#letters filled with imagines

[canthandlethishit]

Batfam’s handwriting headcanons!!

Alfred (right handed): cursive, normally neat and kind of flowery calligraphic(?) (he usually write the gala, party invitations for worthy guests himself), his notes are written just as neat but the letters are more narrow and tilted to the right.

Brucie (left handed): writes in cursive, bubbly letters, flowery, extravagant with endless numbers of loops and stems, big flourishes (picture light yagami writing) watching him write is a performance itself (near impossible to read, looks like an art piece from afar)

Bruce (self-trained ambidextrous, favors his left though is equally efficient with both hands): rounded print (for notes in reports), and cursive (for personal writings), he’d had some influence from alfred so theres a little extra in his writing like an extra curve, stem (ie: his i’s & t’s got lil hooks, his v as a downward stem at the end), but its overall quite minimalistic and tidy, there’s sufficient force on the paper.

Batman: doesn’t write >:( computer <- duh (if he really has to like idk the riddler forces him to write sth he would in caps block letters very strong straight lines, almost like excessively forced and he also place his pinkie on the pen/pencil to further deter identification, he switches hands every time to keep people off-track)

Dick (trained ambidextrous, favors his right, naturally right-handed until robin): cursive quick and kind of messy but still eligible writing, he’s used to taking quick notes (cop job), his letters are jaded, pointed (ie: his b’s are written like music notes, not rounded). he uses average force when writing (dents the paper but not through multiple pages), his letters’ spacing are nonexistent they overlap a bit, his words narrowly apart.

Jason (circumstantial ambidextrous, favors his right, his left handwriting is still neat, not as pretty as his right’s): cursive, his handwriting experienced several metamorphosis, he was left handed by birth & mother’s teachings, then at school he was taught write right-handedly. His writing was somewhat neat minimally scratchy, letters joined with loops, generous spacing. during his time with bruce he copies writing styles from his favorite authors (look up Jane Austen), Alfred and ends up with a very distinct, tilted to the right, beautiful scripture, some loops (Mary Shelly), long y’s and consonants. Post-death, he still got a nice handwriting, just less of the pizazz, the flare of personality bleeding through ink, its more tamed, still slanted, he doesn’t take as much care to force distribution (calligraphic way) but it just became more subtle, not completely gone.

Cass (ambidextrous, writes left handed): print, when first asked which hand she’d like to learn to write with she chose left, she didn’t learn to write ambidextrously. clean yet a bit weirdly spaced, she dots her i’s and cross her t’s after whole sentences. She likes making capital first letters of her text flowery like brucie’s, its amusing how out of place it looks.

Tim (self-trained ambidextrous, born left handed, writes with both hands interchangeably): cursive, young tim researched on lots of encryption, alternative writing systems. he take notes in shorthand’s, his handwriting is fairly eligible but frequently misses letters from words (ie: handwriting -> hdwritig). his lines are slanted downwards, narrow spacing overall.

Steph (trained ambidextrous, writes right handed, batman’s ambidexterity training for her hadn’t reached handwritings): mixed, her handwriting alternates between really messy and scratchy and more eligible curvy with sharp ends to her words (when writing lift pen up fast, bigger hand movement, picture a tame and hinged light yagami). Her lines tilt upwards from left to right. her writing’s eligibility depends on her mood, what she is writing.

Duke (right handed, trained ambidexterity but opted out of handwriting training): mixed, his letters are rounded and evenly spaced, fairly neat but scrawls when he’s in a rush (makes more sharp loops, longer curls at the ends, more connected words). his letter have thin loops, sometimes subconsciously dots his i’s with crescents. his lines tilt upwards slightly in the middle (he prefer to keep his lines straight so he take notice and fixes them).

Damian (natural ambidextrous, favors his left for arabic and his right for english): cursive, strong neat strokes, clean writing, clear appropriate spacing. its almost a font, print-like from how consistently he writes. His signature on his arts is more rounded with a bit of lilts and curves (the end of his m curve like the symbol for scorpio zodiac sign). His personal diary/journal writing is softer, his paragraphs more densely packed, the first letter of each entry are more ornate than the rest (loops, curves, tiny doodles)

note: handwriting style main variety are these

these headcanons are based on handwritings of people in my life & myself :)! not based on graphology (during my search for specific adjectives and vocabularies i came across some graphology & writing analysis articles and found them to be kind of mean & biased, rude etc so just clarifying im basing these hcs on my friends and family’s)

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[batri-jopa]

And Then We Danced / და ჩვენ ვიცეკვეთ (2019), dir. Levan Akin

#ATWD amateur guidebook

Soundtrack & Lyrics - Part 5 [go to: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4]

[Note: Most of this film music corresponds with what's happening on the screen. The less characters are speaking - the more traditional folk tunes take their turn in commenting the events. Old songs are fitting so good that the story becomes universal "tale as old as time". Lyrics translation usually comes from Google Translator and is absolutely awful but I don't speak Georgian so what else could I do]

21. ბინდისფერია სოფელი (Bindis Feria Sofeli)

The village is gradually getting darker What is our life will fly away like a bird Someday the grass will grow on our village

Even those who thought it was hard to walk were briefly looked after. The rust of the gun will eat the rust of the earth, the heart of the man will be sad. Death will come invisible, he will throw away his weapon in a second. What we will take to the world, no one else has taken what.

[The part above is what you can hear in the movie. Below is the part that is not in the movie but I suppose is well known to Georgian audience]

I will recite the poem to you and it will be good for me to die And you will remain here as a memory of me They used to tell me that they were just like me Let the country rejoice and I die in the grave Those who are right like me will listen to the voice of panduri Don't fall apart, don't get married

[Note: 1. Lyrics I found at genius.com 2. It's worth to realize that this is one of the moments in the movie with very distinctive contrast of mood between music and the movie scene: we can see a theoretically joyfull wedding scene and Merabi's face changing from numb to overhelmed with joy - yet the song in the background speaks about death and its inevitability. Is this contrast meant to only emphasize that the wedding is actually not so joyful since it's for "saving girl's honour"? Or that Merabi's feelings are closer to grief than joy? But even when his face changes, the song keeps on going - is that to suggest that love and hope is stronger than the vision of death? or rather that this love is hopeless? You decide (Anyway - Sunrise Sunset this ain't...)]

ბინდისფერია სოფელი თანდათან უფრო ბინდდება რა არის ჩვენი სიცოცხლე ჩიტივით გაგვიფრინდება ჩვენს ნასახლარზე ოდესღაც ბალახი აბიბინდება

იმასაც მოკლედ უვლია ვინც გძლად ეგონა იარა თოფს ჟანგი შესჭამს ჟანგს მიწა, კაცის გულს დარდი იარა, მოვა სიკვდილი უჩინო, ერთ წამში აგვყრის იარაღას ჩვენ რას წავიღებთ იმქვეყნად, სხვას არა წაუღია რა.

ლექსო ამოგთქომ ოხერო თორო იქნება ვკვდებოდე, და შენ კი ჩემად სახსოვრად სააქაოსა რჩებოდე, მოსთქომდნენ ჩემებ სწორები ფანდურის ხმაზედ ჰყვებოდნენ, ქვეყანა მხიარულობდეს და მე საფლავში ვკვდებოდე, მოსთქომენ ჩემებ სწორები, ფანდურის ხმასა ჰყვებოდნენ, სახლო არ დაინგრეოდე, ცოლო არ გასთხოვდებოდე.

