#you win no prize i don't know why you did that

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

did yall think i was being facetious? think again!

-the Heaven's unofficial blessing-

[note: this is chinese history rpf not tgcf. it is not about your favourite struggling homosexuals. it is about a different set of struggling homosexuals altogether. you're still welcome to read it though!]

"—and where is the Duke of Pei County?" asked Zhang Liang, "I'd like to see him." 

"Oh, uh, certainly, Sir!" cried General Fan Kuai with a rapidly sinking heart. “It’s just that, well, you see…” He quickly cast an eye around the camp as subtly as he could manage, trying—and mostly succeeding—to not look like a retainer whose liege lord had just run off like a randy hunting dog. Shit, shit, shit, but this was on him, let’s be honest. Never assume Liu Bang will stay in the same spot you left him. The fucking Yellow River was less capricious.

"My liege is overseeing the eastern supply depot,” Xiao He lied fluently. Heaven bless the man, he even managed to sound perfectly officious in spite of his stuffy nose, “Sir, why don't you join us for some hot wine while I send a runner to inform him? Duke Liu will make time immediately, I'm sure--" 

Zhang Liang raised his hand and pointed behind them, "Could that be him over there?" 

Fan Kuai didn't need to check if it was Liu Bang or not. Xiao He's frozen expression told him all that he needed to know. The general took a fortifying breath and slowly turned around, as happily as a man being held at sword-point. What he saw made the amicable smile congeal on his face. 

"It's…really too far away to tell," Xiao He said weakly; at the same time, Fan Kuai let out a stifled but very emphatic, "Oh fuck me." 

"I think it is him!" Zhang Liang said cheerfully, pointing out the small figure wandering across the distant hillock. Of the three men, he appeared to be the only one who wasn't appalled or even surprised to see Liu Bang—the new Duke of Pei County, beloved leader of the rebel forces and sworn brother to the fearless Lord Xiang Yu—on his hands and knees, rooting through the mud like a prize-winning sow.

Xiao He made a valiant last stand for the sake of their collective dignities, "the wine, Sir, will be getting cold—”  

"Duke Liu of Pei County, I presume?" Zhang Liang called out in greeting. His soft, lilting voice barely carried over the din of the infantry and horses. For a miserable, hopeful second the two retainers prayed that Liu Bang wouldn't be able to hear him—but bugger them all, Old Liu's wandering attention had a way of picking up the most minute details when it was least convenient. 

"S'goin'on," Liu Bang answered with a toss of his handsome head and a perfunctory bow, all done without getting up. He flashed a winning smile in their general vicinity and went right back to his excavation. 

"Good, he doesn't look busy," said Zhang Liang, "I'll give him my regards now," in a flash, the strategist had tied up his trouser legs and was picking his way through the quagmire. The two retainers exchanged a helpless look of commiseration and quickly followed suit.

The muddy hill proved to be no obstacle for tall, gracile Zhang Liang, who floated over the muck as gently as a soap bubble. His hosts, who were both portly men more inclined to grow sideways than upwards, were left behind to slip and slide in every direction except forwards, all while clinging futility to each other’s shoulders and biting back muffled curses. 

Xiao He nervously dabbed the sweat from his brow as he stumbled along, cheeks aflame. He had served as an indispensable secretary for three magistrates and wrote calligraphy while still in split-pants. He was uncustomed to such ignominy and looked like he wished the earth would swallow him whole the next time he fell flat on his arse. Fan Kuai could sympathize, he wanted the same thing—except with Liu Bang. This was their one chance to impress a local hero, and now it was all going to dogshit because Liu Xiaoer couldn’t do as he was told for half a fucking sichen. 

Zhang Liang, who was nearly at the top, suddenly stopped in his tracks, as if he just noticed he dropped something. He quickly retraced his steps and came back down the hill to help the floundering Xiao He. The strategist was far too slight to act as much of a counterweight, but he made surprisingly effective progress by laying a steadying hand on Xiao He's elbow, and directing him where to step. It improved Fan Kuai’s opinion of him, but not by much.

“Do you need help, too, General?” Zhang Liang asked pleasantly, pausing to hold out a slender white hand that looked like it had never done anything more strenuous than grind ink. Fan Kuai gave a monosyllabic response to the negative, and the hand disappeared back into its sleeve, though the strategist’s bland smile had not budged an inch. 

After what seemed like an epoch of struggling, they finally rounded the hump and came to a plateau that was tolerably dry. The rainwater had been coaxed downhill by the persistent wooing of gravity, and both men breathed a sigh of relief to have solid ground under their feet at last. There was Liu Bang, the colossal pain-in-the-arse himself, staring intently at two deep, parallel furrows in the ground. The gently sloping hill was covered by these jagged trails, stretching at least three-quarters of a li east and west. Each one was around two hands deep and mathematically regular. They were wagon-wheel tracks made by the retreating Qin army six days ago. Their passage had savagely gouged out the wet mud, and the sun had baked it solid, turning the field around them as wrinkled and craterous as the face of a one-hundred-year-old man. 

Liu Bang was kneeling on some dusty, yellow clay, now rendered brick-hard by the sun. He was trying to dig up—or rather, chip away at something with the aid of a twig—and had been going at it for some time without much success, judging by the pile of broken sticks beside him.

When the group appeared in his line of sight, the duke looked up with a smile and cried, "Ah, Secretary Xiao, there you are! Just the man I wanted to see!”

“My liege?” Xiao He panted, trying to retrieve one of his shoes which had been sucked off by the mud.  

“Here,” like a magician performing a trick, Liu Bang produced a bundle of dirty roots and pressed it warmly into Xiao He’s hands, “I got some wild ginger for your cold.” 

“My liege—” Xiao He protested weakly, probably because he didn’t want to go back down that god-forsaken hill with gravity working against him and one hand impeded, but this was interrupted by a phlegmy chest-cough which rendered his argument moot before it could be voiced—so he was left standing there with his arms outstretched, shoe in one hand, ginger in the other, and in the span of those five coughs, Liu Bang’s attention had already packed up and moved along. The Duke turned to Zhang Liang and said solemnly, “Strategist Zhang, on behalf of the Chu Kingdom, we are deeply honoured to welcome your presence again.” 

“Likewise, Duke Liu.” 

“What’s mine is yours, Sir, you need only ask. Chu is eager to help you in any way in order to fight our common enemy.” 

“Your generosity is greatly appreciated, my lord.” 

Fan Kuai let out a sigh of relief. All right, so that wasn’t a total unmitigated disaster. He had been a little apprehensive that Liu Bang wouldn't recognise their guest, he had only spoken to Zhang Liang once in passing, and that had been at Xiang Yu’s extravagant banquet two months prior. Well, jokes on him; Old Liu never forgot a face. The speech itself was faultless too—he just wished the bastard didn't have dirt smeared on his nose. 

“Nice weather, eh?” Liu Bang blew a few loose strands of hair from his eyes. He was no less sweaty or flushed than his men, the only difference was that exertion looked good on him. Handsome buggers like Liu Xiaoer were born with that aura about them, Fan Kuai noted with a touch of angry fondness, it was the one degree of difference that poets used to separate the florid jowl from the rosy cheek. He was also no less dirty than the other men; the only difference was that he did not give a damn and, thus, was quite content. 

Liu Bang caught Fan Kuai’s eye and grinned unreservedly, as if he’d been waiting all day for him to come along. His smile shamed the sun, and Fan Kuai felt the edge of his own mouth creep upwards without his permission. The general frowned harder to compensate. Fuck, it was hard to stay mad at Liu Bang when he was like this. The man's excitement rubbed off like coal dust. One touch and everyone had sooty faces. He had been jealous of Liu Bang, once upon a time, back when he was an attractive, popular, charming boy. The sharp edge of resentment had long been worn smooth by age and intimacy. The years hadn't improved Fan Kuai's own looks, but it had given him wisdom. His childhood feelings had been rooted in fear—fear of being tossed aside like an old toy after this beautiful scatterbrain got bored of him. The thirty years they had spent together had proven otherwise. Liu Bang might get bored of games and objects, but he never got bored of people. 

The Duke of Pei County turned his head to wipe his sweaty brow against his shoulder. It was the same habit he had preserved from childhood, except now his eyes had crow’s feet, his hair was more grey than black, and there was a real sword hanging from his belt instead of a stick. 

"Lost yer keys, did ye?" Fan Kuai grumbled, switching to the informal ‘you’ to make a show of displeasure. He shrugged off the pointed look Xiao He gave him. He didn't give a dog's arse that the so-called genius could hear them bicker. Their 'fearless leader' was literally wiggling in the dirt like a fucking worm, what was there left to salvage? They hadn't so much as lost face as drop-kicked it straight off the edge of a cliff.  

 Liu Bang only grinned in response, "gotta knife?"

Both men answered without hesitation. Years of fielding Liu Bang's non-sequiturs had made them very mentally agile. 

"Unfortunately not, my liege."

"Fuck no," growled Fan Kuai, "and even if I did, I wouldn't let ye dig around the dirt with it!" 

Xiao He looked like he wanted to dive head-first off the proverbial cliff, after their proverbial dignity, "General, please mind your language…" 

"Aw, what a shame," Liu Bang clicked his tongue thoughtfully, "See, the ground's packed solid but I think I can get it out if I had the right tool..." 

Fan Kuai rolled his eyes, "just use yer sword." 

Liu Bang laughed "Old General Fan, it's always blunt force with you! I might chip it if I do that." 

"—and ye still haven't told us what 'it' is!"

"My lord," said Xiao He, endeavouring to get a word in edgeways, "we have a guest here—"

"My hair! Of course!" Liu Bang shouted; his delight was so violent that Zhang Liang, who had been hovering in the background, silently watching the show with his unblinking owl eyes, flinched and covered his ears. 

'So much for a military genius,' Fan Kuai thought wryly, 'the only thing that white-faced little wimp is good for is a bed-warmer. He wouldn't last two seconds on a battlefield—' and then his attention was monopolized once again by Liu Bang. The duke had pulled out his ivory hairpin and was using it to scratch the clay crust with tiny, careful strokes. In spite of his annoyance, Fan Kuai couldn't help but be impressed. In a world where most people thought in straight lines, Liu Bang's mind was capable of moving sideways. Four-fifths of the time, it was a right fucking hassle that led them down all sorts of convoluted paths, but that remaining one-fifth was worth staying around for. 

Xiao He winced, “My liege, I seem to recall that hairpin was part of your wife's dowery."

The blood drained from Liu Bang’s face "Oh, shit…" After a moment of consideration, he set his jaw manfully and resumed his digging, "fuck it, it's already chipped. Ain't no point in quitting halfway, I gotta see this thing through till the end." 

"You're a braver man than me," Fan Kuai muttered; the mere thought of Liu Bang's wife, Lu Zhi, had him subconsciously slipping back into the formal ‘you’. Heaven might have failed to bestow Fan Kuai with looks or charm, but he definitely lucked out in marrying the other Lu sister. 

The hairpin began to grind against pieces of half-buried gravel with a hair-raising screech. The sound made Zhang Liang leap backwards as if he had been burned; his entire face was scrunched up in extreme distaste as if the awful sound was assaulting all five of his senses at once, not just his hearing, but smell, sight, touch and taste as well. 

Fan Kuai laughed rudely. Call it pay-back for the impromptu mud bath or whatever, but that little white-face deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. To his disappointment, Zhang Liang did not seem to register the insult, or even his presence for that matter. He had eyes only for Liu Bang. Far from being angry, the strategist seemed to grow more and more excited with each pass of the hairpin. Nothing showed on his oddly blank face, of course, but he was leaning forward at an oblique angle that was growing steeper by degrees, and his hands were fluttering slightly in his sleeves. Fan Kuai was not easily given to flights of fancy, but he thought he saw a ghostly fire dancing in his eyes. Suddenly, the rumours about Zhang Liang being a wizard seemed a little less implausible. 

"Got it!" Liu Bang gave a triumphant hoot and held aloft his prize. 

General Fan Kuai had made a careful show of being aloof up until this point, but now he pushed forward to see it. The dirty object was no bigger than Liu Bang's palm, it was flat and circular, with a square hole in the middle. It looked like a big version of the First Emperor's half-liang coins. A length of frayed, muddy string was tied to one end. The four men recognised it immediately as a jade pendant, the type that fancy gentlemen were supposed to hang on their waists—something they couldn't afford, even if they pooled all their money together. 

"Nice!" Fan Kuai bellowed, clapping Liu Bang on the back. No need to call in the oracle, this was an auspicious sign if there ever was one! 

“A lovely find, my liege,” replied Xiao He evenly, “shall we make our way back now? We can celebrate with some hot wine—”  

"I was following a rabbit over on that ridge yonder," the duke grinned, "Old Fan, we gotta set some snares later, I have a mighty hankering for stew. It'll go down great with the wolfberries I saw—anyways, the rabbit ran off, but I saw something glimmering over here, so I came up for a look. Good thing I did, eh? All that hard work paid off!” 

