#if you think you have no one. i promise that you do. go watch the sunrise or people watch or go to a park and read a book
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charmedimsure · 2 days ago
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The Three of Us: After the Games
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader
summary: Dae-ho makes good on his promise
word count: 2.8k
warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, babies
A/N: for the sake of the story, they got out after the vote after the Mingle game. i had so much fun writing this, dae-ho is so girl-dad coded. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
part 1: The Three of Us
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"Do we have everything we need? Am I forgetting something?"
You laugh as you watch the man run around the living room of your apartment. "Dae-ho, I'm not even in labor yet."
"I want to be prepared!"
After you had gotten out of the games, you and Dae-ho were delighted to find out that you lived not far away from each other. You were able to use the money you had gotten from the games to pay off your debts, and Gi-hun had offered to help you pay for everything until the baby is born and you're both able to work again (he didn't know it yet, but he had earned himself the title of godfather for that).
Dae-ho came over to your apartment every day for the past month and a half, making sure everything is ready for when the baby comes and keeping you from exerting yourself too much. You're sure he's spent more time at your apartment than at his.
Dae-ho had helped more than you could possibly thank him for. He and Jung-bae had built the crib for your baby, then broke it by "testing it out", then built a new one (why they thought it was a good idea for a full-grown man to get into a baby's crib, you have no idea).
You use the arm of the couch to help you stand up, waddling over to Dae-ho and taking his hands in yours. "Dae-ho, I don't think it's possible that you're forgetting anything," you chuckle. He opens his mouth to argue but you shush him, pulling him into a hug. "The only thing that matters is that you're with me when this baby comes."
He sighs, hugging you back. "I'm just so worried, I want to make sure everything goes right."
"I know," you rub his back. "But you need to calm down a bit. I think you're more worried about this than I am." You pull back to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "You know I have to push this thing out of me, right?"
He chuckles at the look on your face and pulls you to him, placing a gentle kiss on your lips and cradling you to his chest.
"I just need to make sure I didn't forget-"
"Dae-ho!"
<>
You're sitting on your couch watching TV with Dae-ho when you feel yourself sitting in something wet.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," you curse. This isn't the first time you've pissed yourself while pregnant, and although Dae-ho keeps assuring you that it's perfectly normal (he's seen it happen with his sisters), it doesn't make you feel any less disgusting.
Dae-ho helps you stand up, ready to take you to the bathroom when you stop. He looks to see you staring at the large wet patch on the couch.
"What's wrong?" he asks you.
You slowly look up at him with wide eyes. "I think my water broke."
Dae-ho's eyes grow comically wide. "Holy shit, it's happening."
You nod. "It's happening."
He helps you sit back down on the couch before sprinting into your bedroom. He comes out with your hospital bag slung over his shoulder, fully packed and ready to go. "I'm gonna bring the car around, I'll be right back."
You nod, breathing through another bought of pain that you now realize is a contraction. You had been feeling it for a while now, but just thought it was normal pregnancy pain.
Dae-ho comes bursting back into your apartment, nearly tripping over your rug as he comes over to help you stand.
"Okay, the car is out front, I'm probably parked illegally, so we should hurry," he says, rushing his words.
You try to hide your amused smile. Dae-ho is the perfect distraction from your contractions.
"Dae-ho, lock the door, please," you say when you're in the hallway.
He nods, getting the keys out of his pocket and dropping them on the floor. You chuckle as he yelps, scrambling to pick them up and fit the key in the lock. Once he's done he turns to you. "Stop laughing at me!"
You laugh harder at his expression. "I'm sorry, I can't help it."
His face softens as he hears your laugh, a smile forming on his lips. He pulls you close, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Let's go have this baby."
He leads you to the elevator, holding your hand as you descend to the first floor. Once you step outside you burst out laughing.
"Dae-ho, you're parked on the sidewalk!"
"I was panicking, okay!"
<>
"Dae-ho," you cry, "I don't think I can do this."
He squeezes your hand, not complaining despite the fact that you're nearly breaking his hand from how hard you're holding on to it. "Are you kidding? You flipped that ddakji on your first try with guns pointed at you. You were one of the first to finish red light, green light. You ran in Mingle despite being nearly seven months pregnant. This is nothing compared to all of that."
He brings his other hand up to brush some hair out of your face. "You are the strongest person I know. Just one more big push and it's done. You can do this."
"Dae-ho," you half scream, looking at him. "I love you."
He kisses your hand. "I love you too. So much. Now push."
You do as he says, screaming as you feel pain like you've never felt before. Until it's over, and the only sounds in the room are your panting and the crying of a baby.
"You did it," Dae-ho says in awe as he watches the doctors clean your baby.
"Congratulations," one of the doctors says to you with a smile as she holds your baby. "It's a girl."
She hands you your daughter and you feel yourself start to cry as you look down at the little baby in your arms.
Dae-ho sits on the bed, looking at the baby. "She's so beautiful."
You scootch over a bit in bed to make room for him to lay down next to you. After a long time of laying together in peaceful silence, you look at him with a tired smile. "Thank you for being here."
He smiles at you. "I wouldn't have missed the birth of your child for anything."
You take his hand, guiding it to cradle your daughter's head. "The birth of our child."
Tears form in his eyes as he smiles down at you, kissing your head. "I love you more than anything." He kisses your daughter's head as well. "Both of you."
A knock on the door gets your attention. "Let me in! I want to see the baby!" Jung-bae's voice yells into the room.
You look up at Dae-ho, confused. "She's been alive for like an hour, how is he here already?"
Dae-ho looks down at you a bit sheepishly. "I might have texted him earlier."
Another loud knock on the door is heard. "Let me in, I have balloons!"
<>
You groan as you wake up, a loud, shrill cry ringing throughout your apartment. This is the second time tonight that your daughter has woken up.
With a sigh, you dramatically throw the covers off of you, too tired to care how much of a mess you're making.
A hand holds your shoulder, and you turn your head to see Dae-ho, a yawn coming from him as he stretches his muscles. "I got it, go back to sleep."
You shake your head, a yawn of your own escaping your mouth. "No, you got the last one, it's my turn." You move to stand up, but Dae-ho tightens his grip on your shoulder, effectively keeping you in place.
"You carried her around for nine months and birthed her," Dae-ho says. "I got this."
You give the man next to you a sleepy smile. Normally you'd argue with him that it was only fair that you checked on her, but right now your bed is so comfortable and you haven't had a full night's sleep in months.
You mumble a thank you, falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers over you. Dae-ho laughs to himself when he sees that you've immediately fallen back asleep.
He walks to your daughter's room, picking her up from her crib and bouncing her. "Come one, Munchkin, we gotta let your mommy sleep."
As if she understands him, she quiets down, falling asleep with her head on his shoulder.
<>
"Hello! We're home!" Dae-ho announces as you walk through the door of your new home.
You smile as your daughter rounds the corner, crawling towards you as fast as her little arms and legs will let her go.
"Thank you so much for watching her, Geum-ja," you say to the woman walking behind your daughter, who has taken on the role of unofficial grandmother.
"Thank you for letting me watch her!" the woman smiles. "Yong-sik isn't having children any time soon, so this may be my only chance."
"Mom, stop," the mentioned man steps into view. You laugh as they bicker, Geum-ja lightly hitting her son.
You watch as Dae-ho crouches on the floor, opening his arms wide as your daughter crawls toward him. She takes her hands off the ground and you gasp, getting the attention of Geum-ja and Yong-sik. You watch in amazement as your daughter takes three steps before falling right into your boyfriend's arms.
Dae-ho lifts her up, a giant smile on his face. "That was amazing, Munchkin!"
You rub her back, praising her as Dae-ho kisses her cheek. Geum-ja and Yong-sik have stopped their bickering, both of them clapping for your daughter's accomplishment.
A thought comes into your head and you groan, resting your forehead on Dae-ho's shoulder.
"What?" he asks.
"She's gonna be a little menace now, isn't she?"
Dae-ho laughs, bringing one of his arms around your shoulders and kissing your forehead.
<>
"What is happening here?"
You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips, a smile on your face.
"We're having a princess tea party," Dae-ho says. He points to the princess dress on your daughter, as well as the princess dress on himself, which is close to tearing in half. "Obviously." He picks up the toy tea kettle, pouring some imaginary tea into your daughter's cup before facing you. "Would you like some?"
This is not what you were expecting to see after work, but you can't think of a better scene to come home to.
"I would love some." You sit on the floor, picking up a teacup and holding it out for Dae-ho to pour "tea" into.
Your daughter holds her cup in front of her as well, looking at the man between you. "Dada!"
Both you and Dae-ho freeze. You watch with a smile as he looks down at your daughter, his entire face lighting up and tears welling in his eyes.
You put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it happily. You've gotten a few "mama"s from your daughter before, but Dae-ho has never gotten a "dada" until now.
Dae-ho pours more imaginary tea into her cup, leaning down afterwards to give her a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Munchkin."
<>
"Mama!"
You turn to see your daughter tottling towards you, a big smile on her face.
"Hi sweetie," you smile, crouching down to her height.
She grabs onto your finger, tugging on it to try and get you to follow her. You chuckle, allowing her to lead you out of the room, hunched over so she can still hold your finger.
You follow her to the backyard, furrowing your brows when you see that the back door is open. Stepping outside and closing it behind you, you look forward and freeze.
Your daughter runs over to Dae-ho, who's in the middle of your yard on one knee, a ring in his hand.
You bring your hand up to your mouth in shock, tears welling in your eyes.
"Two and a half years ago, I was in the worst place of my life. But it was when I was there that I met you," Dae-ho smiles. "You've changed my life in so many ways, brought me more happiness than I ever thought I could have. I love you and our Munchkin more than anything in the world. You've given me the family I've always wanted, but I think it's time we become an official family. Will you marry me?"
You nod your head, tears spilling over onto your cheeks.
Dae-ho stands and pulls you into a kiss, slipping the ring on your finger. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you so much. My beautiful fiancée."
You feel a tug on your leg and look down to see your daughter smiling up at you. Dae-ho crouches down, scooping her up into his arms and standing, bringing you into a hug. "How would you like to be the flower girl, Munchkin?"
<>
"You see, I told you she'd be happy to see you! You need to have more faith in yourself, Gi-hun," you say into the phone as you unlock your front door. The man had arrived in America the previous day, finally visiting his daughter after so many years.
You step inside your house, locking the door behind you and putting your keys on one of the hooks on the wall. As you enter the living room, you stop when you see what is happening on your couch.
"Gi-hun, I have to go, I'll call you later," you smile, hanging up the phone. You open your camera app, taking a picture of the perfect scene in front of you. The TV is turned on to one of your daughter's favorite movies. Your daughter, however, is passed out on the chest your husband, who is also fast asleep.
After you've taken a sufficient amount of photos, you gently shake Dae-ho awake. He blinks his eyes open, smiling tiredly when he sees you.
"Hi, beautiful," he says.
You chuckle at the sleep in his voice. "Hi. I see you had quite a tiring day today."
Dae-ho nods, rubbing his eyes awake. "We played pirates in the backyard, then we had a movie marathon. It was a very eventful day."
You smile, putting your hand on your daughter's back to lightly shake her awake.
She looks at you with a smile. "Hi mommy."
"Hi, sweetie. It's time to go to bed."
She frowns. "Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?"
You roll your eyes playfully. "But sweetie, you just got your new big girl bed. Don't you want to sleep there?"
She shakes her head. "I want to stay with you and daddy."
You look at Dae-ho, chuckling when you see that he's also silently begging you to let her stay with you.
"Fine, but just for tonight," you give in, making both your daughter and your husband smile. You pick her up, sitting her on your hip. "It's not fair when you team up against me, you're both too cute."
Dae-ho stands from the couch, kissing the side of your head. "Now you know what it's like trying to argue with you."
<>
You hand your daughter the stick in your hand with a smile. "Go bring this to daddy."
With a nod, she runs off to find Dae-ho. You follow behind her, peeking your head around the corner when she goes into the kitchen where your husband is making dinner.
"Daddy!" she yells and you can hear the smile in her voice.
Dae-ho turns to face the young girl, a big smile on his face. "Hey, Munchkin." He scoops her into his arms, placing a kiss on her cheek.
Your daughter holds the stick out for Dae-ho. "For you, daddy."
You watch as he thanks her and looks at the stick. You feel your smile grow as he realizes what his daughter just handed him. He looks up, noticing you by the door.
"Is this real?"
"As real as it can possibly be," you say.
He sits your daughter down onto the counter, rushing over to pick you up in his arms, making you laugh. He twirls you around before putting you down and kissing you with all the love he feels in this moment.
"I love you so much," he says, his forehead against yours. He looks over to your daughter on the counter. "I love both of you." He then looks back down at you, gently putting his hand over your stomach. "All of you."
~
Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5 @dragons-h0ard @silas-222 @putrescentpoet
lmk if you want to be added to the taglist (specify all squid game or just dae-ho pls)
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fushiguho · 3 days ago
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✰ finally domming toji & he’s a brat about it… at first!
cw fem! reader, dom! reader, light bondage, premature orgasm, a little cum feeding :/
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“you’re a mean little thing.” toji grouses between little pants of incredulity as you push him in his chest, forcing his bare back against the silken sheets. “c’monnn, this isn’t you. what happened to my sweet girl?”
“jesus, do you ever stop talking?” you bite, throwing a leg over his burly hips, straddling him. “should’ve gagged you.”
he sucks his teeth, scoffing. “doll, i don’t think that’s necessary.”
you huff an agitated breath. “then shut up. you promised to let me have this.”
tonight, your boyfriend has finally, finally given you the chance to call the shots… or try to, rather. however, he’s having a hard time letting go, relinquishing his inborn desire to assume power. it’s rare to see him like this, beneath you. still, he’s grasping at straws, hanging on to any fleeting shred of power that he can muster as you begin to tie his wrists.
nervously, you fumble with the thick piece of rope that you hold in your hands. a sleazy little grin kisses his beautifully scarred lips. toji almost can’t help but to laugh as you attempt to bind his wrists to the wooden headboard. something between a wince of pain and a groan of pleasure leaves him as you pull through the final loop, finishing your double column tie.
he groans. “a little tighter, yeah?” it’s hardly a joke, but he pulls at his restraints roughly, wrists aching.
you pout, dropping your head to the right in feigned concern and you can hear the breath that catches in his throat. toji, far too stubborn to admit, loves you like this, bad. it took a lot to get here—days of begging, bribery, orgasms. he’d only be kidding himself if he said this isn’t turning him into such a… whore. after all, how could he say no to his pretty girl?
something warm and dangerous twitches against your inner thigh. the sweet tune you hum as you trail an idle finger down, down, down his heaving chest makes his hips rut beneath you, a fruitless attempt at finding release. a guttural sound is parting his lips when you take one of his hardening nipples between your thumb and index.
“you know, i could get out if i wanted.” it’s breathless, a wicked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “you did a good job…” he pauses, gaze flickering up to observe his bounded wrists before tugging at his restraints, “but this won’t hold me, pretty girl.”
you scoot down a bit, revealing the pretty, achy bulge that rests so angrily between his strapping thighs. briefly, his eyes meet yours, the subtle furrow in his brows making your core tighten with need. a slow, teasing finger skims the stubble beneath his waistband. his stomach caves, sinking in his ever growing arousal.
“you know, maybe i should gag you.” you finally reply after some thought. the notion lingers on your conscious as you drop your head, kissing him through his underwear. “you’re insufferable when you’re not in charge.”
toji can’t help the near feral buck of his hips, an ensuing growl dragging from his mouth. he can feel himself losing his fucking mind as you drag a warm palm over his clothed cock. a violent shudder rattles his body, an unintentional gasp pulling his jaw slack.
“baby, it h-hurts… c’mon now, you’re being mean.”
“take your cock out then.” you challenge, backing away slightly to watch as he struggles. “show me you what it is you want.”
scoffing, he rolls his eyes, looking like the grumpiest of bears as he ruts his hips helplessly, desperately attempting to wriggle out of his underwear with his hands tied above his head. you smile, a pretty little giggle leaving your lips. watching toji struggle to find relief makes a warm, electrifying heat pool between your thighs. how the fuck could he ever deny you of this?
“fuuuck! i can’t!” it’s merely a high-pitched whine as he huffs frustrated little breaths through his flaring nostrils. “help me! you tied me t-too tight, i can’t do it.” he’s whimpering now, chest heaving in time with the mindless jerk of his hips. “baby, i need you to take it out for me. p-please okay?”
never. you have never seen him like this and you’re not sure how there was a time that existed before. a raw moan of relief is belting from his lungs when you finally slip a hand down his tightening briefs. your fingers brush over the twitching length of his erection, collecting the syrupy precum that adorns the head of his weeping cock.
with your other hand, you’re tugging his underwear down and his head is deliriously nodding back to rest against his pillow. your fist wraps around the base of his cock, squeeeezing. the messy tip drools, rivulets of pretty, pearlescent arousal drip, drip, dripping down his throbbing shaft.
“god, j-just put it in your mouth. don’t be like that… why are you being liked this, huh?” instinctively he tugs at his bindings, attempting to reach out for you but finds that he can’t.
he is so fucking desperate for it, yet he can hardly stomach the thought that it’s him begging like a slut to feel your tongue on the head of his cock. god and he’s just pitifully unaware of how he’s fully whining—the usual bass of his tone lost in the pathetic quaver of his crackling voice, reaching an octave so high that it shocks even you.
still, you shake your head, a bewitching smile gracing your lips. instead, you’re shifting lower, lolling out your tongue as you peer at him through batting lashes. toji’s breath hitches as you drool down the length of his cock. a longggg string of saliva tethers your bottom lip to his cock head as you start to stroke him from the base.
toji’s mouth gapes, yet nothing of coherence is uttered. he babbles mindlessly, those dark, drunken eyes stupidly following the hand that works at his cock, utterly enthralled by the subtle twist of your wrist as you near the weeping head. he curses to himself, needy hips still attempting to buck underneath your weight.
with your legs on either side of his body, you keep him grounded as you pump up and down his angry shaft. your warm, wet lips are trailing along his tightening abdomen. the poor boy writhes beneath your touch, his body reacting in a way you didn’t know was possible—his spine bows, hips bucking almost carnally as his stomach caves, arousal swirling deeep in his core.
