xoshize

[xoshize]

Hi guys, sorry I haven't been active for a while. I've lost the desire to write a bit these days... I'm not saying I'll stop writing, but I don't have any new ideas right now.

I'm sorry I didn't write the second part of "Five more minutes" as I said. I'll probably continue it when I get back to writing, or I'll leave it on hold, I don't know.

For now, I'm taking a break, and I'll see you again (hopefully soon!).

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

[xoshize]

Five more minutes

"He said five more minutes... he always says five more minutes."

☆ Listening to "R u mine" by Arctic Monkeys while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem reader (18+).

Warnings: fluff and a little bit smut.

Synopsis: You want to sleep but Rodrick keeps keeping you awake.

Author's note: Oh Rodrick, how I love you... I've been rewatching the movies these days hahah. I hope you like it! (Possible part 2 coming soon).

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Rodrick's room is a mess, but you're used to it. Low lights, wrinkled sheets, a Löded Diper t-shirt thrown on the nightstand, and his half-broken amplifier humming in the background.

You're there, lying on his bed with your head buried in his pillow, while he pounds away on the drums as if he were playing at the height of a world tour and not in his room, late at night.

"Rodrick, I swear to God, if you don't stop... I'll smother you with the pillow." He doesn't respond, or rather: he laughs, but without stopping. He's being a bastard on purpose, and you know it.

"Come on," he says between shots, without even turning around. "Just five more minutes." "You said 'five more minutes' twenty minutes ago, I'm about to die." "Die in style, then, with a chilling soundtrack."

You huff and turn to the side, tired, exhausted, your temples pounding. You're here to spend the night with him, not to be tortured by his inner drummer at indecent hours.

After a few more seconds - which seem like eternity - he finally stops. A final, sharp thump, then silence. You hear him huff and drop his drumsticks somewhere. The stool creaks as he rises, and then the mattress dips behind you.

"Hey," he says, his voice hoarse and thick. You feel him slowly approaching, his arm brushing against yours. "Are you offended?" "No," you reply dryly. "I'm just praying you get an infection." "Hot."

You laugh slightly, even though you're tired. Rodrick leans closer, and his breath touches your neck. You feel his warm hand run slowly over your waist. There's something sweet in that gesture, even if he would never say the word.

"You should have told me you were so fucked up," he whispers. "I'd let you sleep first." "Bullshit, you like torturing me." "Just a little." You roll onto your back, meeting Rodrick's gaze in the dim glow of his desk lamp.

His fingers trace lazy circles on your stomach through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, his touch gentle despite the rough skin from years of drumming. "Fuck, I'm tired," you mutter, closing your eyes for a second too long.

Rodrick's hand slides up to rest against your cheek, thumb brushing your temple. "Then stop talking," he says, but there's no bite to it. You groan in response, but don't protest as Rodrick's fingers move from your temple to your hairline, threading gently through the strands.

His touch is light and deliberate, as if he's trying to soothe you... or maybe just appreciating how he can do this to you - knock you out with exhaustion, then keep you awake.

"You're lucky I don't smother you," you murmur, opening your eyes to slits. His face is close now, lips curled into that infuriating half-smirk that means he's amused by you. His dark eyes shine in the dim light, reflecting the glow of his overloaded desk lamp.

"Lucky?" "Yeah, lucky. You're lucky I care enough about you to stay here while you torture me." You stretch lazily under his touch, the exhaustion still weighing on you but somehow eased by his presence.

His fingers keep working through your hair, slow and methodical, as if he's memorizing the way it feels. The steady pressure helps you relax, your muscles loosening one by one.

"You're lucky I don't kick you out," he counters, but there's no real threat in it. His thumb traces the curve of your ear before moving back to your temple. "If you were anyone else, I'd let you leave."

"Oh, sure," you scoff, but don't move away from his hand. Rodrick hums in response, his fingers still moving through your hair with practiced ease. His touch is warm, grounding, and you let your eyes drift closed again, focusing only on the way his hand feels against your scalp.

The mattress dips slightly as he shifts his weight, bringing himself closer, and you sense his breath against your cheek before his lips graze the shell of your ear. "You're gonna fall asleep on me?" he murmurs, voice rough and low.

You make a noncommittal sound, half groan, half sigh. His mouth brushes the side of your neck next and your breathing falters, but you don't open your eyes. Not yet. His mouth stays there, warm and firm, his lips pressing just enough to send a slow tingle down your spine.

You're too tired to respond properly, but your body betrays you anyway - your fingers curl slightly against his wrist where it rests near your shoulder. "Don't," he whispers, barely audible.

Your eyelids flutter open at that. Rodrick's face is inches from yours now, dark and unreadable in the low light. His eyes search yours for a second too long, something unspoken passing between you.

His hand moves from your hair to cradle the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the pulse point beneath your jaw. His lips are still close enough that you can feel his exhale ghost over your skin, warm and steady.

He watches you intently, waiting for something - permission, a reaction, a sign you're still awake enough to care. "Rodrick," you murmur, his name slipping out softer than you intended. His thumb pauses against your jaw, pressing lightly before resuming its slow motion.

"You're really gonna sleep now?" His voice is rough, lower than before, carrying something you don't quite recognize. There's something almost... tender in it, despite the teasing edge. You should be tired. You are tired.

[xoshize]

Hello everyone, how are you? I have to tell you that unfortunately I will not be active from today, July 7th, to July 11th. I'm sorry but I had some setbacks. See you, take care!

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

[xoshize]

Just one step closer - part III

"Just one step closer to the place my heart already lives."

☆ Listening to "All mine" by Brent Faiyaz while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Detective Loki x fem reader (18+).

Warnings: heavy smut.

Synopsis: a very romantic night with him.

Author's note: argh! why does he have to be a fictional character? what a drag, but I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ.𖥔 ݁ ˖

"Come here," he murmurs. It's not a demand - it's an invitation, a request. You go willingly, closing the small distance between you. He steps closer, guiding you backward until the back of your legs bump against the edge of the couch.

His hands slide up your arms to your shoulders, then down to your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he says, his voice rough. His thumbs trace circles over your lower back as he searches your face.