A pale, delicate hand reached into the midst of their circle and paused in front of Liu Bang, palm held up expectantly, “Duke Liu, may I wash it for you?" Zhang Liang asked, his head tilted to one side in a bird-like manner. His other hand held a water gourd that Fan Kuai could have sworn up and down had not been there before. 

"Sure, thanks!" Liu Bang was as friendly with strangers as he was with his bosom friends, "is Sir familiar with gemstones?"

Most people—experts, that is—would have done a whole song and dance about how they were talentless mediocrities who would sully the noble art of gem appraisal if they tried their hand at it. Zhang Liang just answered seriously, "Yes, I am." 

"Great, then can you tell me what type of jade this is?"

Zhang Liang took his time washing Liu Bang’s pendant, gently rubbing the carved groves with the tip of his forefinger. After satisfying some standard apparent only to himself, he held it up to the afternoon sun and examined it with one eye half-shut. The jade hung suspended between his fingers, dripping and sparkling like a piece of heaven that had fallen to earth, "this is serpentine." 

To hell with the complicated jargon, "Is it valuable?" Fan Kuai asked eagerly.

Zhang Liang gave him an infuriating half-smile, "No."

"Why not?" Liu Bang cried, looking offended on the jade's behalf, as if it was his darling little daughter being rejected by a suitor, "what could it possibly be lacking? It's elegant, polished, and has a ton of character! The outside is round like Heaven, the inside is square like the earth, and look here, it’s got these two blue lines running through it, just like the Long River and Yellow River! Now that’s a good luck charm if I’ve ever seen it!" 

"All that is true, but beauty is not what makes a gemstone valuable,” Zhang Liang replied, his smile growing exponentially along the twin axes of opaque and infuriating, "Scarcity is what makes it valuable. Everyone covets what no one else can have. A piece of mutton-fat jade is worth ten times its weight in gold because it's hard to come by, not because a white rock is inherently more lovely to the eye than a blue rock.” 

Fan Kuai snorted rudely. Sure, he knew next to nothing about jade or whatever nonsense Zhang Liang was sprouting, but he could smell a huckster from thirty li away—in no small part because he was in-laws to one of Pei County’s finest ones, “And I suppose we should just leave this ‘worthless’ piece of jade in your reliable hands?” 

Zhang Liang handed the pendant back to Liu Bang without looking twice at Fan Kuai, “It is not mine to keep. Besides, General Fan, I did not say it was worthless.” 

“You calling me a liar, Sir?” The ‘Sir’ was enunciated in the same tones as ‘shithead.’

“I'm saying you misunderstood my meaning, General. I did not say it is worthless, I said it had no value.” 

Liu Bang was enjoying the absurd discussion immensely, “But jade is jade, Sir. That’s why it’s valuable. Not only does it ward off evil, it’s also very useful. It’s extremely hard and doesn’t tarnish, so it’s good for pins and cups. People even used it for weapons in the olden days before bronze.” 

“Yes, but it is not inherently worth as much as we pay for it," Zhang Liang replied. "It is valuable because we agree it is. Imagine what would happen if precious gemstones grew on trees,” Liu Bang grinned at the mental image he was painting. “The value of jade would plummet overnight. People would still use it of course, for the reasons you stated, but it would no longer be a precious item that costs many strings of cash. Children would use it to play knucklebones. The First Emperor’s Heirloom Seal would be no better than a pickle weight.”

 “A pickle weight!” Liu Bang laughed uproariously, slapping his knee. In spite of his good humour, the stubborn set of Liu Bang’s chin told Fan Kuai he wanted to argue the point further but could not think of a good rebuttal. Fan Kuai wanted to help, but was equally at a loss. The whole thing felt wrong, like someone saying up was down, like a fundamental truth was being questioned. He almost said, ‘You could sell the jade,’ but to who, exactly? Even he could spot the holes in that logic. Everyone already had it, and jade had limited uses as a practical item. It wasn’t something that could be consumed either, like firewood, or an extra joint of pork you could salt up and hang in the cellar.

“I suppose the analogy is like counterfeiting currency,” Xiao He mused, coming to their rescue. It was amazing how gallant a fat, balding man with a runny nose could be, under the right circumstances, “if there is too much cash in circulation, it will devalue the official mint.”  

“What he said,” Fan Kuai agreed confidently. 

“You can certainly see it that way,” Zhang Liang replied, but his eyes were still boring into Liu Bang, like he was hoping to strike a secret wellspring somewhere inside him, but a wellspring of what, exactly? “Duke of Pei County, if you wish to sell this pendant, do not accept an offer of less than ten strings of cash. That is my final appraisal, should you choose to accept it.” 

“I trust Zhang Zifang wholeheartedly!” said Liu Bang warmly, he rubbed his bearded chin, “but I’ve decided I won’t be selling. It doesn’t seem right to give this jade to someone who only cares about how much money it’s worth. They won’t appreciate it’s beauty like I do. Besides, I was the one who got my hands dirty, I deserve a little keepsake for the effort. It'll make a funny story to tell my grandkids, if nothing else.”  notes:

haha this one was really on the nose guys, but what i can i say, subtlety is not my middle name: liu bang is able climb out of the quagmire and obtain the 'mandate of heaven' because of his opportunistic nature, stubbornness, willingness to get his hands dirty, and some very talented, ride-or-die friends.

Liu Xiaoer: "second-son Liu" childhood nickname based on birth order. Can also be slang for "waiter," given how in-demand he is. I think his more "official" nickname should be Liu Erlang, "Lang" meaning "handsome young man".

"little white face" 小白脸-- twink/ boytoy / kept man.

wolfberries: fun fact, the word 枸杞 sounds like "dogberries" in chinese but it actually a different word. in any case, it still fits the extended dog metaphor, hell, he even digs out the jade with a piece of ivory, which is a fancy tooth!

Fan Kuai is married to Lu Xu, younger sister to Liu Bang's wife, Lu Zhi. man im really enjoying building up Lu Zhi's entrance like she's the secret final boss. yes, it doesn't escape my notice that people seem more scared of her than the actual fucking qin army.

banliang round coins with square holes were standardised during the reign of QSH. A jade pendant in this shape would have been highly unusual (i've never seen one) but there's nothing inherently unlucky/taboo about it (and tbh it's just here for the metaphor) so I'll give it a B- for historical accuracy.

blue and green were called the same thing during this time period 青.

the chu-han contention is rapidly becoming the heartwarming human interest story of a bunch of people coming togather to help a guy with unmedicated adhd ace his job interview

[thedawningofthehour]

In tandem with my ramblings about doth being an actual separated au instead of a 'Donnie thinks it's a separated au' au and some conversation with @dryad-druid about that and Big Mama being an actual mama-yeah, I think I've thought up a pretty cool au idea.

(this is long. you will regret this)

So the classic Donnie gets separated from his brothers, Lou takes the other kids in the divorce and Draxum gets left with Donnie, but unlike other separated aus, Lou very clearly sees Draxum save him from the flames. But Lou's hurt, choking on smoke, holding three babies and Draxum is holding his baby and OH YEAH HE'S LITERALLY IN THE PROCESS OF MUTATING. Lou has to flee for the safety of his other kids.

But he fought Draxum and took the turtles for a reason, and every moment he spends with his three babies just renews his conviction. He can't let Draxum keep even one of the turtles, and he will not leave his child to the mercy of that monster.

He needs to return to reclaim his last baby...but he barely got out alive the first time. Not only that, but he has three little lives that depend on him now. Even if he was successful, they couldn't be left alone for long. And he cannot fail. He can't leave his purple baby with Draxum, and he can't leave his other children alone.

So he returns to the Battle Nexus. He tells Big Mama he'll stay, he'll do whatever she wants him to do, provided two things: she provides for his children, feed them and educate them and keep them safe from anyone who might try to harm them or use them for their own ends, including herself. And second, help him reclaim his child from Draxum.

Big Mama is ecstatic. She has Lou back right where she wants him, his boys are just the most adorable turtles she's ever seen, and she really doesn't like Draxum anyway. They get married, she gets the boys birth certificates or whatever and sets them up in luxury accommodations, and hires mercenaries to capture Baron Draxum and his remaining creation and bring them to her-unharmed, she stresses. The baby must be kept safe, at all costs.

Meanwhile, Draxum just watched his entire life's work go up in flames as he was violently divorced by the guy he sort of-totally had a crush on, who was also the father of his kids and kidnapped 3/4's of them, and is now left with whatever meager possessions survived the blaze, his gargoyles, and a single turtle.

And yes, this turtle fusses constantly and keeps pulling his hair and doesn't let him sleep for more than two hours at a time, but...he, weirdly, really enjoys it. Yes, he's exhausted and hungry and hasn't been able to take a leisurely poop in a week because the second he sits down someone starts to cry, but when he stares up at Draxum with those big eyes while he takes a bottle, when he refuses to settle down and fall asleep until he's in Draxum's arms, he just...can't help it. He's completely taken with this kid. He'd do anything for him. He's all that Draxum has left.

So when the bounty hunters come looking for him, intending to take his son away, Draxum runs.

Homeless, penniless, not daring to use even his name, Draxum goes into hiding with only what he can carry on his back and the baby in his arms. He unfortunately has to get rid of the gargoyles-he won't be able to pay them and they're too stupid to keep anything a secret, plus they sucked as nannies. So they go back to the gargoyle agency, and Draxum goes off into the night.

Hiding in the Hidden City proves difficult, considering there's only so many goat Yokai, and Big Mama's goons are nothing if not thorough. I thought maybe he could live in some fantasy-esque cottage out in the middle of the mushroom forest or something, and maybe he does for the first few years, but as Galois grows so do his needs, and he becomes increasingly harder to keep hidden. So Draxum retreats to the only place left he has a prayer of disappearing into-NYC.

Life on the surface is hard and forces Draxum to deal with-shudders-humans, but he soon finds himself benefitting from their kindness. A coat draped over his shoulders when the temperatures start to dip, leftovers from a restaurant worker who is supposed to throw them away but puts it all in a to-go box instead. He likes to think of it as fate, choosing the alleyway right outside their apartment the night before he was stumbled upon, but after the shock had worn off the couple was eager to help him, and neither they nor their daughter April treated his son any differently.

The O'Neils help Draxum get a settled in a recently vacated apartment in their building and things begin looking up. Galois and April become attached at the hip almost immediately, and though neither of them completely understand why Gale has to stay hidden, they listen to the adults. Draxum can pass for human even without his cloaking brooch, so he gets a part-time job in the evenings to at least cover some of what the O'Neils are doing for him. April goes to his apartment when she gets done with school and he watches her until her own parents get home, and the O'Neils watch Galois while his father is at work.

It's not perfect, but they have so many more opportunities on the surface. April struggles in school so Draxum offers to homeschool her alongside Galois, and her parents agree to do that for at least her elementary years. When April is twelve and Galois is ten, Draxum gives him his own cloaking brooch so he can attend middle school with her. It comes with a long lecture on how he can't let anyone know his secret, that Draxum was asking a lot from the both of them, but he felt like they were mature enough to understand how important it was.

So they go to school, then come home and learns alchemy and Yokai history from Draxum, Galois sets his curtains on fire multiple times performing experiments in his bedroom, and always seems to be learning a new subject from Youtube tutorials. Draxum gets a day job as a lunch lady and starts thinking about getting a human degree, so he can go back to doing science things or practicing medicine. Two decades ago he would have recoiled in horror if someone showed him his future, but he finds himself...weirdly content.

MEANWHILE. The rest of the boys grow up in a life of luxury, tailored clothing and endless servants and world-class tutors. Lou settles himself into being Big Mama's part-time champion and full-time trophy husband. True to his word, he does whatever Big Mama asks of him, so long as it doesn't compromise his sons. He fights, he smiles and poses for the press, he sleeps in her bed when she wants him and makes himself scarce when she doesn't. And he does what he can to ensure his boys don't get too spoiled. Taking care of them is the only thing in his life that makes him happy now.

But the deal he made with Big Mama chafes him at every turn. She said she'd never force his children to fight, but when Raphael begs her to put him in some of the smaller, no-kill fights...well, that certainly wasn't against the terms of their contract, and how could she ever say no to one of her turtley-boos?! Leonardo is clever, far cleverer than any of his nannies or tutors, with a skill in manipulation that would put most car salesmen to shame. Not to mention he's definitely the most handsome of his sons, with his bold markings and charismatic personality. Big Mama delights in parading him around, using him as arm-candy when Lou isn't available. And worst of all, she's taken to teaching him business at her side. She fixates on Michelangelo as well, but Lou can't really find anything to object to when she hangs up his artwork and brags to her dinner guests about their meal being planned and cooked by one of her sons. Still, he keeps his last baby close, so she'll have all the more trouble finding something to exploit in him.

All the while, he can't bring himself to truly be angry with Big Mama. She took him back, kept him and his boys safe when they needed it. She's his children's mother, they love her, look at all she provides them. He was the one that left those loopholes in, he was the one who failed his sons. He was the one who left one of them behind. He can't be angry with her, no.

But he knows who he can be angry with.