22. Qalaquri 1 & 2

[Note: the title means "urban" but I have no idea what exact song (songs) were used in a movie. I can hear them but I can't understand a thing so I can't tell how much important this might be. IF YOU'RE GEORGIAN AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE SONG IS ABOUT - I WOULD LOVE YOU TO TELL ME!❤️ - The song is at 1h 28min of this Facebook reel)

23. განდაგანა (Gandagana)

(for the meaning - read Note below)

[Note: this time I don't think it's wise to pay attention to literal translation of Gandagana because this song seems to have much more metaphorical meaning in this particular movie scene than in any other before. That kind of direct "translation" you can find at lyricstranslate.com but these sentences doesn't seem to make much deeper sense for the average outside-Georgia viewer. Better check out these interpretations below (and note that the exact moment the "Tarnanani ninano" can be heard in the movie is right before Merab's "Congratulations"):

1. according to this page: "Gandagana" is a traditional Georgian folk song about love and longing. The lyrics tell the story of two lovers who can't be together due to their families, so they express their emotions through longing and sadness. The chorus repeats the words "Tarnanani ninano" which can be roughly translated to mean "Forever we will be apart." The song reflects the difficulty of love in a time where young lovers were not always able to choose their partners, and the pain and sorrow of having to separate.

2. Overall Meaning - according to this source: The song seems to explore themes of love, longing, and the complexities of relationships. The opening lines, "Gogov gogov kiskisa, Ak chamodi tsklis pirsa, Tskali masvi kokita, Gamadzgeni kocnita," can be loosely translated as "Go, go, dear little one, Like a flame, you ignite my soul, Like a thunderstorm, you strike me." These lines express the intense and passionate nature of the relationship being described. It suggests that the presence of the beloved person has a powerful impact on the singer, evoking feelings of excitement and desire. The following lines, "Tarnanani ninano, Tskals napoti Cmaohkonda," continue the exploration of love and longing. "Tarnanani" is a word that can be interpreted as a yearning or longing, while "napoti" means a missing or longing. So, the phrase could convey a sense of the singer's deep yearning for their loved one. "Cmaohkonda" might refer to a specific place or a metaphorical state representing the separation or distance between the two individuals. The later verses delve into the complexities of the relationship, describing emotional challenges and the struggle to find balance. Lines like "Kibis uku debelio, Me ikedan verçamoval" suggest that there might be a conflict or imbalance in the love affair. The lyrics also touch upon the physical and intimate aspects of the relationship, with phrases like "Baxçaşi rom pipinebdi, Pancridan diginaxeo" depicting a sense of affection and desire. Overall, "Gandagana" captures the intense emotions and complexities that can be experienced in a passionate relationship, expressing longing, desire, and the challenges that come with it.

The lyrics comes from lyricstranslate.com

გოგოვ გოგოვ ქისქისა აქ ჭამოდი წქლის ფირსა წქალი მასვი ქოქითა გამაძგენი ქოცნითა

თარნანანი ნინანო

წქალს ნაფოთი ცმაოჰქონდა ალვისი ხის ცამონა თვალი დადექ ნაფოთომიამბე საჲვარლის სემონათვალი

ნალიაზე მე ვერ ევალ ქიბის უქუ დებელიო მე იქედან ვერჭამოვალ შენზე ჩუუხუთებელიო

თაროზე მაქვს ხუთი ვაშლი სამი შენ შიგინახეო ბახჭაში რომ ფიფინებდი ფანცრიდან დიგინახეო

24. ცანგალა და გოგონა (Tsangala Da Gogona)

Tsangala and girl Tsangala.. girl (2)

Tsangala went to the city, And stole grape from there, He didn't share grape with anybody, And digged grave for himself (ashamed himself)

Tsangala and girl Tsangala.. girl (2)

This guy dances well, He stands on halluces, If he hurts his legs, whose fault will it be?

Tsangala and girl Tsangala.. girl (2)

[Note: 1. This song is even more contrasting to the movie scene than the song during wedding scene - Tsangala song is considered really joyfull and most people are dancing and having fun while our character falls into pieces. Could there be any better way to emphasize how lonely and separated Merab feels in his grief? 2. Lyrics was found at lyricstranslate.com ]

..ცანგალა და გოგონა-ა ცანგალა გოგონა-ა (2)

გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგონაა გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგო გოგნი გოგნი გოგონა

ცანგალა ქალაქს წავიდა ყურძენი მოიპარა ყურძენი თვითონ შეჭამა საფლავი გაითხარა

..ცანგალა და გოგონა-ა ცანგალა გოგონა-ა (2)

გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგონაა გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგო გოგნი გოგნი გოგონა

ეს ბიჭი კარგად თამაშობს ფეხის წვერებზე დგებაა ამან რომ რამე იტკინოს გოგონას დაბრალდება

..ცანგალა და გოგონა-ა ცანგალა გოგონა-ა (2)

გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგონაა გოგნი გოგნი გოგნი გოგო გოგნი გოგნი გოგონა

25. წინწყარო (Tsintskaro)

I walked by Tsintskaro, Tsintskaro... I met a beautiful woman there, with koka (a jug / picher) on her shoulder. I spoke a word to her and she got offended, got enraged, stepped aside / ran away! (By other translation: kept standing aloof )

[Note: this song was already heard sooner in the movie (morning after Merab's and Irakli's first night) and described in the Part 2. (Special thanks to @notasapleasure for helping me identify that it's the same song)

This time Davit initiates the song right after returing home from his wedding and Merab quietly starts to sing along. It seems to comfort him somehow. Is only the beloved traditional polyphonic song that is comforting or the memory it brings?

I think that, together with the fact that Merab decided not to throw down the Spirited Away poster (the one that got commented by Irakli) as he did with the rest of the posters on his wall - indicates that he still wants to think about Irakli. I think it might suggest that he wants to keep warm memory about him even after giving back the ear-ring (and I'm mentioning it because I've seen some reviews interpreting the ear-ring scene as "it's over", letting go, Merab deciding that he discovered and accepted his own self and doesn't need Irakli anymore. I think that yes, maybe his approach was to be seen as taugh and proud in the eyes of his leaving lover, but it does not necessarily reflect what he really felt nor how hard giving that ring back was for him). Now all that is left is Spirited Away poster. And Tsintskaro.]

X. Final dance

[No words, only mood]

26. რა ლამაზია თუშეთი (Ra Lamazia Tusheti)

"How beautiful is Tusheti/Georgia"

How beautiful Tusheti and Lasharoba Tushur are, with twisted horns and a forehead with a candle.

There is a curvy son and a woman crouching on the slope, the water of the wild Alazni singing in the Ewes.

Drinking cold beer with the horn of a stall, barbecuing naked on the fire, fingers dancing on the harmonica of a Tush woman.

I close my eyes, I can still see the necks of the horses and the wolf-clad shepherd boys in the horse's harness.

The blue-dressed pines stand like a bride, I love Dartlo and Chigo mountain, I burn them with love.

How good was Tusheti and Lasharoba Tushur, Chedila with twisted horns, forehead with a candle.

Grilled barbecues cooked on ghadar

[Note: 1. The translation is awful because I could only use google-translator. But the general meaning undoubtly is "How beautiful is Georgia". And I think that's another of the series of music contrasting the movie action. The end of the movie rather leaves us with a feeling of "how untollerant" Georgia is, so the song seems a bit ironical. But let's not forget that Merab actually loves his country and its culture, dances and food... so maybe it's not ironical at all? Georgia is beautiful and young people wish they could love their country freely and not have to plan leaving it for their safety 2. Lyrics source is lyricstranlate.com ]

"რა ლამაზია თუშეთი"

რა ლამაზია თუშეთი და ლაშარობა თუშური, რქებჩაგრე��ილი ჭედილა სანთლით შუბლგადატრუსული. ფერდობზე ჩამწკრივებული კოხტა ვაჟი და ქალია, ევებში ამღერებული შმაგი ალაზნის წყალია. ჯიხვის რქით ცივი ლუდის სმა, ცეცხლზე შიშხინი მწვადისა, გარმონზე აცეკვებული თითები თუშის ქალისა.

