘we don’t decide who lives and who dies.’

‘now who’s letting their ideals cloud their judgement?’

‘how quickly we devolve. people become animals the moment they are caged.’

‘if you were superhuman, what would your power be?’

‘ignorance is only bliss if you want to get caught.’

‘i’m still here, still doing what I can, because I want to keep people safe.’

‘never underestimate a woman.’

‘I thought I could save him. I tried. but it didn’t work.’

‘power belongs to those who take it.’

‘sharks come swimming when you make a splash.’

‘that’s quite a talent you have there.’

‘I only hope you’re ready to do the right thing,’

‘you help me, and I’ll help you.’

‘everything’s got a limit. you should find yours.’

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘oh, sorry, if you thought this was a girl’s-night-out kind of thing where we get drunk and bond, I’ll have to pass.’

‘why settle for one weapon when you can have an arsenal?’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back.’

‘the life I had is gone. there’s no getting it back. i’d rather make a new one. a better one.’

‘I thought you were done with hiding.’

‘people can see an awful lot, and believe none of it.’

‘why sit around sulking when you could hurt the people who hurt you?’

‘let’s talk about revenge.’

‘there are limits. I can’t stop nature. can't change it’s course.’

‘whatever’s happened to you, however you’re hurt, you’ve done it to yourself.’

‘oh, I like to think I have a great deal of nerve.’

‘if you had a damn bit of sense you would have run.’

'knowledge may be power, but money buys both.’

‘sometimes subtlety is overrated.’

‘when people stay in the dark, it’s easier to make them disappear.’

‘I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive.’

‘what now? you gonna throw yourself a fucking party?’

‘if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something against me.’

‘if I wanted you dead, you would be.’

‘whatever you’ve heard, it’s probably true.’

‘is there anyone who doesn’t want to kill you?’

‘how many excuses will you find to vindicate your own stubbornness?’

‘careful is a calculated risk. and I’m very good at making those.’

‘the truth is, there will always be someone stronger than you.’

‘you do what you can. you fight, and you win, until you don’t.’

‘once upon a time, power was determined by linage—- the age of blood. then it was determined by money—- the age of gold. but I think it’s time for a new age. the age of power itself.’

‘let me guess, I’m either with you or against you?’

‘you always preferred being predator to prey.’

‘we just have to lie low until it’s over, and then—’

‘when this is over, you and I are going to have words.’

‘it appears that we are evenly matched.’

‘it always comes down to this, doesn’t it? to us.’

[irisintheafterglow]

Hellooo 🫠 so how would satoru react to his little twin sister and suguru secretly dating? Maybe he catches them having a moment or satoru makes a comment and she slips up?

oops?

wc: 0.7k

cw: swearing and dramatic, overprotective satoru, gn!reader

note: BABEE THIS CONCEPT IS SO FUNNY TO ME OMG YOU'RE A GENIUS !!! i hope you enjoy this, this was so fun to write :D

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"i-i can't with you two, right now. please, get out of my sight." he sighs in melodramatic anguish, whirling away with all the flair of a musical theater actor. you could almost imagine the shakespearean cape swooshing behind him as he turns.

"satoru-"

"stop it! there are so many things going through my mind right now and i don't want to know about any of them!" you glance at your boyfriend who hasn't stopped pinching the bridge of his nose for the past five minutes. satoru discovering your relationship was not in either of your plans for the day. you're grateful that suguru tied his hair up; otherwise, he would have probably torn it out by now.

"satoru, we didn't-"

"i'm not listening! i'm not listening!" your brother plugs his ears like a toddler, obnoxiously reciting the abc's until his voice becomes hoarse. it's your turn to sigh, rolling your eyes and praying he calms down long enough for you and suguru to explain yourselves.

satoru wasn't supposed to be in your dorm when suguru came to pick you up, but a quickly completed mission and downtime to kill with girls he'd never see again proved too important of a story to tell you over the phone. as much as you tried to deter him, saying that you'd spilled body spray and he'd get a headache or shoko had left a massive fart on your bed, nothing worked. he burst into your room completely unannounced while you were changing and you stupidly revealed you were going on a date in a panic.