So that's how he passes the years. Watching his wife exploit the children she claims to love, reading report after report of every failed mission to locate Draxum and his missing child, taking his fury out on every mercenary that returns without them. He thinks about his last baby, what hell their life must be. How they must feel, knowing their father left them with a monster. He thinks about Draxum, the source of all his misery, who has eluded him and kept his child captive for thirteen long years. Lou waits. He plans. While inside him, a simmering hatred plants its roots deeper and deeper, and slowly begins to boil.

[astonmartinii]

i can do it with a broken heart [guilty as sin part three] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

life goes on after a bombshell but this silence isn't mysterious it's ominous

MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,304,509 others

yourusername: don't tell lies about me and i won't tell truths about you

view all comments

user164: oh holy moly this is so much worse than i thought

user165: i don't think i can ever look at those men the same ever again

user166: SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS FOR FAVOURS?

user167: my mouth dropped open when i read that

user168: so like not to be insensitive but like who do we think it was

maxverstappen1: so like y/n obviously can't talk on this because she needs her silence but my big mouth will remain open they tried it on me that's why she mentions that she managed to make friends.

user169: what the fuck

maxverstappen1: they thought that i would be an easy target because i was so young but jokes on them i've always been taken advantage of so i saw that from a mile away (also y/n didn't want to so that obviously helped)

user170: that is actually insane like her and max are the same age so that would've made her so young i hope to god that they didn't try it with anyone older

maxverstappen1: they did but by the time they realised that it hadn't worked on me y/n had allies and fernando and seb were not about to let any of that happen

user171: thank the lord she had some friends when people control your money you'll do anything

fernandoalo_oficial: she became my daughter the moment that i saw them try and offer their family to some of the older men in the paddock

user172: i am actually in shock this was a "oh gosh this is so dramatic situation" but now it's just "holy shit i kinda need to see these guys in jail"

fernandoalo_oficial: me and you both

user173: i'm going to need ferrari to let charles out of the cage for this one

user174: kinda expected him to be in the comments supporting her i'm not going to lie

user175: he's in the likes?

user176: girl? his girlfriend is being sued by his own family and is confessing that she was offered round the paddock like a prize cow i feel like he should be actively voicing his support

oscarpiastri: you're loved and have the full support of the paddock

maxverstappen1: we're behind you 100% of the way

olliebearman: nothing but full support for you mum

pierregasly: we're all here for you no matter what we're allowed to say

fernandoalo_oficial: 🫶

sebastianvettel: it'll all work out in the end

user177: still no charles ???

user178: eh i feel like pierre is confirming charles' support in his place

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 835,923 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: i'm missing my best friend has anyone seen her?

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user179: oh good i was just about to lose it from y/n and max withdrawals

user180: at least one of the trio of dumbasses is keeping us fed

yourusername: i miss you toooooooooo :( (reply fast my lawyer has gone to the bathroom)

maxverstappen1: hurry up and win your lawsuit so we can go back to kicking ass and drinking gin and tonics

yourusername: i'm trying 🤞

maxverstappen1: and if i said it's time to red wedding them?

yourusername: i think we would be swiftly arrested

maxverstappen1: they can't arrest us our face cards are too strong

yourusername: well one of us is currently in court so what does that say about my face card

charles_leclerc: THAT YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL REGARDLESS FUCK THEM

this comment was liked by the author and @yourusername

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user181: so is that like confirmation that charles is back in PR jail in maranello

user182: right i understand that he's literally employed by them but like he's also a grown ass man who can speak up

user183: like i know max isn't obviously at ferrari and isn't contractually obligated to be teammates with carlos but even he's out here slamming him

user184: and oscar who's only in his SECOND year in the sport

oscarpiastri: bold assumption that you're the best friend max

maxverstappen1: let's not get too rowdy piastri i can deal with you as the 'child' - you cannot be a bestie as well

oscarpiastri: i don't think that's the exact rules

maxverstappen1: you'll soon learn that I MAKE THE RULES AROUND HERE BUSTER

oscarpiastri: i can't wait for y/n to kick their asses so she can come back and KICK YOURS FOR ME

maxverstappen1: she would NEVER

oscarpiastri: okay maybe she wouldn't, but my dad on the other hand ...

liked by @charles_leclerc

user185: charles just PLEASE GET ON THE MIC

user186: i'm about to lose my patience i'm not going to lie

user187: guys we have to remember that this is a complicated situation with a lot of different moving parts, as long as charles is there for her in REAL LIFE it doesn't matter what we're seeing

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carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, user190 and 308,994 others

carlossainz55: what was it you said? all is fair in love and poetry.

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user191: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

user192: not the childhood dog too ???

user193: these are unbelievable levels of hating

user194: i'd be impressed if he wasn't such an asshole

maxverstappen1: get fucked

carlossainz55: she shouldn't dish it out if she can't take it

maxverstappen1: she fell in love ?? and you thought that was a good excuse to take everything she's ever had

carlossainz55: she cost me my dream

maxverstappen1: as far i can remember, she's not on the fucking FERRARI BOARD GENIUS

carlossainz55: it's her pussy-whipped boyfriend that's the problem and she deserved this as soon as she choose him over her blood

maxverstappen1: you're insane and history will always remember you as the biggest crybaby loser to ever grace this sport

user195: so this ^^ is definitely referring to y/n's poetry

user196: are we living through scooter braun volume two

user197: @taylorswift PLEASE HELP

charles_leclerc: EAT SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL

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charles_leclerc: you are the lowest of the low and you will get what is coming to you

this comment was deleted

charles_leclerc: there's only so long i have to stay silent and the people will know just the type of person you are

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user198: so is like carlos deleting this comments or ferrari?

user199: i bet it's ferrari

user200: 1. can they stop being allergic to fun 2. i think this has gotten past the need to uphold image like these are your employees and this is serious actually

user201: also like silencing charles when its CARLOS BEING THE MESSY ONE HE IS ACTUALLY STILL YOUR EMPLOYEE

yourusername: old habits die screaming

carlossainz55: you can spout all the 'poetry' you want it'll all belong to me anyway

yourusername: i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning

user202: stealing poetry? now that's a new low

user203: i'm gonna need someone to take one for the team and put a cheeky front wing in his tyre

georgerussell63: well this sounds like a job for me

charles_leclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 893,450 others

charles_leclerc: lets go racing.

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user206: is this even charles? where are the emojis? where is the excitement

user207: i think we might be witnessing a lil PR takeover after his deleted comments tirade under carlos' recent post

user208: you'd think they'd at least get his tone right like the rest of his account is RIGHT THERE

user209: charles leclerc's PR team we now have beef

liked by @yourusername

maxverstappen1: ugh you people are useless

oscarpiastri: i'm not going to lie i'm losing my patience

maxverstappen1: for real i'm gonna need this court case to finish up fast so we can get back to being a united front of haters

oscarpiastri: and then we can also wrestle charles' phone back by force

olliebearman: PLEASE KNOW THIS ISN'T ME I LOVE Y/N AND WE WILL LIVE TO KICK ASS AGAIN

user210: oh so they quite literally took his phone?

olliebearman: whoops

user210: ollie coming for kid of the year

olliebearman: i can't be told off for accidentally leaving my phone out while in the car and accidentally making my password something easy to remember and accidentally telling charles that his PR team had posted something - accident i swear

user211: @maxverstappen1 can you confirm they're still grossly in love?

maxverstappen1: i do have the letters to prove so but i think he's going insane with withdrawals

user212: that's it GET ME TO MARANELLO RIGHT THIS SECOND I HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE

user213: yo i know we just got some confirmation from max but i can't help but think how lonely this must be for y/n

user214: for real if i was being sued by my family and had everything stolen from me i'd want more than some 'confirmation' through her bff in an instagram comment

carlossainz55: i hate to say i told you so @yourusername but that would be a lie i'm enjoying this so much

maxverstappen1: i want to fight you so bad but my therapist said that's bad

oscarpiastri: it's also illegal?

maxverstappen1: what's the point of being a rich white man oscar if i can't use to it to traverse the justice system and defend my bestie's honour

user215: @charles_leclerc get a backbone and do it like these two ^^

user216: i still have faith that he'll rain hell on that family when he's free

user217: well can he hurry the fuck up cause he's really shaping up to be the worst boyfriend of the year

user218: he has to get fucking loud HE CAN'T PROVE CARLOS RIGHT I DON'T WANT TO LIVE IN THAT WORLD

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 934,520 others

yourusername: i can do it with a broken heart

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user223: no no NO WE'RE NOT DOING ALL THIS GUESSING GAME SHIT WHAT WAS THE VERDICT?

user224: it's finished?

user225: that's what the spanish media are saying

user224: well in that case Y/N WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE YOUR POETRY BACK?

maxverstappen1: a wine evening without me? prison changed you

user225: SHE'S IN PRISON?

yourusername: STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: want me to put some money in the commissary so you can buy cigarettes?

yourusername: i don't even smoke and i'M NOT IN JAIL

maxverstappen1: now you've done time can you employ some stricter parenting on oscar and ollie, they've gotten unruly with both parents absent

yourusername: i'm not an absent mother :(

oscarpiastri: SHE'S VERY PRESENT SHE'S BEEN TO EVERY RECITAL SHE CAN IN HER CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES

maxverstappen1: did you just refer to literal FORMULA ONE GRAND PRIXS AS RECITALS?

oscarpiastri: maybe i did

yourusername: he's allowed to call them what he wants

olliebearman: i feel sufficiently supported by you mum x

yourusername: i'm glad

olliebearman: family dinner when dad gets released from ferrari's top secret base jail?

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maxverstappen1: did he just get sniped by ferrari's PR?

user226: okay cool got the main kids update but WHAT ABOUT LEO?

user227: please tell me he's been been in good care

yourusername: he's been my rock 🤞

user228: not the dog being more present than charles - it would be funny if it wasn't so sad :(

user229: so are any of you going to address the literal caption of this post

user230: there's two options here she either lost the court case or her and charles have actually broken up

user231: the fact carlos is not in this comment section actively gloating makes me think she might have actually won?

user232: but i don't want it to be the other option... charles and y/n are end game :(

user233: but he's been so so silent and that BULLSHIT response in the press conference

user234: idk the delusion in me has this theory ... she won the case but like t swift, doesn't have access to her old work so maybe she's heartbroken over losing that and then it's just exacerbated by her boyfriend's useless bosses that are holding him captive in italy (also he was totally coached to say that shit in the presser it's written all over his strangely expressive face)

user235: at this point i might go to italy and just prison break him out of there this is ridiculous

fin.

note: DON'T HATE ME YALL i promise it'll get better we must have faith in the man (i know i hate to put my faith in men) xx

extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. GOJŌ SATORU┊ "Doesn't the idea of not wearing panties in front of strangers turn you on?" he plans the seed.

tags. (18+), husband gojo, he hm smells your panties and other things (he loves you believe me), lowkey (highly) exhibitionism, reader with female anatomy (she/her pronouns).

You check Satoru a second time, only to realize that your eyes weren't deceiving you and that he really was smiling at nothing, his long fingers clapping the steering wheel every now and then to the rhythm of the song playing in the background on the radio and the third time your eyes land on him your back stiffens, with the seat belt still hugging your body you turn to see him, though the pressure of the belt doesn't allow you to move freely.

"Why are you smiling?" you ask, mimicking the same smile, like a mirror.

"I can't smile when looking at my beautiful wife?" Wife. Ever since you got married Satoru hadn't stopped calling you that, and even though you liked it and it always made you feel warm inside....

You obviously don't believe him. Not this time. The smile you still possessed paired with a furrowed brow, examining him in a way that would help you verify if he was telling the truth or not.   

You didn't believe him one bit. "What are you planning?" you insist again, still admiring his profile, Satoru hadn't bothered to look at you, busy not missing a green light.

"Remember the other day when we were playing uno and I won..." ... okay?

"You cheated," you reproach almost immediately, crossing your arms. You had the same posture as that night when you caught him with four cards hidden inside the joggers. 

"Whatever you want to believe, baby, I did not." You click your tongue and roll your eyes going back to your initial stance, you weren't going to argue with him again, that day you only let him win because Nanami and Geto decided not to fight and let him win.

"Whatever," you say. Fixing your eyes on the road you realize that you were a few corners away from reaching the restaurant.

"Anyway..." Out of the corner of your eye you notice the lopsided grin adorning his face. "It's time to pay."

"What do you want? For me to admit I'm a sore loser?" You turn your attention back to him, his finger with the gold wedding ring gleaming under the streetlights.

"I want your panties," he commands, claiming his prize (prize he won by cheating, you want to emphasize).

You blink, trying to verify that you just heard what you think you just heard. "What. No."

"A deal is a deal..."

"You cheated!" you accuse him again, and satoru's lopsided grin turns into a full-on grin showing you his fangs. "You're going to pay for this."

Satoru parks a few feet outside the fancy restaurant, the colors of the restaurant inside splashing all the way outside. Only when the car's engine dies does he tilt his body to look at you, you see determination and temptation in his face, those blue eyes are bathed from the street lights and the darkness inside the car, bringing you the details of his incomplete features.