“please.” it’s merely a breath as you nip the soft skin behind the shell his ear, soothingly dragging your tongue along the forming bruise. “will you kiss me at least?”
you peck the corner of his gaped mouth once, pulling away before he can even register your fleeting lips. toji turns his head, chasing your teasing lips and you smile, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock which pulls the filthiest little groan from him.
he pouts, thick brows furrowing slightly. “you’re being mean.”
“oh, you poor babyyy.” his cock jerks against the palm of your hand at your sweet, condescending tone. “maybe i should keep you like this forever, hm? actually think i prefer this.”
“mmh—why? you like torturin’ me?”
you nod, bringing a hand up to his pretty, contorting face. he can hardly help the subconscious part of his mouth as you tap your fingers against his bottom lip. like an obedient boy, he’s swallowing around the digits with a satisfactory gurgle of unwitting pleasure. curiously, your fingers creep farther down his throat, the tips brushing the very back of his wet tongue.
saliva drips from the corners of his mouth and he gags once, his sable, lust-ridden eyes welling with thick tears. the smile that mars your face is sick, but it’s pulling a loud moan from the depths of his chest. another helpless sound leaves him when your hand tightens around his weeping cock.
“god, i’m so close.” toji gasps around the digits in his mouth, peering down at his furious cock and your jerking hand. his jaw is falling slack, head dizzily slumping to one side. “f… fuck, it feels so good—your hand feels s’gooood. g-gonna cum, can’t h-help myself. you are just sooo pretty like this, baby.”
“yeah? you gonna cum for me already?” the coy tilt of your head makes his stomach sink. a victorious smile cracks along your face. “hardly touched you.”
toji nods dumbly, breath hitching. his hips stutter pathetically, rocking against the agonizing jerk of your fist. the most beautiful sound leaves him, something like a whimpering gasp, his heaving breaths shuddered and choked. it’s loud and shameless and like nothing you’ve ever heard. several, long ropes of pearly white cum follows, coating the expanse of his chest and abdomen like it was meant to.
it’s perfect. everything about this image is perfect. toji looks so pretty drenched and heaving in his own arousal. you watch as his warm, sticky seed trickles down his perspiring skin. you almost can’t help the curious fingers that are dragging along his pectorals, collecting the mess.
“don’t.” is all he mutters as you creep the cum-soaked digits toward his lips.
you smile sweetly. “open.”
and with a dramatic roll of his eyes, he does. he takes your fingers into his warm mouth with a deep, guttural groan, sucking on them until nothing remains. a triumphant smile graces your lips as you push them further, forcing a proper gag from the depths of his throat.
“okay! okay, you’re doing too much, doll… untie me now.” he grouses, drool pooling against his tongue.
you hum in contemplation, tracing mindless shapes against his skin. “and if i don’t?”
“if you don’t and i get out on my own,” he pauses, lifting his head slightly to take in this beautiful sketch of you before smiling something sinister. “you’re gonna fucking regret it.”
it’s a threat and you know it is, so why does it make your core tighten with a need you’ve never known? why does it make your mind race at the possibility of punishment? discipline? it’s merely a warning, yet your cunt aches at the thought of him escaping, it makes your body burn with a fire the begs to be doused and it’s toji who must do it, so you challenge him.
“then why don’t you get out and make me regret it.”
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starkeysbabygirl · 3 days ago
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⋆˚࿔ make you feel 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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𝜗𝜚 bsfbro!rafe x virgin!reader
𝜗𝜚 you have filthy thoughts about your best friends brotherX what happens when you can’t help yourself one night and get caught?
𝜗𝜚 18+ MDNI! unprotected piv sex, virgin!reader, virginity loss, blood mentioned, possessive!rafe, praise, dirty talk, daddy kink, hint at female masturbation
𝜗𝜚 idk how i feel about this one but i finished it and might as well share it, if there are any grammar errors or anything else i’m sorry i tried my best didn’t exactly edit🫣😂
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sarah was your best friend ever since you could remember. moving away a couple years ago was probably one of the worst things that could have happened but the two of you promised to always see each other no matter what, every summer, so here you were staying with the cameron’s for the next few months. the cameron’s always welcomed you with open arms. the only one who seemed to have a problem was sarah’s older brother, rafe fucking cameron.
rafe cameron made your high school years a living hell. he scared off any boy who even thought about you in any way which is why you were still a virgin still, even at the age of twenty three, you were never able to get a boyfriend. you blew it off as rafe doing what your brother cade would have done if he were still around. rafe and cade were best friends but cade left a few years ago for college, a few states away. little did you know, it had nothing to do with cade and all to do with rafe and his bottled up feelings he never got over.
although rafe had always been beyond infuriating you couldn’t deny he was very nice on the eyes. he was one of the best looking guys on this island. this time around, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it just kept getting worse and worse the more rafe came into contact with you.
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you couldn’t help yourself as thoughts of rafe began to cloud your mind with all the ways you would want him to take you and have his way with you. your hands were down your sleep shorts before you could stop yourself. you’ve done this countless times before but never with filthy thoughts of rafe.
you were already wet when you start circling your clit, a low moan escaping your lips. you were lost in the moment when all of a sudden the door slowly creaks open and you quickly slip your hand out of your shorts trying to wipe any evidence off of your hands. you look towards the door surprised to see your best friends brother.
“rafe!? what the hell?”
“whoa y/n relax! stop looking so guilty. you fucking hiding some guy in here or somethin’?” he laughs but suddenly looks concerned as if you did have a man hiding somewhere in this room.
“no, i don’t know what you’re talking about rafe. of course not. get out.”
“what were you doing then y/n? hmmm?” rafe gets closer to the bed and sniffs the air making you nervous just watching him. you start to wonder how the hell he would know what you were up to just by smelling the air, it wasn’t possible.
“nothing, and it’d be none of your business if i was seeing anyone anyways.”
rafe grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his nose and inhales. a smirk forms on his face. “tsk tsk, naughty girl. nothing, huh?” he chuckles and shakes his head.
“what are you doing?! rafe what the fuck who does that?!” you whisper yell as you yank your hand away from him. “go back to your room, what are you even doing coming in here without knocking? sarah could have seen you or wheezie!”
“if you needed help going to sleep you could have just told me princess.” his hand grazes your cheek and you immediately blush, all megative thoughts out the window. rafe crawls on top of you making you lose all brain function. he slides his hands down the covers and toys with the bottom of your shorts. the tension in the air thick as it could ever be.
“r-rafe…fuck it, oh my god. touch me.” you beg, so desperate for his touch and more. it takes rafe no time pulling your shorts and panties down your legs and throws them on the floor. he makes his way down, giving a light tap to your legs.
“spread those legs, let me see.” rafe demands and you obey, spreading your legs putting your pussy on display. “fuuuuck y/n, this pussy is perfect, so fucking pretty and made for me.” rafe groans.
the dirty words coming from rafe’s mouth make your pussy throb with need. you knew you might regret it later but you didn’t care because in this moment you knew you were about to lose your virginity to rafe cameron.
“fuck me rafe, fuck me please? please i want you.” you spread your legs even more inviting rafe to have his way with you.
“you have no idea what this means y/n. once i fuck you, you’re mine. you understand?” he says with a stern voice. his breath hot in your ear. you nod. rafe pulls off his shirt in one swift move then starts to unbuckle to his belt and slides it off.
“words baby.”
“i understand rafe. i just…i need you, so horny i need to cum right now.” you whimper. rafe slides down to the foot of the bed and gets up. he pulls you down with him, turning you around so that you are bent over, chest on the bed and feet on the ground. he wraps his belt around your wrist tying your hands together behind your back.
“you gonna be a good girl for daddy? i’ll make your first time worth it princess don’t you worry. you might cry but i’ll lick your tears away for you.” rafe pulls his pants and boxers off, his hard cock springing out and leaking precum onto the ground. you try to look behind you seeing his hard length throbbing with the need to release. you were completely in shock at his size but also intrigued.
“yes daddy, m’going to be your good girl, and only yours.” you moan. rafe bends down a little to line up his cock to your pussy and rubs his tip up and down your soaking wet slit and eases his way in carefully. “ooooh f-fuuuuuck! ahhhh rafe! oh my god.” you cry out, his big cock slowly stretching you out causing you pain at first then pleasure.
“that’s my girl. you’re doing so well f’me my pretty girl. fuck this pussy feels s’good, squeezing my cock so fucking tight.” rafe grunts as he starts to pick up his pace. he grabs your waist and rams in and out of your cunt.
“ahh! shiiiit, feels s’good daddy, you’re going to make me cum, just like that! please, harder!” you scream. rafe shoves your face into the bed with one hand and slaps your ass with the other. his thrusts start to get fast and sloppy.
“you gonna cum with me princess? m’not going to last any longer, your pussy is too fucking tight, going to blow my load inside of you.” rafe’s low groans fill the room along with your muffled screams. just as rafe could feel his balls start to tighten he lifts your head from the bed and pulls it back at a weird angle so you were looking into his eyes.
“m’gonna cum rafe, i can’t hold it anymore, i’m cumming!” you scream.
“i’m right there with your princess! oh shit, fuck i’m fucking cumming god damn!” rafe grunts and pushes you into the bed as he falls onto you as his cock pulses, shooting rope after rope of cum deep inside your pussy and filling you up to the brim. he slowly pulls out and the mix of blood, your juices and his cum make a mess on the floor. you lift your head and he swiftly unties your wrists.
“wow that was…um, well..just how i imagined it would be with you, rafe cameron.” you chuckle and rafe has a cocky smirk on his face.
“yeah? well, don’t forget what i said earlier baby, you’re mine now and this was just the beginning.” rafe reminds you.
he grabs a towel from the bathroom and cleans you then himself up before cleaning the evidence on the floor. after everything gets cleaned up rafe puts his clothes back on then watches as you dress.
“i’d be yours anyday. who would have thought?” you murmur and yawn starting to feel the exhaustion set in.
“you were always going to be mine y/n. you just didn’t know it, but i did. i always knew.” rafe steps towards you and grips you by the chin, lifting your head up so you were staring into his eyes. he leans down and kisses you. you slightly pull back.
“good night rafe.” then you kiss him back and walk towards the door about to open it for him figuring he would want to head back to his own room.
“whoa. hold it. i’m not going anywhere princess, i’m staying right here with you now lets get into bed.” he grabs your hand and walks you back to your bed.
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tagging a few moots: @cameronsprincess @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @cameronwillow
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smallfisheyes · 3 days ago
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one suggestive paragraph hehe.
nanami kento who just doesn’t love you.
he tries. really. you are so easy to love, but he just can’t seem to love you more than admiration; more than the god-awful belittling role of a friend.
you are kind. he has seen you pick children from rubble. you had single-handedly halted an impeding panic attack that consumed the fushiguro boy. you pay out of pocket so that the children can do normal student activities: arts and crafts, team building activities, classroom and party decorations. he’s watched you be the most beautiful human that he has had the privilege of watching, defending innocents with, laughing with, but for some reason, he just can’t love you.
nanami kento who makes you cry because he says he loves you. trust him, he loves you so much, but as a friend. you had confessed your love for him. he broke your heart.
it was in the parking lot of your favourite post-mission meeting spot: the convenience store. (it’s family-owned, kento had said to you on your first visit as he gently took you by the elbow. it was his retreat. it would be yours too. you cradled the side of your face, your one eye badly bruised and rapidly swelling. you’ll like it here, he insisted. i promise).
the son was at cash that dark morning. kento would get the egg sandwich and coffee, you a banana milk and noodles.
“i’m on a mission to try every flavour,” you had declared one night, feet kicking and humming into your first dinner.
you had shrimp-flavoured noodles that fateful early morning. it was around 2:00 a.m., two second-grade curses with paired techniques. the following day, nanami turned down the offer of a sushi lunch with shoko. he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing shrimp tempura.
nanami kento who understands why you can no longer look him in the eye when you pass each other in the halls. you walk a tempo faster, a cold wind whisked up from your sudden distance and speed. it stings as you pass by. it stings when you rush to exit the staff room when he enters. he only dares to watch you when your back is turned and retreating far, far away from him. something under his sternum aches. he misses you. don’t you know?
it’s so hard to avoid him. he’s so big and he’s everywhere. he’s at work, he’s in the staff office, he’s in your mind. curses, he’s always in your mind.
before, fleeting images of nanami passed by. his small smiles. the big ones you managed to pull because “your humour is so childish,” so ridiculously stupid, but so stupid it makes him laugh anyway. the rumble of his voice that soothes you to sleep, especially the hard nights.
there are also the nights that your hand sneaks below the covers, then the hem of your pants, and thoughts of him doing less than innocent things run like a leaky faucet. it floods your mind, and suddenly, you can’t sleep. the only solution is to keep going until you’re tired. yes, that’s reasonable. besides, how could you not, not when he looked like that.
“what’s with you?” nanami would ask the next morning, then the morning after that, then every morning. it took you about half an hour some mornings (then most) to look him in the eye, your hands trembling around the mug he handed you. did he do something wrong? did he make you uncomfortable? should he back off? (or get back on?). stop thinking like that.
so, why can’t you seem to hate him?
you have seen him pick children from rubble. you have watched nanami perform four black flashes in succession during the black parade when it mattered most: students injured left and right. he pays out of pocket for lunches: yours and the students, with an exception of gojo. (he has a black card, kento ranted into his black coffee. he doesn’t need charity, just an ego check). you’ve watched him be the most beautiful human that you’ve had the privilege of watching, fighting with, laughing with, but for some reason, you love him and he just can’t love you.
if he does not love you, you fear who he does love. would she have long hair? short? curly hair? straight? does she have an excellent taste in fashion? is it more refined or street fashion? lolita or office-type? does she stand taller than you? is she funnier? does she have a million degrees and you’re out on the field doing the exact job nanami despises and fears? is she skinnier? prettier? the woman he would love (loves?) would just be better. he deserves better.
you cannot blame nanami kento for not loving you.
unknowing to him though, he does.
nanami kento stands at the till at the (your) convenience store.
“where’s your buddy?” it’s the son today, the one in desperate need of a haircut. he looks to be in his twenties. he scans nanami’s items: egg sandwich, transparent bandaids, a single carton of banana milk.
“by buddy, if you mean my partner, she is not with me,” nanami notes.
buddy. nanami wants to scoff. what an odd way of describing you.
“sorry, man.” the boy holds his hands out in apology. “didn’t realize you guys were together.”
there is a brief shock that pulls at nanami’s eyes. they widen, his mouth narrowing. together. why was that a less odd way of describing you?
nanami doesn’t notice his chest rising and falling rapidly. “she is my partner at work,” he corrects. he speaks in a murmur, eyes downcast. he studies the yellow carton on the till counter. banana milk. he didn’t even like it that much. a childish drink; childish humour. so full of energy but only experienced by a select special few. (why did you think he’s so special?)
“hmm,” the boy hums. “thought you guys were together. she seemed super into you. she looked at you like,” the boy shrugs his shoulders nonchantly, pressing buttons on the till screen, “like you meant a lot.”
nanami’s stomach sinks. he has to be the worst.
the convenience store bell tolls when nanami exits, paper bag in hand. the coolness of the night hits him. from this far out, he can see the speckle of the stars.
partner, nanami muses. the name suits you. it suits you and him: a pairing. together, as friends.
but not for long.
sorry guys but does anyone else wonder what would happen if nanami didn’t love you? and you love him? i do it all the time lol. if i feel it y’all have to feel it >:)
also it’s 2:00 am here please excuse the thought vomit.
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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 days ago
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Autumn (Cregan Stark x Reader)
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Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?
Warnings: Unreliable narrator!!!! Mature language. Descriptions of grief.
A/N: I was not expecting the response my silly little idea has gotten. I am very thankful for all of you who decide to read it, and would love to hear what you think of this chapter. Series masterlist here.
YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.
It doesn’t soothe you as you thought it would. The odious parchment offering you an honor guard from your future husband might be gone, but you still have to journey North before a moon since Luke’s funeral has passed.
At the thought of your brother, a sharp, stabbing pain, manifests in your chest. You choke down a sob. You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.
Your grief only serves to fuel your rage, though. How could he? How could he demand you be wed when you were still in mourning? When you were still thinking of your sweet brother, not of keeps, and lords, and men?
“You dare!” You screech, barging inside Jacaerys’ rooms. Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”
Jace sets down his quill. He turns to look at you, his expression calm. You would think him indifferent, were it not for the fact that there is the slightest furrow of his brows.
“We need men.” He states, simply, and when you are about to interrupt him to say there are many more in the realm, he keeps speaking. “We need his men. The North is the largest kingdom, you know this as well as I. And when a Stark calls the banners, they are the only ones who respond in full.”
Your hands ball into fists. You hate that he is acting so composed, so rational. After Luke died, you felt like a chained dragon, roaring your grief and wishing to be freed to set ablaze those that had wronged you. Once, you had been as gracious as him and mother, composed even in the height of emotion. But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
Your emotions are out of control. You know this. You get angered at the barest hint of an insult, you cry as easily as a newborn babe. Knowing it doesn’t stop you from lashing out, though. It only makes you regret it later.
“Our mother promised I was to have my pick of suitors, not that I would be sold like a cow!” You point an accusing finger to his chest. Jace sighs and gets up, surrounding the desk.
“I understand you are upset.” He tries offering you a hug, but you jerk away. His face hardens slightly. “But this is war.”
As if you do not know. As if you haven’t lost a sibling, too. Your face crumbles, and Jace calls your name, but hearing his voice, how similar Luke and him sound, only makes you cry harder.