"a date? oh, that's right! you're seeing a guy now, right?" he jumps onto your bed unceremoniously, crossing his legs into a lanky pretzel and leaning forward with great interest.

"satoru, please," you pleaded with him, "you have to go. i need to finish getting dressed."

"what's he like? is he treating my little sibling like he's supposed to?"

"you're older than me by a minute, asshole," you yell from the bathroom, darting around to find all the things you needed to throw into your bag before you left. "you're not allowed to meet him yet, so please leave." the urgency in your voice finally gets through to him and he raises his hands in defeat, making his way to the door when your phone dings. it's from suguru. you throw down your phone, running to grab your brother's arm before he opens the door, but it's too late. the door opens and they speak at the same time.

"hey, gorgeous-"

"what the fuck are you doing here?" suguru's body goes deathly still, unable to come up with a coverup fast enough before satoru connects the dots. "oh. oh my god!" so much for keeping the relationship a secret.

"satoru, look-"

"you're seeing my fucking twin? that's who you've been talking about so much? you're in love with my twin sibling?" suguru's face goes bright pink and he glances at you, stammering pointlessly. you can't help the scoff that escapes you at the fact that suguru talks about you to your twin brother.

"you're in love with me?"

"task at hand, babe," he mutters and satoru flinches at how nonchalantly the pet name slips from his best friend's mouth.

"'babe?' you call them 'babe?'" the conversation devolves into pure chaos. satoru continues to lament his feelings about betrayal by the two people closest to him while those same two people yell at him that it wasn't that serious until yaga's face appears over suguru's shoulder.

"if you all would politely cease your bickering, i am trying to sleep," he says with barely restrained anger and all three of you shrink away, murmuring various apologies. when your principal leaves, satoru gives a deep exhale before turning to his best friend.

"don't hurt them, suguru," he commands in a tone you'd never heard from him before. "i'm dead fucking serious."

"i know you are, satoru," he concedes, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "and, i'm sorry for not telling you. i didn't know how to."

"yeah, yeah, i know. get out of here, already, yeah?" he waves dismissively, ushering you out the door and into suguru's arms. "don't do anything stupid, you lovesick freaks."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[to-thelakes]

helloooo!!! are u taking requests?? ^^ if so, can u pleaseeee write a fanfic wherein the reader is sick (i have read your sickday fluffbruary fic and aaaaaaaaaaaa >//<) so the reader is having a hard time swallowing her pills, reader has something like a phobia taking medications like that and frank helps the reader and comforts her because she nearly have a panic attack worrying about not taking her medication because she have to do workloads the nextday. thank yiuuuuuuu

hi nonnie! ask and you shall receive (but oh my god, this is SO late, i am so sorry)

medication

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; frank helps you when you're ill

warnings; fluff, soft frank, discussion/depiction of common cold or common cold-like illness,

notes; this is just a little fluffy piece that i wrote, it's not been proof-read so i apologise if it is atrocious or there are grammar mistakes! but i hope you enjoy <3 we need more soft frank in this world

masterlist

You had tried to tell Frank not to come over. You were sick, you were exhausted and you really didn’t want to get him sick. Considering his line of work, you couldn’t imagine him coughing and spluttering would make his life easier. You really didn’t want to make anything worse for him but Frank didn’t give you a choice in the matter.

Only 5 minutes after you had returned home from work with a headache, a dripping and blocked nose, a cough and swollen sinuses, he was at your door with your favorite takeout and a sympathetic look. He had been worked up recently and so seeing his shoulders relaxed and the lack of annoyance ridging his features was a welcome change even if you felt like utter crap.

“I told you not to come over,” You mumbled as you stepped back from the door. Frank shrugged and passed through the door. He knew your apartment like the back of his hand and while you closed the door, he headed to the kitchen to presumably plate up the takeout. But as you turned around, he had returned to your side with a tissue. He then wiped your nose for you, hand resting against your cheek as his thumb stroked your cheekbone.

