#having a baking show would be so much fun

[mrsjellymunson]

Oh, THIS THIS THIS

We don’t do it for the adulation (at least, I don’t think many of us do), but it takes a lot of effort to turn a scenario that passes through your brain and convert it into something other people can consume. And if you don’t know whether people have consumed it or not, then really, what’s the point?

Like sure, dancing is fun. But dancing in front of people and then knowing they enjoyed it because of their reaction? SO much better…. Would people make TV shows if nobody watched them? Or bake elaborate things that nobody ate? Probably not. Making things for people to read, but never knowing whether they did or not, is thankless and soul destroying.

AND, apparently it doesn’t matter whether ‘nobody will see my reblog anyway’ - the very fact that you reblogged it means the algorithm will show it to more people. So you are doing something!

[Maybe someone can tell me whether that last bit is true or not]

I am begging y’all to hit reblog on fics you like. Leave a comment if you’re comfortable. Tell the author how you feel about it in the tags, in their inbox, or anything because too many authors are leaving because they don’t feel appreciated.

[chantillyxlacey]

Tomorrow it will be 10 years exactly since dad died

What do you even do with that

[raspberry-gloaming]

All I know about the new descendants movie is osmosis from tumblr and combining that with the media I think of when someone says Alice in Wonderland is making for tbh the movie in my brain is probs very different than what I've heard the new one is like.

And that media is the Royal Ballet's Alice in Wonderland. Its a lovely comic ballet, and my favourite dances are The Mad Hatter's Tea Party (tap! in a ballet! also in this clip played by Steven McRae, who i want to know more about and watch more of his stuff as i have heard good things about from other dancers I know), and the Tart Adage, which is frickin hilarious. (also the way that the King of Hearts just droops around in the background and its like yup. thats Red's dad apparently.)

So uh everyone should watch these clips simply because they're amazing and I love them.

[lavenderspence]

A bunch of cuties in love | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, nicknames (i think that's about it?)

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations. 

Request: Hotch request: BAU!Reader is Jack’s favorite and always spends the day with them when he’s brought along to the office. They have a cute bonding moment that Hotch secretly watches. Cue the “oh god I��m in love with them aren’t I”

A/N: it’s been two months today since I made this blog, and it’s been wild, it’s been fun, and it’s been a little teary. thank you for the love and support! Please enjoy this cute little hotch piece, I had a blast writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I’d love to hear what you think! Also, I miss old Disney😭

masterlist

9:23.

On the days you weren’t working on a case, and the only thing you really needed to catch up on was paperwork, your usual start time was 8:30. Yet almost an hour had gone by and he wasn’t in his office like he usually would be.

With a punctual Unit Chief like Aaron Hotchner, it was a shock, and a little nerve-wracking that he was late. 

You’d lie if you didn’t say you were getting a little worried, taking into account the last and only time he’d been late - Foyet attacking him in his own home, leaving him with long-lasting trauma, scars, and without his family. 

You'd never forget that day, and every day after where he was left to suffer, laying the blame on himself. No matter how many times you said it, how many times Rossi patted him on the back, reminding him it wasn't his fault, you knew a part of him still didn't believe it.

And the part of you that cared about him, maybe a little more than you should, didn't have the heart to watch him do this to himself - the silent guilt, the long empty looks. 

You’ve known him awhile, seen him through many of his ups, and just as many as his downs. You’d seen him laugh in glee and beam with happiness, you’d seen him lose it in anger and anguish and you’d seen him cry in heartbreak. 

So much of your life spent beside him, so many memories linked with him, and your team. And much of it you knew was friendly love - your love for Emily and Spencer, JJ and Morgan, Penelope and Rossi. But the love you felt for him was just a tiny bit different, deeper, not the friendly kind. 

You’d only recently started to understand what you were really feeling for him, as recent as the last few weeks. Still new and a little unexplainable at times, you were learning to balance that, within your friendship.

You didn’t think you wanted to pursue anything, right now. It had been a little over two years since he’d lost Haley, since he’d needed to start navigating his life as a single dad, a widower. 

You could still see the pain in his eyes, fresh as the day it had happened. You knew he was managing, but it was still apparent, that it was hitting them both hard.

And Jack? He was a little ray of sunshine in the otherwise gruesome life all of you led - the same could be said about Henry. But Henry was Reid's favorite, as his godfather, you knew the bond between them was unbreakable. 

But Jack? You were his favorite, and he was yours. 

He was your little buddy, your partner in all things art, cartoons, and Disney shows. He was your little helper during all things baking - you'd babysat once and he'd requested chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies and you'd been more than happy to help him make them.

He was a natural baker and a little taster. 

Your love for the little cutie ran as deep as your feelings for his dad.

At the end of the day though, you were a friend, a shoulder both could use to lean on and rely on. You were comfortable in your role within their little family and weren't looking to make any changes then.

9:28.

You were playing with your watch, already having decided you’d be giving him a call if he didn't arrive by 9:30.

Worry was making your hands sweat, and just as you went to wipe them on your pants, the door to the bullpen opened, and in walked a very frantic Hotch - his tie was a little crooked, shirt a little wrinkled, and Jack - a little backpack on his back, and a curious look paired with a timid smile.

Aaron's eyes searched the bullpen, as did Jack's, the little Hotchner noticing you seconds before his father did. You stood up, watching as the blond pulled away from his dad, and on a little run, made his way towards you. 

“Cutiee.” He called out, using the nickname you called him, to address you too. You leaned down when he was a few steps away, accepting his hug, his little arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Hi, cutie.” You greeted him, a wide smile on your face. Hotch had made his way over to you by then, giving you a barely-there smile, but his eyes shone.

“You're late.” You started, pulling to your full height.

“Yeah, Jessica was called on an emergency at the last minute, and Liah is away on a hiking trip, so here we are.” Liah was Hotch's neighbor, she looked after Jack for a few hours when Hotch couldn't stay with him, or Jess was busy.

He looked at his watch, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little.

“I have a meeting with Strauss…well, right now. Can you please watch him until I get done?” 

“Go, don't make her wait. We'll be okay and we're going to have fun. Right, Jack?” You watched him nod at both you and his dad before Hotch exhaled.

“You're a lifesaver. Be good for Y/N, okay buddy.” Another nod from Jack, and he was on his way to Strauss's office.

‘’Okay Jack, let's see if Aunt Penelope can download a few episodes of ‘The Suite Life’ for us, and then we'll go color and draw for a while. Does that sound good to you?” 

“Very good. Can I also have orange juice?” He asked, taking your hand in his small, soft one, fingers wrapping around your own.

“Let's go see if we have any.” You walked towards the small communal kitchen space, checking the fridge and then you checked the pantry…and, “Bingo. Let's go see the lair.” You led him to Penelope's office.

“Knock, knock, may us mortals enter?” You joked, making your little partner giggle. 

“Us?” Her voice rang from the other side of the door.

“I have sir Hotchner with me. The smaller one.”

“Hey,” Jack said in outrage

“My favorite Hotchner.” You added.

Penelope pulled the door open, beaming at both of you, before she made space for you to enter. 

“Jack, my love, hi,” She raised her hand, letting him give her a high five. Even though she was affectionate, Jack wasn’t as much, especially after Haley. He only hugged a few people now - Jess, his dad, and surprisingly, you. 

It really showed how comfortable he was with you.

“What brings you to my tech cave?” She asked. You raised your brows at him, prompting him to do the talking. 

“Can you, please, download a few episodes of Zack and Cody for us?” His voice rang with its usual child calm and sweetness, fingers intertwined in front of him. 

Penelope's smile softened even more, “Sure thing, sweetie,” Her eyes turned towards you then, “Your tablet?”

“Yes, please.” You knew it was a work tablet, but no one had to know.

“Any requests?” She asked the little guy.

“You pick.”

“Okay-dokey. Should have it in about 10 minutes, my loves.”

“Thank you, Aunt Penelope.”

“Thanks Pen.” You gave her air kisses before you led Jack out and towards his father's office. 

His day had started rocky, hell, the whole night had gone that way. 

Jack had woken up from a nightmare - twice at that. After the second time, he’d asked Aaron to sleep in his bed, too scared and sad to stay in his room.

He’d snoozed his alarm, just once, and had a hard time waking his son up too. He’d had 20 minutes to get himself ready, but Jessica had called 10 minutes before she was supposed to arrive - apologizing because she’d been called on an emergency at work. 

Aaron had to rearrange his whole morning then, already aware he’d be late for work. He’d had to get Jack and his backpack ready and cook him breakfast. All of that, and be in the office before his 9:30 meeting with Strauss. 

Breakfast and preparing Jack for a day at the BAU, he’d done successfully. Arriving on time had been a little tricky, with barely 2 minutes to spare. 

But when he’d walked into the bullpen, Jack spotting you just seconds before he did, and he’d watched your smile grow, he’d known all would be okay. 

Watching you with Jack always brought a warm feeling within him, like he was watching something sacred. You were always patient and kind, always interested in listening to him talk, even though he was a quiet kid, who appreciated quality time more. 

You gave him that too, and a lot of it - you watched cartoons and shows with him. Colored and drew, baked cookies, and played with him whenever he wanted. Any time spent with Jack was about what he wanted, what he liked doing, and above all, making him comfortable. 

Even if it meant cleaning flour off your kitchen floor and whatever had gotten in the drawers too. 

He appreciated, even loved the bond you had with his son, every smile, every hug, and every minute you spend with him. He loved hearing about you from Jack - what you’d done together, what you’d told him, the stories, the jokes, the conversations. 

Hearing his son proclaim you as his favorite person in the BAU had made his heart soar. Taking into account all the time you spent with him, it wasn’t really a surprise. He bonded hard, but once he did, he never went back.

He was much like Aaron himself in that regard. His trust had to be earned, as did his friendship, and it required hard work. Jack was much the same. And you’d successfully earned both of theirs with your beautiful and caring personality. 

He exhaled a breath, checking his watch, step fast, and briefcase in hand. 

11:18.

His meeting with Strauss had run longer than he’d anticipated - over an hour and a half. Diplomacy, politics, budgets, and cuts, they’d run through countless things, half of that meeting already fully blacked out from his memory. 

He was tired - every meeting with Strauss left him drained. Worried,  about Jack and his state of mind after last night. All he wanted to do was get to his office and check up on his son. 

Walking into the bullpen for the second time that day, he quickly made his way towards his office, only to stop short at the window. The blinds were open, having forgotten to close them last night, so he had a clear and full view of his office.

You were sat on the couch close to the armrest, Jack cuddled against you, cheek squished against your collarbone, face almost buried in your neck. 

Your work tablet sat propped on the coffee table, and your arm wrapped around his small body, keeping him close. His eyes were almost closed, your thumb running soothingly on his back. 

He watched, mesmerized by the scene. He felt himself soften, all of him. His face, the furrow in his brow, and the tight set of his lips. His whole body, his heart, suddenly at peace. 

For months he'd observed the kindness you showed everyone - the families of victims, heartbroken by the injustice of life. Passersby, people you might never see again. Your team, especially, your work family. Jack, and even Aaron himself. 

And as he watched you with his son, the one person left in this world who truly loved him, no matter his rights or wrongs - he couldn't help but feel himself unravel. 

Every little thought he'd had about you, every feeling he might have somehow suppressed in order to protect himself and his child, they all attacked him, in seconds. 

Because the truth was, you earned his trust, his friendship, and somehow along the way, you'd won his heart as well.

Right at that moment, his heart pounded in need, in adoration, in pure, clear love. Love he hadn't allowed himself to feel since Haley. Love, he'd frankly hadn't felt in years, ever since he’d put his signature down on the dotted line. 

He wanted to get home to see this. He wanted to see you put Jack to bed, and kiss his forehead with a whispered ‘good night’.

He wanted to stroke your cheek tenderly, pull you into a kiss that made you melt, and stroke a fire within you like no one else could. 

He wanted to tell you he loved you - in the car, as he drove you to work. In the kitchen during breakfast and dinner. In his office, a few stolen moments as you worked. And under the sheets, while you made love. 

And even through the fear that gripped him in a vice, of rejection, separation, and even trust - he still wanted to love you, as if he was loving someone for the first time again. 

“Everything okay, Aaron?” David asked, passing on the way to his office. 

Aaron barely spared him a glance, nodding his head a little, “Yeah, it's okay.”

He pushed the door to his office open and walked in, greeted by his new favorite sight, and his two favorite people. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[novelbear]

introvert x extrovert things for your otp 🧸

a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ

extrovert knowing all the cool places to eat/have fun in town and loves showing introvert everything on dates

^ in turn, introvert loves to show extrovert all the best movies, books, or other cute little hobbies (like bracelet making, baking)

introvert listening to extrovert ramble about literally anything with the biggest smile on their face

"why don't we go out for lunch?" "we went out this morning.." "to check the mail??"

extrovert coming home to find introvert all bundled up in blankets on the couch and can't help but attack them with kisses

introvert introducing extrovert into the world of journaling

"how could you keep up with so many groupchats?" "i'm only in three." "only?"

extrovert watching introvert get closer with their friend circle and feeling so proud/happy

extrovert buying the introvert a set of headphones so they can zone out when needed

^ "oh my god no, why are you crying? i thought this would help, i'm sorry." "i love you. so much."

introvert going to an event with extrovert and ending up having more fun than they do

^ "i told you that you'd have a great time." [playfully] "shut up."

extrovert taking on certain responsibilities that introvert might dread more often (like the grocery shopping for example)

"didn't you order fries with that?" "yeah, but it's fine." "i can say something-" "don't you dare."

extrovert secretly reading a book/watching a movie that they know introvert has been obsessed with so that they can engage in a meaningful conversation about it later

[suguru-getos]

-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3

It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.

His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.

Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.

Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.

He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?

“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.

“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.

“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.

“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.

“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.

“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.

The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.

What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?

“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.

Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Sfw & NSFW Dating Nicholas Chavez Headcannons

●Sfw

- He is such a cutie patootie, he's such a good boyfriend, lover, friend anything. he acts very shy whenever he is around new people, but when he's with you, he's completely different and more talkative, and he's such a golden retriever type boyfriend.

- Very affectionate, he loves physical touch and just cuddling and hugging you, whenever he comes from a long day working on set, the first thing he would do Is come home to you with open arms, making you feel safe and loved, giving you alot of hugs and kisses.

- He checks up on you alot of the time, whenever he's far away from home when he's acting for a role in a movie or show, he's quick to ask about how you're doing and give you all the details about his day.

- You're his biggest supporter you always encourage him and cheer him on whenever he's acting for a role, you even help him to stay in character, you two out watch movies together or just find information about his character and have so much inspiration, he loves talking about his favorite actors and tv shows with you and you never get bored of it, you find it adorable how he talks about his idols and how he's inspired he is.

- he's has a lot of nicknames for you, like he's such a loving and caring boyfriend, he likes calling you names making you feel loved and cherished by him, but his favorite nicknames for you are "babe, sweetheart, baby."

-This man is so affectionate he loves posting you on his Instagram and showing the whole world how much you mean to him, photos of you two kissing, laughing, and holding hands together.

-He takes you on a lot of trips. like he takes you around the world just exploring anything that's new. He usually doesn't have time since he has a very busy schedule,but when he does have time, he will take you out. He just likes seeing you happy, having a fun time, and experiencing new things and cultures, which makes him love you even more, making memories together that he will remember in his head.

-He loves helping you out with stuff, even when you insist not to. he still does it anyway. He's the type that will get you something when you can't reach it. He likes giving you piggyback rides or just carries you when you're tired.

- he loves spoiling you or just buying you anything. He likes taking you shopping and picking out stuff you like or reminds him of you. When he's far away from you and comes home from work, he gives you gifts,he brings you items like clothes, jewelry, scented candles, flowers, even though you tell him it's not necessary if he gets you gifts, you love him gift or no gift.

- he likes taking you on cute little dates, like going out to eat, concerts, or cafe, but if you don't wanna go out together, you like staying together, cuddling, watching a movie.

