Honestly what I'm looking for in OC interactions is to find other people who go hard as hell
Gimme those complex backstories, gimme nightmare-mode shipping where they gotta overcome their baggage and their faults and their flawed coping mechanisms to earn their happy ending
Given half a chance, I'll drown us both in writing and art and things that remind me of Them and sobbing at 4am over fictional people and it is glorious
But it all starts with small interactions! If you're wondering if you should try, the answer is yes! If I post an ask meme, it is open fucking season lmao, shoot your shot if you want to! (But only if you want to!)
true facts with mun frost: when i see these high quality blogs with these well thought out muses i heckin’ panic. and when i don’t know their source for canon muses i’m like o shit.
ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)
heyyy silly idea that's been spinning around in my head for a while
spencer and garcias childhood bsf reader?
cause I can just imagine penny watching both of them pine for each other and trying to set them up....
idk if this is in the realm of what you normally write so you can just ignore this or add on if you like <3
𝜗𝜚 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑴 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑺𝑨𝑫...
summary : you're incredibly different from your best friend, penelope. yet there's nothing you wouldn't do for her, even if it includes facing your struggles... and the intimidating FBI
word count : 0.6k
pairings : spencer reid x journalist/garcia's bsf reader
warnings : hints of spencer but no direct appearance or dialogue (yet !) this part serves as background
notes : eeeeek first part is here ! somehow i'm very inspired and decided to turn this into my first ever series !! i'm sooo excited - reblog and lmk if you'd like to be on the tag list
glitter and sparkles.
a ray of sunshine seeping through the cracks of the cold, cold earth. a warm feeling blooming in your chest, smiles with teeth and embraces so tight that the air gets knocked out of your lungs.
those are words you'd use to describe your beloved best friend, whose radiance no amount of metaphors would ever substitute.
penelope was like a sister. an overly protective sister you would never directly compliment knowing it would get to her head, but a sister nevertheless.
perhaps the unexplainable bond that had formed between you was fate, maybe it was just luck. whatever where the intentions, you knew the growing friendship that you'd shared all these years had done a lot to both of you.
and even if they were some things you still didn't understand about her life choices - like her love for colors you judged too bright and sometimes overly eccentric fashion sense - the biggest unanswered question you'd never dare to ask her was even more enigmatic :
why the the FBI of all places ?
why had she, the most dazzling girl whose spark had already harshly been taken away by the cruelty of her parents' loss, chosen to work around death and surround herself with things you could never protect her from ?
right, cause this is what you hated the most, deep down. how different you were from her, from this, the people she surrounded herself with wether it was willingly or not.
you were a loner, a girl who preferred living in her daydreams rather than face reality.
socializing didn't come to you the way it did for her. you didn't need to, when penelope was by your side to order your coffee and without any hesitation, tell the barista they'd messed up your drink.
you didn't wear your heart on your sleeve, nor easily open up to people the way she did.
sometimes, when you thought the gap between you was getting too wide, she would playfully roll her eyes and remind you that there's nothing wrong with being an introvert, and i wish i could shut up too one of these days, did i tell you about the time i flirted with chocolate thunder with the phone on speaker ?
oh, how perfect she was at making people feel better. and if you felt unique with her, she apparently had a friend at work that reminded her of you.
as if that would leave you feeling better about your case.
it didn't matter what you thought about her job, or how much you'd rather stay in the comfort of your home than step through the gates of the buzzing headquarters of the FBI on this grey saturday morning.
for once, she'd been the one to reach out for help. for once, there was something you could do for the girl who spent her days casually saving people behing the screen of her magical computer.
[8:07] penny : SOS !!! stands for SAVE OUR SATURDAY.
[8:07] penny : our newest case involves a writer unsub. their writing is terrible before you ask, but we need an expert and i might've told hotch & papi rossi i knew someone who could help...
[8:10] penny : i'll bribe you with cookies. extra chocolate chips.
so, you did what any good friend would do.
put on your dark brown jacket, laced up your boots and tried, for once, to blend in in a place that offered nothing for people like you. not for the sake of the saccharine reward, but because this was for you.
because let's face it, penelope was right. books weren't people and fictional characters werent friends. the real world awaited, and you couldn't let her down by refusing the one thing you excelled at.
one of many, perhaps.
and even if life wasn't one predictable story, maybe - like she always joked about during your romcom movies nights, right during the love declaration scene you usually melted at - the prince charming of your fairytale was real and closer than you'd expect.
you just had to turn the page, and start a new chapter.
༉‧₊˚. taglist : lmk if you wanna be added/taken off
Epitome: A slight crush on a gym guy. While having a sweet boyfriend. A crush that turns into mutual obsession. And the guy turns out to be.. your boyfriend's best friend?