“Hey, hey, it’s not so bad.” He hugs you, pressing your face against his doublet. The material is soft against your skin, and you feel tempted to let go of your rage against him and sink into his arms. Jace is barely a man, too, just as you are barely a woman. He is doing as best as he can, spread too thin by the weight of responsibility that comes with being heir. “Cregan is a good man. I got to know him during the time…”
Yes, he was doing as best as he could. But it hadn’t been his own hand that he had bartered away, had it? The insidious voice in your head asks. It isn’t him who is making a sacrifice. And such a hollow one. He claims to need men, but he won’t be getting even the full northern army.
“You sold me for a few Greybeards! Not even a proper army! Good Gods, you are a fool.” You cry out.
“Lord Stark assures me…” Jace starts, with the tone of someone who has already had this same argument. Were you thinking clearly, you would pause and realize why. Instead...
“He has put a wife in the grave already.” It is the only thing you know about him. Not much is whispered about Cregan Stark, at least, nothing concerning. You would remember it. The only thing that you know, though, is that he is a Stark and his wife is dead.
“You make it sound as if he killed her himself with his bare hands.” Jace scoffs. “I assure you, he dearly loved Arra Norrey and would have never harmed her. You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”
Perfect. He hadn’t killed the damn woman, he was just still in love with her. By the Seven, Jace was a fool. You hated being second in anything. Here, at home, you were already second to Jace, and you resented it. Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.
When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, calling for her years after her death, even as Alicent was the one to nurse him during his illness.
“He is still a widower.” You repeat, stubbornly.
Jace pinches the bride of his nose, before letting out a deep exhale. His next words are spoken extremely slowly, as if talking to a child. It makes you bristle.
“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”
It would be thoughtful, were it not for the fact that:
“His first wife died in childbirth!”
As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, the voice of your mother startles you both.
“What is going on here?” She asks, mouth pursed in an expression identical to Jace. The Queen looks as regal as ever, and it only serves to make you feel a tad embarrassed. With wild hair and eyes, face flushed from rage, you are sure that next to her, you must look like a wilding. “Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”
“It’s his fault.” You accuse, pointing at Jace.
“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”
“So you informed her?” Your mother asks, calmly. Too calmly for someone who has just found out. Had it been her plan all along?
“Did you knew all along?” You whisper.
Rhaenyra turns to look at you. As always, your mother has a smile ready for you, but as of late, they are laced with sadness. This one is no exception.
“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”
You examine her expression. Her eyes are swollen and red rimmed, grief clouding her regal face. There is a certain determination in her features, a calm acceptance in her eyes, that tells you that her mind is already made.
Her face is not one of a distraught mother who will soon give her daughter away. You know her too well to mistake it for that.
“You hoped for this.” You keep your voice dangerously low, your anger threatening to bubble up in your throat. “You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”
Your mother doesn’t answer.
Her silence is damming. You turn to look at Jace, disbelieving. Of course the two of them had been scheming behind your back. Your brother had always been the closest one to your mother.
“And neither of you could tell me to my face?” You ask, letting out a hysterical laugh. “I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”
Suddenly, your mother grabs you by the shoulders. Her face is frightening, like an avenging goddess of Old Valyria. Her lips are curled back, teeth bared, and her eyes are as wild as yours.
“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”
She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving you standing on still shaking legs.
CREGAN HAD BEEN lingering near the entrance of Winterfell ever since his men had spotted the Queen’s banner on the horizon. Back then, they had expected the party to arrive in half a day. He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.
The first time Cregan had married, he had known the bride for a long time. Arra had been his childhood companion, and they had spent many moons together, playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.
He had not feared marriage then. Spending forever chained to another person wouldn’t be so bad if that person was Arra.
Now, he did. Cregan had been content on his own, and had no desire to remarry. Even if he had, a southron princess wouldn’t have been his first choice. Though Prince Jacaerys had been honorable and dutiful, he was still naive. They were nearly of an age, but when Cregan had stood next to him, he had felt as old as his Greybeards.
A naive little princess would never survive in the North. His lords would eat her alive. The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.
Arra had been the only woman he had thought of marrying because she had been the only woman he had thought fit to the task. She had been of the North, as he was, and it had helped him envision a future together where they ruled over the very same land that had birthed both of them.
It was only adequate that the Lady of Winterfell was a woman of the North. Southron Princesses, especially those who had been groomed to marry inside the family, could be of little help running a keep. If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.
Yet if wishes were dragons, beggars would soar through the skies. Prince Jacaerys had seemed a bit insulted at his offer of Greybeards, but with winter coming, it was all Cregan could spare. He was no stranger to political games, though, and knew he had to smooth down the feathers his offer had ruffled.
Hence, the offer. To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.
And Prince Jacaerys, showing himself to be the dutiful prince and brother he was, had understood the offer for what it was. A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.
It had impressed Cregan. Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage. He could picture himself following him. After all, his Targaryen blood and character were the important part. That was what made him a worthy King.
Without a dragon of your own, your journey had been perilous. He knew you had ridden without banners until you had safely arrived into northern territory, a feat that had taken you a whole moon. Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered. It had only prompted new anxieties for him.
What if he failed to fulfill his promise because you were abducted or harmed in the journey? What if the people riding with Black banners weren’t truly your honor guard, but an ambush prepared by the enemy?
Cregan doubted he would be at ease until he saw you emerge out of your wheelhouse, whole and unscathed. Hence, his waiting by the door. He would not be nervous a moment longer than he needed to.
The first thing Cregan saw was that your honor guard was smaller than he expected. He had known you would travel with a sparse escort, as to not attract undue attention. It was a miracle you had made it here with only ten guards, though. The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.
In contrast, the woman who stepped out of the wheelhouse wasn’t miraculous nor was she what Cregan envisioned when thinking of a Princess.
You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you. You wouldn’t survive a winter in the North, hells, it looked like a strong breeze would blow you away.
Your hair and eyes were as dark as the ones of your brother. You wore a pretty wool dress, in mourning black. The lacings on the back were done too tightly, a lot of the ribbon hanging limply, and the dress was loose around your chest and hips. It was clear you had recently lost weight, probably during the journey because the gown hadn’t been altered to fit you.
There were dark circles under your eyes, which were also red rimmed. Your skin was pale, your dark hair braided back in a severe style. Grief didn’t suit you. You looked small and sad, despite having a pleasing figure.
It didn’t help that the dress you had chosen was one far too thin for a sensible northern woman to wear. The day wasn’t even that cold, but you were already shivering. It was barely snowing, for the Gods’s sake!
Cregan approached you and gave you a bow.
“Princess.” He extended his arm to you. You took it, shivering. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“Pleasant enough.” At least your voice isn’t frail. The last thing Cregan needed was a soft-spoken southron lady. You even manage to smile at him, which makes you look considerably more attractive.
Cregan would admit one thing, and one thing only: Queen Rhaenyra made pretty children. Both you and Jacaerys had sinful mouths and bewitching dark eyes, though he found yours far more pleasing.
“I am sorry for your loss.” He says, as he escorts you inside Winterfell. Your trembling intensifies, instead of subsiding in the warmth of his hall. You say nothing.
When he risks a glance at your face, your eyes are suspiciously wet. You avoid meeting his eyes, even as he offers you the customary salt and bread.
“I remember when Arra got here.” Cregan offers, awkwardly. He isn’t quite sure of what to say to a grieving Princess, so he decides to share something about himself in hopes that you will open up too. He desperately needs to change the subject. Or to start a subject. He is not picky, anything that keeps you from crying will do. “She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”
“She was quite closer to home than I.” You reply, and your tone has regained strength. You no longer shake, body stiffer. Cregan decides to take it as a good sign. You are clearly struggling to get a hold of yourself, which is why you turn so tense, so he decides to keep speaking to give you some more time.
“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”
You laugh. When he gets to know you better, Cregan will realize that your laughter wasn’t genuine.
He will also realize this had been the moment your heart iced over.
YOU PAGE THROUGH your book, in silence. Winterfell doesn’t have court musicians, and for that, you are thankful. Silence has always been your preferred companion right before bed. That, and a good book.
Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon. Neither your mother nor siblings had much interest in your shared heritage, beyond the ability it gave them to ride dragons.
While Baela and Rhaena spoke fluid High Valyrian, the same could not be said for your brothers. As the only girl in the household, your lessons had been spent with the former and not the latter, forcing you to improve. Once you did, you had found reading the tales of old was a pleasant pastime.
You enjoyed laying in bed and imagining all the stories about magic, dragons, and empresses. When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.
“For you to read to your future children.” He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”
The day he had acknowledged you as one of his daughters, even if you didn’t share blood, was the happiest nameday you had had. He was right, too. As much as you loved the twins, you couldn’t picture them being motherly. Baela would have to have a son, to inherit after Jace, but you believed that it would be him who took charge of the more fatherly duties while she dedicated herself to statecraft. Rhaena, instead, had a thirst for adventure, to travel and know the world. Her ambition wasn’t conducive to motherhood either.
You, instead, had always dreamed of marrying a man who loved you and starting a family of your own. You envisioned yourself as the lady of a great keep, where you would rule fairly, and raise your children without wet nurses.
Those dreams had already been shattered. The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir. There was no need for you to be a mother anymore.
You turned another page of your book, watching the beautiful illustrations. You had dreamed of reading this to a little girl who looked like you, or perhaps a boy that would have looked like the man of your dreams. They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.
It would not come to pass. Not any longer.
A soft knock on your door makes you set down your book, closing it with great care. Then, you get up and put on your robe over your sleeping shift.
“You may enter.”
Your husband steps in, dressed for bed already. He is a handsome man, you think, biting your lower lip. Tall, dark and handsome, Cregan is the sort of man your childhood self would have pictured marrying.
He could have been the perfect man to fall in love with, were it not for the fact that he would never love you back. He already loved someone else, someone who you could never aspire to match. His first wife, Lady Arra.
As Alicent had learned, it was impossible to overshadow a ghost. Dead as she was, she could never make mistakes. He would forget all her imperfections.
She gave him a child, she was the wife he chose. The one he married for love, not duty. A practical, northern woman his bannermen had surely liked far more as a match to him than a soft southron princess who didn’t even have a dragon.
“I was wondering if you would welcome my company tonight, Princess.” Your husband says, voice emotionless. He is only here because of duty, it seems. “We could share the bed.”
“You said we could wait to consummate our union.” You keep your voice firm. It is not a task you anticipate eagerly, but you are not afraid of it either. You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing. It is only the awkwardness of doing so with a stranger that puts you off.
“I was not referring to that.” Your husband says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “The nights are cold in Winterfell. Is it wrong for a man to seek closeness to his wife?”
You frown. His behavior is most puzzling. He intends to share your bed… To sleep? Your mother shared her bed with Daemon, but she also bedded him. It makes no sense to you that he wants to sleep next to you without touching you. Most marriages don’t do that. Much less if they are political matches.
“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.
That night, Cregan dreams of running. Of having a snout covered in blood, of jumping into the river, trying to trap a seahorse.
He never manages to. Wolves aren’t meant to hunt seahorses.
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dpspcehntr · 2 days ago
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Kink Series: Xavier
Zayne || Rafayel || Sylus
Pairing: Xavier x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: biting, marking, handjob, light bondage, oral (f & m receiving), orgasm control, orgasm denial, cock rings, over stimulation, masturbation (f receiving), P in V, cream pie
A/N: I listened to the secret time Unreturned Traveler for inspiration and uh, I think I got it and then some (iykyk). That card is so intense I was flush the whole time. This is not beta read as usual so please be nice. Anyway reblogs are always appreciated and I hope you enjoy
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You finish making a pretty bow around Xavier’s wrists and step back to admire your handiwork.
“You look so pretty, I promise I’ll be nice.”
You begin kissing down his body.
You leave a bite mark in his inner thigh as a grunt leaves his lips. You kiss the mark and move closer to him, leaving marks and kisses all the way up. His breath is shallow as you take him in your hands. He strains against the ties, desperate to feel his hands on your body.
“Remember you can’t cum yet.”
He hums in agreement as you begin to pump him in your hands. There wasn’t much he could do anyway with the ring around the base but the command made things feel more fun. You take long languishing pumps agonizing him further. Your tongue gently licks the head as he squirms underneath you. His eyes are screwed shut as you continue to pump him slowly. He tussles with the restraints on his hand more and more as his release gets closer and closer. He begs over and over for you to go faster but it falls on deaf ears as you keep your steady pace. Seeing him beg and plead for you has you pooling in your underwear. They’re surely ruined by now as he can’t help but get louder and louder. You lean down and continue to mark his skin by sucking and biting. Never enough to break the skin but just enough to hurt, that’s how he likes it best.
“I-l can’t. I’m gonna cum.”
He whimpers out as he tries his best to shrink away from your touch. You show him mercy and pull away, letting him slump down in the chair.
“You’re doing so wonderful Xavier. Think you have just a little more?”
You begin to undo the buttons on your shirt while you wait for his answer. He nods weakly and you stop.
“Use your words sweetheart. Or I’ll stop and you’ll never get what you want.”
He gulps and straightens himself against the restraints.
“Y-yes. Please.”
You continue to unbutton your shirt, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation. You slide your shirt off your shoulders and reach for the zipper of your pants. You hook your thumbs into your underwear and pull both of them down slowly. He groans at the sight of your naked body as you come closer to him. Once standing in front of him you reach a hand down your body and carefully begin to rub yourself with the pads of your fingers. You toss your head back with a shout as you continue to rub yourself in front of him. Your knees feel week with want as you watch him moan in desperation. With your other hand you lean him forward into you. He shudders as he tastes you on his tongue. Slow wet licks around your clit leaves you breathless. You move your hand into his hair and press yourself deeper into him. Your orgasm is coming up fast as you pull his head away. The denial makes you whimper as you step back. He looked deliciously ravished, his hair mussed, pupils blown, and his lips swollen and glistening with your juices. The marks you made sit red and angry on his inner thigh. You make your way behind him and carefully undo his wrists, kissing each one gently. You make your way back in front of him and remove the ring from his base. He shakes with pleasure at your gentle touch and looks in your eyes.
“I promised I’d be nice.”
You close the gap between you and climb into his lap. His hands fly to your hips, holding your dripping core over his rock hard dick. You grip him in your hand and line him up with your entrance. You sink down onto him with ease and bottom out. You’re so blissfully full you could cum right now. You stay like this for a moment before he lifts you up just slightly and slams you back down onto him. His pace is brutal as he slides in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot each time. You feel your orgasm coming up once again as you clench down on him. He doesn’t stop forcing your orgasm to crash down onto you before you can stop it. He pumps his cum deep inside you as you cum together. You scream out as you gush over him, his own release mixing with yours. He doesn’t stop, pounding into you as your climaxes continue. The sound of skin hitting skin and your releases only turns you on more as another orgasm crashes over you. You loose track of your own releases, one rolling into the next. His cum sticky on your thighs as he pumps load after load inside you. Your brain is fuzzy with pleasure as his hips continue to snap into you. You throat hoarse and your voice gone from crying out. His pace has gone frantic as his last orgasm rolls over him. He thrusts as far as he can before releasing his last load deep inside of you. You collapse onto him as he pulls you in closer. Your hips ache as you settle back into yourself. He pants underneath you as he comes down from his own release. He pulls out of you and you feel his cum leaking out of you. You whine as the loss as he shushes you with a kiss.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
With a tight grip on you he gets up and carries you into his bedroom. He carefully places you on the bed and goes to get a damp washcloth. You’re drifting off to sleep as you feel his gentle touch soothing your sore spots and wiping away the stickiness on your thighs. You hum in a daze and moan at his touch.
“Shh. Not tonight. Just rest.”
He climbs into bed with you and pulls you closer. You drift to sleep in his arms.
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gpcwsl · 2 days ago
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Hey! Could you maybe write something for Lia Wälti where r has a reputation as a fuckboy/womanizer since they have quite a few one-night stands that never lead to anything more. They always get teased by the team for that. R and Lia are close friends and always very close physically: cuddling on the couch, sleeping in the same bed during sleepovers, Lia sitting on r's lap etc. One night they are watching a movie or smth on the couch and Lia straight up asks r why they have never tried anything with her. R tells her it is because they don't want her to leave, and then explains that basically all anyone ever wanted from them was sex, and no one stuck around after they had that, that's why now r just sticks to casual hook-ups if anyone approches them, and never actually initiates that stuff first. And they don't care about some stranger leaving in the morning, but they do like Lia a lot, and her leaving would really hurt, so they never acted on their feelings. And then a fluffy confession from Lia's side? Sorry this is really long, you absolutly don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with it!
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Warnings: swearing, short, suggestive, mentions of sex (brief) mentions of fuck-boy, mentions of one night stands, kissing, making out.
Lia Wälti x Reader
You’re Different, and I don’t know why.
MasterList
Relationship’s aren’t your thing. You think they are underrated, love is underrated. You were taught that way while growing up. Sure, maybe the reason why is because you never knew your dad since he left the minute your mum got pregnant - ever since then your mother had taught you to never fall in love. So you took that advise. Never been in a relationship before, but definitely slept with half the girls in your hometown.
You always did a really good job with trying to not let those one night stands get in the way of football. Ending things with the girl as soon as the sunrise starts to shine awake. Cutting off any excess to phone number, instagram, ext.
Two years ago, you left your hometown. With getting a bigger contact with a new team who has been pushing for you for some time now - Arsenal. You decided to step up your game. Even win more trophies. Leaving was easy. You had no relationship with any family member, then not fearing enough to even say goodbye either.
But, ever since joining Arsenal things have been different. Different as in, not that many one night stand - and that’s because of a girl. A girl. Breaking a promise to your mother, you seem to be drawn into this woman. You so badly wanted to push her away, but you can’t seem to have the courage to. Which was weird. You always had courage to do anything. You never felt any sort of guilt of even thinking of doing anything like that.
She was driving you crazing.
Right now, it’s after training. Everyone is all gathered in the changing rooms. Getting into their own clothes they walked in this morning. You sitting down in the bench, tying your lases on your trainers.
Kyra, with the same old smirk on her face, sits down next to you, nudging your shoulder. “Y/l/n, you been with cute ladies lately?”
You roll your eyes, now knowing everyone is now focused on you. “No.”