-He's so overprotective over you. He gives off big spoon type vibes since he's getting popular and his fans are crazy over him. If anyone talks bad about you or just hates on you, he'll shut it down real quick so you wouldn't feel bad about yourself. He doesn't care if anyone had anything to say about being with you he'll stick by your side.

-He's very goofy. He loves making you laugh or just saying corny jokes, playful banter and jokes, or randomly dancing, or putting on a show for you whenever you're bored. Well, you're never bored since you're with Nicholas he's your source of entertainment.

- cooking or baking together, which usually ends up good or just you two playing fighting and throwing stuff at each other, making a big mess, he likes seeing you cook, he loves your cooking and he's just amazed and likes watching how the food turns out.

- going on set with him, seeing him in character, and meeting his friends and co-stars.

-Sweet random texts: messages of him reminding you how much he loves you and your the only thing that's on his mind.

-He likes sending you memes or funny stuff that you and only him find funny.

-He makes a playlist about you with all of the songs that remind him of you, and he shares with you how much you mean to him.

- he likes taking you to the beach and just walking together and collecting sea shells or just looking at the ocean and how the ocean is pretty like you are.

●Nsfw

- this man has sex with you every minute, hour, second, every morning, night, day, besides doing cute stuff with you and showing his love towards, sex Is also one of his way through affection, whenever he's out of town you would take sexy pictures of yourself sending it to him teasing you, and all he can think about his ripping your underwear and just fuck you so hard.

- he has sex with you anywhere honestly, the living room, kitchen, couch, bathroom, whenever you two are he had to have you , he craves you for your touch, telling you how much you love him, and you need him.

- I feel like he's down with whatever, whatever your into he's into.

- he most definitely talks you through. His voice is so calming, he likes praising you or just saying little things when he's having sex with you.

"God, you're doing so well for me, baby~"

"Please, I can't take it anymore. Taking me so well, such a pretty girl~"

- size kink

-he's a huge tease, just like seeing you beg for him.

- he most definitely needy and whiny in bed, especially when you give him head or riding him.

- very vocal

-His favorite position is missonary he loves the way you're beneath him, seeing you squirm for him .

- making out all the time

- slow, passionate kisses

-he's very vanilla, but he can be very rough if you ask him to.

- you like leaving hickeys or marks on his body, and you think he looks so sexy on his body.

-lots of aftercare, he loves taking care of you after sex.

(Authors note: I know I haven't been active lately because of school or writing in general but finally I am, I hope you guys enjoy, I am super obsessed with his man he's so fine... enjoy the edit at the end.)

[nerdy-novelist017]

The Ride (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 2)

Wow, I truly didn't expect all the love for the last post! Thank you so so much! Here's a part two baked fresh just for you lovelies! ;)

( Also! I'm going to work on putting together a masterlist for my fics for him since I have so many ideas)

Ps. please send me requests for this man i'm going feral over here from all the possibilities

Part 1 here

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 1.9k

-Minor NSFW Content-

Summary- You thought getting on the bike would be the hardest part. Having to unwrap your legs from his waist and get off at the end of the night was significantly more difficult.

*******

Despite the fact that you knew there were multiple people surrounding you, all cheering, your eyes were glued to Benny’s form as he swung a leg over top of his bike. He kickstarted the motorcycle, the muscles in his thigh flexing through the faded pair of jeans he wore. The engine roared to life and it took everything in you not to jump back. Benny glanced over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes all but dared you to run away, to take it back and return to the safety of the car. 

But some underlying competitive streak in you flared and you clenched your fists tightly. You approached his bike and he took your purse and Tupperware bowl, tucking them away in his back compartment. He leaned forward and awkwardly swung a leg over his bike, attempting to repeat his action as you mounted, but the movement caused your dress to slide up to reveal a generous view of your upper thigh. Blushing, you glanced at the onlookers who cheered and whistled at the sight, but Benny seemed to ignore them. Without looking, he reached back, his hand enveloping your thigh, sliding it higher so that your foot found the footrest. Heat instantly blossomed from the contact and you physically resisted clenching your knees tighter around him. 

“Hang on tight, Little Bunny,” he murmured as he moved his hand to grab your arm, gently guiding it forward to wrap around his waist.  He revved the engine and you tighten your grasp over his waist, eyes closed as the bike began to slowly roll forward over the grassy field. The cheers subsided into the wind that tugged gently at your hair. You’re going on an adventure, it seemed to say, but you refused to open your eyes.

Heart drumming in your chest, you hoped to spend the entire ride with your eyes screwed shut, pretending to be anywhere else, anywhere safer. But then the bumpy and uneven field soon turned to smooth blacktop as he maneuvered the two of you onto the backroad. You felt the bike increase in speed slightly and you dared to peek an eye open. Corn fields blurred as you sped by, the setting sun seeming to light the horizon with a brilliant show of deep oranges and purples. A gasp escaped your lips and you pressed yourself closer to him in a desperate measure to not fall off, hands flush against the curve of his abdomen.  

He rode with one hand, you realized, and it painted a picture of a cowboy in your mind. Had this been the 1860s, Benny would have ridden his horse like this, a model of a true outlaw with his dangerous persona and ruggedly handsome appearance.

The world sped by, or rather you sped by the world as Benny drove down the center of the yellow lines. You couldn’t stop the squeal that escaped you as he leaned the bike to go around a turn. He took you down roads you’ve never been before, pointed out interesting things and places you’ve never seen. True to his word, he didn’t go very fast, never faster than the speed limit at least. But regardless, it was an adventure – both frightening and fun and your heart never seemed to return to its slower rhythm. Despite the fact that you've never ridden on a motorcycle before and the uncertainty of your next destination, there was strange sense of safety that invoked you as you breathed in Benny's scent, hands clasped tightly to him. As the sun completely dipped below the horizon and the temperature dropped, he finally asked you where you lived. 

When he did eventually pull up to your house (hours later), the rumble of the motorcycle seemed to echo off the houses, disturbing the peaceful silence of your quiet neighborhood. He cut the engine and the toe of his boot kicked out the kickstand, shifting your combined weights to the side slightly and the air was once again filled with silence. The muscles in his back flexed as he leaned back ever so slightly, his head turning to glance back at you over his shoulder.

He held an arm out for you as you awkwardly dismounted, heart pounding again. A strange sense of disappointment panged in your gut as the bottom of your heels made contact with the blacktop. You stood there before him, eyes now level with his as he remained seated casually on his bike. Keep driving, you wanted to tell him. Keep driving and let's find our way to the end of the world together. You wanted to hop back on the back and wrap your arms around his waist. You wanted to ride with him till the sun came up over the horizon, just this once, just because you’ve never stayed out till the sun came up. Your family would worry, your father would be pacing up and down the hallway just inside, but something in you longed to throw caution to the wind, to do something naughty. 

You bit your lip as you broke eye contact with him and looked down to your feet. What were you thinking? You played life by the rules. You were a good girl, that’s what your parents called you. That’s what your teachers called you. That’s what you were raised to be. That’s all you knew how to be, what you were comfortable with. Benny . . . he made you uncomfortable. He filled your belly with butterflies, made your heart pump harder than normal, made the spot between your legs tingle. All things that dangerously threatened to upend the perfectly planned life you had. Trouble, plain and simple.

You got what you wanted – a ride home and a bit of excitement. You got close enough to the fire without getting burned, got to play a risky game for the evening. Now it was time for you to go back to your routine life. That perfectly . . . boring life. 

“Thank you . . . for the ride,” you said softly, the adrenaline of the adventure smothering into ashes. 

He nodded and you watched as his cyan gaze moved from you to your house behind you. “You still live with your family?”

“Yeah,” you replied, heat touching your face. “Why?”

He looked back at you. “Just gotta know what kind of house you want after we’re married.”

“What?” you balked at him, stomach dropping like you just took a plunge off a bridge.

He smiled and leaned an arm forward, resting casually on his bike as if he didn’t just say something shockingly direct. He offered no help, just watched as you attempted to sputter a response.

“M–married? We . . . I don’t . . . even know you.” You breathed out a nervous laugh. You went for one ride with him! You had only had a handful of sentences exchanged between you, the majority of those spoken with a crowd cheering around you. Who did this guy think he was? 

He shrugged as he slid his hands into the front pocket of his jacket and retrieved his pack of cigarettes. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity. “I’m not marrying you!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” He looked amused as he flipped open his lighter, the flame casting his face in an orange glow as he lit one of his cigarettes. Your protests wavered slightly as you watched his hands cup around the flame in an effort to protect from the wind and his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the cigarette tucked between his lips. A phantasm of his hands cupping your breasts, his tall frame hovering above you, lips pressing softly against your collarbone tainted your mind and you took a step back to put physical distance between you and this man. 

Swallowing thickly, you continued, “Well, I don’t even know your last name–”

“Cross.”

“–And I don’t even know if I like you!”

“I think you like me,” he said confidently and you snapped your jaw shut at the accusation. “Why else would you let me drive you home?”

“W–what if I just used you to get me home?” you countered quickly. 

“Did you use me, Bunny?” he drew out the sentence with an almost painfully seductive smile. You furrowed your brow, irritation flooding your veins. He was quick, you’d give him that.

Benny studied the way your lips pursed and he wondered if that was something you did while you were angry or if it was your way of finding another excuse. He wanted to spend the rest of his life finding the answers to your facial expressions, the meaning behind your almost undetectable quirks he was discovering with each minute spent in your company. And my god, those those lips . . . his eyes fell down to those soft lips of yours, fascinated by how he wanted to feel them wrapped around his—

“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Cross,” your voice brought him back to reality as you reached forward and grabbed your purse and empty Tupperware bowl from his bike. “But I–I have no intentions on marrying you. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”

“Hmm, okay,” he feigned being hurt by your words. “Whatever you say, kid.” 

You shot him a frustrated look. “What’s with all the nicknames?”

He held up his arms in mock surrender. “You don’t like ‘em?”

"I don't think they're very accurate."

He raised his brows at you, unconvinced.

“Yeah? Well, I got a nickname for you.” you retorted. 

“And what’s that?” He played along to your game. 

“Trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Mh-hm.” You nodded and lifted your free hand to brush the wind-whipped hair from your eyes.

He shrugged and spoke around the cigarette in his mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that. You think I’m trouble, Bunny?”

An exasperated sigh left your lips and Benny felt a swell of pride at the reaction. This was fun, teasing you like this. The blush tainting your face, a clear sign of your flustered reaction, made his heartbeat quicken. 

“Goodnight, Benny,” you said a little firmer as you turned and walked up the sidewalk to your house. 

“Goodnight, Bunny,” Benny called out as he watched the sway of your hips as you climbed the front steps. You shot him one last look over the curve of your shoulder before you opened the front door and slipped inside. Benny sat on his bike outside your house, his mind reeling as he finished his cigarette. He hadn’t felt this excited in a long time and hadn't felt this kind of adrenaline since his first ride. This was a new kind of ride, Benny realized. Something exhilarating and arousing gripped his heart when he looked at you in your pretty little dress with your innocently wide eyes and pouty lip. The primal instinct of taking you in his arms and laying you down onto your shared bed, his body shielding you from the rest of the world played in his mind the movie. He wanted to grab your hand and show you just how exciting life could be with him. Not to change you, he’d make sure your integrity was protected, but to broaden your horizon.

And maybe it made him selfish, but Benny's never had anything as good as you in his life and because of that, he wanted to be your guide throughout every adventure going forward.

[annarubys]

with all due respect i understand why people would want anything spn related to move to hbo if the cw completely goes under but they are never gonna put the jary prequel on the same network as game of thrones and succession and not cancel it i’m sorry

[starboyshoyo]

Courting, Pining, or Flirting? 

Characters: All NRC students x reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland 

Genre: fluff

Do the NRC boys court you, pine for you, or flirt with you? 

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle Rosehearts will do his best in courting you. Raised to be strict and formal, he has virtually no idea of what love is, or how to express it. The best he got was the fairytales of princesses and knights in his childhood. So he’ll follow their lead to the best of his ability. Riddle will give you his blazer jacket, and take your arm in his when navigating crowded hallways- he’ll even bow to you when saying goodnight, placing a tender kiss on your hand. Riddle might need a bit of a confidence boost before he performs a moonlight soliloquy under your balcony, though. 

Ace Trappola, unsurprisingly, enjoys flirting with you. What can he say, he’s a fun-loving guy! That extends to all parts of his life, including you. When the two of you are watching movies on his laptop in Ramshackle Dorm, he’ll tug the blanket away, forcing you to cuddle up to him for warmth. One day in class, a crumpled paper ball will hit you on the shoulder, reading: DO YOU LIKE ME? YES/NO ;) It’s childish, but somehow endearing.

Deuce Spade, ever the gentleman, will try (keyword: try) his best in courting you. His mom didn’t raise a brat! Listening to her advice, he’ll buy you flowers, ask you out on the weekends, and drape his jacket over your shoulders when you get cold. It’s a lot less smooth than it sounds, though. He’ll be a blushing, stuttering mess the entire time and accidentally spill his plans to you before he can execute them. Then he’ll apologize and spill even more of his plans- and alas, the cycle continues. 

Trey Clover is surprisingly good at flirting! Trey is confident in his ability to charm people. Even the most uptight of Prefects tend to relax a little around him. Of course, the delicious handmade pastries he often brings along with him are just a bonus. They’re an easy way to strike up a conversation with you, getting you to spill more and more about yourself to him. He’s comfortable to talk to, isn’t he? Oh, is that baked good your favorite? Expect a box of them to show up on your desk within the next week, along with a coy little note: Sweets for the sweet. 

Cater Diamond, on the surface, is definitely into flirting. He chases anything and everything within a fifty-meter radius of himself, and giving his posts on Magicam so much as a comment will result in a Hey cutie ;) popping up in your DM notifications at 1 AM. But with a person that Cater truly loves, face to face, he won’t do anything more than stay by your side as a supportive friend, pining from afar. He’s afraid of messing this up. Do you even see him that way? Please say you do. 

SAVANACLAW

Leona Kingscholar does all three, in the order of pining, courting, and flirting. Hear me out: Leona pines, but not in a hopeless way. Instead, he just figures that he doesn’t have the time or emotional investment for a relationship. But once the feelings began to grow, Leona gets desperate. He doesn’t want opportunities to slip through his fingers without doing anything. So he’ll begin subtly hanging out with you more, until it reaches the courting stage. At that point, he becomes visibly softer and less harsh around you. He’ll only really be comfortable flirting and being playful with you once you’re in an established relationship, not before. 

Ruggie Bucchi is into casual flirting- Well, he’s into it until he realizes he’s fallen so hard that he can’t climb back out. It’s all fun and games to him at first. Oh, you want to pet his ears? Maybe trading that cookie of yours from the lunch buffet would be suitable collateral. You think he looks good in the PE uniform? There’s more where that came from. Want him to accompany you on a late-night errand? Of course! He loves spending time with you- Wait, when did that happen? 

Jack Howl follows his sharp instincts on everything, and every sign is pointing at him courting you like a true gentleman. He knows he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got no problem cleaning his act up for you. Putting on a suit and tie and using a bit of gel in his hair and around his ears is a small price to pay for your affection. He’s not particularly shy about showing you he has feelings for you, but outright telling you might take a bit more time and effort.

OCTAVINELLE

Azul Ashengrotto is painfully, unequivocally deep in pining for you. There’s just no way around it is there? Oh, what he wouldn’t give to crawl into his tako pot and hide when you’re around. You’re on his mind every second of every day, and he lays in bed every night wondering if you see him the same way. Is he handsome to you? Is he smart? He wants to hold you so bad but he won’t do it until you tell him yes, I like you too, first.

Jade Leech, ever the calm, collected one, excels at smooth flirting. He just knows you like him as much as he likes you, and he’s not afraid to point it out. It’s not like you’re subtle about it either- with the way you sit in a corner booth of Mostro Lounge for hours, just to be able to talk with him after-hours over leftover pastries and tea. You wouldn’t mind if he did this with you more often, would you? 