Warnings: Smut, very little plot, oral (f. receiving), handjob, clit-play, nipple play (if that is even a thing..idk?) unprotected sex — wrap it before you tap it ya’ll, threesome, infidelity, tension, let me know if I missed anything!!
Pairing: Softdom!Hyunjin x sub!reader x softdom!changbin.
This work contains graphic content (smut) that is not suitable for some readers. Minors do not interact.
You woke up from your dream — which felt a little more of a nightmare. Wait, why was he everywhere in your dreams?
The guy from the gym.
You only saw him once, and now he somehow managed to occupy every single thought in your mind.
This is so wrong. Very very wrong. You had a boyfriend. Kind, smart, handsome, talented. The type of boyfriend every girl wishes for in her life. He loved you, made you feel the spark like you were some kind of a college girl dating for the first time. And yet your mind somehow drifted to the guy in the gym you barely had a conversation with.
His presence was never loud or attention-seeking. Yet whenever someone entered the gym, they would look at him naturally. He carried a certain aura, intimidation, and confidence. Quite a contrast to your loving and sweet boyfriend of three years.
The dreams started slowly, without you realizing it. At first, it was normal. You chatting with him, or some sort of random activity like noticing him in another familiar place.
They later grew.. Inappropriate. Shared close proximity, intimate moments, everything that screamed wrong.
There were a few moments of interaction that fueled your sexually charged dreams of him. Moments that seemed normal for others, yet for some reason made your heart race with excitement because it was him.
The one moment that’s stuck in your head for a long time is about a week ago.
The gym was loud with music, dumbbells clicking, gym-bros flexing muscles in front of the mirror like their life depended on it. Nothing out of the place. Until your gaze fixated on him.
You did not know his name, yet somehow your brain remembered everything about him. How his face scrunched up slightly while bench-pressing, how the beads of sweat dripped from his forehead all the way to his jawline, how his torso strained against the compressed shirt he wore to the gym, how his adam’s apple would bob while lifting heavy weights.
He wore a sleeveless black shirt that day. Unhealthy for your sanity apparently, when his biceps were on full display while you tried — and failed, to not ogle at him.
He was nearby. Existing and drinking water, while you were completing your last rep on the seated cable row. Did he stand nearby to distract you? You wondered. And before you knew it, your hand twisted slightly while pulling the weighed cable.
"Be careful."
He warned, holding your hand gently. He was behind you in an instant to correct your form, close enough to feel his presence, as he guided your grip.
Was he doing this on purpose? Does he correct every other girl’s form so closely?
And while it may seem normal for everyone else, it — once again — was not normal for your mind.
He backed off as soon as he corrected, making sure to keep a good distance between the two of you. After all that intimacy, you thought.
"I'm Seo Changbin, by the way. " He introduced himself.
"Oh. Okay." You shook him off, thinking that you did a good job at acting unbothered.
"Thought you'd want to know after staring at me since the past few weeks."
No shit. What a tease.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
Turns out the Seo Changbin guy was your boyfriend’s best friend.
And oh boy was he a provocative menace after knowing his best buddy is your boyfriend.
The day you got to know it was the day of your doom. Hyunjin, your sweet boyfriend of — three years — had reminded you that his best friend would be visiting and he would be a little late. You were alright with that because you’ve met his other friends before — Chan, Felix, Yeji, and everyone else.
“He might stay for dinner too, so please make dinner for three okay? He’ll love your cooking.” And oh how could you say no to your doting boyfriend? So you prepared dinner and tidied up the house. And to say you were in shock would be an understatement when you saw someone you didn’t want to see, in front of your shared apartment’s door.
Seo Changbin.
The guy you shared glances that spoke too much.
The guy who appeared in your wet dreams.
The guy who knew he was testing your boundaries in the goddamn gym and was enjoying it.
“Uhm..?” You mustered up a polite, tight smile waiting for him to clarify as to why exactly he was at your doorstep at 7 in the evening.
“This is Hwang Hyunjin’s apartment I suppose?” He raised a brow, a subtle amusement laced in his intonation. And thank the universe when you noticed your boyfriend approaching. Changbin followed the direction of your gaze, and hugged Hyunjin just as he saw his friend.
The next few hours were.. awkward. For you, at the very least.
And Changbin liked to poke your boundaries too — which made the case worse. For example, He sat beside you on the couch — closer than necessary, while Hyunjin went to the kitchen to bring wine for the three of you. His arm on the head of the couch, behind you. Not quite touching, but still a presence to remind you.
You didn’t shift away.
That was the issue.
Changbin pretended he did not know you. He introduced himself formally and smiled like it was your first time meeting and seeing each other. It was not.
He left a little later that day, and you knew this was not good. Whatever was approaching ahead was gonna be wrong.
So wrong.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
Hyunjin was not clueless.