"Doesn't the idea of not wearing panties in front of strangers turn you on?" he plans the seed. "In front of Suguru, in front of Kento..." satoru adds. "Because it turns me on a lot to know that only I know that you have a naked pussy, probably dripping on the chair."

You stand still for a moment, processing everything he just said as the birth of a smile stretches his lips slowly and an uncomfortable warmth creeps from your chest, face and ends in the form of a rush in your pussy.

You curse yourself because you can feel how the idea makes you wet.

Satoru laughs at your reaction knowing he has won, he stretches out his hand waiting for his prize.

You curse again, now out loud. You lift your ass off the leather seat to help you slide your underwear off with ease, you slide them down your legs and embarrassedly hand them into his hands, by which time Satoru was forcing a wicked smile to disappear.

Without any hesitation he brings them to his nose, inhaling until his lungs remember the scent of your pussy. Then he pushes them into the pockets of his pants. You stand there, still at the scene. It's not the first time he did it, but you were forced to check the street to verify that no one else had seen what had just happened.

"You're so fucking hot, you know that, don't you?" he looks down your body, focusing especially on your thighs. "I love the way that dress looks on you, I knew it was made for you as soon as I saw it."

Within seconds Satoru leaves his seat and walks across the short walk to your door, opening it for you. You realize he planned this all along. The dinner, the dress he bought especially for you (that barely comes down across your thighs and if you're not careful you might show your pussy)....

Satoru reaches out and feigning indignation you take it, stepping out of the car as you arrange your dress down, the fresh breeze caresses your slit and hits your clit. Satoru squeezes your hand, the coolness of the ring sending shivers down your back, into your abdomen.

"It's going to be a fun night," Satoru says.

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[siderealcity]

So, one of the things I love about Dawntrail is the way the four competitors are introduced and framed.

Spoilers ahead.

We meet Wuk Lamat first. She's the reason we're here. But we'll come back to her.

So then, Zoraal Ja. He doesn't speak a single word throughout his first appearance. Even when approached, the first, and only, thing he does is tell his lackey to talk for him.

Look at what Erenville says about him when he exits the palace to the cheering of the crowd:

Erenville: Zoraal Ja. The First Promise and commander of the Landsguard. Sareel Ja, the palace seer. As he was so careful to remind the crowd, Zoraal Ja is indeed the natural child of Gulool Ja Ja. Alphinaud: And “Resilient Son”? Is that another title, like the First Promise? Erenville: After a fashion. Common knowledge has it that two-headed Mamool Ja cannot sire children… Yet Zoraal Ja was born all the same, with the Head of Resolve's features and the Head of Reason's scales─an extraordinary example of life's unyielding resilience. Alisaie: And a warrior's reticence. He says little, but the way he moves… I know a hardened soldier when I see one. Erenville: He's a natural swordsman─a gift he inherited from his father. Some even say that the son has already surpassed the sire. Should he come to power, the First Promise means to employ that martial prowess in the conquest of foreign lands. For this, he and his supporters have been labeled expansionists. This puts him in direct opposition to Wuk Lamat, who advocates for the preservation of peace. You may recall that she spoke of a claimant who “cannot be allowed to rule.” That is Zoraal Ja─the warmonger.

Zoraal Ja is clearly framed as the favorite by all of Tural to win the contest, but look at how Erenville describes him. Every compliment is instantly returned to his father. He's the Resilient Son, whose impossible birth was a miracle only Gulool Ja Ja could have managed. Look, see how much he resembles both his fathers. His sword skills are great--he inherited them from his father.

He resents his siblings because they, being adopted, are granted nothing by nature. Everything they get from their father is learned. Not innate. Koana's studies and Wuk Lamat's people skills are theirs. He doesn't see Bakool Ja Ja as a threat because they're too similar. All that makes both of them special came from their parents. But Koana, he sees as a threat or a useful tool. Koana has been recognized for what he's done on his own.

He's the perfect example of the pressures of the first-born child, even though we never get the impression that his father puts any pressure on him at all. It's the public who puts the full weight of their expectations on him, purely for a quirk of birth. Everything's expected of him, but if he succeeds it's not because of him, but because he's his father's son. Which is maybe why he refuses to engage with the people at all.

That's… going to come back to haunt us all later.

Then there's Koana. When Bakool Ja Ja insults his older brother, whom he desperately does not want to win this contest, he immediately jumps to Zoraal Ja's defense. The supporters who approach him don't have anything to say about him at all, they just want cool stuff. Bring us trains and airships and magitek doodads! He escapes from them as awkwardly as humanly possible. And note how differently Erenville describes him:

Erenville: Here we have Koana, the Second Promise, who spent time as a pupil at Sharlayan's own Studium. Alisaie: Now that you mention it, I think I did see him in the halls once or twice. There was nothing to suggest he was Turali, much less from a royal family. Erenville: That was by design. He forewent his usual garb and took an Eorzean name to avoid attention. Alphinaud: So it was Koana who introduced the dirigibles. And the railway, too, given what we just heard…? Erenville: In furtherance of his goal: to enrich Tuliyollal with every bright notion he learned of in Sharlayan. He is the hope of those who prize innovation. As aloof as he may seem, Koana and Wuk Lamat actually get along rather well. They bicker and banter as only close siblings do.

He was a student at the Studium, but we don't hear of any other achievements there. No graduating with honors. No inventions of his own. His accomplishments are mostly… being a royal, and therefore in a position to get other people's ideas implemented in Tural. And he seems to feel that. He doesn't want to be noticed, doesn't want to be lauded, won't take the encouragement of his followers, and doesn't promise them anything because he doesn't feel like he can.

He is very much caught in the middle all the time.

Between his love for his brother, who doesn't love him back, and whom he knows can't be allowed to rule, and his sense of duty to his nation. Between his feelings of inadequacy and his fear of failure. Between Tural and Sharlayan. Between his beloved baby sister and the contest that makes them rivals. Between his ideals and reality.

Perfect middle child.

Then we get Bakool Ja Ja. The outsider.

We know from the Dawnservant's introduction of the rite that historically only two-headed mamool ja were allowed to rule. He is set up, then, as the symbol of the old order.

And the moment he steps outside, the crowd goes wild.

He isn't the Dawnservant's son, but he is, as far as most of those onlookers are concerned, the next Gulool Ja Ja. The person who reacts most negatively to his appearance and bravado, tellingly, is a boonewa. A member of one of the clans that actually makes blessed siblings. That's… that's going to be meaningful later. Unlike the two claimants who preceded him, nobody asks him for anything. His supporters don't support him because they think he can help them. They support him because of what he is.

Erenville's description of him is notably brief:

Erenville: The chosen of Mamook, Bakool Ja Ja. Winner of the recent martial tournament, and the only claimant not of the Dawn's Promise. His strength is undeniable, but…you see how he is. A few devoted Mamool Ja are his only supporters. Krile: What would he do with the throne should he win it? Erenville: His policies and so forth? I doubt he's thought much beyond winning the contest itself. But one thing seems certain: if he does become Dawnservant, he will see the Mamool Ja exalted as the ruling class, and all others forced into subservience.

And yet… he's not the one Wuk Lamat was afraid of winning. Which is somewhat prophetic foreshadowing, really. Bakool Ja Ja is the only claimant who has no thoughts of the future. He has to win this contest because he exists. That's it. That's all there is.

He has to win because blessed siblings always win. If they don't… then why should they even exist?

That's… yeah.

And finally, Wuk Lamat emerges from the palace. With her mom.

If it wasn't clear before that she's the baby of the family, the fact that she makes her grand public appearance as a contender for the throne with her nursemaid should be a clue.

We have, at the moment that Erenville asks if we're sure we really want to be part of this, so far seen her wander off distracted in Sharlayan, get panicked by a talking bird, eat her weight in barbequed monster, and get extremely seasick. The one thing we know she wants out of this contest is to stop Zoraal Ja from starting a war the second he takes the throne. She is doing this, not because she wants power or has a vision for Tural, but because she opposes a bad vision.

She is so much the underdog in this contest that most of the crowd left before she appeared, assuming the show was over, and what's remaining is standing within earshot gossipping about how pathetic she is compared to the others.

Wuk Lamat is constantly in someone else's shadow. Her father. Her elder brothers. That random guy who got in here somehow. Sphene, when we get to Alexandria. She's invisible, and she seems to feel like that's just how things work. Even the soldiers who meet us at the docks need to take a minute before they realize who she is.

Erenville doesn't say anything about her, though he has a few words about how her supporters are mostly the elderly who remember the war. (I would imagine that includes a lot of non-elderly shetona, too.) But he doesn't really have to talk her up. The Reigning King of Dry Understatement may have insisted back in Sharlayan that they are not friends, merely long-standing acquaintances, but when she asked him for advice about finding allies for the contest, he recommended a god-slayer. Talk about fixing the fight. Not just recommended, he dropped what he was doing and went back across the ocean to recruit them. He could have pointed her at the Students of Baldesion. He was working with them already. Instead, he came back to Sharlayan and asked the Students to go get WoL. A person he knows is capable of crossing the entire universe to avert the apocalypse and also, for some reason, stopping to catch stray marmots along the way. He really wants her win. He just won't quite say that out loud.

"As you just witnessed, Wuk Lamat has no great army of supporters. Not yet, at least." Oh, Erenville.

[surftrips]

HEADCANONS — FLIRTY ACADEMIC RIVALS w/ CORIOLANUS SNOW

you're not sure when the rivalry started, but for as long as you could remember, you were always sat next to coriolanus snow in class, whether by assignment or choice. neither of you actually hated the other, it was more a friendly competition born out of your strong feelings for each other that neither of you trusted yourselves with, so you resorted to teasing and playful mockery.

both of you care very much about your academics, snow on his way to win the plinth prize, and you, eager to impress your parents and secure a job in the capitol. when you put two highly ambitious and motivated students next to each other, it was no wonder you were always top of your classes. some people called you the power couple, but you denied the latter half of that term.

"where's your little boyfriend?" sejanus had asked one day. "how many times do i have to tell you, he's not my boyfriend!" you responded. "tell me then, why haven't either of you dated anyone?"

the easy answer to that question, and the one you always resorted to was that you simply had no time for dating right now. never mind the fact that you've been using that excuse for your whole life.

corio, on the other hand, never denied the dating rumors. not because there was any truth to them, but more so to annoy you. "corio, did you tell professor crane we were going to formal together?" "yes, what's wrong?" he feigned innocence. "what's wrong? you told him we were going together! as in boyfriend girlfriend!" "i still don't see the issue."

most days, he drove you crazy. and he probably wasn't even aware of his affect on you. shoulders touching when reading a textbook together, quickly pulling away his hand when your fingers went to turn the page at the same time, pretending not to be flustered on the rare occasion he gave you a compliment.

other times, it was nice to have him sat by your side. for example, the nights when you stayed up late studying often led to you dozing off in class, leaning on corio's shoulder until he gently nudged you off, "hey, sleepyhead. what time did you go to sleep?" he would tease.

the best classes were the ones you took with a professor that you both mutually hated— you could hardly control your laughter when he whispered a remark in your ear, or the shivers that he sent down your spine from being in such close proximity to you.

one time, he found you hiding in a corner of the library after receiving a particularly bad grade on a test. you had abruptly left him in the hallway, claiming that you had an "important phone call" to take, but of course, he knew you well enough to know that something was wrong and you needed space. thirty minutes later, he was pulling you off the floor and taking you out to ice cream.

"my girl," he said, wiping off your tear-stained cheeks. "what can i do to make you feel better?" you had wanted to kiss him right then and there, to resolve the tension between you two once and for all, but you didn't want your first kiss to be under these circumstances.

life in the capitol was not as glamorous as everyone else made it out to be. you faced an immense pressure to perform well, uphold the reputation of your family, and be successful, and most of the time you felt alone and exhausted. but coriolanus was always there for you, when things were good, and especially when things got bad.

[auspicioustidings]

Based on this. You are in Finland full of self-loathing and the 141 needs a fat wife if they want to win some beer.

You aren't exactly on holiday in Finland. It should be your honeymoon but since you caught your groom balls deep in your maid of honour you instead have used it as an escape from the country. You just cannot be around the people you love right now, can't have them all look at you with all that pity. Even worse is that some of them probably don't even blame him. Your former best friend is a size 8, perfect hourglass figure. Your former partner is trim and decently fit. They look like they belong together more than you and him ever did.

You hate yourself. You hate looking in the mirror. You hate how clothes fit you. You deserved it you think.

"Not a chance MacTavish, that's my wife!"

"Away and biel yer heid, I saw her first!"

"Actually I saw her first!"

"I outrank all of you muppets so I think you'll find that is my wife!"

It's a racket in the little cafe but you don't pay much mind, still just staring out the window and wondering if you could ever deserve anything. One of the servers comes to take your empty cup and grins at you, telling you in her heavy accent that she would personally go for the one with the mask since he's the biggest. You don't understand when you look around and there are a lot of locals smiling happily over at you while four Greek Gods of men are having a scuffle, moving slowly in your direction. More people chip in, arguing about who you should pick, some lamenting that they would claim you themselves if they thought they could.