Kyra raises an eyebrow, looking around the room before speaking. “Really? Cause if I remember what miss McCabe said to me the other day was - on your first day with the team you tried to get with everyone.”
You look up, immediately making eye contact with Katie who immediately moves behind her girlfriend. “I didn’t say tha-“
You roll my eyes again, before shrugging my shoulders. “Okay, sure but I didn’t try to get with them. Just flirted before I didn’t anymore.”
“That’s true, she hasn’t flirted with us ever since then.” Leah confirms, nodding her head.
“Why did you stop?” Kyra asks. Your eyes shifted to Lia, who was looking at you, smiling softly knowing the answer. “No reason.”
You then stand up from the bench. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m going home. Why don’t you nag to Alessia to who she kissed at last nights party.”
“What?!” - “For fuck sake, Y/n/n!”
With all the attention to Alessia. You look for Lia who is still looking at me. You nod my head for her to follow me. She easily sneaks past everyone who is still pestering Alessia.
As soon as you walk out the door; when you see Lia, you quickly grab her arm pulling her into a storage room. She lets out a yelp as you push her in. You quickly shut the door, locking it.
You turn around to see Lia smiling widely at you. Her hands on her hips. “Seriously? This is so high-school relationship material. Sneaking into the storage room?”
You shrug, smiling at her. “Can’t help myself. Haven’t kissed you for hours.” You mumble, taking only a small step forward to wrap your hands around her waist.
“Is that so?” Lia whispered, immediately wrapping her arms around your neck. “Well, we should do something about that, hey?”
You nod your head, pulling her closer to kiss her. The kiss was soft. Very different to other kisses you had with other girls.
You smile into the kiss - again, different to other girls that you never smiled while kissing before.
Lia change your life straight away.
First day at Arsenal. Kyra was right. You flirted with everyone - but as soon as your eyes founded Lia’s body you stopped. All your attention was on her and her only.
Lia pull away from the kiss. “Let me ask you something.” She says, looking up at you. - You nod your head, hands rubbing against her hips.
“Why haven’t you tried anything with me?”
You burrow your eyebrows, looking at her. “What you mean?”
“Like you were at your hometown. You choked up with every girl you found hot - and obviously you found me hot but, you didn’t try anything. You didn’t even flirt with me like you did with the others.” Lia rambled, her eyes staying in yours the whole time.
“Dunno. You’re different, and I don’t know why. I definitely thought about it but then hated myself. I could never do that to you.” You answered honestly.
“But, I’m not. I promise.” You state, holding her hands. Lia smiles, rubbing her thumb along your hand. “I know. I can tell how much you care about me. Just wanted to know.”
Lia then pulls you back into a kiss. You instantly kiss back, again smiling. “Let’s go home… I got something planned.” Lia mumbles, smirking.
“Oh yeah?” You mumble back, pulling away to see her smirk, smirking back. “What?”
“It’s a surprise.” Lia whispers, unlocking the door and pulling it open. Once the cost was clear she grabs your hand, pulling you with her to the exit.
You never been more grateful that you left your hometown to London.
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jjsloverre · 2 days ago
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bed- j.m
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bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader
in which… jj takes sweethearts virginity and finally gives her the love nobody else could— or she wouldn’t allow anyone else to give her.
warnings: cursing, smut, p in v (wrap it up) oral (female!receiving) praise kink, size kink, aftercare all that stuff!
________________________________________
you didn’t know how you two got to this conversation. jj was talking about his horrible sex life. “this shit sucks baby, i just want some good pussy!” he complained he secretly wish he’d have yours and yours only. but he knew it would only be a fantasy.
“maybe you should fuck every girl you lay your eyes on jj. anyway this dude wanted to have sex with me and he was being a total creep about it, like why does everyone wanna take a girls virginity and abandon them? some crazy shit i tell you!”
“y’know i wouldn’t abandon you?” jj said softly. you scoffed, knowing your best friend was a total fuck boy and you didn’t believe him one bit. “you know i love you? i love you tons but you are the type of boy to hit and dip and you know it.”
“you’re different mama, i promise that..” he massaged your thighs, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary, jj was a touchy guy, nobody could deny that. “i’d cater to you. you’re not some fuck toy to me.” you looked at him weirdly. “so every other girl is?”
he laughed, realizing you were right. he loved when you put him in his place, it always secretly turned him on. “no baby, that’s just a one night stand.”
“exactly what i mean jj! no man is about to make me a one night stand and potentially a baby mama!”
“fair enough sweetheart, cmon lemme show you how much i’d cater to you.” you shake your head no. “i don’t believe you, and you’re not gonna do me like you do all those other girls!”
“let’s make a deal.”
“what’s the deal?” you ask.
“i make love to you— not fuck you, love making and i make you feel things you’ve never felt before. if i prove you wrong, you make me my favorite meal.”
“and if you prove me wrong?” he held his hand out. “i’ll come over everyday and do your chores. sound like a deal?”
“fine, deal.”
“fuck yeah! alright lay down!”
“you’re getting too excited maybank, i am not the first girl you’ve done this with. and you better not have any diseases!”
“i wear a condom princess, i don’t catch anything or get anybody pregnant. do you want me to grab a condom from john b’s house real quick? i’ll be fast so you don’t have to wait and shit—“ you quickly cut him off so he could shut up.
“hush jj and let’s just— get this over with..” he quickly gets on top of you, kissing your neck teasingly. “don’t be nervous, it’s just me, just like it’s always been…” he speaks as he takes your clothes off, his eyes focused on your glistening pussy.
“are you nervous cause you’re fuckin’ drippin for me?” he slips one finger in, feeling your walls clench around his finger. “fuck you’re tight.. my dick is gonna love this…”
you whimper at the feeling, jj quickly pulls his fingers out when he realizes your tears. “baby it’s okay, did that hurt?” you shook your head no and wipe your tears. “it felt good jayj, it was just.. a lot at first.” he nodded. “alright so, first i’m just gonna eat your pussy how does that sound? you’ve gotten eaten out before right?” you smile. “by you jj.”
he couldn’t believe he almost forgot, you guys did exchange giving head a few months ago for the first time experience. “yeah so, it’ll be good i promise. ok! lay down, relax, and i’ll enjoy my snack!”
you smile at his enthusiasm, the boy that was about to be tongue deep inside you; you’re best friend was rhyming about eating your pussy. while you were thinking about something completely different you feel jjs tongue go straight to your clit. licking and sucking— devouring you like you were his last meal.
“i’ve always wanted to do this again, fuck you with my tongue in you’re bed, watching you squirm.. fuck you’re so sexy..” he went tongue deep inside you, licking inside you until you were at your peak. you quickly came undone.
“jeez jj, you don’t play do you?” you wipe some of his face with a towel, while he licks the rest of your essence up. “you taste phenomenal baby, couldn’t get enough.”he pulls his shorts down, revealing his long thick cock, precum leaking from the tip. “you see what you do to me beautiful?”
you nod. “jj that’s too big- that’s not gonna fit inside me! there’s no way that’s going inside me!” he let you babble on until you stopped. “it’ll fit princess, cmon lemme show you.” you shook your head no immediately.
“jj i’m serious! that shits gonna hurt!” he shook his head right back. “it’ll sting a lil bit but it’ll feel good scouts honor!”
“you’re so unserious jj.” he spreads your legs and pushes his tip inside of you, you didn’t even notice since you were talking so much. you realized he had you talk so you wouldn’t feel the pain, and he was already balls deep inside you. “h-how did you do that?”
“you’re wet princess, so it just slipped in… feel good? let me know when you’re ready for me to move.” you nod, waiting a few minutes before you tapped his abs. “yes ma’am?” he asks. “w-want you to move now..” he nods, moving slowly but extremely deep. “fuck you’re tight.. not gonna last long in this pussy, fuckkkk princess!”
he starts to speed up, hearing the wet slapping noises turned him on even more, he leaned down to kiss your beautiful lips. “you’re so beautiful while you’re getting fucked, you’re beautiful all the time but like this? shitttt, imagine how beautiful youd be cumming from my dick.” he rubs right circles on your clit until the band in your stomach snaps.
“jj i’m gonna cum!” he looks down at your clit, then your stomach. and he sees a visible bulge. “fuck baby, you feel that? that’s all me, all me deep inside your pussy… fuck look how big that bulge is!”
the stomach bulge was both of your breaking points, you came hard on his dick and jj’s dick buried to the hilt and spurted all his cum deep inside you. “fuck baby.. you was grippin me so tight..”
you nod, feeling utterly fucked out “i guess i owe you food then?” he chuckled. “only if you wanna make me some food, you don’t gotta do nothin for me. i’d love some pasta though, when you’re legs feel better.” he smirked.
“okay, don’t we have to pee or something? i don’t want anything happening to me jj!” he got up, putting you on his shoulders. i know princess, we’re gonna go pee now.”
“how about we order some food instead? i’m too tired to cook.” he sets you down on the toilet for you to pee. “sure. as long as i still get my pasta sometime this week.”
________________________________________
a/n: this is pretty long but hey! hope u like it!
taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @sophand4n4 @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen
more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here
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asidian · 8 hours ago
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I've been wanting to make this post for a really long time, and unfortunately, there's just no good way to do it with static images. If I could make gifs, I would gif this, so you could see exactly what I'm talking about, but alas, that is not among my skill set. So please just trust me on this and keep an eye out on your next rewatch. I promise it's worth it.
I want to point out a little character body language tell that Charles has that I think has flown largely under the radar. Every time he's gearing himself up for something he thinks is going to be difficult, he does the cutest tiny double-bounce.
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He does it in Esther's house, while Edwin's getting ready to go into the cabinet.
Depending on how you interpret the scene, he's either gearing himself up for a potentially dangerous situation or (let's be real) psyching himself up for the temptation of watching Edwin strip his jacket off. (We see you, Charles.)
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He does it near the end of episode two, talking to Crystal by the window.
He's just gotten a look into her heartbreaking issues regarding not being wanted and having nowhere to belong, and he's heading into what he expects is a fraught conversation, trying to talk her up into knowing that he, at least, appreciates her.
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He does it when he steps forward to address the washer woman.
He knows the stakes here are high; people might be killed in the hundreds, and this is their chance to get the information they need to stop it.
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He does it just before he lobs the Molotov cocktail at the doll-spider.
This is the one of the highest stakes we see all season; this is Charles gearing up for what he likely considers to be the most important moment of his afterlife. If he doesn't get this right, he's condemning Edwin to an eternity of torture.
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And he does it again when the doll-spider reappears on the stairway, just before the final dash for the doorway at the top.
Again, the stakes couldn't be higher; he knows very well they've got to make this happen, or the consequences are unthinkable.
There are likely more instances throughout the season; these are just the times I recall off the top of my head.
But more importantly than any of these, it's really telling that Charles still does this while he's in disguise.
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It shows up in the very first episode, when they go to speak to Becky's parents about her disappearance.
Here, too, he's gearing himself up to handle something he knows will be difficult. It's going to be an emotional conversation, and it's desperately important that they have it so that Crystal can get the information they need.
But this is a different actor. That means that this is such a significant character tell that they prompted the actor who plays disguise!Charles to use it, in much the same way that disguise!Edwin keeps his hand mannerisms. It's not the actor's body language. It doesn't seem to be something Jayden Revri does in interviews. It's something he's decided on for the character, a deliberate acting choice.
It's very much intentional, and it appears again and again, throughout the series.
I don't know that I had a point, here. I just wanted to appreciate the fact that this boy psychs himself up when he thinks things are about to get rough, and that he has such a charming way of doing it.
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pricegouge · 2 days ago
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In Your Web
part two - masterlist
nikolai x f!reader
cw: stalking, mention of alcohol, male masturbation MDNI
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By all accounts, you need a return address to ship to Latvia.
Rather, you need a return address to ensure your package doesn't get opened by customs, where agents will laugh at best, or steal your panties at worst. Maybe even steal your DNA? To what end, anyway? No! Worse than that - what if they used their connections to trace the package back even without your address and -?
One is predictably unsympathetic. 
» Then send it with one.
It doesn't surprise you that he thinks you're that dumb. 
You toy with the idea of leaving a random address in the return spot and cringe when you imagine a surly Russian man accosting some random family four states over. It's a mental image you carry with you over the next week, playing it on repeat every time you get cut off in traffic, or you find a coworker has pissed on the toilet seat without cleaning it up. Once, you even catch yourself thinking of it when a particularly annoying regular dominates your feed during a regularly scheduled live performance.
But One is not your knight in shining fiber optic cable. Neither do you actually wish to inflict him on anyone.
So you send it without a return address, watch the shipping updates closely, and feel your stomach slowly boil when it sits for five business days at an importing station. Evidently, One watches it as well.
» You did not do as I asked.
He's uninterested in your offer to refund his money - half now, half later. All you can manage.
» If I wanted my money back I would simply cancel my subscription and request a chargeback from the service.
» I want what I purchased.
Talk of chargebacks makes you flighty. There are only two things you know about One, those being that he is very wealthy, and very rude. The bane of all customer service operators. You don't think it's likely the service would honor a reimbursement for a tip issued over a week ago, but it's not something you want to risk seeing as, unlike your plan to split his reimbursement, OnlyFans would reach into your bank account with the cold unfeeling hand of a multi-million dollar company and steal it back all at once, a prospect you simply can't afford at this time, as embarrassed as you are to admit. Long ago you'd made a promise to yourself that any and all large tips received from this side gig would go immediately toward paying off debts - student loans, ill advised credit cards you'd taken out while still living off said loans. It was a decision that had done you nothing but good up until this very moment, when his money was already spent and you were staring down the barrel of having to pay him back using your own funds.
Or, barring that, he could cancel his subscription and not only get a chargeback for the remainder of his pay period (probably the year, knowing him - you'd have to check) but you'd also stand to lose your best customer. One you're not entirely sure how you managed to land in the first place and one whose income you'd likely never manage to replace. Already, One's singlehandedly paid off an entire card for you, and until now he's showed no signs of stopping.
« i'll fix it
It's a bold promise to make when you have no recourse, but one you don't see your way out of making.
» No, I will.
For as much as the line had made you nervous at the time, One does not make any overt moves to follow up on it that you can see. Lapses into an uncharacteristic sort of radio silence for a time. He even skips the next few liveshows, something that strikes you as very unlike him. One does not seem the type of man to let a service he's already paid for go unused. The first night it's kind of nice, seeing as he has an annoying little habit of just paying the target price within the first ten minutes because he 'doesn't have time for this' (funny, how he always has enough time to request a private cam after) but then it's three shows later and you've barely raised anything because, apparently, all your other customers are used to sitting back and reaping the benefits of One's impatience. Something you'll have to address. He stays out of your DMs, too. Offers no tips in exchange for personal requests.
You'd be lying if you said it doesn't light a fire under your ass, gets you chatting with other creators searching for ideas on how you can fix the situation. People much smarter than you say to cut your losses and just refund him. Be done with it. But mostly it just leaves you with a large level of concern. You know these people aren't dumb, but you can't imagine the level of trust they've placed in some of their own favorite customers. Maybe it's because they're lucky enough to have attracted nice people, or at least people with enough social aptitude to know how to pretend to be nice. Something to be said for One, he's never once let you forget he's not the sort of man you should trust with your personal information.
Finally, inspiration strikes in the form of another stupid suggestion, one creator admitting they've put their work address in the return slot. They do not comment on whether or not they used their legal name, but given their stage name contains the word anal, you have to assume.
No desire to let One know where you work, or even the town you're from, you begin to think about other nameless faceless organizations you can use as a fall back instead, finally settling on a random Walmart two states over. You use your stage name and post it, sending One the new tracking number along with a free vid of you getting the replacement pair all messy in hopes that he returns immediately to his normal spending.
Of course, he doesn't so much as thank you. When another two pass with no contact, you begin to grow concerned. You triple check your account to make sure he hasn't unsubbed, but he's still right there at the top - even with no tips given in over a week.
He's disappeared for a few days in the past, but this is different. You think. Or maybe it's not. You wouldn't know seeing as you don't know him. Seeing as he's never given an excuse for his absences. Not that you'd ever asked… It's normal to be worried for someone you talk with nearly every day, right? You don't know him, sure, but you'd be a bit worried if your favorite barista from the shop you frequent just up and left one day. And your income doesn't even depend on her.
Perhaps that's why you break character when he finally resurfaces, the joy on your face when you see his handle pop into chat the next night genuine. Your giddiness is infectious, even. At least one other regular bothering to welcome him back when you stop your stream dead just to say hi. Foam falls around you, slips over your bare skin down to the tarp laid over the floor where already a good foot of it has accumulated like a blanket of snow. It was an idea you'd been quite proud of, always a fan of a simple dance party. The foam machine was a small expense given the high engagement you've received so far, your subscribers happy enough to watch you shake your ass while covered in soap bubbles and glow sticks. The machine had already paid for itself, but now that One was back, you couldn't help the building hope that you'd even meet your goal for the night, which could make for a pleasant weekend full of meeting friends for drinks.
"Glad to see you're alive. Was getting a little worried about you," you grin, settling back into your roll easily. You pinch your tits between your arms as you mime snapping on a pair of gloves. "Got thinking maybe it was time for a visit from your favorite nurse."
But One is not feeling very playful tonight, if he ever is.
» Check your phone.
You huff and kick some foam at the camera obnoxiously, pleased when it falls short and hits the TV it's mounted on top of instead. You don't need to kill the mood even further by stopping to clean your lens. You eye it now, pretend you're staring up at him defiantly when you refuse, tell him you're in the middle of something with one hand snaking down your belly. On the TV below, large enough you can read even from the middle of the floor, you watch the feed as they would see it: yourself on the left while the chat bubbles in excitement on the right, egging you on. You nod at them, a silent promise, check to make sure your position looks good and that you've got a smattering of foam on you, at least enough to keep some mystery for them to unravel as the show continues -
» Now.
Irritation doesn't sell well, but sometimes you can package it as chastisement. "Play nice," you caution, voice whistling through clenched teeth. It's not One's thing specifically, but there are other regulars who you know will eat it up. "Gotta learn to share."
