#but that they reach out to those people as a solution

[bookwyrminspiration]

What do you think the point of the Black Swan is? They hinted that it is “world peace” or “defeating the Neverseen”, but we don’t even know what the end goal of the Neverseen is.

Based on my understanding of the series, I would say the point of both the Black Swan and the Neverseen is a fair society. They were both formed in response to injustices they saw in their world--e.g. the pyrokinetic ban, the treatment of talentless, the othering of twins, etc.

Boths end goal is a better society that treats people appropriately--the difference is what each group thinks "appropriate" means and how they think that goal should be achieved. The Black Swan is less aggressive, more wanting to work within the system as much as possible. They're go around it out of necessity, but would prefer to fix things from the inside. The Neverseen want to take over and start fresh, raze things to the ground and build up a new system, their system.

I don't think the Black Swan was ever formed with the intention of fighting the Neverseen, so I think they're unprepared for it. It's become a goal recently because of the Neverseen's actions getting in the way of/targeting the Black Swan, but the organization predates this conflict and was formed on a different premise. Their methods aren't intended for violence and fighting the way they're engaging with now, they were meant for systemic, professional change. More diplomatic and peaceful, but still persistent and unyielding.

At least, that's my interpretation and analysis of the two groups. I may very well be wrong, but I think the point of both organization is system wide change to make a more fair and just society. How they go about that change, however, is different. Does that make sense? Hopefully it does!

[despair-tea]

I think I'm growing up alright. I'm gonna keep at it.

[vampjaeyun]

STRAWBERRY LOLLY

PAIRING shy nerd!sunghoon x confident fem!reader | wc: 1.5k

WARNINGS vague smut, miniskirt agenda (duh), sunghoon is a perv and he got it bad, dom!sunghoon

However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much. God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.

NOTES hi first post kinda nervy

PARK SUNGHOON has the hots for you.

It has only been a few months since he’s known of you. And it’s not enough time to build the courage to approach you.

What can he say?

You look unfathomable. Something so unreachable. Especially for someone like him.

He sits far across the room as the professor rambles on, stealing glances, wondering if you’ll notice him one day. It was hard to keep his mind at bay, to prevent walking up to you. He knew that he would ramble and mess it all up. Or stutter while attempting to acquaint himself with you.

He realized that admiring from afar was the best solution to the issue at hand. And it proved to be a good one.

That is, until it became unbearable. More specifically, sinful. And today is one where it seems God is testing him.

You return to the classroom and Sunghoon automatically straightens his posture– his doodling on the notebook gone astray.

You’re sporting the same mini skirt he loves so much and those legs are perfectly on display for everyone to see. It’s definitely not because they’re so short your panties practically peek out without having to look under.

He doesn’t know how you do it. How you claim attention to any room you walk in. Heads automatically turn in your direction the second you step foot into it. But you play dumb, acting as if the people in the room don’t automatically moan at the sight of you.

And whether it’s the perfect posture or the pearly smile you showcase, you’re far out of reach for the quiet, stereotypical glasses-wearing nerd, whose favorite class is calculus. And it’s most definitely because you’re in this class too.

However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much.

God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.

The glassy ball between your lips that you occasionally run your tongue along has him losing all composure. You’re innocently conversing with your classmate beside you, innocently grazing the tip of the red lollipop against your bottom lip, and innocently putting it back into your mouth in one motion. Your cheeks hollow, and he salivates at you sucking on the sticky candy. He knows he’s far away, yet believes his eyesight couldn’t be any clearer.

His leg starts to mindlessly shake once scenarios run wild, and one point he makes clear to himself is that the flavor is strawberry. It fits you perfectly, he thinks. The strawberry lollipop tints your lips a fitting scarlet shade, the gloss resembling honey as you continue to edge him beyond belief with the repetition of your ministrations.

But as he continues to gawk from across the room, your orbs shoot directly into his.

It’s so sudden that he moves to deter from your glare at all costs and reverts back to random doodling. Sweat dribbles down alongside his temple because your sharp eyes contain purpose behind them, and he prays that the purpose isn’t him.

You’re definitely going to call him out for being a creep if anything.

But a tap on his shoulder forces him to address the siren in heels behind him, and as he turns, Sunghoon can hardly meet your inviting eyes.

And just like taking a breath, your syrupy voice addresses him for the first time. He wonders if you feel an ounce of what he’s feeling at the moment.

Surely not, because you act as if you’ve known him your whole life.

“Hey Hoonie, can I talk to you for a second?” you infer with your hands pressed against the edge of his desk. And it’s proving impossible to look straight into your eyes, even more at your tits pressed together, spilling out of your top.

“Shoot,” he mentally applauses himself for a collective response.

“I need a tutor,” you frown, and all he thinks about is how your face would look when you cum.

“I’m on the verge of failing, and I know you’re about to check off a hundred percent in the class.”

“Yeah o-of course. I have to make sure my schedule’s open first.”

“Great! My place or your place?” you bat your lashes innocently.

Sunghoon swears if you do one more thing, he’ll cum in his pants right then and there. There’s not much more he can take. “Anywhere is fine. I gotta go though. We can discuss the details in class tomorrow.”

You’re giggling at his shyness, quick to follow his scurrying around the desk. “Or we can keep talking since I like talking to you so much.”

You’ve got him staring like a deer in headlights, “You do?”

“Do you?” you inquire while also wondering when he’ll drop the shy act.

An opportunity like this most likely won’t ever happen again. And the countless times Jake has called him a pussy for not shooting his shot only motivates him that much more. “Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?”

“Maybe because I enjoy hearing answers I like,” you raise a brow at his sudden confidence, but your interest is showcased through the closing proximity between the two of you with each word that escapes your throat.

Sunghoon notices the glint of surprise in your eyes when you realize he wasn’t going to cower backwards.

His thoughts, on the other hand, were the complete opposite of his cowardly actions. In fact, he wonders how’d you react if he kissed you until your lips were bruised. Or if you liked it if he wrapped his entire hand full of your hair and tugged ‘til his heart’s content.

But in the end, your answer has him speechless, and you fully grin at that. “Let me know the answer to mine when you get the chance.”

You’re turning around to leave the shaky boy alone, but something catches your wrist.

“Tomorrow. Eight p.m., my place,” he’s breathing pattern quickens and he thickly gulps as he awaits your response.

And you giggle at his eagerness. “Can’t wait.”

And that’s how you ended up at his place the following night. Sunghoon had successfully helped complete a total of five questions before your hand slithered up his thigh and the subject of derivatives flew out the window.

To be honest, he doesn’t care he gave in so fast.

He’s so easy. So easy for you.

And you knew that. You took advantage of how he averted your gaze at all costs, yet you could still feel the heat of his stare when you looked away. Usually preferring men who are more dominant and masculine in and out of the bedroom, you took this as a challenge to stray out of your comfort zone.

You couldn’t lie though, Sunghoon’s awkward mannerisms are awfully cute. A bonus was he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Your friends often scolded you for wanting to pursue him, but you ignored their incessant warnings.

And when you made due of your promise, you were surprised at how he was able to get a few words out.

What was even more surprising was the night that followed.

“Fuck—mnph!” your moans are muffled into the pillow as Sunghoon plows into your sopping cunt from behind. His palm envelops the entirety of your nape, pushing your head harder with each thrust. Your entire spine buzzes with pleasure, and his fingers digging into your neck only heighten the feeling.

“This is for underestimating me,” he seethes. You wish you were facing him to see his darkened persona.

“I w-w,” you barely get out.

“You what?” his hoarse voice mixes with a groan at your velvety walls sucking him like a vice.

“I-I wish I c-could take a pict-ture,” Sunghoon’s fingers press deeper with each word that escapes your throat, and you giggle. You’d never imagine the loser in class could get you pussy drunk.

“Go ahead,” he seethes before pulling out and flipping you over to your back.

“Wha-” you can’t even finish the word before he’s roughly thrusting into your pussy in one motion and continuing with the same pace.

“Hoon! Fuck,” you’re under his spell while the bed frame rhythmically knocks against the wall.

“I should take a picture of you like this,” he turns your slack jaw so you are able to look at him.

He chuckles once his eyes make contact with your hooded ones. “With drool and tears decorating your face while I use you as a cock-sleeve.”

Your fists ball as the drag of his cock overwhelms you. “So full,” you moan, and he rewards your comment with another harsh snap of his hips.

“Remember,” Sunghoon sets your calves against his shoulder and leans down against your ear. It feels unworldly, his cock pushing deeper and rougher into your cervix.

“Remember who makes you feel this way,” he whispers.

[incorrectbatfam]

Ways to be a nuisance in our year of 2025

(from personal experience)

Get a small box. Write "take as you need" on the side. Fill it with period products. Put them in public bathrooms, including men's rooms.

Find a pothole. Paint a dick on it. Either your town will fix it or the public will enjoy your masterpiece.

Apps like No Thanks, Boycat, and Boycott X (my personal fave) let you scan items for boycotting shit. Money talks.

Red Cards contains all the rights that everyone, citizen or not, is entitled to in this country. They come in a bunch of different languages. Print them, give them out, leave them in places that need it, etc.

Don't be a snitch. Know someone undocumented? Someone traveling for reproductive or gender-affirming care? No the fuck you do not.

If someone asks your help doing #5, be their cover. If you live where they're fleeing from: no you don't know where they went, no they didn't tell you anything. If you live somewhere people are going to: that is now your cousin, friend from high school, camping buddy, etc.

Here is a fake person generator including phone, email, and address. Here is a free VPN for desktop and mobile. Spam the shit out of those ICE tiplines, trans bathroom reporting forms, etc. Here is a thing that lets you flood an email. Make their system useless.

If you're white, you have way more freedom when it comes to interacting with cops. Distract and divert.

See Nazi shit? Tear it up, kick it down, paint it over. See a Nazi? Rip into them. If you can't, record them, post it, send it to folks connected to them. Do not let them know peace.

If you protest: nondescript outfit with a change of clothes, cover scars and tattoos, leave behind devices that can track you, and either don't drive or park far away. Masks, goggles, and helmets highly suggested. Heavy duty gloves or tennis rackets for lobbing gas cans back. Fresh water or saline solution for tear gas and pepper spray. Have an exit route but also be prepared to hunker down or get arrested.

Nonprofit orgs are always looking for donations and volunteers, especially smaller local ones. There's a role for everyone, including admin stuff for folks who can't leave home. Reach out to them and ask what help they need. The people who aren't seen are just as important as the ones who are.

If you're taking someone to get an abortion, especially a place like Planned Parenthood that might have picketers, put something under your shirt and pretend you are the one who's pregnant to divert attention. Guys can do this too. Be their secret mpreg fantasy.

Cis folks: if your trans friend asks you to accompany them to a bathroom or locker room, do it. And if someone comes poking their nose in your business, pretend you're the one who's trans—again, taking the attention away from your friend.

It takes just a dozen emails or a few people showing up at local town hall or school board meetings to disrupt everything and steer the discussion.

If you have a job in the government or something adjacent, gum up the works. Let calls go to voicemail and don't return them for hours. Leave emails unanswered for a day or few. Don't work through lunch breaks even if it's busy. Take your PTO in its entirety, and leave something only you can do incomplete. Rearrange your priorities ("Sorry Janet, I can't look into who's hiring illegal immigrants, I gotta fix this printer first"). Create excuses to delay things—it needs to be double checked, it didn't pass inspection, it didn't contain some insignificant detail.

Gather some food or prep some meals for your local homeless folks. Make a portion for yourself too. That way if someone asks, you're simply sharing a meal with an old friend who happens to be down on their luck.

Get some Pride stickers/flags/posters and sprayable Gorilla Glue. Slap them on everything, including cars and businesses owned by conservatives. Make our presence constantly known.

[prettycopperpennies]

How They React When They Find Out Their One Night Stand Had A Child

Headcannon/Oneshot hybrid 😵😅

Squid Games x F!Reader

Including: The Frontman/Player 001/Hwang In-ho | Player 230/Thanos/ Choi Su-bong | Player 388/Kang Dae-ho | Player 333/Lee Myung-gi | The Recruiter

Description: Years later they bump into you, a past one night stand. But they were not expecting to see a toddler who looks suspiciously like them by your side. Takes place after the squid games.

The Frontman/Player 001/Hwang In-ho

~ He would still recognize you after your one night stand a handful of years ago. He would approach you with a charming smile, but his entire expression would change when he saw a little toddler pop up at your side. He would deftly notice the similarities between him and this little child almost immediately. Especially in the dark hair and eyes.

~ Your awkwardness would also be noted by him, although he wouldn’t necessarily call it out. Instead, he’d be focused on bringing the unusual situation to light.

~ “Well… Is there anything you’d like to tell me, darling?”

~ Within minutes he would feel a responsibility to his child and the mother of that child, despite just learning of said child’s existence. He wouldn’t need to hear your explanations as to why you didn’t reach out to him. Instead, he would be focused on you and your child’s life.

~ What is your living situation? How are you supporting the both of you? Who watches your child when you go to work?

~ And he’d quickly offer solutions to the “obvious problems”. You clearly needed a bigger place to live. And you couldn’t be working full time. He could easily be supporting the two of you financially.

~ You would insist you didn’t need any help. The only thing you would be beholden to accept is the ask to allow him back into his own child’s life.

~ The first time he picks up his child for a day is also the first time he would see your cramped apartment. You could see the slight disapproval on his face, despite his efforts to veil his feelings. It wouldn’t surprise you though. Even from just that one shared night years ago you could tell he was a man of a particular taste.

~ He had curbed talking about taking care of you both, but every time you tried to pay your rent your landlord would insist it was already paid. And he was always offering to watch your child as you went to work.

~ But everytime you came back home, exhausted from a day of working, he would start up again. “Why not take me up on my offer? Wouldn’t you like to spend your days going shopping, sleeping in, and playing with our child? Hm? Doesn’t that sound so much better?”

~ If you ever caved and started letting him fund your simple lifestyle, your willingness to let him in more and more would only serve to bolster his confidence. Soon you would be having people show up who insist they were hired to clean your apartment, private chiefs who have been prepaid to cook your meals for the next month, and even a nanny. Your child would become so spoiled as he bought them intricate, expensive toys and designer clothes they would grow out of within a week.

~ You could try to insist to In-ho you didn’t need any of those things, but he would insist that you do.

~ “Darling, if you don’t have a nanny then who will watch our child while we’re away on our date?”

~ He would eventually start to ask you out nearly every weekend, and soon his gifts started to skew more romantic. Ever since he saw the two of you all those months ago he was working towards this exact outcome; to have the both of you in his life.

Player 230/Thanos/ Choi Su-bong

~ You wouldn’t believe your toddler was fascinated with the very rapper you had hooked up with that resulted in them even existing. And that’s ignoring the fact you definitely had not allowed your toddler to listen to his music. You seriously had no idea who told them about him, but one day after daycare they suddenly had a new obsession.

~ So one day when you were walking down the street it was no surprise when your child spotted the celebrity they were slipping out of your grasp and running in their obsession’s direction. You chased after them, but of course they had an easy time slipping through the many people on the crowded street while you were struggling to make it through the throngs.

~ Thanos was busy signing autographs and taking selfies for the mass of fans surrounding him, but he looked up in interest as the group broke into a chorus of ‘aw’s and ‘so cute’s. Soon he spotted the source of the crowd’s affection. There was a toddler looking up at him with starstruck eyes. He leaned down, waving to them and jokingly asking if they were a fan. 

~ Someone in the crowd joked how similar the two looked, and a few others agreed. He asked the crowd whose child this was, but when no one responded he got a little worried.

~ “Hey kid, where’s your mom?”

~ It was as if you were summoned by the rapper, suddenly popping up in the midst of the crowd to grab your kid. You were out of breath as you picked them up and told them not to run off again. Thanos decided to speak up on his little fan’s behalf, saying “Don’t worry. I kept an eye on them.”

~ As soon as the two of you locked eyes, he finally realized who you were. And who the kid was too. Suddenly the crowd seemed a little claustrophobic for him. And, apparently, for you. You suddenly were ducking through the throngs, trying to leave the awkward situation as quickly as possible. But Thanos followed you easily, just keeping an ear out for the yells of his kid.