One big man does try, basically some Viking God, but he's playfully (you hope it's playful) spear tackled by the man with the mohawk before he laughs and backs off.

When Gaz with warmed cheeks and excitement in his eyes gets to you while Soap is busy with the viking and Ghost and Price are wrestling one another he asks if you'd do him the honour of being his wife. You nearly choke, but he explains that the wife carrying competition is today. You look around, bewildered, ask him why he wouldn't pick any of the other women in here given that they are all gorgeous slim things.

"Fuck all use to us, need a nice soft bird with lots of fat" says the man in the mask.

Price scowls and whacks his lieutenant upside the head because he sees how you look a second away from crying.

"You're gorgeous sweetheart, he didn't mean anything by it. The prize is the wife's weight in beer though, so he's right about a little lady not being much use."

You don't know what to say. You don't know if this is mortifying or not given that everyone around you seems to not be looking at you with sneers or laughing at you, but instead looking with soft smiles that convey fondness. They think this is adorable.

"Dinnae listen tae their nice soft birds and sweethearts! I'll be a better husband bonnie. I'm shorter aye bit look at the power in these legs, naw going tae drop ye. And I'll split that beer 50/50!"

And then they're arguing. The four of them are arguing and trying to put forward a case to you about why they would be the best husband. When it starts to get raunchy, you fluster and stop them. But fluster is something. It's not self loathing. It's been weeks since you felt anything but self loathing. So even though you are sure everyone can feel the heat rolling off of you in waves at how bashful you are under so much attention from such attractive men, you pick one (the others are devastated but vow that you're only a wife for the competition, that after they should get another shot at convincing you that they're the best option).

And they do. Even though the man you picked doesn't win (gets DQ'd actually since you are heavy and he decided that you were getting over that damn finish line so the four of them took turns) they take you out for drinks after. You think you feel humiliated that they couldn't carry you a long distance, but you don't have time to sit with the feeling because they drown it out with how warm and giddy they make you feel.

They insist that they will compete next year, so you have 365 days to pick a husband. When you make a quiet comment about how you'll lose weight by then so they can carry you the whole way, they nearly riot as they assure you that they would be a shit pick for husband if they didn't spent the year getting stronger so they can carry you just how you are. Plus they'll not be losing any beer thank you very much.

By the time the next wife carrying competition rolls around you are a different person. You're wearing clothes that fit instead of trying to hide your body. You laugh and flirt back with the barista instead of assuming they are making fun of you by flirting. And you don't care if your husband makes it over the finish line, just that you have fun and laugh and joke about the attempt. Of course it's not entirely certain who that husband is yet, got to keep them on their toes after all.

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[s-vtoru]

where's my reward? | wriothesley x reader

ᡴꪫ summary: wriothesley comes to you, his biggest cheerleader, after winning his 5th boxing match this week. he expects a reward for his hard work and who are you to deny him? pairing: boxer!wriothesley x fem!reader warnings: smut, praise kink (wrio), pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl), p in v, porn with plot, breeding kink, implied pregnancy

wriothesley was in the ring, throwing punches to the face and gut of his opponent, almost rarely receiving them from the other end. one uppercut and left jab from the duke left his combatant on the floor gasping for air, covered in bruises and a bloody nose. cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd around the arena as wriothesley was deemed the winner, or champion rather, which happened almost every time. as he held the belt given to him, showing off his well-earned prize off to the crowd, he spotted you just a few feet away from the rink screaming his name and cheering for him. seeing you apart of the crowd, his number one fan, it was his sole reason to keep on going in his boxing career. you are his motivation.

a few interviews and photograph signing later, he was completely spent. all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and head on home. so once he saw you waiting for him in his personal dressing room, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. you smiled warmly, "hi mr. champion," you spoke, turning your head to press a kiss onto his cheek. man was he happy to hear your sweet voice. "mm. hey," he pressed soft kisses against your neck, fingers messing with the bottom of your shirt. "you did great out there, wrio," you caressed his forearm with the pad of your thumb, the both of you swaying side to side. "thanks baby, couldn't have done it without you," and it was true, if he didn't have you, he wouldn't have made it this far. he wouldn't have been one of the top 3 best boxers in the world.

having you in his arms never got old. he loved feeling your body against his big, bulky frame. remember how spent he was earlier? well, not so much anymore. with you in front of him, looking all pretty in those tight leggings and compression long sleeve shirt with his name on the back that hugged your figure oh so nicely, you can feel his growing bulge against your ass. "i figured you'd be tired after such a long match, but i suppose not?" he chuckled against your shoulder, looking at you through the vanity mirror in front of you both. "well, i was. but then i thought about how i won and.." you raised your eyebrow, not really knowing where he was going with this. "and what?" you could feel him smirk against your skin, his deep gaze on your body and your pretty lips.

"where's my reward?"

".. reward?" you repeated, still confused for a moment before realizing what he meant by 'reward'. "shouldn't i be rewarded for winning today's match and for all my hard work?" a laugh left your lips, turning your body to look at him fully. "oh why yes, of course," you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, a grin spread across your lips. "what would be a good enough reward for you, hm?" wriothesley hummed, ocean blue hues glued to your lips as he came up with an idea. "well, i think this pretty girl in front of me would make a pretty good reward. don't you think?" your cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, getting a bit embarrassed by his words but you pull him closer, your lips just a mere centimeters apart. "then you can have this reward you speak of in any way you want. how's that sound?" your tone was gentle, alluring. a deep chuckle left his lips, his smirk only widening, "sounds perfect," his lips crashed against yours eagerly, hands already finding purchase on your ass.

his leg found its way in between your legs, knee pressing right up against your clothed cunt. you could feel him smiling against your lips, a whimper being pulled out of you from the friction his knee gave you. your panties were already ruined, your slick creating a wet patch on them as well as your leggings. "w—wrio.." you mumbled in the kiss, his tongue finding the opportunity to flood your mouth, dancing against yours in a coinciding rhythm. he tugged on your bottom lip, a fervorous growl leaving his lips. "fuck, you're already so wet for me.. and i barely did anything to you," his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. he wanted to bed you over and fuck you right then and there with no hesitation, but he needed to hold back. just for a while longer.

his head dipped down to your neck, his lips sucking light red marks onto your soft skin that would soon darken in due time. his canines spent no time in leaving their own mark on you, biting down with ease, but not hard enough to cause you any pain but a slight sting. the duke's hips rutted against the fat of your ass, his painfully hardened cock grinding against you with a kind of desperation you knew very well. however, you gathered his attention by cupping his cheeks with your small palms, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "wait.. let me," you retracted your hands, slowly lowering down to your knees, face to face with the bulge portruding through his shorts, "reward you."

wriothesley's cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson that stretched to the tips of his ears, watching you get down on your knees for him. he licked his lips at the sight of you, his expression contorted with lust and need. "by all means, please," a little grin spread comfortably across your lips, pulling down his shorts and underwear in one swift motion, watching his cock spring out excitedly. a content sigh left your boyfriends lips, finally feeling relieved from the confines of his clothing. you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking at a teasingly slow pace that made him grunt. you took your time with him, wanting him to savor every small motion you made as you kept eye contact with him the whole time. after a few slow strokes, you sank your mouth down onto him, absolutely reveling in the way the all time champion shakily groaned.

"oh— fuuck— , that's it.." he placed his hand on top of your head, biting his lower lip at the feeling of your warm mouth around his girth. you swirled your tongue around his cock skillfully, tracing the thick vein all the way down to the base, the dark hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose. he admired how talented you were at sucking his dick, and that tongue of yours — the way it prodded at his slit before taking him back into your mouth with hallowed cheeks — it drove him crazy beyond words. those lewd noises of you choking on his cock was almost enough to bring him to the brink of release, tasting the pre that leaked from his tip as you held onto his thighs for support.

his dick twitched against your tongue, letting you know he was getting close. "baby, mph— i'm close.. gonna cum in your pretty mouth, okay?" you nodded your head in response, your movements picking up pace as you sucking his cock faster, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. you were growing needy yourself, one of your hands reaching down to rub your cunt through your leggings. your muffled moans sent vibrations against his shaft, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in your throat. at this rate he was panting like an animal in heat, desperate for release so he can hurry up and fill your pussy with his seed next. he placed his other hand on your head, using both of his hands to eagerly fuck his cock into your throat. tears fell down your cheeks from his tip reaching the depths of your mouth. "feels so good baby, shit.. i—i'm gonna—"

one, two, and three more thrusts had him leaning his head back with a drawn out moan, shooting his cum down your throat just like he said he would. you gripped onto his thigh tighter, not letting a single drop of his release go to waste. you swallowed every last bit of his cum, ignoring the salty and bitter aftertaste. "that's a good girl," he stroked your hair with a proud grin on his face, taking his still very much hard shaft out of your mouth. you stood up on your feet, wriothelsey immediately turning you around and bending you over the vanity while he tucked his face in the crook of your neck. "need to be inside you, please.. i need to fuck you, baby," you let out a giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips with a alluring smile, "go ahead, wrio.. this is your reward after all, right?" your voice was sweet like honey, yet had a hint of spice to it that sent your black haired boyfriend over the edge.

he spent no time in pulling your leggings and panties down to your ankles and disregarding them completely, just aching to be inside you already. he turned your face towards him by your chin, kissing you hungrily as two of his fingers rubbed circles around your clit. your moans were music to his ears, sending blood streaming straight to his throbbing cock. he gave his shaft a few strokes before pressing his tip against your hole that clenched around nothing, dying to be filled up by your champion of a lover. "gonna put in inside you now, okay?" you hummed, feeling his fat tip ease itself inside of you, sending a stinging sensation through your body. wriothesley was by no means small; he was quite literally big. so as he pushed his massive girth entirely inside you, you gasped at the sudden stretch, beginning to adjust to it.

"you alright, angel? did it hurt?" you loved how sweet he was, how much he wanted to make sure you were okay. that was just how he is, not wanting to hurt you at all. you shook your head, "i—i'm okay, wrio.. just hurry up..," you could hear him scoff, sliding out of you and bottoming out again into your cunt, ripping a moan out of you. "someones impatient, huh?" you nudged him softly leaning your head back on his shoulder as he slowly began to move his hips. "you're— mmf.. s—shit.. one to talk," your voice was shaky, covering your mouth to repress any further noises from reaching anywhere out of the room you both were in. "yeah, i suppose you're right," wriothesley's thrusts became more frequent, biting your lip at the pleasure of his cock in your greedy cunt.

he pressed soft kisses over the marks he left on you earlier, balls deep inside you with his pace quickening with each passing second. it felt like heaven inside of you, feeling your pussy grip onto his thick cock as he took hold of your jaw, turning your attention to the mirror in front of you. "want you to watch me fuck you, watch me earn this pretty reward," he bullied his length into your dripping cunt, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. the pleasure took over your body completely, your vision going white as his tip repeatedly kissed that sweet spongey spot that made you see stars. you uncovered your mouth, drool sneaking passed the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin.

you loved the way wriothesley fucked you, it was filled with love and lust even if it was rough at the same time. you can tell his movements were sturdy and skilled with the way his hips thrusted his cock deep within your womb, heat rising throughout your whole body. "you did so g—good today wrio, 'm so proud of you!" and you really were, you were so so proud of him. and even though you meant that in a totally innocent way, it set something off inside of the man fucking you from behind. he cursed under his breath, his dick somehow getting bigger inside of you. "w—wrio? you—"

"say it again. tell me how proud you are of me."

you didn't think he'd be the type of person so be into being praised, let alone get aroused by it. but you didn't mind at all, because you truly were extremely proud of him. you know how hard he worked to get where he is now. "i—i'm so so proud of you wrio, y—you did so good out there!" he chuckled to himself, his thrusts becoming more erratic and his heavy breaths turning into feral growls. he loved when you praised him, told him how good he did during his matches. he was an all-time winner, all because of you. and because of his hard work, but mainly you. "ngh.. f—fuck baby, it's all 'cause of you," his thrusts remotely became erratic, unable to stop the reckless pace of his hips slapping against your ass.

your back arched dangerously, allowing your boxing champion to sink his cock deeper within your walls, abusing your cervix in a way that had your legs trembling. wriothesley caught sight of your wavering legs, an idea forming inside that mischievous head of his. without warning, he lifted you up by your thighs, holding them with a fierce grip in his large hands. he fucked up into your pussy harshly, a gravelly groan leaving him as he did so. you could see his cock slip in and out of you through the mirror, watching him split you open with his girthy shaft. "w—wrio! too d—deep!" your moans only got louder, almost positive people from outside the room could hear what you both were up to. "shit, princess, look at you..," he latched his teeth onto your shoulder, wanting to mark you up as much as possible.