Floyd Leech has his unique way of flirting, just like everything else in his life. You’re just so exciting, Shrimpy! Won’t you tell him a little more about your day? Even just the little things, like how many pages of notes you took in History of Magic class or an answer to a test question or two- he’s kidding, he’s kidding! All jokes aside, Floyd truly does enjoy your company and the ways you spice up his life. 

SCARABIA

Kalim Al-Asim does none of the three, surprisingly. He’s so bright it might not even occur to you that he’s interested until you’re already three layers deep. He’s always been a friendly person, so when he begins inviting you to hang out all the time, you wouldn’t give it a second thought. It’s only when you notice him trying to do things for you rather than just with you do you realize his feelings might run a little deeper than just friendship. He tries to be chivalrous, but it usually just comes off as him playing at being your prince charming. The closest you could get to describing what Kalim does is playful, friendly courting- albeit a very unconventional form of it. 

Jamil Viper is used to never getting what he wants. Somewhere along the line he stopped trying. So when you step into his life, shining but not blinding like Kalim, he hesitates. Is he ready to take such a risk? All he knows for sure is that he wants you in his life… someday. So quietly, in between classes and in the hallways, he’ll be pining for you from afar- hoping you’ll make the first move, so that he won’t have to worry about Kalim whisking you away.

POMEFIORE

Vil Schoenheit thinks he has never met someone so beautiful before. You might even be half as beautiful as he is! It’s a huge compliment coming from someone like him. You’re also half as smart, almost as strong, and maybe he’d consider taking you out for lunch- but don’t get it twisted! He’s doing this out of the goodness of his heart. (He likes you. He really likes you. Please date him.) It’s not very good flirting, but he’s trying his best.

Rook Hunt is flamboyant and genuine in everything he does, which includes flirting with you, his longtime crush. You have the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen! Would you mind if he admired it for a while? He’ll brag about you to everyone around him, much to the irritation of Vil, who finds it offensive that his biggest supporter has ‘betrayed’ him for another. Rook doesn’t care, though. If you so pleased, he’d be more than happy to walk you to your next class. Anything to bask in your unmatched beauty just a few seconds longer. 

Epel Felmier is good at flirting, and he’s confident about it too! A rough and tumble farm boy like him needs a cute thing on his arm to show off, doesn’t he? Don’t laugh at him- he’s trying to impress you. He’ll do anything he can to prove to you that he’s a strong, capable person and your perfect match. Let him carry your books, and serve you in the cafeteria buffet line. When you share a snack together, he’ll lean just a bit too close, letting his cheek brush against yours before pulling away. Come on, look him in the eyes! Or are you too shy~

IGNIHYDE

Idia Shroud has never met you in real life. You’ve never seen his face, but he’s seen yours through the camera of his tablet at housewarden meetings. Maybe it’s the pent up stress speaking, but wow, you’re way out of his league. Best to make casual conversation and repress his pining over a game of online chess, lest he screw it all up in real life. 

DIASOMNIA

Malleus Draconia is a lonely soul who knows little more than a life of isolation. When you walk into his life, unafraid of the twisted black crown that sits on his head or the ominous aura that seems to surround him, he has to wonder if after all these years he’s finally found his soulmate. Immediately, he wants to make plans to see you every day, to listen to you ramble about anything and everything beyond the briar walls around his castle. Stay a while and talk with him, won’t you? Malleus is the true definition of patience and indulgence when he’s courting you. 

Lilia Vanrouge isn’t one for mere high school relationships. He’s a father and a general! He’s got a teenager to raise and armies to lead, on top the infamously heavy homework load from NRC classes. You’d have to be really important to him to find a place in his ancient heart. Sure, he’ll have his fun with flirting and all, but no one can really expect a thousand-year old fae to fall in love… right?

Sebek Zigvolt is shocked, no pun intended. There’s no way a fae like himself has fallen for a mere human! No, he won’t accept it. Sebek will turn in somersaults and bend over backwards to make any excuse on why he is not in love with you, he’s just a bit agitated today! Ironically, he makes things harder for himself with this mindset, condemning himself to pining for you from afar. 

Silver, like his name, wants to be your knight in shining armor- he’s just not quite sure how to go about it yet. He supposes he’ll ask for your parents’ permission to begin courting you, first. That’s the tradition in the Valley of Thorns after all. But when Lilia points out that it’s a bit old-fashioned, he’ll simply agree and go along with whatever terrible plans the rest of Diasomnia comes up with next. Be prepared to be barraged with an awful yet endearing mix of pick-up lines, cheesy love letters, and classic romance songs that this quartet comes up with in their free time. The best thing? Silver himself won’t even be awake for half of it. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[ros3ybabe]

🎀 Hobbies 🎀

I feel as tho I don't have much time to do things besides school, work, some chores, and survive right now, but I've been thinking about some hobbies I enjoy and would like to incorporate into my life when I decide to make the time without burning out!

Reading - I used to be big on reading just about any books I could get my hands on. Then I was really focused on reading self help, and now that I haven't been reading at all, I've been thinking about getting back into reading. Always looking for book recommendations, and I do have my eye on some books I'd like to purchase.

Gardening - if I had the time and space, I'd love to have a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It always makes me happy when the fruits of my efforts come to life, so tending to plants and gardening sounds super fun and relaxing.

Video Games - I used to play video games on and off, but I wouldn't mind owning a PS4 or a Switch and spending some time playing video games whenever I'd want time to wind down.

Cooking/Baking - I love learning things, and the sense of pride I've gotten in the past when receiving praise for things I've cooked or baked has really driven me to want to increase my skill. I've only baked something from scratch once in my life, but I'd really like to expand my skills in making desserts.

Exercise - I'm talking all forms of it! Dancing, martial arts/kickboxing type activities, yoga, pilates, running, swimming, spin/cycling, weight lifting (again), calisthenics, all of it! I don't currently look like the exercise type but I find various forms of movement to be so fun! If I had more time, I'd be trying new things all the time!

Volunteer work - This is something I used to do all the time, and it's a hobby that I enjoyed that kept me humble. Not only that, but I thoroughly enjoy showing kindness and compassion to others. Making a difference in anuwau brings me so much joy, and I love meeting new people and learning their stories. I also would love to volunteer with animals, because they deserve so much love and affection too!

Drawing/Art - I used to draw for fun but when I started college, I didn't have the time to devote to continuously increasing my art skills. I still own a sketch kit, coloring materials, and several sketchbooks so it really is a matter of having time.

Crochet - The thought of making things that I can gift to others seriously makes me so excited!! Crochet seems like such a fun, crafty, relaxing activity and the added fun of gifting those crafts to others would make it so fun!!

Scrapbooking - I don't know if I'd ever do this one, but I do Ike the idea of keeping my memories in a physical space, and not just in like pictures on my phone.

Learning - if school wasn't crazy busy, I'd spend all my time learning languages (ASL, Japanese, Spanish, Korean, Mandarin, Italian, etc), computer coding skills, how to make and do certain things, just anything I can do to keep my mind enriched.

Upcycling/Altering Clothes - I would love to upcycle or alter articles of clothes into more personalized pieces for myself. The thought of having a personalized, hand made closet full of clothes makes me really want to buy a sewing machine and learn how to use it to my advantage!

That's all I can think of for now that I'd like to someday incorporate into my life. Having hobbies is always so fun, but I've been so busy and tired that I don't mess with any of the hobbies I'd want to do. If anyone has any tips for time management, or resources for beginning new hobbies, please let me know!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. ��Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

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[novaursa]

The Cold Embrace (2/2)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: As time passes, snow begins to melt.

- Paring: velayrion!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: @missisjoker So, here is the second and last part straight from the oven that was being baked all night. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys like this conclusion of this two part story.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 8 000+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess @jellybeanstacey0519 @strengthandstay @anne-mary-1d @lovelyteenagebeard

The crisp chill of autumn clung to the air, painting the landscape of Winterfell in muted shades of orange and gold. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, and the days had grown shorter, yet despite the changing season, little had thawed between you and Cregan Stark. The cold inside the walls of Winterfell seemed to mirror the tension that still lingered between the two of you, each day marked by stilted conversations and, more often than not, sharp exchanges.

Today was no different.

"You speak of duty as if it’s something noble," you spat, your voice tight as you stood across from Cregan in the courtyard, your cloak billowing in the wind. "But this—this life you’ve trapped me in—it’s a cage. You call it honor, but what is honorable about ripping me away from my family?"

Cregan, his expression as hard as the stone walls surrounding you, stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. The northern winds blew through the yard, stirring his dark hair as he met your gaze with his own unflinching one. "A cage? Is that what you see this as? I have given you more freedom than many would expect from a lord. You come and go as you please, and I have not demanded anything of you that you have not been ready to give."

"You think freedom means letting me roam these cold, barren lands?" you shot back, your voice rising. "I am a dragon, Cregan, not some northern wolf content with howling at the moon. I am bound to the skies, to fire and wind, and every moment I am here, I wither. You cannot understand that."

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with frustration. "I have done everything to make this a home for you," he said, his tone dangerously low. "But it’s clear that nothing will ever satisfy you. You’re too busy yearning for something you’ve lost to see what is right in front of you."

You scoffed, turning away from him, your steps hurried as you walked toward the godswood, needing space, needing air. "There is nothing here for me but snow and silence," you muttered, though you knew he heard you.

Cregan watched you go, his heart heavy as the weight of your words settled in. He stood there for a long moment, the wind tugging at his cloak, his expression unreadable. Inside, however, there was a storm brewing—a storm of disappointment, frustration, and something else, something deeper that he had been trying to deny for months.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he turned and made his way back into the keep, his mind racing with thoughts he could no longer ignore.

In the warmth of the solar, the fire crackled in the hearth, its light casting flickering shadows across the room. Grand Maester Kennet sat across from Cregan, his wise old eyes studying the lord with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"You’ve been quieter than usual, my lord," Kennet said, folding his hands in his lap. "Something weighs heavily on you."

Cregan leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames. He had kept his feelings bottled up for so long, unwilling to admit to anyone, let alone himself, how much this situation had affected him. But now, with the distance between him and you growing each day, the burden felt too great to carry alone.

"She doesn’t want to be here," Cregan said quietly, his voice rough with an emotion he rarely let show. "No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to make this place a home for her, she only sees Winterfell as a prison. She longs for Dragonstone. For her family."

Kennet nodded thoughtfully, his expression sympathetic. "It is not uncommon for one to yearn for the place of their birth, especially when it’s been taken from them. The Princess... she is like her mother, strong-willed and fierce. The North is a different world for someone raised among dragons and fire."

Cregan exhaled slowly, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed a hand over his face. "I know that. I’ve known it since the day she arrived. But... there’s more. It’s not just that she can’t find a place here." He paused, his voice dropping, as if the words themselves were difficult to admit. "I care for her, Kennet. More than I thought I ever would. When Jacaerys first came to me, he spoke of her with such passion and admiration. He told me stories of her strength, her spirit, how she was a woman who could stand beside any man, even one like me. And I believed him. I admired her before I even met her."

The Maester listened in silence, his brow furrowed in thought as Cregan continued.

"And when she arrived," Cregan went on, his gaze distant, "I saw it. Everything Jacaerys said was true. She’s fierce, and proud, and... gods, she’s beautiful in her own way. But she looks at me like I’m the reason for all her misery, like I’ve taken something from her that she can never get back. She’ll never see me as anything but the man who keeps her from the life she wants."

Kennet sighed softly, shaking his head. "Love is a complicated thing, my lord. You cannot force it, nor can you expect it to bloom in a place of resentment. The Princess... she is grieving the life she left behind. She may yet come to see what you offer, but it will take time."

Cregan’s eyes flickered with doubt as he looked at the older man. "Time may be something we don’t have. The war brews in the South, and her family is at the heart of it. She feels trapped here while her brothers and mother fight for the throne. I’ve heard her speak of it—how the North is no place for dragons, how she feels as though she’s losing herself in the cold."

The Maester tilted his head, considering Cregan’s words carefully. "It is true that the North is no easy place for a soul like hers. But perhaps... perhaps if you can show her that she can still be who she is, even here, she might come to find her place."

Cregan stood from his seat, pacing the room, the weight of his frustration palpable. "How can I show her that when she refuses to let me in? Every time we speak, it turns into an argument. She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t want to be here, and she certainly doesn’t want to be with me."

Kennet rose slowly, his hands resting on the table as he regarded Cregan with a calm, steady gaze. "Then you must be patient, my lord. If you truly care for the Princess, you will have to endure her fire, much like one endures the harshest winters. But winters pass, and even in the North, the snow melts. Perhaps in time, her heart will soften."

Cregan sighed deeply, staring into the fire once more. He wished it were as simple as waiting for the snow to melt, but as the days passed, he feared the rift between him and you was growing too wide to ever close.

He wanted you to see him, truly see him, not as the man who kept you here but as someone who could stand beside you, strong enough to weather the storm of your spirit. But until then, all he could do was wait.

And hope.

The halls of Winterfell buzzed with an unusual energy, a hive of activity that Cregan hadn’t expected so soon after the summer's end. The brisk wind of autumn howled through the open courtyards, and yet the chill in the air was not the only sign that winter was approaching. Men and women rushed through the keep, arms filled with supplies, voices rising in quick, urgent conversation.

Cregan furrowed his brow as he observed the flurry of work. His bannermen and servants seemed to be following orders, yet none had come directly from him. His curiosity piqued, he caught sight of one of his men, Ser Roland, directing a group of stable hands with a sense of urgency. Cregan made his way over, his long strides carrying him across the courtyard.

"Ser Roland," he called out, his deep voice cutting through the noise. "What’s all this about? I don’t recall ordering preparations for winter just yet."

Ser Roland turned quickly, bowing his head in respect before answering. "Lord Stark, it’s not your orders we’re following. The Princess has taken it upon herself to make sure Winterfell is ready for the long winter ahead. She’s been directing the stores, making changes to the rations, and ensuring that all livestock are accounted for."

Cregan’s brow lifted in surprise. "The Princess? I wasn’t aware she had taken an interest in such matters."

Ser Roland nodded, his expression a mixture of admiration and confusion. "Aye, my lord. She’s had us reorganize the grain stores and instructed that additional salt be used to preserve meats in case the winter lasts longer than expected. She also had some of the women gather herbs and berries for medicinal stocks—said it’s something her mother did on Dragonstone. Even ordered new tunnels to be dug beneath the walls, should the snow block access to certain parts of the keep. It’s... impressive."

Cregan was silent for a moment, taken aback by the level of thought and strategy that had gone into the preparations. The Princess, who had made it clear she despised this place, was ensuring it would withstand winter’s cruelty. And yet, she hadn’t spoken a word of it to him. His initial surprise gave way to a grudging respect.

"And where is she now?" Cregan asked, his tone more curious than demanding.

Roland hesitated before answering. "The Princess took to the skies a short while ago, my lord. She went flying on Silverwing."

"Flying," Cregan repeated, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t unusual for you to seek solace in the skies, but the flicker of worry began to creep in. "And who accompanied her?"

Roland shifted, his expression turning sheepish. "Your son, my lord. Young Rickon went with her."

Cregan stiffened, his heart quickening at the thought of Rickon riding atop Silverwing. His instinct was to feel alarmed—to think of all the things that could go wrong with a boy so young riding a dragon, even one as gentle as Silverwing. For a moment, the image of his son, small and fragile, atop such a powerful beast made him want to storm out and demand answers.

But then he stopped himself. Rickon was not some fragile boy. He was his son, a Stark, raised to face the wild north and the dangers that came with it. And more than that, Silverwing was under your command, a dragon bound to your will. His mind raced with the desire to scold you for being reckless, but something held him back. Rickon had begged for a chance to fly, ever since he had seen the dragons for the first time.

"Thank you, Roland," Cregan said curtly, turning away from the bustling activity of the courtyard and heading toward the godswood where he knew you often landed with Silverwing.

