#pride game 21
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woolblossom-archive · 1 year ago
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butchwink · 6 months ago
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maybe i really shouldve went to harass trudeau and his staff at the hockey game this winter over palestine. tell them one of his collegues students is here to argue about the two state solution
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danielnelsen · 8 months ago
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oh. so you cant complete din'an hanin without a warrior or rogue to get into one of the rooms. cool.
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berylliumliumite · 2 years ago
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i will admit. hearing the undertale song at pride was so strange and unusual but the kids at the under 21+ pride fest were having so much fun talking about undertale. i love you queer kids never change
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chingyu1023vick · 1 year ago
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Zodiac Signs Mod
✨ Zodiac Signs have minor effects on personality and can affect Social Compatibility & Autonomy between any two Sims!
**Base game compatible.
**Compatible with all my other mods.
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The social compatibility pairings and sign descriptions originated from Sims 1 and 2
Addon to assign Zodiac Signs based on current Seasons/ randomly when a Newborn Baby aging up to an Infant
Cheat to pick Zodiac Signs manually (All Ages)
Cheat to let the game determine a Sim's Zodiac Sign based on their personality traits (Child+ Ages)
Social interactions to share Zodiac Signs info/ learn other Sims' Zodiac Signs (Child+ Ages)
Addon to pick in CAS mode and display as Personality Traits to show up in other Sims' info panels.  (Child+ Ages) Please notice that using this addon will take up a personality traits slot (out of six default personality traits for adult Sims if not using mods to give more personality traits slots.) 
Without the addon, zodiac signs are by default GAMEPLAY traits that won't take up a personality traits slot and won't display in other Sims' info panels.
Gives occasional low-intensity +1 moodlets relating to zodiac personality. 
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Signs Descriptions & Minor effects 
Each Zodiac Sign can have minor effects on moods, autonomy, and relationship gain rates. No intrusive buffs. Sims now get occasional low-intensity +1 moodlets relating to zodiac personality. (Only available to Child+ Sims & when Sims are not in very negative moods)
♈️ Aries (March 20 - April 20)
Dynamic and confident, most Aries never shy away from the opportunity to strike up a conversation with anyone. However, they can be somewhat impulsive and quick-tempered.
Mood: Angry x1.2; Confident x1.2
Autonomy: Social autonomy x1.25; Angry autonomy x1.1; Hotheaded autonomy x1.2
Buffs: Angry/ Confident +1
♉️ Taurus (April 20 - May 21)
The typical Taurus is strong-willed and determined. That can often mean being determined to have a good time.
Mood: Focused x1.25; Uncomfortable x0.9
Autonomy: Fun autonomy x1.05; Focused autonomy x1.1; Foodie autonomy x1.2
Buffs: Focused/ Happy +1
♊️ Gemini (May 21 - June 21)
Youthful and lively, many think Gemini has enough energy for two. Also energized by conversation, it isn't surprising to find them bouncing from one topic to the next at parties.
Mood: Energized x1.25; Inspired x1.1
Autonomy: Social autonomy x1.2; Fun autonomy x1.1; Energized autonomy x1.1; Inspired autonomy x1.1
Funny social priority +1; Romance social priority +1
Buffs: Inspired/ Playful +1
♋️ Cancer (June 21 - July 23)
There is nothing extreme about Cancers—they are very balanced. They can also be very changeable which can be good or bad depending on the situation.
Mood: Angry x0.9; Fine x1.1; Tense x0.9
Autonomy: Family-oriented autonomy x1.2
Social Buffs decay faster x1.2
Buffs: Fine/ Happy +1
♌️ Leo (July 23 - August 22)
The ultimate "people" people, Leos are complete extroverts. Unfortunately, this makes them deficient in other areas.
Autonomy: Social autonomy x1.3
Friendship gains faster x1.15
Skills gain Social x1.1; Creative x0.95; Mental x0.95
Buffs: Confident/ Energized +1
♍️ Virgo (August 23 - September 23)
Modest and shy, introverted Virgos take pride in their meticulous and practical approach to life. Unfortunately, these same traits can result in a very fussy individual.
Mood: Focused x1.25; Tense x1.2; Uncomfortable x1.1
Autonomy: Social autonomy x0.8; Neat autonomy x1.2
Funny social priority -2
Buffs: Focused/ Tense +1
♎️ Libra (September 23 - October 23)
Romantic and charming and incredibly sociable, it's hard not to like a Libra. However, their social pursuits leave them little time for more practical endeavors.
Mood: Flirty x1.2; Focused x0.8
Autonomy: Flirty autonomy x1.1; Romantic autonomy x1.1; Social autonomy x1.1
Romance gains faster x1.15
Romance social priority +2
Buffs: Confident/ Dazed +1
♏️ Scorpio (October 23 - November 22)
While somewhat withdrawn from social activities, Scorpios are forceful and determined in more practical pursuits.
Mood: Fine x1.2; Focused x1.2
Autonomy: Social autonomy x0.85; Focused autonomy x1.2; Bookworm autonomy x1.2
Buffs: Confident/ Focused +1
♐️ Sagittarius (November 22 - December 22)
Jovial and carefree, Sagittarians are also blessed with boundless energy. Unfortunately, this combination can make them restless and careless.
Mood: Energized x1.2; Embarrassed x0.9; Tense x1.2
Energy needs decay x0.95
Autonomy: Fun autonomy x1.15; Energized autonomy x1.2; Hotheaded autonomy x1.2
Buffs: Energized/ Happy +1
♑️ Capricorn (December 22 - January 20)
Armed with a dry wit, Capricorns can often be found telling a good joke. Also being very practical, they strive for order and discipline.
Mood: Focused x1.2; Playful x1.1
Autonomy: Focused autonomy x1.1; Playful autonomy x1.2
Funny social priority +2
Buffs: Fine/ Focused +1
♒️ Aquarius (January 20 - February 18)
Friendly and amusing, Aquarians are excellent companions. Being well-balanced in other areas helps to make them the most agreeable sign.
Mood: Playful x1.2; Happy x1.1
Autonomy: Happy autonomy x1.1; Good autonomy x1.1
Funny social priority +1; Friendly social priority +1
Buffs: Happy/ Playful +1
♓️ Pisces (February 18 - March 20)
Selfless and kind, Pisces are one of the nicest signs. They're active too. However, this combination can make them emotionally restless and indecisive.
Mood: Sad x1.2; Energized x1.1; Inspired x1.2
Autonomy: Gloomy autonomy x1.2; Sad autonomy x1.1
Friendly social priority +2
Buffs: Happy/ Inspired +1
Social Interactions
Sims with any of the Zodiac Signs can "Ask About Zodiac Signs". Located in Friendly ---> Small Talk. Actor Sim will learn about Target Sim's Zodiac Sign.
Sims with any of the Zodiac Signs can "Enthuse About Zodiac Signs". Located in Friendly ---> Interest. Target Sim will learn about Actor Sim's Zodiac Sign.
How to give Zodiac Signs to Sims
Four ways to add zodiac signs to Sims:
1) Auto-assign Zodiac Signs based on Seasons/ randomly when a Newborn Baby aging up to an Infant
2) Assign Zodiac Signs based on a Sim's personality (vary greatly) (located in Action menu, Child+)
3) Pick Zodiac Signs in GAMEPLAY mode (located in Action menu, All Ages)
4) Manually Add Zodiac Sign in CAS mode with Addon (Child+)
When you click on Randomize Likes and Dislikes in CAS mode, it will generate one Zodiac Sign. It won't be saved after you exit CAS mode if you have already picked Zodiac Sign for your Sim.
With chingyu_addon_ZodiacSignAutoSwitchVersion installed, it will auto-turn the infant/toddler version into the child+ version when a Toddler Sim aging up to a Child.
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Autonomy: More social autonomy towards compatible signs; Less social autonomy towards incompatible signs
x2.3 toward attracting signs; x1.5 toward the same sign
x0.5 towards incompatible signs
Compatibility (Main Module): Attracted To +3/ Complementary (The Same Sign) +2*2/ Repelled by -4
Compatibility (Stronger addon): Attracted To +5/ Complementary (The Same Sign) +2*2/ Repelled by -6
Compatibility (Subtle addon): Attracted To +2/ Complementary (The Same Sign) +1*2/ Repelled by -3
👑  View Zodiac Signs Compatibility Chart HERE
🧡 Download HERE Now!
Public Access: Sept 3
🔆 Changelog in August 2023 HERE
🔹 Links to ALL My Traits, Game Mods, and CCs
🔹List of IDs for creators who want to refer my traits to their own mods 
🔹 List of Chingyu’s CC Traits Name and Descriptions for mod users
🔹 Check Mod Status after a patch & Compatibilities
👁‍🗨 Learn how to install a mod & FAQs
👁‍🗨 Terms of Use
👁‍🗨 Ask Questions/ Suggestions/ Bug Reports on Discord
▶ I need to see a screenshot or LE report to help you figure out what’s wrong!
👁‍🗨 Download on my Patreon
👁‍🗨 Follow me on Twitter
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dewdropdinosaur · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 21: Monsterfucking
Summary: You thought making your boyfriend jealous would end in your favor, and some would say it did. Lucifer full of jealously and adrenalive, fucking you feverntly into his mattress while in demon form sounds pretty good to you too. Warnings: P in V Sex, fingering, jealousy, possesiveness, sub/dom dynamics, mosterfucking, demon forms, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @minkdelovely
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Lucifer found himself in a rare mood—one that was neither light nor playful nor duck involved. He watched from the corner of the Hotel bar as Alastor, the Radio Demon, his sworn enemy, leaned in close to you, his laughter echoing with static in the air. Alastor’s sharp smile glinted like polished teeth, his voice smooth and teasing. "Oh, Y/N, darling! You are truly a marvel!," he said, his tone dripping with mischief. 
Lucifer felt a twitch in his chest—a heat rising that was unfamiliar, yet unmistakable. Jealousy clawed at him, gnawing at his calm demeanor. How dare Alastor flirt so brazenly with his girlfriend? You giggled, a sound that felt like shards of glass in Lucifer's mind, and he clenched his jaw. That cute little giggle should be directed towards him and him alone. 
"You know," Alastor continued, seemingly oblivious to the dark aura gathering around Lucifer, "I’ve always said a girl like you deserves a little excitement. Lucifer can be rather… dull sometimes." 
The air crackled with tension, the mood shifting as Lucifer’s form began to shimmer, dark red eyes glowing and sending waves of red smoke swirling around him. His eyes glowed like embers, the familiar contours of his demon form creeping into view with his wings unfurling; towering and fierce. Jealously was a little green devil that he hated but by Hells, he wasn’t the sin of Pride to just not let his girlfriend been sullied by that god-forsaken mortal right in front of him. 
“Alastor,” Lucifer said, his voice low and dangerous, “why don’t you find someone else to amuse yourself with? I’m sure there are plenty of other souls in Hell who would appreciate your… charm.” 
You turned to Lucifer, and what started as confusion morfed into a mix of excitement and immediate arousal flooding your pants. You loved seeing this side of him, the protective, possessive nature that emerged when he felt threatened. “Lucifer, dear, we are just talking” you said lightly, but your smile held a hint of mischief. “Alastor’s just teasing.”
“Oh, but Lucifer,” Alastor chirped, unfazed, “you must admit, a little attention never hurt anyone, mhm?”
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a crackling radio transmission, playing a chaotic tune that seemed to mock the situation. The sound danced through the air, and he leaned even closer to you, an unabashedly charming smile gracing his features. Lucifer's patience wore thin, and with a growl, he stepped forward, his demon form radiating dark energy. “I don’t recall inviting you to play games with my girlfriend, Alastor,” he said, his voice a smooth, dangerous whisper.
You, caught between the two powerful demons, found the situation thrilling. The tension sparked in the air, making your heart race. “Lucifer, maybe we should just let Alastor have his fun?” you suggested, half-teasing, eyes sparkling with excitement. If all went according to you and Alastor’s plan, this was headed right where you wanted…Lucifer's glare turned from Alastor to you confusion and frustration mixing with something deeper—desire.
 “You think this is fun?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.
“Not in the way you think,” you replied, stepping closer, gaze unwavering. “But I do think it’s… hot when you get all worked up.” You ran a finger down the lapels of his suit jacket, his horns shrinking slightly at the touch and wings softening. 