თვალებს დავხუჭავ, კვლავ მოსჩანს სადოღე ცხენთა კისრები და ქორბეღელას ფერხულში მგლისმუხლა მწყემსი ბიჭები. პატარძალივით დამდგარან ლურჯკაბიანი ფიჭვები, მიყვარს დართლო და ჩიღოს მთა, მათ სიყვარულით ვიწვები. რა კარგი იყო თუშეთი და ლაშარობა თუშური, რქებჩაგრეხილი ჭედილა, სანთლით შუბლგადატუსული. ცვარმოდებული მწვადები ღადარზე გამოშუშული

27. Kinto's Song

I don't know what to do anymore I don't know what to do anymore I have only one heart How can I divide the two? Muhammad and Abdul too I swear to love Both of them fall in love How will it be? One promised me a scarf for love The other one kills himself for my sake I like you both What can I do, what do you want? Love to both Tell me how to separate you Muhammad and Abdul Don't bother me like that my heart and love I am only changing one One promised me a scarf for love The other one kills himself for my sake

[Note: 1. Kintauri and Kinto's culture is so important in the movie I already made SEPARATE POST ABOUT IT and the whole separate tag: #ATWD kintouri trail . To summarise it: kinto were street fruit sellers in Tbilisi in early 20th century, with characteristic clothes and dance (kintouri) and many of them were gay men (though this fact is many times ommited in georgian sources). The "Kinto's song" was found on old x-ray record and it also tells about gay love. This all brings important context to the fact that Merab and Irakli became dance partners of kintouri duo and were dancing parts of this particular dance throughout the whole movie. 2. Once again the translation comes from google-translator and the lyrics from marketer.ge )

აღარ ვიცი რა ვქნა მე აღარ ვიცი რა ვუყო გული მხოლოდ ერთი მაქვს ორს კი როგორ გავუყო მუჰამედ და აბდულიც სიყვარულს მეფიცება ორივეს შეყვარება აბა როგორ იქნება ერთმა შარფი დამპირდა სიყვარულისთვის მეორე კი თავს იკლავს

ჩემი გულისთვის მე ორივე მომწონხართ აბა რა ვქნა, რა გიყოთ სიყვარული ორივეს მითხარ, როგორ გაგიყოთ მუჰამედ და აბდული ასე ნუღა მაწვალებთ ჩემს გულს და სიყვარულს მხოლოდ ერთს ვანაცვალებ ერთმა შარფი დამპირდა სიყვარულისთვის მეორე კი თავს იკლავს ჩემი გულისთვის

28. ბაღში გაგიცან (Baghshi Gagitsan)

I met you in the garden for the first time, I looked at the moon Your throat was like white wine in a glass I looked at it and couldn't stand those twinkling eyes The twinkling light of your eyes turned into a light

Are you born of your mother or are you a fairy flying from the sky? What pen wrote the eyebrows of your eyes If you ordered me, you know what I would do for you I would move the place where you were born to my house

I would like to know, beautiful, where you are staying In which region does such a good fruit grow? If you ordered me, you know what I would do for you I would move the place where you were born to my house

[Note: 1. As crucial as this song is for the whole And Then We Danced movie I was able not find any good translation of this lyrics that would sound satisfying enough. But I have no doubts that the first verse of this song is directly reffering to Merab and Irakli meeting behind the kvevri in the vineyard!❤️ If not for the fact that the crucial scene is left without music - one might imagine this song to be a perfect background music. Could it be another example of following contrasts in the movie? Love scene between boy and girl might openly refer to a traditional song - but for our boys the song is only secretly suggested in end credits... 2. Source of the lyrics was tsutisopeli.com and archives from alazani.ge ]

ბაღში გაგიცან პირველად

ბაღში გაგიცან პირველად თვალი შეგავლე მთვარესა ყელი გიგავდა ალალ ღვინოს ჭიქაში მდგომიარესა ვერ მოვითმინე, ვერ შევხედე მაგ მოციმციმე თვალებსა შენი თვალების ციმციმი შუქად ეფინა არესა

დედაის ნაშობი ხარ თუ ცით მოფრენილი ფერია შენი თვალების წარბები რა კალამს დაუწერია რომ მიბრძანებდე მე შენთვის იცი რას გადავიტანდი იმ ადგილს რამანც შენ გშობა ჩემს სახლში გადავიტანდი

ნეტავ ვიცოდე ლამაზო სად არის შენი სამყოფი რომელ მხარეში იზრდება ასეთი კარგი ნაყოფი რომ მიბრძანებდე მე შენთვის იცი რას გადავიტანდი იმ ადგილს რამანც შენ გშობა ჩემს შახლში გადავიტანდი

-------------- go to Prologue ---------------

--------------- go to Part 1 ------------------

--------------- go to Part 2 ------------------

--------------- go to Part 3 ------------------

--------------- go to Part 4 ------------------

[softskiesahead]

do you think any of your fos try to help fill that empty teacup for you however they can

hi . hello. I am much to fragile to hear this today I will cry

[liamthemailman]

i made a stupid shirt with my buddy last night, figured you'd like it <33

(the pink part is, oh so glittery)

GAH! THIS IS SO FUNNY?? HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM???? THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I OPENED THIS ASK HSDGHAGD

rest assured that this shirt will now live rent free in my head 4ever thank you so much for sharing this with me HSGDBA i love the pink letters it looks so pretty

fyi this shirt with this shorts is THE fit

[milky-fixx]

A letter is delivered to you from the port of Venice. The envelope is torn in places, waterlogged from the trip. The letter itself is scrawled hastily, as if the person was racing against time to get to you. Still, their handwriting is bold, as if determined to leave an impression.

[text:

Hey!

I really might die this time, you know? And I'll pass onto the next life not having even gotten a kiss from you. So pucker up those lips, baby—Ow, Caesar, ow! Watch it. That damned Italian and his bubble gun, telling me to hurry things up.

I can't believe what a damned mess I've gotten myself in—and all over a stupid little ring! Gah. Remind me never to get married. Well, if I make it out of this. This is the last time I'm agreeing to a proposal from just any stranger!

Look, I can't tell you this in person because I... well, because I'm out of time. I'm hoping this gets to you in time. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that I want you...

To—to keep my clacker balls, should anything happen to me. I want you to treat them delicately, as if they were my own balls! Ha! Could you imagine that? Ah, perhaps metaphorically. Not my actual balls. Not certain you would treat those kindly.

Agh, Caesar is telling me I'm wasting time. As if he understands how difficult this is... Look, what I actually want to tell you is...

Crap. I've got to go.

Catch you later, I'd hope.

Yours,

Jo—]

[don't read the tags if you want to guess who it is!]

[homosociallyyours]

I wasn't on yesterday so idk what if anything is being said about it, but i just saw a story about Zayn and Selena G making out in a restaurant and I immediately thought about Niall and had myself a lil giggle

[dexaroth]

also ive been thinking. i always saw 'dex' as like a standalone nome and it only ocurred to me like recently-ish that it was the short version of dexter and idk its sort of growing on me. i kind of feel like a dexter. i think ppl irl would be like 'of course they have a weird name' whenever they saw me clumsily walking to my appointment n stuff. its also distinct enough to be easily recognized when im unfocused but has the drawback of being way further up alphabetically and such would force me to present those dumb college group projects earlier -_- ive had classes with a whopping 3 G names and even 2 ppl with the same name as me, sometimes that lead to there being so many ppl in front of me and the project needing at least 5 minutes to present that i got to do it on the next week just bcuz of name alone. im gonna miss that lol

also i have this fateful feeling that there will be a big potential of like. consequences to the name. i can imagine some ppl comparing me to the guy from dexter's laboratory but theres gotta be some more opportunities like that that i just cant conceive. ofc ive always had a name that has a big humiliating joke potential along the lines of having Dick as your first name but somehow i guess the school i was raised at or the ppl there just didnt do it to me or did it behind my back, i dunno. ive heard it from my mom but no one ever used it directly i was just constantly ridiculed by my weight instead by random 7yos which like yeah thats miles easier but itneresting i guess

[floral-hex]

going through old letters and cards today to see what I can throw away, mail I received when I lived in New York and never remembered to go through again until now, and I kept finding a) old school photos of my brothers, & b) letters my youngest brother wrote to me while I lived away from home, and… oof. I’m glad no one was around because I criiiiiiieeeeed so hard. Had to step away for awhile.