You can feel the heat of his body through his shirt, the solid strength of him. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as you meet his gaze. "I think I do," you murmur. "Because I've wanted it too."

His breath catches, and for a moment, he just looks at you - really looks at you - like he's memorizing this moment, this confession. Then his hands frame your face, tilting your head up as he kisses you.

His mouth moves against yours with practiced ease, his tongue sliding against yours in warm, teasing strokes. One hand slides from your face to your hair, tangling gently in the strands as he deepens the kiss.

His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel every line of his body, the hard planes of his chest pressing against yours, the solid muscle of his thighs against yours.

When he finally breaks the kiss, it's only to trail his lips along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His teeth graze lightly over the sensitive skin where your pulse flutters beneath the surface.

You gasp, your fingers tightening in his shirt as he nips gently at the base of your neck. He hums against your skin, pleased with your reaction. "You taste good," he murmurs, his lips moving against your skin as he speaks.

His hands slide down to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly as he puts you on the couch. He follows, spreading your thighs as he settles between them. His hands move to the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing lightly against your stomach as he waits for permission.

You arch into the touch, silently encouraging him. He tugs your shirt over your head, his gaze darkening as he takes you in. His hands follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before cupping them through the thin fabric of your bra.

"I want to see you," he murmurs, looking up at you through his lashes. His fingers find the clasp of your bra with practiced ease, undoing it in a single movement. He pulls the straps down your arms slowly, revealing you inch by inch.

When the fabric falls away, his breath catches, his hands hovering just above your skin for a moment before covering you. His thumbs brush over your nipples, circling them gently until they pebble under his touch.

"Beautiful," he breathes. He dips his head, taking one peaked nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the sensitive bud before drawing it deeper into his mouth, sucking gently.

You arch into his mouth, a soft moan escaping as he lavishes attention on your breast. His hand moves to your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers while his mouth works on the first.

The dual stimulation sends sharp pleasure straight to your core, making you squirm against him. He notices, pulling back just enough to smirk at you before switching to the other breast.

His tongue circles your nipple before he nips lightly at the bud, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders as the sensation jolts through you. "That's it," he murmurs against your skin, feeling your reaction.

His hand slides down your stomach, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist before dipping lower. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, tugging you closer.

His other hand remains on your breast, kneading gently as he watches your face. "Tell me what you want," he says, the words rough with want. You swallow hard, heat flooding your face even as you push your hips toward his hand. "You," you breathe. "I want you."

His gaze darkens at your words, his fingers tightening momentarily on your breast before sliding down to the button of your pants, he undoes it with swift precision.

The cool air hits your exposed skin as he tugs your pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. He makes a low sound in his throat - something between a growl and a groan - as he sees you bare before him.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing them apart gently but firmly. "Look at you," he murmurs. His thumbs trace slow circles on the insides of your thighs, moving closer and closer to where you ache for his touch. "So pretty like this."

Your breath comes faster now, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thumb finally brush over your slick folds. A shudder runs through you at the contact, your hips twitching instinctively toward his hands.

He watches your reaction with hungry intensity, his fingers spreading you open as he studies your glistening wetness. Without breaking eye contact, he leans in and drags his tongue through your folds in one slow, deliberate stroke.

A choked moan tears from your throat at the sudden, overwhelming pleasure. "Fuck," you gasp, your fingers flying to his hair as he does it again, this time circling your clit with his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he feasts on you, alternating between firm pressure and teasing flicks of his tongue. He adds a finger inside you, curling it just right as he continues working your clit with his mouth.

You arch your back off the couch, your thighs quivering around his head. His free hand moves to your stomach, pressing you back down as he redoubles his efforts, his tongue moving faster, his finger pushing deeper.

"Oh god," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Please-" He knows exactly what you need without you finishing the sentence. His tongue flicks faster over your clit while his finger crooks against that perfect spot inside you.

Pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before snapping. You come with a cry, your body tensing as ecstasy crashes through you in waves. He doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through your orgasm with his tongue and finger until the sensations become almost too much.

Only then does he ease off, dragging his tongue through your folds one last time before pulling back to watch you. You're panting, your skin flushed, your body thrumming with aftershocks. He kisses the inside of your thigh before straightening, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking his fingers clean with a satisfied hum.

His gaze darkens as he watches your reaction to his show. "You taste even better than I imagined," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips as he kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours with possessive hunger.

One hand cradles your jaw while the other grips your hip, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard length of him through his pants, pressing insistently against your thigh. "I want to be inside you," he growls against your lips.

His hands move to the waistband of his pants, undoing them with swift precision before pushing them down just enough to free his cock. It springs free, thick and already fully hard.

He wraps his hand around himself, giving a few slow strokes as he watches you watch him. The head is dark and swollen, glistening with precum. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry as you take in the size of him.

It's been a while since you've been with anyone, and he's... substantial. He notices your reaction and slows his strokes, thumb brushing over the tip to smear the precum. "I'll go slow," he promises, voice rough with need.

His free hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I'll make sure you're ready." You nod, words failing you as he guides himself to your entrance, the broad head nudging against your still-sensitive folds.

He presses inside just an inch, then pauses, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. You breathe out steadily, adjusting to the stretch as he gives you time to accommodate him.

His thumb continues its gentle motions across your cheekbone, his other hand still resting lightly on your hip. "You okay?" he asks, voice rough but careful. "Yes," you whisper. "Please - more."

He exhales sharply at your words, his grip tightening slightly on your hip as he pushes in another inch. A low groan rumbles in his chest. "Fuck, you're tight." You gasp as he fills you, the stretch bordering on the edge of pain but never quite crossing it.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pauses again, buried halfway inside you. His breathing is ragged, his entire body tense with restraint. Sweat glistens on his forehead as he fights for control.

You can feel him pulsing inside you, hot and thick. "Look at me," he murmurs. When your eyes meet his, he gives you another slow inch, stretching you wider. A shudder runs through him as your walls flutter around him. "God, you feel good."

You arch your back, urging him deeper. His eyes darken with approval as he complies, sinking the rest of the way in with one steady push. The stretch is intense but exhilarating, your body clenching around him instinctively. "Oh fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to yours.