With a deep breath, Lucifer glanced at you, then back to Alastor, his voice steady but filled with an intensity that made you heart skip. “Just remember, Alastor, there are consequences for crossing me.” With a sudden snap, both you and your demon boyfriend were teleported away from the red and cackling radio demon into the sanctuary that was Lucifer’s room. The door’s lock rang out with a defined click and soon towering before you, Lucifer’s bright red and angry eyes bored into yours. 
“Mind explaining what that was about?” His tone was laced with frustration but you could tell what was underneath, confusion, fear, and adrenaline. A soft smirk came to grace your features as you sauntered toward him, hands laying gracefully on his chest. Your fingers came to trace one of his horns delicately, reveling in the shiver that past through he body beneath your touch. 
“I may have entreated Alastor to help me rile you up.” Your voice was nothing short of confident, as if you plan had come to fruition. Which it had. Lucifer’s eyes shone with confusion, his eyes momentarily flashing back to their beautiful original color as his lips formed a small pout. 
“You wanted me to be annoyed?’
“Not annoyed, per se. More…jealous and wanting to fuck me while you are big and powerful.”
Now that was a statement if he had ever heard one. Did he hear you right, were his ears decieving him? By Heaven, he hoped not. A ravenous sneer bloomed on Lucifer’s face, his eyes and body once again resuming his full demonic state. With a flash of white and red, the King of Hell pinned you against the headboard of his mattress. Your hands now sat pinned and body pliant to the whims and wishes of the fully demonic figure that hovered above you. And Hells, did it make you horny. Heart racing, body quivering with anticipation, every nerve seemed to sparkle with desire at the scene that played out before you. 
“So you want me to fuck you, ducky? Want me to throw you around like the little slut you are?” With quick and rapid nods, he had his answer as you writhed below him. He could smell you, how soaked you were. That damp spot on your pants did little to hide salaciousness of your thoughts and needs. Bringing a clawed finger to rip down the waistband of your pants, the fabric tore at the seams off your skin. Choking back a breath at the flash of cool air that rushed towards your panty-clad cunt, you shiver with delight as he ran a knuckle across your slit. 
“Oh, you really want this don’t you? Have barely touched you and you’re already a mess for me.” A lewd mewl passes your lips as Lucifer peeled the panties off your body, the fabric came off with an agonizing of squish of heavy damp slick. Wasting no time on formal foreplay, your body clearly ready and willing, Lucifer sank two fingers into your weeping pussy and started to scissor you wide. Plunging his large and deft fingers in and out of you, your body became lost in the erotic rapture of your senses. 
You could feel his touch everywhere. One hand digging into your hips, his mouth leaving sloppy kisses on the valley of your neck, and the other hand knuckle deep inside you in such a way you felt you mind explode. The feeling of fullness was almost an impossible feeling to describe, an ardent need as close as you could think. There he towered over you, the soft outline of his toned chest peaking through the few buttons that had come undone from his top in the frenzy of fervent activity that was occuring. His face was laced with a carnal grin, clearly lost in the rhasposdy that was playing out. He looked so angelic like this, despite his forminable appearance. Eyes shinning with ectasy, lips parted and panting, ripe for you to slip your tongue into if you weren’t getting fingered till you saw stars. He was the stars of Heaven to your mortal form, gazing upon his power and gracefullness as you laid bare and ready to worship the alter of his every desire. How faiithfully you would serve, dutifully his Hellish preist. 
The thoughts swam in your head, imagining all the ways you based and mortal soul could only but be of service to the King that hovered before you. But your Heavenly escapdes were quickly brought down the sinful indulgence of the present as Lucifer curled his fingers up into you, massaging that perfect point on the front wall of your cunt racking your body with pleasure. 
“So sweet for me, such a precious little whore. You wanted to get fucked by the big bad King of Hell? Well, your wish is my command.”
Removing his fingers with a swift motion, leaving you no reprieve, he sunk his heady and heavy cock into you with one deft motion. Both of you moaning both at the sight and feeling, the delicious yet somewhat burning friction that both of you so desperately craved. Slowly thrusting, taking his time to draw out every noise, he relished in the sight below him. All laid out and pretty, moaning and writhing in pleasure all because of him, his power. How you had planned all of this just for him. You were truly such a loyal little sinner, so obedient and ready for him. After Lillith, he thought his life was crumbling, ready to end his own immortal exsistence. But there you came, waltzing into his life like you owned his soul and now here you were, eager and willing for him in every way he never thought possible. The thoughts alone nearly had Lucifer busting inside you, mumbling incoherently as he picked up the pace, driving deeper, the walls of your cunt squeezing onto him for dear life. The added weight and pace was becoming nearly too much. 
“Go on Ducky. Tell me….tell me how good I feel….”
“Fuck, good, so fucking good—” Sobs of pleasure racked your body, cute and plush face stained with streak of tears that Lucifer bent down to lick gently off your face. You can feel your release barreling towards you with a unrecognized speed. Maybe it was all the build up of this moment; how long you had imagined this very thing or maybe it is just that good, you’ll never know. But Lucifer knows your body like it’s his and it is. Where to drive, the right spot to hit every time that had the pressure building and building till you felt the coil in your stomach snap as you cry you lover’s name. 
Gasping for air, you peeked your head up as you calmed down, only to see Lucifer’s eyes completely dialated and black; staring at the way your body soaked up his seed. He did not move, admiring the full indent in your stomach as your body greedily swallowed his cock and cum, Heavens, he prayed it would take. 
“So ducky, feel like riling me up again anytime soon?”
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traumatrios · 9 months ago
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the name of the game
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pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader
wc… 2.3k
summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?
warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional
josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt
otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️
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Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely. 
He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 
His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.
He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.
Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 
Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 
Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.
But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 
The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.
Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.
But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.
It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 
The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?
How could he never notice you.
Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.
The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.
Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.
Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.
As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?
Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.
The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 
Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.
“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.
“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.
Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 
“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.
This got you to turn back around again.
Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 
One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 
“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 
Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?
You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.
Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.
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In Cape, everyone was a regular. 
It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.
When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.
He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.
You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.
That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.
He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.
And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.
As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.
“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 
“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”
Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.
You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.
“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 
Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?
He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 
“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.
“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?
You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 
“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.
“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.
But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.
Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 
You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 
Were you opposed? Not entirely. 
“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.
“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 
You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.
Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.
“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.
How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.
When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 
Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.
Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 
Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 
When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 
He liked how your game was turning out.
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traumatrios, 2024
divider by @saradika-graphics !
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jenscx · 1 year ago
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DAYLIGHT — yu jimin smau
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park y/n is known for many things. she’s known as a pretty streamer, a popular entertainer and a hothead when it comes to video games. it’s unfortunate that her rash personality erupts when she meets yu jimin in an overwatch match.
status loading... in progress!
# tags fluff, angst, influencer!jimin x streamer!reader, enemies to lovers, cursing, gamer!reader, toxic behaviour (in game), kys jokes, suggestive themes more to be added!
featuring aespa, lesserafim (chaewon, yunjin, sakura), ex-izone members (minju, yena, hyewon)
important ! this fic is not an accurate portrayal of the kpop idols mentioned. everything stated is fiction.
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characters e-girls | battle bus
00. prologue
01. reported
02. who’s that
03. degration kink
04. lying ass
05. shane dawson doc
06. WRONG KIM
07. the boy is mine
08. virgin activity
09. mentally insane
10. battleships
11. d-day [half-written]
12. sugar mama
13. separation anxiety
14. miss me
15. thinking bout you [half-written]
16. a few words
17. league of losers
18. dating rumours?
19. happy pride month!
20. PEANUT BUTTER
21. june vlog!
22. 163cm dwarf
23. inner alpha
24. FUCKASS ANIME FANS
bonus. is this easy mode?
25. fawking joe king
26. ratrina
27. la seduce
28. double it
29. digital footprint
30. inside out 2
31. wolf in her
32. bigfoot sighting
33. date (not clickbait) [half-written]
34. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂
35. OPERATION!
36. a situation.
37. suicide postponed
38. dawgmaster
39. poll time!
40. damn cigarette
41. #SAVEMINJEONG2024
bonus. miss twilight sparkle
42. apologies and reunions
43. dot dot dot
44. anger management
45. regina george
46. comic con dupe
47. REPORTED MISSING
48. silly little plan
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TAGLIST ! @imahallucination11 @wallfl9wer @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @1luvkarina @yeetaberry127 @saysirhc @somedaydream @sixflame438 @drvirgus (closed)
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bunniehrtz · 7 months ago
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basketball abby who needs to fuck you in her jersey before each game as her “good luck charm” .. :3
had to make abby emily coded. why wouldn’t i?
lmk if u want more bb!abby <3
“hi, baby,” you say, walking into the almost empty changing room. your girlfriend stands at the feet of her belongings, clad in her shorts and sports bra, her signature braid draped down her back.
“c’mere, sweet girl,” abby beckons you over, pulling you immediately into a messy, sloppy kiss. her tongue slips past your lips, causing you to gasp softly.
“abs, baby. you gotta get out there in, like, five minutes,” you breathily laugh, pulling away to look up at her. abby shakes her head, lifting your shirt up, throwing it behind her. before you could process her haste movements, abby picks her jersey up, putting it on your body.
“need my good luck charm. gonna be good for me, baby? gonna be my good luck charm?” abby whispers into your ear, slowly bending you over against the bench. you instinctively nod, feeling abby eye your back.
a big 21 is placed on your back, anderson written below it. the view incites a feeling of pride, yet extreme arousal in the blond. you gasp softly, feeling abby rip down your pants and underwear, her large palm kneading your ass.
“beautiful girl. my beautiful girl,” she whispers under her breath, taking her strap out from her shorts, teasing it at your weeping entrance.
“god, abs. please, no teasing,” you whimper, frowning at the dry laugh that leaves abby’s mouth.
“oh, baby. where’s the fun in that?” she teases even more, her smirk evident in her voice as she pushes through, your moans echoing through the empty changing room. your eyes open wide as you feel abby’s middle and ring fingers enter your mouth, her thumb closing it around them.
“gotta shut up, baby. can’t have everyone hearing how much of a slut you are for me, can we?” abby spits, her thrusts getting harsher and faster as she goes on. you shake your head, whimpering and borderline drooling down her fingers and your chin.
the friction of the base of her strap only brings abby closer to orgasm, feeling your cunt clench and tug at her faux cock signifying your release quickly catching up to you. your teeth bite down on abby’s soaked fingers, your hips pushing back against her own.
you turn to look up at abby over your shoulder. her flushed pink cheeks, the sweat dripping down from her forehead to her nose, the freckles on her shoulders just getting too much for you and your poor pussy.
“god- fuck!” you spit abby’s fingers out of your mouth, your moans and whimpers bouncing from wall to wall as you feel your stomach drop, your vision turn white and abby’s deep voice in your ear.
“yeah, i know, baby. cum for me, dirty fuckin’ girl,” she spits, watching as your body collapses onto the bench below you.
the next 5 minutes feel like a blur, you vaguely can remember abby getting dressed, dressing you back up, placing a kiss on your lips as you sigh, “good luck, baby.”
you sit on bench court side, the ache between your legs still there, now only aching for abby to be back where she belongs. your eyes catch hers, drifting up and down her body, landing at the bulge almost protruding from her shorts. she sends you a wink, you roll your eyes jokingly in return. perv.
taglist @queenofmistresses @bambishaven @abigails-gf @drunkelliewilliams @aouiaa @dykeanderson @abbysprettygiiirl @toasthatervee @marsworlddd
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demonlorddiva · 2 months ago
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Obey me! Brothers when your drunk!
You did really good on a test you’ve been working on and Diavolo said you could have anything you wanted! Any other human would ask for money, a vacation, or anything their hearts desired. But you? Your simple. Without the ability to buy human world alcohol in the devildom you asked diavolo to pick you up some for a night of fun! (And chaos) you decide that staying home and drinking is the best option as to not be in danger of other demons. How will the other brothers react?
*Obvi the reader is over 21 or the age of consuming alcohol in their country
Lucifer
You decided that since drinking demonus with him was one of your regular dates in his office, you could do the same thing and drink with him!