~ He managed to shake his fans and find you almost a block over. You were tiredly asking your kid to breathe as they threw a tantrum. He felt a wave of guilt, wondering how exhausted you must be from raising this kid on your own.

~ “Listen to your mom,” he told your kid as he approached the two of you, “You're about to run out of oxygen, kid.”

~ Your kids' eyes lit up as soon as they realized their hero was nearby. But as excited as your kid was, you were equally as nervous by the appearance of Su-bong (or “Thanos” as your kid knew him as). You eyed the tall figure anxiously, waiting to hear what he had to say to you. Somehow you were still unprepared for the very obvious question of why you didn't tell him.

~ You quickly listed off a litany of answers that would often run through your head as you tried to justify your decision. You didn’t really know each other, but even then he didn’t come off as the type of person who wanted kids. He was a celebrity, and you didn't want your kid growing up in the limelight. You didn’t want him to think you were trying to trap him into raising a kid.

~ As soon as you ran out of excuses, Su-bong spoke up and simply asked when would be a good time for him to visit his child. You were a bit taken back. You honestly had always doubted he would want anything to do with his kid, but here he was asking you when he can see them. You told him that weekend should be fine. The two of you exchanged numbers, you gave him your address, and he gave a promise to drop by.

~ Every weekend he would drop by to pick up your kid, and then drop them off by the end of the day. You would listen as they told you all the fun things they did that day. Su-bong obviously immediately spoiled them rotten.

~ One day you were surprised to have Su-bong invite you along. You hesitated at first, but as your child begged you to come you found yourself agreeing to the proposition. Soon, when Su-bong was coming by he was taking you both on some sort of adventure for the day. 

~ Eventually, there was at least one evening a week where Su-bong would come by to take you out to dinner. And he wouldn’t just come by to pick your kid up. Soon you let him stick around your house instead, and the visits expanded well past the weekends. Before either of you realized it, you had become a little family of three.

Player 388/Kang Dae-ho

~ Dae-ho wouldn’t quite believe what he was seeing when there was a little toddler sitting on your hip. He had originally come up to you to say hi, of course remembering you despite it being one fleeting night years ago, but when you turned around and the child came into view he was floored.

~ For a moment he had thought you had simply gotten married and started a family of your own, but as he looked at the child he started to see how much it looked like him. He would be standing in open mouthed shock that you would have to be the one to break the silence, asking him to say something.

~ He would gather his composure after that, introducing himself with a smile and a wave to the child. Your heart would twist a little with guilt as you noticed how easily he could get them to laugh.

~ That laughter is what got you to ask if he wanted to join the two of you for ice cream. He would, of course, immediately accept. It seems the two of them were utterly fascinated by each other, which both broke and mended your heart as you watched the pair.

~ He would scoop on as many gummy bears and m&ms that your kid asked for till the toppings were piled so high they seemed to outweigh the ice cream. You went to pay for the three ice creams, but Dae-ho would quickly pull out his own wallet and cover the costs. You would insist he didn’t have to do that, but he would assure you it wasn’t a problem.

~ Dae-ho had a million questions for you, namely why you hadn’t come to him when you found out you were pregnant, but he knew he could ask those questions eventually. He was currently trying to cram years of missed out interactions into one desert filled outing.

~ You were less than surprised as the sugar high hit them both seemingly at the same time. Soon your child was dragging you both towards the little arcade in the back of the cafe. Dae-ho spent nearly ten dollars in quarters as he attempted time and again to get your child’s choice of stuffed animal out of the claw machine. You momentarily allowed yourself to get swooped up in the fun, trying and failing to beat Dae-ho on one of those strength testers.

~ You both had a shock of awkward reality when your child asked if all three of you could use the photo booth. Of course, there was one thing that would inevitably get you both into the booth: neither of you could say no to your kid.

~ As soon as Dae-ho saw the photos of the three of you crammed into one booth his heart felt as if someone was reaching into his chest and squeezing tight. His child sitting between the two of you with an ice cream stained face and laughing, or the photo of him pulling a face while you and your child laughed, or the smile of his child that looked nearly identical to his own: every tiny photo confirmed one thing for him.

~ He wanted nothing more than to have you both be in his life from this moment onward.

~ You spent longer in the ice cream cafe than you had meant to, and soon the sun was beginning to set and your kid needed to go home to sleep. Dae-ho carried them out to your car, and once again you felt a pang as you noticed how natural all this was for him.

~ When you suggested the three of you hang out again this weekend, he immediately agreed. You thought that was the end of the conversation, but after Dae-ho settled the toddler into their booster he was turning back to you.

~ “So… why didn’t you tell me?”

~ You explained how you didn’t want to pressure him into anything, how you were nervous how he’d react, and after a few years you decided it had been too long. He listened to your explanations, and apologies, with much appreciated patience. You knew it wasn’t a perfect reason, but it was enough for him for now.

~ After that, he was dropping by nearly four or five times a week, and soon enough he was basically a mainstay at your place. The three of you seemed to fall into a new domestic situation with such ease that when Dae-ho asked you out it wasn’t hard to say yes. You seemed to fit perfectly into each other's lives.

Player 333/Lee Myung-gi

~ Myung-gi had spotted you, and your toddler, at the same bookstore he was currently inhabiting. It would take him a moment to realize where he recognized you from, but as soon as he realized it was from a one night stand he re-evaluated the child holding your hand.

~ After some quick math in his head he would realize he could very easily be the father of this child. But why wouldn’t you tell him? At least, he thought, you would contact him for child support. So obviously, it couldn’t be his kid, right?

~ But there was no denying it. The kid was a spitting image of him. As the reality dawned on him, he found his feet unable to move. It was like he was glued to the carpet as shock set in. He was so in his own head he didn’t notice the toddler approaching him.

~ He looked down when he felt a small hand tug on the edge of his shirt. Myung-gi’s mouth went dry as he looked face to face with his own kid. They were looking back with tear soaked cheeks, asking for help. They had somehow lost track of their mom and needed someone to help find her.

~ “Oh… Uh, sure kid.”

~ Myung-gi paused for a moment as the kid reached a pudgy hand up, but he eventually took it in his own. He glanced in the direction he had last seen you, but you were gone. He had the kid walk him back to where they could remember you were last, but of course you weren’t there either.

~ He stifled a sigh as his kid started to cry again, sniffling every few seconds. “It’s alright, we’ll find your mom.” But soon they started to bawl, unable to quell the worry the longer it took. Myung-gi reached down, picking them up with ease. He patted their back awkwardly, not sure at all how to handle this situation, but somehow it worked.

~ He felt some sort of unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness as the child calmed in his arms. He decided to head to the cashier and see if they could make an announcement over the intercom. As he made his way over he would every so often assure the toddler in his arms everything would turn out just fine.

~ As he headed to the front he spotted you already talking with a manager. He could see you were clearly very worried. As soon as he pointed you out your child would immediately start calling for you. The relief flooding your face as you spotted your kid was evident to everyone around you. You rushed over and Myung-gi handed his child over with an unexpected pang of pain. He watched as you wiped away your child’s tears before holding them in a tight hug.

~ “I cannot thank you enough. Thank you so-”

~ As you turned to thank the helpful stranger you would come face to face with the last person you were expecting to see at that moment. Myung-gi cocked an eyebrow at your shocked expression, a move that informed you he knew exactly who’s child that was.

~ “I think we need to talk.”

The Recruiter

~ He spotted you, holding the hands of a child, while he was in the middle of “work”. He normally would go on with his job, but he didn’t want to risk you noticing as he slapped a stranger straight across the face. Even though it was a one night stand you had managed to make quite the impact on him.  Instead, he hurriedly ended the unfinished transaction as the child started to notice the game being played.

~ Your child would be tugging at your hand, and once you glanced in the direction they pointed to you saw the person you least expected to. He waved in your direction, but instead of returning the gesture you picked up your child and hurried up the subway steps.

~ He noticed your odd reaction to seeing him. It made him reevaluate the situation. As he looked closer at the two of you, he started to notice the similarities between him and the child who was currently looking at him over your shoulder as you rushed up the stairs.

~ He would quickly follow you, not letting you get far before he stepped in front of you. He glanced between you and the child, openly putting two and two together. You would feel a tinge of guilt as he finally kept his eyes on you. He waited silently for you to speak up.

~ His tactic would inevitably work, and soon you’d be trying to explain away why you hadn’t gone to find him and tell him. He would notice you trying to keep everything generalized, and would once again glance in the direction of the child in your arms. With an annoyed sigh he would tell you that the two of you could talk about this later. Then he would go on his way and let the two of you go on yours.

~ But later you would receive a text from your old one night stand. “Are you free to talk yet?”. You would stare at the text, debating whether or not to answer. But eventually the guilt would take over and you would respond with a yes.

~ Moments later you would be getting a phone call. You were prepared to explain yourself once more, but instead he wanted to discuss when he could start to see his kid. You were a little surprised. You really weren’t sure if he would be interested or not.

~ Within a few days he was dropping by as your “friend” who was going to hang out for a bit and get to know your child. You tried to give them some space, but you couldn’t stop peaking your head in to see how it was going. You couldn't believe just how similar they looked.

~ Within moments he was feeling a swelling need to protect this little bundle of joy in front of him. As they bobbed around the room, showing him every book and toy in their possession he could feel himself getting more and more attached. Those few hours flew by, and he was already asking you when he could come by again.

~ After a few weeks you got the usual text, expecting it to be asking when he could come see his child. But instead it was asking when you would be free. Between coming by to pick you up for a date or dropping in to visit your kid, he was around quite a bit. Once he started spending nights there he never really left, and without noticing it the three of you became a family.

[sargeant-bxrnes]

you’re how i pray.

summary: reluctantly, you found yourself reaching out to the church for guidance, to better your “wrongs.” only to meet father charlie and realize there was a whole world of sins you’ve yet to indulge in. [REQUESTED.]

pairings: charlie mayhew x fem!reader

warnings: conversations about religion and moral, blasphemy (?), charlie is a manipulative freak!. SMUT: this is DIRTYYYY, fingering (fem), oral (fem), unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk.

WC: 3.6K (sorry, i got into it)

my masterlist!                     requests are OPEN!

Your steps echoed against the cold stone floors of the church. The towering figure of your aunt walked ahead, moving with self-righteous purpose. You rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle the irritation that boiled beneath your skin.

Of course, therapy had been a good start. You had actually been making progress, learning to manage your anger, to quiet the voice inside you that urged you to rebel against every rule, every boundary. But your family… they believed therapy wasn’t enough. They had another solution.

Father Charlie. You had heard of him. A young priest, charismatic and well-liked by the community.

Your aunt wasted no time, walking straight up to the office where Father Charlie stood. His presence was larger than life, draped in his priestly robes, and yet his eyes—those piercing brown eyes—held a spark that didn’t quite match the image of a humble servant of God.

“Father Charlie, thank you for meeting with us,” your aunt began, already launching into a tirade about you. Words like rebellious, problematic, and sinful spilled out as though they had been rehearsed. You stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the rows of candles flickering on the altar.

Father Charlie nodded sympathetically but his gaze never left you. He didn’t interrupt your aunt’s sermon, though, and once the woman was satisfied that she had delivered enough holy condemnation, she patted you on the shoulder.

“Father Charlie will talk to you, sweetie. He’ll help you.”

With that, your aunt left, leaving behind a cloud of forced piety. The silence settled in as Father Charlie waited until the doors shut behind her.

“Guessing by your expression, I’m sure this wasn’t your first option, coming to me.” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

You shrugged, leaning back against one of the wooden furnitures of his office. “Yeah. My family has unfortunately convinced themselves that I’m a lost cause, and that only God can save me. Or so.”

Father Charlie smiled, and something about it made you feel more cautious than comforted. “Why do you think people see you that way?”

The question took you by surprise. Not the usual condescending lecture, not yet, anyway. “Because I don’t see the point in all these rules they’re obsessed with. I do whatever I want, and that annoys people. We’re born into this world, and instead of living the lives we want, we’re told what to do from the moment we can speak. Doesn’t that sound a little… cruel to you?”

“Rules are there to keep the community together. Without them, society would fall apart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe. But what’s the point if those rules only help some people? The rich keep getting richer, while the rest of us… we’re always at the bottom. And that’s okay as long as we obey, right?”

“So, you think life is about doing whatever you want? No restrictions at all?”

“Not exactly,” you said. “I just think people should be free to make their own choices. To live without constant guilt and fear hanging over them. This whole idea that we’re supposed to follow blindly or be damned… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

The priest studied you for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze. “Do you believe in God?”

Your lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something out there, something bigger than us. But the people in this community? The hypocrisy. The way they use their faith to control others. It’s toxic.”

Father Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re not the first to feel that way. But you’re not as alone as you think, either.”

“What do you mean?”

His smile was back, but this time, it held something else. Something darker. “Let’s just say… not everyone in this church follows the rules as strictly as you might think.”

A shiver crept down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else. His words, his tone—they didn’t match the image of the holy man you had been expecting. You sat down on the couch, to keep some distance.

“Let’s talk more,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m curious about your thoughts on freedom. On life… on sin.”

Your pulse quickened as he took a seat next to you, far too close for comfort, but you didn’t move. There was something magnetic about him. Dangerous, but magnetic.

“You know,” Charlie began, his fingers lightly tracing the soft edge of the couch beneath both, “a lot of people in your position feel trapped by expectations. You said it yourself: you don’t like the way rules seem to be designed to keep some people down.”

You nodded slowly, unsure where this was leading, but already feeling a shift in the atmosphere.

He tilted his head, his gaze holding yours, and there was a glimmer of amusement—something almost wicked—in his eyes. “You’re not wrong to want freedom. To want more. But what you have to understand is that most people… they’re too afraid to admit it.”

“Too afraid?”

“Yes. They bury their desires under obedience, hoping it will make them feel whole. But deep down, they crave… more. They want to push against those boundaries.” He leaned in closer, his tone growing silkier. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, though you did know. It just didn’t feel safe to admit it—not to yourself, and definitely not to him. “I mean, I get frustrated, but… it’s not like I’m going to rebel against everything.”

“What if you did? What if, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to explore that side of you? The one that questions. The one that craves freedom… and maybe, other things?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled with something that felt far more dangerous than faith.

Other things. The way he said it, as if it were an invitation, hung heavily between both. You could feel the tension building, the heat.

“I think…” you started, your voice shaky, “I think people would lose their minds if I did something like that.”

His lips curled into a slow, knowing grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what they need.”

He let the words sink in before continuing, his voice dipping into something darker, more seductive. “You don’t need to live your life based on what others expect of you. There’s power in choosing for yourself.“

This conversation wasn’t going the way you’d imagined. You had expected judgment, correction—but instead, he was… encouraging you.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

You looked away, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” Charlie said softly, his voice dipping even lower. “I think you know exactly what you want. You just haven’t allowed yourself to feel it fully.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, and you couldn’t ignore the way his words wrapped around you like a dark temptation. There was a part of you that did want something—something wild, something free, something dangerous. But this? Here? With him?

“It’s okay to admit it,” Charlie said, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear now. “Sometimes… surrendering to what you really desire is more powerful than fighting it.”

Your breath caught, and for a second, you leaned into him, drawn by the magnetism of his words. It was intoxicating—the way he seemed to know exactly what to say. But you pulled back, confusion warring with the strange attraction that was blooming inside you.

“You’re a priest,” you said, as though reminding him—and yourself—would somehow break the spell.

Charlie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand temptation. Sin is… fascinating, isn’t it? Especially the kind that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.”

There was something so wrong about this conversation, and yet, you couldn’t deny the pull. The way he was making you feel—seen, understood, even desired—was something you hadn’t expected to find in this place.

He held your gaze, his confidence palpable. “You crave connection. An escape from the chains of expectation. You want to live life on your terms, even if that means stepping outside the lines drawn by those who think they know better. I admire that.”

“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” you said, trying to regain some control.

“Perhaps,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “But what if I’m willing to take that risk? To explore those uncharted waters with you?”