But One goes above and beyond simply not liking being nagged at.
He waits until your fingers are just barely tracing your thatch of curls, movement from your laptop screen catching your eye. You drop pretenses entirely when a new window opens, your private chat with One maximized so you cannot possibly miss it. Carving a path through the accumulated foam, you slink out of the field of view of the mounted camera, show long forgotten as you approach your laptop, mounting fear confirmed as you watch your mouse move across the screen of it's own accord to hit play on the video he'd evidently sent you while you were otherwise occupied.
You know what it will be based on the thumbnail, but it shocks you anyway. The panties he holds look like nothing more than candy floss in his thick fist, wrapped around a fat cock so tightly the lace is stretched. Distorted. It's weird, the things you notice when adrenaline bends time. The camera work isn't great, doesn't let you see his the root of his cock or even his belly. Its focus shifts a few times, undecided if it wants to settle on the display before it or the dark hardwood below. He wears a watch, a simple leather band nestled in a pelt of dark hair. His knuckles are dusted too, hiding the glint of a thick gold band on his pinky. Uncut, thick. He grunts the next time his foreskin pulls back enough to reveal his glistening head and your breath stutters with his when the lace catches, synthetic fibers relaxing back into a recognizable pattern as he eases them off, untangles it from his grasp to flatten against the table, flimsy gusset laughably small framed between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand.
His native tongue spills from him like his seed, molten and thick. Language, even if you can't understand it, is enough to tug at you and you yelp, your brief moment of shock fracturing enough to compel you into movement.
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Nik likes the way the suds paint her, the rainbow foam a nice contrast with her skin. It slides down the valleys of her body naturally, highlighting recesses he'd previously been unaware of. Pesky self consciousness, always framing herself so carefully to hide away the bits she think he won't like. They won't like, he supposes.
He's never minded sharing. Nature of the beast, paying for it. But he doesn't see why he should have to suffer the same experience as these others, not when he gives so much more.
It was one of the first issues that had lead him to this little perversion, the impersonal uniformity. The self-editing. He pays to see her body, not the careful curation of videos and stills which she deems tasteful enough. So he settles in behind the wrong camera most nights, his field of view lower. Off center. Only watches the proper stream - the one he actually pays for - when she looks dead at the camera to talk to him, ring light glowing eerily in her irises.
Close enough, for now.
He's logged into a burner account while he works himself up, watching as she bounces around her room to an obnoxious beat. Her audio mixing is off tonight, the club music she plays just a hair too loud. He likes to watch from alternate accounts sometimes, likes to see how well she fights her dismay when these other viewers struggle to collectively pay her bills. She's more likely to grant him special requests the longer he waits to show up, he's learned. Off the menu orders, she calls them. Cute, but not what he's looking for tonight.
Her thong hangs from the corner of his screen. He hates to have already ruined it, but consoles himself with the knowledge she'd been sweet enough to send him another pair. They won't smell as good, he's sure. Another censure she'll have placed on herself. None of the sweat from having been worn all day. But she tried. Wanted to please him. Desperate thing.
It's laughable, thinking Latvian customs would be able to stop him from acquiring what's his, but it's not like she would know that. It's why he prefers small, no-name performers like her. So unsuspecting. Passably genuine, smile growing on her face when he switches to his regular account, the one she has memorized. It makes his cock twitch, excitement growing when she showers him in attention, singles him out in the middle of her show. Forgets to keep dancing, even. As she should. He wonders if he paid for her new toy, the noisy machine currently leaving soap scum on her walls. Wonders if she'll let him pay for it again or if she'll have him summarily blocked within minutes. It won't matter, of course, but he's excited to see how she'll unfold. Another off-menu order. One more bridge too far.
What she gets, taking so much of his money yet never offering more. He just wants to see sides of her no one else has.
It's hard to control himself when she starts to get catty, shows her teeth. He'd imagined stretching this moment out a bit more, thoroughly ruining the mood for all other viewers. But when she looks right at her camera and tells him to behave, his breath goes ragged, and he has to let go of his cock to show the little bitch better - taking over her laptop to bring up the video he'd sent, a low grumble building in his chest like a warning when she slinks closer, as if proximity will give her a better understanding.
Three monitors, one for every angle of his omniscience. On the right, the chat in her official feed grows annoyed as she walks out of frame, a few of them even accusing him of foul play. Hero-types. He's going to enjoy watching them try to comfort her if she doesn't delete her account entirely after tonight - after he mouses over the video displayed on his middle screen, the mirror of her own laptop. On his left, she looms closer, expression open and honest in a way he's not seen it yet. Painted in the blue light of her monitor, it contrasts garishly with the heavy makeup she'd applied for the show, all warm-toned to match her pink neons; catches on the tiny pockets of popped soap bubbles which fleck over her cheek. It's not a good look, one she'd likely touch up before even taking a selfie for her Instagram account, a post-show teaser meant to make potential viewers feel like they'd missed out. And now that he's seen it, he knows how much he's been missing out, fist working over his cock with renewed vigor as he imagines all the ways he wants to see her now, all the ways he can, even if -
He fights the cursor when she tries to take control, but she's clever enough to know some keyboard commands. His right monitor blinks back to her profile when she cuts the feed, the middle one slowly returning to her home screen as she closes out of each window. She pulls away quickly after, palms clamped over her jaw as she breathes through the panic, soft belly caving with each pant. Foam still spews from the machine, dye having run out. It catches in her hair, paints her skin milky. He has half a mind to open a word doc on her computer, tell her she should skip the dye next time, the white more suggestive.
Doesn't get a chance. Cums when she scrambles back to the desk, his left monitor dropping the feed when she smartens up and rips the battery out of her laptop.
Left languid and lazy, he tracks her movements across her socials from his bed, thumbing through his phone. Detached, he watches her accounts blink out one after the other. A small city going dark under the approach of his hele. She deletes some outright, settles for blocking him on others. Even issues an apology to her viewers from a site she doesn't know he even has an account on. It's vague, boring. Doesn't mention him. He gets an email around midnight, her time, telling him to expect a refund for the remaining term of his payment, but is pleased to find her account still in place when he checks from a burner. The save of her live show is taken down shortly after, but he's not worried. Had it saved locally.
Can't rely on strangers from the Internet to behave, after all
111 notes · View notes
novaursa · 3 days ago
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A Lion's Folly (absolution)
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- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.
- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister
- Note: Keep in mind how things have been altered from the canon to fit the narrative of this story better.
- Rating: Explicit 18+ (blood, violence, slight gore)
- Previous part: the brave
- Next part: the fool
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @butterflygxril
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The Brave Companions had been marching steadily for days, their campfires burning low at night, their tempers growing shorter with each passing hour. You had been uncharacteristically quiet, your glares aimed more at Vargo than Jaime. Something had been brewing, he could see it in the set of your jaw and the way your eyes flicked to the woods whenever they stopped to rest.
It came to a head two nights later.
The camp was dim, the fire little more than embers. Vargo’s men were scattered, their guard lax after days of marching. You sat not far from Brienne, who remained bound but defiant, her bruised face shadowed by the weak light. Winter, ever the loyal protector, had yet to return, and Jaime found himself hoping the wolf stayed away.
Jaime was watching you—he’d grown accustomed to it, much as he tried to pretend otherwise—when he noticed the subtle shift. Your hand brushed your boot, your fingers closing around something hidden there. A blade, small and sharp. Jaime’s breath caught as you moved with deliberate slowness, your gaze darting to the nearest guards. You waited until their heads turned before springing into action.
The blade flashed in the firelight, slicing through your bonds with practiced precision. You didn’t hesitate, lunging toward the woods with surprising speed. For a moment, Jaime thought you might make it. The shadows of the trees were close, the promise of escape tantalizingly near.
But then the shout came.
“She’s running!” one of the guards bellowed, scrambling to his feet.
Chaos erupted as the Brave Companions surged after you, their shouts echoing through the forest. Jaime stood instinctively, his eyes following your retreating figure as you weaved through the trees. You were fast, faster than he expected, but the Companions were hunters, and they moved as a pack.
Vargo’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “Bring her back! Alive!”
Jaime’s stomach twisted as he saw two men break ahead of the group, their longer strides closing the gap.
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away.
You fought like a cornered animal when they caught you. You managed to wound one man, your blade finding his thigh, but the second tackled you to the ground. Your scream of frustration cut through the night, raw and desperate, as the others descended on you.
When they dragged you back into the clearing, your face was bloodied, your clothes torn, but your spirit remained unbroken. You thrashed against their grip, spitting curses that would make a sailor blush. Vargo approached with a twisted grin, his crooked teeth bared like a predator savoring its prey.
“Well, well,” he sneered, his voice thick with amusement. “The little wolf thought she could slip away. How foolish.”
“Let me go, you bastard!” you hissed, your voice hoarse but defiant.
Vargo chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve caused enough trouble. It’s time we teach you your place.”
“Don’t touch her,” Jaime said sharply, stepping forward before he could stop himself.
All eyes turned to him, the clearing falling eerily silent. Vargo’s grin widened, and he tilted his head, clearly amused.
“And what will you do, Kingslayer?” he sneered. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
Jaime met his gaze evenly, his jaw tightening. “If you want to make it to Harrenhal alive, I suggest you keep her unharmed. Robb Stark may already have his suspicions about Bolton. If he hears you’ve mistreated her, there won’t be a corner of Westeros safe for you.”
Vargo’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before returning, though the flicker of uncertainty didn’t escape Jaime’s notice.
“This again? You’re quite the loyal protector, aren’t you?” Vargo said mockingly, stepping closer to Jaime. “But don’t think I don’t see through you. You’re not protecting her for Stark’s sake. You’re protecting her for your own.”
Jaime didn’t respond, his eyes flicking to you. Your defiance hadn’t wavered, but there was a shadow of exhaustion in your expression, a flicker of something more vulnerable beneath the surface.
“Chain her,” Vargo commanded, his voice cold. “If she tries anything again, she’ll regret it.”
The men obeyed, dragging you to a tree and securing your wrists with heavy iron chains. You struggled, but the fight was leaving you, your strength sapped by the relentless days of captivity.
Jaime watched as they stepped away, leaving you slumped against the tree, your chest heaving with exertion. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.
Vargo gestured to his men, his grin returning. “Take the Kingslayer. Separate him from the rest. I’ll deal with him privately before we reach Harrenhal. Perhaps Tywin will enjoy seeing what’s left of his son after a Stark bannerman delivers him.”
As Jaime was dragged away, he glanced back at you, your head bowed but your spirit unbroken. He didn’t know why he cared so much, why your suffering twisted something deep inside him. But one thing was certain: he would find a way to end this.
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The forest seemed to close in as Vargo Hoat led Jaime to a secluded area away from the main camp. The Brave Companions flanked him on either side, their mismatched armor clinking with every step. Jaime’s mind raced, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. He knew what was coming—Vargo had been too clear in his intentions to leave any room for doubt.
His right hand.
It wasn’t just the loss that gnawed at him; it was the implications. Vargo wanted Tywin to believe Roose Bolton had been behind it, a ploy to fracture alliances and sow chaos. Jaime clenched his fists, willing his breath to stay even. If he showed fear, Vargo would relish it.
They stopped in a small clearing, the faint glow of the campfire barely visible through the trees. Vargo turned, his crooked grin widening as he drew his curved sword.
“Well, Kingslayer,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I did warn you about causing trouble. Now, it’s time to make you a little less… dangerous.”
Jaime smirked faintly, though the effort took more willpower than he cared to admit. “And here I thought you’d at least buy me a drink first, goat.”
Vargo chuckled, motioning for one of his men to hold Jaime’s arm. “Oh, I’ll make it quick. But not painless.”
The blade gleamed in the dim light, and Jaime forced himself to hold Vargo’s gaze, refusing to flinch. He knew what was about to happen, but he wouldn’t give the goat the satisfaction of seeing him break.
The blade came down.
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You sat chained beside Brienne, the iron biting into your wrists as two of Vargo’s men stood nearby, their weapons drawn. Brienne’s posture was as rigid as ever, her eyes blazing with fury despite her bruised face and bound hands. The camp around you was eerily quiet, the usual chatter of the Brave Companions muted.
Your chest felt tight, your mind racing as you replayed the events of your failed escape. You should have known better, should have anticipated their response. But you couldn’t sit idly by while Jaime and Brienne were dragged toward an uncertain fate—and worse, you couldn’t let yourself fall into despair about your sisters.
Brienne shifted beside you, her voice low. “What are they doing with him?”
You glanced toward the trees where Jaime had been taken, your heart sinking. “Something cruel,” you muttered, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to sound composed.
Brienne clenched her jaw, her muscles straining against her bonds. “Vargo Hoat is a monster. Whatever he’s planning, it will be to make a statement. That’s all he knows—violence and cruelty.”
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the chains. “He’s not my concern.”
Brienne turned her sharp gaze toward you, her blue eyes narrowing. “He should be. If they break him, we’ll lose any chance we have of surviving this. We need him alive—and whole.”
Before you could respond, a blood-curdling scream tore through the air. Your heart stopped as you recognized the voice.
Jaime.
You shot to your feet instinctively, the chains rattling as the guards stepped forward to shove you back down. “Stay put, Stark,” one of them growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
You glared up at him, the fire in your chest burning hotter. “What are they doing to him?”
The guard smirked. “Just teaching the lion his place.”
Brienne’s fists clenched, her voice low and seething. “Bastards.”
You turned your gaze back toward the woods, your stomach twisting with unease. The scream echoed in your ears, louder than it should have been, and you couldn’t shake the image of Jaime—the proud, arrogant knight—reduced to this.
“He’s Tywin Lannister’s son,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with anger. “If they harm him, they’ll pay for it.”
Brienne nodded, her expression grim. “But we’ll pay for it too. We need to think carefully. Every move we make from here on out will determine whether we live—or die.”
Your hands tightened into fists, the iron chains digging into your skin as you stared at the treeline, waiting for any sign of what was happening.
Jaime’s scream faded into the night, leaving only silence. But it was the kind of silence that promised more pain, more blood, and more despair.
And as the firelight flickered in the corner of your vision, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was any way out of this nightmare.
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The forest clearing seemed quieter now, the chaos of earlier hours replaced by an uneasy stillness. You and Brienne remained chained near the dimming fire, guarded by two of Vargo’s men. The cold bit into your skin, but you barely felt it, your focus locked on the dark woods beyond the camp.
When the sound of footsteps broke the silence, you turned, your breath hitching. Jaime was being dragged back into the clearing by two of the Brave Companions. His face was pale, his steps unsteady, and his right arm hung limply at his side. The crude bandage wrapped around the stump where his hand once was did little to stop the blood seeping through.
You inhaled sharply, your stomach twisting at the sight. Jaime stumbled as they pushed him forward, catching himself awkwardly with his left hand. The smirk he usually wore was gone, replaced by a look of exhaustion and pain.
“Set him there,” one of the guards barked, motioning toward the tree near you and Brienne. The men shoved Jaime down, and he slumped against the trunk, his breath shallow as he leaned his head back, eyes closing briefly.
Brienne’s voice cut through the stillness, low and furious. “What did they do to you, Lannister?”
Jaime opened his eyes, his usual bravado faint but present. “Just a little lesson in humility,” he muttered, his voice rasping. “Apparently, I’ve been too full of myself lately.”
Your fists clenched at your sides, the sight of him like this stirring an uncomfortable mix of emotions. You didn’t pity him—you told yourself you couldn’t—but you couldn’t deny the weight pressing on your chest.
After a moment, you spoke, your voice colder than you intended. “You shouldn’t have defended me.”
Jaime turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression unreadable. “They would’ve done it anyway,” he replied quietly. “If not for you, then for something else. It’s the price of being Tywin Lannister’s son.”
You narrowed your eyes, your jaw tightening. “And the price of being Tywin Lannister’s son is a fitting punishment for someone like you.”
Jaime chuckled weakly, though it came out more as a ragged exhale. “Fitting, perhaps. But not particularly enjoyable.”
Brienne’s gaze shifted between the two of you, her brow furrowed. “They’ll keep pushing until you’re broken,” she said, her voice heavy with warning. “That’s what Vargo wants—control. He thrives on suffering.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you,” Jaime replied, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.
You watched him carefully, noting the way his left hand twitched as if it were trying to compensate for the loss of the right. Despite the pain etched across his face, there was a stubbornness in his eyes that refused to yield.
“Why did you do it?” you asked suddenly, your voice softer now, though still guarded. “Why defend me at all? You hate my family. You hate me.”
Jaime sighed, leaning his head back against the tree. “Hate’s a strong word,” he said after a moment. “But if it makes you feel better to think that, go ahead. As for why…” He paused, his gaze meeting yours briefly before flicking to the fire. “Let’s just say I’ve been around enough people like Vargo to know when something needs to be said. If I hadn’t, things might’ve been worse. For all of us.”
You stared at him, your mind racing with thoughts you didn’t dare voice.
“You’re a fool,” you said finally, your tone quieter but no less bitting.
“Probably,” Jaime agreed, closing his eyes again. “But even fools have their uses.”
The camp fell silent once more, the crackling of the fire the only sound as the night deepened. Brienne shifted slightly beside you, her chains clinking softly as she adjusted her position. Jaime remained still, his breathing shallow but steady.
You looked away, your hands tightening around the chains that bound you. Whatever was coming next, you knew it wouldn’t be easy. But as you glanced back at Jaime, his head tilted against the tree, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to him than the arrogant, reckless man you’d always believed him to be.
For now, though, there was no time for reflection. Survival was all that mattered, and the road ahead was only growing darker.
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The looming silhouette of Harrenhal grew closer with each passing hour, its jagged towers and scorched walls a grim reminder of the war’s toll. The air seemed heavier here, thick with decay and despair. Jaime felt it pressing against his chest, though the weight of his thoughts far surpassed the weight of the place itself.
His right arm throbbed incessantly, the crude bandages wrapped around the stump now damp with blood and pus. The infection was spreading—he could feel it in the fever that crept through his body, in the weakness that made every step more difficult than the last.