He’s glad to see you don’t want to leave the house. And that you want to drink with him makes him even more at ease
Plus his pride is soaring that hes the first person to see you drunk
The night is simple, drinks, music, and a wonderful conversation
It’s not often he gets to let loose and drink to his hearts desire, and with you? What a better time
If your walking funny he immediately picks you up and takes you to his room at the end of the night
He wants to make sure your okay through the night (and he wants to cuddle) (he’s v affectionate when he’s drunk)
He knew the night was happening, so by his bedside is pain meds, water, electrolytes, the whole nine yards
Will cuddle you in the morning and tease you about the silly things you said
Mammon
PARTY TIMEEEEE
You don’t wanna leave the house
He whines
You put your foot down
INDOOR PARTY TIMEEEE
You know he has his room set up for the perfect movie night, pillows, blankets, popcorn, the whole nine yards
Has a drinking game set up so you both can play
And ofc he set up the rules so you would both be hammered even before the movie ended
But the popcorn ran out and you guys are still hungry
Y’all have to hold hands as you go downstairs to the kitchen to make some instant noodles for each other
Lucifer catches y’all being too rowdy and forces y’all to go to bed
Mammon is absolutely WRECKED when he’s hungover (the hangsiety is real) not to mention his head pounding and his stomach hurting
You both spend the next day cuddling, with you telling him how much you love him, and how you think he’s still so cool even after you saw him faceplant on the floor
Levi
A night??? With you??? And you’ll be drunk??
He assures you multiple times that your safe and he absolutely doesn’t want to take advantage of you (not that you were worried in the slightest about that) (Levi bb calm down)
Y’all decide to play devil beerio kart (it’s like beerio kart if you’ve ever played, I’ll explain the rules)
Basically NO DRUNK DRIVING
During one race, you have to finish your beer (or other drink) you can drink it all before the race, stop any time in between, or stop before you finish the race and chug your drink
After a few races y’all are LIT
You guys end up yapping for a while before you put on an anime and cuddle (Levi’s to drunk to be nervous)
When you both wake up your hurting and hungover and Levi is FREAKING
The hangsiety is real with him
Just keep cuddling with him and tell him it’s okay and to fall back asleep
Satan
He seems like the guy who doesn’t care to drink
But for you? And to see you drink? But of course
I think y’all pull out a board game or card game and take a shot every time you lose
He’s curious after every drink how your feeling even though his ability to remember things is getting fogged
He’s giggly when he’s drunk, and that’s a somewhat rare sight in your day to day life so you spend the rest of the night laughing and talking
Hates that your hurting in the morning (even though this was your idea)
Has all the medicines and drinks for you on hand to help you feel better
Demands silence in the house so your headache doesn’t get worse
Asmo
PARTY TIME
I mean.. this is a special occasion right? Just because you can’t leave the house doesn’t mean you can’t have fun!
A slumber party is in order with all the works! Face masks, popcorn and snacks, and doing your nails of course.
Y’all get silly and chat and gossip all night
But you have to tell him NO PICTURES even if he begs
I feel like y’all get super sappy drunk girl talking
“NO YOUR THE GREATEST PERSON IVE MET”
At some point, after a bit of drinking someone (both of ya) get the great idea to start prank calling people
You: “is your refrigerator running?”
Beel: “uhhh yeah”
You: “well then you better go catch it!!” *click*
The other brothers had to deal with Beel guarding the fridge in fear that it would ‘run away’
We all know you guys are BIG BABIES the next day being hungover
Be prepared to cuddle and complain together all the next day
Beel
He also doesn’t seem to be a drinking guy
But he’s down to try anything! I think he’d like cocktails with fun ingredients
DEF loves Bloody Mary’s
So I think that’s the night, y’all spend your night in the kitchen coming up with different drinks and getting drunker along the way
Y’all order WAYYY too much Chinese takeout and have a great time
Feel like beel gets sappy when he’s tipsy and tells you how much he cares about you and y’all snuggle and stuff
Makes you a DELICIOUS hangover meal for you
Like a Waffle House setup but at home
Def cuddles you and is worried if you feel bad the next day (I feel like beel doesn’t get hangovers)
Belphie
Feel like he’s not a drinker as well
But the opportunity to drink with you? And he’s the only one who can see? Oh yeah he needs to see this
Y’all decide a movie drinking game.
Example: watch pirates of the Caribbean and drink every time they say captain or ship
Y’all get lit QUICK
Decide to pull a prank on Lucifer and you guys talk FOREVER about the plan, what your gonna do and it’s happening TONIGHT
.. queue YALL falling asleep and never do anything LMAO
The next day is full of bedrotting and sleeping
He makes fun of you for anything silly you did
But you can make fun of him back, the way he was stumbling was really funny
In true drinking fashion I wrote this while I was drunk HELLO
Obviously not proofread love you!!! Been really sad about the story not continuing with obey me so I’ll be posting my drafts and more ideas a bit more often for a while
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peachylynnie · 25 days ago
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ace
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word count: 1.7k
synopsis: in which sylus defies all logic and odds, just for you.
contains: part 2 of blackjack, sylus x fem!reader (non mc, first time meeting), slightly obsessive sylus, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of weapons and violence, and gambling (know the rules of blackjack).
a/n: in blackjack, you want to get as close as you can to 21 without going over. to bust means to go over 21. to stay means to stay with the cards you have. you can tap for more cards or wave to stay. a natural (best outcome) means you immediately get 21 with your initial cards. but, you don't have to get to 21 to win. so long as the dealer has a worse hand than you, you win. essentially, it's a game against the dealer, not the people you play with. reblogs & comments are appreciated.
previous chapter | lads masterlist | next chapter
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sylus has never lost in blackjack before.
he's mastered every gambling card game for the sake of business deals and corrupt clients. and yet, here you are, spitting at his mastery as you flip another twenty, forcing him to either stay at his nineteen or risk a bust. and sylus never stays or busts in blackjack.
while your hands question almost every statistic and probability out there, your expression is what truly does it for him. even though you've only been winning, you haven't shown a trace of happiness or any other emotion normally present at a poker table. there's nothing when your opponents raise their bets, nothing when you win their bets, and infuriatingly nothing when your silver-haired opponent leans on the table and gazes at you hungrily after you take his chips for the umpteenth time tonight.
chuckling to himself, sylus can't help but think, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours? what will it take for you to look at him with half the interest he's looking at you with right now?
"because the lounge closes in less than thirty minutes," you gesture to the clock, snapping the silver-haired man out of his thoughts. "this will be the final round."
you hand a deck of cards to sylus, signaling him to shuffle. he takes it from you, trying not to shudder when his finger grazes yours.
sherman and his lackey groan upon checking how many chips they have left. "and here i thought blackjack was the easiest game against the house," the former complains as he lights a cigar.
"perhaps," the latter starts carefully, "we can wager something different this round." he shares a knowing look with his boss before turning to sylus. "what do you think, mr. sylus?"
sylus sighs as he finishes shuffling the deck. that idiot messed up his shuffle. great, now he looks like an idiot to you. "what would you like to wager?" he huffs as he places the deck in front of you.
"the deal, sylus," sherman snaps. "if i win, we have a deal."
sylus laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. seems like the imbecile finally decided to drop his friendly act. "and what will your little employee wager?" he asks with faux curiosity.
"that depends on the lady in front of us, mr. sylus," the man in question answers before licking his lips at you. "say, miss dealer. if i win, how about you accompany mr. sherman and me back to a hotel nearby? we promise you'll be thoroughly compensated."
the head of onychinus stands up swiftly, his hands curling into fists. he should have seen this coming. the knowing look sherman and his lackey shared earlier wasn't just a shot at trapping him into a deal; it was an attempt at you and who knows what nauseating desires. before he can pummel the two men into the ground, you speak.
"i'm afraid that won't be possible, gentlemen," you pick up a chip and flip it between your knuckles. "the main objective of blackjack is to beat the dealer, not to win exclusively." your eyes never leave the chip. "for example, what will happen to your wagers if only i win?" you place the chip down. "in other words, multiple wagers are useless in blackjack due to its main objective."
sylus smirks as he sits down, pride blooming in his chest. not only were you good at blackjack, but you were also good at navigating your way in and out of technicalities. oh, he's definitely buying you a drink after this. you earned it. besides, he's curious to know what a talented little lamb like you is doing in the n109 zone. maybe a drink or two will soften you up and lay your mind bare.
"what would you suggest, miss dealer?" sherman questions angrily, his eye twitching. "you're impossible to beat, and unfortunately," he chucks a gun onto the table, "i'm not walking away without a deal."
sylus tenses. you don't flinch.
"change the main objective," you eloquently respond as you reach for the deck of cards sylus shuffled. "the three of you will play against each other, and whoever gains a blackjack or the hand closest to it will have their wager fulfilled." you fingers never slip as you pass out the cards. "while a tie may be possible, the likelihood will be drastically reduced, as you will no longer be playing to beat me." your braid your fingers and rest them against your stomach, your eyes unwavering. "you will be playing to win."
while sherman and his lackey mull over your proposal, sylus takes a sip from his glass, his eyes glued to you. what could you possibly gain from this? no bets you can profit from have been placed. not to mention your choice to stay out of this round just cost you your chance to prevent sherman and his lackey from fulfilling their profane desires. his brows furrow, no longer enjoying the feeling nor taste of fizz on his tongue. this entire night you've only led him in circles, forcing him to deal with your unpredictable actions and signature indifference. does he hate this? fuck no. your antics give him a sense of desire, a drive—something he's been severely lacking for a while.
but, sylus' patience is wearing thin. he swears if he can't get you to look at him with anything but that damned emptiness, he's going to force his way into your eyes until they are filled to the brim with nothing but him, him, him.
"mr. sylus?" sherman's lackey snaps him out of his thoughts. "your wager?"
"ah," sylus places his glass down, ignoring the cracks forming on it from how tightly he was gripping it. "if i win-"
he pauses, noticing something.
"miss dealer, why did you give yourself cards? i thought you weren't playing," he inquires with a tilt of his head.
"i gave myself cards to stay true to the dealing rules of blackjack," you answer calmly, extending your arm towards sherman's cards to begin the game. "don't worry, mr. sylus. i won't be playing this round, only dealing. my cards are facedown, after all."
sylus inhales sharply. you said his name. you said his name for the first time. and fuck, did it feel so good to hear it on your tongue.
"stay or hit, mr. sherman?" you option the man. he has an ace of spades and a seven of hearts, giving him eighteen. the man takes another puff of smoke before tapping the table. "a hit," you confirm before flipping a four of clubs. the man curses loudly, sputtering on his cigar. "too high," you declare as you immediately move on to his lackey.
"stay or hit?" you repeat. the lackey has an ace of hearts and an eight of clubs, giving him nineteen. the man sighs before waving a hand. "stay," you confirm before turning to sylus.
you still upon seeing his cards. a ten of diamonds and a nine of spades, bringing him to tie with sherman's lackey. so much for the likelihood of a tie being dramatically reduced. you exhale before asking, "stay or hit?"
"hm," sylus hums. he could technically stay and walk away with a tie. sherman won't be selling him fake protocores since he lost, and his lackey won't get his way with you since he tied. besides, hitting would be risky since the chances of getting a two are barely one percent, and the chances of getting an ace are either four or two percent, depending on what you have.
sylus tilts his head, realizing something.
"miss dealer, may i look at your cards?"
"i don't see why not," you say after a few seconds, ignoring sherman and his lackey's complaints.
"thank you, miss dealer," he purrs, reaching for your cards. "you won't regret it."
you don't say anything. you just cross your arms and lean against the table, resuming your unconcerned demeanor.
sylus grins after flipping your cards. an ace of diamonds and a ten of diamonds. you had a fucking blackjack. for the nth time of the night, you drew another natural. there's no way he's letting you go after this, not after you reduced his chances of getting an ace from four to two percent.
at this point, you've already realized why sylus wanted to see your cards. he was trying to gauge his chances of getting an ace, but since you had the third one from the deck, his chances were now fatally low. not to mention, his chances of getting a two were also low, meaning staying was the best option. you reach for his cards, hoping to clean up and get the fuck out of the n109 zone because you know from the depraved looks he's been giving you, prolonging your stay would be dangerous.
but what you don't know is the type of person sylus is. he's the type of person to spit in the face of fate, probabilities, and every distinct concept known to dictate humanity. people don't call him a "relentless conqueror" for nothing. unfortunately for you, this man has found something he relentlessly wants to conquer: your fucking attention. he makes that very clear when he taps the table.
and god, is he glad he decided to hit because you finally reacted to him.
your once-indifferent eyes were now faltering with uncertainty. your once-crossed arms were now hanging loosely at your sides. your once-relaxed voice was now quivering as you asked, "i'm sorry, a hit?"
sylus runs a finger upon his lips, trying to control his manic grin. oh, you looked utterly confused, and he was all for it. never has he seen such a beautiful and enticing sight: you, pushed to the absolute brink with your eyes bewitchingly transfixed on him, trying to figure out why the hell he would hit when his chances of winning are painstakingly low.