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.

his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.

but oh, how good does it feel.

how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.

you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.

what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.

a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.

as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.

suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.

he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.

the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.

with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.

the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.

you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.

before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.

finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.

you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.

for later.

suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.

when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.

and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.

"can— can i kiss you?"

your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.

"of course, sweetheart."

you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.

delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.

so you push through.

suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"

burns, it burns.

your skin burns.

"no..."

and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.

"no?"

a tease.

a shake of your head.

a searing kiss. a touch of love.

[pete-the-cat]

I hate this shit app i search origami, the first thing I see is a towl folded into a d ck. This app is a despicable hell fire

[yueebby]

how i met your mother  — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it

notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!

“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 

just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.

this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.

“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.

the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 

nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.

you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 

“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 

“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 

2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech

meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo

that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 

the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.

a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.

“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.

“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.

another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 

“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.

a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.

a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 

 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.

out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”

thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.

soon after her arrival, yaga comes.

“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.

“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 

you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 

there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.

“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 

there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 

he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 

a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”

“that’s not really the case.”

“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.

you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.

“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.

gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 

unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”

from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 

you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.

“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 

what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.

2018 — present day

your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 

“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.

“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.

there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”

you smack his shoulder.

“be serious!”

he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 

you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.

“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.

“let me finish!”

you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”

there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”

“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.

“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 

“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 

the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.

extra notes- 

yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.

there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).

gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.

this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.

[entitled-fangirl]

Fatherhood. P2

Single dad!Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: The reader follows through with her marriage proposal. (I literally cannot say more without spoiling stuff)

Part 1

Masterlist

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

"Father?" Her voice carried through the hall.

Bolton turned to give his daughter his entire attention. 

"The carriage outside. Have we a visitor?" She asked meekly.

He sighed. "Afraid not."

Her head tilted. "An empty carriage? Who would ever send such-" She found herself stopping at the realization. "It's for me, isn't it?"

Bolton's lip tightened. "It is."

"Ah," she noted wearily. "I'll… I'll collect my things, I suppose."

He nodded, though his heart ached somewhere deep inside to see her go. "Best that you do. Can't have ya forgetting yer lavender, eh?"

She managed a smile. "No. I couldn't bare it."

"Go on, then."

She gave one last look before retreating up to her room.

…

She thanked the driver earnestly as she stepped in, watching the door shut behind her. 

This was nicer than she anticipated it being.

She leaned back when the carriage began to move and started to close her eyes before pausing at the sight of a small sealed letter. 

She picked it up.

The Stark sigil.

Her fingers shook as she opened it.

My dear lady, I do hope you'll excuse the manner in which you've received this letter. Your father seems to be a man of pageantry and show, keeping you in the dark.  I implore you to stop the carriage for a surprise of sorts. - An eager father

She reread the letter a few times before daring to do as it said.

Tap.Tap.Tap. against the ceiling of the carriage.

It came to an abrupt halt.

She paused with her hand still raised at the ceiling. Her ears listened intently for any noise at all.

The door soon opened and light poured further into the carriage. A hand shot out and she took it, stepping out.

When she stepped out and her eyes adjusted, the sight of her hand in Lord Stark's threw her off. "Lord Stark…?"

Cregan's bright smile filled her sight. "Hello, sweet girl."

She looked around, noticing that Cregan's horse stood behind the carriage. "What is this? A-Are you trying to save me?" She asked with a confused brow.

"Am I- what?" His grip on her hand tightened. "No. No. Of course not."

She frowned. "Excuse my bluntness, my lord. Why are you here then?"

He took a step back to collect himself, and a bright smile came over his face. "Y/n." He took her other hand as well. "Who do you imagine wished for your hand so ardently?"

It clicked then and her eyes widened. "You-"

"-Indeed," he beamed.

Her mouth laid agape. "W-Why did you not tell me?"

He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. "I had thought your father would, but alas."

"I fear I've embarrassed myself then-"

"-anything but." He persisted, "You've proven to me just how loyal you are. That's a trait that is not easily learned."

"You truly wish for my hand?" She asked.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Of course. Now come, Rickon awaits us in Winterfell."

Her eyes lit up. "Then we must go." She moved to the carriage, then paused when she noticed Cregan's lack of movement. "You are not traveling with me?"

He frowned. "A northman does not fair well in carts and carriages. We're made for horses."

She hummed. "Very well." She turned on her heel and began to walk to the horse. 

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "What're you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder. "What? Think I can't manage one horse ride?"

An amused smile came over his face and he shook his head in acceptance as he strode over to her.

Did he have to lift her onto the horse? Yes. Did he have the reigns the entire time? Yes. Did she know a single thing about horses? No. 

Did he point it out or complain once? Never.

…

The young woman had spent more time with Rickon than it seemed with Cregan for the time being. 

Sure, their wedding was still a few weeks out, but it was a strange thing to see a woman so infatuated with a son that was not of her blood.

"A horse? Yes," she grinned as she tapped the wooden horse on the ground as if it was galloping. "It's a mighty horse, isn't it? Very strong. Much like your papa's."

Rickon moved to his small chest of toys and pulled out another wooden thing, quickly moving to sit by her and do the same thing with his toy as hers.

"A direwolf? Horses gallop. See?" She replicated her motion. "But direwolves run. Here." She held her hand over his and lightly moved it to tap at a smoother and lighter rhythm. "Horses move with their mind. Wolves move with their hearts. That's what makes them predators."

Rickon tries to replicate the motion she made. It was sloppy, but it was clear that he got the idea. 

"That's wonderful. You're a clever boy," she preened at him.

"Clever as his father?" Cregan grinned from the doorway.

She gasped and turned, not expecting to see him while she was seated on the cold stone floor. "Cregan-"

He walked further in and knelt on the other side of them. "What have we here? A hungry wolf? Or is he friendly?"

She laughed. "All of our animals are friendly. Aren't they, Rickon?" When he nodded, she continued. "Wolves aren't hungry within these walls, Cregan."

His eyes were glued to hers, an obvious heat moving through his body. "Perhaps there is one."

Her head shot up and met his gaze, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. "I-"

Rickon's eyes had watered, and the boy let out a sniffle. 

The tension was quickly broken, for both now focused on the boy. 

"My boy," Cregan hummed. "No need for tears. I didn't mean that. There's no wolf besides Dark Watch. And she's no evil thing, is she?"

The boy finally let out a real cry, clearly terrified at the thought of a hungry wolf in Winterfell.

Cregan held his arms out, ready to receive the boy's wet cheek upon his chest. But it never came.

He heard her soft gasp as Rickon launched himself against her chest in desperation. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him. "Your father didn't mean it, my little Rickon. It was only a jest."

Cregan wanted to be mad. He felt that maybe he should be. But there was no angry bone in his body. 

His son had found a comfort besides him. 

He believed he found himself falling further for her, if that was even possible.

…

"CREGAN!"

His head shot up from the letters sprawled across the council table. "Excuse me."

He didn't wait for permission from the council members before he ran out of the room and a fast pace. 

The man pushed himself to run down the stairs, through the corridors that felt like forever, until he came upon his son's room.

"Cre-Oh. Oh, you missed the most wonderful thing," his betrothed beamed. 