Jaime Lannister, the golden lion of Casterly Rock, reduced to this.
He walked in silence, trailing slightly behind the group. His usual wit and biting remarks had abandoned him days ago, replaced by the quiet hum of pain and exhaustion. Vargo Hoat and his men had taken notice of his diminished state, their taunts growing louder and crueler as they marched. But Jaime barely heard them now. His focus had narrowed, his thoughts circling the same unrelenting truths.
You walked ahead of him, your posture rigid, your steps purposeful. The chains around your wrists clinked softly with each movement, a reminder of your captivity. Brienne walked near you, her gaze flicking back to Jaime every so often, her concern evident despite her own injuries.
Jaime’s eyes lingered on you, his thoughts churning with a mix of longing and bitterness. You hadn’t looked at him since the previous night when you’d told him to hold on. He knew the words had been for your sisters’ sake, nothing more. But still, they had stuck with him, echoing in his mind like a ghost he couldn’t shake.
“Hold on just a little longer.”
How simple it sounded. How impossible it felt.
His steps faltered slightly, and Brienne slowed her pace, her eyes narrowing as she glanced back at him. “Lannister,” she said sharply, her voice cutting through the haze. “You need to keep moving.”
“I’m moving, aren’t I?” he replied, his voice hoarse. But even he could hear the weakness in his tone.
Brienne’s frown deepened, but she didn’t respond, her focus returning to the path ahead.
You glanced back briefly, your eyes meeting his for the first time in what felt like hours. Your expression was hard to read—was it concern? Frustration? Jaime didn’t know, and he hated that he cared.
“You’re slowing us down,” you said flatly, though your voice lacked its usual bite. “If you don’t keep up, they’ll drag you the rest of the way.”
Jaime smirked faintly, though the effort sent a fresh wave of pain through his arm. “I’ll try not to ruin the rhythm of the procession,” he muttered.
You stopped walking then, turning fully to face him. The guards barked in irritation, but you ignored them, your focus entirely on Jaime.
“Just hold on a little longer,” you said, your voice quieter now. “We’re almost there.”
Jaime’s smirk faded, replaced by something closer to resignation. He knew why you were saying it. You needed him alive. Without him, your sisters’ safety would be in jeopardy. It had nothing to do with him—nothing personal.
But the way your eyes lingered on him, the faint tension in your brow, made him want to believe otherwise.
“I suppose I owe you that much,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to the ground.
You didn’t reply immediately, but when you turned back toward the path, Jaime caught a glimpse of something in your expression—something fleeting and indecipherable.
The rest of the march passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion. Harrenhal loomed closer, its broken towers casting long shadows over the forest. Jaime’s body screamed for rest, but he forced himself to keep moving, his left hand gripping his side as if that alone could steady him.
The infection burned through him, a relentless fire that made his thoughts sluggish and his steps unsteady. But through it all, one thought remained clear, piercing through the haze like a blade.
You.
Every glance, every word, every retort—it stayed with him, filling the silence when the pain grew too loud. He told himself it was ridiculous, that you were a Stark, that you despised him. But it didn’t matter.
You were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.
As they neared Harrenhal’s gates, Jaime glanced at you one last time, his vision blurring slightly from the fever. You walked with your head high, your chains clinking softly, your determination unshaken.
And for a brief, fleeting moment, Jaime allowed himself to hope.
Not for himself. Not for redemption.
But for you.
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The gates of Harrenhal loomed like a giant maw, jagged and broken, swallowing all who dared enter. The once-mighty castle was a shadow of its former self, its walls blackened by dragonfire and its halls steeped in death. The atmosphere was suffocating, the air heavy with decay and despair.
Jaime stumbled as they were marched through the gates, his fever-addled mind struggling to stay focused. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, the hastily wrapped bandages doing little to stem the infection festering beneath. Every step sent jolts of pain radiating through his body, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to keep moving.
You and Brienne walked ahead of him, your chains rattling with each step. Your posture was rigid, your eyes scanning the grim surroundings with barely concealed disgust. Brienne’s face was stoic, but her clenched fists betrayed her tension. Vargo Hoat rode alongside his men, his twisted grin widening as they approached the central courtyard, where Roose Bolton awaited.
The Lord of the Dreadfort stood in the center of the crumbling courtyard, his pale face impassive, his cold, calculating eyes taking in the scene before him. Clad in black and grey, he looked every bit the predator that his reputation suggested.
Vargo dismounted with an exaggerated flourish, his voice grating as he called out, “My lord Bolton! I bring you a gift worthy of your station—the Kingslayer himself!”
Roose’s eyes flicked to Jaime, his expression unreadable. He stepped forward slowly, his gaze narrowing as he took in Jaime’s condition.
“This is the Kingslayer?” he said, his tone as calm and cold as a winter breeze. “He looks half-dead.”
Vargo chuckled, though the sound was nervous. “A small… accident, my lord. But he still lives.”
Roose’s gaze lingered on Jaime’s fevered face, his pale lips pressing into a thin line. “An accident,” he repeated, his voice flat. “You’ve rendered him nearly useless. Lord Tywin will not be pleased.”
At the mention of his father, Jaime forced himself to straighten, ignoring the wave of dizziness that threatened to consume him. “Where is my father?” he asked, his voice rasping but steady.
Roose’s gaze shifted to him, and for a moment, there was a flicker of amusement in his otherwise impassive expression. “He is not here,” he replied simply. “He has left for other matters.”
The answer struck Jaime harder than he expected. If Tywin wasn’t at Harrenhal, then whatever hope Jaime had of immediate salvation was gone. He glanced at you briefly, noting the tension in your posture as Roose’s attention shifted to you.
“And who is this?” Roose asked, his voice as smooth as silk. “A Stark, no less. A rare prize.”
You lifted your chin defiantly, your eyes blazing as Roose stepped closer. “The wolf cub,” he said softly, his tone almost mocking. “How far from the pack you’ve strayed.”
Without hesitation, you spat at him, the glob of saliva landing near his feet.
The courtyard fell silent, the dread palpable as Roose regarded you with a slight tilt of his head. Vargo’s men moved instantly, yanking you back roughly by your chains, causing you to stumble.
“Careful,” Roose said sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a blade. “Do not harm her. A Stark must remain intact if we are to have any use for her.”
The men hesitated, their grips loosening slightly as they glanced nervously at their lord.
Roose turned back to you, his pale eyes narrowing. “You have fire,” he said softly, almost to himself. “A trait you share with your brother. Let us hope it does not consume you.”
You glared at him, your breathing heavy but steady, refusing to look away.
Roose’s gaze shifted back to Vargo. “Get them cleaned and seen to,” he ordered, his tone brisk. “Their current state is unacceptable. They are to be treated as prisoners of value, not cattle.”
Vargo opened his mouth to protest but quickly thought better of it. “As you command, my lord.”
The guards moved to escort the three of you deeper into Harrenhal, their grips firm but less rough than before. Jaime stumbled again as they marched, his strength waning with each step.
“Hold on, Lannister,” you said suddenly, your voice low but steady.
He glanced at you, his expression a mix of exhaustion and bitterness. “For your sisters’ sake, I presume?” he muttered.
You didn’t reply, your gaze fixed ahead as the grim halls of Harrenhal swallowed you whole.
Jaime’s thoughts churned as he walked, the pain in his arm nearly unbearable. Roose Bolton’s presence added a new layer of unease to the already dire situation. But as he glanced at you one last time, your defiance unbroken despite the chains, he found himself clinging to the faintest shred of resolve.
If you could stand tall in the face of this nightmare, then perhaps he could too. For now.
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The air in the stone bathhouse was thick with steam, damp and suffocating, yet it carried a sense of relief—a reprieve from the grime and blood that clung to them after days of captivity. Jaime stumbled slightly as he was led inside, his body aching and fevered, but his keen gaze quickly took in the scene before him.
You and Brienne had already been brought here, seated in one of the large stone baths partially filled with hot water. Neither spoke. You were scrubbing at your arms, your movements methodical, your focus elsewhere as though the world around you barely registered. Brienne, by contrast, sat rigid and alert, her broad frame hunched slightly, her eyes darting toward the entrance the moment Jaime appeared.
Jaime’s first thought, despite himself, was of you.
The steam blurred the air between you, softening the harsh edges of the moment. Your hair clung to your damp skin, your movements precise as you worked to rid yourself of the dirt and sweat of the journey. There was something about the quiet determination in your expression, the way you seemed to block out the world, that drew his attention.
Not that he could dwell on it for long.
Brienne gasped, her eyes widening as Jaime stepped forward. “You shouldn’t be here!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of alarm and outrage.
“Relax, Brienne,” Jaime said, his tone dry, though his steps were unsteady. “I’m hardly here to steal your modesty. Though I’m sure the gods are watching with bated breath.”
Brienne turned scarlet, scurrying to the far end of the bath and splashing water as she moved. “There’s another bath chamber next door. Use that one!”
Jaime smirked faintly, leaning heavily against the stone edge. “I’d love to, truly, but I doubt I’ll make it another step without keeling over. So, unless you’d prefer to haul me there yourself…”
“You’re impossible,” Brienne muttered, averting her gaze.
You didn’t react, your focus still on scrubbing your arms, your fingers working the grime from your skin. Jaime’s smirk faltered as he glanced at you, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite name.
She doesn’t care, he thought bitterly. Of course, she doesn’t. To her, I’m just a pawn, a means to an end for her sisters’ safety.
Still, he couldn’t help but admire your composure, the way you carried yourself even now. It was infuriating, really, how you seemed untouched by the vulnerability of the moment, your focus unwavering as though you had nothing to hide.
Jaime eased himself into the water with a hiss, the heat stinging his wounds and sending a jolt of pain through his arm. He clenched his jaw, refusing to let it show, though his breathing came quicker for a moment.
Brienne glared at him from her corner of the bath, her expression a mix of disgust and frustration. “You have no shame, do you?”
“Shame?” Jaime echoed, his smirk returning faintly despite the discomfort. “I left that behind in King’s Landing. Or perhaps it was when I was chained to a tree and left to rot. Hard to keep track these days.”
Brienne’s lips pressed into a thin line, her anger simmering beneath the surface. “You mock everything—honor, duty, decency. Is there nothing sacred to you?”
Jaime’s gaze darkened, the smirk fading as his eyes locked onto hers. “Honor and duty,” he said quietly, his tone sharp. “Words people like you cling to so you can pretend the world isn’t as cruel as it is. Tell me, Brienne—what has honor earned you? A lifetime of being ridiculed? A chain around your neck? Or is it your blind loyalty that’s brought you to this fine establishment?”
Brienne’s fists clenched, her glare intensifying. “I serve my lady and her family because it is right. Because it is what I swore to do. You, Lannister, wouldn’t understand that.”
Jaime leaned back against the edge of the bath, his head tilting slightly as his gaze flicked to you. “And what about her?” he asked, nodding toward you. “What does she fight for? Honor? Duty? Or something else entirely?”
You paused briefly, your fingers stilling on your arm as you glanced at him. Your expression was unreadable, your eyes meeting his for the briefest moment before you turned away.
“It doesn’t matter what I fight for,” you said simply, your voice calm but distant. “What matters is surviving. And right now, that means all of us making it out of here alive.”
Jaime studied you for a moment longer, his chest tightening again. He wanted to say something, to challenge your words, but the fatigue in your voice stopped him. You weren’t wrong, after all. Survival was all that mattered now.
“Wise words,” Jaime said finally, his tone softer but no less cutting. “But don’t think for a moment that survival comes without a price. It always does.”
The room fell silent then.
The steam of the bathhouse wrapped around them like a shroud, thick and suffocating, but Jaime hardly noticed. The heat barely dulled the gnawing pain in his arm, and the weight of his fever pressed heavier with every passing moment. He leaned against the edge of the bath, his breaths shallow, his smirk hanging on by a thread.
Brienne, ever the sentinel of honor, glared at him from her corner of the bath. Her face twisted with disgust as she finally broke the heavy silence.
“You’re nothing more than a Kingslayer,” she spat, her voice shaking with anger. “You speak of honor and duty as if you understand them, but all you’ve done is betray them. You broke your oath. You stabbed your king in the back.”
The word—Kingslayer—cut deeper than any blade. Jaime’s jaw tightened, his smirk faltering.
He turned his head slowly to look at her, his fevered eyes gleaming in the torchlight. “Do you think you know the whole story, Brienne?” His voice was soft but razor-sharp. “Do you think it’s that simple? That I killed him because I’m some honorless villain in your tale?”
Brienne didn’t flinch, but her lips pressed into a thin line. “You betrayed your vows,” she said coldly. “You took an oath to protect him, to serve him, and you—”
“I saved them all,” Jaime snapped, his voice rising. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness crashing over him, and he gripped the edge of the bath to steady himself.
You looked up sharply, the stiffness in your shoulders evident as you turned your gaze to him. Jaime’s breath hitched as your eyes lingered on his face, but he pressed on, unable to stop the words that spilled from him.
“Do you know what Aerys Targaryen was?” Jaime continued, his voice shaking now—not with fear, but with something deeper, something darker. “The Mad King. Do you know what he planned to do?”
Neither you nor Brienne spoke, but the silence was answer enough. Jaime’s chest heaved as he laughed bitterly. “He ordered his pyromancers to burn the city. All of it. Every man, woman, and child in King’s Landing. He told me to bring him my father’s head, and when I refused, he said he’d light the fires.”
His voice cracked as he leaned forward, his fever-bright eyes boring into Brienne’s. “So, tell me, Lady Brienne—should I have kept my vow? Should I have stood by and let him turn the city to ash? Should I have let him burn thousands alive to preserve my ‘honor’?”
The words hung heavy in the air, the steam swirling around them like smoke. Brienne’s face paled, her mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came.
Jaime sagged against the edge of the bath, his strength draining as his confession unraveled something inside him. “I killed him,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I plunged my sword into his back and watched him die because I had to. Because no one else would.”
His vision blurred, the fever clouding his mind as he slumped forward, his hand slipping from the bath’s edge. Before he could hit the water, your hands were there, catching him, holding him steady.
“Jaime,” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the haze.
He blinked, his head lolling as he tried to focus on you. Your touch was firm but careful, your hands gripping his shoulders as you eased him back against the edge of the bath. The heat of the water and the warmth of your hands blurred together, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.
Brienne’s voice broke the moment, sharp and panicked. “Guards! Guards!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
Jaime let out a weak laugh, though it sounded more like a cough. “Let them come,” he muttered, his voice slurred. “Let them hear the tale of the honorable Kingslayer.”
You ignored Brienne’s cries, your focus entirely on him. “Jaime, stop,” you said, your tone firm but not unkind. “You’re burning up. You need to calm down.”
His fevered eyes searched yours, something raw and unspoken passing between you. He hated how much he wanted this—your touch, your presence. He hated how it made him feel like he wasn’t entirely broken.
“I saved them,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “And they call me a traitor. They call me a monster.”
Your grip tightened slightly, your expression softening for the briefest moment. “You did what you had to,” you said quietly.
Jaime’s chest ached, not from the fever or the infection, but from the weight of your words. He wanted to believe you meant them, that there was something real in your voice, but he couldn’t let himself. Not now. Not ever.
As the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, Jaime closed his eyes, exhaustion finally overtaking him. Your hands remained steady, holding him upright as the steam swirled around you both.
And Jaime Lannister allowed himself to feel the smallest flicker of absolution.
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woozinhos · 1 day ago
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Can you write anything abt mingi pleaseee
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Non-Stop
Smut warning below: oral sex, fingering and more
Mingi has been feeling especially pent-up lately, and he can't seem to get you out of his mind. Every time he sees you, he feels a surge of desire, his body aching for your touch. He tries to distract himself with work or exercise, but nothing seems to help. His thoughts keep drifting back to you, and he finds himself getting more and more frustrated. One day, he finally decides to take action. He corners you in a quiet hallway, his eyes burning with desire.
"I need you," he growls, his voice low and urgent. "Right now."
You can feel the intensity of his gaze, the raw need in his eyes. He steps closer to you, trapping you against the wall with his body.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I need to feel you. I need to be inside you."
“Mingi baby not right now I’ve got things to do!” You say feeling sorry for him seeing how desperate he is.
Mingi's expression darkens at your response, frustration and desperation written all over his face.
"What do you mean, not now?" he asks, his voice tight with tension. "I've been going crazy all day thinking about you. I need this."
He moves even closer to you, his body pressing against yours as he cages you in against the wall.
“I’ve got things to do around the house!” You say.
Mingi's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching in frustration. He knows that you're right, that there are things to do around the house, but he doesn't care. All he can think about is his own needs.
"I don't care," he growls, his hands moving to grip your hips. "I need you now. I can't wait."
He tries to pull you closer, his body pressed against yours as he nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to push him away, but he's too strong. He holds you in place, his grip on your hips firm as he starts to kiss and nip at your neck.
"Mingi, seriously," you protest, trying to maintain your composure. "I really do have things to do."
He ignores your protests, his hands moving to wander over your body as he continues to lavish attention on your neck.
"They can wait," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "You're all I want right now."
Mingi's hands start to roam over your body, his touch growing more insistent as he tries to get you to give in. He nibbles on your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin.
"Please," he whispers, his voice rough with need. "Just a quickie. I'll be quick, I promise."
He moves his lips to your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he presses himself against you. Mingi watches as you bend down to pick up the laundry, his eyes roaming over your body with a hungry gaze. He can't help but admire the way your body moves, the way your muscles flex as you reach for the clothes.
"You're not playing fair," he growls, his voice low and rough. "Teasing me like this."
He takes a step closer to you, his hands itching to touch you again. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his arms, to continue what he started. You continue to ignore him, focusing on the task at hand as you fold the laundry. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with desire, but you try to remain unaffected. Mingi, on the other hand, is getting increasingly frustrated. He stands behind you, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.
"You're driving me crazy," he mutters, his voice laced with need. "Why are you being so stubborn?"
You turn around to face him, laundry basket in hand. You try to keep your expression neutral, but you can't help the way your eyes flicker down to his body.
"I told you, I have things to do," you say firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to finish this."