“Is that what you do with all the girls who come in here, Father?” you shot back, trying to mask the way your pulse quickened at the thought.

“Most don’t provoke me the way you do,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “They’re afraid to stray too far from the righteous path. But you… you have a light about you that beckons me closer. It’s intoxicating.”

Your cheeks warmed under his intense scrutiny, but you quickly shook your head, refusing to be swayed. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re a priest.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he replied smoothly, his gaze unflinching. “What does that really mean? I wear the collar, sure, but I’m also a man—one who understands the darker desires that lie beneath the surface. You’re drawn to them, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m just curious,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Curiosity is a dangerous game,” he said, his voice a seductive whisper. “Especially when it leads you to someone like me. You could explore all the answers to your questions, and perhaps even find the absolution you didn’t know you were seeking—if you dare to take that step.”

“And what’s the price for that?” you challenged, not ready to give in but undeniably intrigued.

“Just your trust,” he said, his gaze piercing through your defenses. “Let me guide you. Allow me to show you that the rules can bend, that the lines can blur. And in return, you’ll discover a side of yourself you never knew existed. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m not so easily led.”

He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He ran his thumb delicately along your lower lip. “Lose yourself in me. Let me be your forbidden pleasure, your dark indulgence. Together, we can create a sin so divine, it will set your soul free.”

You feel his thumb diving inside your mouth. He pressed his thumb deeper, exploring the warm, wet cavern of your mouth as if mapping your innermost terrain.

“Mmmm, so eager to please," he purred, his other hand sliding down your side to grip your hip, holding you steady. "Your mouth was made for sin." With a subtle twist, he coaxed your tongue to swirl around the intrusion, a sinful game of give-and-take that left you breathless and wanting more. "Such a willing little temptress,"

And before you can process, he’s kissing you. And things gets heated, fast. It doesn’t seem to matter that you both were sitting on the couch from his office, inside the church. He claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging in to dance with yours in a primal, urgent rhythm. The scent of your arousal mingled with the musky undertones of his cologne, fogging the air with a heady, addictive haze. His hands roamed your body, possessive and demanding, as he pulled you closer, his own arousal throbbing against the confines of his trousers.

“So sweet," he growled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to nip and suck his way down your neck, leaving a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses. "Such a delicious little sin."

His fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra beneath and the creamy swells of your breasts. You gasped, feeling his lips on your skin. Desperate and wanton, hungry.

He kissed and licked a path downward, pausing to toy with the lacy edge of your bra before tugging the delicate fabric aside with his teeth. His hot mouth closed over the swell of your breast, his tongue swirling to coax forth a responsive moan. His lips slid lower, fixating on your nipple. He suckled, the rhythmic pull of his lips and the scrape of his teeth sending jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through your sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm, you taste so divine," he purred, his free hand sliding up your thigh to brush against the damp fabric of your panties. "Every inch of you is made for sin."

You could foresee his intentions even before he started to move. His lips went lower down your chest, over your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt. With practiced ease, he slid his hands down your curves, peeling away the last of your garments with a hunger that bordered on reverence.

Your skirt and panties joined the discarded heap of your blouse and bra on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath his intense scrutiny. His eyes raked over you, drinking in every inch of exposed flesh as if committing it to memory. The sight of you, spread out before him, was a feast for his sinful appetites.

“Exquisite," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You're a vision of decadence. I'm going to indulge in every moment of our encounter, savoring every morsel of pleasure you offer me."

With that, he sank to his knees before you, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he gazed up at you with a wicked promise in his eyes. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper against your most intimate flesh.

And he went at it, eager to devour. He started off with a long, languid lick with the flat of his tongue, licking from the edge of your slit all the way to the clit. It was utterly sinful, erotic.

He lapped at you, his long, dexterous tongue swirling and delving with a sinful expertise that made you gasp and squirm. The flat of his tongue glided along your slit, gathering your sweet essence before he darted the tip to tease the sensitive bump of your clit. He licked and suckled, alternating between long, languid strokes and fast, frantic jabs of his tongue, each one designed to drive you a little crazier with need.

“You taste so good,," he purred, his words muffled against your pulsing flesh. "I could eat this sweet cunt all day and never tire of it."

Two fingers slipped inside you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued its relentless assault. He pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue's movements as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers curled, seeking that special spot that would send you plummeting into ecstasy. With each pass, his touch grew firmer, more insistent, as if trying to coax the very essence of your being from your depths. His lips and tongue never ceased their worship of your clit, suckling and flicking against the throbbing nub in a maddening dance of pleasure and desperation.

He could feel you teetering on the brink, your sweet cum flooding his fingers as your hips bucked and writhed in mindless need. His tongue worked frantically against your clit, a dizzying whirl of licks and suckles that left you breathless and begging for more. One last, long lick, and you were sent hurtling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through like a thunderclap.

“Yes," he hummed, his voice a reverent whisper. "Let it happen. Let me feel you cum for me." And as the waves of your climax crashed over you, he remained, drinking in every last drop of your release like a man dying of thirst.

And you thought that would be it, but no. He rearranged you, laying you down as he stripped off his cassock in a hurried tug. The garment joined the pile of your clothes, and he wasted no time unfastening his belt and shucking off his trousers. His massive cock sprang free, the thick, pulsing length already flushed and throbbing with need.

He loomed over you, his thick, throbbing cock jutting out before him like a red-hot brand, burning with the need for release. With a knee, he pushed your legs apart, spreading you in blatant invitation, before positioning himself between your thighs. One hand tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his burning gaze as he lined himself up with your most intimate entrance.

“Last chance to turn back," he growled, the tip of his cock notched against your aching flesh. "Once I sink into you, there's no going back. You'll be mine, body and soul." He paused, his expression almost wistful. "But I know you won't refuse me. You want this, as much as I do."

With that, he surged forward, burying himself in your warmth with a groan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He filled you slowly, deliberately, each inch a decadent slide into heaven as he stretched you impossibly wide around his girth. The sensation was overwhelming, the burn of his intrusion mixing with the sweet, tingling pleasure that only he could evoke. When he finally bottomed out, he paused, savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed within you. He was huge, and you could feel every throbbing inch of him as he pulsed and twitched inside you.

“So perfect," he breathed, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. He took a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to regain his composure. "You were made for me. Every curve, every hollow, every inch of your sweet cunt is tailor-made to take my cock."

He began to move, slow and deep at first, withdrawing until only the thick head remained before plunging back in, his strokes growing firmer, more insistent as he lost himself in the mindless pleasure of the joining. — He took you like a man possessed, his pace growing faster, more erratic as he chased his release. The couch creaked in protest beneath both, the sound mingling with the ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy. Your back arched, pushing your pert breasts toward his devouring mouth as he feasted on one while still pounding into you. He growled against your skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the maelstrom of pleasure wracking your body.

Your eyes rolled back, feeling him pounding deep into your cunt as he suckled your tit. Wary, you used a hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sound.

His mouth left your breast with a wet pop, and he sealed his lips over yours in a fierce, dominating kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming yours in a sensual dance that left both breathless. All the while, he continued his relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with brutal efficiency. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your sweet cream coating his shaft as you teetered on the brink of another orgasm. With a groan, he broke the kiss, his eyes blazing with a primal intensity as he prepared to unleash his own release.

“Cum for me," he commanded, his voice a raw, desperate snarl. "Take my cock, just like that. Fuck- come for me. Come on my cock.”

The mix of the sensations and the sheer desperation on his voice, how needy it suddenly sounded did it for you. As your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamped down around him like a vice, cum gushing out to coat his cock and balls. The sensation was enough to tip him over the edge, and with a hoarse bellow, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his thick seed pulsing deep inside you as his body shuddered and spasmed.

“Fuck!" he gasped, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor as he rode out the waves of his climax. "Yes... oh, god... yes..." He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch as he struggled to catch his breath.

As you recovered, you started to process. Thinking to yourself. Did you- did you just fuck a priest? Maybe you ARE as troublesome as people claim.

He slowly pulled out of you, his softening cock slipping free with a wet plop. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't overthink it, my sweet," he murmured against your mouth. "Just enjoy the afterglow."

He leaned on his elbow, his free hand gently brushing the hair from your face as he took in your flushed, sated features.

"We've both crossed lines. Lines we can't simply erase. But perhaps that's for the best. Perhaps this is the key to setting you free." A sly smile played on his lips as he stood, his naked form glistening with sweat in the dim light. "Now, how about we continue this little sin of ours in the bed, hmm?"

And as that idea enticed you… you realized that perhaps you ARE a lost cause.

[entitled-fangirl]

Too needy.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: the reader naturally has to be touching Cregan at all times. He doesn't mind, but her insecurity starts to get the better of her.

Warnings: insecurity, talks of sex

A/n: Based off an ask! I'll proofread later

Masterlist

.............................................................

He didn't react to her touches as much anymore, for they were constant. 

Winterfell expanded far and wide, and as much as her mind had tried to remember every corridor, she couldn't. 

So she always held on to him to keep from getting lost. 

At least, that was the excuse at first. Now, it was a comfort.

She held his hand, his arm, his cloak, the handle of the sword in his belt, anything that she could when they walked together.

Even now in the courtyard, she held fast to his cloak as he spoke with the stable master on a matter of his horse.

She looked around, her head on a constant swivel but her hand never faltered.

But she began to notice something.

A few that passed by had looked down at the hand that was still at Cregan's cloak and an insecurity was being prodded at.

She had noticed it for weeks now.

Perhaps they believed her to be too needy.

Perhaps they were right. 

The insecurity began to eat at her.

"Well, I thank you for your work regardless," Cregan continued to speak to the stable master, "My horse has never been more reliable. Do tell me what you believe abo-"

She zoned out from there. She was far too engrossed in noticing every little stare that came her way.

She dropped her hand from his cloak and let it fall to her side.

Cregan looked away from the man for only a moment to gaze at her. He looked down at her hand and immediately reached out and grabbed it. He then gave his attention back to the man as if nothing had happened. "Oh, I agree that when-"

She just stared down at their intertwined hands. 

She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach when he'd lightly squeeze her fingers with his own.

…

The next day, the insecurity came again when at the petitions.

Cregan never sat behind the table as the maester did. He was always in front of it, pacing back and forth or sitting on the wooden surface itself.

Whether it was to be more inviting or more intimidating, no one was sure.

So when she joined him occasionally, he'd set her onto the table. She always figured he did it to comfort her, knowing she hated to be more than two steps away from him.

And when she'd sit there with her feet dangling inches from the ground, Cregan would stay put, not letting himself pace. He'd lean against the hardy table with his big arms crossed and brow furrowed as he paid attention to whatever the next person said. 

He cared greatly for his people, and he cared greatly for his wife.

So often during these times, her hand would be on his arm, or his hand on her leg. It was a pattern they had developed over their time together.

But today was different, for the insecurity was back.

His bicep brushed against her shoulder unconsciously as his body unknowingly inched closer to her by the minute.

"I've gotta herd to care fer," the man petitioned. "And these wolves keep takin' my flock. There's been at least six of em out there snapping at my shepherds."

Cregan hummed in consideration. "Aye, your flock helps to feed Winterfell through the winter often. Tell me what solution you've come here hoping for."

The man rubbed his beard, "Well, I was hoping fer some men to help me hunt the beasts down."

Cregan chewed the inside of his cheek in thought as his shoulder brushed against his wife again.

He turned his head to her, letting his eyes rake over her as they often did. An idea came into his head.

"Alright," he agreed as he looked to the man again. "You'll have 12 men for 9 nights to sort the matter over. I'll pay for their lodging and food."

The man's eyes widened, "Oh, thank you milord. Bless you!"

"But," Cregan quickly countered with a tilted head. "I receive the coat of every wolf dead in those 9 nights."

"Consider it done, milord! Oh, thank you!"

Cregan held a hand up, "'Tis my duties. They'll be yours by the morrow."

The man left with a continued string of thanks as he left. 

"What need have we for more pelts?" She asked quietly.

Cregan's head turned to her and a small smirk pulled at his lips. "You've far too few proper cloaks."

She opened her mouth to make a small petition of her own, but the next person stepped up.

It was an older man with a permanent furrow to his brow. 

She didn't miss the way his eyes wandered over to her, utterly disgusted by the informality of Cregan's petitions.

Cregan noticed it too, and he reached over and rested his hand on her knee. He touch was light. Just a reminder that he stood next to her.

"What might the Starks do for you?" Cregan's voice echoed as he studied him.

The man's request was lost. All she could think about was Cregan's hand on her knee. 

In all truth, she had missed his touch more than she believed she should have. After all, she got it constantly. But as of the last 24 hours, she had tried to draw back from his contact.

So when his thumb brushed softly over the side of her knee, she felt a shiver run down her spine. 

She held her hands back by picking at the skin around her nails. It was a nasty habit she had picked up when she was younger. It often made comebacks when she was nervous or stressed.

Without even looking, Cregan's hand moved from her knee to grab at her hands, breaking them up to keep her from further hurting herself. How he knew without looking, she was unsure. 

But he took one of her hands and pulled it to her knee, placing it down and keeping it there with his much larger palm over the top of it. His fingers played with hers absentmindedly as he negotiated with the man about gods know what.

That nagging feeling returned in her gut as she watched his fingers brush over hers. 

She was so needy that he felt forced to comfort her in the midst of his duties. 

How pathetic.

She managed to pull her hand out from under his despite his quick reaction to try to stop her. However, he didn't grab her hand in time and he knew better than to cause a scene over it. So he pretended not to notice.

When the man was satisfied and left, she began to push herself to the edge of the table to get up. 

Cregan stood in front of her with a hand up, "Where are you going?"

"Just… to sit."

His head tilted down to catch her gaze. "To sit…? Where?"

"The…" she turned to look over her shoulder to the other side of the table. "The chairs."

His eyes squinted at her as he tried to comprehend what she had just told him, as if it was some unthinkable idea that had just been uttered. "Why would you do that?" He finally voiced. His eyes softened, "Do you need a break? We can pause for a while-"

"-No," she quickly interrupted. Her hands reached up to  move to his chest as they usually did, but she stopped halfway and let them drop back down to her lap.

It was beginning to frustrate Cregan. He was no dull man by any means. He had noticed her touches lessening, but he didn't question it at first until she began to retract from him.

"If you need no break then you'll stay here until we are finished," he softly commanded. 

She gave in almost immediately with the nod of her head.

He nodded as well, wishing to seem pleased, but further down he was trying to figure out what had caused her to be so odd as of late. He sighed and gripped her waist, pushing her back up to the table as before. He then turned and motioned for the next person to approach.

Cregan tried to pay attention this time, he really did, but it was harder to now that he had two problems to try to fix at once. And one them was far more important to him. 

He nodded along with the man for a while then tried to test his luck again, reaching over to place his hand on her knee again. But this time, his hand fell to the wood.

He looked over when he felt the coarse wood as began to stare dumbfounded at his hand.

His wife had slowly moved herself from him by about 10 centimeters.

His hand balled up into a fist for a moment before he forced to it relax. He held his other hand up and completely cut off the man speaking. "Forgive me. We're done for a moment. I require some time to collect my thoughts here."

The man jaw went slack for a moment and the maester spoke up. "Lord Stark, it's unwise to pause in the middle of-"

Cregan's glare shut him up.

"Now," Cregan said as he stood to full height. "I shall return momentarily." He stepped over to his wife, "Get up."

His voice held unresolved tension to it and it made her panic. Her shaky hands pushed her to the end of the table and onto her feet. 

Cregan's hand reached out to grab hers then paused, remembering why they were having this miscommunication in the first place and it only frustrated him more when he pulled his hand back. "Go on," he motioned to the door and quickly followed behind her. 

Just hearing the northern man's heavy footsteps close behind them would make even the bravest man falter. 

The moment the side door closed behind them, he grabbed her bicep and spun her around to him. "What are you doing?" He growled.

She couldn't make words come from her mouth, so she only shrugged a bit and gave a pitiful expression.

"Don't. You will speak to me and tell me what has caused all of this. Whatever this is," he huffed. "I don't know what it is, but I know that I hate it."