"yes, sweetie." your brows furrow when he calls you that. "a hit," he confirms with a teasing smile.
you gape at him (yes, keep looking at him like that; fill your eyes with him and him only) for a few more seconds before reaching for a card. people just really like to gamble, you reason. there's no way an ace can come out of this. however, your lips can't help but part when you flip over the card.
an ace of clubs.
he won.
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novaursa · 5 months ago
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Fires That Never Freeze
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- Summary: You receive the news about Rhaenys' death at Rook's Rest, before Jace arrives as he secures the Twins.
- Pairing: targ!reader/Cregan Stark
- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is only daughter of Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes and is bonded to a dragon. These events happen after The Heir of Ice and Ash. To read all parts in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Explicit 18+
- Word count: 5 524
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess
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You cradle your son, Killian, against your chest, his soft breath a soothing rhythm amidst the storm brewing in your heart. His dark hair is thick for one so young, a stark contrast to your own silver strands that cascade down like a river of moonlight, braided intricately yet now trembling at the edges as you shudder with grief. His violet eyes—your eyes—peek up at you in curiosity, innocent to the world that has been drenched in blood and betrayal. You wish you could preserve this innocence forever, shield him from the horrors beyond these stone walls, but you know all too well that the winds of war spare no one.
The letter lies crumpled beside you, the wax seal of the Three-Headed Dragon snapped in two. The words are still fresh, cutting through you like Valyrian steel, sharper than any sword you could ever wield. Your grandmother—brave, indomitable Rhaenys—is gone. The Queen Who Never Was met her end at Rook’s Rest, where she and Meleys faced the combined fury of Vhagar and Sunfyre. The account is almost too monstrous to believe: how Meleys’ head was severed and paraded as a trophy, how Aegon the Usurper was carried away like a broken thing, sealed in a crate to hide his mangled form. They say he is scarcely more than a corpse now, held together only by pride and the twisted whims of fate.
Your tears fall silently, trailing over Killian’s soft cheeks as he looks up at you, gurgling without a care in the world. He knows nothing of what has been lost, what will never be.
Suddenly, you feel Cregan’s presence behind you—warm and steady like the roots of an ancient tree. He kneels by your side, his grey eyes searching yours with concern. His large, calloused hand rests gently on your back, grounding you in the present. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice soft as the snow falling outside. “I heard. The raven...”
You can’t find the strength to speak, so you only nod. He understands without needing further words; he always has. The Lord of Winterfell was never meant for courtly games or gilded halls, but here in the cold North, his honesty and strength have become your rock amidst all the chaos. Yet even his unwavering strength can’t shield you from this hurt.
“I thought dragons were… unkillable,” Cregan says after a pause, his voice rough with both sorrow and disbelief. “The stuff of legends, creatures older than men, forged in fire. I thought they were eternal.”
You blink away the tears that threaten to blind you and force yourself to meet his gaze. There is no room for illusions, not in this world where even gods bleed. “Anything can be killed, Cregan,” you whisper, voice trembling yet laced with a fierce conviction. “Even the gods. Even kings and Kingmakers alike.” The venom laced in the last words is unmistakable. Ser Criston Cole, the leech in royal armor, the wretched man who enabled this war to take root with his false oaths and blackened soul—how you despise him. The thought of him twisting the fate of nations with his cruelty makes bile rise in your throat
Cregan’s brow furrows as he takes in your words. He knows of your distaste for Cole, for all those who put ambition over loyalty, who would see the world burn if only to rule over the ashes. He moves closer, wrapping a protective arm around you and Killian. “You’re right,” he says quietly, his voice a deep rumble, “but we’re still here, and we’ll fight back for those we’ve lost. For those who remain.”
Killian shifts in your arms, cooing softly, as if sensing the turmoil in your heart. You lean into Cregan’s warmth, letting yourself take solace in the strength he offers. “Rhaenys was always so brave,” you murmur, your voice breaking slightly. “She defied them all her life, never once bending to their will. They feared her because she was a woman who would not be cowed, and now… they parade her death like some kind of victory.”
“They can parade all they like,” Cregan says, his voice turning steely, “but a victory built on treachery and murder will crumble. Aegon’s body may still cling to life, but his cause is already rotting from within. The realm will see it.”
His words, though meant to comfort, bring little ease. The war rages on, and with it, the losses mount like a tolling bell. Your heart aches, both for those who have fallen and for those who must still face what lies ahead. Yet, as you look down at Killian, you feel a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. He is a symbol of all you fight for—a future not bound by the horrors of the past, but shaped by those who endure.
“Thraxata will know,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Cregan, your thoughts turning to your own dragon, the Midnight Fury. “She will mourn with me.”
Cregan tightens his grip around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. “And when the time comes, she’ll fight with you too, alongside us all. This isn’t over, Y/N. We have something they’ll never understand—a love forged in fire and ice, bound by loyalty.”
You close your eyes and let yourself be held, the flicker of strength in your chest rekindling. The tears still fall, but now, with every drop, there is something else too—a growing resolve. Rhaenys’ death will not be in vain. The world will hear the roar of her legacy through you, through your son, and through every soul that refuses to bow to the false kings who sit on thrones built on blood.
For now, you hold your family close, taking what comfort you can in the warmth of Cregan’s embrace, in the small heartbeat thrumming steadily against your chest. The autumn winds howl outside, but here, amidst stone and fur, there is still love, still life. The storm may rage, but you will not break.
Not yet.
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The weirwood stands tall and ancient, its pale bark almost glowing in the dim twilight. The blood-red leaves flutter softly in the breeze, a stark contrast against the gray skies overhead. You feel small before it, like a child gazing up at something vast and unfathomable. The face carved into the heart tree’s trunk stares down at you with those deep, knowing eyes, as if it sees not just you, but every thought, every secret tucked away in the recesses of your soul.
You’ve been standing here longer than you intended, lost in the quiet of this sacred place. Yet, beneath the peace, there’s an unease gnawing at you. The chill of autumn clings to your skin, sharper now, more present. It crawls into your bones, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You’re here, but not truly—your thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind.
For a moment, everything sharpens. You feel the press of the cold more keenly now, and your breath curls in the air like faint wisps of smoke. Then, the world begins to shift. The rustle of the leaves grows distant, muffled, until it’s almost drowned out by something else—a whisper that’s barely more than a breath, carried on the wind. You stiffen, your heart quickening. It’s a voice, faint yet clear as the first crack of ice on a frozen lake.
Y/N.
It speaks your name, though you cannot tell whether it’s a man’s voice or a woman’s. It sounds old, ageless even, and it seems to echo within your mind as much as in the air around you. A rush of images floods your vision—flashes of faces, places, events yet to come or perhaps already past. You see fire and blood, wings spreading wide against a burning sky. There’s the glint of steel, a flash of a crown—someone crying out, their voice lost in a roar of flames. 
Then, as suddenly as it came, the frenzy halts. You stagger back a step, your surroundings snapping back into focus, the world real again. But the cold clings to you, more than it did before. The weirwood watches you, its eyes holding secrets it will never share. You swallow, trying to steady your breath, your heart pounding loud enough to drown out all else.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts, pulling you back fully to the present.
You turn, dazed, and see Cregan striding toward you, his expression tense with concern. Behind him is Maester Kennet, his gray robes fluttering as he hurries to keep pace. Cregan’s eyes are locked on you, his brows drawn together, the worry evident in his every movement. “What’s wrong? You’ve been out here too long—it’s freezing.” His tone is gentle, but there’s an edge to it, the underlying fear for your well-being.
You blink, still feeling the lingering echoes of the vision, the remnants of those hurried images flickering in your mind’s eye. “I… I’m fine,” you say, but your voice is shakier than you intend, betraying the truth of your unease.
Cregan stops in front of you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one roughened hand, his thumb brushing against your cold skin. “You don’t look fine, love,” he murmurs, eyes searching yours as if trying to find the cause of whatever has you so shaken. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure,” you admit, closing your eyes briefly as you lean into his touch. “The weirwood… I thought I heard something. Saw something.”
Maester Kennet approaches cautiously, his gaze darting between you and the heart tree. “The Old Gods have their ways of sending messages, Lady Y/N,” he says softly. “The weirwoods are their eyes, their ears. It is not unheard of for them to reach out to those who carry their favor.” 
Cregan frowns at that, his grip on you tightening protectively. “She’s been out here too long, alone,” he says, not taking his eyes off you. “Whatever she saw or heard can wait until she’s had some rest.”
But Maester Kennet shakes his head, his face grim as he pulls a folded letter from his robes. “I wouldn’t have interrupted if it weren’t important. A raven came not long ago—from the Twins. Your brother, Jacaerys, has secured passage for his forces. He’s on his way to meet you, Lady Y/N.”
The words bring a sudden, fierce surge of emotion—relief mixed with dread. Jacaerys is alive, fighting as he always promised he would. Yet with every victory comes new dangers, new battles. And the visions, whatever they meant, linger in your mind like a shadow cast over the joy of the news.
Cregan, ever perceptive, sees the conflict in your eyes and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll face whatever comes,” he promises, his voice a low rumble, the kind that always makes you feel like you’re standing on solid ground, even when the world tilts.
You manage a small smile, nodding. “Yes…”
But as you glance back at the weirwood, its face still and expressionless, you can’t shake the feeling that the Old Gods are watching more keenly than ever. The autumn winds whisper secrets you’re not sure you want to hear, and deep in your heart, you sense that whatever lies ahead, the choices you make will ripple far beyond the snow-covered hills of the North.
With a deep breath, you turn away from the tree, allowing Cregan’s steady presence to guide you back toward Winterfell, leaving the whispers of the gods behind—for now.
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The winds bite sharper today, swirling through the bare branches of the godswood and over the snow-covered battlements of Winterfell. You stand beside Cregan at the edge of the courtyard, your cloak pulled tight against the chill. Thraxata looms behind you, her obsidian scales gleaming in the pale winter light. The Midnight Fury’s violet eyes are fixed on the skies above, where your brother is soon to arrive. The air hums with anticipation, the kind that makes your heart race and your fingers twitch. Beside you, Cregan rests a hand on the pommel of his sword, his gaze as steady as the stone walls that surround you.
“Are you ready?” Cregan’s voice is low, warm like a hearth fire, grounding you in the present moment.
You nod, though the tension in your chest remains. “I haven’t seen Jacaerys in so long. I only hope he’s as safe as his letter claimed.”
Cregan squeezes your hand, a brief but reassuring gesture. “If he’s anything like you, he’ll be stronger than ever.”
You smile at his words, but the edge of worry still lingers. War changes people, molds them into something else—sometimes into something harder, colder. You’ve seen it already in the eyes of the soldiers who have passed through Winterfell, men whose laughter now rings hollow, whose smiles are mere shadows. What has the war made of your brother?
Before your thoughts can spiral further, the distant roar of a dragon echoes through the sky, accompanied by the deep flap of massive wings. All eyes turn upward, and there—emerging from the rolling clouds—is Vermax. His green and bronze scales shimmer with an ethereal glow against the muted grays of the northern sky, his wings outstretched as he circles lower. Your heart lifts at the sight, despite everything.
Thraxata rumbles low in her throat, a sound that’s half-greeting, half-challenge. She shifts, restless, her powerful tail sweeping across the ground and leaving deep grooves in the snow. You place a calming hand on her side, feeling the heat radiating from her scales, even in the biting cold. “Easy, girl,” you murmur, though a part of you understands her unease. The bond between dragon and rider is one forged in fire and instinct—Thraxata senses your tension as clearly as you do.