The cold air bit at Cregan's face as he walked through the open fields behind Winterfell. The godswood stood tall and silent in the distance, but it was the open expanse of land beyond it that caught his attention. There, just returning from the skies, was Silverwing. Her massive form settled gracefully on the ground, her wings folding in with practiced ease as you and Rickon dismounted.

He could see Rickon from afar, his small figure bounding toward the keep, his face lit up with sheer joy. As Cregan approached, he heard his son before he saw him up close.

"Father!" Rickon shouted, running full speed toward Cregan, his excitement bubbling over. "I flew, Father! I flew on Silverwing! She let me ride with her, and we soared above the trees! You should’ve seen it!"

The boy’s face was flushed with exhilaration, his cheeks red from the cold wind, and his eyes sparkled with uncontainable glee. He practically bounced in front of Cregan, his enthusiasm infectious.

Cregan knelt down, placing a hand on Rickon’s shoulder. "Did you now?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "And you weren’t afraid?"

Rickon shook his head vigorously. "No! The Princess told me not to worry. She said Silverwing wouldn’t let anything happen to me." His voice dropped to a near-whisper, eyes wide with awe. "And she didn’t. I felt like I was part of the sky. Can I go again, Father? Please?"

Cregan looked down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the boy’s bravery. The initial urge to reprimand you, to accuse you of putting his son at risk, faded as he saw the pure joy on Rickon’s face. How could he take that away from him?

He stood up, his eyes drifting toward you. You were brushing snow from your cloak, your gaze turned elsewhere, as if trying to pretend you hadn’t noticed him approaching. But you had noticed. You always did.

For a moment, Cregan was silent, the tension between the two of you palpable. He could have said something. Could have warned you against taking such risks with his son. But instead, he let out a quiet sigh, looking back down at Rickon.

"You can go again," he said softly, ruffling the boy’s hair. "But only when the Princess says it's safe."

Rickon beamed and immediately ran off toward the keep, his excitement carrying him as fast as his legs could take him. Cregan watched him go, then turned his gaze back to you. You still hadn’t spoken, but your eyes met his, guarded as always.

"I should scold you," he said, his tone measured. "You had no right to take Rickon flying without asking me first."

You straightened, your chin lifting slightly. "He wanted to go. And Silverwing wouldn’t have harmed him."

Cregan nodded, but his expression remained serious. "I know. But he’s still my son. And as much as he may adore dragons, I need to know he’s safe."

The tension hung between you for a moment longer, but Cregan couldn’t help the way his heart softened slightly. Despite everything—despite the constant bickering, the distance between you—he could see that while you might not want this marriage, you cared for Rickon. The way you had taken him flying, giving him the one thing that had brought him so much joy, didn’t go unnoticed.

"Perhaps," Cregan added quietly, his tone softer now, "you don’t want me. But you will be a good mother to Rickon. I can see that."

For a moment, you didn’t respond, your expression unreadable. Then you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I’ll keep him safe," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan watched you for a long moment before turning and heading back toward Winterfell. The coldness between you two remained, but now there was a small crack in the icy wall that had stood between you since the moment you arrived.

The cold air was sharper here, beyond the walls of Winterfell, biting deep into Cregan’s skin as he led his men through the thick snow-covered wilderness. The northern winds howled, carrying with them the scent of pine and frost, mingled with something far more sinister—the smell of smoke from a Wildling camp. They had been tracking the Wildlings for days now, ever since word came that a raiding party had crossed the Wall, attacking isolated settlements and stealing what little food and supplies they could find before winter’s full grip took hold.

Cregan’s blood thrummed with the familiar tension that came before battle. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword as he and his men closed in. They could see the crude campfires in the distance, flickering like beacons in the darkening forest.

"Stay low," Cregan whispered to his men, his voice barely audible above the wind. The Stark bannermen, seasoned and loyal, followed his command without hesitation. They fanned out in a loose line, their cloaks blending into the snowy landscape.

The Wildlings had set up in a small clearing, their crude weapons and fur-lined tents marking them as a desperate group. There were perhaps a dozen of them—armed with spears, axes, and the occasional rusty sword—but they were not to be underestimated. Wildlings were fierce, survivalists hardened by the lands beyond the Wall. This fight would be bloody.

Cregan motioned to his men, and in unison, they surged forward, the snow muffling their approach until they were nearly upon the camp.

The first clash came fast and violent.

Cregan’s sword met the steel of a Wildling’s axe, the sharp clang of metal ringing out into the frigid night. The raiders shouted in surprise, their camp erupting into chaos as the Stark men descended upon them. The Wildlings fought back viciously, their crude weapons swinging wildly, aiming for any vulnerable flesh they could find.

Cregan swung his blade with precision, cleaving through a Wildling’s chest, blood spraying across the snow like ink on parchment. He turned just in time to parry another blow, gritting his teeth as the impact jarred his arm. Around him, the sounds of battle raged—shouts, screams, the wet thud of bodies falling into the snow.

But then, something sharp and hot bit into his side.

Cregan gasped, stumbling back as a Wildling spear pierced his flesh just below his ribs. The pain was immediate and blinding, spreading like fire through his body. His grip faltered on his sword for a moment, but he didn’t let go. With a roar, he swung his blade in a brutal arc, slicing through the man who had struck him. The Wildling crumpled to the ground, but Cregan was already weakening, his vision blurring at the edges.

The fight continued around him, his men cutting down the remaining Wildlings, but every movement Cregan made sent waves of pain crashing through him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright, even as the blood began to seep through his furs, staining the snow beneath his feet a dark crimson.

At last, the battle was over. The Wildlings lay dead, their bodies scattered across the snow like broken dolls. Cregan’s men stood victorious, though bruised and bloodied themselves.

One of his men, Ser Vayon, rushed over to him, his face pale with worry as he saw the blood. "My lord! You’re wounded."

Cregan waved him off, trying to mask the severity of his injury. "I’ll live," he growled, though his voice was weaker than he intended. "But I can’t make it back as fast as the rest of you. Take the others and ride ahead. Get help."

Ser Vayon hesitated, his eyes darting between Cregan and the rest of the men. "We can carry you—"

"No," Cregan interrupted, his tone firm despite the pain. "I’ll slow you down. If you ride ahead, you’ll reach Winterfell faster. I’ll follow behind." His vision blurred for a moment, and he had to steady himself against a nearby tree. "Go. That’s an order."

Reluctantly, Ser Vayon nodded, glancing back at the other men. "As you command, my lord."

With that, they mounted their horses, casting one last worried glance at him before spurring their mounts and riding off through the snow. Cregan watched them go, the sound of hooves fading into the distance, leaving him alone in the quiet, snow-covered forest.

He took a few shaky steps, but each movement sent a fresh wave of agony through his body. His hand clutched his side where the blood still flowed, staining the white snow beneath his boots. The world around him tilted, and he fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He tried to rise, but his strength was failing, his body too weak to carry him any further.

Just as his vision began to swim, he heard a sound—a distant, high-pitched screech that cut through the silence like a knife.

Cregan blinked, his vision blurring as something massive appeared in the sky above him. He squinted through the haze of pain, trying to focus, and then he saw it—Silverwing, her silver-scaled body descending from the clouds like a gleaming specter. The dragon landed with a soft thud, her wings folding as she approached him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Cregan cursed under his breath, trying to wave her off with a weak motion of his hand. "Go on, beast," he muttered, his voice slurred with exhaustion. "I’m not your rider."

But Silverwing ignored him, her massive head lowering as she nudged him gently with her nose. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such a fearsome creature, as if the dragon knew he was on the brink of collapse. She nudged him again, more insistently this time, her warm breath washing over him as if urging him to stand.

Cregan tried to push her away, but his strength was gone. "Damn dragon," he rasped, his body trembling from blood loss. "Leave me."

Silverwing let out a low rumble, her large eyes narrowing as if in disapproval. She nudged him one last time, and when he still didn’t move, she took matters into her own talons. With surprising care, Silverwing wrapped her claws around his body, lifting him effortlessly from the snow.

Cregan groaned, the world spinning around him as Silverwing took flight, the sensation of being carried through the sky both terrifying and surreal. His body was limp in her talons, the wind whipping through his hair as they soared above the treetops, Winterfell a distant shadow on the horizon.

His eyelids grew heavy, the pain in his side fading as numbness took over. The world below him grew smaller, the sky a dark blur above.

As Silverwing’s wings beat rhythmically, the wind howling in his ears, Cregan's consciousness began to slip away, the edges of his vision turning black.

The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was Winterfell’s walls in the distance, growing closer with every beat of Silverwing’s wings. Then, nothing.

Cregan Stark knew no more.

The courtyard of Winterfell was a storm of chaos as you pushed through the throngs of servants and guards, your heart racing, breath short. The cold northern wind stung your face, but you barely felt it. All you could focus on was the sight ahead—Silverwing, her massive silver form crouched low on the snow, her head lowered protectively over a motionless figure sprawled at her feet. You shoved past a startled servant, your voice rising above the din of panic.

"Move aside!" you barked, pushing through the crowd until you finally reached the clearing where Cregan lay, blood staining the snow beneath him, his face pale and ashen.

Silverwing rumbled softly as you approached, her enormous eyes watching you, but she made no move to stop you. Her wings shifted, creating a barrier between the man she had carried home and the gathering onlookers.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The sight of Cregan—your husband, though it had never felt real until this moment—bleeding and unconscious before his own keep sent a surge of fear through you that you hadn’t expected.

"Where is Rickon?" you demanded, whirling around to one of the women standing near the edge of the scene. Rickon’s nanny stepped forward, worry etched on her face.

"He was playing with the other children when we heard the commotion," she said nervously, glancing toward Silverwing. "Should I—?"

"Find him," you interrupted quickly, your voice firmer than it had been in weeks. "Keep him away from here. I don’t want him seeing his father like this."

The woman nodded, clearly relieved to have something to do, and hurried off into the crowd. You turned back toward Cregan just as Maester Kennet knelt beside him, his hands moving with the steady calm of a man who had seen too many battle injuries in his lifetime. His fingers probed at the wound beneath Cregan’s furs, his face grim.

"Will he live?" you asked, unable to keep the edge of desperation from creeping into your voice.

Kennet didn’t look up, his attention still fixed on the blood-soaked gash. "The wound is deep, but he’s strong. If we can stop the bleeding and keep the fever from setting in, he has a chance. But we need to get him inside—now."

Already, several of Cregan’s men were lifting him carefully onto a makeshift stretcher, their faces pale with worry. You followed as they carried him toward the castle, your feet moving without thought. The icy wind cut through your cloak, but you ignored it. The only thing you could focus on was the sight of Cregan’s lifeless form being carried through the halls of Winterfell, his breathing shallow and labored.

As they reached his chambers, the men gently placed him on the large bed, stepping back to allow Maester Kennet to work. You hovered just beyond the bedside, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides, helplessness gnawing at you. Despite everything—despite the constant arguments, the coldness between you—you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him like this. The stark realization struck you hard, knocking the wind from your lungs.

You didn’t want him to die.

For what felt like hours, Kennet worked over Cregan’s body, stitching the wound with deft hands and applying herbs to stave off infection. You stood nearby, your eyes never leaving Cregan’s pale face. He was so still, too still. The sight of him like this made the cold inside Winterfell seem even more unbearable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kennet finished his work. The room was filled with the scent of medicinal salves and the sharp tang of blood. The old Maester wiped his hands on a cloth and turned to you, exhaustion etched in every line of his face.

"I’ve done all I can for now," he said quietly. "He will need time to heal, but whether he wakes or not depends on his own strength."

You nodded mutely, your throat tight with unspoken fear. "Thank you, Maester," you managed to whisper. Kennet gave a small nod, then gathered his supplies and left the room, leaving you alone with Cregan.

For a long time, you stood there, staring at the man who had become your husband, the man you had fought with, resented, and yet now feared to lose. His breathing was shallow, but steady, the rise and fall of his chest a small reassurance in the overwhelming uncertainty that hung over the room.

Without thinking, you moved closer to the bed, sinking into the chair beside him. Your hand reached out almost instinctively, and before you could stop yourself, your fingers closed around his. His hand was rough and calloused, larger than yours, but in this moment, it felt fragile.

"You stubborn, foolish man," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held onto him. "You always have to be the hero, don’t you?"

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, unwilling to give in to the fear gnawing at your insides. Instead, you lowered your head, closing your eyes as you prayed softly in Valyrian, the words flowing from your lips in a desperate plea to the gods of your ancestors.

"Grant him strength," you whispered, tightening your grip on his hand. "Give him the will to fight, to wake up."

The room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the warmth of the flames doing little to thaw the cold dread that had settled in your chest. You stayed by his bedside, refusing to leave, your heart pounding with every passing second.

Despite everything, you weren’t ready to let him go. Not yet.

And so, you stayed, waiting, praying, and hoping that Cregan Stark—your husband—would find his way back to you.

Cregan awoke slowly, his mind swimming through the thick fog of pain and disorientation. The world around him was hazy, the room spinning as he tried to make sense of where he was. His body felt heavy, weighed down by a deep, aching fatigue that seemed to seep into his very bones. He blinked, his vision clearing little by little, and as the soft flicker of firelight came into focus, he realized he was back in his chambers, the familiar scent of burning wood and herbs filling the air.

It was then that he noticed her.

You sat beside his bed, your arms crossed, your expression a mixture of concern and irritation. The furrow in your brow deepened as you noticed him stirring, your lips pressed into a thin line that barely masked the relief you must have felt. Despite the heaviness in his limbs and the sharp pain that shot through his side with every breath, Cregan couldn’t help but find it almost... amusing. There you were, the Dragon Princess, always so fierce and untamable, looking as though you were about to scold him, even now.

"You're awake," you said sharply, though there was a tremor of emotion beneath your voice that gave you away.

Cregan tried to sit up, wincing as the pain lanced through his side, but before he could make much progress, you were leaning forward, pushing him back down with a firm hand on his chest.

"Don’t even think about it," you warned, your tone brooking no argument. "Maester Kennet said you shouldn’t move. Not unless you want to tear your stitches and end up back in this bed for even longer."

He lay back with a grunt, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the discomfort. "Well, I wouldn’t want to upset the Maester," he muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse.

You gave him a look that would have wilted lesser men. "You almost died out there, Cregan."

The smirk faded from his face as he looked at you more closely. There was something in your eyes—something raw and unguarded. The irritation, the frustration—it was all there, but beneath it, there was a depth of feeling that surprised him. You were angry, yes, but not just at him. You were angry because you had been scared. Scared of losing him.

The realization hit him like a punch to the chest, and for the first time in years, he felt something stir inside him. It was warmth, not from the fire in the hearth, but from the way you were looking at him—fierce and tender all at once. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him in that way, and now, seeing it in you—the woman who had resisted him, who had fought him every step of the way—brought a strange sense of peace to his heart.

"You care," he said softly, more to himself than to you.

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter as you sat back in the chair. "Of course I care. You’re my husband, for better or worse." Your tone was sharp, but the emotion in your eyes betrayed you.

Cregan couldn’t help but chuckle, even though it sent a sharp pain through his side. "I didn’t think you’d admit that so easily."

You glared at him, though the fire in your eyes wasn’t the same angry blaze he was used to. It was different now—softer, though no less fierce. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back. "I’m only here because Rickon can’t see you like this. He’d worry too much."

Cregan’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "So, you’re saying you’re here for Rickon, not for me?"

You opened your mouth to retort, but then you stopped, your eyes flicking away for a brief moment before returning to his. "I’m here for both of you," you admitted quietly, your voice losing some of its edge. "You were reckless, Cregan. Going after those Wildlings in your condition was foolish. What were you thinking?"

He sighed, his hand moving slightly to rest against his bandaged side. "I was thinking I needed to protect the North. To protect my people."

"At the cost of your life?" you shot back, incredulous. "Your people need you alive, not bleeding out in the snow."