You move to walk past him, but he steps in front of you, blocking your path.
"No," he says, his voice firm. "You're not going anywhere until I get what I want."
Mingi's eyes narrow at your smirk, his expression darkening with a mixture of frustration and desire. He knows you're enjoying this, enjoying making him wait.
"Don't smirk at me like that," he growls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You know exactly what you're doing to me."
Mingi's eyes follow your every move as you bend down, his gaze fixated on your body. He can feel his control slipping, his need for you growing stronger with each passing second.
"You're such a tease," he mutters, his voice strained. "You're trying to drive me insane, aren't you?"
Mingi's breath hitches as you wiggle your ass in front of him, his eyes glued to the movement. He clenches his jaw, his body trembling with desire.
"You're going to regret teasing me like this," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not going to be able to hold back much longer."
"Oh, I'm counting on it," you say, your voice laced with a hint of challenge. "I want to see just how far you'll go."
Mingi's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and excitement. He knows that you're pushing his buttons, trying to get him to lose control. And it's working.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his voice husky with need. "And I'm going to make you pay for it."
Mingi picks you up and sets you down on the washing machine, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He positions himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours.
"You're going to pay for teasing me," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for mercy."
Mingi tears your shorts and panties off in one swift motion, his movements rough and impatient. He doesn't care about the fabric, his only focus on getting to you.
"No more teasing," he growls, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "I need you now."
Mingi wastes no time, his tongue immediately diving between your legs as he kneels in front of you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the washing machine as he begins to devour you. His tongue moves in quick, firm strokes, his lips wrapping around your sensitive flesh as he sucks and licks at you. He's lost in the taste and feel of you, his eyes closed in concentration as he works to bring you pleasure. You moan as Mingi's tongue moves over your clit, his mouth working expertly to drive you wild. He alternates between sucking and licking, his movements fast and intense.
"You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "I could do this all day."
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in your expression of pleasure. He loves seeing you like this, completely at his mercy. Mingi continues to eat you out, his tongue flicking and teasing at your clit. He knows exactly what you like, and he's not afraid to use it to his advantage. He can feel your body tensing up, your moans growing louder as you approach your climax. He doubles his efforts, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
"Come for me," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "I want to taste you when you fall apart."
Mingi is indeed skilled, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you pleasure. He knows how to touch you, how to tease you just right, and it's driving you wild. He can feel your body trembling, your moans becoming more and more desperate as he continues to work on you. He knows that you're close, and he's determined to make you come hard. You struggle to form words, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Mingi continues to work on you.
"Mingi," you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless. "Oh, god, I'm gonna come."
Mingi redoubles his efforts as he senses your impending orgasm, his tongue and lips moving even faster against you. He's determined to bring you over the edge, to make you scream his name in ecstasy. And then it happens. You come undone, your body shuddering as pleasure washes over you in waves. You cry out, your hands gripping the edge of the washing machine as you ride out your climax. Mingi groans in satisfaction, his tongue continuing to lap up your juices as he helps you through your orgasm.
Mingi doesn't stop when you come, his tongue continuing to work on you even as you try to catch your breath. He knows you're sensitive, but he doesn't care. He wants to keep going, to push you to your limit. He can feel your body twitching and trembling beneath his touch, your moans turning into whimpers as he continues to tease you.
"Mingi, please," you gasp, your voice hoarse from moaning. "I can't take it anymore."
Mingi smirks against your skin, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He knows that you're overwhelmed, that you're reaching your limit. But he doesn't care. He wants to push you further, to make you completely lose control.
"Yes, you can," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "You can take it for me."
Mingi adds his fingers to the mix, his tongue still working on your clit as he slowly slides two fingers inside of you. He curls them upwards, searching for that spot that he knows will drive you wild. You let out a high-pitched whine, your body arching off the washing machine as he begins to move his fingers in and out of you. He pumps them in and out at a steady pace, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he does so.
Mingi continues to work his fingers and tongue on you, his movements becoming more intense and demanding. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, your body responding to his touch despite the overstimulation. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in your disheveled state. Your hair is a mess, your skin flushed and sweaty. You're a complete mess, and he loves it.
"You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "So wrecked and helpless."
You can barely speak, your body trembling with pleasure as Mingi continues to drive you towards another orgasm. You can feel another wave of pleasure building inside of you, your muscles tensing up as you approach your limit. Mingi can sense it too, and he increases the pace of his fingers and tongue, determined to push you over the edge again. He's relentless, his movements precise and unyielding.
You're close, so close to coming again. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You're on the verge of breaking, your mind completely consumed by the pleasure Mingi is giving you. Mingi can feel you teetering on the edge, and he knows exactly what to do to push you over. He doubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink.
"Come for me again," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Let go, baby."
You scream as you come again, your body arching off the washing machine as pleasure courses through you. It's even more intense than the last one, your mind going completely blank as you ride out the waves of ecstasy. Mingi continues to work you through it, his tongue and fingers slowing down as he helps you come down from your high. He gently withdraws his fingers and stands up, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk.
"That's my girl," he says, his voice husky with desire. "You did so well for me."
Mingi smirks as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire. He slowly unzips his trousers, his movements deliberate and controlled.
"Are you ready for the main course now?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "I've been waiting to have you all to myself."
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sugawhaaa · 1 day ago
Text
🥀HAN ONE-SHOT🥀
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🍄•♡°[ trust me ]°♡•🍄
Warnings//genre:: SMUT! Mentions blood, Virginity loss, FLUFF, oral (f rec) fingering (f rec) handjob, body exploration, body worship, sm praise bro, protective hannie, protected sex,
Pairing:: SOFT!dom!Han x sub!virgin!fem!reader
A/N:: bro I wrote this in like...three hours but I think it's the best fanfic I have EVER written. Like he is so fucking sweet I wanna kiss him
Skz masterlist:: 💕
🎧::
Things between you and Han progressed surprisingly fast throughout your entire relationship thus far. You thought Han would like things to be slow paced but, once again, surprisingly he was the opposite. That's why you weren't overly shocked when he abruptly asked about having sex.
"I know this is kind of abrupt but we've been dating for a while so I was thinking maybe we could try..." He's very tense as he asks you, nervous to see your reaction. "Having sex? If you wanna," The way he asked made you feel so important somehow, like this wouldn't happen without your enthusatic consent.
"I mean I'd love to, but," You pause for a moment and Han looks intruiged, showing that you have all his attention. "I'm a virgin," You sigh and Han looks taken aback.
"Really?" There's a long pause as he processes what you said. "That is surprising..." He chuckles and you laugh at his comment. "I just thought, you know, you're so beautiful and attractive that some man must've approached you by this point," He explains and you shrug, not bothering to touch on the subject of other men. "I don't mind by the way! I could be your first, show you the ropes, and I'll be oh so gentle," He promises with a confident nod. "But I will wait until you are ready,"
"I never said I wasn't ready," You smile and he looks at you, wide-eyed, and his cheeks flushed.
"So...Do you wanna..?" He smirks, trying to contain his excitement. You nod and he smiles sincerely. "Okay, wow this is exciting okay," he chuckles nervously and shifts on the bed to face you. He takes your hands tenderly in his. "Are you sure?" He confirms and you nod.
"Absolutely," you smile and he blushes softly. "I can't think of another person I'd want to be my first, experiencing something like this with you has honestly been my dream, my fantasy, everything," you blush and look down as you confess your inner feelings. "I trust you," you keep eye contact with and he smiles sincerely.
"Thank you Y/N," he lifts your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. "Let's get you nice and comfortable first," Han gets you to stand up while he fixes the bed, making sure the sheets are flat without a single crease. He then turns the lights out before turning on the fairy lights in the room, creating dim and warm lighting for an intimate and romantic night. He then turns to face you again. "Now, shall we undress?" He smiles and you can't help but blush at his care for your first time, all his efforts to make you comfortable. "I'll start," he takes off his shirt and tosses it aside in the pile of laundry. He holds your hips and guides you to sit on the bed as he finishes undressing. "Should I go all the way or just to my boxers?" He smiles down at you and you giggle.
"Mmm all the way," you smirk slightly and he laughs.
"Alright my little minx," he kisses your forehead quickly before pulling down his sweatpants. You watch as the baggy fabric falls to reveal his toned legs, his thighs muscular from lots of training, but what draws your attention the most is the bulge in his boxers.
You had seen his bulge before, whether it was intentional or not. Almost every morning it's hard to keep your eyes off his crotch. "Do you wanna do the honors?" He offers and you blush, a little flustered by the offer but you can't deny that you want to. You hook your thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pull them down, watching his cock slip out of its confinement. Your face flushes as you see him for the first time, your lip subconsciously tucking between your teeth.
He rubs your head teasingly, ruffling your hair. "Like what you see?" He jokes and you huff at him. "I'm teasing," he caresses your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the squishy skin he loves so much. He then sits down beside you. "Would you like to...touch me a little or undress first?" He puts a hand to your back, offering comfort.
"I guess I'll undress a little," you nod and take off your shirt and pants, leaving you in your undergarments. You notice hans eyes chasing your breasts as you set your shirt aside.
"Fuck..." he mutters softly and it draws your attention. "Sorry, sorry," he puts his hands up in surrender as his cock follows suit, standing up. You chuckle softly, brushing him off.
"Don't apologize, I like it when you get flustered," you nod before your eyes flutter down to his length, standing proud and tall as it twitches against his stomach. "Is it okay if I touch you?" You bring your hand to hover over his most intimate area.
"Y-Yeah, of course, baby, I'm all yours," he leans back a little, his arms propped up behind him, exposing his cock to you. You hesitate before making contact with his cock. You can feel the throb of his heat, the silkiness of his skin, the wetness of his arousal, it's all so erotic and enticing. He moans softly, his head tossed and hair falling back, before chuckling softly. "Your hands are so soft...I've waited so long to feel you baby," he smiles blissfully as you continue to explore him.
You feel around his hardness, taking in the size and length of it, and watch it twitch in your palms. You then shift your hand into an O shape and slip his cock through the hole. He lets out a shaky breath before smiling. "That's good, yeah," he moans lowly, his voice raspy in pleasure. You felt your blood rushing at the sight of him like this, hearing his moans and praise got you so excited. He brings a hand up to your head, playing with your hair. "You're so good to me," his eyes fluttered shut in bliss. "Go a little faster, please," he chuckles in embarrassment at his request. "Fuck, yes like that," he praises as your hand moves faster, effortlessly gliding thanks to his precum.
You began to feel more bold and confident in your performance thanks to his praise and reactions. Before you know it his body is twitching and acting on its own. "Keep going," he encourages, gripping the sheets next to him hard. You weren't sure what else to do so you just kept jerking him off faster and faster until he started letting out these guttural groans. "Shit! I'm cumming baby," he cries out his head thrown all the way back as his back arches, his legs twitching slightly.
Cum spurts out onto your hands and a rush of excitement courses through you. The lewdness of feeling someone else's cum on your hands and seeing him reach such a high peak due to your ministrations was indescribably arousing.
Eventually, he calms down, his breathing evening out as he chuckles sincerely. "You did so fucking good babygirl," he holds the side of your face to kiss you deeply as a reward. At first, the kiss catches you off guard but you fall into it, bringing a cum coated hand up to his shoulder. Your tongues mingle and twist around each other as he leans in closer to you. He rubs your thigh softly with his free hand before pulling back, his hand still lingering. He looks up into your eyes and you can tell exactly what he'll ask next. "You ready?" He tilts his head, his fingers drawing closer to your panties.
"I'm ready, more than ready," you blush, the puddle of wetness in your panties now obvious. He throws your thighs around his waist and he picks you up. He sets you on the bed, laying back against the plush pillows he coordinated to support and comfort you. He gently helps you remove your undergarments, making sure you feel worshipped along the way.
"You have such perfect tits," he admires your breasts after removing your bra, gently cupping the soft flesh. "So soft," he kisses your nipple softly making you release a little squeak at the new sensation. After giving your tits a little attention he moves lower, giving tender kisses to your tummy. He peels off your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aside. You reflexively cross your legs, hiding your vulnerability. "Hey, hey, don't be shy now baby," he brings his hands to your knees, prying your legs open.
"I'm embarrassed," you admit and he stops, looking up at you sincerely.
"Why babygirl? I've been waiting for this for way too long," he whines and you chuckle softly.
"I just...I didn't shave or anything because I didn't know we'd be doing this anytime soon..." you explain and Han sighs, thinking of how to respond.
"Listen...I don't really care," he explains, instantly making your expression change. "If it makes you feel more comfortable to shave you go right ahead baby, but if you're shaving on my part or if you are simply embarrassed because you haven't shaved, don't," Jisung nods determinedly and you blush, a smile creeping upon your lips. "Now, can I please see this pretty pussy?" He looks up at you with lust-filled and desperate eyes. You nod with a smile and he smiles back, proud that you are now comfortable with him.
He pulls your legs apart to reveal your dripping cunt, he doesn't even pay mind to the curly hair there, more focused on the slickness of your folds. "Fuck baby," he moans before running a finger up your folds. "Look at this," he says in awe, loving the way you respond to him. "So wet, so cute," he brings his thumb up to your clit, rubbing little circles on it. "What do you want me to do babygirl? Finger you or eat you out?" He tilts his head, resting the side of his head against your inner thigh as he continues to play with your clit.
"Maybe...both?" You smirk playfully and he chuckles.
"Should've guessed huh?" He places a gentle kiss to your clit making you gasp softly. "Don't be afraid to pull my hair baby, I know you're gonna want to," he slithers a finger down to your slit, guiding it between your tight folds. "Deep breaths baby," he encourages, his words slightly muffled by your pussy. You nod and take in long breaths. His finger trails in deep, roaming around your insides, familiarizing himself with your tender spots.
He takes a long time, taking a lot of care into finding all those spots and paces you like before actually fingering you.
He curls to fingers simultaneously against that squishy spot that makes you squirm as his tongue flicks your clit but he takes a pause to speak. "If it's too much just tell me okay?" He quickly resumes his ministrations as you whimper and sob.
"O-Okay," you tug on his hair, the silver strands lacing around your fingers. You let out a loud whimper and blush at your own sounds, sounding so pathetic and lewd.
"Keep doing that, moan for me," he groans, getting lost in lust and falling drunk to your cunt. He fingers you faster, a bit harder as well, seeking more music to his ears. You finally cave in, embracing your lust and moaning into the quiet room.
"Jisung, I-I think..." you bite your lip, unsure of how to confess such a sensation.
"You getting close?" He finishes your statement for you and you nod, your lips quivering as your brows curl up. He sucks on your clit, the room filling with slurping sounds and the sound of your pussy sucking in his fingers. You feel this warmth trickling up your body as your head goes fuzzy, your body lightly twitching from the sensation. Your hips buck up reflexively and Han pulls you through the orgasm, drawing out every last strand of pleasure, before pulling back. "How was that?" He smiles and you're left panting, your head reeling.
"Fucking...insane..." you pant out and laugh softly, the rush of hormones making you feel above the clouds. He laughs at your fucked out state before kissing your forehead.
"Such a good little minx," he pats your hip softly, a form of praise. "Do you need a break or shall we keep moving?"
"I wanna keep going, I've never felt so good," you explain and Han creeps up closer to you, hovering above you.
"I'm so glad angel," he caresses your cheek. "I'm so glad I get to see you feel like this for the first time. The way your lips part, your body twitches, your eyes squinting shut, your little cries, they're everything to me," he rests his forehead against yours as he speaks softly. As he speaks you feel his cock nudging against your lower abdomen, hinting that he's growing impatient but he will always wait for you.
"Trust me Jisung, I wouldn't change a thing in my life as long as I got to be with you," you kiss him softly and he smiles bashfully.
"Please Y/N...let me please you," he reaches over to the nightstand, searching through the bottom drawer for a condom packet. He sits back on his knees, his cock standing up and front. He holds the packet between his teeth and tears it open, tossing the wrapper somewhere in the room, before rolling the condom on with ease. "It may hurt a little at first but I promise I'll take it slow," he lines his sealed cock up to your slit. "Ready?"
"Mhm," you nod, eagerly waiting for the impending sensation to take over you. He gently pushes his hips forward and the two of you moan in sync.
"Fuck," he curses as his cock makes it only about halfway through your pussy. "How are you doing?"
"It kinda hurts but I can push through," you nod, gripping his shoulders tight. He takes one of your hands, intertwining it with his.
"Squeeze it," he nods before pushing his hips forward again. You let out a cry, squeezing his hand hard as you feel him filling you up.
"Fuck," you curse loudly. "It hurts but it feels so fucking good," you throw your head back, your hand trembling as you squeeze his hand.
"Deep breaths babygirl," he then thrusts forward, his cock filling you up. You jump, back arched, at the sudden increase in intensity. "Shh, Shh, it's all in baby," he kisses your lower jaw softly. "You're doing so good," he rubs your thigh. At first, Jisung moves slowly, allowing you plenty of time to adjust, but the condom helps lube you up a lot and soothe the muscles. As soon as he begins to slowly thrust your head spins.
"Is it supposed to feel this intense," you chuckle as sweat builds along your forehead.
"I know it's a lot at first but trust me, I'll make you feel so good," he promises softly as his hips skillfully roll against yours. You claw at his back, your nails digging in as you fall to the overwhelming pleasure. You let out cracked moans and Jisung finds it hard to hold back, craving you more and more as he thrusts into you gently, but the he hears the most reassuring words he could possibly ask for in this situation.
"Faster~"
Your voice was soft, a quiet yet desperate plea and Jisung is not one to deny a lady of her wishes. He moves his hips faster, falling to his own lust. He thrusts harder, deeper, faster, all the things to make your head spin. Your body begins to shake as you let out squeals of incoherent lust and everything just comes pouring out of the two of you.
"Oh yes fuck baby!" He groans as he unloads into the condom, hips twitching into yours. The two of you ramble incoherent lewd words at the overwhelming pleasure before slowly coming down together. "So tight," he groans.
"Fuck Jisungie," your body goes limp against the bed, your body still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm. He pets your head sincerely, feeling the softness of the locks.