"fuck.. i'm gonna cum soon," his thrusts had gotten sloppy, pace faltering too, feeling his cock twitch eagerly against your gummy insides. "i—inside.. c—cum inside wrio.." your expression was all fucked out; mouth agape, tongue lolled out, practically begging him to empty his load into your womb. those words had only turned him on even more, a chuckle leaving him, "well shit, baby, gladly," his pace picked up instantly, his grip on your thighs now deadly as he pounded into you from below. you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, feeling that heat build up in the pit of your stomach. "c—cumming! i'm cumming—!" it didn't take long for that coil to unravel, squirting all over his cock, your juices coating the mirror in front of you. wriothesley was on the verge of cumming too once feeling your pussy pulse around him, sending blood rushing throughout his body.

a few more thrusts against your g-spot had him spilling his warm cum inside of you, a deep, shaky moan erupting from your boyfriend. you both took a minute to catch your breaths, you clearly losing all feeling in your lower body. he set you down on the vanity, grabbing your panties from the ground and slipping them up halfway. "wrio..?" you looked at him, only to be met with his scheming gaze. he watched as his cum seeped out of your gaping hole, using two digits to scoop his seed back up and push it inside of you. until then, that's when he slipped your panties up all the way. a wave of heat coated your cheeks letting out a content scoff. "can't let it go to waste now, can we?" you rolled your eyes at his comment, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "hmm, i guess not."

after getting you all dressed, himself included — him only having to zip up his pants and whatnot — he leaned closely into your ear, placing his hand over your tummy, giving it slow rubs. "after all, i don't mind having another cheerleader to cheer me on," he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you slow and passionately before continuing, "that would be a pretty amazing reward, no?"

[pickingupmymercedes]

“you’re so warm.” blurbs with lewis. reader is pregnant and the hormones is acting up so she's dying to give love bites on lewis' neck.

That was fun, maybe it has its own part 2 someday. Hope you like it anon!

"You're so warm"

The sun was beaming down on the sleek lines of their yacht, the Mediterranean Sea shimmering like it always did. Y/N, laid down on a chaise lounge in a breezy sundress, tried her best to relax.

Keyword: tried.

The reason for the unrest? Lewis, of course.

He was striding across the deck, phone on his hands, a mischievous grin plastered on his face, while he sported a pair of swim shorts, the kind that left very little to the imagination, and his adorned abs.

Y/N knew for a fact there were paparazzi lurking somewhere nearby, their long lenses trained on Lewis, as photos of their little summer getaway had already filled the gossip pages.

"Lewis?” she called out; her voice laced with mock sternness despite the fluttering in her stomach "care to explain why you're practically mooning the entire Italian coastline?"

Lewis chuckled, sauntering over to her with a playful strut "Just catching some rays, love" he winked. He leaned down, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Besides, who says I can't share the beauty with the world?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow and glared at him. He knew damn well what she meant. But still there he was, flaunting his abs to the world to see as she tried to hide the small, but very visible, tiny bump on her stomach.

"You are a menace," she mumbled, but couldn't help a smile tugging at her lips. He had been extra playful and carefree during the trip, a constant reminder of one of the many reasons she had chosen him.

"Jealous?" he teased, leaning in closer.

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. "You know I haven’t been the best at resisting you lately" she admitted, unable to tear her eyes from him, and succumbing to the urge of running her fingers across the expanse of his sculpted chest.

Lewis's grin widened. "Well then," he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "how about I give you a private show later?"

Y/N's whole face and neck flushed, her body temperature going up by at least a couple degrees. "Don't tempt me" she warned, though her voice lacked conviction.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "You’re so warm, babe. Something the matter?"

Y/N responded with the mischievous glint in her eyes. The pregnancy hormones, their new constant source of amusement and occasional bewilderment, were at it again.

"As a matter of fact" she declared puffing out her chest. Reaching out, she pulled him to her on the lounger, his arms holding his weight just above her as she gently nipped at the exposed skin just below his ear, leaving a faint mark.

Lewis yelped, more in surprise than pain, his hand flying to the exposed skin of her thighs. "Babe" he exclaimed, his voice sounding just like a warning more than anything.

She giggled, the sound his favorite melody. "There," she said, feigning satisfaction. "Now everyone knows who you belong to."

Lewis mused her a grin "Alright, alright," he conceded, shaking his head but unable to hide his amusement. "You win this one, love." He pulled her close, her warmth enveloping him.

"What’s my prize?" Y/N murmured, nuzzling into his chest.

"Tell you later" he teased, nuzzling back.

______________________________________________________________

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[saradika]

— beneath the mask

din djarin x f!reader

rated t - 1.3k

tags: medieval!au, light angst, anxiety, arranged marriage, soulmate au, reader has a mother & father

prompt: "I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly” from the writing challenge hosted by the amazing and lovely @moonlight-prose 💖

when a mysterious stranger wins your hand at the tournament, you can't help but wonder about his intentions

With each step down the aisle, your legs threaten to give out.

A clicking of your teeth as you tremble, before you're gritting your jaw, biting your anxiety back. You have a reputation to uphold, even if you're only the daughter of a lord from a lesser house.

You're still a lady.

And this marriage would ensure a home for you. Protection. More than, if this man is what he says he is.

But a part of you desperately wishes that it was someone else at the end of the aisle.

You'd searched for a long time. For the glimpses that flash in your dreams at night. Knowing that he was out there - the one you had begun to think of as yours.

Your soulmate.

Never managing to meet the same eyes that reflect back at you in the darkness, just before you wake. Not once in the hundreds, thousands of people you’ve looked at, throughout your years.

And when none were found, you slowly gave up. Knowing the world was too large and you were too small, too poor, to seek them out.

Eventually agreeing to the match that your mother and father arranged.

If you could not have him, then you did not want anyone.

And now - the figure that waits for you stands tall.

Encased in gleaming armor, showing none of the nerves that wrack you. Making you wonder if you should have protested. Taken the path of the unwed, even if there was hardship in your future.

The stranger had won your favor, in the tournament. That is how the story will be told, passed on by your father.

Looking back, you remember very little from it. Knowing deep down that the winner would be the one to have your hand, whether you liked it or not. So much of it had turned to haze, as you had sat frozen there.

All but too nervous to watch, as weapons clashed, shields splintering.

Men you had known and grown up with falling beneath the sword of the mysterious man, clad in silver armor.

A Mandalorian, it was rumored.

Something from stories, you didn't know they still existed. An ancient clan of knights and warriors, honoring weapons and myths over sworn deities. Never revealing their faces to outsiders, and sometimes even to their own.

He had never killed any of them, and there was some comfort in that.

But that didn't mean he did not wound.

That he wasn't vicious, ferocious on the battlefield. Driven by an unseen force. Unrelenting, even when blood was drawn - splattering a bright crimson against his armor.

Showing just how he came to earn his station. The leader of his tribe, from the whispers you heard. Traveling far - slipping into the last few open brackets in the tournament, just as the first morning was starting.

Ripping through them all, in the days that followed.

You were given as the prize, in the end.

Even before the day ends, you would belong to him - ferried off to a new life tomorrow.

And this is what also slows your feet.

Wondering why such a man would come for you.

At the end of the aisle, you halt. The clergymany is speaking, but it's all white noise. Your own eyes wide and face solemn as you stare at your betrothed - your features reflected back at you in the tinted glass of his visor.

Acutely aware that you haven't seen his face. Not knowing what your husband was to look like.

Was he younger than you? Or older... older than your father?

Was his face kind, or was it as sharp as his movements? Was it all snarling teeth, beneath?

Were his eyes blue, or green, or just maybe... brown? Like his?

You don't know. You think not. Leaving you to wonder how you will bear it - to spend each day staring into their eyes while dreaming of anothers.

It's only when a voice raises that you're snapped from your thoughts. Realizing that the ceremony is waiting for you.

Managing, with a stammer, to repeat the words. To pledge yourself - your life and love - to this stranger.

The words repeated after, a low voice layering with metal. The shaking of your hands is still visible when they reach out to meet his, the tips of yours resting against wide, steady palms.

Covered in gloves but solid, like the rest of him.

Only the peek of tanned skin visible when he peels the glove from his hand. A small comfort coming in the warmth of his hand, as you slip the ring on his finger, settling it just above a scarred knuckle.

The careful brush of his fingers - a calming stroke against your skin, when he slips a matching one on yours.

Gentle, after everything.

Not him.

But perhaps, not a monster.

The celebrations swirl past you. There's music you don't remember. A meal that sits heavy in your stomach, from the meager amounts you managed to swallow.

A smile plastered on - assuring your excitement to family and friends - all while you worry about the hours to come.

Will he be as gentle as he was during the ceremony?

Or will it be more like the battlefield?

These thoughts linger, as the hours pass. Until the sun dips below the horizon, until the stars blanket the sky.

And then, you're alone.

Waiting in the finest room prepared for him in the guest wing. The pretty, ivory gown stripped from you, replaced with something thin and fine and silver - hand-sewn and intended to please him.

Pacing, until you hear the heavy steps approaching - as he returns from a meeting with your father, your dowry and your life handed over.

Leaving you frozen in place, as the door opens. Where he lingers, filling the space.

A different man than before, you think.

There had not been a slope to his shoulders, the way he moves as if afraid to frighten you.

His voice is different too - soft now, coaxing.

"I wish our meeting had been under more pleasant circumstances." Your husband tells you, as the door slowly shuts behind him.

Trapping you, now. The iron latch heavy, as it locks into place.

"But I could not bear to stand by." He continues, that hard edge creeping into his voice again, "You must understand."

"I don't." You manage - your brow pinched, shifting the smallest step backwards as he moves forward.

He goes still, at your retreat.

"Do you not, ner kar’ta?" His head tilts, "Do you not know why I have come?"

The shake of your head is small. Not understanding the name he calls you, his intentions.

He hesitates then, for a second. Before his hands are reaching - grasping the edge of his helmet. Slipping it from his head, as his head dips.

His hair is dark, beneath. Messy and curling, greying at the temples, down to the scruff that lines his jaw beneath plush lips and the curve of his nose.

And his eyes. That pretty shade of brown, the dark fan of his eyelashes.

You know them. Though you've never seen them, yourself.

For a moment, you can't breathe. Frozen for an entirely new reason - starting back at the eyes that you've seen so often.

"It's you," You manage. The words are no more than a soft gasp.

He lets you touch him, then. Fingertips tracing his jaw, those eyes slipping shut when your fingers brush the nape of his neck. Somehow knowing how the curls would feel against your fingers, already knowing each detail of his face.

Hidden deep down, revealed bit by bit in your sleep.

Only now, do you see all of him.

And only now, do you lean in. Your head tipping towards him, just as his forehead presses against yours. And it's now that you understand the warmth of his touch - the way it seems to soak into your skin. A lost piece of you, now becoming complete.

You hadn’t been able to find him - so he had found you, instead.

Unable to help the smile, as the dark pit in your stomach blooms into spring.

I wanted it to be you, you think - as your heart finally starts to beat again. I wanted it to be you so badly.

There's a hitch in his breath, with your touch. Fingers that stretch out and then curl, until you're taking them yourself, slipping yours between them.

"Now do you know?" Your husband murmurs, in the voice that you know as well as his eyes.

And you do - the answer coming easily, as you nod, "Because you're mine."

"Yes," He smiles.

"Yours."

i cant stop writing soft!soulmate din 💖 thank you for reading!!

ner kar’ta - my heart

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky - theo nott x reader

A tussle over a vial of Felix Felicis proves to be strangely enlightening

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - argh I had a bit of a rough time ending this fic also why do I kind of want a smutty pt 2 to this ahem ahem insufferable!theo when reader loses a bet with him ahem ahem

tropes/warnings - academic rivals, enemies to lovers (ish), cameo by Mattheo (??), fluff, physical touch, slight angst/yearning

word count - 1.6k

Two weeks. For two weeks you had spent every moment of your free time researching and experimenting to get the right recipe for the Draught of the Living Death down. You had seen the way Theodore Nott had perked up at the mention of the curious potion when Slughorn first mentioned the competition. You felt something stir inside you over the gleam in his eye, and that was when you decided that you absolutely had to win it. After all, who couldn't use a little extra luck every now and then? 

And win it you did. Strangely enough, Theo didn't seem to mind as much as he should have. After a superfluous promise to pass you the vial of Felix Felicis the following lesson, Slughorn dismissed the class. But you weren't satisfied, not when you'd realised a glimmer of an inkling of what Theo might be planning. He took off the moment Slughorn finished speaking, and you scrambled to swipe your things into your bag to catch up with him. As expected, you turned the corner and found the Potions storage room's door ajar.

"You know, I expected better of you, Nott."

Theo stilled, his back facing you, before surreptitiously pulling his hand out of his pocket. "You expected that I would be above stealing?"

"Of course not. But I thought you'd have enough dignity not to stoop this low." You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. "Didn't take you to be so sore a loser."

Surprisingly, your appeal to his pride was ineffective. He turned around and stared at you from under his beautiful overly long eyelashes, his lips twisting into a malicious smile.

"Loser? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the term, Tesoro. You see, one, and only one, of us has today's highly coveted prize." His oily smirk widened. "So you'll forgive me if I don't quite feel like I've lost."

Your face flamed with indignation. "That Felix Felicis is mine and you know it."

Theo took on an expression of faux innocence, splaying his deceitfully empty hands. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about."