Sure, he acted stupid sometimes, but not clueless. And he definitely felt the tension during his girlfriend and bestfriend’s interaction, no matter how chill they pretended to be on the outside. And he was.. not insecure about it. Instead, he found it interesting — like a game. He was so invested in this game.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
Ever since then, Changbin would visit your place often. And you start to get more and more comfortable in the shared space, because he would sometimes stay the night over. For you, it started to become a regular thing. But for Changbin? He was now infatuated with you.
Seeing you in short skirts, tight tops, or just Hyunjin’s shirt with nothing below was making it harder for him to think straight around you. Oh, and he didn’t seem to be interested in fixing the problem.
He liked to have you around. Because you looked pretty. His gaze lingered longer than it should have. Not on your face. And he didn’t bother hiding it anymore.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
The tension grew as days and interactions passed by and he was getting more and more attracted to you. His actions weren’t inappropriate.
They were.. lingering.
Arms brushing even when there was enough space to walk through. A hand on your waist a second too long. Knuckles brushing on your hip-bone.
Enough to make you think about it.
Not enough to make you call it out.
You could’ve told Hyunjin about it. You didn’t.
There were a few moments you wish to not recall. Moments that felt.. As if you were doing something wrong.
“You two seem to get along well.” Hyunjin once mentioned, tone light and playful. His eyes weren’t.
You couldn’t understand if it was a question or a confrontation.
Changbin just smirked at his friend’s statement.
The breaking point was approaching. You felt it in the air. Because every time you and Changbin made contact, neither one of you would drift away. The pull was magnetic, even when your boyfriend was around.
Once you were at the dining table, organizing the flower pot when Hyunjin went out to bring groceries. And Changbin apparently was again left alone, with you.
He called you. You turned around, and he was close. He spoke up with a voice too quiet, too serious — a starking contrast to his sly, light tone.
“You’re not even trying to avoid it.”
“Avoid what?” You questioned back, holding eye contact.
“Whatever we had. Or have right now.”
You averted your gaze.
“He sees it, you know.”
You didn’t know what to respond with. So you opted for the best option — to walk away.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
You and Hyunjin were cuddling one normal evening. All sweets and giggles, he was tickling you, and you were laughing hard. He stopped after a while, pulling you closer.
“You trust me, right?”
A question that lingered in your mind, longer than necessary. Not accusatory, not doubting. Just.. placed. Like he gave you a hint that could unravel all of your doubts.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
“Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Changbin speaks up. He had you caged between his arms, locked. Not permitting you to run away this time. He was close. Leaned closer. Your breaths mingled. You were living your dream — but it was wrong.
Wrong because you have a boyfriend.
Wrong because Hyunjin was in the next room. Sleeping peacefully.
Wrong because this was your boyfriend’s best friend.
The silence stretched like a thin wire about to snap, after being pulled for a long time.
And yet, despite the hesitation visible in your eyes, you closed the gap between the two of you. It was slow, neither rushed, nor confident.
Your lips met his in a way that felt wrong from the very first second — wrong and overdue. There was a brief pause, like both of you were waiting for the other to pull away and end this all.
Neither of you did.
His hand tightened slightly at your waist, not pulling you closer — just enough to make sure you stayed.
That was all it took.
The hesitation cracked.
The kiss deepened slowly, like testing something risky. Careful at first, uncertain, your breath catching when he shifted just enough to press closer.
Your fingers curled into his shirt without thinking, grounding yourself in something real, something you could blame.
You could hear your heartbeat, it was too loud, too fast and uneven — you were afraid he might hear it.
Or maybe that was just your guilt catching up.
For a second, your mind flickered—
Hyunjin.
The next room. Unaware of what the two of you were doing. You should’ve pulled away then. But instead, you kissed him harder. Like drowning. Like proving something you didn’t want to say out loud.
His hand slid slightly, barely there, but enough to make your breath hitch into the kiss. He exhaled softly against your lips, something quieter than his usual teasing—something almost… relieved.
You broke the kiss first.
Not because you wanted to.
Because you had to.
Your gaze dropped immediately, anywhere but him, your breathing uneven, your lips still tingling like they didn’t get the message yet.
And even then, he didn’t say anything.
Didn’t move away.
Just looked at you.
That’s when he noticed.
And when you followed his gaze—
Hyunjin.
He was there.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
You swear a moment ago you were caught by Hyunjin when you kissed Changbin.
How did you end up sandwiched between your boyfriend and his best friend?
Hyunjin was behind you, guiding Changbin through your body. You hadn't drank any alcohol or liquor, yet it felt like you were high, on cloud nine or shit.
You could never in your wildest dreams have imagined that Seo Changbin would be on his knees, just to pleasure you when your boyfriend, Hyunjin caressed you, guiding his best friend.
And yet, here you were. On the edge of the bed, Hyunjin’s chest acting as a support for your back while Changbin took his time to undress your bottoms agonizingly slowly. He was having real fun teasing you.