Vermax lands with a powerful thud in the courtyard, snow scattering like dust beneath his claws. Jacaerys dismounts swiftly, his dark curls wild from the wind, his face shadowed with exhaustion and resolve. His eyes—dark brown—search the crowd until they find you. Despite the grimness that hangs about him, a grin breaks across his face.
“Y/N!” His voice is hoarse, but filled with unmistakable affection.
You rush forward, closing the distance between you, and throw your arms around him. For a moment, you’re children again, finding comfort in each other amidst the storms that have always threatened to tear your family apart. But the moment is brief, tinged with the weight of all that has passed. When you pull back, you can see the subtle changes in him—the deeper lines etched into his face, the hardened edge in his gaze.
“Brother,” you breathe, cupping his face, your thumb brushing against the scar just above his brow—a mark of a recent battle, no doubt. “You’ve grown into a man of war.”
Jacaerys huffs a quiet laugh, though it lacks the lightness it once held. “It seems the war gives us little choice in what we become.” His gaze flickers over your shoulder, landing on Cregan. “Lord Stark,” he greets formally, though the respect in his tone is genuine. “Your hospitality has been unmatched. It’s a comfort to know my sister has found such a strong ally—and husband.”
Cregan inclines his head, his usual sternness softened slightly by a hint of warmth. “Your family is ours now, Jacaerys. Winterfell stands with you, as do the men of the North. We fight together.”
The words, though simple, carry a promise, one that Jacaerys seems to take solace in. He nods, a flicker of relief crossing his features before his expression grows serious once more. “The Twins have bent the knee. Their armies are ready to march when we give the word. The Riverlands will rally to our cause, though they’ve suffered much at the hands of the greens.”
You clench your fists at your sides, feeling the familiar fire of rage ignite in your belly at the thought of those who serve the usurper, those who’ve turned against your mother, against your family. “We’ll make them pay for every drop of blood spilled,” you vow, your voice cold with determination. “They’ll learn the price of treachery when fire and blood rain upon them.”
Jacaerys’ gaze meets yours, a shared understanding passing between you. “We will, sister,” he says quietly. “But we must be wise in how we strike. Our enemies are many, and some hide in shadows even we haven’t uncovered.”
As he speaks, the men of Winterfell gather closer, eager to hear news from the South. Thraxata moves to stand beside Vermax, her violet eyes fixed on him, a low rumble vibrating through her chest. Vermax, ever the more temperate of the two, remains still, watching her with a calm curiosity. The two dragons are like night and day, one fierce and unpredictable, the other steady and patient—a reflection of the bond shared between their riders.
Maester Kennet steps forward from the crowd, ever the dutiful servant, and bows his head. “My lord, my lady,” he addresses you both, “the men are ready to host your brother and his retinue. Supplies are being gathered for the march south, but it would do you both good to rest and break bread together before the night grows colder.”
Cregan nods, though his gaze remains fixed on Jacaerys. “You’ve traveled far, and winter’s grip grows tighter by the day. We’ll speak of war and plans soon enough. Tonight, we celebrate family.”
Jacaerys glances at you, his eyes softening briefly before he returns his attention to Cregan. “I’d welcome that. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the warmth of kin.” He turns to you once more, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Mother would want us to stand strong, Y/N. For her, for all of us.”
You swallow back the knot in your throat, nodding. “We will, Jace. We will.”
As you walk back toward the Great Hall, arm in arm with your brother and Cregan beside you, the dragons shift close behind ready to take flight, their steps heavy on the snow-covered earth. Above, the first stars begin to pierce the twilight sky, cold and distant. You can still feel the echoes of the weirwood’s whispers, the glimpses of futures yet unwritten. But here, with your family by your side, you draw strength from the bonds that even war cannot break.
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The Great Hall of Winterfell is alive with the low murmur of voices and the crackle of hearth fires. The long table is crowded with Stark bannermen, their weathered faces drawn with the seriousness of the discussion. The banners of the North hang proudly on the walls—gray direwolves on fields of white and gray. The smell of pinewood smoke and spiced wine fills the air, mingling with the scent of roasted meats brought out for the evening. It is a scene both warm and solemn, a brief moment of respite before the weight of strategy drags everyone back into the cold reality of war.
You sit beside Cregan at the head of the table, your hand resting on his arm as Jacaerys stands before the gathered lords. He wears his determination like armor, though there is a heaviness in his eyes that no amount of resolve can mask. His voice, strong despite the weariness clinging to him, rings out over the hall.
“Our enemies have grown bolder since my brother’s and grandmother's murders. Aemond has broken the oldest of laws—he’s a kinslayer, and for that, he’s forfeited not only his honor but any right to mercy. The greens think the deaths of Luke and Rhaenys will weaken us, make us retreat into mourning. They’re wrong.” His words are met with murmurs of agreement, grim nods from the assembled bannermen.
Lord Cregan speaks next, his voice deep and measured. “Justice for Prince Lucerys and Princess Rhaenys will be served, Jacaerys, but the North is not free of its own burdens. The men and Houses we pledged to your cause will march with you as promised—greybeards and veterans who have survived more winters than most. But the majority of our forces must remain here, at least until the winds shift and winter’s bite eases.”
A rumble of assent follows Cregan’s words. The greybeards, some of whom are gathered here tonight, nod their heads, weathered faces set in stony determination. These are men who’ve lived through harsh winters, wars, and endless trials. They know the cost of every step taken southward, but they also understand the weight of their oaths.
You lean forward, feeling the cold steel of duty and sorrow twisting within you. “The Wall grows restless,” you add, your voice quieter but cutting through the room. “Reports from our scouts say the wildlings stir, and there are whispers of darker things in the woods. The North cannot abandon its duties here, not entirely, not with winter closing in. We fight on two fronts—one for vengeance, and one to hold back the darkness that always comes with the cold.”
Jacaerys’ jaw tightens, though there’s no anger in his gaze, only acceptance. “I know what I ask of you, of the North. I wouldn’t pull you from your duties lightly. But we’re in desperate need of men who’ve seen true battle—men who won’t falter when the greens come for us again.” He looks around the table, locking eyes with each of the bannermen. “Aemond’s murders of Luke and Rhaenys aren't just an insult to my family, it’s a warning of what’s to come. They’ll strike at us all, one by one, until there’s nothing left to fight for.”
Maester Kennet, seated near the fire, clears his throat, his thin fingers wrapped around a goblet. “A measured approach is wise. The North is vast, and winter makes even the shortest march an ordeal. Splitting our forces to both hold the Wall and reinforce the Riverlands is a sound strategy. But we cannot be reckless. The cold is our greatest enemy—aside from the greens themselves.”
A grizzled voice interrupts, belonging to Lord Harwood Flint. “We’ve sworn our oaths to your mother, Prince Jacaerys, and those oaths stand. The greybeards and I will march south, aye, but only as far as the weather allows. If winter deepens, we’ll be forced to retreat—lest we lose more men to frost than to battle.”
Lord Cregan nods solemnly. “The North keeps its promises, Jace, but our duty here is unbreakable. If winter passes, we’ll ride in full force, dragons and all. Until then, you’ll have what men we can spare, the strongest and the most experienced. The rest must remain to guard our lands and prepare for whatever winter may bring.”
You watch Jacaerys as he absorbs their words, weighing them against the urgency of his mission. It’s a hard truth, but one he’s known in his heart. “I understand,” he finally says, though the strain in his voice is evident. “The North has always held its ground when others falter. Your men’s presence in the Riverlands will tip the scales more than you know. We’ll make every sacrifice count, for all of our sakes.”
A silence falls over the hall, filled only by the crackling of the fires and the occasional clink of cups against wood. It’s a heavy silence, the kind that carries the weight of lives yet to be lost, battles yet to be fought. You feel the tension in your own shoulders, the mix of sorrow and determination that has become all too familiar.
Cregan’s voice breaks the silence, firm and resolute. “Then it’s settled. The North will march with you, Jacaerys, and we’ll hold the line here until the time is right to unleash the full might of Winterfell. The Wall must remain guarded, our lands defended. But rest assured—the North remembers, and we will have vengeance for both Lucerys and Rhaenys.”
Jacaerys meets his gaze with a nod of gratitude, his eyes glistening with something more than just determination—hope, perhaps, or at least the stubborn refusal to let despair take root. “Thank you, Cregan. Thank you all. My mother will hear of your loyalty, and when the time comes, I’ll see that those who’ve wronged us pay with fire and blood.”
You reach out, placing a hand on Jacaerys’ arm, drawing his attention back to you. “We’ll see this through together, Jace,” you say softly, yet with unshakable conviction. “For Luke. For our family.”
His lips press into a tight line, but he nods, and in that moment, you see the boy you once knew, the one who would always protect his siblings, no matter the cost. War has hardened him, yes, but it hasn’t broken his spirit. And for that, you’re grateful.
The meeting ends with agreements made, plans solidified. As the lords begin to rise and drift away, you, Cregan, and Jacaerys remain, sharing a moment of quiet amidst the chaos. Thraxata and Vermax can be heard outside, their low growls a reminder that no matter how heavy the burden, you are not alone in this fight.
You glance at Cregan, who offers you a small, reassuring smile, and then at Jacaerys, whose eyes hold the same fire that burns within you. The North may be bound by its duties to the Wall, but when the time comes, it will roar in unison, and the South will tremble beneath the weight of vengeance and justice.
Until then, you steel yourself for the battles to come, knowing that winter is both your enemy and your greatest ally. The North will remember, and so will the world.
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The chambers are dimly lit, the glow of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The scent of pine and smoke lingers in the air, mingling with the faint hint of sage and lavender from the herbs hung above the door. Outside, the cold wind howls, but in here, the warmth is grounding—a cocoon that holds only the two of you.
You stand before the fire, watching the flames dance, lost in the flicker of embers. Thoughts of the day’s discussions linger in your mind, heavy like the weight of armor. You’re still processing the event, the decisions, and the weight of what’s to come. But for now, those thoughts seem distant as you feel Cregan’s presence behind you. His steps are soft as he approaches, yet you can sense the strength in each movement. When he wraps his arms around you from behind, drawing you into his chest, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Y/N,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice a deep rumble. There’s a tenderness there that you’ve come to cherish—an intimacy that only grows with each passing day. You lean back into him, feeling his warmth seep into your skin, grounding you in this moment, away from the burden of duty and war.
His hands slide over your waist, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that never fades, no matter how many times he’s touched you this way. “You’re troubled,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. It’s not a question; he knows you too well.
You close your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. “I’ve been thinking… about everything. About Jace, the war, what lies ahead. But mostly… about what I felt in the godswood.”
Cregan’s hands still for a moment, his grip tightening just slightly. He turns you gently to face him, his eyes searching yours, concern and affection mingling in his gaze. “You saw something, didn’t you?” he asks quietly.
You nod, reaching up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, roughened by stubble. “I did, but I don’t want to think about it right now,” you whisper, letting your thumb brush over his lips. “Right now, I just want to feel alive. I want to feel us.”
Something shifts in his gaze, the concern giving way to something deeper, more primal. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, drawing you closer, and when his lips finally meet yours, it’s with a passion that sends a surge of heat through you. The kiss is slow at first, a tender exploration, but it quickly deepens, becoming something more urgent, more consuming.
You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you press closer, your bodies molding together as if trying to erase any distance between you. His hands roam over you, rough and strong, yet every touch is filled with affection. It’s a contrast that you’ve always found intoxicating—the fierce warrior and the gentle lover, both sides of him intertwined in every caress.
Cregan’s mouth trails down your neck, leaving a line of burning kisses along your skin. “Y/N,” he growls against your throat, his voice thick with desire. “You’re mine.”
You shiver at the possessiveness in his tone, the words igniting something deep within you. “Yours,” you breathe, tugging at his tunic, eager to feel the heat of his skin against yours.
Clothes fall away with hurried hands, the cold air biting at your exposed skin for only a moment before the warmth of Cregan’s body presses against you. You pull him with you, leading him to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he lays you down then, his weight a comforting pressure above you.
The passion between you ignites like wildfire. His hands grip your hips as he enters you, and you gasp, arching into him as he moves with a rhythm that feels like a dance, one you’ve perfected together over countless nights. Every thrust is filled with a mixture of desire and love, each one drawing you closer to the edge, making the world beyond these walls fade away until there’s only him—only you.
