Tristin Dugray relationship and intimacy hcs
wc: 1.1k
pairing: tristin x afab reader
genre: smut smut feelings smut
warnings: dumbfucking, tristin is a cocky bastard and a slut and a whore (all affectionate), pussydrunk tristin, brief mentions of exhibitionism and tristin having bull energy, hickeys, cute jealousy, tristin is an attention whore (affectionate), other girls are jelly of you bc tristin likes you that fuckin much, tristin has a vaguely bad homelife, use of mary as a pet name
song recs: mary - alex g, break my heart - spectacular cast
a/n: this boy.... has consumed way more of my brain space than I anticipated??? he grabbed me by the fucking throat lol
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280
As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+
That being said HOLY SHIT LETS GET INTO IT
Tristin Dugray is one horny motherfucker
Like really seriously horny
Stage 5 thirsty for you specifically
Like I said in that one drabble he’s a cocky attention whore until a certain point
Then he just gets completely stupid
His goal is to fuck both of you absolutely dumb, and he’s really good at it
Even when he has you both completely stupid, he’s still gonna keep going
Like until he collapses on top of you
But before he gets so pussydrunk that all he can do is pant and grunt and whine in your ear
He absolutely talks you through it
God this boy just can’t shut up can he
So he’ll guide you and tease you and coax more and more out of you
He’ll call you mary and babble out praise
And he’ll soak up every expression you make
Every noise you let out
GOD just looking at you??? It takes so much energy not to cum on the spot
Tristin already knows that no one can fuck you like he can
But he’s even more willing to prove it for you
Not gonna lie, he has major bull energy
Tristin can sweep you off your feet and charm you away from anyone else vying for your attention
Then he can push his fat cock snugly inside you and make you squirt and shower you with attention
He ruins you for anyone else by giving you ultimate princess treatment
God the duality of this man
Speaking of his fat cock, he’s hung like a goddamn horse
Like he’s already so fucking perfect
He’s hot as fuck, loaded, actually has a personality, he likes you that much, he’s loyal
And he’s packing??????
It’s almost unfair
But yeah Tristin is the whole package (pun intended)
He can do whatever he wants. Literally anything.
Because he’s this hot, you’re going to have to be prepared for a lot of jealousy from the plethora of girls who have a crush on him
Which is almost all of them
Girls get so fucking pissed when you have bruises and hickeys and can’t walk
Like seriously
It’s impossible to be friends with any girls that know Tristin because boy keeps you marked up
And they don’t like that
He’s so tantalizingly close to them but agonizingly out of reach
They hate it even more when he smells like you and has your love bites all over him
He proudly shows that shit off
Along with all the scratches you leave on his back
And an occasional pair of panties left in his pocket
Nothing makes him happier than having your scent and marks and presence all over him
Once he finds out about bra strap bracelets????? You make him one and he will never take that shit off
Gets pouty when his hickeys fade and asks you for more
He pulls you into his lap and bites your ear playfully
“Well Mary, your friends need to know that I’m taken, don’t they?”
“It’s not my friends that I’m worried about…”
He pauses kissing your neck to look up at you with a cocky gaze just full of victory as your words sink in
“You are jealous…”
GOD HE LOVES WHEN YOU GET JEALOUS AND POSSESSIVE OVER HIM
ACTUALLY MAKES HIM MOTHERFUCKING FERAL
It has this energy
Oh my god oh my god and watching his hair grow back out from his military school buzzcut???
When it’s finally long enough to tug and flop over and tickle your face and neck while he fucks you?????
And brush all softly against your thighs when he goes down on you???????
Best era tbh
And Tristin really does love going down on you a lot
He has some almost pleasure dom tendencies???