Changbin removed your shorts first — kissing all the way from your knees to your upper thighs. Stopping exactly near your heat.
“We haven't even started yet bunny, and you’re soaking.”
Changbin spoke up, definitely in a mocking way. You knew this didn’t make sense — they had asked only for your consent before starting. Yet you didn’t care, not in the moment at least.
He harshly sucked a few purple marks and licked it softly, on the inside of your thigh. Oh they would be hurting later on.
All while Hyunjin fondled with your bra-covered breasts. It felt slightly uncomfortable due to the rough material of the pink lace bra inside your top, but the friction was stimulating nonetheless.
They both started extremely slow and gentle at first — no fighting for dominance, just wanting to make you feel loved. But it all started getting slightly messy when Changbin finally discarded your panties haphazardly in some corner of the room.
You were glistening wet under the soft lighting in the dimly lit bedroom. Changbin’s breath fanned over your cunt, the hole fluttering around nothing in response. His gaze drifted up to your face, only to find you looking at him. He maintained eye contact and licked your clit — to which your hips bucked instantly. He wrapped his lips around your bud, sucking it like a candy.
You whimpered in a pitch so high you weren’t even worried about the neighbours hearing you.
Your head was thrown back on Hyunjin’s shoulder, as his hands massaged your breasts. He unhooked your bra and threw it somewhere, pinching both of your nipples and twisting them while Changbin switched from sucking your clit to kitten-licking your entrance. You whined in overstimulation, hands pulling Changbin’s hair while the other kneaded on Hyunjin’s thigh like a cat.
“Hyun.. ‘s too muchh — nghh..”
You whined, to which Hyunjin kissed you. His kiss was soft, gentle, familiar — a contrast to his ministrations on your breasts.
You feel his breathing get uneven every time you let out even a small whimper. You had that effect on him, as per his say.
Changbin pulled away with a plop! sound, replacing his mouth with two of his fingers, and you swear you saw stars when his thick fingers stretched you out in an indescribable way. He curled them, going knuckle-deep, making a “come hither” motion trying to reach your sweet spot.
Your hands were replaced from his head to his biceps — his thick, veiny biceps. Nails digging into his arms, while Hyunjin held your thighs apart, prohibiting them from closing together. You were stuck in the best way possible, and you were loving every moment of it.
“Love how my buddy’s making you feel?”
Hyunjin asked, leaving soft kisses on your neck while Changbin sucked on your nipple. You were too far in the wrong now, and there’s no going back to the rational way. You nodded in pleasure, and just as he reached the sweet spot that made your mind falter, Changbin pulled his fingers out, and you whined in annoyance.
“So desperate for my fingers? Don’t want my cock to stretch you out?”
He teased, and you nodded in ‘no’.
“Who do you want first, me or him?”
Changbin asked. This felt like one of the most difficult questions to even answer, and the frown your face adorned said it all. This was wrong, very much wrong. Yet it felt—
“Say it quick baby. Don’t wanna keep us waiting, hm?”
Hyunjin spoke up, and you pointed at Changbin, with a slight pout on your face. Changbin just smirked, and it was until he removed his shirt that you realised you were the only one naked between two men who worshiped your body, with their clothes still on. Unfair, but still hot.
You reached to unbuckle Changbin’s belt while he removed his shirt, and he chuckled seeing you struggle pulling his belt out.
“So desperate for my cock bunny?”
Hyunjin chuckled at Changbin’s statement, his hands wandering south to mindlessly play with your clit. He was hard, and you felt him throb behind you every time you let out a sound.
Hyunjin. He’s right there—
Changbin was huge, and it was even more obvious the second he removed his boxers. He was not long like Hyunjin, but he was definitely girthy. You reached out, gently stroking in a testing way as the precum oozed out from the tip. He felt heavy in your hands, precum acting as a lubricant. His breathing grew ragged, hips bucking in your grip every time you rubbed his tip with your thumb.
Hyunjin continued his ministrations on your cunt, spreading your labia and entering just enough to make your breathing uneven as quiet gasps left your lips, but not quite reaching the point where you need it.
He didn’t look away. Not even once.
“F-fuck bunny..”
That was the first time you’ve heard his voice crack, and to your dismay, he pulled your hand away.
“I’d like to feel your pussy first, bunny.”
Changbin aligned himself to your entrance, looking up at you to make sure you’re okay. He rubbed the tip to your clit and your entrance, spreading and mixing both of your slicks.
“Bunny, are you sure you want this? Just tell me to stop and I will.”
Changbin checked up, which somehow made you even more wet. You nodded as a ‘yes’ enthusiastically, to which Changbin slapped his dick on your fluttering hole, a brow raised as he looked at you. The eye contact felt familiar, grounding you to the realization that Hyunjin was still here. And that somehow felt more intimate rather than a one-time thing.