"Just - give me a second," he grits out, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. You can feel him shaking with the effort of holding still, his cock twitching inside you as your body adjusts around him.

After a moment, he lifts his head, his gaze blazing with need. "You feel incredible," he breathes. His thumb strokes over your cheekbone again, almost tenderly, before sliding down to trace your lower lip. "Kiss me."

You do, parting your mouth as his tongue slides against yours. The kiss is deep and messy, his hips shifting minutely inside you as his tongue mirrors what his cock wants to do.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing hard. His hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly as he begins to move. The initial thrust is slow, deliberate, giving you every inch of him as he pulls back just as slowly.

A shudder wracks his body as he bottoms out again, his forehead pressing against yours again. "That's it," he murmurs, more to himself than you. "Just like that." His thrusts pick up speed, not rough but insistent, each one driving you deeper into the cushions.

His hands grip your ass, tilting your hips to change the angle, and you gasp as he hits that perfect spot inside you. "Oh god," you moan, your nails raking down his back. He groans at the sting, his hips snapping forward with more force.

"Right there," you gasp, your body tensing as pleasure builds again. "I know," he growls, his breath hot against your neck as he nips at the sensitive skin there. His movements become more erratic, his cock dragging over that sweet spot inside you with every thrust.

One hand slides up to cup your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple as he drives into you. The dual stimulation has your back arching off the couch, your thighs quivering around his hips.

"Fuck - fuck, I'm gonna come," you gasp, your fingers twisting in the fabric of the couch cushions as your body coils tight. He doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, just drives into you harder, his hips snapping against yours as he chases his own release.

The pressure inside you explodes outward, your orgasm crashing through you in intense waves. Your walls clamp down around him, milking his cock as you cry out, your body convulsing beneath him.

He groans your name, his thrusts becoming erratic as your climax pulls him toward his own. "Fuck, I'm coming," he grits out, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself to the hilt inside you.

A strangled moan tears from his throat as he spills, his cock pulsing deep within you as he rides out his orgasm. His body tenses above you, muscles taut with release, his grip on your hips almost bruising.

He stays like that for a moment, breathing hard, his forehead pressed against your collarbone as he comes down from the high. Slowly, he pulls back to look at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something warmer.

He leans down to kiss you, the touch gentle despite the roughness of his breathing. When he finally lifts his head, he studies your face with an expression that's both hungry and tender.

His fingers trace the curve of your cheek before brushing a damp strand of hair away from your forehead. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice still rough from exertion. His hips give a small, involuntary thrust, and you both groan at the sensation.

He leans down to kiss you again, slower this time, his tongue sliding against yours with lazy satisfaction. His hands move to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel his cock still twitching inside you, not fully soft yet.

When he finally pulls back, his thumbs trace over your cheekbones, his gaze searching yours. "Let me take care of you." He shifts slightly, his hands sliding down to your waist as he carefully pulls out of you.

You gasp at the sudden emptiness, your body clenching around nothing. He groans softly, watching your reaction before reaching for a nearby box of tissues to clean you both up. His touch is gentle, almost worshipful as he wipes away any remaining evidence of your lovemaking.

You tilt your head back to look at him, meeting his amused gaze. "Exceptional, you?" His smile widens, eyes bright with satisfaction. "Better than good." He shifts slightly, pulling you more securely against him as his hand continues its slow strokes up and down your arm. "Better than anything I've had in a long time."

The sincerity in his words makes your stomach flutter. You've been with men who made grand declarations after sex before, but there's something different about the way he says it - like he means it, not just because he's riding the high of his orgasm.

You press a soft kiss to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, breathing in the salt and musk of his skin. He hums approvingly, his hand pausing in its strokes to squeeze your arm gently before resuming.

Outside, the city hums with distant traffic and muted conversation from the street below, but here on this couch, wrapped in each other's arms, it feels like you're the only two people in the world.

[xoshize]

Just one step closer - part II

"Just one step closer to the place my heart already lives."

☆ Listening to "Call out my name" by The Weeknd while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Detective Loki x fem reader (18+).

Warnings: smut.

Synopsis: through the streets of the suburbs before going to your house.

Author's note: well, here is part II of "Just one step closer"! (I'm already thinking about part 3 hihihi), thanks anon for asking for part two and most of all i'm glad you liked it, hope you like this one too!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"You've been thinking about me too much," you say, repeating his earlier confession with a teasing lilt. You glance sideways at him, catching the ghost of a smile in the dim light.

He exhales a quiet laugh, almost to himself. "Yeah, I have." His thumb traces a slow circle against your palm as he speaks. "I don't usually do that," he adds, his tone carefully neutral. "Thinking about people."

"But here we are." You stop walking, turning to face him fully now. The narrow street feels suddenly intimate, the sounds of the city muffled to a distant hum. He stops too, his hand still clasped around yours.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Here we are." His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch light, almost tentative.

The streetlamp above casts half his face in shadow, but his eyes are clear in the golden glow. They search yours for a moment before dropping to your mouth. His fingers tighten slightly against your neck as he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours in the narrow space between streetlights.

The kiss is slow at first - tentative, like he's testing the fit of his mouth to yours. Then he shifts, his other hand sliding around your waist to anchor you to him as the kiss deepens. His mouth is warm and firm, and there's something hungry in the way he moves against you, like he's been waiting for this all night.

You taste coffee and something darker, something uniquely him as his tongue meets yours. His grip tightens at your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your back as he pulls you flush against him.

His body is solid against yours, the heat of him seeping through your clothes as you stand in the dim glow of the streetlamp. His grip is possessive now, one hand firm at your waist while the other cradles the back of your neck, angling your head just so.

The kiss is no longer tentative - it's demanding, his mouth moving against yours with quiet desperation. You can feel the rapid beat of his pulse where his fingers press against your skin.

When he finally breaks away, his breathing is uneven, his eyes dark in the low light. "I should have done this sooner," he murmurs, the words rough. His thumb traces the edge of your jaw, his gaze dropping to your lips again.

You catch your breath, your lips still tingling from his mouth. The street feels impossibly quiet around you, the distant hum of traffic reduced to white noise beneath the pounding of your heart.