Her voice came out more broken than she intended, "I didn't mean to anger you."

Her words cause Cregan to release her bicep and take a step back from her. He runs a hand over his goatee. He tried to hide the anger from his voice this time, "I imagine you didn't. However, in no instance should you believe that pulling away from me wouldn't make me frustrated. I like having you near me. Have I not said that enough?"

"You have-"

"-You don't want my hands on you," he finished with a horrified look brewing in his eyes. "That is… fair. That is all we must say then."

"No, no, please don't!" She pleased.

He threw his hands up and let his emotions run free again, "Then what would you have me do? You want my touch but the second I give it to you, you shy away from me. I attempt to comfort your worries and you push my hand away." With each sentence, he gets closer. "Do you truly believe me so incompetent as your husband that I have not noticed your touches have become less and less on my skin? Did you think I would not notice the thing I look forward to the most suddenly disappear?"

He stops and the two just stare at one another. 

"I crave it," he whispered.

Hot tears pricked up against her eyes, threatening to fall. She sniffled in an attempt to hold everything in.

Cregan wills his hand out to brush against her cheek. "Why have you stopped?"

She finds herself leaning into his hand, and there’s no denying that she didn't yearn for his touch as well. "…the people…"

He tries to follow along, but a frown tugs at his lips. "I still don't understand."

She opened her mouth the speak, but a soft sob breaks through and she steps back from him.

He closed the gap once again, this time grabbing her face with both hands in an attempt to calm her. "Shh, stop that. My anger is through. I just wish to help you.:

She held back the rising sobs to speak with a shaky voice, "I'm far too… needy… to be your Lady."

HIs jaw goes slack as pure confusion washes over him. He took a moment to regain himself before speaking. "I swear to you that you are not." He forces her head up to catch his eye. "Do you hear me?" She nodded, but he tilted his head, "I need to hear you say it."

That forced a few more tears down her cheek.

"I have to hear you say it," he almost pleaded. "Tell me that you're perfect for me."

A hesitation came over her, but she pushed through at the sight of his gaze. "I…. "

He waited with bated breath. "You're what? Say it."

"I'm perfect for you."

A broad smile came over him. "Now I want you to believe that, yeah?" He pulled her in and gave her a searing kiss that made her lose her train of thought. "We are returning, and you will do anything that makes you better."

"Is that not improper?"

He scoffed, "I do not care if you were straddling me as you've done in our bed. If you're comfortable, then I am doing my duty to you."

She blushed deeply and playfully hit his arm. "I would not do that."

"I know that." He kissed her forehead and moved from her. "Shall we?" He asked with an extended arm.

She took it happily.

He leaned down as the door opened, "If that hadn't worked, I'd have hoped you would cave tonight when you truly crave my touch."

She entered the hall with a face darker than Lannister red.

......................................................................

A/n 2: I'm updating my taglist, so if I somehow missed anyone that wants on it, lmk!

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123

[bi-writes]

more little thoughts about curvy!sunshine!fem!reader and dark!simon (18+)

thinking about being so indifferent to his violence because it has never been directed at you. you had a bad night at the pub--an asshole tried to grab your ass in the brand new white dress you bought, with a puffy little mini skirt, and you had wanted to wear it out and get dressed up. the man had ruined your night; you just wanted to spend it with simon, drinking and spending time together, and as soon as he had his hand up your dress, and simon saw the tears in your eyes, all he could see was red.

you're sitting on the curb outside, sniffling, tears still a little damp on your face as you lick at the cone of ice cream you're holding. you click your heels against the pavement, and you look to the side when you feel a big, warm presence take a seat next to you. his shirt looks damp and sticky, and your eyes dart down to see how his boots smear blood against the ground. you smile a little through your soft tears, reaching over and sliding your arm around his. the tension in his muscles relaxes, and you lean up and kiss his cheek gently.

"did he squirm?" you ask softly as you trace his ungloved hand, running your fingers lightly over the fresh bruises there. "i know you hate it when they cry."

"didn't 'ave time t'cry," he grumbles. he leans over, kissing your forehead through the mask, holding you close. "cut his throat out before he could even think about it. and then i took his hands, luv--" you take a lick of your ice cream before you smile up at him. "didn't deserve 'em since he's had a feel 'f ya."

he lets you paint his nails. you sit on his big thigh, holding his hand up as you smooth black polish over his nail bed. you clean his cuticles and under his fingernails, giving him a nice little manicure before practicing your nail-painting skills. all he does is sit there and grumble as he watches a football game on the telly, not really paying you any mind. when you finish, you smooth lotion over his cracked knuckles and smooth some oil over his nails until they're nice and soft. when you finish, he makes you watch him stuff those fingers into your pretty pussy. he never takes his eyes off the game, but his lips twitch into the lightest smirk as he feels you writhe and squirm beside him, laid back on the couch as you wet his freshly painted nails with cum.

he never lets you cry, not really, because he fucking hates it. if you cry, he tilts your head up towards him, shoving his mask up before dragging his pink tongue up your face and ridding the pretty planes of your cheeks of any evidence. his solution to your sadness, if that doesn't work, is to put his head between your thighs and eat.

he never says no to you. wherever you want to go, he will take you. whatever you want to buy, he will buy it for you. even if it's something you technically can't have, like the vintage purse you see as you window shop with a not for sale tag on it. or the last pair of sparkly barrettes that the woman in front of you snagged first, found at the bottom of your shopping bag the next day. or the job you applied for that you knew you wouldn't get because you bombed the interview--only to receive confirmation in the middle of the night that you got the job, telling simon monday night that your new boss got mugged only a few hours after your interview!

(the bruises on his face are gnarly--and he seems to always avoid you like the plague.)

you break all his supposed boundaries in front of other people, but what they don't understand is that he has boundaries with everyone except for you. when you visit him on base, everyone tenses when you run into the rec room looking for him, slipping into the chair he sits in and taking your place on his lap. but ghost doesn't flinch as he does if others touch him. no, he just places his hand on your back to steady you. when you're out at the pub with his teammates, they stare wide-eyed as you cup his masked cheeks and kiss him all over his face--his eyes, his nose, his cheeks--but all ghost does is pat your ass soothingly and stroke along your hair gently. he stands out in crowds, so imposing and large and broad, and he ignores the stares when a pretty girl bounces into his orbit, taking his hand and pulling him along because simon, i saw this dress, but i need your help getting the zipper up--

there just isn't anyone like you. ghost feels dead, on the inside. he doesn't feel right. he knows something is so wrong inside of him. he wants to eat your glow. it's what he has loved about you since he met you. the unconditional devotion, the big heart you give him, the wet look in your eyes when he does anything for you, even when it includes the bloody stuff. even if he does the wrong thing, even if he kills the wrong man, and you know he is overreacting, you are never mad, never angry. you just kiss his scars and coo in his ear, "it's okay, you didn't know any better, you were just doing it for me, weren't you, baby?"

you give him the validation that he needs to be violent. you tell him it's okay. you aren't afraid of all the gore, of the terrible things he does, of all the things he rights with wrongs. he is quick to anger, and he finds it easy to be judge, jury, and executioner, and all you do is bat your lashes and open your legs and tell him it's okay, simon--it's okay, come here, i miss you.

you suffocate the things that scream in his ears. when it's too loud, you push him to lay down, climb up over him, put your thighs around his head and quiet the noise. you sit your pretty pussy on his mouth, and you ride his face, smoothing a hand over the balaclava that he is too busy to take off. you used to be afraid of being too heavy, of making it hard to breathe for him, but simon is a big boy, and maybe he wants to die, because you taste so sweet, and he always chubs up so easily with his hands digging into your hips and his tongue deep inside of you.

it aches, everything hurts, the world is too loud, but it isn't like this in your flat. it's just right. it's normal. it's safe. simon can be himself, and so can you, and when he is too brooding and terrifying, he looks at you, because if you're still smiling, he isn't too much of anything. and when you think you're talking too fast, when you are second-guessing the dress you want to wear, you look at him, because if he is there, nothing will ever be wrong, and no one can ever hurt you.

simon isn't a good person. you know that. he's quick to the knife. he likes to bite. he commits war crimes, and then he comes home, and no one asks him to explain himself, and no one tells him to stop what he's doing, and when he does it over and over again, all he gets is validation, medals for a job well done, and maybe you're an instigator, too, because you let him fuck you in every position whenever he comes home, a reward for bringing death to whoever was stupid enough to end up at the wrong end of his rifle.

but it's really, really hard to care. as soon as he steps through the door, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor, all of your doubts disappear. all you can do is stare at him in all his gear, swallow the drool that threatens to spill, smile--welcome home, teddy bear!

he is a bear. but you've never been on the receiving end of what scares people. if someone were to ask you what to do, you don't think you'd know what to tell them. you wonder what it is you would tell them if they begged for your help.

run away? or play dead?

[420technoblazeit]

the thing about jayce is that the same thing that makes him so annoying in season 1 also makes him so endearing in season 2. and it all comes down to his sense of loyalty. he spends a lot of time in the first season struggling with being a people pleaser and a great example of this is the aftermath of his progress day speech. heimerdinger insists that the hextech inventions need more work so he holds off on revealing them to the public, disappointing both viktor and mel. he's constantly being pulled thin by conflicting loyalties. he wants to appease the council so he rubs elbows with them and allows their illegal imports despite just raising security in the hexgates. he wants to keep the people of piltover safe so he puts up the barricade at the bridge even when that worsens the city's relationship with zaun. and when vi storms in and tells him that the best way to hurt silco is to destroy his shimmer factory he goes in swinging

but in season 2 after he quits the council jayce isn't obligated to please them and the people of piltover anymore and has some freedom to choose what he really wants. and it turns out that at his very core his loyalty is to viktor. jayce says it himself, he believes now that his place is in the lab with him, not on the council. that same devotion that led to him going astray in the first season is also what leads him to revive viktor with the hexcore. jayce just can't stand inaction. if he thinks he's found a solution he'll reach for it every time and when it comes to his place on the council that means acting against silco and intentionally or not escalating the zaun-piltover conflict. but when it comes to viktor that means doing whatever he can to save him even to the bitter end. and that makes him a much more sympathetic character because while those choices aren't necessarily morally better than the ones he made in season 1 they're also primarily motivated by his love for viktor

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (11)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player!Rafe & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.4k

Aliyah's Notes: LIFE IS GOOD DONT KYS GUYS!!!!!

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing Rafe’s penthouse in all its cold, modern glory. You stepped inside, arms full of a precariously stacked pile of boxes, your eyes scanning the pristine place. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the city, but it was the sterile, minimalist decor that always caught you by surprise.

“Wow,” you muttered, setting the boxes down with a grunt. “So this is where personality comes to die.”

Rafe appeared behind you, carrying a single suitcase and looking annoyingly relaxed (and sexy). “You’re welcome for letting you upgrade your life,” he quipped, tossing the suitcase onto the sleek leather couch. “From your childish apartment to the lap of luxury. I’m a real hero.”

“Hero, my ass,” you turned to him, hands on your hips. “And this place has all the warmth of a dentist’s office.”

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Clean, sharp, and no clutter.”

“Well, get ready for that to change,” you shot back, heading to another box. You pulled out a bright orange vase with swirling patterns and held it up with a triumphant smile. “Because this is going front and center.”

He froze mid-step, staring at the vase like it was radioactive. “No.”

“Yes,” you replied, your smile widening as you marched toward the nearest shelf.

“No,” he repeated, moving to block your path. “You’re not seriously bringing that ugly vase into my penthouse. I have standards.”

You held the vase above your head, as if presenting it to the decor gods. “Typical white man behavior,” you declared. “This must be the colonizer in you that’s stopping me from doing what I want—”

“I knew you’d start saying those things,” Rafe shook his head.

“Just because it’s colorful and unique, it’s ‘ugly’ to you.”

He crossed his arms as he looked between you and the vase. “It’s not colorful, YN, it’s an eyesore. It doesn’t ‘pop’—it assaults.”

“You wouldn’t know real art if it hit you in the face,” you retorted, setting the vase down triumphantly on a shelf. “This is staying.”

“It’s not art—it’s a cry for help,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the vase.

You smacked his hand away. “Touch it, and I’ll bring all of my colorful vases here.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You leaned in with a devilish grin. “Try me.”

The standoff had been interrupted by a loud thud as another box had toppled from the stack you had brought in. Rafe turned to survey the mess, raising an eyebrow. “What else did you bring? Your collection of weird cat figurines?”

“I’ll have you know Lady Purrsalot is a legend,” you said, brushing past him to rescue the fallen box. “And yes, she’s staying too.”

Rafe let out a dramatic groan, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the pile of your belongings filling the space. “Perfect. My penthouse is about to turn into a shrine to bad taste,” he muttered.

You shot him an incredulous look, hands on your hips, before flashing him a playful but smug smile. “This isn’t bad taste, it’s cute.”

“If I find anything glittery, it’s going straight in the trash.”

Your eyes narrowed, giving him the full force of your best glare. He winced, immediately muttering a sheepish “sorry,” his hands up in surrender. You gave him a satisfied nod, knowing he'd learned his lesson.

“You agreed to this when you accepted to marry me,” you said, your voice smooth but laced with a challenge. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow as though daring him to argue.

He sighed dramatically, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t know ‘marriage’ meant signing up for interior design hell.”

Your lips quirked upward as you threw a glance at the now-established vase. “Don’t worry, fiancé, I think you’re handling it really well for someone who just got a major upgrade in life.”

“Can’t help it,” he smirked, and stepped closer to you. “You’re kind of hard to resist,” he paused, eyes glinting with something that wasn’t just playful teasing. “Even when you’re trying to torture me with your cat figurines.”

You chuckled, stepping around him and tossing a few more things onto the shelf—mostly knick-knacks and personal items that would soon add a sense of comfort to the otherwise sterile space. You could feel the tension between you two, a quiet undercurrent of attraction, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“You have hands, and a cold shower to help you, Rafe,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Who said something was going to happen?” he smirked, and you wanted to wipe that smirk off his beautiful, beautiful face. “Are you thinking of naughty—”

“That’s enough communication for right now,” you clapped your hands. “We have more stuff to do.”

You both continued to unload boxes in comfortable silence, the sounds of moving things around punctuated by banter every now and then. Rafe was doing half of the work—he said he’d prefer you standing back and watching him take charge—and you did not mind, at all. The penthouse was big enough that it gave you space to spread out your things. Eventually, though, the once-overwhelming pile of boxes began to dwindle, and the place started to feel a little more like home.

“Alright, I think that’s the last one,” Rafe said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he stacked the final few boxes in the corner. “I’m exhausted.”

You nodded, and gave him a smile. “Thanks for the help, big arms. I would’ve taken 24 years to finish it all,” you told him and laughed. 

“You’re going to make me blush,” he joked, and you laughed some more. “Alright, now that the worst of it’s done, how about I give you the grand tour? I know you’ve been here a few times, but not everywhere. Let me show you the full deal.”

You sighed and gestured dramatically. “Lead the way.”

With a self-satisfied grin, Rafe led you down the sleek hallway. He threw open the first door with a flourish, revealing a space so minimalist it was almost sterile. “My office,” he declared.

You peeked inside, noting the barely-touched desk, the pristine shelves, and a gaming console taking up prime real estate. “Wow,” you deadpanned. “Really grinding out those business emails, huh?”

“Hey, I do plenty of work,” he said defensively. “Like checking stats, signing autographs… crushing high scores.” You rolled your eyes but followed as he moved to the next door, revealing a home gym. “State-of-the-art equipment,” he boasted. “Not that you’d know, since you don’t lift.”

“Rafe, I’m literally a model. I do pilates, yoga, and weight training.”

“Pilates doesn’t count,” he shot back, smirking. “That’s just stretching with extra steps.”

“Asshole,” you muttered, shaking your head.

He took you through a theater room, complete with plush recliners and an oversized screen, and then to his master bedroom. The sheer size of the space made you pause. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed a stunning view of the city skyline, and the decor screamed effortless luxury. You hated that it impressed you.

“Alright, you’ve had your little brag session. Can I go back to unpacking now?”