Relief filled him. "I thought you dead from the sounds."

"My heart is very much alive," she claimed. She held Rickon on her hip and Cregan couldn't help but imagine her doing so with his seed growing inside her.

He had to physically shake the thought away. 

"W-What is it?"

She pulled Rickon closer to focus and her voice lowered. "Pa-pa," she enunciated. "P-ah p-uh."

She looked expectantly at the boy who only stared back. 

"Oh, Cregan. I promise he said it. I truly do!"

He shook his head with a sigh. "I believe you. I do. But I've not heard him speak. If it wasn't for his cries, I'd fear he had no voice at all."

"Be easy on him. He's learning."

"He should have already," Cregan sighed. "I fear it's my fault."

Her head tilted and she shifted the boy. "I don't see how it could be."

Cregan fully sat at that point, crossing his legs lazily. "His mother died on the birthing bed, you know."

She nodded. "I remember."

"I was in shambles after that. Couldn't dare to look at him." He ran a hand through his hair as if brushing the memory away. "Took some time to get over it. And by then, well, the damage was done."

Her heart ached at his honesty. "There were wet nurses and servants to help though, surely?"

"Yes, but none are the same as a father's touch."

Her body grew warm, and not just from the child in her arms. "Indeed."

Cregan leaned forward and brushed his hand over the back of the boy's head. "He's a good child. I'm glad he has you."

She looked up at the man and admired the genuine smile that was over his face. 

…

The weeks following were easy. Breaking fast with Cregan, followed by a walk through the halls to help her grow confidence in her home. Then hours in the library where she read or stitched. A servant brought small foods to tide her over to supper. Then supper with both Cregan and Rickon. The poor boy had to sit on his knees to even see over the table. 

"No, no," Cregan laughed heartily. "You were terrified, my love!"

"I was n-" She couldn't help but brake into a smile. "Well, you're an intimidating man at first sight!"

"Am I still?" He asked as a tease, but it was mixed with something else. "Do I frighten you?"

Her breath escaped in a short pant, overcome with the thought of what being his wife would truly entail.

He was frightening to everyone. Firm and strong, not easily swayed. Cold and forbidding. 

"No."

"No?"

"Not at all."

He gained a smirk. "How so?"

Her eyes shifted between him and his son. "You're softer than you wish to seem."

A fire was lit behind his eyes, and she knew that if Rickon wasn't there, they may have been doing something entirely different.

"Smart girl."

She preened at his praise. 

…

"What about-"

"-I have it handled."

Her head tilted. "Fine. And th-"

"-It's been done. You worry too much."

"One last thing. T-"

"You intelligently foolish woman," he sighed as he took her shoulders in his large hands. "I have done it all. You need only do your part."

She forced herself to take a deep breath. "You wonderful man."

"And you, Lady Bolton? Are you not a wonder as well?" He grinned.

"Lady Stark," she corrected him.

…

She fit into the role of lady with grace and ease. 

As if there was never such a prefect fit.

"Come," she beckoned Rickon along. "Your father is expecting us, and we shan't keep him waiting."

Upon seeing them enter the council room, Cregan's gloomy demeanor was instantly lightened. He stood up. "You're late."

She hums. "Do excuse us. Lord Rickon was practicing his jumping and who am I to stop him?" She teased

"Ah," he acknowledged when they got close enough. He bent down and picked up the boy. Once Rickon was held firmly against him, Cregan tilted his head down and kissed his wife deeply.

She pulled away with a fond giggle and red cheeks. 

Cregan was an unashamed man, kissing his wife in such a manner in front of his councilmen. "Sit," he gestured to her chair. "Let us begin."

…

"I'll never know how to thank you," Cregan remarked quietly one day.

The three had managed to get away from Winterfell for an afternoon. Seated on the dead grass, she watched Rickon spend his time chasing a bird that was so far in the air, he'd never have a chance, even if he could fly behind it.

"Thank me? For what?"

"For this. For being able to live in such ease," he said as he gestured out to the field.

"I should be thanking you," she hummed as she reached out to their basket and ripped of a small piece of bread, eating it. 

He leaned to her and placed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "Never."

She giggled and ripped another, now turning to him. "Fatherhood suits you, my love." Her hand came up to his lips. 

He opened his mouth, smirking as his wife's hand pushed the bread between his lips. Her fingers rest there as a look comes into her eyes. 

Cregan chewed the bread then kissed at her fingers. "And you, you wonderful mother." 

"PAPA!"

Their heads shot up at the sound.

"Rickon?" Cregan's eyes widened. "RICKON?" He stood in a hurry and his eyes scanned the field. 

He ran out when he saw where his son sat in the dirt. "Son, what are you doing? Gods, are you well?"

Rickon looked over his shoulder. In his hand was a flower. He held it up.

"Oh." Cregan bent down. "You scared me, boy. Yes, yes, that's a lovely flower."

Rickon stood up on his still pudgy legs and moved passed his father. 

Y/n had been watching and had slowly starting walking to them. When Rickon neared, she bent down. "Did you speak?" She asked softly. 

Rickon held the flower out to her. 

"For me? Oh, you sweet, sweet boy!" She picked him up and spun him around. "I've never been more proud."

Cregan had joined them at that point. He pulled his wife into his hold. He kissed the crown of her head and whispered in her hair, "Thank you for this. Thank you, my girl."

The family stood there in the field, enjoying every bit of their lives together.

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

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[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU BREAK UP AND MAKE UP — NANAMI KENTO

summary: fed up with your stagnant marriage, you serve your husband divorce papers as a final cry to show you're tired of his behaviour. but you forget that, although he doesn't always show it, your husband never goes down without a fight.

w/c: 3.5k

cw: angst to fluff, nanami may come across as an asshole but he means it with love, plot with a dash of porn at the end, so mdni!!, semi-public sex (you fuck in an elevator) afab!reader

authors note: first fic on the new blog (wild) but I actually really fw this fic, hope you all do to. not fully proof read so ignore mistakes!!

nanami's footsteps echo through the dimly lit hallway as he approaches your apartment. his heart pounds against his ribs, a mixture of irritation, confusion, and hurt swirling within him. he had seen the divorce papers, his name scrawled across the top in bold letters, and the shock has left him simmering with resentment.

with a determined exhale, he raises his hand and knocks on your door. the door swings open, revealing his surprised expression. his eyes widen as he takes in your clenched jaw and the tension etched into your features.

"kento," your voice wavers, a mix of surprise and something he can't quite place.

"i didn't expect to find divorce papers on my desk at work," he bites out, his tone sharp and impatient.

your cheeks flush slightly, your gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet his stare. "it got your attention, didn't it?" you retort, your voice tinged with exasperation.

"attention?" nanami's voice drips with sarcasm. "you think serving me divorce papers at my job is the way to solve our problems?"

"you've been distant, nanami," your voice holds a trace of weariness. "we've been living separate lives for weeks. i needed you to know that something has to change."

nanami's irritation flares, his patience wearing thin. "dropping divorce papers on my desk is your way of communication now?"

"you've brushed me off every time i've tried to talk," your voice holds a hint of frustration, your eyes betraying a simmering anger. "maybe this is the only language you'll understand."

nanami's annoyance collides with a stubborn resistance, his grip on his emotions hardening. "you know i've been busy," he states curtly.

"busy ignoring me," your voice is edged with bitterness, your expression growing weary.

nanami's frustration deepens, and he steps closer, his gaze unwavering. "you could have talked to me."

you look away, your jaw clenched. "tried that." he reaches out to you but you brush him off, backing out of his space. 

you didn’t know what the exact turning point of your marriage was, but once it came it was overwhelming, swept you both up in a whirl of frustration. nanami didn’t feel like yours anymore – he was a shell of the guy you married. there were no more morning kisses, gentle touches, or late-night talks that once filled your lives. the silence in your shared space became a chasm, widening with each passing day. you pleaded for his attention, for a connection, but it was as if he was slipping away, becoming a stranger.