His thumb traces the swell of your lower lip, his gaze following the movement. "You're thinking too much again," you murmur, speaking softly. You lean in and brush your mouth against his chin, feeling the faint stubble there.

He lets out a soft sound - not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh - as his hands slide down to your hips. "Old habits," he admits, his words rough. His grip tightens almost imperceptibly as he pulls you closer. "But you're right."

"My place is over the corner..." you say, and he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his hands still firm at your waist. There's a question in his gaze - checking, waiting for confirmation. You nod once, deliberately, and his grip tightens for a heartbeat before he releases you.

"Lead the way," he says, voice rough with want. His thumb brushes your hip as he steps back to give you space. The streetlight above throws half his face in shadow, highlighting the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the way his mouth is still slightly parted from your last kiss.

You turn, walking down the quieter street with quick steps, your skin still thrumming from his touch. The night air cools your lips where his mouth was moments before.

[xoshize]

Just one step closer

"Just one step closer to the place my heart already lives."

☆ Listening to "Kiss me" by Sixpence None the Richer while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Detective Loki x fem reader (18+).

Warnings: fluff and a little bit smut.

Synopsis: he invites you out to dinner with him.

Author's note: oh my god, you can't understand the crush I have for Jake Gyllenhaal in general, but with this movie he really outdid himself. I even have a collection just for him on Tik Tok hahah, anyway I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

ෆ°ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You find him waiting for you near his car, under a streetlight that emits a pale, intermittent light. His hands are in his jacket pockets and his gaze turned toward the road.

"I thought you weren’t coming," he says, without immediately turning around. You remain a step away from him. "I thought I wasn’t coming either."

Then he looks at you, finally. His eyes rest on you with that strange intensity that disarms you. It’s as if he sees things that you don’t even know you have inside. And yet you don’t feel exposed.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, and his voice is lower, slower than usual. As if he’s been thinking about this question for a long time, without finding another way to ask you. You stare at him for a moment, and you understand that it’s not a question of food, it’s an invitation. Unstated, unclear but sincere.

"Yes," you reply. "But only if it’s not a disguised interrogation." A corner of his mouth lifts, just a little. It’s not a real smile, but it’s something like it. "Not yet," he says.

The place is small, with red tables and an old song playing on a radio hanging on a nail. No one is looking at you. You sit across from him. He orders just a coffee and you get something simple.

He looks at your hands, your fingers around the glass of water. His eyes linger there, then come back up, slowly. When he meets your gaze, he doesn’t look away.

"You have a particular vibe…" he says, almost under his breath. "And I can’t tell if that’s something that attracts me or scares me." The sentence takes you by surprise. Loki isn’t one to say things like that, casually. Not unintentionally.

"What if it’s both?" you reply. He lowers his gaze for a moment but then returns it to you. There’s something in his eyes that seems akin to desire. Contained, restrained but real.

"I didn’t ask you to come to dinner to distract you," he confesses. "I asked you to come because… I’ve been thinking about you… for days. More than I should."

Your heart races. Not because he caught you off guard but because he’s there, vulnerable. Naker than he thought he could allow himself to be. You reach out and place your hand on his, on the table, and he doesn’t pull it away.

"Me too," you say. "I was thinking about you." No more words are needed.

The plate in front of you has gone cold. You stopped eating a while ago, but you didn’t even notice. Loki plays with the knife, slowly turning it between his fingers as if he’s thinking about a question he can’t solve.

"Is it always like this?" you ask. "When you’re with someone. Do you just think about chance?" He looks up, slowly. His eyes are shiny, but not tired… rather, deep. Like a lake at dusk, holding all the cold of the night beneath the surface.

"I’m never with anyone," he says simply. The answer gets under your skin. You look down for a moment, then take a sip of water. You try to hide the fact that his words have affected you, but he sees it. He sees everything.

"Now what?" you ask. "Are you with anyone now?" A second passes, two, maybe three, and then he nods… small but firm "Yes." And he looks at you, silence.

"It’s a problem, you know?" you say, almost laughing. He raises an eyebrow. "For me or for now?" "Both." He smiles, but it’s more of a swipe of his lips... an expression that’s not his own, as if smiling were something he’s forgotten how to do, but is now trying to remember.

"It’s a mess for me too," he admits. Then he takes a chip from your plate, dips it in ketchup with disarming slowness, and eats it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You let out a laugh, it comes out spontaneously, almost shyly.

He looks at you immediately. "What’s wrong?" "I didn’t imagine you like this…" "Like what?" "calm."

Another pause with the awareness that your barriers are starting to give way and that neither of you has the desire to defend them anymore. "I didn’t imagine you like this either," he replies. "I thought you were one of those girls who really want to communicate…" "I was."

You look at each other and neither of you looks away anymore. Then he takes the cup, takes a sip of the coffee they brought you, and puts it gently on the table. His fingers brush yours, it’s almost imperceptible, but you feel it. God, you feel it.

You feel like talking, asking a thousand things - about the case, about his childhood, about the tattoo under his ear - but you don’t want to ruin this small and fragile space that has been created between you, made of simple gestures.

"So," Loki says, lowering his voice, "what’s happening now?" "What’s happening is that you’re looking at me as if you want to kiss me," you answer. He doesn’t step back but he doesn’t move forward either. He stays there, balanced on the edge.

"Maybe so," he says. "But not here, not with this crappy music." And you laugh again, and he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and warmth. "So you know how to laugh," he murmurs. "That’s rare of you, you should do it more often."

You look down, but only for a moment. "Maybe… you should stay closer to me, so maybe it happens more often."

When you leave the diner, the air is warmer than expected, and the sky is full of clouds that don’t promise rain but seem to be holding something back, like you.

Loki holds the door open for you, in his own way - almost absentminded. You walk slowly toward the car. Neither of you are in a hurry and the night seems designed to prolong that moment, to give it space.

"So," you say, trying to break the silence full of everything, "This was your idea of ​​a romantic dinner?" He turns to you, looks at you, then does it. That sly little smile, so genuine it makes your stomach slip and for a second you understand why that man doesn’t have to say much to make you lose your balance.