Your hands roam over his back, nails digging in as the pleasure builds, each moan, each whispered word of affection driving you both higher. There’s a desperation in the way you cling to each other, as if the passion is the only thing anchoring you both in a world that threatens to tear everything apart.
“Cregan,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as you reach that peak together, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. He groans your name, his voice rough and breathless as he collapses against you, burying his face in your neck, holding you as if he’ll never let go.
For a long while, neither of you speaks, content to simply breathe together, hearts pounding in unison. The room is warm, the glow of the fire casting soft light over your tangled limbs. Cregan’s hand strokes your hair absently, his fingers combing through the silver strands as you lay nestled against him.
But eventually, the silence gives way to the thoughts that have been haunting you. You shift slightly, turning to look up at him. His eyes are closed, a peaceful expression on his face, but you know he’s awake, lost in his own thoughts.
“Cregan,” you say softly, drawing his attention. His eyes open, meeting yours, and the concern returns as he sees the seriousness in your expression.
“What did you see, love?” he asks, his voice gentle, though the tension in his jaw betrays his worry.
You take a breath, recalling the frenzied images that had flashed before you in the godswood, the voice that had called your name. “It was like a storm in my mind,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I heard my name—felt something pulling at me. And then… I saw flashes of fire, blood, wings beating against a sky that burned. There was steel, a crown, and screams lost in the roar of flames. It was so vivid, so real, but I couldn’t make sense of it. And then it was gone, as quickly as it came.”
Cregan listens, his brow furrowed as he considers your words. “The Old Gods speak in riddles and symbols,” he says quietly. “I’ve heard tales of their whispers, of visions granted to those who stand before the weirwoods. But they’ve never been clear—they show what might be, not what is certain.”
You nod, but the unease still lingers. “It felt like a warning, Cregan. Like something terrible is coming, something we’re not prepared for.”
He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this. The North is with you, I’m with you, and we’ll do everything in our power to protect what we hold dear.”
You close your eyes, letting his words soothe some of the anxiety that gnaws at you. “I know. But there’s so much at stake… and so many unknowns. I can’t shake the feeling that the gods are watching, waiting to see what choices we’ll make.”
“The gods may watch,” Cregan murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your skin, “but it’s our choices that shape the future. Whatever comes, we’ll face it, side by side.”
You find comfort in his certainty, the steady strength he always offers when you need it most. Nestled in his arms, you feel the tension slowly drain from your body, replaced by a sense of peace, however fleeting. For now, the future can wait.
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creation-help · 2 years ago
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🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈PRIDE THEMED OC ASK GAME🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️
Bc I wanted one and didn't find it so. Here
[Send ask aimed at a specific character]
1. What's your oc's gender identity? What's their relationship to their gender?
2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it?
3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?
4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?
5. How did you figure out your oc's identity?
6. How does your oc feel about labels? Theirs, or in general?
7. Is there something that could cause your oc to question their identity? What?
8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?
9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?
10. Does your oc celebrate Pride? How?
11. Is your oc open about their identity? Are they more lowkey or more blunt about it? Why or why not?
12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia)
13. Would your oc be open to a poly relationship? Why or why not?
[Not aimed at a specific character] / [Aimed at creator]
14. Do you have ocs on the aro or ace spectrum?
15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?
16. Did you ever change an oc's identity when they were already established? Why?
17. Do you share identity with any of your ocs? Which ones?
18. Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?
19. Do you have preferences about depicting homo/transphobia in your stories? What, and why? Does it vary by story?
20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?
21. Free ramble card wee
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kujiba · 7 months ago
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¡MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE!
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୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior
A/n: I made this while drunk /jk
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 5
PART 6
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Were you high? Possibly.
Did you feel like you were floating? 50/50
You stared directly at the glowing screen plastered infront of you, with your eyes full of focus.
CHOOSE YOUR ELEMENT: ELECTRO, HYDRO, PYRO, DENDRO, ANEMO, GEO, CRYO
'Ah.. This will be hard' You thought to yourself while nodding and looking away from it. Gazing your eyes back on the screen you either were highly delusional right now or...
You had been gifted the ultimate weapon! A system!
You're not a dumbass you've seen those novels, tv's, Mangas, animes, manwha, all that kind of stuff! So you had some bits and pieces on how to roll with this new kind of power.
Back to the main problem... Which element should you pick? Every element in the game is highly valuable and could be used with many different ways. The question is what would benefit you more in the situation you've been put upon.
Currently you had been locked in a cell by whoever knocked you unconscious, but your suspicion leaned more in the knights of favonius. You shaked your head telling yourself to deal with the problems one by one.
"Damn.. Which do I choose" You clenched your lips together tightly and scratched your chin with your own finger. Being indecisive and having a bit of a problem to choose from the choices given to you by the system.
You knew you had to pull your ultimate move.
"Innie, Minnie, Miny, moe..." You mumbled while your finger hopped it's way to each element on the screen "Catch a tiger by its toe if it hollows let it Go, Innie, Minnie Miny, moe." Your finger slowed down by the second and finally took a halt when the song ended.
You looked at the element carefully too see what the fate has given you!
"DENDRO"
YAHOO!!
Your excitement honestly didn't come from the element you choose but the thought you could have your own powers and vision!!
"Gimme DENDRO!" You declared to the system with a prideful voice, A systematic noise rang through your ears in a unpleasant way, soon after the noise came to a halt, a small glowing jeweled amulet began to descend from the air.
"Holy..!" You stared in awe as the jewel gently dropped to your hands. A familiar glowing green vision with it's outer areas decorated uniquely in a high quality silver material.
Quickly enough the system box appeared in front of you yet again.
"CONGRATULATIONS, LEVEL UP TO UNLOCK MORE SKILLS, POWER, AND ITEMS"
The system then showed a long box filled with words and numbers that you immediately understood from your long gaming experience.
[NAME]
Lvl 1 / 20
Max HP: 929
ATK: 34
DEF: 21
Elemental Mastery: 0
Max stamina: 240
Crit rate: 5%
Crit DMG: 50%
Energy Recharge: 300%
"..."
GODDAMN! Why was your energy Recharge so high?... Actually no- that isn't a bad thing, it'll be good for you to just keep spamming your burst till the enemy drops dead.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a pair of footsteps made their way too where you currently are, you quickly hid the vision behind your back, afraid they might try and take it from you if they ever found out about it.
A familiar blonde and brunette made their way in front of your cell, you gripped your vision tighter remembering clear as day what had happened, your suspicions not even faltering for a second.
"(Name)." Jean called out, she placed her hand on her chest while looking at you calmly. Amber was by her side looking at your every movement, Jean continued "Were not here to hurt you. It's the opposite really" Jean's eyes looked soft and humble...
But that doesn't excuse them for knocking you out so harshly.
You deathly wanted to talk back to her but kept your mouth shut, only biting your lip harder so that nothing would come out and spill something important.
"Please, don't be wary of us.. We're your friends" Okay now she was spouting bs. Sure you've met amber for ONLY a bit but Jean was still technically a stranger to you!
You sighed to yourself "How long are you going to keep me in here?" you asked with a tad bit of impatience, you leaned your head back on the solid wall while narrowing down your eyes at them.
Amber responded to your question "Its..it's for your own good (Name), please trust us. We're keeping you safe" Amber's tone was yet determined but also worried. Jean placed her hand on Amber's shoulder and nodded.
"We'll explain to you everything later" Jean was about to say something till you cut her off "Why not now?" You asked tilting your head to the side.
Jean looked at you then down at the ground "There.. Are still some important things we had to arrange. But even so don't try to escape, this is for your own good (Name)"
"Ha? What do you-- AND... they left" You grumbled seeing them leave you all alone in here again.
"Hey system." You called out to it while playing around with your vision. The system appeared again by your side "What is it?"
A Google translator like voice came out of the box, you had this thought for a while now. "Will something happen to me when I escape this place?" You questioned it.
It took a while but the Ai voice returned "Judging from my information I have gathered. You are currently a 'GOD'."
Ha?
"What!? What do you mean, God!?" You exclaimed in a panicked voice. You? A God?
You were snapped out of your frenzy when you heared it's voice again "There is currently a popular and confirmed tale plus ballad that you are the creator of Teyvat. People began worshipping you after you had abruptly dissapered without any warning, so they prayed and worshipped, hoping to bring you back"
You were even more bewildered but also... Understanding? I guess? I mean you are the player who basically built everything in the game. But isn't also Cai Hauyo (Mihoyo) basically the creator of what had been created? You'll dive deeper into that later.
"So.. They're all after me now?" Your tone had a clear hint of worry. You didn't want to be on the run and just wanted a normal life! The system replied saying "Not quite yet. I belive only the knights of favonius must've known. But Im sure it won't be long till the whole mondstadt or even Teyvat will find out about your presence"
You grimaced at the thought of being hunted down by multiple people, especially if those beloved people that you used to grind hours on end for!
You shaked your head in disapproval "Yet I can't really stay here either can I, it seriously sucks" you stretched your legs out on the cold cement flooring, the exterior of the room you had been trapped in was definitely not suited to live in.
"Why are you eager to escape?" The system sought to find the answer, you gave it a long frown "First of all, I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life! I'll die of boredom before anybody could even reach me" The system responded with only small glitching noises, it seemed like it was trying to process the outcome of your actions.
You took that as a cue to continue your rant "Secondly, I'm not really trusting the Knight's of Favonius yet nor anybody in general here. When you said I'm a supposed 'God' that's already trouble going to bite me in the ass" You breathed heavily to catch your breath, letting that all out of your chest felt pretty good to be honest.
"I know they're up to something"
!?!?
Jean stared down at the stack of papers and files scattered around her desk. She took a deep breath and began to tidy things up around the office, a vivid memory flashed through her mind, a memory that wasn't that long ago.
Amber had gone out to continue her Outrider duties leaving Jean to take care of their business for the time being. Her lips trembled ever so slightly like a leaf being blown by the wind, so she quickly bit her lip with her eyes full of worry and dread.
A god was in a cell. A cell she placed them in. Or.. So she was assuming
Back then, Barbatos and the creator had a small fondness of each other. Tales and Ballads would often say they were friends, even with the gap between their ranks and powers, the creator treated everyone fairly no matter what rank. They adored their creations and thus, the creations adored them back.
If only they hadn't left so soon that Teyvat began to slowly crumble, leaving a nation to fall down, a nation to lock itself away from the rest of the world, a nation having their own Archon sacrifice themselves for their people.
If only...
Jean had her doubts. It wasn't the first time that a supposed 'Creator' stepped up only for them to experience demise and pain for their foolish actions.
The creator didn't have a confirmed face or appearance since they often changed what they look like, the creator did had 'Aura'.. That was only visible to vision holders. But of course, the humankind has evolved and people began to come up with a 'Fake Aura' that was the exact replica of the creator's.
Her feet paced back and forth through the room, deciding on what to do with the supposed 'God' that was locked away in a cell.... Should she eliminate them now? False identity was a crime. And when it comes to the creator, no one is spared nor given mercy.
"...Their too suspicious, Why only now did they appear? They must've been like the others." She whispered to herself, her thoughts running wild about them.
A 50/50.
They were either the actual creator
Or they are a fake.
And Jean's choice began to tilt towards the one most logical.
"Tomorrow. We will arrange a public execution"
!!!
"GAHHH!! AGHHH" You desperately tried to concentrate on your mind to activate your vision powers "What the heck how does this work!?" You gripped the amulet tighter with your left eye twitching violently. Your annoyance only filled more as the messages of the system flooded in your face.
"Try concentrating more calmly. What are you doing? Taking a shit?" The system taunted you while also sending some emojis.
"I'm trying okay!? How do you..." You trailed your words off, having a random flashback of when you still were at earth for some reason.
"Hey how are you always so calm?" You asked your friend filled with curiosity, they looked up at your eyes. Seeing your curiosity they hummed "Well I mostly think about my happy memories and things that I like. It's like day dreaming you know?" They answered your thoughts calmly.
"What?? You sound like one of those cliché characters in shows lol."
You blankly stared at the wall after the flashback had ended. Your head turned to the system "That was your doing ain't it?" You deadpanned seeing that the system had completely ignored you and instead sent whistling emojis.
You groaned finally giving in since you had no other ideas anyway. "Agh... Fine, worth a shot" You grumbled giving in to the cliché idea.