There was a pause, and then Cregan gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that surprised you. "You’re right," he said, his voice low and steady. "I was reckless. But it’s what I’ve always done. I’ve always put others first. The North, Winterfell, my family... I didn’t think anyone would care if something happened to me."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken things. You stared at him for a long moment, your expression softening, and for the first time, Cregan saw something shift in you. The walls you had built between you—the ice that had kept you at a distance—continues to crack, again a little more than before.

"I would care," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I may not have wanted this marriage, but I don’t want you dead."

The warmth in his chest grew, spreading through him like a fire kindling to life after a long, cold winter. He had known you were strong, had admired your spirit from the moment Jacaerys spoke of you. But now, seeing you like this—caring, vulnerable in your own way—it was more than he could have ever expected.

"I never thought you’d stay by my side like this," he said, his voice soft, his dark eyes searching your face. "But you did."

You looked away for a moment, your fingers tightening in your lap. "I stayed because I couldn’t leave you like that. No one deserves to be alone when they’re hurt, not even you."

He chuckled softly, wincing at the pain it caused. "You have a strange way of showing concern, Princess."

Your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it was laced with exasperation. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

"I’ve been told," he muttered, still smiling despite himself.

The tension between you seemed to ease then, the space between you no longer as cold and vast as it once had been. Cregan felt it—the change, subtle but undeniable. And though he knew things wouldn’t be easy, though you would likely bicker again and clash as fiercely as you had before, there was something different now.

For the first time in a long while, Cregan Stark felt something stir inside him—a warmth, a sense of hope. He didn’t know what the future would bring, but for now, he was content with the knowledge that you were here, by his side, and that perhaps, just perhaps, you cared for him more than either of you had realized.

And that was enough.

The godswood was bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, the ancient red leaves of the weirwood tree rustling in the cool breeze. Cregan walked beside you, his stride steady now, fully recovered from his near-fatal wounds. It had been months since that day when Silverwing had saved him from death's grip, and in that time, the distance between you and Cregan had shifted. You still bickered, your sharp words clashing like swords, but there was something different now. Beneath the teasing, the arguments, there was a warmth that neither of you could deny.

"I still think you're insufferably stubborn," you muttered, your arms crossed as you walked along the path beside him. "Charging into battle like a fool—next time, I won’t be sitting by your bedside."

Cregan chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your irritation flare even hotter. "Ah, but you did sit by my bedside," he said, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. "And I seem to recall you staying there for quite some time. Worrying about me, even."

You shot him a sharp glare, though it lacked the real venom it once held. "You should be thanking the gods you survived, not teasing me for caring whether you lived or died."

"I do thank the gods," he replied, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I also thank you. You stayed with me, Y/N. I haven’t forgotten that."

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt the familiar defenses you had built around yourself begin to crumble. You glanced away, your gaze falling on the gnarled roots of the weirwood tree, trying to ignore the way his words made your heart flutter.

"You’re still a fool," you mumbled, though the edge had left your voice.

Cregan stopped walking, and you felt him gently take your hand, pulling you to a halt. You turned to face him, and in the quiet of the godswood, with only the wind rustling through the leaves, you found yourself caught in his gaze—those deep, grey eyes filled with something you hadn’t allowed yourself to see before. There was no frustration, no anger—only warmth, only want.

"And you’re still the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met," he said softly, stepping closer. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine despite the cold air. "But I wouldn’t want you any other way."

You opened your mouth to retort, to say something biting, but the words never came. Instead, you found yourself closing the distance between you, your breath catching as his hand cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, and the last remnants of the ice between you began to melt.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, your lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though both of you were testing the waters. But the moment your mouths touched, the fire that had been simmering beneath your bickering flared to life. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Neither of you spoke; there were no more words left to be said. The cold air around you seemed to disappear, muted by the heat that surged between you. His lips were warm and insistent, his body pressed against yours with a need you hadn’t known you could feel.

Without breaking the kiss, Cregan’s hands moved to the ties of your cloak, loosening them with deft fingers. You tugged at his own furs, pushing them from his shoulders, and soon the cold was biting at your exposed skin, but you didn’t care. And neither did he. The warmth of your body, of your fire, was all that mattered to him now.

Your cloak fell to the ground, forgotten among the roots of the weirwood, and Cregan’s hands were on you, pulling at the fastenings of your gown. You gasped as the cold air hit your bare skin, but his hands were there to chase it away, his touch rough and gentle all at once. You tugged at his tunic, eager to feel his skin beneath your hands, and when he pulled it over his head, you marveled at the strength of him, the way his muscles rippled beneath the scars and callouses of a warrior.

Before long, the two of you were bare to the elements, the cold air forgotten as he lowered you gently to the ground. The soft moss beneath you was cool, but the fire in your veins made it bearable. Cregan’s body hovered over yours, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, but still full of the respect that had always been there beneath your bickering. "I won’t force this, Y/N."

You stared up at him, your heart racing, and for the first time, you felt no resistance. No walls, no barriers. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "I’m sure."

With that, he kissed you again, slow and deep, as his body pressed gently against yours. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, trailing down your thighs, sending sparks of heat through your entire being. When he finally entered you, it was with a slow, deliberate tenderness, his eyes never leaving yours.

The brief flash of pain as he broke your maidenhead made you wince, but he was there, soothing it with soft kisses, his hand tangled in your hair. And then, as the discomfort began to fade, the pleasure took its place, warm and insistent.

You moved against him, your body finding a rhythm as you urged him on with the softest of moans, your hands gripping his shoulders, your legs wrapping around him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his control slipping as he gave in to the fire between you, the primal, unspoken connection that had been building for months.

The cold wind whispered through the trees, but it could not reach you. The warmth of your bodies, entwined beneath the ancient weirwood, was enough to drive it away. Cregan’s movements grew more intense, his lips never straying far from yours, his hands gripping you as though he feared you might vanish.

Your moans mixed with his groans, the air between you thick with the sounds of your love-making, the passion that had been hidden behind walls of ice and words for so long. Every touch, every thrust, brought you closer to a place neither of you had been before, and when the moment came—when your bodies finally reached the peak—you clung to him, your breath ragged, your body trembling with the force of it.

He followed you over the edge moments later, his own release marked by a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the wind quieting, the godswood holding its breath as the two of you lay entwined, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Cregan didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered your name. You closed your eyes, letting the weight of the moment settle over you, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly warm.

The day was crisp and clear, the sky a bright blue canvas that stretched out endlessly above Winterfell. Silverwing, her silver scales shimmering in the afternoon sun, stood in the godswood, shifting her weight restlessly, her wings fluttering with barely-contained excitement. You stood beside her, hands on your hips, grinning as you watched Cregan approach, his expression a mix of wariness and resignation.

"You look like you're marching to your execution," you teased, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. Silverwing gave a low, eager rumble, her eyes fixed on Cregan as though she sensed his hesitation and found it endlessly amusing.

Cregan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share Silverwing’s enthusiasm—or yours, for that matter. He slowed his approach, eyes narrowing at the massive dragon before him. "I thought I was done with near-death experiences for a while," he muttered, giving you a sideways glance. "But here I am, about to climb on the back of something that could roast me alive."

You chuckled, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, don’t be such a Stark about it. Silverwing wouldn’t dream of harming you—not as long as I’m here." You flashed him a grin, though you could tell from the way his jaw tightened that he wasn’t quite convinced.

"I suppose that’s supposed to reassure me?" he asked, glancing up at Silverwing’s massive head as she tilted it curiously toward him.

"Well, it should," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "Besides, she likes you. Remember how she likes to nudge you? If a dragon doesn’t like you, trust me, you’ll know."

Cregan swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back to Silverwing’s gleaming teeth. "Comforting."

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him closer to Silverwing, whose tail flicked impatiently behind her. "Come on, brave Lord of Winterfell. It’s not every day you get to ride a dragon. You might even enjoy it."

"I highly doubt that," Cregan grumbled, though he allowed you to lead him closer.

When you reached Silverwing’s side, you placed a hand on her flank, feeling the familiar warmth of her scales beneath your palm. The dragon lowered herself slightly, making it easier for you to mount. You turned to Cregan, your smile widening at the sight of him standing there, arms crossed, clearly trying to mask his discomfort.

"Up you go," you said brightly, giving him a playful shove toward Silverwing’s side. "Ladies first."

He shot you a look that could have frozen the Wall, but with a resigned sigh, he began to clamber up the dragon’s side, his movements careful and deliberate. You followed him, slipping easily into the saddle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep both of you secure.

"You’re going to want to hold on tight," you whispered into his ear, your voice laced with mischief. "Silverwing can be...enthusiastic."

"Great," Cregan muttered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the saddle. "Just what I needed to hear."

Silverwing, sensing the shift in your posture, gave an eager roar, her wings unfurling in preparation for takeoff. The wind stirred around you, and you felt Cregan tense beneath your arms, his muscles coiled with nervous energy.

"Here we go!" you called out, laughing as Silverwing leaped into the sky with a powerful beat of her wings.

The ground fell away beneath you in an instant, the cold wind rushing past as Silverwing soared higher and higher. Cregan let out a startled curse, gripping the saddle with both hands as if his life depended on it, while you laughed, the exhilaration of flight filling you with a wild sense of freedom.

"Relax, Cregan!" you shouted over the wind, leaning into him. "You’re not going to fall!"

"I’d rather not test that theory!" he shot back, his voice strained as Silverwing dipped suddenly, her wings cutting through the air with effortless grace.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning your chin on his shoulder as the dragon steadied herself, gliding smoothly over the landscape. "See? It’s not so bad, is it?"

Cregan didn’t respond immediately, though you could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease as the flight became less of a frantic rush and more of a smooth ride. The wind was cold but invigorating, and beneath you, Silverwing hummed contentedly, clearly enjoying the chance to stretch her wings with both of you on her back.

"Alright," Cregan finally admitted, his voice quieter now, though still laced with reluctance. "Maybe it’s not as terrifying as I thought."

You grinned, tightening your arms around him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "See? I told you. You’re a natural dragonrider."

"Let’s not go that far," he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a smile.

For a while, you soared together in silence, the vast expanse of the North stretching out beneath you—white fields, dark forests, and the distant peaks of mountains all bathed in the pale winter light. Cregan relaxed more with each passing moment, his breath steadying, though he still gripped the saddle firmly. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your touch, but it wasn’t the frantic rhythm of fear anymore. It was something else—something closer to excitement.

After a while, you guided Silverwing back toward Winterfell, and as the dragon swooped low over the godswood once more, you couldn’t help but tease him again. "I think you might have even enjoyed that a little."

Cregan shook his head, though there was a faint laugh in his voice. "Enjoyed? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Princess. I’m still deciding if I’ll ever do this again."

You smirked as Silverwing touched down with a graceful thud, her wings folding as she lowered herself to the ground. You dismounted easily, then turned to help Cregan down, though he shot you a look as if to say he didn’t need the help.

"I’ll give you credit for bravery," you said, watching as he finally stood on solid ground again. "You didn’t scream once."

"That’s because I was too busy clinging for dear life," Cregan muttered, though his lips quirked in a smile. "But I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s something."

You laughed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "You did well. Maybe you’re more suited for the sky than you thought."

He looked down at you, his expression softening as he rested his hand over yours. "Maybe. But for now, I think I’ll leave the flying to you."

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Suit yourself. But you’re always welcome to join me."

Cregan chuckled, pulling you closer. "We’ll see about that. But if Silverwing’s happy, I suppose I’ll consider it."

Silverwing let out a soft, approving rumble behind you, and you couldn’t help but smile. "I think she likes having you around."

"Gods help me," Cregan muttered, though there was warmth in his eyes that told you he didn’t really mind.

And as the two of you stood there, with Silverwing watching over you, the cold air seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your shared laughter and the fire you had ignited between you.

[foone]

Ok so I've done some cursory looking over hdg and it seems like it would like, 99% be my thing except for the caked in assumptions regarding consent.

If benevolent plant beings showed up from space and said "We're here to free you from capitalism and also do some weird kink stuff with you if you're into that" I would not need to be mindbroken about it. I would be like "Can you maybe also do some weird body horror stuff to me please" and they'd be like "Yeah and we're also gonna keep you as a pet" and I'd say "Yippee!"

If there's like, a bunch of stories about enthusiastic consent in the setting it would become my favorite thing I think, but im not seeing any reference to stories like that so far in my research.

No, I don't know if there's any specific stories like that. There must be a couple (there's nearly 1000 stories on AO3 alone!), but I've not seen them. Any other HDG readers can recommend any?

But yeah. HDG is firmly in a dubcon hypnosis era: it's usually about subs going "no I don't want this!" and they eventually get convinced (possibly with mind control! ) that they're actually denying their feelings and they DO want this.

I can totally see why that kind of consent situation wouldn't be for everyone! But it's a bit baked into the setting, so I don't know how much HDG you'll he able to find that doesn't have it.

Best of luck, and I totally understand if you just don't enjoy HDG because of the consent issues. It's not for everyone.

For what it's worth, while I personally don't have a problem with reading the dubcon, it is a bit annoying to me, as someone who would similarly just dive into being a plant-mommy's pet. An HDG protagonist will be all "damn you freaky xenos! Stop trying to give me the body I always wanted and fixing everything about my life and trying to give me sexy plant cuddles with fun drugs!"

And I'm like... Sis, stop complaining. Embrace being a pet and enjoy. This is everything I wanted.

(I hope I don't get evicted from the HDG fandom for my heresy)

[adrienneleclerc]

Heyy can you write a onsehot of charles being really really really clingy to the reader ,like wanting cuddels kisses

YES!!!!! I don’t think I ever wrote Charles in a clingy way so it’ll be fun to try!

Attached at The Hip

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina reader

Summary: Charles has a break between races and decides to spend it with his girlfriend. However, his girlfriend is not paying attention to him.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: sorry it’s been a while since I have posted anything, I went to California as my graduation gift. Thank you for your request! I am so happy you like my writing enough to request a oneshot! If I haven’t gotten to your request yet, I AM WORKING ON IT, te lo juro por las haditas.

Charles had a 3 week break between races and what better way to spend this break than with his lovely girlfriend? When Charles came back Tuesday afternoon, he cuddled with his girlfriend, they watched a movie together, he gave her many kisses because he missed her so much. However, Wednesday morning Charles woke up without Y/N by his side and with the smell of baked goods. Charles walked into the kitchen and saw Y/N with her cupcake apron, frosting one batch of cupcakes, pulling another batch out of the oven, and putting another batch in the oven.

“Mon ange, it’s 7 am, what are you doing baking?” Charles asked.

“I received an order for cupcakes, muñeco. It’s a birthday party so I’m making cupcakes for the children and for the adults. I made margarita cupcakes for the adults and s’mores cupcakes for the children. I obviously wanted the cupcakes to be fresh, the party starts at 1, that also gives me time to deliver these.” Y/N said, showing Charles the tray of macarons that were made yesterday before he came over. “I spent the entire morning frosting them. If you can take the cupcakes out of the oven when the timer rings, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“I thought we were going to spend the day together.” Charles pouted, getting closer to hug Y/N but she walked away from his hug.

“Muñeco, i would love to cuddle you, but I have to deliver these to the café before they open.” Y/N packed the macarons in boxes very carefully and left the apartment, leaving a very sad Charles. When the timer dinged, he took out the cupcakes using Y/N’s oven mitts and placed them on top of the stove, turning off the oven. Y/N got back with bags of groceries for her apartment and her business.

“Ma Belle, are you still going to bake?” Charles asked.

“Charles, i supply macarons everyday for a café plus personal orders. I’m a busy girl, muñeco.” Y/N responded, Charles hugged her from behind.

“Can’t you take a break, please.” Charles whispered in her ear, kissing her neck as well.

“Muñeco…” Y/N whines

“I haven’t gotten any attention today.” Charles whined

“Let me frost the cupcakes and I’ll give you all the attention you want. Until 12 that is, then I’ll have to deliver these cupcakes.” Y/N said.