“And I told ya, I’m takin’ care of my girl,” He responded. You sighed but you knew it was an argument you weren’t going to win. You turned your head as you coughed into your hand, Frank letting go of you as it quickly devolved into a coughing fit. It was painful, your throat was red raw and you let out a groan as your body finally stopped trying to eject your lungs from inside itself. Your shoulders sagged.

“I hate this,” You muttered. He sighed and gently pulled you towards him with a soft tug on your wrist. You walked over and rested against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your hairline before he wrapped you up. It was hard to breathe pressed against him so you were quick to turn your head so your cheek rested against his chest and you could breathe out of your mouth.

“You got pills to take?” He asked. You nodded, a frown spreading on your face. You hated taking pills. They made you feel sick most of the time and sometimes it felt like they were still lodged in your throat. It was irrational but you really didn’t want to take them even if they had made you feel ten times better while you had been at work. A soft huff escaped your lips, “I know ya hate ‘em but I need my girl back on her feet, yeah?” You pouted and he pulled back so he could look at your face. His hand cupped your cheek and he lifted the tissue up again to wipe your nose before he stepped back.

Your work bag was on the couch and while you headed to it, Frank headed to the bedroom. You pulled out the packet of pills before discarding the bag by the door. You placed the pills on the coffee table and Frank returned from the bedroom with your duvet, your pillow and pajamas. He dropped them on the sofa and you sent him a grateful smile.

“Lie down,” He said before he headed to the kitchen. You watched him for a moment and when he glanced back, it kicked you into action. You stripped out of your work clothes (the blinds were closed, thankfully) and into the pajamas he’d picked up for you before you snuggled up on the sofa, adjusting your pillow by your head and pulling the duvet around you. Frank placed a glass of water on the table and popped two pills out before he headed back to the kitchen.

He didn’t tell you to take them but you knew that he wanted you to. He just wanted you to feel better but the thought of even touching the pills made you nauseous. You couldn’t imagine anything worse right now and you glared them down. A hand brushed over your face before you reached over and grabbed the glass of water.

You just had to do it, you just had to do it. You didn’t even notice how quick your breathing had gotten until Frank had sat next to you on the sofa. His hand rested against your face and your eyes snapped to him, suddenly coming back to yourself.

“Hey, hey,” He said softly. You looked up at him, tears beginning to blur your vision. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, “Look at me,” He insisted. You forced your gaze to focus on him, his crooked nose, his lips, the yellowing bruises on the side of his face, the warmth of his brown eyes and the frown lines on his forehead. He was there, you were okay. You knew that you were. You were completely safe.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled. He shook his head and moved forward to rest his forehead against yours. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a short peck.

“Don’t gotta be sorry. Do you wanna take ‘em with food?” He asked. You hummed out in agreement and he pressed another short kiss to your lips, “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll bring it over.” You let out a ragged sigh of relief and he got up. You curled back up on the sofa, water abandoned on the coffee table while you waited. 

When he came back, he had your favorite takeout plated up for you and you couldn’t help but smile. He knew you so well and even if you couldn’t smell how good it was, you knew that it was going to be amazing. The two of you shuffled so that you were sat comfortably together under the duvet before digging in.

It was about halfway through eating that Frank swayed the conversation back to the pills. It was a simple request and you decided to just do it. So, you grabbed the two pills and threw them back with the glass of water. You probably drank too much water but you didn’t want to risk the feeling of them in your throat.

You placed the glass of water down and Frank grinned.

“Attagirl.” You smiled bashfully at the praise even if it was over something so stupid. He leaned over and kissed your cheek before the two of you continued to eat and talk about your day. You were ranting about work and one of your less-than-friendly colleagues. Frank couldn’t help but bitch with you about the assholes you worked with. If you let him, he would do anything to make them treat you better but you had insisted that it was fine.

It was nice to just be able to relax with Frank and the thought of taking the pills hadn’t been so scary now that Frank was here. He made it so easy to not even think about it as he distracted you with questions and food and smiles. It was a comfortable, easy routine. You were so glad he had decided to ignore you and come over.