Someone hose this boy down
Just fucking neuter him at this point
Seriously once he gets a taste of you, it’s game over
Tristin is easily the biggest fucking slut you’ve ever met
But he’s only a slut for you
Literally
All he wants is you
So when he has you, he’s going all out
All the way
Hitting all the spots (literally and figuratively)
Don’t let him find out about your g spot
He already abuses your clit enough as it is
Just cause he loves the face you make when you orgasm
He gets kind of obsessed with making you cum
Seriously he will sneak off with you for quickies and hand stuff in some really risky places
He doesn’t even care about getting caught at this point
He just loves seeing how nervous and turned on it makes you
And he loves having something to tease you about
Seriously this man will whore himself out to you at a moments notice
He’s so fucking touch starved that it’s really nice to have something long term and serious with you like this
It’s all he’s wanted for a really long time
Even with Summer, he tried everything he could to make it work
I think it’s safe to assume he has a similar homelife to Paris
Specifically from the quote regarding Paris’s baggage when Tristin said “yeah, [I have] a matching set”
You’re not being too subtle there babe
So with all the inconsistencies and instability he’s dealt with through the years
You really are a breath of fresh air
Tristin wants to be committed
He wants someone that he can give all of himself to
When he met you there was a terrifying moment where he felt his priorities shift
He knew that if his options were a safe choice or you, he’d choose you hands down
But now he gets both
He gets that consistency and devotion and commitment
And he gets it with you
So you better believe he is not fucking this up
He is going to put everything he has into this
Because he knows how you deserve to be treated
And he knows he can’t lose you
Which means he just has to be the kind of man that you deserve
One of the most beautiful parts of dating Tristin is getting to grow together and watch him really blossom alongside you
You are the catalyst
You are what made him into who he is today
And he wouldn’t want this with anyone else but you
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Am I writing this largely because I enjoy the idea of Sansa and Stannis constantly hissing at each other like two belligerent cats? Listen,
x
By the first week of the siege, Sansa was forced to admit — if only to herself —that warfare was far less exciting than she'd imagined. When she had been told of Robb's victories in the Riverlands she had always pictured him triumphant upon a fearsome destrier, sword held high as he cut down his enemies before him. Then he'd been killed and she had lived through the Battle of the Blackwater, waiting either rescue or slaughter by the very man who was now her ally. That had not been exciting, precisely, but it had not been this dull and plodding affair. A far cry from the valiant knights and noble battles she'd read when she was a girl; but she'd had precious little turn out the way she'd been taught.
She slept at the camps near the front lines, in the same soldier's tent she and Brienne and Podrick had shared for the past four months. Stannis had made all sorts of ridiculous protests about "ladies" and "danger" until she'd had to remind him, once again, that her eight thousand men gave her the freedom to dictate her own movements.
"All very well while we're waiting out here, my lady," he'd growled in response, after his requisite glare at her flawless logic, "But when battle joins, you'll be nothing more than a nuisance."
"In which case, I'll be quickly killed and you can have Rickon installed as Lord of Winterfell instead," she'd replied, "as you were hoping to do in the first place." That had shut him up, at least, and he'd gone back to scowling at Winterfell's walls.
Every night when she returned to the camp, she stopped at Stannis's tent and joined the conference with their commanders and lieutenants. It was then that she learned about the waging of war: how men were best deployed, how training was maintained even in the midst of a siege, how sickness was kept at bay so that it did not kill more soldiers than did the battles. Stannis disliked her presence there, too, but she was rapidly coming to understand that he would only be truly happy when she was out of his life for good. Possibly not even then. He did not seem a man much given to smiles.
The men did not share Stannis's view, at least; as she walked through the lines each morning and night they stood to bow to her, and press the back of her hand to their foreheads as she remembered they had done to Mother so long ago.
"They say that the old gods have brought you back to us," Lord Reed told her one day, as he accompanied her on her daily walk to the winter town. "That they were angered when the Starks were driven from Winterfell, and that they're drawing you all back here one by one. They say that Robb Stark may come back from the dead, such is the rage of the gods, and avenge all who wronged your house."
Joffrey had been diligent in recounting every detail of what had happened to Robb's body after Roose Bolton had killed him. She repressed a shudder to think of it and held more tightly to Reed's arm, grateful for the warmth of him at her side. "I hope they are not disappointed if all they get is me and Rickon."
Reed chuckled. "They're well-satisfied, my lady," he said. They walked into the winter town just as the sun broke over the mountains. "You're a sight prettier than the Young Wolf ever was, that's certain."