“I’ll take it.” Charles pulled away from Y/N, kissing her and letting her do a baker’s job. As soon as she finished frosting the cupcakes, she laid down with Charles and he was very happy with her in his arms. They watched the Spanish TV show “Ni Una Más” with English subtitles for Charles when Y/N’s phone rings, it was the mom who was throwing the birthday party.

“Hello, yes the cupcakes are ready, I’ll be over there in a few. S’mores cupcakes for the kids and margarita cupcakes for you guys, alright, bye.” Y/N hung up the phone. “Muñeco, I gotta go.” Y/N tried to get up but Charles held her tighter.

“No, please stay.” Charles begged against her neck.

“Muñeco, this is how I make my rent, I have to drop off the cupcakes.” Y/N said, getting up successfully and putting the cupcakes in their respective containers. Charles got up as well.

“At least let me drive you.” Charles said.

“Nope, you’re staying here like a good boy, okay.” Y/N said, opening the apartment door with cupcake boxes in hand. “Stay…good boy.” Y/N left the apartment, leaving Charles again.

After Y/N was paid 200 euros for the cupcakes since they are flavors that not everyone else makes, she went back to her apartment and found Charles on the couch.

“Finally, you’re home! Let’s spend some time together, yes? We should go out on the yacht.” Charles said, “or we could stay in bed,” Charles hugged Y/N from behind.

“You’re so clingy. But you’re adorable, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles silently cheers and grabs Y/N’s hand to lead her into her bedroom so they could watch TV and rot in bed together.

The End

I hope you like it, I don’t know how to write “clingy” because I have a fearful avoidant attachment style so I don’t know what “clingy” typically looks like but I hope it’s acceptable

[lexawoah13]

I Want You

Soobin x afab reader

Synopsis: being the Halloween lover that you are you ask Soobin to dress up with you as your favourite anime couple. However after he avoids you for two weeks and forgets to dress up with you, Yeonjun steps in to make the both of you see how much you both want each other. Which results is his best friend becoming jealous and angry when anyone goes near you.

Warnings: jealously, anger, slut shaming(only slightly), lingering touches and gazes, oral, nipple play, unprotected sex (don’t do that, wrap it up, be safe), degrading talk, costume (it’s Halloween duh)

Features Soobin (of course), Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai plus a special appearance from Heesung and Sunghoon from Enhyphen.

Also if you don’t know My Dress Up Darling give it a quick search just to get an idea of what Marin looks like.

Likes, comments and reposts are always appreciated ❤️ you are all the best and I love you all so much!

My asks are always open and so is my tag list! ✌️

Enjoy

Halloween is your favourite time of the year. You embraced every second of it and lived for spooky season. You decorate your entire apartment, you bake fall and Halloween treats, you watch all of your favourite Halloween movies and of course you dress up on the big day.

Even though it wasn’t so popular in Korea, you didn’t miss out. Making the people around you celebrate with you. Including the members of Tomorrow x Together, who you work for but are also your good friends. In particular, Choi Soobin, your best friend who you essentially spend all of your free time with.

So when Soobin agreed to dress up with you this year you couldn’t be more excited. Your best friend (your incredibly sweet, nerdy and sexy best friend who you wanted to climb) agreed to be the Wakana Gojou to your Marin Kitagawa. You both love watching My Dress Up Darling together so the couple's costumes were perfect.

You picked out the perfect costume, thanks to Yeonjun’s help, adding your own little twist on Marin’s classic High School uniform, wanting Soobin to notice you.

However, after showing him the costumes, Soobin became distant. You weren’t sure why, everything seemed fine until now, chalking it up to stress for the upcoming release.

But Soobin wasn’t stressed about the comeback. He was freaking out about you in that uniform and having to be around you in it. Because like you, Soobin also wanted you. This exact scenario has played out in his head a couple of times, ending with you being bent over a desk as he fucks your brains out. So, how in the fuck is he supposed to be around you all day dressed in the same uniform and not pop a massive hard on.

Being the idiots you both are, you had no idea that the other felt the same way about you. On the other hand, everyone else did, much to their dismay at how stupidity you both truly were.

Halloween comes, and Soobin still hasn’t been answering your texts or calls, you get extremely irritated.

“If he didn’t want to do it he could have just said so instead of ignoring me!” You complain to Yeonjun

“He wanted to do it, I know that. I Dunno what’s going on with him y/n I’m sorry”

“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything. I just don’t know what I did to make he act this way”

“I don’t think you did anything” Yeonjun says reassuring you, knowing exactly what’s going on with his best friend. “I think it’s just the comeback. We’re all kinda stressed, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I just wish he would talk to me instead of cutting me off” you say solemnly

“Hey, forget Soobin! Dress up and have fun all day like you had planned! If he bails on everything, I’ll be you Halloween date” he nudges your arm and wiggles his eyebrows

Unable to resist, you smile and laugh lightly at his antics “you’re on Choi! If you ditch me though, I’m moving back to *your country*”

“I would never!” He says, holding his hand to his chest as if your words caused him serious pain.

“I know. You’re the best Junnie” you hug him

“Anything for my best girl” hugging you back and kissing your head

“So should I still dress up as Marin?”

“Yes! Just make her sexier, make Soobin regret ditching you”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Oh it will, trust me”

“Okay? So, any suggestions?”

Bringing his hand to his chin in thought, Yeonjun smirks “I have an idea”

While you are lost in the discussion of your upgraded costume with Yeonjun, you’re completely unaware that Soobin had been watching your whole conversation from right outside the room. Jealousy seething through him as he watches you laugh and talk to Yeonjun. Seeing you hug him and Yeonjun kiss the top of your head was what really got to him though. That was your thing.

Yeonjun however had known Soobin was there the whole time, his plan working out perfectly. Soobin was jealous, and you were going to look like walking sex tomorrow. If the both of you don’t end up together after tomorrow, then there’s no hope.

The next day, you walk into Hybe in full costume. Adding Yeonjun’s suggestions, tying your shirt around your waist, turning it into a crop top, hiking your skirt up a little higher to reveal just the curve of your ass, and the white thigh high socks and black converse paired with Marin’s pink contact lenses. Nothing too drastic, but enough to make it sexy.

Yeonjun was already there, wanting to give you a pep talk before Soobin arrived. They were having a photo shoot today, which was another reason for the easy costume. It didn’t require any makeup besides Gojou’s mole under his eye. That is if he even remembered to dress up…

When you enter the room Yeonjun grabs your hand raising it above your head “y/n! Fuck you look good! Give me a spin”

While you spin, Beomgyu and Taehyun enter.

Beomgyu whistles and Taehyun compliments you as well “you look great”

“Great? Fuck if she wasn’t so into Soobin I’d make a move right now!” Beomgyu compliments “you look sexy y/n. And if he doesn’t take you, I will” he winks

“Yeah, you’d have to go through me first” Yeonjun adds in

“Thanks you guys but stop, you don’t have to do that”

“Do what? I’m dead serious” Beomgyu insists, Yeonjun nodding in agreement

“You guys are ridiculous” you laugh at them

Kai walks in and sees your costume instantly recognizing it “Marin!? Y/N you look amazing! I like the additions”

“Thanks Kai!”

“So that just leaves Soobin…”

“I swear to god this man.. if he doesn’t finally fess-“ Beomgyu starts but Taehyun quickly covers his mouth

“Shut up!” He angrily whispers “that’s for him to tell her, not you!”

“True, doesn’t make it any less frustrating though. Soobin is dense as hell sometimes” Yeonjun adds

“I'm gonna start setting up so we don’t run behind! You guys feel free to do whatever!” You say to them while you set up your station at the vanity. They all head to the couch and relax. It was still 5am after all and they were working themselves to the bone.

They sit on their phones and some shut their eyes. Yeonjun notices the time and Soobin should already be here. “Anyone hear from Bin?”

“Nope” terry responds “he’s late”

“I’ll text him” Yeonjun opens their conversation which was already spammed with worried messages from the last week and a half

‘SOOBIN!

Where the fuck are you?’

‘I can’t come’

‘The fuck?’

‘I’m sorry hyung i can't’

Yeonjun mutters under his breath “this mother fucker” dailing his number

“Listen-“ Soobin answers

“NO YOU LISTEN!” Yeonjun whisper yells at him hoping you don’t hear him. “Get your sorry ass down here now before I beat the living shit out of you. I’ll bring Taehyun” threatening his leader

“Hyung you don’t understand!”

“I DO UNDERSTAND! FUCK! I’ve been sitting here looking at her and yeah I get it, it’s really hard to not wanna fuck her, not gonna lie. But Soobin I swear to god if you don’t get your ass here in the next five minutes she’s fair game!”

“Hyung n-“ Yeonjun hangs up on him

“You serious?” Beomgyu asks

“No, but he’ll be here. Speaking of, let's give him a little push, hey?”

Mischievous smirks take over Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s faces, Taehyun looking kinda scared while Kai has no idea as he peacefully sleeps.

Moments later you walk over to the 4 men on the couch, “we should probably start getting you ready. Who wants to go first?” you ask,

“I’ll go first” Taehyun pops up

“Okay come over when you're ready” you smile at him before going back to your station, gathering the products you need for him.

“Okay Tae, you’re setting the pace, make sure when he comes in your-”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll be lightly flirting. This feels wrong”

“Just turn on your big boba eyes and smile at her, that's enough to set him off”

Taehyun’s eyes widen before he turns and walks over to your station, sitting down and turning on his charm. Bright smile and big eyes looking at you with full attention, not even bothering to look at the door when he hears it open. Laughing and talking to you trying to keep your eyes from looking at Soobin to begin their plan. He’s mostly successful, you only turn to look at him for a split second, confirming it was him walking through the doors and then turning your attention back to Tae. You were mad at Soobin after all, he’s been ignoring you for weeks and you don’t even know why. What really ticks you off though, is that he didn’t end up wearing the costume after all. Confirming to you that your best friend really didn’t care about you in the way you had hoped for, and maybe not at all. So wanting to show him you were unbothered, you continued feeding into Taehyun’s weird flirty behaviour and flirted back. Leaning in a little closer than usual, laughing a little too much, hoping Soobin would notice and see you were completely unbothered.

Yeonjun leans over to Beomgyu to whisper in his ear before Soobin makes it to the couches, paused in his walk over staring at you and Taehyun flirting with each other. “You text Heesung?”

And Beomgyu nods “he bringing anyone?”

“Yep, Sunghoon.”

“Perfect” Yeonjun sits back, smiling that his plan is coming to fruition. Chirping out to Soobin to bring him over “you’re late”

Soobin looks over his shoulder at him, then back at you, then at Yeonjun before making his way to the couch, looking at you over his shoulder the whole time.

“What is Taehyun doing?” he asks concerned

“What do you mean?” Kai asks, he was quickly filled in on the plan. Now playing along with his role.

“He’s, I donno... He’s flirting with Y/N”

“How? He seems normal to me..” Beomgyu taunts

“No he definitely is. He’s using his full endearing charm on her right now. Look, I don't think his eyes could get any bigger and he won’t even blink. The fuck is going on I didn’t even think he thought of her like that?” Soobin’s tone increased in anger as he analysed you two.

“I think you’re overreacting Soob” Kai says “He’s just being himself.”

“Pft. yeah. Right. Sure.” he huffs and plops down on the couch next to Yeonjun, folding his arms and pouting

“If you would have told her how you felt already this wouldn’t be happening right now.” Yeonjun teases.

Soobin shoots him a look of disgust because he knows he’s right. He then returns his sights to you, noticing Taehyun holding you by your hand and lingering his fingers on yours, before coming over to sit down with his members. “Huning she’s ready for you” he says before sitting down next to him.

“Thanks Hyung” Kai smiles and basically skips over to you, giving you a huge hug, lifting you up and making you laugh “Kai stop!”

Soobin immediately scowls and turns to Taehyun, asking “what the fuck was that?”

“Hi to you too Soobin. What are you talking about?” He asks with just as much bite

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. What was that with Y/N?”

“Nothing? We were talking and stuff like we usually do..?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit you had your cute, and charming Taehyun act on with your big ass eyes and smile.” Soobin is seething, and Beomgyu and Yeonjun can’t help but smirk at how well this was working already, knowing it’s only gonna get worse.

“Soobin, you need to chill. You’re being paranoid. I wasn’t doing shit. You’re just jealous because she looks incredible right now, and you haven’t done anything about it yet.” Taehyun spits the facts at him, looking dead into his eyes before sitting back and crossing his arms knowing he won that argument. Even if Soobin was right and he was flirting with you.

Soobin can only sulk in annoyance at the truth. Looking over he sees you and Kai laughing about god knows what. But you were always like that with him. Maybe he was just over reacting. Starting to settle down a bit, the door shoots open revealing two people he definitely didn’t want seeing you in that outfit.

“Heesung, Sunghoon, what's up!?” Beomgyu calls out.

You and Kai both look at them, you smile and wave at them to greet them “hey!”

Just as Beomgyu asked them to, the Enhyphen members totally ignore them sitting on the couch, and walk directly over to you, even ignoring Kai.

Heesung leans against the vanity enclosing you between the chair, Sunghoon and himself. Putting on his best seductive face and says “Hi Y/N. You look nice all dressed up today”

You laugh at him and tuck a loose hair behind your ear acting shy “Really? You think so Hee?”

“Mmhmm. You look real good”

“Yeah you look incredible y/n” Sunghoon says, running his hand along your arm before you enclose him in a hug

“Thanks Hoonie”

You and Sunghoon were actually friends outside of work, much to Soobin’s dismay. Park Sunghoon was prince level gorgeous and Soobin knew that. He was always jealous of Sunghoon because he knew if Sunghoon asked, you would be his and honestly Soobin couldn’t blame you. If Sunghoon asked Soobin to date him, he’s pretty sure even he would say yes. So when you oh so happily hug him as his hands drift lower and lower down your back, squeezing you in tight, Soobin’s knuckles turn white from how tight he’s clenching his fists.

“Hoonie?” He asks in disgust “Thanks Hoonie” mimicking your voice under his breath

“Hmm? What was that?” Yeonjun asks hearing fully what he said

“nothing“ Soobin huffs, his legs shaking up and down fastly in annoyance.

“Sure” Yeonjun teases before he stands up and walks over to their visitors, Beomgyu and Taehyun right behind him. “Can’t be rude”

“Tcht” Soobin scoffed again, reluctantly standing up. Beomgyu and Yeonjun subtly fist bumping.

Soobin just watches in disgust as Heesung and Sunghoon’s eyes never leave you. Scanning your body up and down when you're not looking, then looking oh so intently at your eyes and lips when you were talking to them. Soobin has indents from his nails in his palms from trying to hold back his anger. Everyone’s circled around you while you work, taking in and ogling your body as you slightly bend over to attend to Kai’s makeup. Bending over causes your skirt to rise even more, revealing the curve of your ass. Soobin wants to just carry you away and hide you from everyone's sight. Keeping you all to himself

“Alright Kai you’re all done my sweet”

“Thanks y/n”

“Who’s next?” You ask turning around and smiling, bumping into Yeonjun who’s right there

“Me” he says, keeping eye contact while you both turn around until he’s sitting in the chair.

“I was gonna ask for a turn” Heesung laughs

“And what could I ever do with your pretty face Hee?” You tease, grabbing his chin and shaking his head slightly, making him blush unexpectedly.

“Maybe we should request you for our next shoot, you are are really good Y/N” Sunghoon

“Yes, you totally should! I’d love to work with you guys at least once!” You excitedly respond

“Awesome I’ll tell our manager to request you then!”

“Hey hey hey! No one said you could steal our makeup artist. She’s ours!” Beomgyu pipes up

“Hey she said she would so maybe she needs a new group that will treat her right” Sunghoon winks, taking your hand and kissing it

“Oh my god Hoon stop” you giggle ”My txt boys treat me just right thank you. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t work with you though” blowing him a smooch of appreciation

“Say the word pretty and we will take you in a heartbeat”

The flirting with Sunghoon has become too much and Soobin has to leave the room before he punches his stupidly pretty perfect face in.