<3

[cedarwoodtears]

Hiiiii! Do you have any chrashley headcanons??? ^^

OF COURSE I DO ANON!!!! sorry i totally passed out when i got home but. these two little nerds are so silly i cannot..they’re so cute and silly and adorable and funny AND AND AND 😭😭😭😭😭😭 AHHHHHH ok enough. let’s go

• chris is SUCH a sucker for kisses. all the time. everywhere. he gives them ashley at least 10 times a day. on her forehead, cheek, hands, HE LOVES IT!!! chris always has some chapstick on him because of that he will NEVERRR have dry lips. he likes the strawberry ones especially. but yes chris thinks it’s the most adorable thing to do hehe he could spend all day planting little kisses on her…he loves when she does it back with lipstick too. freaky ASS!!!!! its mostly wholesome but things can devolve real quickly with those two..ahem anyways UHHHH yeah. they’re so bad with pda oh my god get a room you guys. how are you both so shy yet so not at the same time.

• ashley likes messing with his hair whenever chris lets her teehee..she’ll make it look stupid like making two “pigtails” on him but his hair is too short it looks ridiculous!!!! or god forbid a middle part LMFAOOO oh my god she finds it so funny. a really bad one too like the amount of gel she slicks his hair down with. god. and then ashley takes a photo and makes it his own wallpaper just to add insult to injury…he changes it soon after bc he is NOT walking around with a photo of him looking alfalfa on screen he doesn’t hate himself THAT much bro..but chris can’t do it back to her. whenever he says he should she’s like “NUH UH!!!!!!! NOT ALLOWED!!!” and giggles girl you know he wants revenge so bad..

• these two GEEK OUT SO MUCH!!! chris moreso than ashley but god they’re such little nerds, especially when it comes to fighting games. do not get either of them started on any mechanics or rankings or lore because you cannot get them to stop LOLL they can sit on the couch playing and chatting the whole day..usually chris does most the talking (my autistic king 🙏) and ashley listens and makes little comments on his tier lists HEHE she finds it funny when chris gets a little annoyed and gets all sarcastic with her..he’ll be like “ok, ash, next time you can rank them, little miss ‘button mashing works!!’” don’t be mean to your gf chris 💔💔 /s

• ashley, when she’s not cracking jokes, helps chris prevent getting himself overstimulated/worked up..it still happens because well it’s hard to control without having noise cancelling earbuds 24/7 but she helps him work through it quicker knowing someone he cares for is there..it’s the same with all his close friends, but ESPECIALLY ashley she’s just..so calming sometimes you know? she never judges him for that and does her best to listen and help bc ashley figures it’s the least she owes him for the night at the lodge….she may not understand fully how his brain works but that doesn’t change anything about their relationship (cries im projecting so hard onto chris autistic chris is REAL !!!!!! he’s getting all the love i want..sobs…..)

•chris and ashley LOVE parallel play. they just enjoy being in each others presence whether or not they’re chatting….like the living room is their main spot to hang out because it gives ashley enough comfort and/or space to paint or write and chris can game or do some work on his laptop. sometimes they’re hip to hip or just on the same couch it’s all the same level of comfort for them HEHE oh and their mutual tik tok time. they cuddle up together, usually spooning or ashley laying on top of him, and just watch tik tok. separately but together. they’ll show each other funny videos and make a few comments then go back to it…they don’t have severe tik tok brainrot like matt dw it’s only mild.

• they still get flustered around each other even having been together for awhile…chris will compliment her and she’ll start giggling and twirling her hair like “thank you chrisss…..” and blush like AGHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHH no wonder chris finds you so adorable ashley WHO CANT!!! and when ashley says chris looks good in something he’s all like “oh um- it’s uh- nothing special-ahem—thanks babe.” and literally turn red like a tomato and get all shy AHHHH KISS NOW!!!! KISS!! MY LOVELIES YOU ARE TOO CUTE I CANTTTT WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHH

•chris loves being a little shithead about their height difference and tease ashley whenever she can’t reach something. especially in the kitchen up on the cabinets chris can only reach, she’ll ask him to grab xyz from there and he’ll be like “ash, they made step stools for a reason” and she’s like “CHRIS STOP ITTTT im gonna kill you i swear” then he laughs and grabs it for her…its okay though because ashley doesn’t need to worry about hitting her head on something unless she’s like tip toeing up LMAO he’s done that more times than he’d like to admit ahem……