The winter town was where her real work was done each day. It was the custom every winter for the smallfolk of the North to leave their hides holdfasts and journey here, bringing what they could cart or carry. The winter town would eventually house nearly one in three of every soul living in the North, seeking shelter together to endure the cold.
The Boltons had not bothered to do their duty, laying in no provisions and building no new housing. Up until now it had mattered little; even as the winds had begun to blow, few smallfolk had dared to come take shelter under the banners of the flayed man. The town itself had been all but abandoned, until word of the Starks' return had begun to spread throughout the North.
Now the winter town seemed to double in size with each passing day despite the ongoing siege of the Keep. Sansa had her hands full in directing builders, organizing kitchens, allocating what resources they had to feed and shelter everyone. In this she was aided by any number of friends and allies: those servants and household members who had first escaped during Winterfell's seizure by the Ironborn, or who had endured that but had fled the Boltons' brutal takeover; the households of her lords who had come to support the siege; even Lady Umber and her formidable staff lent a hand before she returned to Last Hearth. Her most steadfast assistants were Rickon and Shireen, who at first had joined her out of boredom but were now her little lieutenants, breathlessly updating her on all events of the previous night as she joined them for breakfast each morning. She received aid also from her men in the armies, assigning their builders to fortify the town in much the same way they were fortifying the siege camp.
Her lords approved of this; Stannis, of course, did not.
"You seek another threescore soldiers?" he demanded one evening.
The siege had now dragged on near a month. Bolton's men showed signs of distress, Lord Flint reported with no small satisfaction; they would not last much longer. But this had brought a fresh concern, and Sansa had broached it during their evening conference.
"We need to build up the palisades along the eastern side of the winter town," Sansa insisted, pointing at the map spread out along the table, with the various pieces representing the various companies all arrayed neatly atop. Stannis's wooden flaming hearts were outnumbered by Sansa's wolf heads two to one, though many of hers appeared hastily-carved from whatever spare wood was at hand. She reached for a flaming heart on the far side of the Keep, well away from the siege. "It need only be for—"
"Give me that," Stannis snapped, snatching it back. "Those men are covering the huntsman's gate, should any of Bolton's forces be cowardly enough to attempt escape rather than stand and fight."
"And you anticipate that happening in the next day?" she demanded, resisting the urge to lunge for the piece the way she used to with Robb when he had teasingly stolen her embroidery, holding it just out of reach. "There must be fifty or sixty men out of twelve thousand that can be spared."
"Why are the palisades in need of building up in the first place?" Stannis demanded, as Lord Glover opened and then shut his mouth to reply to her. "This winter town of yours is folly — you cannot grant entry to every farmer and tinker who pleads for shelter."
Sansa gaped at him in outrage, though even as she did so she was heartened to hear the murmur of her lords at such a comment. "That is precisely what is done, and has been for every winter since before Bran the Builder set stones to build Winterfell!" She glared at him. "This is a refuge, Your Grace."
"This is a siege, my lady," he retorted, looming over her. She thought longingly of the beautiful heeled shoes Margaery wore; she needed only a few inches to match Stannis's height, and see what good his looming did him then. "The smallfolk congregate here at their own risk!"
"My people congregate here because they believe I will keep them safe, and I will do so. With or without Your Grace's help!"
"Without, if it pleases my lady!"
Half-ready to club him over the head with the nearest chair, Sansa grabbed the flaming heart out of his hands and waved it in his face. "What are these men supposed to do, if Bolton and his soldiers escape out this way?"
Stannis looked too near a fit of apoplexy to reply, so it was Lord Cerwyn who cleared his throat and answered, "They are charged to report back, my lady, with some following at a safe distance to see where they go."
"It's perfectly obvious where they'll go," Sansa snapped. "Lord Bolton will make for the Dreadfort."
"Of course he will," said Stannis, finding his voice at last, though he did not try for the wolf's-head piece again. "That doesn't mean—"
"I know three dozen local boys who could hide along the route from the huntsman's gate to the eastern road and bring back reports, without clomping about the forests in full armor," Sansa said, slamming the piece down at the winter town. "And they might be able to bring back some food, while they're at it. Unlike your soldiers, they know how to hunt in the Wolfswood without frightening off half the game."
A few days later, she had her men.
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