You relaxed down your body as your shoulders began to lower along with your guard, you cleared your head, thinking nothing but a blank space for some moments. When you felt ready you had began to imagine all the joyful things that you deeply favored for the past years. All of that gathered into one moment inside your brain.
The vision glowed brightly in your hands, it's viridescent color taking up the whole dimly lit room, even the system kept quiet with the messages so that you could concentrate better on finally unlocking some skills.
And just that, in a short while the vision began to lose its light.
Fluttering your eyes open you took a look around your body to see any changes, to your dissapointment there wasn't any difference. "Did it work?" You wanted to know if you were finally able to throw plants or something.
Suddenly, you slightly jumped seeing confetti pop out of nowhere. The systems screen had massive words placed for you to see.
"CONGRATULATIONS ON UNLOCKING YOUR VISION !!
Reward:
+50,000 Mora
+Cake For The Player
+Personal Companion"
'Personal Companion?'
You were curious to see what it was but for now, you had to focus on breaking out of this hell hole. "System! So like uh, what can I do for now?" You rubbed the back of your head still pretty much a newbie to all this powers stuff.
"Throw out your companion. Call out it's name, 'Taube' and break the damn wall to escape"
"Taube?..." You mumbled it's name unsure at first but your doubts had quickly vanished as your eyes landed on a... Dove?
The Dove (Taube) was pure as a snow, it's wings flapping in the air gently with the inner layer of its feathers being a stunning (Color). Other than that, it looked like a pretty beautiful dove soaring in the sky.
"Wait so, what can it do?" You tilted your head at it questionably. "Make Taube attack the wall so you can see" The system answered your calling, you silently nodded your head at the systems words.
If the Dove was basically part of your power, then it could basically read through your mind! then.... 'Taube, I choose you!!'
Like a smooth cut of a knife, Taube had sliced through the wall with their wing, leading to the fresh and flourishing outside.
You were lying if you didn't say you were impressed and amazed by how easily Taube destroyed the wall. A wide smile appeared on your face as you didn't waste a single moment and ran out to the outside and away from that wretched room.
The air was clean and felt good as you inhaled as much as you can, the sweet scent of dandelions being all over the land was just a touch of freedom. The wind blew over your clothes and hair, wrinkling and messing it all up slightly.
"Man..." You muttered while straightening and fixing yourself up to look a slight bit more presentable. You looked around seeing Taube flying over to your vision, confusion hitted you but shock struck you harder for some quick seconds.
Your eyes widened, watching how Taubes body began to get absorbed by the vision, you panicked alot thinking your powerful animal companion is going to dissperse and never appear again but you quickly remembered that Taube is originally made from your vision anyway.
So you could summon them anytime! :D
A sigh of relief escaped through your lips, your eyes lingered on the body of Taube one last time, in impulse you softly stroked it's head before it faded away from your line of view.
Brushing those thoughts aside, you took a look around the vast land of Mondstadt. You weren't used to seeing how clean and green it was compared to earth where everything is in the brink of collapsing.
BUT! that wasnt your problem right now.
You didn't think twice to bolt your ass out of there and find a new hiding place, A cave? A abandoned house? Anything is fine! cause your gut kept telling you something bad will happen if you stay too long in there!
Wow. Who knew that you would be escaping from there when just a few chapters ago you were fangirling about living in mondstat?
Anyways...
'FREEDOM!!'
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A/n: Short but active hehe
This is what the Dove kinda looks like btw, you could leave it to your imagination v
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538 notes · View notes
boopshoops · 23 days ago
Text
TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV
Aurelia Sidheline - Tales of Scars
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Name: Aurelia Sidheline
Nicknames: Aura, Triggerfish, House cat, Sidhe
Gender: She doesn't know or care <3
Pronouns: She/her (But any gendered language is fine. ex: ms. mx. or mr are all good!)
Sexuality: Pan-Greysexual
Birthday: February 10 (Aquarius)
Age: 19 in canon TWST age, 21 in TCOAV AU
Height: 5'4 or 162cm
Voice Claim(s): Emilia Clarke
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Twisted from: Captain Amelia of Treasure Planet
Unique Magic: She hasn't found hers yet.
Grade: Junior
Class: 3-D
Hobbies: Sailing, Spelldrive, acrobatics, flying(broom), swimming, reading, studying, sparring.
Likes: Smoked salmon, astrology, astronomy, summer, sunbeams, the ocean, strategy games, dogs.
Dislikes: Any soup, inability to read a room, misplaced immaturity, snap judgements, snow, the unrelenting pressure to conform to the shackles and rules of a inherently flawed system in order to succeed in the eyes of others but allows no room for those who are unable to 'get in line' 👁️👄👁️, sand or glitter✨
Fears: Blood, not meeting expectations, being unable to make a difference in her or others lives.
Summary: Descendant of an esteemed noble family of diurnal fae. She intends to dedicate her whole being and life to regaining her family's pride after being unfairly dishonored due to her beastman blood. Nevertheless, she welcomes these trials as a highly adventurous, passionate, and energetic soul.
Her strength in the face of adversity is something she takes a high amount of pride in, even as it is her greatest source of frustration. She had to work harder than most to get to where she is now due to the lowered positioning of her family, but nonetheless, after an ungodly amount of work for someone her age, she's getting there... no, not got. Getting. It's still happening, and it's exhausting. Her greatest strength is also her greatest weakness: after all, one who is known to show strength in adversity will eventually meet too big of an obstacle.
While she struggles to get a handle on her diurnal side, even being delayed in the development of her unique magic, she still has managed to become the captain of RSA's spelldrive team and amass a large amount of respect from the student body. Her admission into RSA cemented a change in allowing any and all genders to apply to the academy (another thing it did before NRC in my au, har har), to the point where she has become a bit of a celebrity on the island. She actively encourages any crowd questioning her admission as well as their own to "get loud and mad and unapologetic" about how the system was allowed to stay so closed off for as long as it did, because "this is what will inspire change in the world, not changing yourself."
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CHARACTER PLAYLIST
Author's Notes: meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow
meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow
meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow <3
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Tags!
@lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3 @skriblee-ksk
@techno-danger @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @scint1llat3
@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @kathxrat-01 @prince-kallisto @twsted-canvas
@twstinginthewind @tixdixl @sillyslipperybananapeel @jadelover69 @inotonline
228 notes · View notes
luvashli · 11 days ago
Text
THE BET
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Synopsis -> Heeseung, the campus heartthrob known for his charm and devil-may-care attitude, makes a bet with his friends: he’ll win you over in just one week. However, as he spends more time with you, his cocky facade starts to crack. What starts as a game becomes a test of emotions neither of you expected.
PAIRING: nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE: oneshot, College au, romance, angst, slowburn, drama
STARTED: 1/21/2025
STATUS: complete
WC: 4.2 K
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The whispers about Heeseung started the first day you set foot on campus. “The guy’s a legend,” someone had said during freshman orientation. “He can charm anyone.”
You hadn’t paid much attention then. Sure, you’d seen him around—leaning against his car in the parking lot, laughing with friends as if the world was his playground. He was tall, undeniably handsome, with the kind of effortless confidence that made people gravitate toward him. But you didn’t like people like him. People who lived their lives on autopilot, coasting on good looks and charm.
You prided yourself on being different. Confident, independent, and no-nonsense, you had no time for boys who thought they could play games with your heart. Your focus was on your studies, your goals, and your small circle of friends who valued authenticity over popularity.
But everything changed on a rainy Wednesday afternoon in the campus library.
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“Let’s make it interesting,” Jay said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.
Heeseung rolled his eyes, already tired of his friend’s antics. They were hanging out in one of the campus lounges, killing time between classes. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo—all of them notorious for their friendly but reckless behavior—were egging him on as usual.
“You’ve won over every girl on campus,” Jake added. “Except for her.”
Heeseung frowned, glancing across the room where you sat, headphones on, flipping through a thick textbook. You looked focused, completely unaware of the world around you.
“Y/N?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow.
“She’s untouchable,” Sunghoon said with a shrug. “I heard she turned down three guys last semester, all of them way more charming than you.”
Heeseung smirked, leaning back. “Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a bet,” Jay said, his grin widening. “Seven days. You get her to fall for you, and dinner’s on us for a month.”
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on you. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you intrigued him. You were different from the girls who usually threw themselves at him. Confident, uninterested, completely in your own world.
“Fine,” Heeseung said, grinning. “Seven days. Watch and learn.”
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Day One
The rain had started to pour outside, the steady rhythm tapping against the library windows. You were lost in your reading, trying to make sense of a particularly dense paragraph in your sociology textbook, when a shadow fell across your desk.
“Mind if I sit here?”
You looked up, and there he was—Lee Heeseung, in all his cocky glory.
“Yes, I mind,” you said curtly, turning back to your book.
He didn’t leave. Instead, he pulled out the chair across from you and sat down, a lazy smile on his face.
“Y/N, right?”
You narrowed your eyes. “How do you know my name?”
He shrugged, leaning forward slightly. “I have my ways.”
You rolled your eyes, already annoyed. “Look, I’m busy. Whatever game you’re playing, go play it somewhere else.”
But Heeseung didn’t budge. Instead, he spent the next hour pretending to study, stealing glances at you and making small comments that made you want to scream.
When you finally packed up your things and left, he followed you outside.
“Hey, wait,” he called out.
“What now?” you snapped, turning around.
Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his usual confidence faltering. “Let me walk you home. It’s raining.”
You stared at him, trying to figure out his angle. But in the end, you let him.
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Day Two
The sun had barely risen, casting a warm, golden glow over campus as you settled into your favorite corner of the coffee shop. It was your sacred morning ritual—black coffee, a half-eaten muffin, and your notebook open to a page of neat, organized notes. The world outside could be chaos, but here, with the hum of coffee machines and quiet chatter, you had control.
Heeseung, however, seemed hellbent on disrupting that control.
You didn’t even notice him at first, too engrossed in highlighting an important section of your notes. It wasn’t until you caught the faint whiff of cologne—something subtle but maddeningly alluring—that you glanced up.
“Morning,” he said, already sliding into the seat across from you as if he belonged there.
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you make a habit of invading people’s mornings uninvited?”
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Only when they look like they need company.“
“I don’t,” you replied flatly, going back to your notes.
He didn’t move. Instead, he leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand as he studied you. “You know, you’re kind of infamous around here.”
You paused, raising an eyebrow. “Infamous?”
“For being the girl who doesn’t fall for anyone,” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of genuine curiosity. “It’s impressive.”
You rolled your eyes. “Let me guess. That’s your opening line for every girl you’re trying to charm?”
“Not every girl,” he said with a smirk. “Just the ones who don’t seem to like me.”
Despite yourself, you felt the corner of your mouth twitch upward. You quickly masked it with a sip of coffee, trying to remind yourself that Heeseung was nothing but trouble.
“What do you want, Heeseung?” you asked finally, your tone sharp.
“To get to know you,” he said, his voice softening.
You weren’t sure if it was the sincerity in his tone or the way his eyes seemed to hold yours for a moment too long, but something about his words caught you off guard. You shook your head, determined not to let him get under your skin.
“Not interested,” you said, closing your notebook and standing up.
Heeseung watched as you gathered your things, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. Just as you were about to walk away, he called out:
“See you around, Y/N.”
You didn’t turn back, but his words echoed in your mind long after you left the coffee shop.
Later that day, you found yourself replaying the encounter in your head, annoyed that he had managed to occupy even a fraction of your thoughts. Heeseung was just another cocky guy who thought he could charm his way into anything. You’d seen it a thousand times before.
So why did the memory of his stupid grin make your chest tighten?
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On the other side of campus, Heeseung sat with his friends, half-listening to their conversation while his mind wandered back to you.
“She’s different,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Jay raised an eyebrow. “You’ve only talked to her twice.”
“Yeah, but…” Heeseung trailed off, unable to find the right words. You were a challenge, sure, but it was more than that. The fire in your eyes, the way you held yourself like you didn’t need anyone—that was what fascinated him.
“Just don’t screw it up,” Jake said with a grin. “You’ve got five days left, and she’s not going to make it easy.”
Heeseung smirked, but inside, he felt the first pang of doubt. This wasn’t just a game anymore, and he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.