"you’ve taken this game of yours too far," he scoffs, disbelief and a hint of frustration in his voice. nanami had never imagined it would come to this – the thought of you leaving him was a reality he was struggling to accept. he wasn't blind to the shifts in your relationship, the growing distance, but he had convinced himself that it was a phase. a bad period that could be smoothed out with a little time and patience.

when you gathered your belongings and walked away, nearly a month ago now, he allowed you to go, certain that this was just a phase, a moment of frustration that would pass.

"i thought we were just going through a rough patch," he continues, his voice carrying a self-assured edge. "didn't think you'd take it to this extreme. you really tried to embarrass me at work with that shit, everybody saw y’know, my colleagues, my boss.”

your eyes narrow at his response, the frustration that had simmered inside you starting to boil over. "It's not a game, nanami. this isn't some ploy for attention."

“so you’ve given up on me then? on us?” he asks incredulously, stepping closer to you, studying your face.

your gaze holds his, determination mixing with the hurt that still lingers. "i didn't want to give up, but i can't keep holding on to something that's slipping away."

nanami's eyes search yours, a moment of vulnerability flickering across his features before he masks it with his trademark confidence. "you think i'll just let you go that easily?"

you meet his gaze head-on, the tension between you palpable. "it's not about whether you'll 'let' me. it's about whether we're both willing to put in the effort to fix what's broken."

his smirk fades, his gaze intense as he studies you. "and? are you willing?"

nanami didn’t realise how silent his home was without you in it. when he returned, he sat in silence, the weight of your ultimatum sinking in. ‘it’s not a game nanami’ your previous words repeatedly echo through his mind. he had always prided himself on his rationality, on his ability to see things logically, but when it came to you, it was an unfamiliar territory,

he had grown accustomed to the routine of his life, the predictable patterns that had lulled him into a sense of complacency. he had convinced himself that the distance between you two would eventually close on its own. and now, confronted with the reality of your departure, he couldn't deny the truth any longer.

“you’ve really fucked this up nanamin,” gojo lectures over the phone to nanami, “you deserved getting embarrassed at your job.”

“i didn’t call you to be told off,” nanami says, pinching his nose “i called for you to tell me what to do.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” gojo questions, “you know what she wants.”

“If i did, i wouldn’t be on the phone with you, would i?” nanami snaps, frustration brewing.

“she wants the guy she married.” gojo states, ignoring nanami’s tone.

“I am that guy,” there was a pause, as if nanami could see gojo’s pointed look through the phone, “well i thought i was that guy. but i know she doesn’t want to divorce me for real, she loves me.”

“does she though?” gojo questions, “remember nanamin, i was there when you guys got married, the way she looked at you then… isn’t how she looks at you now.”

nanami ends the call abruptly, pacing around his living room. gojo’s words sticking in his mind. he had reached out to his friend seeking guidance, but it’s becoming evident that the answers he’s seeking might not be as straightforward as he had hoped.

gojo’s words struck a nerve, he was right. nanami remembers the early days of your relationship, the excitement, the adoration - the way your eyes would light up when you looked at him. but now, the distance, the hurt, it was evident.

he was going to make things right, he had to. you were his wife - his soulmate. he’s known that from the day he laid eyes on you, and he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasp.

it had been months since you served nanami the divorce papers – he was stalling. you couldn’t deny that he was trying though, the daily flowers that you received, the take out that was delivered to your house without you asking, was a testament to that.

you got daily calls, texts and emails from him asking you about your day, about your wellbeing. he was showing you that he cared, and it  was as if he was courting you all over again. 

his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, your friends and family could see the subtle smiles you couldn’t suppress and the softening of your eyes when his name was mentioned. they hoped for your sake that nanami would keep consistent.

you felt hopeful, and that made you feel dumb. 

but you just needed one more push to feel secure, to feel like this would work – would last. which is why you were standing in the lobby of your lawyers office, your feet tapping nervously against the floor as you wait for your husband to arrive. 

“hi, my love,” he greets, the familiar pet name coming out like a whisper, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, “i guess we should head up there.”

“yeah, lead the way,” you say, your tone warmer than you expect as you take in his appearance. he was dressed in one of his signature crisp suits, in fact it was your favourite suit of his, and he was wearing the hell out of it.

you follow him to the elevator, the hallway stretching ahead as you both walk side by side. you haven’t felt like this in a long time, like a pair, a union. nanami’s presence beside you is both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the life you once shared and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

“we don’t have to go this meeting you know,” nanami forces out, but you ignore him pushing the button of the floor you need to be at.

“love listen, it doesn’t have to be this way,” he persists.

“and what way is it kento?” you argue, “just because you’ve been sending me flowers, and asking me how i am each day, doesn’t mean you’ve magically became husband material again.”

“trust me, i know that.” he scoffs, “you’re a real piece of work bu-”

“and you’re a real piece of sh-” you start, stopping yourself as you realise that you were the one going too far.

“as i was saying,” he continues, “you’re a real piece of work, but you’re worth it. you always have been, from the moment i met you i knew you were going to cause me trouble but i ended up loving you for that.”

“well tell that to your actions for the past–” you pause, feeling the elevator coming to an abrupt stop, “why did the elevator just close… the last thing i need right now is to be trapped.”

nanami's gaze shifts to the control panel, his eyebrows furrowing. "looks like we're stuck."

you glance at him, your heart racing for a different reason now. "stuck?"

nanami's eyes meet yours, his smirk undeniably playful. "Seems like fate has its own plans for us," he remarks, his tone holding a hint of amusement.

you roll your eyes, unable to suppress a small smile despite the circumstances. "great, just what I needed today."

he chuckles, his fingers expertly unbuttoning his cuffs as he begins to roll up his sleeves. "well, at least we have some time to ourselves. might as well make the most of it."

your eyebrows raise at his nonchalant attitude, your surprise momentarily replacing the irritation. "are you serious right now? we're stuck in an elevator, and you're acting like it's a casual evening at home?"

nanami's grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "why not? it's not like we can do much about the situation. might as well enjoy each other's company."

you huff out a breath, torn between annoyance and amusement. as you observe him making himself comfortable on the elevator floor, you can't help but shake your head. "you're unbelievable."

he pats the spot next to him, his inviting gesture a silent challenge. "come on, it's not so bad. we can reminisce about old times, or argue about who's the better cook."

you find yourself hesitating, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. with a resigned sigh, you take a seat beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "old times, huh? you mean the days when you used to bring me breakfast in bed?"

nanami's smile softens, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "yeah, and you'd always complain that the eggs were overcooked."

“because they always were.” you retort, with a chuckle. you missed this, being in his space without any of the extra noise.

“i can cook breakfast for you again,” he proposes, “if you just come home.”

“kento i don’t know if i-”

“do you remember our first date,” he interrupts, “my car broke down on the way home from the restaurant, so i put you on my back and carried you for 5 miles.”