• ashley is still such a scaredy cat. watching a horror movie/scary video with her is a bad idea because she jumps at every little thing..they don’t talk about horror much because chris knows how much she doesn’t like it BUT on the extremely rare occasion they’re watching one (at a party, probably from josh bc ashley would never pick it on her own) she clings to him like a baby…like gripping HARD ashley he’s not going anywhere i promise he’s just as scared as you babe…if it’s bad enough she’ll have to step out and calm down 💔 of course chris is right behind her making her feel better teehee..they love action movies though. especially really old bad cheesy ones bc they can poke fun at it 😁

• they both hate the hot weather so their place is always cold as FUCK even in the winter whenever someone comes over they’re like “holy shit do you guys even have heating” and chris is like “yeah it gets so hot though” LIKE WHY IS IT 62 GUYS YOURE GONNA DIEEEEE!!! not really but god at least they’re both not too affected by the cold…ashley especially how and why are you wearing shorts all the time. are your legs not completely frozen. whenever they get even slightly too warm though they get really annoyed so i guess it’s better to be a bit chilly..

[bree-cheesy]

How about jschlatt doing a Creampie to y/n and taking pictures of his ‘work of art’

Oh? 😏 I can certainly do this.

————-

Your head was buried deep in your pillow, hips pulled up high, back arching deep. Moaning and crying out as he drives his cock in and out of you, groaning and gripping your hips in an almost bruising strength. His head back, swear dripping down his face and down his chest.

“S’Fucking good… All tight and warm around my cock…” Going a bit faster and reaching under you, using his hand to get you even closer. His other hand pulls your hair, making you look at him as he plows into you, making you a moaning, whiny mess. “Yeah? Feels good, huh? Who makes you feel this good?”

“Y-You…”

Yanks on your hair, frowning. “Louder. Can’t hear you. Who makes you feel this good?”

Moans louder as he tugs on your hair, your mouth falling open wide. “You do! You make me feel so good…!”

He laughs and lets go of your hair, flipping you over on your back and throwing your legs over his shoulders, sinking back into your aching hole, making you cry out in pleasure as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you.

“That’s right, baby… Only I can make you feel this good…. Only my cock makes you all messy like this.”

He drives in and out of you hard and slow, devolving you into a blubbering mess. Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks.

You can tell he’s getting close cause his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s getting red in the face. “W-Want your cum, Jay… All deep i-inside me…”

He groans and thrusts faster, chasing his release. He lets out a loud and rough moan, slight tracings of a little whimper at the end. He eventually pulls out and you move to clean up, but he holds you down, his hand pressing into your hips.

You see him grab his phone and quickly turn the camera on. “Hold on, baby…” He snaps a few pictures, making sure he gets all the angles. “Fucking work of art, toots… God, so fucking beautiful…”

Maybe taking a few with his fingers deep inside you, completely coated with his own cum.

Ending with him “cleaning you up.” Aka, his tongue buried deep inside you, making you cum at least twice before finally stopping.

— Bree <3

[porcelana-r0ta]

Almost Saved You With Prayer

Fandom: Trash of the Count's Family

Relationships: Jour Thames/Deruth Henituse, Jour Thames & Original Cale Henituse

Word Count: 1745

Summary: When her son is born, his Rings are strange, and Jour is heartbroken.

Ao3 Link: [Here]

Her son’s birth is a long and painful one, but it is worth it when a bundle of soft fabric is placed gently in her arms, her little baby still crying angry tears. She’s so in love with her child and exhausted from delivering him that she doesn’t immediately notice the Rings of Life that circle around him in concentric, overlapping bands. 

“Cale,” she says, her voice hoarse from her own screams. “Cale. His name is Cale.” 

“A perfect name for the heir of the Henituse County,” the midwife says kindly. “Shall I send for the Count?” 

“Yes.” She’s breathless. Starstruck by the soft red baby hairs on her newborn’s head. He’s still crying, but she doesn’t care. She just loves. 