“Not yet,” he said, walking ahead of you. He stopped in front of the guest room—your room now—and pushed the door open. “Saved the best for last.”

You stepped inside, your eyes immediately catching on the changes. Gone was the sterile, hotel-like vibe. Instead, the space felt warmer, more personal. The bedding was a deep crimson red, bold and striking, and a textured rug covered the hardwood floor. Your favorite candles were neatly arranged on the windowsill, and a small vase of fresh flowers sat on the nightstand. Even your books, the ones you thought you’d packed, were already shelved on the built-in.

Your brows furrowed as you took it all in. “Why are the covers red?”

Rafe, leaning casually against the doorframe, hesitated for a beat before replying. “You know… because you…”

A teasing grin spread across your face. “Are you racially profiling me because I’m South Asian?”

His eyes widened slightly, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “What? No! That’s not—”

You cut him off, crossing your arms with mock seriousness. “Oh, sure. Just because I like vibrant colors, you think red is my personality now?”

“Okay, first of all,” he said, “you do like vibrant colors. Second, red is bold, classy, and badass—like you. So stop making me sound like a jerk.”

You raised a brow, still trying to stifle your laughter. “Smooth recovery, Cameron. Real smooth.”

“Thanks,” he said, flashing you a grin. “I aim to please,” he teased, though his smirk softened slightly. “Maids come every three days, by the way, so you don’t need to worry about keeping the place spotless.”

You crossed your arms, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “You mean I didn’t have to bring a box of cleaning supplies?”

“Nope,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “But it was cute watching you haul it up here.”

Your mouth fell open. “You let me carry that thing around when you knew I wouldn’t need it?”

“You seemed determined,” he said, his grin widening. “I didn’t want to crush your little homemaker dreams.”

You groaned.

You collapsed onto the oversized sofa with a dramatic sigh, sinking into the soft cushions as though they could swallow you whole. Your body ached from the day of unpacking and dealing with Rafe’s incessant commentary.

Rafe plopped down beside you, equally worn out but still managing to look annoyingly composed. He stretched his long legs across the coffee table, earning a glare from you.

“Feet down,” you muttered, voice muffled by the throw pillow you’d buried your face into.

“Make me,” he quipped, but the usual edge of teasing was dulled by the clear exhaustion in his tone.

You turned your head to give him a tired look, too drained to argue properly. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re bossy,” he shot back, though there was no real heat in his words. “But look at us. Day one of living together, and we didn’t kill each other. I’d say that’s progress.”

You snorted, turning to face him fully. “Barely. That vase almost did you in.”

He smirked, eyes glinting with mischief despite his fatigue. “You’ve got a lot of nerve bringing that thing into my house. It’s offensive to art.”

“It’s staying,” you declared, closing your eyes and sinking further into the couch. “I’m too tired to argue anymore.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, a stark contrast to the usual whirlwind of your dynamic. The dim lighting in the penthouse bathed the room in a soft glow, it was peaceful, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe turn his head, his gaze resting on you. But it wasn’t fleeting—his eyes lingered, studying you in a way that felt tender. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, his usually sharp blue eyes softened by the warmth of the moment. It was as if he were memorizing the curve of your cheek in the dim light, the way your hair fell over your shoulder, the quiet calm in your expression. It made your skin tingle under his attention, your pulse quickening despite the stillness.

“You did good today,” he murmured, his voice stripped of its usual cockiness, leaving only a quiet sincerity that caught you off guard.

You opened one eye to glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks...”

He shrugged, his lips curving into a small, crooked smile that made him look younger somehow, softer. “I mean it. This place… it already feels different. Warmer,” he admitted, his eyes flicking briefly to the room before returning to you. They lingered, holding yours in a way that made your breath hitch—like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing. “And not just because of that god-awful vase.”

A laugh escaped you, light and unguarded, filling the space between you. It felt good—freeing, even. The knot of tension in your chest began to loosen, melting away under the weight of his rare vulnerability. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now, Cameron,” you teased, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a quiet chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch.

The peace was interrupted by the faint buzz of your phone in your pocket. You groaned, pulling it out to check the screen. The sight of the message made your stomach twist all over again.

“Mom and Dad are flying in next week. They want to see you.”

Rafe noticed the change in your expression immediately. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the screen before locking the phone. “Nothing. Just… family stuff.”

He didn’t press, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if trying to figure out what you weren’t saying. Instead, he let his head loll back again, closing his eyes.

“Family stuff, huh?” he murmured. “Well, if it’s anything like mine, I recommend a lot of wine. Or tequila.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, though your chest still felt tight. The idea of seeing your parents again—after everything—was a storm brewing on the horizon. But for now, with Rafe beside you and the weight of the day finally catching up, you let yourself push it to the back of your mind.

“Noted,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You always wear socks indoors.” he said suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What?”

He nodded toward your feet, wiggling his own toes for emphasis. “The socks. You’ve been in them all day. Do you ever just… go barefoot?”

You looked down at the patterned socks you were wearing—yellow with tiny sunflowers. “I like socks. They’re cozy,” you replied defensively. “Not all of us can just parade around barefoot like some child.”

Rafe snorted, shaking his head. “You’re missing out. Bare feet are freedom.”

“Freedom? That’s dramatic,” you shot back.

“Dramatic is wearing sunflower socks in a penthouse,” he countered, gesturing toward your feet.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Alright, since we’re apparently sharing quirks, what’s with the candle obsession? You’ve got, like, ten of them over there.”

Rafe followed your gaze to the collection of candles on the coffee table and nearby shelves. “What can I say? I like a good vibe,” he said, shrugging.

You raised an eyebrow. “Big, tough basketball player… lighting candles to set the mood?”

He grinned, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know those candles are luxury. That one—” he pointed to a sleek black jar, “—is oud wood. Costs more than your vase, I’m sure.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “You’re just scared of the dark.”

“Not scared,” he corrected. “Just prepared. You never know when the power might go out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you said, sinking further into the cushions.

For a moment, the banter lulled, and you both stared at the flickering flame of one of the candles. Then, out of nowhere, Rafe spoke again. “I can’t whistle.”

You turned to him, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“Whistling,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Can’t do it. Never could.”

A grin spread across your face, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Wait, really? You’re telling me Mr. Perfect Athlete can’t whistle?”

“Laugh it up,” he said, though there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Everyone’s got their thing. What about you? What’s something random you can’t do?”

You thought for a moment before admitting, “I can’t snap my fingers. Like, no matter how hard I try.’”

Rafe’s eyes lit up, and he immediately sat up straighter. “No way. Let me see.”

You demonstrated, rubbing your thumb and middle finger together in an attempt to snap. The result was a sad thud.

He laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “That’s terrible.”

“Shut up,” you said, trying not to smile. “At least I can whistle.”

“Debatable,” he teased, leaning back again. “Bet your whistle sounds like a dying bird.”

“I know you’re not the one talking right now—you can’t even fucking whistle,” you shot back.

“Touché,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

The conversation flowed as easily as the soft light from the candles, meandering through odd confessions and surprising revelations. You were tucked into one corner of the oversized couch, legs crossed beneath you, while Rafe sprawled in his usual casual way, one arm slung along the back of the sofa as he toyed with a loose thread in the cushion.

“So, wait,” he said, his brows furrowing in mock disbelief. “You’re telling me you’ve never watched a single episode of The Office?”

“Not one,” you replied, unapologetic. “I’ve seen the memes. Isn’t that enough?”

Rafe placed a dramatic hand over his chest, like you’d just personally insulted him. “No, Y/N, that’s not fucking enough. You’re missing out on peak comedy.”

“I prefer my comedy with a little more effort, thank you,” you teased.

“Effort? It’s genius! Dwight Schrute alone could carry a show.”

You smirked. “Is this your idea of a personality test? Judging me based on sitcom preferences?”

“Yes!” he said, deadpan. “It tells me everything I need to know about you. And so far? Not looking great for you, wife.”

You reached over and shoved his arm lightly, laughing. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am, willingly living with you,” he shot back, grinning.

“Willingly might be a stretch,” you countered, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “Alright, since we’re trading weird facts, here’s one: I can recite the entire opening number to Wicked by heart.”

His brows lifted in surprise, but there was amusement in his gaze. “No way. Wicked? That’s the one with the green witch, right?”

“Yes, that’s the one with the green witch,” you said, mimicking his tone. “It’s a masterpiece, by the way.”

“If you say so,” he said, holding his hands up. “I just… didn’t peg you for the Broadway type.”

You shrugged, a little defensive. “What can I say? I like stories that stick with you.”

“Okay, fair. But you’re gonna have to prove it one day. Full performance.”

“Fuck no,” you said quickly, chuckling. “Your turn. What’s something no one would guess about you?”

He hesitated, looking away like he was searching for the right thing to say. Finally, he said, “I used to draw. Like, a lot.”

Your head tilted, curiosity piqued. “You? Draw? That’s amazing… but I can’t picture it.”

“Yeah, no one can,” he said with a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “I stopped when, uh, I got serious about basketball. But back in the day, I was obsessed. I even sketched my own sneaker designs once. Thought I’d have my own line or something.”

"That's actually really cool," you said, your voice warm with genuine admiration. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, sparkling with a curiosity that made his chest tighten.

For a moment, Rafe just looked at you, taken aback by the way you seemed so invested in his words, like what he said actually mattered. No one had ever looked at him like that before—not with real interest, not like this.

He cleared his throat, glancing away as a flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression. “Nah,” he said, his tone lighter than the weight in his eyes. “They’re long gone. Just... a stupid kid thing, anyway.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said, surprising even yourself with the firmness in your tone. “You should try it again. Who knows? Maybe you’d still be good at it.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment, before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe.”

The moment stretched between you, warm and unspoken, until you finally broke it with a grin. “Okay, random question: what’s your weirdest food combination?”

Rafe laughed, the sound low and genuine. “You’re gonna judge me for this.”

“Definitely,” you said without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. Peanut butter and pickles.”

Your jaw dropped, and you stared at him like he’d just confessed to a crime. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he said, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“No, thanks,” you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s some white people shit.”

“Your loss,” he said, smirking. “What about you? What’s your weird food thing?”

You hesitated, then admitted, “Okay, don’t laugh… but I dip fries in milkshakes.”

His face lit up with mock offense. “And you call me disgusting?”

“Hey, it’s a classic!” you defended.

He opened his mouth to say something, probably asking another weird question, but before the words could leave his lips, the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the cozy atmosphere.

Rafe groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Who the hell—”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe it’s one of your girlfriends that you didn’t tell me about.”

“Funny,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched as he stood up.

Before he could reach the door, the muffled sound of voices filtered through, followed by another ring—longer this time, like someone was leaning on the buzzer.

“Open up, Rafael!” a familiar voice called out.

“Oh, great,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for the door.

Sarah, JJ, and Aisha entered, bringing the kind of chaos only they could manage. Sarah deposited a pizza box on the living room table with a dramatic flourish, while JJ hoisted a takeout bag in the air like a trophy.

“Food’s here, peasants,” JJ announced, dropping onto the couch beside you as though he owned it. He nudged your leg with his knee, grinning like a kid who’d just pulled off a prank. “You’re welcome for saving you from whatever sad dinner you were planning.”

“JJ, be polite,” Sarah muttered as she flopped onto the rug with a container of fries. 

“Polite is boring,” JJ retorted. “You’re welcome for making your life exciting.”

“You’re fucking annoying,” Rafe said, sitting next to his sister.

“See? That’s gratitude,” JJ replied, leaning back and helping himself to the fries Sarah had claimed.

Aisha rolled her eyes as she set plates on the table. “I didn’t know people like him existed until twenty minutes ago.”

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said, winking at her.

“Anyway,” Sarah cut in, already swiping a slice of pizza, “what were you two up to before we so graciously interrupted?”

“I was gonna ask her dream place to live,” Rafe said, his voice carrying a teasing edge as he leaned against the counter. “But I guess we’ll never know now, thanks to you guys.”

“Oh, we’re not letting that go,” Sarah declared, pointing a fry at you. “Spill it. Where’s your dream home?”

You waved her off. “It’s not that interesting.”

“Now you have to tell us,” JJ said, sitting up straighter with exaggerated curiosity. “Somewhere glamorous, right? Like Paris? Or Cleveland. I feel like you give Cleveland energy.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “What does that even mean?”

“Cleveland has a vibe!” JJ insisted.

“No one says that,” Aisha shot back, throwing a balled-up napkin at him.

Sarah shook her head, laughing. “I’m guessing you’re a Milan or Tokyo kind of girl. Am I close?”

“Closer,” you admitted, smiling despite their relentless pestering. “London. Somewhere with smarter, and more fun people.”

“Cool,” Sarah said with a grin, nodding approvingly.

“Basic,” Rafe quipped, earning a pillow to the chest from you.

“Say that again, and I’m redecorating this whole place with vases,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Vasegate continues,” JJ deadpanned, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “What a tragic tale.”

“Can we talk about how you two are already bickering like an old married couple?” Aisha said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s very domestic in here.”

Rafe snorted. “Please. If this is domestic bliss, I want a refund.”

“He’s been annoying since this morning,” you countered, smirking at Rafe. “He’s been critiquing my interior design all day. He’s very invested.”

“Someone had to be,” Rafe shot back, but his eyes softened when they met yours, the teasing edge in his voice blunted by something warmer.

“I think it’s cute,” Sarah interjected, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “You guys are like one of those sitcom couples that secretly loves each other but spends every episode pretending they don’t.”

“Excuse me,” JJ said, raising his hand like a teacher’s pet. “If this is a sitcom, I’m the fan-favorite supporting character. Just putting that out there.”

“You wish,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

“And what does that make me?” Aisha asked, feigning offense.

“The responsible one who keeps everyone from burning the house down,” you said with a laugh, nudging her shoulder.

“Accurate,” Sarah replied, grinning. 

“But seriously, this is nice. All of us hanging out. It feels... cozy,” you said, with a small smile.

JJ gasped dramatically. “Is that sentiment I hear? Someone mark the calendar!”

“Watch your mouth, Maybank,” Rafe warned.

The conversation flowed easily after that, bouncing from JJ’s ridiculous anecdotes about being chased by geese to Sarah recounting a disastrous double date she’d been on. Rafe chimed in with sarcastic remarks that made everyone laugh, and even Aisha’s usual composed demeanor cracked when JJ impersonated Rafe’s annoyed voice.

At one point, Aisha leaned over to you, her voice low. “You seem happier,” she said, her eyes soft.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“With him,” she said, nodding subtly toward Rafe, who was currently trying (and failing) to win an arm-wrestling match with his sister. “I don’t know. There’s just... something lighter about you.”

Your gaze shifted to Rafe as he laughed at something JJ said, his shoulders relaxed, his grin unguarded. He caught your eye for a moment, his expression softening in a way that sent a ripple through your chest.

You turned back to Aisha, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said simply, and she gave you a knowing look before standing to help gather the empty containers.

By the time everyone started leaving, the penthouse felt fuller, warmer. Sarah and JJ bickered their way out the door, and Aisha hugged you tightly, her smile lingering as she said, “You deserve this. Don’t forget that.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, you leaned against it, the quiet settling back in. Rafe glanced up from where he was stacking empty pizza boxes, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head as you pushed off the door. “Just... thinking.”

“That’s never good,” he teased, his smirk softening as you joined him to help clean up.

And as you cleaned side by side, the thought lingered: maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the chaos you’d expected. Maybe it was something better.

chapter twelve

INFO ABOUT UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @aliyahwritings-notifs and turn on notifications!!!