You finally snapped. It was one thing to have his aggravating dreamy mug haunting your every waking and sleeping moment, and another to have him outright refuse to acknowledge that you had bested him. You hadn't slaved away the past two weeks perfecting your Draught of the Living Death just for him to nick it from the storeroom. No, you had won, fair and square, and it was time someone smacked that into that swollen head of his. 

You lunged at him, shoving a hand into his pocket, taking Theo by surprise. A second later, his hand closed around your wrist For pockets that did not appear excessively large, it was surprisingly difficult to rifle through its contents, especially with Theo's squirming. 

"You always do this," you bit out. "Since first year you've never been able to stand me getting ahead of you."

"Bold of you to assume you've ever gotten ahead of me, mia cara," Theo grunted through gritted teeth, wincing as you doubled your violent efforts.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, give it up already! I won, you lost. Now give me the vial."

"Finder's keepers."

So engrossed were you in your spirited if awkward wrestling that neither of you noticed someone had stopped by the storeroom.

"Uh," Mattheo started, half-conflicted about whether or not he ought to avert his gaze. "I can come back later."

"NO!" The two of you shouted, Theo trying to wrench your arm away, cursing furiously under his breath in Italian while you stubbornly scrabbled for the vial, hooking him in close by his belt loops. Eventually, after a sharp elbow jab to his rib, Theo's grip slackened enough for you to pull the vial out and shove it into your satchel. 

"Knock yourself out," you said breathlessly to a stunned Mattheo, with your uniform slightly askew and a tinge of pink colouring your face. You left briskly before Theo could recover and wandered to the staircase towards your next class, fixing your hair, still trembling from the adrenaline.

You hurried into the Great Hall for lunch once Charms ended, sliding into a seat next to two of your friends already eating.

"Hey, what did I miss?"

Ivy and Katie exchanged a cryptic look. "What didn't you miss?" responded Ivy innocently, tucking into her slice of Shepherd's pot pie nonchalantly. You frowned at Katie, who seemed to be pointedly avoiding your gaze.

"I don't get it. What happened?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone's talking about it."

"Talking about what?"

"You and Theo getting lucky in the Potions storage room."

You choked on your food, earning a few overly aggressive thumps on your back. "I am going to kill Mattheo."

You found him easily enough, pouring over some dull Ancient Runes assignment in the library. He didn't look up as you entered, fuming, but that was quickly remedied by a sharp smack to the back of his head.

"What else was I supposed to think, L/N? You had his hand down his pants, for Salazar's sake."

"In his pants, you idiot," you hissed. "In, as in his pockets. Didn't the scuffling and the fighting give it away?"

"I don't know," Mattheo said doubtfully, "it's a bit hazy how much actual fighting was going on. If I didn't know any better, and I don't, I'd say I was interrupting a little...something."

You glared at him. "He was trying to stop me from invading his pockets. There was nothing but fighting."

"Right," Mattheo said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because if there were one person stronger than a goddamn Quidditch player, it would be you. Because that's obviously more plausible than the idea that he might just like you feeling him up."

You faltered, and Mattheo took the chance to scoop up his books and leave. "I wasn't feeling him up," you muttered half-heartedly, but he was long gone. And it was true. At no point were your actions motivated by anything other than a righteous desire to reclaim what was yours. But you'd be lying if you said that your mind hadn't wandered, if only for a split second, to what it would be like to be in that exact position under very different circumstances. But it was only inevitable, with the pressing against the hard muscle underneath the coarse fabric and the illicit feeling of running your hands along the most intimate part of his trousers. You groaned, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to erase the memory.

You left the library soon after Mattheo, turning your thoughts around and around in your head.

"You let me have the Felix Felicis."

It wasn't a question as much as a statement of fact. Other than a glance towards you, Theo showed no sign of acknowledging you. He kept that irritatingly cool expression, gazing out at the setting sun and the idyllic sight of the Hogwarts grounds bathed in a soft, liquid golden glow. You joined him at the observation point, your gazes parallel to each other's.

"I don't understand. Why steal it in the first place, then?"

"Why do you even want it?"

You cast your mind around fruitlessly. "It's...it's luck in a bottle. Who wouldn't want it?"

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Theo tilted his head, considering her with his unfairly piercing gaze. "You like getting ahead of me. You like that you have something I want." 

You tried to ignore the way your hair was sticking to the back of what you were sure was your very flushed neck. "So you agree? " you asked, in a voice that sounded braver than you felt. "I get ahead of you?"

A small, almost genuine-looking smile flitted across his face. "On occasion." He turned to face you fully now, his smile turning cocky. 

"Is that where you get off? Being the object of my undivided attention?"

"You wish." You stuck your chin out defiantly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. "Is that where you get off? All those ironic Italian pet names?"

Theo hesitated, blinking, like that was the last thing he expected you to bring up. "Right," he muttered, "ironic."

"So I think it's only fair," you continued, oblivious to the flicker in his expression, "that we call it even. At least for today."

Theo shrugged. "If you say so, mi - L/N."

You nodded, a little taken aback by how easy that was. Now what were you supposed to do? Leave, probably. But for some reason, your feet stayed rooted to the ground. Something compels you to stand there and trace the outline of his face as the setting sun throws harsh yet delicious shadows over the contours of his face.

"Is there something else you wanted?" Theo probes gently, as if he's almost as curious as you.

So much, you want to say, and the crushing weight of the sudden realisation almost knocks the air out of your lungs. All you could think about was how much you never wanted to stop looking and looking and looking at his beautiful face. Where was all this want coming from, and what on Earth were you supposed to do with it?

"No," you say in a small voice. "Nothing at all."

Part 2

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x revenge era!Reader - Social Media AU

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift, and 2,934,568 others

yourusername i never trust a narcissist but they love me

View all 5,721 comments

taylorswift karma is a god ❤️

gridgossip so we all think the ferrari is a diss at max, right?

trulytifosi and i am 100% here for it

kendalljenner welcome back! it was boring without you on here

theshaderoom we’re ready for whatever drama comes next 👀

voguemagazine

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 485,893 others

voguemagazine Y/N Y/L/N is ready to start over.

After an emotionally turbulent few months, the model and actress is slowly beginning to find her center. For Vogue's April issue, Y/L/N opens up about the journey to putting herself first, the lessons she learned through heartbreak, what she yearns for in a relationship, and why she’s taking it day by day.

Vogue, April 2023

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y/nfanclub this is about to be one of the best comebacks in history

y/nlover she could stick her stiletto through my throat and i’d thank her

y/nfanclub that’s a little extreme but i love your enthusiasm

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 2,368,594 others

yourusername i don't regret it one bit 'cause he had it coming

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taylorswift don’t get sad, get even 😉

yourusername i learned from the best

f1wagupdates y/n is in her princess diana revenge dress era only instead of a dress it’s a ferrari jacket

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 2,417,865 others

yourusername i get mystified by how this city screams your name (literally)

📍 Circuit de Monaco

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charles_leclerc were you screaming my name as well?

yourusername of course, i’ve had lots of practice

f1wagupdates did they just?

gridgossip uh huh

f1wagupdates and imply that they …

gridgossip slept with each other? sure looks like it 🍿

scuderiaferrari monaco always loves charles but they love him even more after winning his first home race 🍾

f1wagupdates she's an icon, she is a legend, and she is the moment

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,528,974 others

charles_leclerc the true prize came after the podium

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f1wagupdates charles “mr. steal your girl” leclerc

yourusername i was not anyone’s girl for him to steal in the first place. the only thing he stole was my heart

feralferrari first charles gets the girl, next he gets the championship 🤞

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, selenagomez, and 2,478,629 others

yourusername all along there was some invisible string tying you to me

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danielricciardo max just threw his phone at the wall

danielricciardo to be clear, i am a y/n stan first and max’s friend second

honeybadgered valid 💯

f1wagupdates they look so good together

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,506,912 others

charles_leclerc i promise to buy you flowers and hold your hand. give you all my hours when i have the chance. take you to every party because i know how much you love to dance. do all the things he should have done when he was your man

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yourusername the start of the year might not have been smooth sailing but i am so grateful for every obstacle i faced because they led me to you and i can’t imagine waking up next to anyone else every morning

charles_leclerc maybe we should send a certain red bull driver a thank you basket for indirectly getting us together

yourusername you’re evil and i love it

charles_leclerc what can i say? you’re rubbing off on me

y/nfanclub i’ve never seen y/n this happy before so thank you for making her smile again 🥹

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, and 2,894,576 others

yourusername your eyes look like coming home

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charles_leclerc home is no longer just a place, it’s wherever you are

yourusername i am the luckiest girl in the world to have found my soulmate in you

lonelyleclerc bathing with a toaster, sleeping on the highway, throwing myself head first into an active volcano

zendaya look at you literally glowing. i’m so happy for you both 💕

[jackoshadows]

Firstly, why is it that Sansa can only be praised by comparing her to Arya? Secondly, in what world is Arya physically strong and more than Sansa?!

The masculinization of Arya Stark by tradfems in fandom has become so commonplace that I suppose many of them imagine this is how Arya and Sansa are in the books:

In case folks don't know this: ARYA IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN SANSA! She's the younger sibling!

Anyone who has read a Jon POV chapter should know that Arya is a skinny, little girl. Jon specifically makes a small, lightweight, thin sword for Arya to handle.

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. - Jon, AGoT

Arya has been on the run for two years, hunted by Lannister men, a slave put to hard physical work and starved for food.

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. - Arya, ACoK

Often as not, she went to bed hungry rather than risk the stares. - Arya, AGoT

"Lommy's hungry," Hot Pie whined, "and I am too." "We're all hungry," said Arya. - Arya, ACoK

Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Ary, ACoK

I knew we should never have left the woods, she thought. They'd been so hungry, though, and the garden had been too much a temptation. - Arya, ASoS

"An inn?" The thought of hot food made Arya's belly rumble, but she didn't trust this Tom. - Arya, ASoS

Rabbits ran faster than cats, but they couldn't climb trees half so well. She whacked it with her stick and grabbed it by its ears, and Yoren stewed it with some mushrooms and wild onions. Arya was given a whole leg, since it was her rabbit. She shared it with Gendry. - Arya, ASoS

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

We have the contrast of Arya having to trade some carrots and cabbages they picked from an overgrown garden to get some food and the innkeeper complaining about the lack of lemons to the sumptuous 64 dish feast in the Vale with a 12 feet tall lemon cake made especially for Sansa.

Anguy shuffled his feet. "We were thinking we might eat it, Sharna. With lemons. If you had some." "Lemons. And where would we get lemons? Does this look like Dorne to you, you freckled fool? Why don't you hop out back to the lemon trees and pick us a bushel, and some nice olives and pomegranates too." She shook a finger at him. "Now, I suppose I could cook it with Lem's cloak, if you like, but not till it's hung for a few days. You'll eat rabbit, or you won't eat. Roast rabbit on a spit would be quickest, if you've got a hunger. Or might be you'd like it stewed, with ale and onions." Arya could almost taste the rabbit. "We have no coin, but we brought some carrots and cabbages we could trade you." - Arya, ASoS

Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor’s hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more. - Alayne, TWoW

Arya was already a little, skinny girl smaller than Sansa when they left Winterfell. She has been worked to the bone, sleeping rough and gone hungry. Again, by what logic is this Arya supposed to be physically strong and more than Sansa?!

There is this idea that's often pushed where Sansa is some dainty, fragile princess while Arya is this strong executioner henchwoman and it's just so tiresome and toxic.

Arya is also not Brienne! They are two different characters. If you want physically strong warrior types to compare to Sansa, there is already Brienne. Arya is the smaller, younger sister. In canon and logically, it's the taller, bigger, elder sister with access to good, rich food who would be physically stronger.

The Stark looking Starks tend to be slender and quicker compared to the bigger, stronger Tully looking Starks.

He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast. - Bran, AGoT

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

"Can't you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing." Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together: "Needle!" - Jon, AGoT

Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth. - Jon, ADwD

This is one of the reasons for why Jon Snow is so protective of Arya Stark - he certainly doesn't see her as some physically strong warrior type, despite gifting her with a sword. He's scared for her because he knows that despite how clever she is, Ramsay can kill, rape and torture her - she's 'just a little girl'.

Arya deserves to be protected, same as Sansa. She is not there to be anyone's henchwoman, she does not have super strength and she is certainly not physically stronger than Sansa.

[luvyeni]

MAKE YOU MINE ,, 정성찬

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ jung sungchan x fem!reader wc. 3k

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... age gap relationship ( not chan and reader but it is legal but toxic ), sungchans dad is horrible, cheating ( it's justifiable in my eyes ), oral sex , unprotective sex ,

「 authors note 𖹭 」 the first cheating fic where i don't feel dirty 😭

❪ masterlist! ❫

“you are one lucky fucking bastard sungchan i swear.” he came down the stairs to his friends staring out his window into his backyard.