“As you wish, Countess.” With a bow, the midwife leaves, and not even a minute later, her husband comes running in. 

“Jour,” he says, panting, his eyes wide and full of wonder. He is quickly at her bedside, his gaze darting from his son to his wife. “The baby?”

“His name is Cale,” she says. “He wants to meet his father.” 

Deruth’s hands tremble as he takes Cale from her. One hand under the baby’s body and the other under his head, supporting the weight that Cale can’t hold up yet. 

“Hold him closer to your face,” she instructs, “so he can see you.” 

Deruth follows her instruction, and something in Cale stalls. His sobbing devolves into sniffles, and then ceases altogether, hazy little eyes blinking imploringly up at his father. 

Her husband is suddenly in tears himself. 

“Cale,” he says, and his tears fall. “Our son, Cale.” 

“Our son.” Jour smiles the words, safe and happy in her mouth. “We’re parents now.” 

“We are.” Deruth lifts the baby just a little higher and lowers his forehead to Cale’s. “Gods, Cale. Mommy and Daddy will always be there for you.” 

Her smile goes a little smaller at that. 

“Yes, we will.”

xxXxx

The next day, when Jour’s brain is no longer flooded with endorphins and exhaustion, her closest maid, Amelia, hands her Cale, and Jour finally notices the Rings around her baby boy. 

They start from the chest, as everyone’s Rings do, and then expand outwards, one for every year of life the person will experience. Cale’s Rings are healthy and bright silver, normally reassuring, if not for the fact that there are three sets of Rings. One is the healthy and bright set, another is a dim set of flickering gold, and the last is a rusting brown, sick in its life. 

Her breath catches in her throat, and if she were not in bed, she would have surely collapsed. 

“My Lady?” inquires Amelia, her tone cautious. “Is everything alright?” 

“Oh, yes,” she says. “I was… I was just struck by the wonder that is my baby.”

“He is lovely,” Amelia says happily. “The County is surely blessed to have him.” 

“Yes,” Jour agrees. “Amelia, please give me a few moments alone with my son.”

“Yes, my Lady.” And Amelia bows out, leaving Jour to stare at the two sets of Rings, and how the first set cuts off so abruptly and violently in slivers of silver. 

“Oh, my baby boy,” she whispers in the loneliness of her bedroom. “What happens to you?”

She reaches out, her hand shaking, and she latches onto that broken Ring, the fortieth band. Her fingernails dig into the noncorporeal form.

Show me, she commands her Ancient Power. Show me everything.

She sees blood and fire and agony and regret. The tear of flesh and bone. A figure kneeling in blood. And she hears weeping and screams and the clash of blades against blades and armor alike. 

And then she hears it: 

“Do we have a deal?” 

“...We do.”

She comes out of the vision crying for her son. She can’t see through her tears. 

“Cale, my baby.” She places her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs. With her other hand, she pulls Cale to her chest, as if to bury him there forever and protect him from that wretched future. “No! No, please, no, not my baby....”

xxXxx

When Jour was a child, she had a brother fourteen years her senior. His name was Ashur, and by the time she was capable of storing memories, he was married with a son of his own, 

“Jour,” he said once when she was sighing over a boy at age fifteen. “Don’t be too excited. We are Thames.” 

“I know,” she replied, annoyed. Little sisters were always annoyed at older brothers, no matter the age difference. “I can still like them.” 

He gave a sad little smile, “Yes, you can. Perhaps I was too harsh. You won’t always be able to enjoy this time, after all.” 

She wrinkled her nose, “You sound all old, Orabeoni.” 

“I’m decently old, for a Thames.” 

“Our parents are older.” 

“You and I both know that Mother and Father are the exception, not the rule.” 

Her chest became heavy, and Ashur continued, “Time gives the Thames enough mercy to live on.”

“I know,” she whispered, and she pretends not to see the way Ashur’s thirtieth Ring breaks into red sparks of nothingness. 

xxXxx

The maids think she has postpartum depression, and she doesn’t know how to explain herself, so she doesn’t correct them. She just continues to pour herself over her old Thames texts, searching for any way possible to spare her son from his pain. 