[mrfoox]

People showing and expressing genuine worry about me/my well being... Oh... Oh um... I love what's happening here but I don't know how to accept it well. I'll be fine tho, thank you

[melanchol1cs]

WHAT GOOD IS SORRY?

ex husband!leon x f!reader

word count: 3.3k summary: why does one wound those they love so deeply? masterlist | taglist | wips

18+ MDNI. mentions of divorce, cheating/infidelity, awkward leon stuff, guilt, yearning, leon and reader have a child together — and i named her denise for whatever reason, getting stood up by a date, drunk texting, kissing, oral(r!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bittersweet ending(?) i guess.

a/n: old wip,, this was supposed to be super gut wrenching and angsty but for some reason, my brain didn’t want to cooperate and decided that this would be the ending. also, i’ve been contemplating whether to address this or not and even tho its not a big issue, PLEASE interact with my posts. it’s the only way i’m able to know that you guys actually like the stuff i write, and ever since i’ve started writing on here 7 months ago, i’ve been noticing a decrease in interactions. im honestly losing motivation to write because i truly don’t know if people actually read my shit and like it. anyway, enjoy my mediocre writing ^___^

leon regrets everything he’s done up to this point. running into ada on a mission, going to the bar with her afterwards, and the kiss. the stupid kiss that eventually led up to this.

the divorce.

it all felt wrong, so wrong. yet here he was, driving his car to your doorstep, his stomach in knots despite having done this several times before.

for the sake of your daughter, the two of you had decided that shared custody would be the best option.

he stands at the door, hesitating before knocking, his knuckles hovering anxiously. clearing his throat, he gently raps his knuckles against the door, hoping for an answer. he's already second-guessing himself, wondering if he should have texted or called first.

your door eventually opens, and he's met with a familiar face. you.

you greet him with a civil smile, pressing a kiss into your daughter’s hair before ushering her inside.

he fidgets, adjusting the brim of his leather jacket nervously as he takes in the sight of you.

you reach to shut the door, catching a glimpse of him awkwardly hovering over you porch.

“you okay?”

he tries to find his voice. "yeah, i just, uh... i was just thinking..”

he looks down at his feet, kicking the ground with the side of his scuffed boot, as if trying to buy some time or maybe just willing the floor to swallow him up. when he speaks, his voice is low and sheepish. “when i was— last night, i thought… uh, do- do you remember when.. shit. are you free this weekend?”

”what?” you muse at his question. “leon, i really don’t wanna have this conversation with you again,”

he winces at the rebuff, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a defensive measure.

leon’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, his ears burning at your words. he looks anywhere but at you, his eyes darting over the porch railing, the foliage, the sky — anywhere but your eyes. oh, those eyes he adored so much.

"no, wait, hear me out,”

"listen..." he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever fallout this might bring, knowing he's already on shaky ground. “i just wanna talk.. to you.”

he shifts his weight, glancing up at the roof of the house as if the heavens themselves could offer a solution. when he does meet your gaze again, his eyes are pleading, his jaw clenched with a mix of anxiety and something akin to desperation.

“i’m sorry, leon. i’m busy,”

he scoffs and his face scrunches up, a pained grimace contorting his features as he cuts you off. “c’mon, please?” he's standing too close now, invading the personal space he once knew so well. “i.. i know it isn’t what we do anymore but—“

“no, seriously. i literally can’t. i have something up.”

“oh.” he deflates slightly at your dismissal, shoulders slumping in defeat. a soft, regretful sigh escapes his parted lips, and his eyes drop, gaze wandering aimlessly. "can- can you can you cancel? is it really important? what about on sunday-? i’m sure we can..“

“leon.” it's not a question this time, you stare at him with the tiniest hint of pity. “i have a date.”

ouch. he freezes, his chest constricting as if he's been punched. a date? the words echo in his mind, each syllable like a dagger to his pride, his ego, his everything. a muscle in his jaw twitches, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. leon swallows hard, his throat suddenly parched.

"oh," he repeats, the sound barely above a whisper. he takes a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him.

he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, jaw working in agitation as he grapples with the blow of your words. a snarky retort rises in his throat, a cutting remark to deflect the sting, but it withers on his tongue, a futile attempt at salvaging pride he knows is misplaced.

leon swallows hard, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice, laced with a wry bitterness. “yeah, no worries.. guess that's that," a bitter, hollow chuckle escapes him as he shifts his weight. his tone is flippant, trying to mask the sting of rejection, but the defeat is palpable as he turns to leave. he starts down the porch steps, his boots thudding against the wooden slats.

you finally close the door on him, standing by the door, hand on the knob, unease prickling along you skin like a thousand tiny needles, each one stinging with the weight of guilt. you sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tries to process her feelings. guilt, regret, a twinge longing — it's all so confusing, so messy.

the weight of his pleading eyes, the desperation in his tone — he had no right acting like a dejected puppy after he cheated on you.

you shake your head, face between your hands. he made his choices, just as you had, and now it was time to move on. you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped away from the door, determined to let go of the ghost of what was and focus on the life you were building. for you, and your daughter.

but it’s not really easy.

not when you’re sitting alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date that never bothered to show.

your phone buzzes and you hold your breath. hoping for some sort of confirmation, but it's quickly snuffed out.

‘hey, sorry i couldn’t make it. something important came up’ the simple text reads. the same stupid excuse. every. single. time. your heart sinks, a dull ache forming in the pit of your stomach.

a bitter, derisive chuckle escapes your lips. serves you right. you knew he was trouble from the start. yet, your heart aches, a dull throb of pain and disappointment. you feel so foolish, sitting there, waiting for someone who never shows. though, it isn't really new.

now you lay in your bed, having already kicked off your heels and changed out of the uncomfortably tight dress you wore.

you pull the blankets up to your chin, suddenly feeling cold. you toss and turn, brooding and wallowing in misery, and it seemed like you’ve been doing it for hours till you’re startled out of your fitful doze by the buzz of your phone.

it's a text from leon, of course it is. it’s another one of his ‘where are u? i miss u’ ‘can’t stop thinking about you. please let me c u’ meltdowns.

he's drunk again, you can tell by the sloppy caps and the desperate pleas. every time he has a rough night, he always thinks coming over will magically fix everything. and you always refuse, knowing he’s only drunk and alone. but tonight, you feel particularly lonely.

your thumb hovers over the keyboard, and before you know it, you're typing. ‘come over.’ you hesitate, then send the message.

by then, he’s already halfway out the door, stumbling out and nearly falling as he trips over his own feet in his haste. he takes the stairs two at a time, a goofy, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. when he reaches your door, he pounds on it with a fist. his breath comes out in short puffs as he waits, anticipation making his heart race.

click.

the door creaks open a fraction and his eyes lock onto you, looking all soft and domestic in a robe. leon's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drink you in.

he tumbles in, arms outstretched as if he's about to catch something. he's immediately in your space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, breathless with relief and something else, something suspiciously like love.

“leon—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of beer and regret in his breath. his hands roam, sliding up your back, gripping your hair, fingers splayed wide as if to assure himself you're real. a low, desperate sound escapes him, half-groan, half-moan as his body presses against yours. he's desperate, sloppy, but undeniably passionate. when he finally breaks for air, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes glassy with drink and longing.

“missed you s’ much, baby,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the pulse point with a reverence that borders worship.

“let me make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, an expression so pathetic it’s comical. yet, the desperation behind them makes it anything but.

his hands skim down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. his face buried in the crook of your neck as his hands knead the meat of your ass, claws digging in through the fabric of your robe. his breath hitches as he nuzzles into you, inhaling deeply as if committing you to memory.

he trails a string of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to nibble on your collarbone before continuing his journey south. his hands never stop moving, roaming over your body with an insatiable hunger.

you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "bedroom," you breathe out, and he happily obliges.

once inside, he kicks the door shut behind him and spins you around, backing you up against the bed. he begins to undo your robe with shaking fingers, your heavy breathing and the rustling of silk the only sounds in the charged silence between you. when the robe falls open, he pushes it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.

the thin, sheer fabric of your nightgown offers little resistance as he practically rips it off you. a shaky breath escapes his parted lips as he reaches for you again, fingers grazing your skin as if he's not quite trusting his own touch.

he guides you to the bed, pushing you to sit on the edge. he immediately drops to his knees before you, face between your legs.

“these ‘re pretty,” he slurs out, before he fucking tears your underwear off.

“leon!”

he chuckles at your reaction, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. “sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. “gonna buy you new ones,”

his stubble scrapes against your sensitive skin as he slowly trails open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, savoring every inch of you that you’re willing to give him.

he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking with a single-minded devotion that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

god, it’s been so long. the feelings practically foreign.

his tongue begins to lash at your slit, long and flat, with a dexterity that belies his level of inebriation.

“you still mine?” he huffs. “‘course you are, ‘m the only one that can get ya this wet,”

slurp, smack, suck, repeat.

his tongue is relentless, probing your entrance, swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. he's sloppy, uncoordinated, but it only serves to heighten the intensity of it all. every time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the vibrations of his moans against your most intimate flesh. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging him closer as your back arches off the bed. a keening whimper escapes you, the sound muffled by your clenched teeth as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control.

“fuck, leon—” your words trail off into incoherent mumbles as he drives you closer to the edge, tongue darting in and out with a pace that’ll make a grown woman go crazy. “d-denise, were gonna wake her up,”

a low growl rumbles in his chest as he responds to your whine. there's a hint of accusation in his gaze, but it quickly morphs into a look of raw, desperate need. “don’t matter,” he's relentless, persistent, refusing to back down even as you tremble and writhe beneath him.

he grunts, his attention snapping back to you, blue eyes squinting as he looks up from between your thighs. his tongue is a damn metronome, lapping and smacking with a relentless rhythm that has you chasing the edge of oblivion.

it's like every drunken fantasy he's ever had is being poured out onto you. messy, uncoordinated, desperate. and you’re eating it up. “gonna make you forget all about that stupid date," he mutters through slurred words. "’m the only man who can make you feel this good,"

he's not wrong. the way he's attacking you with his tongue, it's like he's trying to prove a fucking point.

"leon, please," you gasp out, and he takes it as an invitation to continue. your entire body is wound up tight, a taut string ready to snap. he slips a finger in, then two, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that spongy spot that has you seeing stars.

your legs wrap around his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pull him in as close as humanly possible. his name is a chant on your lips, a prayer to the gods of pleasure. "leon, leon, leon,". denise could come in right now and catch you like this — legs splayed, back arched, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. he's that good. or maybe that bad. you dont know. and you don’t care to find out.

"yeah, just like that," he praises, voice a low, gravelly growl. "love my fingers in this greedy little cunt, don't you?"

your thighs clench around his head, heels digging into his back as you ride out the pleasure. "gonna cum, leon, please—“ yours words trail off into a wail, a keen of pure, unadulterated euphoria.

your back arches, toes curl, and your fingers dig into his hair, holding him to you as the wave crashes over you. he tugs you down to the edge of the bed, practically burying his face in your groin. he laps at your slit, in and out, in and out, until the last bit of resistance melts away.

he lifts his face from between your legs, eyes hazy and unfocused as he fumbles to unbuckle his pants. once he has it off, he's back, pushing your legs apart as he kneels between them. the thick of his length throbs against your lower belly, and you can feel his racing heartbeat through every inch of him that's in contact with you.

he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, pressing in just enough to make you feel the pressure, gathering your juices before giving a long, slow stroke up and down, coating himself in you. he's throbbing, pulsing with need, and you can practically taste the desperation in your mouth.

he presses in, just the tip at first, then a bit more. slow, shallow strokes, in and out. his hips rock against yours, the motion slow and languid. one of his hands cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your closed eyelids to check if he was dreaming. the other hand palms the small of your back, fingers digging in as if to anchor himself. your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as he slowly sinks into you.

he's quiet for a moment, just holding you, his heart racing in his chest as if he's trying to communicate something without using words. his hips move, the action slow and lazy, as if he's trying to spoon you into submission.

he pulls out, just to the tip, before pushing back in. the motion is slow, sensual, a deliberate teasing that has you whining and writhing beneath him.

sweat beads on his brow, tracing down the lines of his face, but he doesn't slow. if anything, he's driven by a desperate need to make up for lost time, to prove himself worthy of you. your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he pistons in and out, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. he's not gentle, not soft, but rough and demanding, just like he always used to be when he was trying to stake his claim.

he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before he sooths it with his tongue. “fuck, feels so good,” he gasps out, his words punctuated by the slap of skin against skin. “can't believe i ever let you go.”

"leon," you whimper, the name a plea, a prayer. his lips find yours in a sloppy, frantic kiss. he's drinking you in, devouring your mouth, your moans, your gasps, trying to consume every ounce of you.

he's sweating, hair a mess, face scrunched up in concentration, but those blue eyes remain locked on yours.

you're lost in the sensation, every nerve ending on high alert, screaming for friction, for relief, for release. "leon, leon, gonna cum," you pant, your voice raw, your throat dry. "please, i—" but your pleas are swallowed by his next thrust, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

he leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours, noses nearly touching. his hot breath mingles with yours, the scent of his beer-soaked breath and the musk of his arousal mingling together in the most intoxicating way. "love you," he suddenly whispers, the words a quiet, a desperate confession that hangs in the air between you.

“love you, love you, fuck—“

the way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. for a long moment, he stays frozen, buried to the hilt, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

the heat of your body seeps into his skin, chasing away the chill of the night air. he collapses against you, a boneless heap of satisfied male. his cock throbs, pulses, and drips onto the bed between your legs as he tries to catch his breath. the room is silent, save for your joint heavy breathing, and the occasional groan as his softening length slips out of you. eventually, he rolls off, lying on his back beside you, one big hand coming to rest on your stomach, thumb stroking in a slow, idle pattern. his eyes are hazy, unfocused, but they find yours and hold. a small, sheepish smile tugs at his lips.

"sorry," he slurs out, the word garbled and slightly off-kilter. "i shoulda been better, should’ve tried harder, i... i‘m gonna make things right, i swear,"

he peppers your neck with soft kisses, his stubble rasping against your tender flesh. he's warm, solid, and comforting. gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the desperation that drove him mere moments ago.

he's not reaching for grand gestures or flowery declarations. he's asking for something simple, intimate, and achingly human. a chance to hold you, to sleep beside you, to maybe, begin to rebuild something from the rubble of what once was.

and for a moment, you let yourself believe that he’ll be different this time. that he's not just trying to relive past glories, but genuinely wants to make amends, to start anew.

tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae

[thedivinetarot]

My baby used to dance underneath my architecture

What will your spouse love about you?

☆How to chose the perfect pile for you?

1) Close your eyes.

2) Clear your mind.

3) Take a deep breath.

4) Ask the question in your head. And then open your eyes and the picture you're drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Note:

- Thank you guys for 300 followers. I'm really happy and grateful to have you all in this sacred space of my mine.

- This is a general reading for the collective or whoever read the post. So, take what resonates for you as a person.

- I usually do an energy check for each pile so that the reading can resonates as much as possible to the reader.

- In this reading we are going to know what your spouse love the most about you.

- This reading can be applied on your current partner or future spouse. Please don't read it for your crush or someone you are briefly dating; this is a totally different situations.

Lots of love ❤

Arya

Pile 1 - Last dance

Your current energy

I see that this pile is spending time with their family and specifically with an old man. It could be your grandpa or your father or someone old in your family. If not then there's a man in your family who is sick and you are taking care of them. I see that it's not going to be that serious they will get well soon, they need a little rest and everything will be alright. I see that some people in this pile have been dealing with poverty or lack of money/ financial support. I see you not doing anything about it, you feel like this thing is out of your hand. Or (another energy I'm picking up on) I feel like this pile have someone sick or died in their family and they cannot pay the hospital or funeral bills which is leading them to feel powerless and in debt (I'm so sorry if this is you). Another case I'm seeing is that this pile may lost their money on something they're addicted to; could be liquor, food, drugs (I see a thing not a person to be specific). I see also that this addiction is so strong you feel like you cannot put a boundary for and it drive your insane. You might be addicted to shopping or thrifting? Anyways, I see also that you are working so hard on that addiction because it is unhealthy for you pile 1. I asked for an advice for you and I got that you need to be more assertive about your feelings pile 1, don't let them drive you insane. I see there's an ungrounded energy here. Like someone can't set still. The cards are telling me that you need to be more assertive and take small baby steps solutions in order for you to reach where you want to be.

What will your spouse love about you?