"If it was romantic," he says, his voice low, "I wouldn’t have let you finish the fries alone…" You laugh unexpectedly. "So you’re possessive about food, too?" He takes a half step closer and his gaze drops to your mouth for a moment, then comes back up, more daring.

"It depends," he says, almost in a whisper. "On who’s on the other side of the table." Your heart pounds, but you don’t pull away, you meet his gaze, still. "And now that you’ve finished your coffee and your tough jokes… what’s going on?"

He looks at you for a moment, then raises an eyebrow. "What’s happening is that I’ve been thinking about you too much for a few nights," he says, directly. "And this dinner didn’t help." The silence after is short, but dense.

You step closer and the space between you is barely a breath. "And what do you usually do when you think about someone too much?" He tilts his head, that smile, again. More pronounced this time, almost amused.

"I usually walk away." You take another half step, teasing him. "And this time?" He doesn’t answer, he just looks at you. Then he puts a light hand on your side, as if he’s checking to see if he can and you’re letting him.

"This time," he says softly, his voice hoarse, "I don’t feel like it at all." And then he kisses you. It’s not a violent kiss, but a slow one, full of all the things he hasn’t said and doesn’t know how to say yet, and you answer him with the same intensity because you both know you’re not trying to fill a void, but to build something - even if only for tonight.

When he pulls away from you, he stays close to you. "Shall I walk you home?" he asks, but he does it in a tone that leaves every possibility open. You smile, and for once you tell the truth without hiding: "Yeah, thank you." And he simply nods.

[xoshize]

Question game to get to know me better

Hello everyone! Today I really wanted to propose this question game since I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I usually like it when people ask me questions, so here is this list of initial questions.

You are free to ask me other questions if you want! (Obviously, if there are questions I don't feel comfortable with, I won't answer I’m sorry).

I will answer your questions in this same post, so I won't get confused hahah. Goodbye and thanks in advance!

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

1) What color are your eyes?

2) Do you like your name? Why?

3) Describe your personality in 3 words.

4) What color is your hair?

5) Where do you shop?

6) Do you have any siblings?

7) If you can live anywhere in the world, where would it be? Why?

8) What is your favourite makeup brand?

9) What is your favorite tv show?

10) How tall are you?

11) How many friends do you have? 

12) Who is your celebrity crush?

13) What is your favorite movie? 

14) Do you read a lot? What is your favorite book? 

15) Your top 10 favorite songs.

16) How many kids do you want? 

17) What is your go to hair style?

18) What is your opinion on smoking?

19) Would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

20) What are your hobbies?

21) Can you draw? 

22) Do you play an instrument?

23) What is your favorite ice cream flavor? 

24) Are you outgoing or shy?

25) Have you ever been drunk? 

26) Do you prefer summer or winter? 

27) Do you prefer day or night? 

28) Do you prefer dark, milk or white chocolate? 

29) What is your favorite month? 

30) What is your zodiac sign?

31) Free pass! Ask whatever you want to know that's not on the list.

[xoshize]

Every word a wound

"You said you didn’t mean it - but every word was a wound that stayed."

☆ Listening to "Breathe me" by Sia while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x young fem reader (18+).

Warnings: daddy issues, angst.

Synopsis: every time there's something to do you don't help, and that bothers him.

Author's note: hey, I'm watching the second season of The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon and I'm quite enjoying it. I finished the main series a few months ago and since then I was thinking that after I started the blog, I should definitely write something about him, so here it is. I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

The sunset light filters through the branches of the forest, painting the road red as it makes its way through the trees. You’re sitting on the rusty edge of the pickup, knees pulled to your chest and staring into space.

The hood is up and Daryl is leaning over the engine, his hands covered in oil, his brows furrowed and a cigarette between his lips. The sun is beating down hard and a drop of sweat is running down his temple and down his jaw. No sound of walkers, just his heavy breathing and your silence. You don’t speak, you don’t move and you don’t help.

"What the fuck is wrong with you today?" he blurts out, not beating around the bush. You press your lips together. It’s easier this way, it’s safer. "Do you hear me?" he insists, his voice harsher. "If you’re going to just stare at the horizon then let me know, so I don’t waste time checking every two minutes to see if you’re okay."

You turn sharply. "I don’t need you to protect me." He laughs, bitterly. "Are you serious? Your hands shake every time you hold a gun. You're a goddamn mess." The words hit you like a bullet in the ribs, but it's the tone, more than the content, that hurts. That sharp contempt, that way he looks at you... like you're nothing.

He quickly puts out his cigarette and throws it on the ground, then comes closer, his face lined with fatigue and anger. "You know why? Because you keep acting like a little girl looking for attention. What, didn't daddy ever tell you you were good? Is that why you try to get noticed every time? Because no one ever gave you a fucking hug?" You feel yourself breaking. Tears well up in your eyes before you can stop them, hot, humiliating.

"Do you want to move that ass or not?" he growls. You look at him, sobbing. "I-I don't know how to fix a car." He snorts "I didn't ask you to be a mechanic, but you could at least pretend to help me, pass me tools. Get out of your world that you live in whenever there's something that needs doing."

You shrug. "I thought you could handle it on your own... you always do." He laughs hysterically. "Sure, because I'm the only one who has to handle it. Because all you have to do is stand there and have those doe eyes of yours, hoping someone will notice you."

You feel yourself getting whipped. You knew this moment would come sooner or later. "What's wrong with me today?" you ask, tears streaming down your face. "The problem is that whenever things get tough, you shut down. You disappear. You retreat into that fucking abandoned-child silence. You're not the only one who's been through that, okay? You're not the only one who's had a shitty father."

The blow goes straight to the stomach. "Don’t talk about my father," you whisper. "Why not? Did he make you feel invisible? Good job, he did such a good job that now you carry that emptiness around like a crown. Like it’s a reason to be treated with kid gloves, but it’s not." The words stab you one by one.

You stand up suddenly, eyes shining with anger and something worse: shame. "You don’t know anything about me," you shout. "Nothing! And just because I don’t cry in front of you, doesn’t mean I’m not drowning every fucking day."