“what are you talking abo…” he trailed off. “is she out there again?” he sighed. “bro she does this often?” shotaro slapped wonbins shoulder. “bro , i told you we should come over often.” sungchan scoffed; even though his eyes copied theirs and they now were all staring out the huge back door window— where you were sitting by the pool that left nothing to the imagination. “this makes me want to kill your dad for some reason.”

sohees words shook him right out of his thoughts. “stop looking.” he said , closing the curtains, making his friends groan. “now why would you do that?” eunseok asked. “cause of my dad comes home and finds you oogling his fucking girlfriend, he's gonna kick you out and give me shit for it.” he said. “and that's the last thing i need.”

“how’d your dad bag a hottie like that?” seunghan asked the question that he wondered everyday. “she's young and hot and your dad is well old and a little funny looking if you ask me.” wonbin said. “money obviously, it's the only thing he has going for him.” he said. “his attitude is shit, he treats her like shit; parades her around like a prize winning puppy and then leaves her here for me to take care of.” he said. “seems like you're living the dream, why are you upset?”

“what do you mean living the dream?” he questioned his friend. “you mean to tell me you never made a move on her?” shotaro asked surprised. “no.” his friends were shocked. “you, jung sungchan never tried to fuck her?” he was confused. “and risk her telling my dad? he'd have my fucking neck.” he said. “look at that.” eunseok was peeking through the curtains, you were floating around on the floaty, reading a book. “fuck, it would be a risk i’m willing to take.”

you finished your book for the day, floating back to the side of the pool, climbing out. you gathered everything you had out there, wrapping your body in your robe, making your way to the house.

“oh hi yn.” anton was the first to notice you. “hi.” you smiled, sungchan watching the guys look at you; with the look in their eyes, the same look they gave girls in the club or at school, and it pissed him off. “already all of you time to go.” he pushed them out. “you have your owns and families to terrorize, leave now.” they all groaned, you laughed watch as the boy pushed them right out the front door. “bye yn!”

the door closed, and you began to make your way up the steps. “you need to stop dressing like that when the boys are over, i told you this already.” he said. “but i covered this time.” you said, he looked at your pathetic excuse of a cover up, he could still see your pink bathing suit that did a piss poor job at covering your tits. “look when they look at you they don't see the girl dating my dad.” he said. “they see the girl their age lounging around half naked by the pool , and that makes their brains go haywire.” he said. “oh right.”

“im sorry.” you frowned, he felt bad, you were constantly being scolded by his dad, he didn't want to be the one either. “look, it's fine.” he sighed. “just put on a bathing suit that covers your boobs at least next time , go out some clothes on and i’ll order some dinner.” you nodded , walking up the steps, he let out a little smile as he watched you bounce up the steps.

“do you know when your dad will be back?” you picked at the food he put on your food. ‘probably screwing the next young girl’ he thought. “he said he would be on a work trip for a little longer.” he said, you sighed. “you think he's cheating on me?”

did you really care for his dad? “i don't know.” he said. “I know you probably think i'm with him for the money, but i really do like him.” you said. “well i did.” his ears perked up. “did?” he said. “he's so mean now, yelling at me, pushing me around only using me when he needs to save face.” you frowned, tears streaming down your face. “and then shoving his card in my face to shut me up, i feel like a live in prostitute.”

“why won't you leave them?” he asked, reaching over to wipe your face, your eyes widened at the sudden affection. “because i think maybe one day he'll change.” you said. “but i don't think it will, will it?” he didn't know what to say. “im sorry yn.” you shook your head. “no it's not your fault.” you stood up from the table. “he's the evil, not you.” you smiled sadly. “maybe it would've been better if i just dated you instead.”

that stayed in his head all night as he made his way to his room; leaving the plates for the cleaners to clean. “yn?” he knocked on the bedroom door you shared with his dad, but he didn't get an answer, he slowly opened the door, your sleeping body laid peacefully. he was about to close the door when you turned on your side , facing him, still sleeping; but the covers had fallen off of you, revealing your body; you were wearing nothing but thin tank top and some panties; he knew it was weird, but you did look so pretty.

you let out a huff of air, he quickly shut the door, sighing, making his way back to his room, closing the door. “shit.” he sat on his bed; hands in his head, his head spinning with his newest revelation, and his newest visual of you— his cock stirring in his shorts, he took his shirt off the heat radiating from his body being too much.

he laid in bed , his head against the headboard as his hands traveled down his chest , down to his shorts, he groaned as he began to palm himself. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling himself from his shorts , his cock bobbing against his stomach.

he held his hard cock in his hand, squeezing the base of his length, biting his lip as he stroked his cock up and down, his tip leaking with precum he used to wet his cock. “oh fuck.” he moaned; his thoughts going straight to you in your bathing suit, you looked so hot; he hated he had to scold you for wearing it.

his hips snapping up into his hand; squeezing his balls, as he worked himself towards his orgasm. he couldn't help it, all he could do was think about you, your lips, your body, your smile; god your smile turned him on so much, he wondered how your mouth would feel stuff full of his cock. “oh fuck yn.” he moaned out your name, his length twitching in his hand. “fuck im gonna cum.” he threw his head back as the cum shot out from his cock , hitting his chest , covering his hand.

he let his flaccid cock sit on his stomach as he came down from his high, the post nut clarity hitting; this was gonna be last time you ever jerked off to the fleeting thoughts of you; he was going turn the thoughts about fucking you into a reality; he was gonna make sure you never cried about his dumbass dad… he was gonna take you away from him.

you woke up the next morning; head hurting from crying, getting dressed for the day, before making your way downstairs, where people were rushing back and forth, which only meant one thing, he was back. “where is she?”

you walked into the kitchen. “there she is sir.” his assistant pointed to you. “is this what you do everyday sleeping in?” you sighed. “well you don't let me go to school, what else am i supposed to do?” you never talked back, afraid of what he might do. “and what would a pretty dumb thing like you do in school?”

“god dad you really know how to show your love.” sungchan came into the kitchen; he was shirtless, his abs on display, they were so much better to look at than your boyfriend's alcoholic belly. “good morning.” he smiled at you, which came to a surprise since you often never saw a smile from him unless his friends were over. “m-morning.”

“i told you about dressing appropriately while he was here.” he grabbed your arm , pulling you close to him, gritting through his teeth. “i-i just woke up, he normally doesn't get up this early.” you stuttered , sungchan watching it go down angrily. “you're such an embarrassment.” he shoved you away, taking his card out his wallet and throwing it on the table. “go get a new wardrobe.” he said, his assistant coming in. “where are you going?” you asked. “to make money so the both of you can lay around and spend it.”

“sir we have to go.” he rushed out, his team following behind him; not even muttering a goodbye or even a i love you. “you okay?” sungchan came up from behind, wrapping a comforting arm around you. “ye-yeah i'm fine.” you could feel his warm skin on yours. “what about you, you okay?” he scoffed. “please I've been called a lazy bum by that man since 4th grade.” he flagged it off. “doesn't make it right.” he watched you open the fridge grabbing a water bottle. you were right, that's why he was gonna fix it. “I'm gonna go get dressed.” you said , leaving the card. “what about this?”

“i don't want his money.” you said, he picked up the card. “i say we take it and spend as much money as the bank allows.” he smirked. “you deserve it after the shit he puts you through.” you thought about it, you did deserve it, you were tired of putting up with his shit. “let's go.” he chuckled, shaking his head as you excitedly ran up the stairs.

and spend his money you both did, both of you going into multiple different stores just buying anything your hearts wanted; even going as far as to buy things just because you picked it up; it was fun, sungchan was fun to be around actually, and not the little ingrate his father made him out to be. half way through your trip, you actually began to think again— what would've happened if you did end up dating him and not his dad?

you dropped the bags on the floor of the house , sungchan holding at least twenty on his arms, that didn't even count the ones in his car. “did we over do it?” you bit your lip nervously. “he's gonna be so mad.” he scoffed. “nothing compared to what im about to do with my online purchases.” you laughed. “we can have someone bring these to your room, go ahead and shower whatever and i’ll order dinner, steak?” you squint your eyes in suspicion. “you don't eat steak on a random sunday.” he smiled. “you ever seen how expensive they are?” you shook your head, making your way up the stairs— his mind was made up, he was doing this tonight.

“let's watch a movie.” he said after dinner. “me and you?” you questioned. “yeah, you wanna?” you nodded. “yes.” he smiled. “good, let's go.”

he guided you to the living room; you sat on the big couch, he sat directly next to you, knees touching. “what do you want to watch?” you shrugged. “anything is fine.” you replied. “you got a favorite movie?” you nodded. “i love the princess diaries.” he stared blankly. “we don't have to watch it.” he shook his head. “no I asked, i brought it on myself, let's find the princess diaries.”

sungchan wasn't paying attention to the movie; you were halfway through and he couldn't tell you anything about it; but he could tell you in full detail of your face, every blemish, every scar he could tell you. “you aren't watching this, are you?” you asked , turning to him. “no im so sorry.” he said. “i can see why you like it, but yn i don't think i can watch the second one.” you were too busy laughing to even hear his excuses. “it's okay, we can watch what you want to watch.”

“what if i want to watch you instead?” you lowered your head to conceal your smile. “that's boring no? he shook his head. “with how pretty you are? no.” he could see you liked that. “god you're smiling so hard , he never complimented you like that?” you shook your head. “jesus , he's fucking blind if he doesn't think so.”

before you could say anything, his lips were on yours; his hands on the side of your face, holding you in place, lowing you down on the couch. “wa-wait.” you pulled away breathless. “we can't do this, chan im with your dad.” he scoffed, hovering above you. “and how is that going for you?” he kissed your neck, your hand came up to his hair. “come on yn.” he was slotted in between your legs, giving him access to grind his pelvis into you. “su-sungchan.” you whimpered.

“let me make you feel so much better.” he lifted your shirt over your head , kissing down the valley of your breast. “way better than he ever made you feel.” he kissed your waistband, coming back up to your face to kiss you. “let me touch you.” he squeezed your boob. “fuck you.” you moaned, he smirked. “you like that?” he teased. “you want me to fuck you?” you nodded. “y-yes.”

“good girl.” he sat back, pulling his shirt off, your eyes scanning his abs. “you like?” he questioned. “you were staring at them this morning, right in front of him, like you didn't even care that he was there.” you felt his hand grabbing the waistband of your shorts , pulling them down. “such a pretty body , god my dad is so fucking stupid.” he got in between your legs, holding your legs over his shoulders. “gonna eat this pretty pussy.” he kissed in between your thighs.

“fuck you smell good.” he pulled your panties to the side, your glistening folds, sweet scent; you whimpered about to beg him to do something before he licked a strip up your folds. “ch-chan.” you moaned out hands threading in his hairs, yanking it as he made out with your cunt, drowning himself in you, it was better than anything he'd tasted before.

“fuck!” you yelped as he suck on your sensitive clit. “chan i'm gonna cum.” you felt his tongue going in and out of you, he was moaning against your heat, like he was getting more pleasure out of it than you were. “fuck im cumming.” he pulled away catching his breath, before licking you clean. “ch-chan.”

he pulled away , wiping his mouth with a smirk. “fuck eating this pussy is gonna be my new pass time.” he pulled his pants down. “you want my cock baby?” he stroked himself lining up to your entrance, he was much bigger to what you were used to. “it's not gonna fit.” he hissed, you were so cute, it made him just want to stretch you full of his cock inside you. “fuck baby, we'll make it fit.”

holding your legs still, pushing himself inside your warm cunt. “oh fuck you're so tight.” he hissed, your cunt sucking him in. “old man must've not been fucking you right , this pussy feels like it hasn't been touched in a long time.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy, he had never felt like this before; he was about to cum before he could even fuck you.

“deeper ch-chan.” your nails dug into his arms as he fully seethed himself inside you. “fuck baby you feel that.” he brought your hand to your stomach a small bump forming. “that's me right there, i'm in your tummy right now.” you moaned. “please fuck me, make me forget him.”

that's all he needed before pulling out. “gonna make sure you never want to fuck that old man again.” he slammed back inside you. “shit!” held your hands above your head as he repeatedly slammed inside you, repeating his name over and over, moaning in his ear , you felt like heaven around him. “fuck princess , this pussy is molding to my cock.” he cursed. “fuck chan.”

“this is my pussy now.” he grunted, “you're mines , gonna take care of you.” he let your hands go, they flew to his back, scratching him up. “fuck that bastard.” you moaned out. “gonna cum chan.” he reached in between your bodies, rubbing your clit. “cum for me.”

he felt your legs shaking, cunt tightening around him. “oh fuck love you're squeezing my dick, gonna cum inside you.” his thrust started to falter. “gonna cum baby.” he stilled himself inside you , his cum shooting inside of you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt him empty himself inside you. “good girl.”

…

“your dad must've been fucking pissed.” sungchan shrugged. “what's he gonna do.” he smirked. “take your ass right out the will.” shotaro said. “yeah? and have to tell everyone what happened? yeah no he'd never face embarrassment.”

“sungchan!” he smiled hearing your voice, you'd become much happier since that day, gaining all your confidence back , even started attending college again; all thanks to sungchan. “hey baby.” you ran into his arms, sitting down next to him , waving hello to all his friends. “what are you guys talking about?” sungchan kissing the side of your head.

“how i took you from my dad.”

©LUVYENI