Well, I like the energy here. I see that you are a multidimensional person with many and many layers. Your future spouse will loovvve your sense of logic. Even if you are emotional or think with your heart instead of your head. He will love how your brain works I see that he will love also how feminine and sweet you are. You might be curvy or fat but your spouse love those curves or fatness. He love how motherly you look. You see those girls who are overweight/curvy or chubby but there's something so comforting and motherly about them that you want to hug them and take care of them? That's what your spouse will love and this is how he sees you. I see that you are also someone who hates injustice, you hate how people treat each other like trash. You hate it when someone is treated unfairly in front of you. Or you might be someone who was treated unfairly because of how you look or your personality but don't worry your spouse is going to love it. Also I see that you are someone who is very assertive and you see things from a different angle. I see that you have a very structured routine that is in order. Also I see that people in this pile are quite spiritual, they believe in Karma and justice. Your spouse will literally love all of those things about you. Also I see he will love how persistent and stubborn you are. You might be someone who plant the seed, protect it, nurture it until is become a beautiful tree then you set under it to enjoy the fruit of it and it's shadow. Pile one you are an amazing person and your spouse see how much you put effort into anything and everything. You might be someone with the motto " Take care of your own garden if you want to attract butterflies and if butterflies didn't come then you have a wonderful garden to enjoy". Also I see that this pile is not afraid to walk away from situations that is not serving them anymore; I see that your spouse love how you are not too attached to them. You are not clingy pile 1 and your spouse respect that. I see that you love challenges and you embrace it with a huge smile on your face. You like to the challenge and you like the thrill and you like how much it changes you.

Placements for this pile

Aries, Taurus, Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Aquarius, Neptune, Moon, Saturn, Mercury dominant in your chart, stallium in the 1st/7th/2nd/11th/4th/12th house.

Pile 2 - smiling Christine

Your current energy

This pile is taking care of someone young like a sibling or you might be a babysitter who is working on their independence by taking care of children. I see a young adult here around 18 to 24 years old. I see that this pile is determined on making their dreams come true. You might be saving money or you started to take an action towards a hobby that might get you attention from the public, like a tiktok account or IG or any form of social media. You might be someone who was held back by limiting beliefs about yourself but that changed now and you are more confident in your ability and your talents. I see a tarot reader here or someone who is psychic or a witch like me (hello fellow witches, tarot readers or psychics). I see that you are discovering your talents finally and working on either to get noticed by the public for them or to improve them before you become a celebrity or known person for that talent. I see also that there's someone here who is learning about their roots or your own culture. Your parents might moved to another country and never really had the chance to introduce you to your culture but now you are allowing yourself as an adult to get to know your roots and culture. Another thing I'm picking up on is that people in this pile are very independent, they do their own thing, take care of themselves but there's this nostalgic feeling to your childhood or when you were a child. I see also that you might be someone who their grandparents was your entire childhood. Like they might have took care of you or you grew up around them. I see that for some of you; your grandmother was a witch or a healer or knows alot of tarot or astrology. And if not then she might be so familiar with religion (any nothing specific) and you took this gift from her and now your psychic abilities or gifts are being developed. Hey! Also I'm picking up on something else pile 2, the wheel of fortune is finally spinning your way. So, if you have been unlucky in your life then the luck is on your side from now on. I see that you worked very hard on yourself and now everything is going to be the way you dreamed of wanted. I see also that your dreams carry a significant meaning or warning do not ignore them okay?

What will your spouse love about you?

Okay, your spouse is going to love how patient you are. You might be someone who things never really worked out for them or your spouse's life was really that good until you entered their life and boom everything turned out to be soooo good. I think because you are a healer or a witch then you have a good karma to you or your energy is so uplifting that your spouse's life got turned upside down for the better after you entered his life. I see that you are literally that girl who is very nurturing, caring and gentle. I'm picking up on capricorn placements. You are someone who is the boss (and no one is going to handle this side of you like your spouse). I see that you might be someone who is business oriented, you are someone who is very practical. I'm picking up on someone with earth mercury, no one can fool you because you can freaking find out. I see also that you are not really afraid of loneliness, you can easily turn it into solitude and enjoy your time (queen I respect that 💋👑). I see also that you are very loyal and marriage/ relationship material. You might be someone who gives a lot of dating advice to your friends and get the ick from people who date dusties. I also see that you are so sexy or controlling. You know those jealous wifey or girlfriends who are very controlling and obsessed with their partner? You might be one of them and your spouse ADORE that!. Anyways, I see also that you might be too attached to your spouse and he love it. I'm getting pluto-venus aspects in your chart. I'm also hearing obsessed and loyal and your spouse love that. Idk why but I feel like this person will love your private area or how sensual you are. There's something sexual here that I shouldn't write but I will anyways. This person love how your private area feels on his pepe and if you are a man or masculine then you are going to love how she feels (if you know what I mean), I guess he like to stay inside and enjoy or he might stay there a little longer just to be close. I feel like this pile is shy too and you look adorable when you get shy and blush.

Placements for this pile

Virgo, Cancer, Aries, Capricorn, Saturn, Taurus, mercury in earth sign, mercury, jupiter, venus dominant in your chart, stallium in the 1st/2nd/10th/4th/6th house. Pluto-venus making aspects in your chart.

Pile 3 - Christine in front of a mirror

Your current energy

Oh, I feel so sorry for this pile. Guys you might be dealing with a lot right now. I see that you are carrying your emotional baggage on your back refusing to let it go. I see that this pile are very overwhelmed by those emotions. I feel like there's a relationship with someone with Aquarius placements that really ended but you are refusing to believe that this person is gone and will never return. I see that you are nostalgic to them and you miss them a lot. You miss when you both were together having fun and hanging out. You are refusing to let this person go because you think they are the one but they are not. It is not necessary that this relationship is karmic. But I'm seeing that you are refusing to heal and move on you are literally getting yourself stuck by your own hands. Please try to rewire your brain, trick it to think that you'll be fine without that person. I see this lack will be over because your spirit angel is telling me that your soulmate will soon enter your life pile 3! How wonderful. This person will be blonde, chubby and cute. He will take care of you. Also, they are telling me that you need to put a FULL STOP to that situation/connection and stop hanging there in hope that the ex/old person will return. Your soulmate will soon be in your life how magnificent is that? Anyways what you actually need more than anything is to understand that life is abundant of choices and that one person was a lesson for you to grow and learn something new. Spirits are encouraging you to learn how to put boundaries (healthy ones) and do not get too attached to that person or the new one. You need to love them and embrace that feeling without getting attached to them. That's how love works, you chose to love a person but you are not attached to them. No, you are fine without them and everything is alright. Also try to get out of your comfort zone. Learn about detachment and your attachment style so you can love freely.

God bless you pile 3 I wish you healing and peace.

What will your spouse love about you?

Hehe, I see that your spouse love how quarrelsome you are. You like to debate with them. You like the thrill of proving your point of view. I feel like you are an ENTP Idk why I get that feeling. I see also might be someone who is balanced and connected to the higher source of power or God. You might be someone with active crown chakra, you are not attached to material things like other people. Like you know that you were born to die, listen to born to die by Lana Del Rey if you want to. I see that you may be your spouse's type. I see that this man is literally manifested you. I'm also picking up on the lyric of "I'm your dream come true" feather by Sabrina Carpenter. You are this person's dream come true. Also you might be someone who is firm and still. There's this firmness and stillness in your opinions and views that can't really be changed. You are a predictable person and your spouse love how he can predict your actions. I also see that you are very independent and you have your own things and your own life. The keyboard typed wlw (woman love woman) so you might be in a same sex relationship too. Anyways, what your spouse doesn't really like is how much you carry on your shoulder. You might be someone who was hyper independent or was single for a very long time that you cannot allow your spouse to help you. I'm picturing someone who used to do alot of things alone and never really dated anyone for a long time so you are used to doing your things for yourself. I see also that you might like traveling? Or you love to learn about cultures? Yeah it can be a thing. I also see that your spouse can be from a different city or different country. The cards are telling me that you are very childish and naive or look like that. You might be someone who experienced poverty or lack of money or financial stability. Your spouse want you to know that he is going to spoil you rotten and take care of you. Also he want you to know that both of you will build an empire together so keep yourself open for that. I see also that your spouse is a master manifesto sooo he probably manifested someone like you into his life. There's something here about your looks, he might also like how you look like. I see that he will have his venus in your ascendant or your mars in his ascendant because the chemistry between you two is undeniable.

Placements for this pile

Sagittarius, Gemini, Leo, Aries, Pisces, Cancer, Jupiter, mars, mercury, moon as dominant planets in your chart. Stallium in the 9th/1st/4th/3rd/5th/12th house. For the mbti ENTP, ENFP and ESFP.

Pile 4 - Enchanting Vanity

Your current energy

Hmmm okay, this pile here is being pursued or confused between two people. I see that you might be liking someone for how they look and the other because of their money or because you see something with them in the future. There's conflict here and it is in you pile 4. This pile, I believe that they are being confused between those two people and who is their twin flame. You might be mistaken your twin flame for someone who is not or the opposite. Like, you might think that this is not your twin flame but they are. I see also that you are very restless. And you cannot truly see who is your person. The cards are advising you take time alone and reflect on your values. I see that you are afraid to be alone and independent. You are afraid to show your weakness and vulnerable side to people which lead you to overthink or obsess over the outcome. So, I guess it is better for you pile 4 to just set alone and face that. Face your fears or vulnerability and don't obsess over the outcome. Also this pile is like pile 3, they need to detach and practice mindfulness in order for them to see the truth. I will give you a tip about detachment; all you have to do is to imagine that what you are going through is a story someone is telling you. Then use logic to analyze the story that the imaginary person have told you to decide whether you should or shouldn't take an action or not and if not action then a solution. Imagine for example, that a friend came to you for a problem, how will you help them? Will you take a step back to see the bigger picture? What is a good solution you will give to that friend? And so on and so forth. About the two people you are seeing, reflect on your values and see who exactly have the similar values as you. I'm also seeing one of them is cancer and the other is taurus and if not then you might have those placements. I'm pretty sure that the universe is going to guide you towards a solution, you need to be open I order to see the synchronicity that is going to give you the answer.

What will your spouse love about you?

I see that this pile work really hard to keep themselves fit and in a good shape. You might be someone who was overweight previously and you work very hard to not go back to what you were. Your spouse love and respect how you take care of yourself. He love how you care about your health. I see also he hate to see you overthinking but love it when you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of them. The cards also are telling me that your spouse love how you forgive people and move on, you might be someone who is not spiteful towards people who hurt you, you heal and wish them to heal instead of hating on them nonstop. I see that you don't forget but you forgive. I see also that you have this inner power to you that make your spouse go insane for you. You might be someone who is into manifestations and the law of attraction and other stuff related to this. You might even manifested this person and he is in awe of you. I see that you are very patient, very strong headed. What is yours will find you and you do not chase you attract. He might love your family or your roots or your culture. I see a culture difference here like pile 3 so go read it if you want to. Anyways, I see that he also admire your private part and if you are a man then she might like your thing. I see that they (your spouse) will LOVE your area so much and think that it is sooo feminine. You might be someone who knows how to take care of that place and you keep it shaved and clean. I'm also picking up on hygiene, so you might be someone who always shower and keep themselves shaved and fresh. You might use expensive perfume or you just looveee to shower yourself with perfume after you finish showering. You might also have a long body care routine like those pretty girls on YouTube. All of those stuff is really something very admirable by your spouse. You might be someone who is quite adventurous and any chance to travel somewhere is un-wasted by you. Like you can't set still in one place for a long time. You need to travel and discover. You are very open to try a lot of things. Open to cultures, you like to try new different food, different places, and you cannot handle the idea of staying in the same place always.

Sorry if this pile was short the messages was straight forward.

Placements for this pile

Earth placements (taurus, virgo and capricorn). Gemini, cancer, moon, venus, Saturn, mars as dominant planets. Stallium in the 10th/6th/2nd/4th/3rd house in your chart.

Post date: Fri- 13t of sep/2024

*Feedback is appreciated

[thisisntmyrightera]

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 5

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

''Get on the floor, I'll be on top of you, don't open your eyes or make any noise, no matter what happens or what you hear, don't move, do you understand?''

Those words from Hyun-Ju repeated themselves in my head as we slowly descended the stairs from the beds without making a sound.

She was in front of me, holding my hand, no one made a single noise as everyone went down to their respective hiding place.

Once down in the darkness, I could feel her hand take my shoulder, indicating that I should crouch down, with my chest on the floor, I slid under the bed, crossing my arms against the floor, hiding my face between them as I closed my eyes.

I could feel Hyun-Ju's weight on me, her chest pressed against my back as she breathed heavily without making a sound, her arms around my head and her legs around mine, making it impossible for me to move a single centimeter.

From one second to the next the screams of people being killed and those who killed them was the only sound around as some cursed each other, structures falling and bodies crashing against the floor.

Shh… I'm here - Hyun-Ju whispered in my ear placing her hands on my ears trying to silence the chaos around me, but I could still notice it, it was impossible not to notice the hatred in that room

''When the lights turn on and the soldiers intervene, they will control the situation''

That made sense when the door alarm sounded.

Now - Hyun-Ju said whispering getting off of me pulling my arm to leave me in sight of the soldiers, carefully I took some blood from the floor placing it on my clothes, Hyun-Ju barely managed to stain her hands and lay down next to me both pretending to be dead in that pitched battle.

''They're going to be busy stopping those who fight and they're not going to pay attention to the dead, they're going to start scanning the fallen to verify their identity then…we attack them''

Gi-Hun was the first to attack and when I felt the cold sensor of a guard on my neck to scan my pulse, it was my turn.

My legs pushed up, surrounding the guard's neck as well as his arms allowing Hyun-Ju to take the gun from his belt and shoot him in the head.

STAND BEHIND ME - She screamed pushing me quickly while shooting at the guards, one after another fell but out of nowhere others appeared

It was when I was able to reach one of the many fallen soldiers taking the gun from his belt aiming at one of the guards who was approaching from the bed shelves, hitting him in the chest making him fall to the floor

Another shot, towards another soldier, one who was approaching from behind us hitting him in the forehead.

What are you doing? - Hyun-Ju looked at me as she changed her weapon to a machine gun

Shut up - I pointed at her firing over her shoulder, shooting at the guard who was approaching from behind - shoot and stop looking at me

Yes ma'am - she loaded her weapon firing around, with military precision that made one soldier after another fall with one shot

''Attention, retreat'' the speaker talk

All the soldiers ran towards the door making it easier to target the shots, only a few were able to get out, one more stayed inside and surrendered dropping his weapons.

STOP FIRE! DO NOT SHOOT ANYMORE - Gi-Hun shouted making us lower our weapons looking around looking for someone who was still alive and was about to attack

Is… Is there something else you do that I don't know? - Hyun-Ju looked at me breathing heavily

I'll show you later - I smiled at her climbing onto the bed platform shooting at the camera, then at the other while Hyun-Ju shot at the rest until finishing off all the ones surrounding the room - are you okay? - I looked at Dae-Ho hiding behind an overturned bed covering his ears - Dae-Ho?…- I lightly touched his shoulder making him jump screaming and look at me scared

YN… are you… are you…- he looked at me upset smiling as he stood up

Are you okay?…- I looked at him curiously as I noticed how he rubbed his hands and quickly arranged his hair behind his ears

Yes I… everything… everything okay, how are you? - she smiled without stopping moving

Okay.. - i told him

YN..come with me - Hyun-Ju called me making my attention return to her while she went to where 246 organized the ammunition and weapons he found - is something wrong? - she looked at me curiously while I directed my gaze back to Dae-Ho

I don't know… didn't Dae-Ho say he was a marine? - I looked at her curiously while I left my weapon on the mattress with the rest

I don't know, listen to me we're going out and I want you to stay here understood? - she looked at me adjusting her weapon on her shoulder

No…but Hyun-Ju I want to go with you…

No, I'm not going to let you go out and it's not something to discuss, you're going to stay here understood? - her hand slowly and carefully arranged my hair behind my ear mockingly while i rolled my eyes annoyed- you're going to wait for me here and when I come back we'll leave ok?

And what happens if you don't come back?…- I looked at her crossing my arms annoyed of following her decisions - then you'll go from here and live your life understood? you'll be very happy and you'll never accept proposals from strangers again - she smiled at me bringing her hands to her neck opening her necklace and then placing it around my neck and tying it - as long as you wear this necklace I'll be with you and I already know that you're not afraid of anything, but even so I'll always take care of you okay?