"You did so good," he breathes out. "I suppose I should pull out just in case," he chuckles before pulling out, you could hear your pussy clinging to him as he eased out. He removes the condom, tossing it in the bin next to your bed. "I'll throw that out properly later, way too fucked up right now. Besides I need to take care of you," he smiles before noticing the cum dripping out of your slit, a hue of pink in it, but you were unaware. "Um this is kind of awkward but just so you know you're bleeding a bit," he says as he sits up next to you, pulling you into his lap.
"Shit really? You think it's from my hymen?" You blush, hiding in his chest.
"Don't be embarrassed, and probably," he nods and you sigh. "Let's get you in the shower, kay?" He scoops you up in his arms and you gasp at how effortlessly he lifts you. "Maybe I can please you some more in there, hm?"
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sillymommy6969 · 2 days ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲UESS ᝰ! CHAPTER FIVE
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synopsis: katseye lucked out when their team managed to score a-list award-winning actress, y/n l/n to be featured in their upcoming music video for ‘touch’. when the cameras turn off and the doors close, lara feels a little more than just onscreen chemistry with her music video love interest.
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RIO wasn’t lying when she said she was speeding down the highway. You could hear her tires screech when she pulled into the driveway of your Californian home. Billie and Dom still weren’t here, but when Rio bursted through the door, she ran over to tackle you in her embrace. You, wrapped in a fluffy grey blanket with cleanex littered around you, laid in Yunjin’s arms. You felt your resolve crumple when you felt your friends give you a tight sandwiched squeeze.
“Oh, y/n, honey, what happened?” Rio asked, tucking your hair away from your eyes as you sniffed. You shook your head, teeth sinking into your lip. “Y’know what, I’ll go make you a cup of hot cocoa, yeah? I’ll heat up some milk for you to dunk one of these puppies in. How does that sound?”
Upon a silent nod from you, Rio hopped off the couch to leave for the kitchen. When she was no longer in earshot, Yunjin tilted her head, watching your expression carefully. Her lips parted, “I’m going to be very blunt and straightforward with you ‘cuz I respect you, y/n. Did you go see her after you came home from hanging out with Rio last night?”
You caught her eyes, nodding shamefully as you sighed. You threw your head into your hands, fingertips wiping away tears gushing from your eyes.
Yunjin nodded, pushing her lips. You appreciated her not beating around the bush, you hated when people try walking around the topic. Especially when it came to this topic. “I just—I know it’s stupid and I know it’s my fault for answering her, but when she said she loved me, it’s almost like I was a different person. I just wanted to see her again, one more time before I would actually end it for good, but it felt so good.”
Yunjin could see a hint of dark bruises peaking out the top of your cleavage. She knew Avantika never left marks where people could see, but she also knew she was a possessive, manipulative freak who loved acting she owned you.
“Walk me through it, babe. And don’t lie to me.” she warned.
You thought back on the events of last night. When you got her text again, the number made your heart drop. You were about to get into the shower, in your pjs and your hair undone. Your head warned you of the events that went down the last time you gave into her tempting. You remembered how you rushed home crying after, how your friends made you swear you would never let yourself do it again.
Which, obviously, didn’t work. You knew you screwed yourself over by breaking that promise. But you couldn’t be blamed, and Yunjin knew the fragility of your emotional attachment to your past was something you shouldn’t provoke.
“She texted me to come over and I did. I got out of my car, she was standing by her door, waiting for me so I let her do whatever she wanted when I walked up to her.” Your eyes fluttered shut at the recollection of the previous night, your lips quivering. “She kicked me out when we were done, I didn’t even get a goodbye. I’m sorry, Jen, I just-I didn’t know what I was thinking, I shouldn’t have gone back.”
You let yourself sob in Yunjin’s arms, as she brushed her fingers through your hair in comfort. She doesn’t say anything for a couple minutes, letting you catch your breath before you pulled away to wipe your tears away again.
“Look, y/n. She’s taking advantage of your feelings for her, just like she did so many times before you guys broke up. You need to remember why she wasn’t good for you in the first place.”
Before you could reply, your door’s thrusted open with a harsh thud. In came Billie, who yanked the beanie off her head and tossed it aside before coming to hop on the couch beside you. She grabbed your jaw, peppering the side of your face with comforting pecks before wrapping her arms around your neck. “Oh, babygirl, you’re so pretty when you cry, but you’re prettier when you’re smiling. Let me see that grin, eh?”
You grimaced at the cringe-worthy line, but you couldn’t resist the smile that cracked on your face.
Billie smirked, chuckling. “There it is, come on. Bring it in.”
You buried yourself into Billie, still snug in your blanket before Dominic sat down on the coffee table in front of you. He had his hands clasped together, his jaw locked tight. His tattoos twitched as he tried containing the obvious rage seeping through his features. “All you gotta do is say the word and I’ll go and make sure she never sees the light of day again.”
You reached out, grabbing his hands. “If you beat anybody up, especially a woman with a platform and legal team, you’ll be the one locked back up and never seeing the light of day.”
“I don’t care, she needs to mind her own fucking business.” he barked, “I promise you, y/n, if she sticks her nose back into your life again and I don’t fuck her up, I won’t forgive myself.”
You patted his whitening knuckles. “Okay. Thanks, Dom.”
Rio strode back into the room, cup of steaming milk in one hand and a cocoa bomb in the other. She gasped at the sudden arrival of the other two, settling beside Dom before handing you the mug. “Can’t believe you fuckers are having a party in here without me.” She blew on the cup, making sure you were careful with how you handled the heat. “I say we get fucked up and food coma ourselves with wingstop.”
Everybody groaned, slapping or hitting Rio with cushions as the girl held her arms up.
“Is that seriously all you think about, you big ass?” Yunjin teased, “You can’t stop thinking about good for like two seconds without dying of hunger?”
You chuckled, “Wingstop actually sounds good.”
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next. 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ masterlist.
taglist: @vivilvr @1luvkarina @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @lafortezalover @lararajjj @kristalag @meizinisnumberone @vrtualstar @artrizzler19 @arihiu @cassiespoiler @nyssalvr @hazel-tanthamore22 @kathleenmikaelson @taikabui @wtfisthisnoclueman @onlyyou-metanoia @yjiminswallet @firstclassjaylee @xochitlisbest @saysirhc @sunshinez4 @fruityg0rl @urmom2314 @cceanvvaves @bowforgodjihyo @blushmimi (taglist open!)
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emsdevs · 1 day ago
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Bear and Bug pt 2
a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON PART ONE I already love this little au so much so I love that y'all are loving it too! Again I'm more than happy to share my thoughts on Bear and Bug anytime! Enjoy pt 2 :)
Bear and Bug Masterlist
After Jack’s draft, the two of you decided to live up all the time you had left together that summer. Once again, you two were attached at the hip. It was rare to see one of you without the other. You spent your days out on the boat, at the golf course, or finding fun adventures to go on. You spent your nights partying, having game nights, or having a quiet movie night together, relaxing after an eventful day.
Meanwhile, Quinn was pushing down a hurt that he didn’t fully understand. He knew you’d be spending a lot of time with Jack this summer (he was your best friend after all), so why did he feel like he was being left behind? Was he just some sort of stand-in for when Jack wasn’t available? No. No way. You would never do that. You cared about the entire Hughes family way too much for that, so why didn’t that lift the heavy weight he was feeling in his stomach? Quinn spent those weeks growing more and more irritated each day, watching you and Jack having the time of your lives while he wondered where he stood with you. 
As the end of the summer neared and you would all have to return to the real world soon, your time with Jack instead became family time. Everyone deserved to spend time with Jack before he boarded a flight to New Jersey until the next summer. However, moments that should have been filled with happy family memories were ruined by Quinn’s sudden sharpness toward no one in particular. He had become incredibly snippy with everyone, mainly you, causing many arguments between the two of you in those last two weeks. 
You couldn’t understand it. The two of you had been so close, and you felt like there might have been something between you. Now all of a sudden, he was throwing insults at you that genuinely hurt your feelings a few times. It got to be too much, and you gave up, ignoring Quinn altogether. It hurt you to do it, but it felt like your only option. Everyone could sense the tension between the two of you. 
The summer ended with heartfelt goodbyes to most of the Hughes family. Gentle hugs for Ellen and Jim, and since Luke was apparently too cool for that now, he got a dap up and his hair ruffled (you couldn’t resist). You and Jack shared a longer hug, filled with encouragement for both of your life paths and promises to keep each other updated until June. Quinn, on the other hand, got an incredibly awkward wave from five feet away, complete with terribly hidden grimaces from the rest of the family. 
You all returned to your normal lives after that. Well, mostly normal. Jack was adjusting to the big leagues, and you’re feeling like you’re going through a breakup, even though you and Quinn were never even together. Still, it seems like such a great loss knowing how long the two of you have known one another. 
It was nearing the end of October the next time you saw Quinn. The Canucks had beaten the Red Wings in Detroit that night, and knowing there wouldn’t be practice the next day, Quinn knew this was his chance to close the distance between you. Late that night, he found himself standing outside of your dorm, remembering his mom saying something about you scoring the same one as last year. Before he could think too much about it, he knocked. Just as he began to debate walking away, the door slowly opened, revealing a very confused, and equally as angry, you. Quickly glancing around to check if anyone would see, you yank him into your dorm, grateful your roommate was at her boyfriend’s place that night. 
“Quinn, what are you doing here?” you sigh out.
“I needed to talk to you, Bug.”
“Oh, we’re still doing the nicknames? You were horrible to me those last few weeks of the summer,” you could feel the anger flaring up.
“Well maybe if you didn’t spend your whole summer kissing up to Jack, the rest of us could have been in better moods,” he shrugged, beginning to raise his voice as well. 
“You were the only one with a problem! And there’s no way you didn’t expect me to spend my summer with Jack when we all knew I’d be losing him to New Jersey in August!”
“Of course I knew you’d spend time with him! Excuse me for thinking you’d save some time for the rest of us too!” Quinn’s resolve was slipping, and he knew the truth would come out sooner rather than later.
“So you said all those mean things to me because you were jealous? Are you serious, Quinn? Do you know how much some of that hurt me?” Quinn could see the tears lining your eyes now.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to deal with these feelings,” his voice softened.
“What feelings? What do you mean?” your tone now matched his, and you were trying not to get your hopes up, still blinking back tears.
“You know,” he didn’t want to have to say it out loud.
“I don’t. I need you to tell me, Bear.”
“Look I know I never should have let it get this far, especially since you’re Jack’s best friend and I would never want to come between that, but I can’t help how I feel. You’re so engrained into everything I do now, Bug. Every part of my life, I see you in it. I don’t think you could ever understand what I feel for you, mainly because I’m not sure I do either, but what I do know is that, yes I was jealous of Jack. I was used to talking to you almost daily, to knowing every detail of your life, but summer hit, and suddenly I was in the background,” he took a breath.
“Bear you weren’t -” Quinn cut you off.
“Let me finish,” he waited for your nod. “I got in my own head, let myself think I was just some kind of understudy for when Jack wasn’t available. I know that’s not true, and I even knew that then. But this gnawing feeling wouldn’t go away, telling me that Jack would always be the better or more interesting sibling, whether I was the oldest or not. That’s why I got so snippy with everyone, not that that’s an excuse because no one deserved that, you the least. I just… I just think I might be falling in love with you, Bug, and I’m not sure I know how to handle that,” finally he finished, slowly looking your way, trying to gauge your reaction.
“You know I was waiting all summer for you to say that to me?” you started. “I was hoping you’d pull me aside, tell me that you felt the same way about me that I feel about you. I guess that’s kinda on me though because I did spend a ton of time with Jack, so I understand that you might have felt like I didn’t actually need you or that you wouldn’t have a chance to tell me. Either way, though, I can’t completely look past the way you treated me at the end of the summer. I seriously hope you know none of those things you thought were true. You will always, always be important and interesting, if not to anyone else then to me. I think… I’m falling for you too, Bear, but you’ve got a lot to make up for.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to. I just need you back,” he let out a shuddered sigh.
“We’ll work on it together. Okay, Bear?”
“Okay, Bug.”
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billysgirllol · 2 days ago
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"alright, i'll trust you with it." he's been so gentle with her hair, so she gives his forearm a pat and believes he'll do the same with her precious mama's dress. how kind of him too... to promise. "alright, mr. hair stylist." a little laugh dances out of her throat, doe eyes watching him get up and go over to the bed. "that's the best part about a covey... the more unique it is, the more special it is." lucy gray points out, sweetly smiling. "well, you ought to be careful there. don't go horse playin' around like that..." creating puns causing her to laugh as she watches him playfully stumble around with his eyes covered. "you're actin' like i showed somethin' already. if you need me to, i can just show you if you need schooled on female anatomy lessons." he clearly isn't the type to take her up on things like that, which is why she's saying it. just to provoke a shy look out of him again.
"no, believe me billy, you're entitled to your own opinion. i don't blame you for not agreein' with me at all. i don't even know if i agree with myself when there were moments coriolanus seemed as nice as you, i think he could have just been fakin' it the entire time. he's great at manipulation. but it sure is a mystery if all he was– was stuck up as a little one. then, all grown up he turned so cruel, selfish and dead on inside. maybe somethin' switched... between a father like that and the loss of your mother, somewhere between there. but it just hurts when someone betrays you. i felt he betrayed me when he lied to me about how many people i asked that he killed, two were valid. but the third... guess i'll never know. he betrayed me pretendin' he was coming along with me to live in the wilderness and the entire time, he was just lookin' out for himself. he betrayed me tryin' to kill me. it's the lord's work to take me outta the world, not him." angrily she spoke, and she truly feels sad for coriolanus and his soul. "he might not been born evil, but he was absolutely born with somethin' rotten. i'd never try to kill no one i hated– let alone cared for."
flinching in the slightest, but her hand comes up to keep his hand in place. she doesn’t want him to remove it. she wants to embrace a kind touch, feel it, as she turns hand over to feel his fingers against her skin. eyes watering, lower lip curving upwards, before affectionately nuzzling into his palm. it makes her deeply emotional. the kind touch, embracing she can’t always be scared of touch, the reassurance, the horrible conversation and ideas that someone she cared for would want to kill her. essentially, twice. because billy taupe nearly sent her to her grave getting involved with mayfair who sent her to the hunger games.
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“of course, i will, lucy gray.” there’s something so childlike and heartbreaking about her constant disbelief, this need for reassurance that he just wants to do something for her out of the goodness of his heart and not because he’s trying to gain her trust and lure her into a trap. “and i’ll be as gentle as i can be. i won’t tear a single ruffle. promise.” his hands might be calloused and rough most of the time, but around her and her possessions, he turns soft. delicate. even now, he’s touching her as though she was made of glass and could break if he as much as breathed near her. “think we got most of the tangles out. let me just grab that brush.” he gets up, wiping his hands on his pants and gathering the sticks that are still laying on the bed near reva blue. he hopes to make her laugh and throws his forearm over his eyes on his way back to her, walking funny and pretending to stumble a few times before plopping down in the chair. “i ain’t lookin’. i wasn’t lookin’,” he announces, not that he could see anything even if he was some creep and wanted to take a peek. “some unique covey we are. a birdie, a giant and miss reva blue the amputee.” he loves the sound of her laugh so very much. he just wants her to keep laughing like this. “feels all wrong, like i’ll be pryin’ into your private thoughts and all that. i’d rather you show ‘em to me when you feel like it.” feels less illegal that way. 
“he wasn’t an awful child, you know? back when our ma was alive, before the war… we had our differences, coriolanus and i, but he wasn’t evil. he didn’t go ‘round settin’ houses on fire or torturin’ other people’s pets. he wasn’t even a bad big brother, believe it or not. yeah, he always corrected and lectured me when i’d call our grandmother ‘granny’ or ‘nan’, and rolled his eyes when i said ‘ma’, but… when we had nothin’ to eat, he always shared with me what little he scavenged. that’s why i don’t think he was born evil. that’s why it’s so hard for me to understand why he first gave you our mother’s scarf, it must have been so precious to him, and then pointed a gun at you. the person you’re describin’, killin’ people and lyin’… that’s our father. not coriolanus.” but it’s been a while since the last time he spoke to his brother. things have changed. clearly. analyzing his words, billy quickly adds, “i’m not sayin’ that i don’t believe you, lucy gray. i believe your every word. but he really wasn’t a terrible child, that’s all i’m sayin’. annoyin’? yeah. evil? i don’t think so.” for a moment, the same exact thoughts come to billy, making him wonder what he would do if he had to choose between his brother and this girl. he’s never shot a man, let alone his own blood. but he would stop at nothing to protect her so… god, it’s making him nauseous. “three people?” he won’t ask for names, but it sends shivers down his spine. would their father murder their mother if she became a threat to his success? probably… “i once read a poem and there was this line, something like, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. how you shouldn’t dwell on things that didn’t happen,” he pauses, gently brushing her hair with the makeshift brush, “but could have been. but how can we not, right? maybe he’ll come to his senses one day.” though, there’s a part of billy that sincerely doubts that.
“it’s crazy how similar he is to our father. once you got on our father’s bad side, there was no goin’ back to bein’ friends with him.” but coriolanus didn’t just inherit their father’s genes. what about the parts that he got from their mother? he doesn’t know how to feel about any of this. all he knows is that he feels sorry for lucy gray. she’s been through hell and back. “i think it’s too late for that. i’m already involved. i don’t want to look away or hide under the bed if something bad happens.” she told him that he could be part of her covey. it’s not like he’ll just walk out the door and pretend not to know her if someone finds them. “i won’t leave your side. i’ll always keep you safe.” as she turns to look at him, he uses the back of his fingers to gently stroke her cheek, a sweet smile dancing on his lips. “the unknown is the worst thing, but we have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. that’s how we outsmart anyone. we need a plan for every situation. and we need to trust each other. but if i’m being honest… i don’t see him comin’ back here to try and find you. i mean, can you picture that? coriolanus willingly wandering out into the wilderness to look for the girl he most likely shot dead months ago?”  
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