“you carried my heels too,” you add, laughing softly to yourself at the memory. your first date with nanami solidified that he was the man for you, the way he shamelessly gave you a piggy back ride, heels and all.

nanami’s gaze locks with yours, his fingers gently grazing your hand “it was worth every step.”

a warmth spreads through your chest, a mix of nostalgia and a newfound vulnerability. "you used to be so sweet," you murmur, your voice laced with a bittersweet longing.

his fingers inch closer, your hands almost brushing against each other. "i can still be sweet, you know," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

your heart skips a beat, the air around you growing charged with unspoken emotions. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he tilts his head, his lips curving into a genuine smile. "maybe I've been out of practice."

as the silence settles between you, the confined space of the elevator seems to amplify the intensity of your connection. the past rushes back, the moments that you shared, the love that once flourished. but you're both here now, in the present, faced with the choice of whether to rebuild or let go.

nanami's fingers finally find yours, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "i want to make it right, to fix us," he admits, vulnerability lacing his words.

you meet his gaze, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. "It's not that simple, kento. we can't just go back to the way things were."

his thumb traces a soothing pattern on the back of your hand. "i know. but maybe we can start anew. rediscover each other, learn from our mistakes." 

you study his face, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. maybe he had changed, maybe he was willing to put in the effort to mend what was broken. maybe, just maybe, there was hope for your relationship after all.

the elevator's walls seem to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. The past and the present merge, and as you search his eyes for any signs of deceit, you find none. only a genuine desire to make things right.

"i've missed you," he whispers, his voice holding a vulnerability that resonates within you.

“you swallow the lump in your throat, your grip on his hand tightening. "i've missed you too."

nanami's fingers burned with a mixture of yearning and desperation as they reached out to trace the curve of your cheek. his touch was electric, sending a surge of heat through your veins. your breath hitched in response, your heart pounding against your ribs as his thumb brushed over your skin.

his touch was no longer tentative; it was a declaration, a silent proclamation of his desire. the air seemed to crackle with tension as his gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark and smouldering.

"i've wanted to do this for so long," he confesses, his voice a low growl sending a shiver down your spine.

his fingers slide from your cheek to your jawline, his touch igniting a fire within you. the space between you seemed to vanish as he closed in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. your eyes flutter closed as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch setting your skin ablaze.

and then, his lips crash onto yours with a fierce hunger that leaves you breathless. it was a kiss that ignites a wildfire, a blaze of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long. his lips moved against yours with a fervour that matched the intensity of his touch, a dance of passion and longing.

his arms encircle you, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepens. his mouth moves over yours with a possessive urgency, his tongue seeking entrance and igniting a fiery tangle of sensations. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and nostalgia.

your fingers claw at the fabric of his shirt, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in this moment. his body presses against yours, every contour and ridge igniting a cascade of sensations that pooled between your thighs.

his hands trail down your back, the touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. when he cups your hips and pulls you impossibly closer, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the intensity of the kiss.

as the kiss broke, your foreheads rest against each other, your breaths ragged and laboured. the air around you was thick with desire, the space between you charged with an unspoken promise.

"i need you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice laced with desperation.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head down for another searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of pent-up longing, of a love that refused to be extinguished. your bodies moulded together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, every touch a symphony of need and surrender.

“tell me you need me, love,” he gasps out, and you nod against him, “no i got to hear you say it.”

“i need you, i do,” you whimper against his lips, as his fingers slip below the waistline of your skirt, gently grazing your clit, “k-kento we can’t, have you forgotten where we are?”

“don’t tell me you’ve become shy whilst we’ve been separated,” he chuckles, smirking as he continues to toy with your pussy “you don’t remember all the times i’d have you bent over my desk in my office?” 

you bite your lip at the memory, feeling yourself get wetter as nanami’s fingers enter you, his thumb pressing against your clit. nanami knew you inside and out, he knew how exactly where to touch, how to get you whine and writhe against him as you are now.

he took advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking against your collarbone as he continues to stroke your cunt. you were gushing over him, repeatedly clenching against his fingers, as he twists and pushes in and out of you. 

“you always get so wet for me,” he praises, pulling his fingers out of you, his digits glistening coated with you. you can smell your own arousal from his hand as he grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at his lust filled eyes. “ride me.”

you didn’t need to be asked twice, you discard your skirt off on the elevator floor, as he unzips his pants. he strokes his dick as it gets harder just at the sight of you. he was back was against the wall, his legs sprawled out widely, the perfect opening for you to climb right into his lap.

you slid right onto him, letting out an exhale as he fills you. he presses a sloppy kiss against your lips as your cunt grips onto him. your hands dig into his shoulder as you bounce up and down on him, his hands having your hips in a firm hold to keep you in place.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way you were taking him in like you needed him, was a sight he could never get tired off. you were so pretty, all fucked out on his dick, your eyes glossed over in a daze, the only thing you were focused on was him. 

“d’you see now why i could never let you go?” he teases, thrusting upwards into you as one of his hands trails up to caress your cheek, his thumb parting your lips, “because this pussy��s mine.” 

he quickens his pace, eager to get you to come undone all over him, the way your movements became slower, lazier, he could tell you were nearly at your peak. you bite on his thumb, suppressing your moans, as his merciless thrust begin to become too much. 

“m’close kento, i-it’s too much,” 

“I know my love, you’re taking me so well,” he praises, pushing deeper into you, “just hold out for a bit longer.”

“i-i can’t i-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as you feel yourself release all over him. nanami groans out his head collapsing in your cleavage as he finishes inside of you, your juices mixing with his. 

the only sounds that can be heard are you both trying to catch your breath. nanami keeps his head pressed against your tits, still inside of you. you toy with his hair pushing his hair back to leave a gentle kiss against his head, his arms tighten around you and it was as if you could feel him smile against you. you knew from then that you and your husband was going to be okay.

“kento?” your voice wavers, a mixture of uncertainty and hope lacing your words.

“yes? my love,” he responds, his gaze locked onto yours.

your heart flutters as you gather your courage, the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future intertwining in your chest. "I think we can cancel that meeting with my lawyer."

nanami's smile broadens, but it's different this time – it's a smile that carries the weight of understanding and a newfound determination. he holds your gaze, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes, a silent promise of change and rediscovery.

you eventually got out of that elevator and you didn’t go home to your separate apartments, you went home, together. 

extra an: so guys what did you think?? first time writing for smut, and for nanami so if it’s shit spare me. but I love him and I’d never divorce him. DIVIDERS FROM @/CAFEKITSUNE !!

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ YOU'RE MINE, NOT HIS

presenting kinktober day 3 ➔︎ stalker!rafe

warnings: DUBCON !! mentions of stalking, harm to minor character, use of restraints + blindfold, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, & mention of rafe taking pictures word count: 2.1k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe stood in the fifth-level hallway of your apartment complex, digging into his pocket to find the duplicate of your apartment key he had. luckily for him, you were the clumsiest little thing he’d ever seen, having dropped your key one day, which gave him the perfect opportunity to make a copy and slip it back under the doormat in front of your apartment before you realized it was missing. 

he looked to ensure your pesky neighbors weren’t around before inserting the key into the lock and twisting it until he heard a soft ‘click.’ 

the wood floors creaked ever so slightly as his feet carried him throughout your apartment to your bedroom. the smell of your perfume wafted in the air the second he stepped into your bedroom, overtaking his senses and increasing his need for you tenfold. the tips of his fingers traced over the several pictures of you with family and friends that were delicately placed on top of your dresser. 

he hummed to himself, moving around, taking in every little detail of your room as he looked through your things. it was exactly how he had imagined it to be. 

rafe opened your closet, his attention captured by the baby pink dress you had worn the first time he saw you. he remembered how delicate and angelic you looked, like a sweet little lamb. of course, you didn’t know then that the same dress would be the start of his obsession, but he couldn’t help himself, not when you were the definition of perfect. 

he rummaged through your closet, seeking a souvenir to satisfy him. he squatted down and reached his hand into the laundry basket when a tiny lace thong caught his eye. He dipped his head down, taking note of your scent as he sniffed the dainty material. 

rafe quickly stuffed the thong into the pocket of his khakis, and his curiosity peaked at a box pushed far back into the corner of your closet, almost as if you were hiding it. 