Please come back okay? - I hugged her tightly, surrounding her body with my arms while she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and took a deep breath trying not to show fear

I'll be back, I promise - she smiled against my hair, barely kissing my forehead as she moved away from me a little and smiled - I think you can do something to help

What is it? - I looked at her, following her to where the rest of the men were holding a gun. She took a machine gun from the mattress and looked at me, offering it to me - do you want to learn how to use it?

Yes..- I smiled at her nodding as I took it and she adjusted the one hanging from her shoulder between her hands watching as some of the men had difficulty using it, including Dae-Ho

Hyun-Ju sounded so natural explaining how to use the weapon, as she removed the magazine and put it back in explaining how to take off the safety, reload and how to adjust the number of bullets to fire, everyone paying attention to her following her orders

Gi-Hun - Hyun-Ju called him nervously with some respect in her voice- Y/N will stay here, she…she will take care of whoever stays in this room

That's fine…thanks - Gi-Hun looked at me smiling a little nodding approving Hyun-Ju's decision

After that, everyone left taking the guard as a hostage, I could barely look at them turning quickly heading to where Geum-Ja and Yong-Sik were sitting next to them while taking a breath trying to stop my tears from falling

She will come back baby, trust me - Geum-Ja hugged me rubbing my back - don't worry

Y/N… you are… very brave - Yong-Sik looked at me nervously adjusting his glasses- I didn't know you could shoot

Thanks Yong-Sik - I smiled shyly as I felt everyone's gazes on me

Too brave, you are a woman after all and we will always be the strongest - Geum-Ja smiled at me looking around with the many gazes of the men on me- all of you should feel ashamed for not going out to defend your people, damn cowards, let me be an example of how a woman will take care of her asses

Mom… stop.. - Yong-Sik looked at her nervously sitting down while trying to calm his mother - why don' you... tell us Y/N how do you know how to shoot, you too Are you a soldier or something like Hyun-Ju?

No..I'm not, I have two older brothers and where I come from hunting is common, I learned to use a gun when I was a child and when my older brother enlisted in the army he…helped me perfect my shooting, he said it was just in case - I smiled shyly looking at the floor while holding the gun tightly

Ah..I see - he smiled curiously - I see why you are so brave it's…nice how you and Hyun-Ju found each other and both take care of each other, I wish I could find someone like that

Geum-Ja patted his back giving her just a few words when we all stayed silent listening to the shots in the distance, there was no pause, one shot after another came out of the weapons

Afterwards they stopped for a couple of minutes, everything was silent, not even the echo of the shots could be distinguished from the silence around making the pressure in the environment still felt Worse

You know…what's the best of all? - Yong-Sik looked at me breathing nervously and slowly - when Hyun-Ju and you have babies…and they ask you what their mother taught you, you'll tell them that she taught you to use a machine gun and not something boring at home.

Oh Yong-Sik - Geum-Ja sighed covering her face while I couldn't control a small laughter making Yong-Sik look at us disoriented not knowing if he had said something offensive but clearly he had made the atmosphere lighter

That would be nice Yong-Sik..- I smiled at him pushing him a little making him smile

Afterwards…again the shots, one after another without pause, not even giving the echo a chance to resonate in the place, each time, it diminished a little more, one weapon after another was silenced and in my mind, I only prayed that the weapon that kept firing was Hyun-Ju's

Calm down..-Geum-Ja took my hand - let's trust her

Magazine…magazine in the suits - Dae-Ho ran in nervously stumbling

Dae-Ho?…-I got up quickly going to him while running from one side to the other - Dae-Ho what are you doing?

I came for this..-he looked at me nervously showing me the magazines - the guards have ammunition in their suits I need all that they have

Okay, I'll help you - I dropped my weapon on my shoulder searching through all the soldiers' suits and leaving them on a bloody sweater - these are all I found, are they enough?

Yes…yes - he looked at me nodding nervously trying to leave quickly while hugging the ammunition in his arms

Dae-Ho..Hyun-Ju is okay? - I stopped him, watching as his face changed rapidly, his gaze no longer seemed innocent or nervous, his hands stopped shaking and tightened the green cloth that surrounded the ammunition and his lips pursed, making his jaw stand out

I don't know… she separated from the group..- he looked at me, leaving quickly, almost running, leaving me static in place

A couple of seconds later, he returned with a lost look dragging his feet without saying a single word

Dae-Ho?..- we all followed him with our eyes while he walked aimlessly - Dae-Ho where are the others?…where is Hyun-Ju?..- I reached him taking him by the arm making him look at me in silence- WHAT HAPPENED TO HYUN-JU- I held him moving him trying to get him to tell me something but he only looked at me in silence and shook his head getting out of my hand heading towards a dark place..

Fuck - I took the gun and a charger running towards the door feeling a tug on my arm that made me stop

where are you going? Hyun-Ju told you not to go out there..- Geum-Ja looked at me with wet eyes - don't go

She needs me and I'm not going to let her die like that, hide and if something happens don't come out of where you hid okay? - I took her hand for the last time before running away looking around

I went up and down one staircase after another following the sound of the shots pointing the gun forward hoping to find a soldier in a pink uniform and shoot him, but I only found their bodies lying around.

I continued my way until I turned right and found a purple, long and lonely hallway that led to a dark door, with no one in it, no bodies or armed people

I went up slowly, pointing forward looking around looking for cameras that could interfere with my alibi, but it seemed like everything was clean.

A couple of steps separated me from that door, I was so close when I felt cold on my head, something firm and icy that made me stop breathing while I froze

Drop the gun… - I could hear the distorted voice behind the mask, without thinking I slowly took out the gun while I slowly crouched down leaving it on the floor and raised my hands getting up again - walk… - this time the cold object moved from my head to the center of my back pushing me to go back the way I had taken before, again I returned to the room where all the other players were…

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

Hyun-Ju POV

DAE-HO…Dae-ho…where are you? - My eyes moved around the room looking for him while everyone looked at me and Geum-Ja pointed with her trembling hand to one side of the room between the darkness and piled up mattresses - Dae-Ho, did something happen? Are you okay?

His gaze was lost while his body trembled and he stammered incoherently

Dae-Ho… - I took him by the shoulders slowly making him jump scared covering his face shouting - Where is the ammunition?

He looked at me but didn't answer, he just trembled and stammered

Hyun-Ju…- I heard Geum-Ja's voice calling me while she took the chargers from between Dae-Ho's legs that were still on a bloody sweater - Hyun…Hyun-Ju…

Her hand took my arm, making me turn to look at her with wet eyes and trembling hands while she held on tightly to the fabric of my sweater, her voice seemed to say something but no words came out

Where is Y/N..? - I looked at her understanding her concern - where…where is she?

Geum-Ja just covered her face sobbing while Yong-Sik took her arms to hold her

She… left when Dae-Ho could no longer get out… she said she would go help you because you would need her…- Yong-Sik looked at me with his wet eyes

No… NO, WHY DID THEY LET HER GO - I looked at them feeling my heart jump uncontrollably while my trembling hands grabbed the magazines I could to run out to look for her

''Come in'' sounded on the speaker making the doors open at the same time letting in the soldiers who were shooting into the air making me stop and hiding between the beds so I could change the magazine and shoot them one by one to get out again

No..- A warm hand took my hand stopping me making me turn around looking at Geum-Ja while tears ran down her face - not like that… you must not die like that….

◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△◻○△

Alexa play a sad song cause the next episode is the last one..

With the next episode I will end this story, it will have two alternative endings which will be tagged at the end and everyone will decide which one you want to read, if you are team ANGST or team FLUFF you decide.

Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate you, your messages and comments make me feel very happy and complete.

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

Tag List!

@kuureii @sann1e @sunflowers-are-heaven @bridellashiper @etta-huracan @cupiid1 @alianacelinecolux @juliexz @duchcess @stvrdustalexx @styles-weasley @cupiid1 @babyzzlove @captainlunaxmen @lobotomyrealness @mariaxman @s-riddle16 @flowersbloom8787 @danisika @learninglinesintherainn @sl33pycaaat @mikuley @estelaig @swxggriffinsworld @anxietyspacestart

[pomegranatesarchive]

tempura and charles leclerc

tempura: "i'm sorry, babe, are those flashcards?"

view the menu here!

You had never met anyone's family before.

Sure, you had met your friend's family. But boyfriend's family? No, never.

You have heard all the excuses, "How about we wait a little longer", "They don't like to meet new people." and even, "I only let them meet people I'm serious about." That one hurt.

You thought Charles would be the same. So when you brought up the topic of meeting each other's parents. You had prepared yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Only for him to perk up and grin, "I've been meaning to ask you! Do you want to meet my family first? They've been dying to meet you!"

Wait what?

The surprise was clear on your face, and you quickly sputtered out, "No! I mean-Yeah? Yeah, yeah that's good."

That was a week ago. And you hadn't stopped stressing since.

You didnt know what to do, or how you were supposed to act? Probably posh right, yeah families like posh.

You just had to figure out what posh was.

Two days before the dreaded meeting, you came up with a wonderful solution. Studying.

What do people do when they want to feel prepared? Study.

You quickly ran off to the store and picked up a pack of one hundred flash cards. Then you got to work.

You learned everything you could possibly learn about The Leclerc family. Well, everything you could find online. Which was surprisingly a lot.

It was t-minus thirty minutes until the meeting. You were sitting on the corner of your bed, quickly going over everything you've memorized.

"Arthor's twenty-four.." you mumbled to yourself, "Born in the year 2000, and his birthday is..." you paused, anxiously fidgeting with your fingers. "Shit!" you cursed, reaching under your pillow and pulling out your stack of flashcards. Not noticing Chalres who had just walked into your room.

"October 14!" You shook your head, pulling up the flashcard, "Arthur Leclerc, born October 14, 2000."

You sighed, turning around, jumping at the sight of Charles standing by the doorway, surprise clear on his face. You quickly hid the stack of flashcards behind your back.

Charles walked up to you, his lips pursed, "I'm sorry, babe, are those flashcards?"

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, before squeaking out, "No?"

Charles mouth slowly turned up into a smile, “I can see you hiding them.”

You eyed him, leaning back and shaking your head, he wrapped his arms around you in lighting speed, forcing the cards of your hands.

He switched through them as you cringed into yourself, this was it, he was going to call you a weirdo and break up with you.

You watched him anxiously, not noticing the small smile on his face, “This is…a-lot.” he managed.

You jumped to your defense, “I’m not a stalker i swear! I just..like to be prepared, and this is all stuff you can find online, so it’s not like I…dug deep.”

Just then you noticed the smile on his face, “Your not mad?” you whispered.

Charles shook his head, throwing the flash cards on your bed, “No not mad. This is really cute.”

“Seriously?” you squeaked.

“Don’t get me wrong…this is weird.” He laughed, “But at least you care right?”

“I do care!” you cut him off, “I really do!”

Charles smiled softly, interlining his fingers with you, “Good. It makes it less creepy.”

You two smiled at each other, before making your way out of the bedroom.

“Can we not tell people about this?” you mumbled offhandedly.

Charles laughed, “No way. This will be in my wedding vows.”

[cupid-grl]

18+ mdni.

thinkin bout perv!könig who can’t help but feel disgusted with himself over the fact that he’s lusting over his friends daughter. she’s barely old enough to legally drink, and he was almost old enough to consider retirement.

he thought his growing desire couldn’t get any more serious, but oh he was so wrong.

whenever visiting your dad, he’d make sure to avoid all eye contact with you and greet you with a quick mumbled hello, austrian accent running thick in his voice. and then there’s you, so cheeky and welcoming. so eager to meet new people, so hospitable as the older man over a foot taller than you is barely able to meet your gaze.

and imagine how stiff he is in more places than one, when he feels your arms barely managing to wrap around his big muscular torso. you’re so touchy when excited, you can’t help it. he begs to any god that you can’t feel the growing tent beneath his cargo jeans when his eyes catch your pretty boobs squeezed against his chest. darkened eyes travel down the valley of your tits, whilst his face flushes red and he’s all hot and bothered. but all he can do is pat the small of your back as a way to reciprocate your affection, afraid of groping you while his friend is in the same room.

the cheeky smile you give him with those pretty doe eyes looking up into his own, trying to make out his features beneath the handmade veil draped across his head. but you can’t, though it doesn’t brother you. and you don’t dare ask him to lift it up, the last thing you’d wanna do is scare off your dads new friend.

and he’s so glad you can’t see the red, sweaty mess he is beneath it.

you’re just so caring, so inviting whenever you ask him to come into your room. so naïve and innocent when you sit him down on your bed and show off anything and everything in your room. it’s so pink, so pretty, so you. he says nothing as you show off the new skimpy dresses you bought yourself, thinking nothing of it when he asks if you can show him off.

let me see if it fits, might have to return it if not. just to be sure, he says.

and of course, you’re so excited and think he’s the smartest most caring man alive.

you change out of your regular clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and bra as his eyes gawk at the sight of your exposed body. he can’t take his eyes off your pretty tits when you bend over, giving him a clear view of what they’d look like dangling above him. can’t keep his eyes off your ass as you wiggle your way through the variety of dresses you try on.

and when you ask for his help taking the dress off? oh he’s quick to stand up and unzip it, taking his time when it reaches just below your ass. his fingertips graze down the middle of your ass, accidentally brushing against your clothed cunt. he apologises right after, and you forgive him right away. silly könig and his slippery fingers! accidents happen, you remind him.

if it’s a movie night and your dads too busy to watch with you, don’t worry, because könig is quick to sit next to you on the couch.

can i watch with you, liebling?

and who are you to say no? you allow him to cuddle you from behind as you two try and lay on the small furniture. but he’s so big and muscular, you both struggle to fit so he suggests you lay on top of him. könig always comes up with a solution to everything, always so helpful with you.

you don’t question when he pulls you flush to his chest, telling you it’s to prevent you from leaning over the edge. your sweet, caring könig was only ever looking out for you.

and you don’t question it when his hand moves from the curve of your waist, down to the waistline of your shorts. where his fingers tug beneath the fabric, tracing alongside the hem of your underwear.

or when his hand manages to accidentally slip past your underwear, strong fingers finding their way to your already hardened clit, middle finger running down your soaked slit to gather lube up both his fingers. you don’t question it when könig begins circling your clit with his middle and index finger, his movements so soft and slow. you can’t help but quietly whimper at the friction, hips rocking against his fingers while he wraps his free hand over your mouth, gripping onto the sides of your face. poor perv!könig jus wants to feel how soft your clit is, to feel the warmth of your slick against his cold fingers. jus wants to feel all of you.

häschen, he whispers against the crook of your neck, followed by light kisses on your neck.

his throbbing bulge pressed against the plush skin of your clothed ass, hips bucking against the softness for any sort of relief. your eyes widen, and you can’t help but imagine how much better this would feel. he feels so big from behind, you’re almost scared of actually seeing it.

all you can do is cry out into the palm of his hands when his speed picks up and he sticks his two digits inside your aching cunt. the coils in your stomach begin burning and you can feel your arousal travel down to your core. you clench around his big fingers, squirting all over his hand and your leg, arousal dripping onto the couch.

the movie had finished by the time you did, credits rolling down the screen as you’re trying to catch your breath, while könig brings his glistening fingers up to his mouth and licks at your juices. he removes his fingers from his mouth with a pop, planting a kiss on your ear.

can’t wait for more of you he whispers as you both stand up, fixing yourselves as your dad walks in the living room, seemingly unaware of how your hair was messy and how the stitching of your shorts didn’t align right with your body.

könig excuses himself, announcing to your dad that he’ll be going now. your lips form into a pout, brows furrowing as the two men give eachother a side hug goodbye. könig turns back to look at you, and from the crinkle of the skin around his eyes, you can tell he was smiling at you.

you return it, and as he turns to leave, he speaks up one more time.

i will see you next week. and you know it was meant for you. you know he was meant for you.

a perv!könig who can’t wait for the next time he sees you.