“Hey! Where are you going Hyung?” Kai asks noticing him leave

“To piss” he snaps back. His tone not being missed by anyone, Kai follows after him

“Hyung!” Kai has to run to catch up to him “Soobin wait up!”

Soobin turns and snaps at him “what do you want?!”

“Woah what is wrong with you? I’m just checking on you”

Soobin feels bad and releases a loud exhale “it’s just… Ughh fuck everyone is all over y/n and I’m gonna punch someone” rubbing his hands down his face

“So doesn’t that tell you everything? Just tell her how you feel! God Soobin, if you’re that jealous of everyone around her you clearly love her. Tell her before she goes with someone else” Kai states sincerely

“But-“

“But what? You don’t think she likes you back? Soobin.. UGHH-“ Kai says in annoyance “for fucks sake she’s literally dressed as Marin Kitagawa right now. Why do you think that is?”

“Did you just curse?”

“Yeah I curse when I’m extremely frustrated FOCUS!”

“Cause she like My Dress Up Darling” he says completely clueless

Throwing his arms up and head back, Kai almost screams, holding it in with tight lips.

“Hyung you have to be the densest person I know” patting him on his shoulder before he turns to walk back to the room.

“The hell does that mean?”

Exhaling deeply, Kai turns back to him “if you think she likes that anime just because it’s “good”, you truly are an idiot. She likes it so much ‘cause she watches it with you. And how similar you both are to Marin and Gojou.”

“What are you talking about?” Soobin asks literally having no idea what Kai is talking about.

“Figure it out your fucking self!” Waking away

Soobin is left alone, thinking over what Kai said. Not piecing any of it together. Sure Gojou likes Marin and he likes you but… making the most literal assumption about the characters, he can only think he doesn’t make clothes and you don’t cosplay. Not thinking that you could ever like him the way Marin likes Gojou.

He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face trying to cool his temper. Taking deep breaths the whole way back before he enters, and sees Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Heesung and Sunghoon closely huddled around you. Yeonjun leaning forward gliding his fingers up and down your exposed thighs to the hem of your skirt.

Immediately returning to his enraged, jealous self as you look over to him with not a bit of emotion on your face. Only to return to Yeonjun with the largest smile on your face at something he said, applying something to his lips.

Sunghoon places his hand low on your back as he pretends to lean in to observe your work.

“Kay Junnie you’re all done! Beomgyu your turn”

“Hey y/n can you give me some of that too?” Heesung asks, moving a piece of hair from your shoulder, twirling it around his finger.

“What? The lip balm? You literally have it”

“Yeah but I don’t have it on me and my lips are feeling dry” he playfully pouts

“Yeah, mine too, would you mind? Please?” Sunghoon asks sweetly

“Umm.. yeah sure” you grab your lip applicators and turn to Heesung, who’s sitting on the vanity to come to your height. Parting his lips, looking into your pink coloured eyes with his seductive gaze. Honestly making you lose your breath for a minute. You apply the balm to his lips making them even plumper and more enticing than before. You turn to sunghoon “Hoon can you come a bit lower? I can’t really reach”

“No worries pretty, I got you” grabbing your waist to steady you as you raise up on your tiptoes to reach his plump lips. Gazing into his eyes once again hitching your breath. These men were doing something to your head and you were starting to lose your composure. diverting your eyes back to his lips, you swipe the last of the balm on his lips. Sunghoon rubs them together before smiling his pointy canine smile simply saying “thanks pretty” lowering you to be flat on your feet.

“N-no problem” you stutter and turn to Beomgyu “ready Gyu?”

“Never been more ready y/n” smiling while gazing into your eyes

“Oookaayy?” You draw out the word. Wondering what is going on.

Yeonjun leans in on the side opposite of Soobin staring at you, making sure he would see, and whispers in your ear sensing your confusion “just go with it” looking at him with confusion he winks at you, and you just nod.

You move to start applying makeup to Beomgyu’s face, but Heesung cuts in “Hey, we’re gonna head out. Our schedule starts soon.”

“Oh already? It was great to see you, Hee!” you give him a hug and he squeezes you tightly around your waist, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Great to see you to Y/N! I’m serious about you working with us though”

“Then make it happen” you wink, turning to Sunghoon “Bye Hoonie, it was so good to see you” giving him a hug as well, but Sunghoon lifts you off the ground spinning while he holds you tight. Lifting you above his face saying “Good to see you too, Pretty. Let's hang out soon, yeah?” smiling as he lowers you back to the ground.

“Yeah, that would be great! I miss you”

“I miss you to y/n. Catch up over dinner?”

“Deal” you smile. Your hand lingers in his and Sunghoon brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it before letting go and turning to walk away.

“Later guys!”

“See you on league later?” Beomgyu asks

“Definitely! Later” Heesung raises his hand in a goodbye before walking past Soobin, bumping into his shoulder.

Sunghoon walks right behind him, and looks at Soobin before letting out a small chuckle, seeing the rage on his face.

You return to your job, and begin on Gyu. Laughing and talking the whole time as usual. But knowing how angry Soobin is you start to get concerned as you watch him storm over to the drink table.

“What is going on with him?” You whisper, asking Beomgyu.

Leaning forward, he whispers “Donno, but he’ll get over it” he begins to run his fingers along the top of your thigh high socks, dipping his fingers just underneath, nestled between your skin and sock. Gently gliding across your skin as he continues his mindless act. This wasn’t anything new for Beomgyu. He tends to mindlessly do this to everyone who has some sort of exposed skin but, you can tell something is different from the way he is looking at you. But trusting Yeonjun you just go with it, knowing they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.

As Soobin walks past you he stops dead in his tracks, watching Beomgyu’s hands ghost over your exposed thighs. You could practically see the steam coming from his ears.

The other three men on the couch started to get concerned, with Kai asking “you guys sure this is okay? He might murder Beomgyu”

“I’ve never seen Soobin look so angry,” Taehyun added. That is until Beomgyu looks over at Soobin while you grab a product from the table and gives him Soobin a shit eating grin.

“I take that back! Now I’ve never seen him look so angry” Kai stands up to pull Soobin to the couch “hyung, breathe.”

“I’ll breathe after I fucking kill him” Soobin seethes

“No you won’t! Just calm down”

“Calm down?! Calm down? Are you serious right now? I’ve been watching the fucking lot of you touch and flirt with her all day! You’re all lucky I haven’t snapped yet! But now, now he dies” he starts move but Taehyun grabs him and shoves him onto the couch

“Calm down” Taehyun demands as he holds Soobin on the couch.

“Fuck off and let me go”

“No you need to calm down”

“Like fuck”

“You’re gonna scare her so calm down!”

“What’s going on!?” You cut them off, concern evident in your voice

Soobin instantly freezes enough for Taehyun to let go of him.

Yeonjun speaks up “nothing! Soobin is just a little… sensitive today”

“Everyone nods except Soobin who can’t take his eyes off of you. Jealousy and anger are still very present inside him.

”okay… well I’m ready for you Soobin”

“Everyone out” Soobin calmly demands

“What?” Yeonjun asks

“EVERYONE OUT!” The leader yells, shocking everyone “NOW!”

They all stand to leave but not before telling you they won’t be far if you need them. Questioning if they pushed him too far.

“Woah Soobin, what’s up?”

“What’s up?” He laughs manically “what’s up!? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Seriously, what is going on with you right now?”

He stands up leaving no room between your bodies, looking down at you “you! You and everyone all over you. This is what you wanted right? everyone’s attention? Wearing this fucking excuse for a costume, you’re basically asking for it.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” You raise your voice at him, livid at his accusations, taking a step backwards.

“Oh like you don’t fucking know. Hiking up your skirt, leaving your buttons undone, and adding those fucking thigh high socks. It’s a far cry from Marin’s uniform! Looks like you clearly after something” spitting his words at you in anger he tried to get closer but you continue to step backwards until you hit the wall behind you. Caging you in, he raises his arms to rest on either side of your head.

“Choi Soobin I know you’re not slut shaming me right now over a fucking costume!” You yell

“Damn right I am y/n! What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you Soobin!? what I do is none of your business! Besides you haven’t even talked to me in the last two weeks!”

“I’m your fucking friend and I’m trying to look out for you!”

“No your just jealous because other people noticed me and had enough balls to actually make a move”

“I know what they’re like Y/N they’d just use you for their fun and then everything would be fucking ruined”

“WHAT IF I WANT TO BE USED SOOBIN? HUH? Ever think of that? Ever think I wanna be fucked?”

“GO FUCK THEM THEN!”

“You’re actually ridiculous you know that” scoffing at him

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean y/n?”

“Since you think you know everything I actually wore this for YOU. I thought I’d try to make you fucking notice me for once. We were actually supposed to dress up as Marin and Gojou together, but you forgot about that! I wanted to dress up together so maybe once you would actually see me as more than your friend. Someone you’d like to fuck. So no Soobin I didn’t do this to randomly fuck someone or for anyone else to notice me. I WANTED YOU!” Anger and hurt flow through your words at everything he’s just said to you, slamming your hands into his chest.

Soobin freezes, staring at you in shock as all the anger starts to fade. His voice barely audible as he asks “what?”

You just stare back at him, your eyes darting between his as you try to gauge what he’s thinking right now. “I want you to notice me. I want you Soobin” almost on the verge of tears but calmly telling him how you feel.

Soobin’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes are wide, as his mouth hangs open. His brain runs blank of words to say. Just repeating your last words over and over again. Silence hanging between you for too long and you waver.

“I get it, you don’t see me that way. I just thought I’d just take a chance… forget what just happened and that I said anything. Sit down, I have to do your makeup” you side step under one of his arms, removing yourself from the cage his arms enclosed you in. Walking to your makeup station, grabbing your brush belt and getting the products for his application. Busying yourself to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

He stands there. Still and not moving, leaning against the wall, just stuck in a loop repeating the words you said over and over. But the longer he stands there the harder your words hit him. He finally knows you want him the way he wants you.

“Soobin! Please just forget everything and let me do this. You’re gonna be late” continuing to organize the things you will need.

Making up his mind, Soobin turns, and takes long strides toward you.

“Soobin please-“ as you turn around he crashes his lips into yours cradling you face in his hands

“Soobin- what- stop” you make out between kisses

“Shut up” he demands, picking you up by your plush thighs, walking to the mirror and sitting you on the desk. Not once stopping his attack. His hands roam your thighs and hips, squeezing and caressing as he pleases.

Migrating his kissing down your neck, needing to taste more of you.

“Soob- what.. mmhmm- what are you doing?” barely making out the words as your brain fogs with desire.

“Noticing you, like I have been since I fucking met you” he quickly says before attaching back onto your neck.

“Wha-“

Groaning, he grips your hair at the base of your neck, tugging back to make you look up into his eyes, “I noticed you. I notice you the second our eyes lock, and everytime you’re remotely near me. I’ve always wanted you Y/N. That's never been a question” Soobin states, eyes locked on yours leaving no room for doubt.

“Well you’ve never shown it!” you snap, angry again because how has he been able to hide this from you for so long.

“I didn’t think you wanted me. I’m not going to pressure you into doing something you don’t want. Especially if it meant losing you and not having you at all.”

“Soobin I-”

“I’ve always wanted you Y/N” he cuts you off and pushes his hips into yours. Showing you how much he means it, grinding his hardened cock against your soaked core. Both of you are panting heavy trying to catch your breath, looking at one another, darting between your eyes and lips.

You breathlessly whisper “then take me”

Soobin lips crash back onto yours before the final syllable leaves them. The kiss is heated, messy, and all over the place. Teeth clash as your tongues fight for dominance. Months of built up sexual tension between you two, finally being released in the most heated way possible. Both wanting more as your hands roam each other’s bodies, pulling on the fabric covering your skin, needing as much contact as possible.

Soobin makes quick work of your shirt, untying the bottom and ripping open the only button you had fastened, eliciting a shocked gasp from you.

Chuckling he says “you’ll be fine, you barely had it on anyways” kissing your collarbone

“That a problem for you?”

“Only when others can see you” Biting your skin to punctuate his statement. Leaving a purple mark in its place.

“Jealous are we?” You taunt

Coming back to eye level he states “I don’t like people touching what's mine”

“And I’m yours?” you slyly question

“You are now” he says, pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts, groping them with his large palms. “You’re mine Y/N” pinching your nipples when he says your name, claiming your lips with his. You start grabbing at his clothes, pulling his loosely tucked shirt out of his pants, sliding your hands underneath to feel his skin. Running your hands along his abs and slim waist isn’t enough for youz, “off” “off now” you whimper during the short break of kissing. But he doesn’t hear you, continuing to kiss you roughly. Pushing him back off of you, seeing the hunger in each other's eyes you command him “take off your shirt”. The fabric is pulled over his head and on the floor in a split second, and he tries to resume his previous work. But you stop him, holding out your hand to his chest. “Lemme see you”

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, but it’s different. Watching his chest rise and fall quickly, the light sheen of sweat coating his skin. His abs flex as he tries to control himself, allowing you to see what you want. As you admire him you reach around your back, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it at him. Leaning back, you tilt your head and bite your lower lip, beckoning him to come to you as you curl your index finger in.

“Fuck you’re so hot” pouncing back on you as fast as he can. Hands enveloping your bare chest, as his lips attach to your neck, wanting to cover you in marks. Your fingers tangle in his hair as your head falls back, your moans and whimpers leading him further and further down your torso, a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses left in his wake. One he meets your navel, he looks up at you, giving your approval with a slight nod. His palms ride up your thighs until he reaches your skirt, flipping it up to show your soaked core. Your white panties basically see through from your slick, clinging to your folds.

“Oh fuck you’re soaked baby. Need to taste.." His words trail off as he leans in and firmly glides his tongue over your heat through your panties. A low groan sounds from deep in his chest, savouring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. Pushing the tip of his tongue against your folds, running it up and down excruciatingly slowly. You’re saccharine moans fueling him to tease you even more, slowly driving you crazy.

“Soonin please” you plead

“Hmmm?” he hums against your still covered core, the slight vibration ringing through your clit that he’s currently attending to.

“More please bin! Please” you plead again, irritation starting to build inside you. It felt good but you wanted more, you wanted to feel his tongue on you.

He ignores you, content where he is. Building speed but still over your drenched garment.

You still call to him, wanting more from him “Bin.” “Bin please” “more” “fuck Soobin” “SOOBIN!”

Irritation runs hot through your body, needing to punish him for his neglect and his actions earlier. He wants to be a brat, so be it.

You glide your fingers through his hair on the top of his head, starting soft and almost petting him leaving no room to suspect anything from you. When you feel he’s relaxed enough, you grip his hair harshly, pulling a loud hiss from him, and pull him off you.

“What the fuck?” he barks at you

“You don’t listen” scolding him while still pulling his hair firmly, knowing it hurts. “If you listened I'd be coming on your face right now, but you had to be a greedy brat.” You push your panties to the side with your free hand and start circling your clit while his face is mere inches away. Eyes glued to your fingers while you please yourself “‘m sorry, please let go baby, please” weakly begging without ever looking at your face

“I don’t think so” bringing his face closer but just out of reach of his tongue being able to touch you. “That's a pathetic excuse for an apology” you glide your fingers down and plunge your middle and ring fingers inside your pulsing hole. Sinfully moaning at how good it feels. Taking them out you show him how wet they are “see Binnie. Could have been you instead but, you had to be a greedy brat” returning to rub your clit in front of him.

Whining he apologizes again “oh fuck, Y/N i’m so sorry, let me taste you again. Please!”

“Hmmm, i donno.. I feel pretty good right now, maybe I don't need you” moaning as you speed up your fingers.