“Use your words baby.”
Hyunjin whispered in your ear, licking and biting on the earlobe.
“Yes. Pleaseee hurry, need’chu in me—”
Changbin smirked at your plea, sliding his cock inside you slowly. The stretch hurted slightly, but it was nothing you couldn’t bear.
“Aaah fuckk— oh baby you’re..”
Changbin was losing his control, and you let out a loud moan when he finally bottomed out. He gripped on your waist harshly as if he would go insane from the tightness of your cunt, as he leaned his forehead to rest on your shoulder. You were clenching around him, growing more and impossibly more wet from the stimulation Hyunjin was giving you by his ministrations. Having four hands pleasuring you at the same time was overstimulating in the least.
Changbin pulled out till only his tip was inside you, and thrusted right inside immediately. He railed you, rearranging your insides as he threw your legs over his shoulders, bending forward slightly to reach impossibly deeper.
You were seeing stars, blabbering incoherent words, pleading for god knows what. Hyunjin kept on fondling and playing with your breasts, and after one particular thrust that made you whine in an even higher pitch, he reached lower to harshly rub and stimulate your clit. You were messed up in the best possible way — overstimulated, greedy for more, breathing ragged, whimpering and chanting Changbin’s name — making you cry for more.
Changbin felt you clenching uncontrollably around him, making him reach his high quicker. All the sass and dominance was forgotten the moment he felt you flutter around his shaft.
“Bunny, fu– ahhh, wait for me? Please– nghh”
His shallow breaths and desperation evident in his voice was what made you reach your climax quicker. You clenched around him, Hyunjin’s fingers working roughly to stimulate your clit, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body.
He’s still watching—
You came undone with Changbin still inside you, tip kissing your cervix as he chased his high. His thrusts grew frantic, hips stuttering while overstimulating you. Hyunjin slowed his rubs on your clit, riding you through your after-shocks.
“Q-quick bunny. Where?—”
And hearing no response from you, he pulled out suddenly, jerking off as he unloaded white spurts of cum, painting your stomach till your chest. He collapsed on you, breathing heavily as you both came back to reality.
┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈
The room felt quieter than it should have—not completely silent, but different in a way you couldn’t quite place. Like something had shifted, and none of you knew how to put it back where it belonged.
Your breathing was the first thing you became aware of, still uneven as your body tried to catch up with everything that had just happened. Then came the rest—the lingering warmth, the closeness, the sudden, overwhelming awareness of where you were and who you were with.
Too much awareness.
You didn’t move at first, not trusting yourself to without making it all feel more real than it already did.
Hyunjin’s arm was still around you, steady and familiar, grounding in a way that should have comforted you—but instead, it made your chest tighten. Changbin was still close, though he shifted slightly so you wouldn't feel his weight.
That was new.
No one spoke, and for a brief, fragile moment, it almost felt like if no one acknowledged it, maybe it wouldn’t exist at all.
Your gaze dropped to a random corner in your bedroom as you adjusted nothing in particular, just to give yourself something to focus on—something other than the silence stretching between the three of you.
“…You okay?”
Hyunjin’s voice broke through softly, careful in a way that felt almost too deliberate.
You nodded a second too quickly.
“Yeah.”
It came out quieter than you intended, like the word didn’t quite belong in the space you were in.
Changbin let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh, though it lacked any real humor. You couldn’t tell if it was tension or something else entirely.
You didn’t look at him.
You couldn’t.
Not yet.
Another pause followed, heavier this time, settling into the room like something tangible.
“We should—”
Hyunjin started, but the sentence never finished. It didn’t need to.
All three of you knew what he meant.
Talk about it. Define it. Decide whatever this was.
None of you did.
Changbin shifted slightly, leaning back just enough to create space, and somehow that made everything worse. Because now there was distance, and with it came the undeniable reality of what had just happened.
Your throat felt dry.
“This… doesn’t change anything,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. They sounded wrong immediately.
Hyunjin didn’t respond right away.
Changbin did.
“Doesn’t it?”
His voice was quiet this time, stripped off of its usual teasing edge, which only made it land harder.
You looked up then — another mistake.
Because the both of them were already looking at you. Not confused. Not regretful. Just… waiting. For your decision. Commitment. Anything.
That was the problem.
No one here was pretending it hadn’t happened.
And maybe, somewhere deep down—
You didn’t want to either.
Maybe you wanted both of them.
At the same time.
That’s what made it worse.
♡ Minnie's note: I had to drop this idk yall im hiding behind the curtains now BYE—
Cregan's mother scolds them again over the table as they try to eat. "No business over dinner!"
"Aunt Gilliane," his cousin sighs, "It's hardly business-"
Rickon comes to the defense from his spot as head of the table. "My wife said no business over dinner, and that means none!"