"Well, you’re so busy playing the victim that you don’t even realize how selfish you’ve become," he spits. You sob again, a sharp, broken sound. You didn’t want to break down in front of him. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

"Asshole," you whisper, shaking. "You could have saved yourself this speech." The silence that follows is deafening. The wind barely stirs the leaves. Crows caw in the distance. Daryl runs a hand over his face, his fingers smeared with oil. He no longer has anger, only remorse.

Something in his eyes changes. A crack. "I'm sorry," he says softly. His voice is hoarse, cracked. "I didn't mean to... What I said wasn't right. You're right, I don't know anything. And I... I'm an asshole when I get angry, I say things I don't mean to."

You look at him, your eyes red. Your chest rises and falls unevenly. He takes a step, then another. He takes your face in his hands, his fingers rough but light. He wipes away the last of your tears with the back of his hand.

"Next time I ask you to do something, do it. You know how easily I get angry and I don't want that to happen again." You stand there, breathing hard, shaking; then you let go. You rest your forehead against his chest and stay still, eyes closed. And he holds you, without speaking.

[xoshize]

Where the cold cannot reach

"I built a place inside me - small, quiet, warm. That’s where you live now. Where the cold cannot reach."

☆ Listening to "All of me" by John Legend while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Jon Snow x fem reader (18+).

Warnings: none.

Synopsis: hot bath together.

Author's note: hey guys, it's been a long time since I last updated you but it's been a very stressful time. I've been rewatching the series lately and I had to write something for Jon Snow! I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

The warm water slides over you slowly, silently... like a caress. It's a heat that melts your shoulders, your neck, your thoughts. It steams under the flickering light of the torches and then you hear the footsteps... light, slow. There's no rush, it's him.

Jon enters the tub without saying a word, as if he also respects that silence. The water reaches his chest, the muscles of his back move under his wet skin and you look at him without shame. There's no more of it now. You've already overcome the hard part or maybe it's yet to begin.

His hair is loose, a little wet from the steam and his gaze always seems to think too much and speak too little. He looks at you, he doesn't say anything yet, but you understand... you're the one who broke the ice he carries inside.

He sits next to you and the water sways between you. His legs brush yours, but you don't move away. "I didn't know a place like this existed," he says softly "Me neither" you answered. Your heart is beating fast and your breathing is short. For a while there is only the sound of water dripping from a stalactite.

The orange light of the torches outlines his profile: dark eyes, focused, but less hard than usual. "I thought nothing would ever make me forget the cold of the North," he says, looking at the water. "I was wrong." He lifts his face, meeting yours.

His hand finds you under the water and his fingers search for yours, hesitate for a second, then intertwine. He no longer seems like a commander, or a bastard, or a warrior. Just a man. A man who trusts. You.

"Jon," you whisper, and you don't need to say anything else. He understands, always. The two of you move closer slowly. His breathing mixes with yours. His lips touch yours as if he's afraid of waking you from a dream. But you're awake, more than you've ever been.

It's slow... deep. There's nothing urgent, just need. Calm, inevitable... as if he had been waiting for it for days, or forever. His forehead rests on yours. His fingers explore your skin carefully, with respect. He stops only when his eyes meet yours, seeking your permission. You give it to him with a nod, with a sigh, with another kiss.

No one speaks anymore, there is no need. And there, in the heart of the North, you find a fragment of something fragile but real. Something that no one can take away from you.

[xoshize]

Hello guys, I know it's been a long time since I posted and I'm sorry. I've been really busy these weeks and I was too tired both physically and mentally to do pretty much anything.

As I wrote, I got the book and I have to say it's nothing short of amazing! I'm reading it like crazy. Other than that, I'll post something about Jon Snow (After June 21st because I'm on vacation now) since I'm rewatching the series!

Thanks and bye!

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

[xoshize]

The price of silence

"The price of silence is knowing what you could’ve said… and didn’t."

☆ Listening to "Cellophane" by FKA Twigs while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Thranduil x fem lover reader (18+).

Warnings: manipulative behaviour, angst.

Synopsis: you're tired of your relationship being hidden and so he's trying to make you change your mind.

Author's note: here I am again with a new character! I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, sorry. Ever since I saw The Hobbit a couple of years ago, I couldn't help but think about Thranduil for the following weeks, so here is my first post about him. I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The room is silent as always, but this time the silence weighs on you. It has become a cage, no longer a refuge. You are there, sitting on that bench with your hands cold and intertwined, while you wait for the sound of his footsteps. You wait, even if every part of you would like to be somewhere else.

When he enters, he does it with that grace that belongs to him, as if the entire world has to stop as he passes. He gives you that half smile that has always worked, he comes closer, and like every evening, he reaches out to your face.

But this time you pull back. It is not anger, it is just pain. He stops, his gesture suspended in the air "What’s happening?" he asks softly but you can’t answer right away. You swallow, but your throat hurts and when you speak, your voice comes out thin, cracked.

"I can’t do it anymore Thranduil" your gaze clouds "To always be hidden. This secret that lives only in these four walls" he watches you, his eyes slightly half-closed, alert like a hunter who has realized that the prey is about to escape. But he doesn’t say anything. Not right away.

Then, when he sees your chin shaking and the first tear rolling down your cheek, he comes closer. Slowly, with the calm of someone who already knows what to do. He lifts your chin with two fingers, and his eyes meet yours. You try to look away, but he won’t let you.

"Don’t cry" he murmurs, his voice is low, sweet, almost hypnotic. "You know I could never do this with anyone else. It’s just you, you always have been" more tears fall faster this time. You try to turn away, but he holds your face in his hands with light force.

"I keep you here because it’s the only place where I can have you without compromising you. Because out there… out there are eyes that would devour you, mouths that would speak, and I don’t want the world to ruin you".

"But you’re ruining me" you whisper, but your voice has no strength left. It’s just a broken moan. He caresses your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb "No, I’m protecting what matters most to me. If only you knew how hard it is for me. To rule, to decide, to defend you… and to love you".

Those last words hit you as always. He says them with a certainty that takes your breath away, even now, even now when you should be stronger. "You believe me, right?" he asks softly, his gaze fixed on yours "Do you know how much you mean to me?"