“PLEASE Y/N! Won't do it again please! Wanna make you cum.” his eyes finally come up to yours and they’re watering as if he might actually cry if he watches you cum by yourself and not because of him. Without uttering a word you pull his hair crashing his face back into your cunt. The most beautiful moan rips from Soobin’s chest when he tastes your bare skin. His tongue immediately finding your clit, wanting to make you cum. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, giving even more access to you and slides your panties off “these need to go” he exhales, still captivated by your bare pussy in front of him. Quickly returning to your heat, his tongue prods at your dripping opening, devouring every last drop he can find before plunging the muscle in. Your grip tightens on his hair, pulling him in even more, moaning as he finally gives you what you want.

“Good boy Binnie” you praise, unknowing what that would do to him. Soobin’s eyes roll into the back of his head, his deep groans sending pleasure through you as his tongue is still inside you. His already hard cock gets even harder, twitching against his pants, begging to be freed. Soobin replaces his tongue with three long fingers, finding the perfect rhythm against your spongy spot while deliciously stretching you. His mouth attached to your clit, sucking the sensitive nub relentlessly. Wanting to hear those words come from your mouth again he’s willing to do anything.

Your words are almost incoherent through you moaning “Oh fuck Bin! So good-” “oh fuck don’t stop” and he has no intention of stopping until you cum, even if he stops breathing. He would love nothing more than to die this deep in your pussy. “Aghh- Fuck- mm- Gonna- gonna cum” Light headed, Soobin doesn’t stop, craving your orgasm just as much as you were. With one final high pitched moan, you come undone. Your juices cover soobin’s fingers, dripping down his hand, while your essence covers his face. Sucking and licking up every last drop of you until you're clean, sucking off what’s left on his fingers and hand. Looking up and smiling at you as he does so “mmm all clean”

You can’t help but compliment him “good boy”

His face and chest flush deep red, as his breathing stops. You swear you can see the chill run down his spine. “You like that, Binnie? When will I call you a ‘good boy’?

He nods stiffly, until the can verbally assure you “yes”

“Well, how about my good boy come over here and get his treat?” You bring both of your feet to the top of the desk, keeping your legs open, spreading your folds with your fingers to show him your needy hole.

“Fuck” he exhales as he comes to you, cock throbbing to be inside you already. He quickly undoes the button on his pants, along with the zipper, dropping them to his ankles. Before removing his briefs he looks at you, making sure this is what you want.

Sitting up and tilting your head to the side you can’t help but smile at him, a slight chuckle behind your question “what's wrong Binnie?”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he hesitantly asks, if you say no he might die. He’s not sure he can live after this if you say no.

“Do you want this Bin?” you question back, smiling kindly at him as you sit up. Radiating kindness in your eyes, you reach for his hands.

“Fuck i’ve never wanted anything more in my life Y/N” he avoids your hands, insteading holding your head to his. Hoping you can feel how sincere he is.

“Soobin, I want this. I want you. I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.” your hands reach for the waistband of his underwear, hooking your fingers around it and pulling them down as you say against his lips “I want you to fuck me like I’ve always wanted” ending the sentence with a kiss to his lips as you let his briefs fall around his ankles with his pants, fully exposing his member to the cold air surrounding you. Parting from his lips, you look down to finally see the dick you’ve fantasized about for so long. “Holy fuck” you gasp under your breath, wrapping your fist around his thick shaft. “Bin you’re huge..” your voice drifts off as you oggle him, stroking him up and down, rubbing your thumb over his precum covered head. You let a drop of your spit fall from your mouth, using it to lubricate your hand.

“Mmm fuck- alright enough of that!” Soobin removes your hand from his member, pushing you to your back and aligning himself with you. “You ready love?” lightly pushing his tip against your opening.

“God yes Soobin please!” You whine desperate for him to be inside you.

“Thank god! I don’t think I can hold back any longER” gliding past your opening, slowly sheathing himself fully inside you. Rubbing every nerve along your sensitive walls.

Both of you moaning in harmony, finally together as you both fantasized about. Soobin’s cock was not for the weak. It reached so deep inside you, you could see it bulge through your stomach, while his girth stretched you so sinfully good that tears came to your eyes.

“you okay Y/N?” Soobin asks, concerned after seeing the wetness on your lashes.

“”M good Binnie, So fuckkingg good” you moan in response

“Mmkay pretty, Can I move then?” he chuckles lightly at how fucked you are right now

“Please. Fuck Binnie please” you beg

Sliding his hips back you both hiss in pleasure. Pulling back until his tip is all that remains inside you, he thrusts back into you.

“UGhh Bin” his hips pick up speed, his tip pressing against your cervix with every thrust.

“Fuck baby you feel so good”

“Fill me-uuughh- so good”

“Perfect pussy. So perfect. My pussy all mine” Soobin massages your breast with his hand, his other gripping tightly onto your hip. Praises are spit out in between the erotic sounds being made.

“Close Bin- fuck i’m so close”

“Me to baby me to”

“Want you to cum inside” You can feel Soobin’s cock twitch inside you, causing you to clench around him.

“Oh fuck!’ He moans “you serious Y/N?”

“Yes! Want your cum Soo-BIN” your voice hitches as his hips harshly slap into yours.

“Want my cum? Want me to fill your pretty pussy?” His voice takes a different tone, sounding deeper and sexy, dominant. Feeling your clench around him as he spoke to you this way pushed him further. Pulling out, he flips you around, pushing back in, his hips slap against your ass a couple of times before he bends forward. He lifts your leg up onto the desk, resting your weight on your knee while he wraps his long arms around your chest and stomach lifting you up. You can see everything. You’re smudged lipstick, black smudges of mascara, his messy hair pushed off of his forehead as he smirks at you. The way his fingers are working quick circles around your clit while the other is toying with your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple. But your eyes are locked lower on the mirror. Locked on the sight of Soobin’s cock sliding in and out of you. The visual has you shaking in his arms, drooling at how good his cook looks filling you, anticipating what it will look like when his cum is shooting inside you, dripping out when he pulls out of your throbbing cunt.

“Look how sexy you are, Y/N. See how well you take my cock baby?”

“So gooood-”

“My pretty girl can’t talk? My cock making you stupid?”

“Mmhmm” you whine “wan- wanna cum”

“You wanna cum baby? Wanna cream all over my cock?” he teases, biting your neck. You can only moan in response. “I’ll take that as a yes” he chuckles against your skin, before whispering “Cum for me Y/N” giving you one last deep thrust to push against your sweet spot, and you crumble. The band inside you snaps, hard, pink coloured eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clench around his length as your cum coats him.

“Good job baby. So good for me” he praises you, kissing your shoulder as he works you through the last ripples of your orgasm. Completely spent, your head falls back against his shoulder, only being held up by Soobin’s arms wrapped around you.

“Holy fuck bin” you breathlessly say

He chuckles “what?” starting to slowly glide into you again

Moaning, already overly sensitive from just cumming, you tell him “you’re fucking cock, jesus”

“Mmm? What about it, Y/N?” he hums in your ear, upping the intensity of his movements ever so deliciously. Dragging along your gummy walls

“ohH fuucckk”

“What about my cock Y/N?”

“So good- cock’s so good” you cry out, Soobin’s cock hitting deeper inside you again, searching for his own orgasm now.

“You need to be more specific, baby. Tell me what is it about my cock that you like so much”

You have no idea where your usually shy and bashful best friend is right now because the man fucking you right now is very different. Different in the sexiest way possible. “Never knew you were so dominant Bin”

He laughs, deeply in his chest “Talking back now are we?”

You look at him through the mirror and smirk, raising your eyebrows in a challenge wanting to push him even further.

“Alright then” he lets go of your body, and pushes you down flat to the desk “fine, be a brat”.

The slapping sound echoes throughout the room, the stinging pain where his hand made contact with your ass caused you to cry out. Fucking you harder than he had before, using you for his own need, taking out the remaining frustration he has from earlier.

“Gonna talk now?”

“Why would I do that, Binnie?” you pant between breathes as he fucks into you harder and faster.

Your reddened cheek is met with another harsh slap, making you arch your back and clench around his cock, “fuck!”

“Oh you like that. Not such a good girl afterall. Baby likes it rough huh?” Giving you another slap, you confirm everything he just said. “Mmm my baby likes it rough. You like it when I spank you, pretty girl? Like it when I'm rough?” spanking you on the other cheek now you cry out in pleasure. “Fuck youre so hot you know that? Squeezing my cock like that”

“Fuck Soobin, need you to cum” you whine. “Want your cum Soobin please!”

“You want me to cum? Tell me what you like about my cock first Y/N. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you up.”

“Fuck Soobin. You’re cocks huge - so big, fills me so good. Ahhh-hits so deep inside. Fuck! stretch me so good. Makes me feel soo good Binnie, fuck- PLEASE!- PLEASE BIN- cum in me”

“You want it?” he teases one last time, as you say the words that make him crumble

“Please Soobin! Fill me with your cum! Make me yours- Claim me Binnie-”

Soobin fucks you hard and fast, chasing his orgasm to do exactly as you begged for.

“Mine baby- FUCK- gonna make you mine. Make sure everyone knows it too. Fill you with my cum baby- Drip down your thighs for the rest of the day- squirm everytime you feel it remembering my cock deep inside you. Make you feel better than anyone ever could. You’re mine Y/N-mine!”

His hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside you as his hot white cum starts to paint your insides. The feeling of finally being with Soobin and being claimed by him, is so overwhelming, you can't help but cum with him. Kissing down your spine while you both come down from your highs, you turn over your shoulder leaning for a kiss. When he connects his lips to yours it’s heaven. The anger and desperation are absent this time, letting you both feel your emotions. Feeling how you both belong together.

It felt so right, like all of your missing pieces had been found. You found your home, and it was Soobin.

“Y/N”

“Mmhmm?” You smile at him pulling away from his lips

“I- I..”

“Come on Soob don’t be shy now” you tease him

“I’m just… fuck I’m just so happy right now”

“Me to Soobin. So so happy”

“I love you Y/N” he confesses

Your eyes widened, shocked that he just spoke the words you dreamed of hearing one day. Too stunned to speak. Sure you just fucked each other and admitted that you both wanted each other but love!? You knew you loved him but hearing him say those three words made your heart explode.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way. I just,” he rubs the back of his neck embarrassed “I just really wanted to tell you.”

The biggest smile spreads across your face unable to contain your glee. ‘He’s so fucking cute I can’t handle it’ you think to yourself before you respond to him “I love you to Soobin!”

His eyes light up as he engulfs you in the tightest hug. “God I love you so much. Can I keep you to myself now? Can you be mine? Only mine? Please!?” He asks

“Soobin you goof! I was already yours!” You giggle at how adorable he is. “You’re so fucking cute I can’t handle you!”

“Stop!” He blushes and hides in your neck at you calling him cute

“I can’t help it, Bin! Look at you, this is the CUTEST!” You squeal at him

He pokes out of your neck at looks up at you with big brown puppy dog eyes as he rests his chin on your chest and pouts, whining “stop teasing me”

“YOU THINK THIS IS BETTER!? My heart is gonna explode from cuteness overload! You’re like a big puppy” you rubs his head, emphasising your point.

“Okay okay!” He laughs before taking your hand off of His head and kissing your palm. “You really are like Marin when I think about it. You sounded just like her just now”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Marin Kitagawa is bae. However, can we talk about how jealous you were earlier”

Hanging his head in his hands Soobin pleads “yeah… can we forget that? Please?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” You tease him, making him groan. “You know, it’s was kinda hot though”

Soobin’s head springs up “yeah?”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot seeing you get so mad when the guys were talking to me.”

“They weren’t talking, they were all over you! Touching you and shit! I-“

“Soob! Calm down. You won babe, I’m all yours” kissing him to shut him up.

“Yeah… you’re mine. My girl”

“And you’re my man”

“Y/n?”

“Mmhmm?” you hum sweetly

*Knock knock knock*

You both jump, startled and try to cover yourselves as you watch the door crack open a tiny bit

“Hey guys, it’s just me” Yeonjun quietly says through the door “I don’t know what you’re both up to but Soobin the shoot starts in 15 minutes you need to get ready.”

“Okay! Thanks hyung” Soobin responds awkwardly as Yeonjun shuts the door, leaving you two to fix yourselves up and get ready for the shoot.

You both scramble around, scouring the floor for your clothes. Quickly putting back on your underwear, and bra, and tying your shirt around your waist and fixing your skirt. You grab your brush belt and prepare as fast as you can, while Soobin walks back over to you, fastening the button on his pants.

“Sit” you smile at him and point to the chair

As he takes his seat you look him over and immediately regret attaching onto his neck so hard earlier. Covering the purple and red marks was going to take longer than you hoped. So you dive in right away, not wasting a single second. Concentrating so hard that you don’t even talk.

Soobin takes in your appearance. The love bites that he left to decorate your neck and chest make him feel warm inside, knowing everyone will see them. His eyes wander to your face and he can't help the swelling of his heart as he watches your eyebrows crinkle as you concentrate on trying to cover his hickeys. Finding the way you bite your lip and lick your lips as you work is adorable. He’s watched you work so many times before, and seen these faces both while you work and when it’s just the two of you gaming or working on something, but this time it’s different. Knowing that you love him the way he loves you makes everything about you that much cuter. He speaks before he even processes what he’s going to say

“Y/N?”

“Mmm?” Humming in response, words taking too much effort at this moment

“Can I take you on a date? Like a proper one?”

Your whole body freezes as you finally look at him, not just the marks on him. “What?” You ask quietly

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes. YES! Of course I will!” You smile and hug him before giving him a quick peck.

“Is tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah that sounds good” you say excitedly as you return to your work, finishing covering the last of his marks, moving on to the rest of his face. “God I hope you’re wearing something that covers most of this! I’m gonna be in so much shit!” referring to the million marks you had left on him.

“Y/N it’s okay that’s what editing is for” chuckling as he rubs your arm in support

“I just got so carried away… wanted to show everyone your mine”

“Like I’m one to talk! Have you seen yourself?” Laughing at how desperate you both were to claim each other.

“Still!” You apply concealer around his eyes and blend it into the rest of his makeup. Combing through his brows with a gel and adding a light tint to his already swollen lips. “Your lips are even more pouty now. Fuck you’re gonna look to good in this shoot. I can see the edits now” despair shooting across your face as you tip your head back.

“Hey! Who cares about edits? I’m all yours baby”

“But everyone’s gonna see how sexy you look” you pout

“And who did that to me?” Soobin raises his eyebrows and you flush a little “exactly” he smirks and pecks you quickly

You blend out the subtle blush you applied and then look him over, making sure everything looks okay. Which of course he does, his skin is flawless and he always looks gorgeous. “Okay I’m done”

Standing from the chair he looks in the mirror and fixes his hair “you’d never know I was covered in hickeys a minute ago”

You slap his arm and he laughs “keep it that way bin!”

“Alright alright!” He turns to you, grabbing your hands gently with his huge ones and looks into your pink tinted lenses as you look up at him. “I’ll text you after the shoot okay?”

“Kay” you softly respond.

Taking your hand up to his lips, Soobin places a soft kiss on the back of it before saying “I love you Y/N”

“Love you to Bin”

He gives you one last kiss, his hand cupping your ear as his thumb rubs your cheekbone. He reluctantly lets go and jogs to the door. Before exiting, he turns back to you and smiles.

“I’ll see you later?”

You nod and he leaves with a smile plastered on his face. Walking down the hall to the shoot, he sees the guys. All staring him down with intense eyes.

“What?” Soobin asks tentatively

“WHAT!? Bro you need to spill NOW!” Yeonjun demands

“Ahhh- wow look at the time we have to start yeah? I think they just called my name” he points with his thumb over his shoulder as he quick walk turns into sprint to wardrobe to escape this conversation.

“CHOI SOOBIN! Get back here” Yeonjun chases after him, not willing to let him off the hook until he hears every last detail of how well his plan worked out.

Yeonjun’s phone pings notifying him of a new text message. “Don’t think this is over Soobin!” He yells at him, stopping to take out his phone, seeing the notification with your name. Opening your message he smirks proud of his two idiot best friends.

“Thank you ❤️” is all your text said but he knew exactly what you were referring to

“You're welcome pretty! but you owe me 😘😉”