"Yes, sir."
Dinner continues silently.
Cregan would have done things differently than his father if given the chance. But one thing he always admired of the elder man was the devotion to his wife.
Rickon Stark loved his wife.
They fought in the entryway of the house many times. After Cregan was put to bed and they fooled themselves into believing he wouldn't hear it. Arguments about money and business. About Rickon's habit of keeping her away from it all.
He believed he was doing the best for her by holding her away from it. But he had seen the times she cried to herself. It seemed to only hurt her. And those tears would bubble into anger, and an argument was usually had the next day.
But their love was obsession.
And Cregan wanted something just like it.
It didn't feel healthy. And he wouldn't repeat the steps exactly alike. But he wanted it. He wanted it badly.
And if he was to take after his father, he'd need to manage it somehow.
…
After dinner was over, Rickon nudged his son towards his office.
The large doors shut with a menacing thud.
"Have I done something, father?"
Rickon sits in his chair, cringing as his old knees popped at the pressure. "No, boy. I actually have a job for ya to do tomorrow."
The man sits forward. "Alright?"
"There's two new shops opening up by the end of the week. I need ya to go inspect 'em. See what we're working with. The boys have been bugging me about hounding them from the get go." He huffs. "But I make the rules here. Not them. So, I'm sending you."
He nods along, hands folded in front of him. "To intimidate or…"
"Just to scout. Tomorrow, you're a customer. But meet the owners. I want detailed reports."
"Of course. I'll leave first thing in the morning."
"Good boy. Now, get to bed."
"Yes, father."
…
He had two businesses on his list— some kind of pop shop (rumors were that they sold scotch from the back door in the alley), and a little bakery at the corner.
He decided to start at the bakery.
The bells atop the door rang to announce his presence.
It was pretty small. A couple small tables. Only two booths. Clearly not expectant of a lot of customers. But it was decorated nicely. Cleanly.
He stood at the counter for a while, knuckles tapping against the surface impatiently.
He was surprised to see a young woman round the corner with a surprised expression herself. She rushed to the counter. "Forgive me. I didn't hear you come in, sir."
He was a Stark, and they weren't use to having to wait on others. So, while he figured he should be upset, he wasn't.
Mostly because she was far too pretty.
He felt entranced for a moment and forced himself to snap out. "Oh, uh- think nothing of it. Um… I was just passin' by and noticed your shop. This building has been empty for a few years so… nice to see it bein' used."
She hums. "Heard it took a lot to renovate it. But hopefully it pays off."
"Right, can be hard t- sorry. This isn't your business?"
"Oh, no, sir. I run it. But… no. I don't own it."
His brows pulled together. "Huh." He tries to pass off his far too inquisitive energy by looking over the pastries in the display. "These look nice."
She smiles at that. "I make them every morning."
He's actually surprised. "Every mornin'?" He whistles in an impressed manner. "You're a workin' girl, aren't you?"
She shrugs. "You could say so."
"Then tell me," he grins, "Which one should I get?"
She hums. "Well," she draws out, taking slow steps to the counter. "I made these scones this morning. They might still be warm, really. And then… the danishes are pretty good. But the muffins are what I'm best at. I think so, anyway. Oh, and the cinnamon rolls-"
"What are these down here?" He interrupts.
"Hm? Oh. Those are just vintage chocolate chip cookies. The owner told me to stop making t-"
"I'll take them."
Her head shot up. "What?"
He smiled. "You heard me. I said I'd take 'em."
"They're two days old, sir. They're nearing their date."
"That's fine. I'll eat them by the end of the day."
She considers it, then nods. "Alright." She begins the process she's still getting used to. Pull out a paper bag, get the clean tongs, make sure there are napkins in there— "How many do you want?"
He shrugs, fiddling with his rolled up sleeves. "All of 'em."
"What?"
"I said all of 'em."
She thought for a moment, debating whether to argue about it or not. Then, she nodded. "Alright."
She had to put the bag away and get out a box instead.
"Two and a half baker's dozens," She drawls out as she writes it neatly on the yellow paged guest check. She mumbles to herself for a moment before pulling the page off and taping it to the box. "Here you are, sir."
"Great." Cregan pulls out his wallet, fishing for which bills to give her. After all, he had quite a few in there. "What do I owe ya?"
"Oh," she flushed. "Nothing for these."
His eyes flicked up, head tilted. "Nothing?"
"They're nearing their date. And I'm not making any more of them so…"
"That's thoughtful. How much would they have been, though? I'm curious."
"Mmm," she looks down at her notepad. "A little shy of 35 dol-"
She cuts herself off at the sight of the 100 dollar bill that he's slid out from his wallet. He takes his time, knowing he has her attention. He grins as his fingers fold the bill a few times. He then leans against the counter and slides the bill into the empty tip jar.