And you look at him. You look at his eyes that know you all too well, his hands that tremble slightly as they touch you. And despite everything, despite your will, your anger, your pain… you give in. Not with words. But you do it with silence.

With the way you don't move when he holds you. With the way you close your eyes while he kisses your forehead. With the way you lean against his chest, even if inside you feel like you're turning off a part of you.

It's not peace. It's tiredness. And while he holds you tight, you think that maybe tomorrow will be different. That maybe tomorrow you'll have the strength not to give in. But tonight… tonight you're just a tired woman, kept hidden from the world, and embraced by someone who knows exactly how to keep you close without ever letting you go.

[xoshize]

Hello guys, how are you? I wanted to let you know that these last few days I've been busier than usual, especially studying, and so I don't have much time to write (But don't worry, I'll try as soon as I can).

Besides that, for my birthday I'm going to buy the first book of the Game of Thrones saga and I'm so excited! I always thought it was too long to read after watching the tv series but after reading the excerpt on Amazon Kindle, I finished those 100 free pages right away! I can't wait to have it in my hands and read it!

Thanks and see you!

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance:)

[xoshize]

Don't cry darling

"Don’t cry, darling. The world may be cruel, but I never will be."

☆ Listening to "Stay with me" by Sam Smith while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Cregan Stark x young fem reader (18+).

Warnings: angst.

Synopsis: Cregan comforts you after some boys tease you.

Author's note: I always thought Cregan was a very generous man, and if he saw his wife/girlfriend crying, he would immediately worry. I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Your hands cling to him for comfort, as if letting go would mean you’d collapse entirely. Cregan holds you tightly, but not too tightly. He’s warm, firm, like a father with his daughter. His fur cloak wraps around you as he pulls you against his chest.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’m here" he repeats, and his voice is the deep low tone of a Northern man, but now it’s laced with softness. His thumbs gently wipe away your tears, brushing your hair away from your face.

You can’t answer right away. The lump in your throat tightens more than the words of the boys who have mocked you, who have made you feel out of place, fragile, different. Maybe it’s just because it’s you. You feel even smaller, and he seems so firm, so distant from the pain that consumes you.

"Who were they?" he asks then, with a calmness so intense it makes you shiver. There’s a promise in his question, and you know Cregan well enough to know that he always keeps his promises.

You shake your head against his chest. You don’t want to name names. You don’t want to seem weak but he holds you tighter, almost as if to tell you that there’s no shame in pain.

"They shouldn’t let that happen again" he finally murmurs, and you feel the anger beneath his skin "I swear no one will ever say bad things to you again as long as I’m breathing."

He pulls away a little, enough to see your face. His blue eyes, cold as winter, seem clearer now. He looks at you for a long time, and then adds in a firm voice "Promise me that you’ll always tell me when something happens. You don’t have to go through this alone."

His words surprise you, comfort you, hurt you in a strange way because you’re not used to someone taking your pain upon themselves. You look at him, your eyes still swollen from crying, and for a moment you forget everything else: there’s only him.

[xoshize]

Cregan Stark NSFW alphabet

Pairing: Cregan Stark x fem/wife reader (18+).

Warnings: a lot, I don't like writing them down because I already know I'll forget some.

Author's note: I admit I would have preferred to write this first as an introduction to the character as I imagine him (But things went differently hahah). Thanks for your attention and I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

I think Cregan is the type to ask you right after if you're okay, I mean he's much bigger than you and most likely when he's about to come he can't control himself and might leave bruises. If that was the case, he would immediately caress the area gently "Why didn't you tell me before?" he would say, looking at you with worried eyes. The next day, before you wake up, he would go ask the maester for a lotion. Aside from that, he would definitely prepare a warm bath for the two of you, just to relax your sore muscles.

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

A = aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

B = body parts (Their favorite body parts of theirs and also their partner’s)

Cregan's favorite body parts might be his shoulders and arms. Come on, he's a guy who gets turned on when you grab his shoulders for support or when you can't help but stare at his biceps.

Yours are definitely your eyes and hands. He loves your gaze, lost in love with him, and your hands are so much smaller than his that he could cover them with just one of his (and if they're big, don't worry, he'll love them just as much).

C = cum (Anything to do with cum)

So, I guess he definitely comes inside you almost all the time, although sometimes he prefers to come on your stomach to show you how well disposed he is, just to make you forget about all the other men that have ever crossed your mind.

D = dirty secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

If I'm being honest, I don't know what dirty secret Cregan has. I mean, I'm sure he has one but I don't know what it is. Maybe it could be to fuck you on the barrier, just to make you feel the chill of the cold and the heights as well as the fear of not knowing what's on the other side of the barrier except death.

E = experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Wow, Cregan is definitely experienced and definitely knows what he's doing. How can a man that powerful not know how to have sex, come on, we're kidding ourselves. And then he has ten children (Ten children, you heard me right!) and I really don't think he's the type to get drunk and have sex when he comes back from a dinner, he has to be careful what he does and he has to be sober every moment he does it with you, to savor you at the best.

F = favorite positions

Cregan's favorite position is missionary, you can't tell me this man doesn't love eye contact while he fucks you. He also loves cowgirl, the way your hips move drives him crazy (He'll let you do it especially when he's tired, which is most of the time given his job). Another position is from behind, he loves to push your head into the mattress while he's practically leaning on you.

G = goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?)

He's definitely a serious man in bed, sex for him is a serious thing, like a ceremony. Probably a mischievous smile every now and then, looking at you with practically tears in your eyes.

H = hair (How well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

Absolutely yes, I don't think he shaves except for his beard, it keeps him warmer that way, right? and it's the same with you, he doesn't care that much. The hair definitely match the drapes since he has dark hair.

I = intimacy (How are they during the moment?)

I'm sure that during the act, he is very attentive (As I said before). He talks to you and reassures you most of the time, kissing your neck and leaving little hickeys to show all the other men that in the end you are his. He will always ask you if you want or not to do something, to give you the best of pleasure.

J = jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

In my opinion Cregan is not one to masturbate, I mean, he has you! why would he do it if he knows that you will practically always please him.

K = kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink absolutely all his life, he has 10 kids! I mean, how could he not like it. The fact of imagining you with a nice belly drives him crazy.

Size kink it's no joke either, he loves comparing you to himself, noticing how much smaller you are.

L = location (Favorite places)

I think Cregan Stark has only one favorite place, the bedroom. He is a man of honor and I don't think he would want to do it anywhere other than the bedroom. Honor aside, I don't think he even likes the idea of ​​doing it anywhere else except the barrier (Which will most likely remain just a dream). I think he is the type of person who requires a lot of privacy and would prefer to take his time with you.

M = motivations (What turns them on, gets them going)

His motivations for keeping him going and getting him turned on are two: seeing you play with children and the way you treat them, knowing that every man in Winterfell doesn't stand a chance with you.

N = no (Something they wouldn’t do)

What he would definitely never do is force you to do something you don't want to do, he's too good of a man/husband.

O = oral (Preference in giving or receiving)

I think Cregan likes both, but I'd say receiving more. Feeling your mouth around his cock drives him completely crazy but when he does it to you, he loves it too much when you put your hands in his hair and throw your head back in pleasure.

P = pace (Are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Cregan is a guy who usually does it slowly and sensually, giving you pleasure little by little. Sometimes though, when maybe you make him nervous or jealous, he would grab your arm "That's enough" he would say and immediately take you to the bedroom. He would make you understand why you did something wrong and the fact that you should never do it again if you don't want to see this side of him again.

Q = quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often)

As I've said a couple of times, Cregan likes to take his time so he won't do anything hastily.

R = risk (Are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Cregan wouldn't risk being caught by other people, he doesn't want to lose his dignity so easily (What would the people think if they found out? is the Lord of Winterfell the kind of person who does it wherever he likes? what would they think of his wife? no, no, he would never allow that.)

S = stamina (How many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He could last for 2 or 3 rounds, it depends if he is too tired or if he put too much effort in the previous one. Besides that, it also depends on you, how far can you push it? whatever the answer will be, he will satisfy you in some way.

T = toys (Do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely not, I don't think there were any sex toys back then hahah (If there were, the answer is the same, no. He prefers to please you with his body, no extraneous stuff)

U = unfair (How much they like to tease)

Cregan doesn't look like a guy who teases you, I mean, being Lord of Winterfell and then teasing you makes him look like a child and he doesn't like that. He has to look like a serious man, who just gets annoyed by these little games.

V = volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Cregan could be quite loud during the act. He would let out little moans of pleasure, closing his eyes. Of course, not so loud that other people would hear it... he could never forgive himself for that. He only lets himself go when he is with you so I must say that is a good sign of trust on his part (He doesn't always appear so weak).

W = wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

I think Cregan would love to take you to a hidden place, one that only he knows about. On horseback together, you ride to a small pond with dark water. Under a beautiful weeping willow tree you lie down next to each other and you would talk about anything, read books or he would even let you fight him with a wooden sword (A real sword would be too dangerous for you hahah, he would be more afraid for you than for him).

X = x-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well come on, we all know that under all that dressing gown there are two powerful shoulders and a beautiful v line (I also imagine a happy trail up to... you get the idea).

Y = yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It depends, there are times when he can't stand talking to other men in the council and listening to the same old complaints from the citizens every single day and so he has to vent some tension... so be prepared when you see him coming into the room with a hand on his neck and a huff. Other times he does it for the pure pleasure of doing it, or he sees it in your eyes when you want him.

Z = zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Right away, as soon as he finishes bathing with you or five minutes after he regains his breathing. He would get comfortable with one hand on your belly, gently massaging the area until his movements stop, then you turn around and see him already snoring deeply (What an old man).

[xoshize]

After a long day

"After a long day, I light a candle, open the window, and let the night breathe for me."

☆ Listening to "All I want" by Kodaline while writing this. ☆

Pairing: Cregan Stark x wife reader (18+).

Warnings: none.

Synopsis: sweet moment before sleep.

Author's note: so, I know I said it would take a while to come out but in these two days I had some time to manage to write this short thought. I hope you like it!

The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).

Minors must not interact (MDNI).

If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so! I will try to accommodate you according to my guidelines.

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Under the fur blankets you nestled next to Cregan, resting your small hand on his bare chest. You could feel his heart beating and his body was so warm it made you forget you were in the North, in such a cold place. With your fingers you played with his necklace, huffing.

"What is it my love?" Cregan murmurs, moving a lock of hair from your face and looking at you softly. His voice was like a lullaby, making you close your eyes for a few seconds. "I'm tired" you whisper, stilling the movement of your fingers. All the weight of the day seems to magically vanish when you're with him.

"It's been a hard day, you know?" he caresses your face, before moving his thumb over your lower lip. "I can imagine..." of course he can imagine, what you do can never be on his level; being Lord of Winterfell. His calloused fingers move higher, touching your eyebrow. "You have such beautiful eyes..." he always repeats it to you, whenever he can.

You place your hand on his "I love you" you say as he gets so close that you can feel his breath on your face "I love you too". You lick your lips, feeling the skin become soft and a moment later his lips are on yours.

He pulls away slightly, smiling. "My sweet wife" he murmurs, finding a more comfortable position between the pillows. You lean against him, your head on his chest, his fingers playing with your hair until your eyes close.

[xoshize]

Hello everyone, how are you? I wanted to let you know that I'm new here! (I mean, I've had tumblr for about two years but I've never written anything hahah) so I wanted to start doing something.

As you can see my home page is based on House Stark, actually on Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon in general (But that doesn't mean I don't want to write for other characters too!) and for this reason you can already understand what I want to write about at the moment.

For now, I have some ideas in mind, but I first have to look around to see how to write in a "decent" way if I can say so but mostly manage to make the posts aesthetically nice! later on maybe I'll change the home page too, because I haven't figured out how to add certain things yet!

Most likely my first fanfic will take a while to be ready (I think I'll do some blurbs at the beginning, so nothing too complicated) but I promise I'll put all my effort into it! I'm a bit busy at the moment so I don't have much time, but since summer holidays are coming up soon, I'll be more active.

Thanks for your time and see you!

English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)