By the time he’s a year old and Deruth tearfully begs her to take care of herself, she has to start looking for a different path. 

She pulls aside Head Butler Ron Molan, who’d been hired a year and a half ago. 

“Ron,” she says. She bounces her son on her hip to keep him from being fussy. “I’m sure you’re aware that Henituses don’t hire just anyone.”

“Of course, my Lady. This Ron is pleased to have a job here so that his son might be raised well.” 

“That’s good.” Jour plays with her son’s red hair that matches her own. “Ron. I know what the Molans used to do on the Eastern Continent.” 

“Ho?” His voice is suddenly dangerous and quiet, but Jour knows him, knows his Rings and his son’s Rings, and she thus knows she will be fine. 

“I want you to protect Cale,” she says. She looks up from her son’s hair to meet Ron’s eyes. “Protect my son, Ron, and you and your son will never have to run again.” 

He relaxes just a bit, but it’s enough. 

“This Ron would never do otherwise, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She sighs, presses a kiss into Cale’s hair, and says, “Thank you. Thank you, Ron.”

xxXxx

There’s not much else to do after ensuring her boy will live as long as possible, somehow until age forty and eighteen and seventy-three all in one. The Thames studied time, not space, but there are still enough cross-referenced texts in her library that she knows it’s not regression but transmigration. 

Her baby will be leaving his family, not just like her, but it will be enough. 

When he’s four years old, she runs her index finger around his fifteenth silver ring, the future flashing across her mind’s eye, and thinks, Well, not much of a family. Not much of a father.  

She asks Deruth to always be there for her child, to say no when he needs it, and Deruth just laughs. 

“Well, he’ll have everything he’ll ever need!” he says. “He’s a Henituse, and your son, at that. How can I say no to your visage?”

She gives a wan, watery smile. That might have been nice to hear before Cale was born, before she saw his future. 

“We can’t let him be too spoiled, dear.”

Deruth embraces her from behind, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her into his chest. He buries his face in her red hair, “Well, no.  But he deserves it.”

“It would be a disservice to our son.” 

He sighs out a laugh, “You’re right. You always are. No, we won’t spoil him.”

“You’ll say no when he needs it? When it’s best for him?” 

“Yes, of course. Especially if it’s best for him.”

“Good,” she smiles brighter. 

Later that night, she creeps into her son’s room. At four, he sleeps soundly, no longer a colicky newborn or a toddler in pain of teething. She rests her finger on his fifteenth silver ring, and weeps. 

Nothing has changed. Her husband is a liar. 

Jour doesn’t know what to fucking do. 

xxXxx

Jour runs her fingers around Cale’s fifteenth and eighteenth silver rings and tries not to feel betrayed whenever she looks at her husband or the Molans. 

It’s not their fault her son is so purely Thames that they believe his act without any training.

xxXxx

Jour’s son is eight and she is on her last Ring. She’s done everything she can for him and still she’s done nothing. There’s only one thing left to do.

One night, while Deruth is out on business in the city nearby, she cries herself to sleep. 

When she awakes, she writes a letter. 

“To the person who will be living in my son’s body…” She accepts what must be done. The man—White Star—in her son’s future cannot be allowed to acquire her full Ancient Power.

xxXxx

Next week, when Jour leaves for her trip to Harris Village, she kisses her husband. Then, she hugs her son, tiny and small and so full of love that he would destroy himself for children sprung on him with no notice, and she only barely holds back her tears. 

“Goodbye, Mama. I love you!”

“And I love you, Cale.” She holds his face, rubbing her thumbs under his brown eyes, and he smiles trustingly up at her, believing that she’s coming home healthy. 

Her heart breaks. She hugs him again. 

Deruth reaches out to hold her hand while she hugs Cale, and she takes it, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it drop. 

She loves him, too, and she would choose him in every lifetime. But she doesn’t want to touch him when she knows what he will do to her son.

Long after the carriage has left Rain City’s limits, she weeps. 

She is leaving her son with people who will let Cale rot alone in alcoholism and self-hatred, the joke and scorn of noble and common society alike.

Maybe that makes her worse than all of them.