She doesn't say anything for a while. "T-Thank you."
"Mhm. You need anything, you let me know."
He taps the counter as a goodbye and takes his box of cookies to the next place.
…
The Stark men lounge around the sitting room, discussing business in scattered voice. There's a general murmuring across the room as the many of them tell tales of their days.
And the open cookie box on the table lays empty.
"Wait wait," one of them spoke with a mouthful of cookie. "So he owns both places?"
Cregan nodded. "Real piece of work, that guy." He takes a bite of his cookie, "I believe the rumor about selling scotch out the back of the pop shop, though."
"Not the bakery?"
"Course not. It's his safe business. Got a pretty thing to keep things runnin' so he has a profit from there while he runs the pop shop himself across the street."
His cousin nodded. "Think we'll get a double share out of him?"
Cregan stands. "Doubt it. Seems like he's soaking in every penny he can. I need a damn smoke. You coming?"
The two break away to smoke cigars out back— away from the drama and their mothers' snide remarks about ruining their lungs.
…
He finds himself coming back to the bakery the next day. He didn't really plan to. He was more lost in thought and suddenly he found himself standing at the door.
And when he catches her eye through the glass, he couldn't make himself walk away if he tried. "Hi, sweetheart."
She's a bit more worn down than the day before. But her smile is still bright. "Good morning, sir."
He looks over the display before settling on a scone. She offers to warm it and he takes that time to settle at the small booth in the corner.
She brings it to him in a short timeframe, but he's already had time to pull the book out from his bag and begin to read.
He gives her a soft 'thank you,' eyes only peeking up when she turns back to continue her work.
Sure, he did want to read, but he spent most of the time then watching her.
He spent an hour in there that day, watching each move of hers with watchful eyes— both intimidating and admiring.
…
The two began to grow close. She didn't know anything about the Starks, nothing about what they do. She treated him… normally. And it was refreshing.
His family grew more and more curious about where the heir to the Stark family name was going everyday.
So, when Cregan walked into the shop on one particular morning, he was greeted with the sight of his family members scattered around the shop.
When Y/n rounded the corner, her eyes were a bit wide. Concern immediately pulled at his chest.
He tried to act normal, but that look was doing something to him.
And when he went to hand her cash for his pastry, she pulled him in over the counter a bit.
"They won't leave," she whispers.
Oh, she's scared.
He can't have that.
"Sweetheart, 's just m'family. They won't hurt you."
Like the curtain had been lifted, the tension lifted as his family realized all together what Cregan was doing here every day.
He liked the cute little worker.
…
And once the family realized that she was the one that had baked those delicious cookies, that was just one more reason to give the bakery their business.
They always left generous tips. Always gave her a knowing smile. Even tried to pry into her personal life with question. 'What's a girl like you doing here, hon?' 'You gotta a boyfriend?'
Even tried to talk her into quitting this job. 'We could getcha a job, toots.'
They'd never let her really get into the family business. But they could give her some side job. Something to keep her close without being in danger.
But she always politely declined.
She'd grown to remember each one's favorite pastry. It became commonplace to see two to three Starks in the shop a day.
"You know, he really likes you toots," Cregan's cousin grinned, leaning on the counter one day. "He doesn't show a lot of his feelings. But trust me."
That stuck with her.
…
And it was true. Cregan did like her. A lot.
He walked her home some nights. He couldn't sleep well on the nights he didn't.
It became an obsession. He wanted to know what she baked that day. Who she talked to. What she was thinking.
Those hands. Her lips. It felt unhealthy.
But he was happy.
Bring! Bring!
Cregan picked up his phone. "Talk."
It was his cousin. "That girl… at the shop."
He froze. "Yeah?"
"Uh… how do I say this… she politely kicked us out of the shop today."
"She what?"
"Said the boss was making her kick everyone out. Was just your ma and I."
"I'll stop by there. Thanks."
He'd never walked to fast in his life.
She was so sweet of a girl. What could make her do something like that?
He quietly opened the door, careful to not ring the bells on the top of it.
And he heard it.
Yelling.
"You know whose ass is on the line?!" The deep voice yelled. "Me! The fuck is wrong with you?"
"Sorry… so sorry," her shaky voice carried. "I didn't… I wasn't…"
"Didn't what? Didn't mean to? Well, it's too late for that! Now the Starks are onto me!"
He heard shuffling and some panicked whimpers. That was all he needed.
He quickly texted a code word to his cousin before stashing his phone away and marching into the kitchen.
He'd never been back behind the counter.
Y/n seemed like such an organized girl. Put together and cute. He assumed the kitchen would be the same if she was the one running it.
And it seemed it was like that at one point. Now? Things were thrown off the wall. Glass covered the ground in certain parts. A few dishes cracked from falling off the counter.