“what are you trying to hide, angel?” he muttered to himself, reaching for the box. he removed the lid, licking his lips at the sight of a vibrator, but nothing prepared him for the pile of notes under the toy. rafe took the notes into his hand, flipping through each one, recognizing them as the notes he often left for you, “who knew you were such a naughty little thing? gettin’ off to my letters”. 

rafe’s ears perked when he heard the front door open, the sound of you, and what seemed to be a man’s voice. he quickly closed the box, putting it back where he initially found it before slipping into your closet and shutting it just as you walked in with a man following behind you. 

he looked through the shutters of your closet door, ‘what the hell is he doing here?’ rafe thought, recognizing the mystery man as alex, whom you had gone on a date with a few nights ago. he knew he couldn’t risk getting caught, being forced to stay hidden and watch the scene unfold before him as alex reached into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a fuzzy pair of pink handcuffs with a matching pink blindfold. 

his breath hitched, hearing the handcuffs closing around your wrists, his cock hardening as your soft pants filled the room as alex left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck while his fingers pumped in and out of your sopping cunt–god, you sounded so wet, that should be me making you make those sweet sounds. 

his teeth gritted together, his resolve crumbling when alex started to unbuckle his belt. he could no longer watch, quietly stepping out from your closet, closing in on the man standing before him. rafe wrapped his bicep around alex’s throat, putting him in a headlock. alex struggled to fight back the tighter rafe squeezed his throat until his body finally went limp; you were his to touch and please, not alex’s. 

rafe wrapped alex’s belt around his wrists to bind them together before using an article of your clothing to tie around his mouth, gagging him in case he stirred awake. he dragged him to your closet, shoving him into the congested area and shutting the door. 

you, on the other hand, lay on your bed with your wrists cuffed together, looking like a pretty present waiting for him to unwrap. 

as you open your mouth to call out for alex, a small gasp erupts from your throat when you feel his fingers thread through your hair, yanking your head back. you feel soft, plump lips against yours, and you can’t help but think about how different they feel. you ultimately decide to push the thought into your head, eagerly kissing back. 

rafe trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw, burying his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he worked his way down your body. his large palms grasped your thighs, pushing them apart to settle between them, his broad shoulders keeping you spread open. 

he dipped his head down, leaving featherlight kisses on your inner thighs, teeth digging into your skin. his hands planted flat on your upper thighs, holding them down. a shiver ran up your spine, his warm breath ghosting over your core. rafe groans at the sight of your soaked cunt, “been dying to taste you ever since i first saw you”. 

you let out a shaky gasp when his tongue ran through your folds. he licked from the bottom to your clit, flicking his tongue against your clit, pulling the prettiest sounds from you. rafe laid his tongue flat, repeatedly licking up and down your sopping cunt. his thick digits prodded against your entrance, plunging them into you as his mouth found your clit once again, sucking it into his mouth. 

“taste sweeter than I imagined,” he groans, curling his middle and ring fingers, gently stroking that spongy spot inside you. you squirm under him, your hips bucking forward when he quickens the pace of his fingers in time with his mouth, sucking harder on your sensitive bud. 

your brain tried to process his voice and decipher why his choice of words seemed familiar until it dawned on you. you knew those words by heart—having read them from one of the many letters you received that were signed off with a little ‘R.C.’. when you first received the letters, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together and figure out who was behind them. it was none other than rafe cameron, whom you shared a class with last semester. 

you should’ve been terrified that the man between your legs was the man who’d been stalking you for months, but you’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like, and maybe, just maybe, you were a little sick in the head for getting off to his letters. 

“p-please” you stammered, your back arching off the bed, wanting more as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers and mouth. “hm?” rafe hummed against your clit, gently biting down, his tongue flicking over it to soothe the minuscule stinging he caused. 

“please what? can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“please…need your cock” you whimpered, “please, rafe”. 

rafe felt a sense of pride when his name left your mouth; many nights, he wondered what his name sounded like coming from you, and now he’s gotten to hear it. “smart girl, you knew it was me watching and leaving you all those letters and presents, huh?” he murmured against your soft skin, kissing up your body. 

his lips brush against the shell of your ear, “never knew you were such a dirty girl, you like this, don’t you? like the idea of me taking what i want while you remain helpless?”. you let out a small squeak when you were flipped over onto your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up and keeping your face squished against the mattress, “don’t worry, angel, ‘m gonna give you what you want”. 

he fumbles with the buttons and zipper of his khakis, swiftly pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. his hands grasp your ankles, yanking your body closer to the edge of your bed, and his knees nudge your thighs, coaxing them to spread.

“spread your legs, baby. let me see what’s mine”. 

he gripped the base of his cock, stroking it a few times and sliding it between your slick folds, coating the head of his cock with your arousal. his fat tip nudges your wanting hole before pushing into your wet cunt, groaning as your walls stretch around him.

“so fuckin’ wet and tight,” he rasps, pushing on the small of your back to keep you down, slowly pulling out before slamming himself back in. he begins to pound his hips into yours, his hands gripping at your waist, the fatty flesh of your ass jiggling with each thrust, “pussy feels like fuckin’ heaven”. 

“tell me, sweet girl, all those nights you’d touch this pretty pussy, did you think about me? thinking about what it would be like to be fucked by the man who’s obsessed with you?” rafe grunted.

you tug at the restraints, trying to hold onto something, but it’s no use as your wrists are bound behind your back. rafe’s head lolls back as your body starts to rock back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock, your hips meeting his, “look at you…fucking yourself on my cock. god, you’re so desperate, huh?”. 

rafe leans back, sliding one hand to your wrists and grasping the chain between the cuffs. he uses it for leverage, pulling you back as he starts to thrust into you at a relentless pace. his eyes drift to watch his cock sliding in and out of your puffy cunt, “shit—poor thing must’ve been needing some fuckin’ dick, huh? she’s suckin’ me in, swallowing me whole”.

you thrash against the cuffs, moans falling from your lips, trying to pull your wrists away from his hold, and he leans forward, pressing his weight onto your back. his hips snap into yours harshly, craning his neck to bury into the crook of yours, “quit trying to pull away; this is what you were begging me for, remember, sweet girl?”. 

“y-yes” you cry out, your jaw slacks, burrowing your face and drooling into the sheets. you let out a sharp gasp as he intertwined his fingers through your hair, wrapping it around his wrist and tugging, keeping your head upright, “don’t hide that pretty face from me”.

your body aches, wrists going numb from being bound behind your back for so long, but nothing compared to the amount of pleasure you were feeling. the mixture of his thumb rubbing tight circles against your puffy clit, and the persistent abuse on your cervix caused by the head of his cock, hitting it each time he slammed into your drooling hole over and over again, was overwhelming your senses. 

“f-fuck–” you hiccup, your eyes rolling back under the blindfold. rafe shoves your face back into the sheets, keeping his hand on the back of your neck, his skin slapping against yours as he pistons his hips faster. your pussy pulses around him, tightly gripping his cock. 

“shit…squeezing me so tight. c’mon, pretty girl, milk my cock for all it’s worth and cum f’me,” rafe coos. your body trembles, pulling a moan from his lips as your walls convulse around him. you feel the all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen, your tears staining the pink satin blindfold. your voice becomes hoarse from crying out his name as you’re sent over the edge, creaming all over his thick cock.

he grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to capture your lips with his, swallowing your cry of pleasure. his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing after his release.“gonna let me cum inside this pretty pussy? show me that it’s all mine?” he whispers against your lips. 

you whine in response, clenching around him again, “yeah? is that what you want? want me to stuff you full with my load?” his hips stutter, his cock twitching inside your warm, wet pussy as he comes deep inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.

rafe pushes into you one more time, his hips flush against your ass as he shoves his cum deeper inside you before pulling out. his hands pull your ass cheeks apart, watching your cunt clench around nothing as his cum drips out of you.

he grabs his phone, using one hand to keep you spread open while he takes pictures of his cum leaking out of your poor abused cunt, “this is just a reminder that you’re mine”.

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