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Day Three
You told yourself you were overthinking things. Heeseung was just another guy trying to get your attention, and if you ignored him long enough, he'd eventually get bored and move on. But when you walked into the campus library that afternoon, the last thing you expected was to find him there—leaning against a bookshelf in the fiction section, skimming through a book like he belonged there.
You froze for a moment, cursing your luck. He glanced up almost immediately, his face lighting up when he saw you.
“Well, look who it is,” he said, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. “Didn’t take you for a library kind of person.”
You rolled your eyes, clutching your notebook tighter against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise.
“Do you just… follow me around campus now?” you asked, your tone sharp.
Heeseung laughed, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, I have other hobbies besides annoying you.”
You stepped closer, trying to find the book you came for. Heeseung didn’t move, his presence radiating far too much confidence for someone standing in your way.
“Do you mind?” you asked pointedly, gesturing toward the shelf behind him.
Heeseung glanced over his shoulder, then back at you. “What are you looking for?”
“None of your business,” you snapped.
“Fair enough,” he said, stepping aside with an exaggerated bow. “Go ahead.”
You ignored him and quickly grabbed the book you needed, but his gaze lingered on you as you tried to focus.
“You know,” he said after a moment, “you’re kind of fascinating.”
You sighed, turning to face him. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Nope,” he said, his grin widening. “See you around, Y/N.”
As he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of irritation and intrigue. Heeseung was persistent, you’d give him that. But there was something about the way he looked at you—like he actually wanted to figure you out—that made your defenses waver, if only for a moment.
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Day Four
It was late in the evening, and the campus was unusually quiet. You were walking back to your dorm, lost in thought, when you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, already annoyed, and sure enough, there he was.
“Are you seriously stalking me now?” you asked, stopping in your tracks.
Heeseung raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I was heading this way anyway.”
You narrowed your eyes but kept walking. He fell into step beside you, hands in his pockets, his usual cocky demeanor oddly subdued.
The two of you walked in silence for a while, the quiet night settling between you like a fragile truce.
“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer than you expected.
“I don’t hate you,” you said, glancing at him. “I just don’t trust you.”
Heeseung nodded, as if he’d been expecting that answer. “Fair enough.”
You didn’t know why, but his lack of a comeback caught you off guard. For once, he wasn’t trying to charm you or get under your skin—he was just… there.
As you reached your dorm, he stopped and turned to you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Goodnight.”
And for the first time, you realized you weren’t entirely dreading seeing him again.
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Day Five
By now, you’d started noticing Heeseung everywhere. In the coffee shop, at the library, even in passing conversations with your friends. It was like he’d found a way to exist on the edges of your world without completely intruding.
That evening, you were sitting on a bench outside the student center, flipping through your notes, when Heeseung appeared again. This time, he wasn’t smirking or teasing—he looked almost… nervous.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the space beside you.
You considered saying no but sighed instead, scooting over to make room.
He sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. For a moment, neither of you said anything.
“I know I can be annoying,” he said finally, his voice low. “But I’m not a bad guy, Y/N.”
You glanced at him, surprised by his sudden honesty. “Then why act like one?”
Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s easier that way. People don’t expect much from you if they think you’re just messing around.”
You studied him for a moment, trying to reconcile the cocky persona he usually wore with the vulnerability he was showing now.
“Maybe you should stop pretending,” you said softly.
He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to figure out if you really meant it.
“I’m starting to think you’re right,” he said.
And in that moment, you felt the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crack, just a little.
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It was the sixth day when everything fell apart.
You were walking across campus when you overheard them—Heeseung and his friends, laughing about the bet.
“Did you really think she’d fall for it?” Jay said, grinning. “Man, you’re good.”
Your blood ran cold. You turned the corner, and there they were, laughing as if it was all just a game.
“Heeseung,” you said, your voice icy.
He turned around, his smile fading when he saw your expression.
“Y/N, wait—”
“Don’t,” you snapped. “Don’t you dare try to explain. I should’ve known this was all a joke to you.”
“It wasn’t—”
“Save it,” you said, your voice breaking. “I don’t want to hear it.”
And with that, you walked away, leaving him standing there, his heart sinking.
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The knock on your door came just as you were about to turn in for the night. You frowned, glancing at the clock—it was nearing midnight. Pulling on a hoodie over your tank top, you padded to the door, already bracing yourself for some random excuse from your roommate or a delivery mix-up.
But when you opened the door, there he was.
Heeseung stood on the other side, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. His hair was a mess, as though he’d run his hands through it a hundred times, and his eyes… They weren’t cocky or playful like usual. They were wide, hesitant, and uncharacteristically vulnerable.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“I needed to talk to you,” he said, his voice quiet—almost pleading.
You hesitated, debating whether or not to shut the door in his face. But something about the way he looked, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, made you pause.
“Fine,” you said reluctantly, stepping aside.
He walked in, but his usual confidence was absent. He didn’t try to sprawl on your couch or crack a joke. Instead, he hovered near the door, hands fidgeting at his sides.
“Y/N…” Heeseung started, then stopped, as if the words were too heavy to say.
You crossed your arms, leaning against the counter. “If you’re just here to waste my time—”
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, cutting you off. His voice cracked, and it made you freeze.
“What?” you said, your tone softer now, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his gaze fixed on the floor. “For the bet. For being an idiot. For… for hurting you.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “You’re really going to apologize now? After everything?”
“I know,” he said quickly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “I know it’s late, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I… I couldn’t just leave it like this. You have no idea how much I hate myself for what I did.”
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened at the sight of him like this—so undone, so unlike the Heeseung you thought you knew.
“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” he continued, his voice trembling. “At first, it was just… stupid. I wanted to win, I wanted to prove I could get to you. But then…” He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “Then I got to know you. And suddenly, it wasn’t about the bet anymore. It was about you. And I ruined it.”
You stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
Heeseung’s voice dropped, almost a whisper now. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear, Y/N. Just… tell me what to do.”
The vulnerability in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung, the guy who seemed untouchable, was standing in your apartment, completely unguarded and entirely at your mercy.
“Why should I believe you?” you asked, your voice trembling despite yourself. “How do I know this isn’t just another game?”
His eyes softened, and he took a step closer, hesitating as though afraid you’d push him away. “Because you’re the only person who’s ever made me want to be better,” he said, his voice barely audible. “And I can’t lose that.”
You stared at him, your emotions warring inside you. The anger, the hurt, the lingering attraction—it all came to a head as he closed the distance between you, his hand hovering just inches from yours.
“I don’t want your words, Heeseung,” you said, your voice breaking. “I want proof.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he’d retreat. But then he stepped even closer, his breath mingling with yours as he looked at you with an intensity that made your knees weak.
“Then let me show you,” he murmured, his voice trembling.
And before you could think, before you could push him away or pull him closer, he kissed you.
It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was desperate, raw, filled with all the tension and unspoken emotions that had been building between you. His hands cupped your face, almost reverently, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.
You wanted to stay angry. You wanted to shove him back and tell him he didn’t deserve you. But the way he kissed you, like you were the only thing anchoring him to this world, made it impossible to pull away.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was shaky.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I mean it, Y/N. I’ll prove it to you every single day if I have to.”
For the first time, you saw the real Heeseung—not the cocky playboy or the overconfident charmer, but the broken boy underneath, desperate for a second chance.
And for the first time, you thought maybe—just maybe—you’d give him one.
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It had been a few weeks since Heeseung's late-night apology at your apartment, and things had undeniably shifted between you both. What started as a tangled mess of hurt and confusion had slowly transformed into something new, something unexpected—something real.
You had no idea what would happen next. You still had questions. You still had doubts. But when Heeseung had come to you, laid bare his vulnerabilities, and shown you his true self, it was hard to ignore the connection you’d always had. Something had cracked inside you, and though the wound was still fresh, it had given way to the possibility of something more.
And so, you moved forward, cautiously at first, but with each passing day, your trust in him grew. The dynamic between you had changed completely, but it wasn’t what you expected. Heeseung wasn’t just the cocky, confident guy he once was—he was more patient now, more introspective. It was clear that he was trying to prove that he meant what he said, and you found yourself falling for him again, in a way that was different. It wasn’t the infatuation of the bet or the thrill of the game; this time, it was something deeper, quieter—something more meaningful.
He still had his playful side, of course. But when you looked at him now, you saw the layers that were once hidden beneath the surface. You saw the side of him that had always been there—the side that cared, the side that loved fiercely, and the side that wanted to make things right.
You didn’t have to say the words out loud to feel it—you could see it in the way he looked at you. Heeseung’s eyes no longer held that playful arrogance; instead, they were filled with warmth, tenderness, and sometimes, a hint of uncertainty. It was a vulnerability that you never would’ve expected from him, but it made him more real, more human.
One evening, as the two of you sat together in the common room, sharing a quiet dinner, you caught him looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter.
“You’re staring,” you said, raising an eyebrow.
Heeseung smirked, but it was different now. “I can’t help it,” he said, leaning in slightly. “You’re kind of… amazing.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. It had taken time, but it was clear now—there was no more pretense. Heeseung had let his guard down, and so had you.
But as much as you had grown closer, there were still moments where you felt the weight of the past. You still remembered the bet, the hurt, the betrayal. But Heeseung didn’t shy away from these moments; he acknowledged them, apologized again when needed, and showed you, through his actions, that he was working to be better.
It wasn’t long before the others started to notice the subtle shift in your relationship with Heeseung. They weren’t blind—how could they be? The playful banter between you two had transformed into something much quieter, something that wasn’t as easily hidden.
At first, they were confused, unsure of what had changed. They had seen you and Heeseung bicker before, but this time, the air between you both was different. It was as if something unspoken was lingering, a secret that neither of you could hide.
One afternoon, you were all gathered in the living room of their shared apartment, hanging out after classes. The guys were being their usual selves—loud, playful, and full of energy. You were sitting next to Heeseung, your knees brushing together as you chatted with Sunghoon about an upcoming project.
But Heeseung’s hand was resting on your thigh, just enough to let you know he was there, a silent reassurance. It was subtle, but it wasn’t unnoticed by the others.
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing between you two. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on with you two?”
You tensed slightly, but Heeseung leaned back in his chair, his expression relaxed. “What do you mean?” he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips. But you could see the way his eyes flicked to you, a little too aware of how the conversation was turning.
“You two are… different,” Sunghoon said slowly, his gaze lingering on the hand that Heeseung had placed on your thigh. “You’re not acting like you used to. So, what’s up?”
Jake, who had been quiet up until now, smirked. “I’m just waiting for one of you to break the silence and admit it already.”
Heeseung shifted uncomfortably, but instead of retreating, he met your eyes, as if silently asking if he should say anything. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.
“I think it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” you said, your tone casual but with a hint of amusement. “We’ve been through a lot, and we’re…”
“Together,” Heeseung finished, his voice steady, but there was a trace of something—nervousness, maybe?—lingering in his tone.
The room fell into a stunned silence. You could practically hear the gears turning in their heads as they processed your words.
Jay, who had been leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “So, wait, you’re telling us that you two are, like… official?”
You nodded, but before you could say anything else, Sunoo broke in, his grin wide. “Well, it’s about damn time!”
The others erupted into laughter, but you could tell that there was a mixture of surprise and understanding in their eyes. They hadn’t expected this, not after the way things had started, but they could see the change in both of you.
“You two are cute,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head with a smile. “I guess you’re not the cocky, arrogant guy you once were, huh, Heeseung?”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, but there was a genuine smile on his face. “Nope,” he said with a mock sigh. “Guess I’m whipped now.”
You snorted, reaching over to nudge him. “Shut up,” you muttered, but there was warmth in your voice.
“Well, whatever happens, I’m glad you two are happy,” Jake said, giving you both a thumbs-up. “But seriously, Heeseung, don’t mess it up this time.”
Heeseung raised his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t, I won’t. I’ve learned my lesson.”
You chuckled softly, your gaze softening as you looked at Heeseung. There was no doubt now—things had changed, and for the better. The trust between you had grown, and so had your feelings. It wasn’t going to be perfect, and there would still be bumps along the way, but you both knew you were in this together.
And as the conversation continued, you realized just how much you had both changed since that first bet, that first moment of rivalry. You had gone from strangers to something much deeper—partners, lovers, friends—no longer bound by the past but by what you had created together.
And for the first time in a long while, you were certain that whatever came next, you were ready to face it with Heeseung by your side.
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