And there, the owner stood with his hand around her neck.
Cregan saw red immediately.
He rushed forward, seizing the man by the wrist and inserting himself between the two.
"I'd let her go," his voice growled.
The man's face flooded with panic, not expecting to be caught by a Stark.
As oxygen came back to her, she stumbled. She leaned against the kitchen island, gasping and coughing.
Cregan pulled the man in by the wrist and landed a heavy blow with his other hand.
But Cregan held on, refusing to let the man get far from him.
His left hand left bruises from how tight he was holding to this man as the right hand landed hit after hit.
"Cregan… CREGAN!" A voice called through the haze.
He snapped to.
He was straddling the man now. The pain in his hand finally tingled. The man's face was broken and bloodied.
Cregan turned.
There, his cousin held Y/n close. "The hell was all this?!"
"She alright?" Was the first thing out of Cregan's mouth.
"She's," his voice calmed, running a hand over Y/n's hair, "She's fine, man. What-"
"Don't wanna talk about it. C'mere," he called to her.
Y/n's teary eyes set on him. And like a floodgate, she rushed to him and began to weep into his chest.
He held her tightly, calming the storm in his mind.
His cousin frowned. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna call Uncle. Get this figured out. But she's staying with us tonight. I know that much."
…
Within the week, her boss had been outed for his scotch selling tendencies. Both the pop shop and bakery had closed.
But the bakery building was quickly bought.
By the Starks.
They gave her a starter fund, promised to stop by often. Even got her the apartment above it to live in. 'We take care of our own,' Rickon had said, or something like that.
It all didn't make much sense to her until Cregan finally asked her out.
"I'm no good at all this… romance stuff. But… I like ya." He took her hands in his. "I like ya a lot, sweetheart. And I care a lot about ya. I want you to do all the things you wanna do. Bake all the things you wanna bake. And I wanna try each one." He paused, "'s that make sense to you?"
She nodded, squeezing his hands.
"Good. I'll come pick ya up at 7."
"Cregan, the shop closes at 8-"
"Not anymore. You work too hard. Shop closes at 6."
She considered it. "But what about-"
"5 then."
"No, I mean-"
"I'll close it at 4," he warns.
"Stop, stop," she giggles. "I'll see you at 7."
He nods. "Wear something pretty, sweet girl. I'm gonna show you off tonight, huh?"
With a kiss to her hand, he left.
And she wore that same sweet smile for the rest of the day.
Hey, I wonder if it's possible to write something with Wanderer where the reader is almost an exact copy of him in terms of behaviour? To such an extent that at first he was irritated (not recognizing the familiar patterns), and then almost impressed.
I'm not sure what scenarios they would have met in, perhaps trying to hide from people in similar places, being assigned to work on a project together, or friends dragging them into playing cards. Just want to see how you see them interact: smut, fluff, angst, I don't care much, whatever you think is appropriate in your mind. Tnxx
Mirror image
Reader x Wanderer
CW: none? Idk if I can even classify this as fluff, Wanderer is very oblivious to his feelings, Reader is written as gender neutral
Going from disliking you to seeing himself in you almost gives him whiplash.
A/N: I feel like this is straight up ass
It was nice writing something non spicy though
Not proofread.
His special, quiet spot. The place he always fled to when akademiya life got to much, when the students got too annoying or pushy.
It was supposed to be secret, unreachable for most at the top of Sumeru city's high tree and yet here he is, staring at someone's form already occupying the very branch he usually sits on.
Features twist into obvious displeasure, a frown gracing his lips, eyes sharp as they glared at you.
"That's my spot. Move."
You turn to look at him, not moving an inch from your position, leaning back against the hard tree bark.
"I don't see your name anywhere near it."
Crossing your arms and swinging one leg over the other you make yourself cozy, closing your lids shut, straight up ignoring him.
Wanderers eyebrow twitches in irritation, how dare you?
He already had enough to tackle today and now he also has to deal with an annoying little pest.
If you weren't so high up he'd just push you off but he isn't looking to add more murder to his charges.
Out of spite he flies higher up, sitting himself on another of the trees many limbs, even if it's less comfortable.
Even from above you feel his death stare drill into your skull, when you look up you're met with indigo irises shooting imaginary poison at you.
And what do you do?
Stick your tongue out at him, not intimidated by the slightest by his scowl.
In fact you glare right back at him, unimpressed.
You'd drop dead if looks could kill.
Neither of you back down, staying in place until the sun sets in the distance, stubbornly refusing to leave.
The tension between the two of you is thick, even if no word is spoken.
You eventually climb down when darkness falls but now it's too late for him to even get any satisfaction out of staying longer, exhaustion creeping into his joints and mind.
Wanderer hoped that this was the end of it, a chance encounter but of course fate has never been kind to him.
Almost every day he'd see you, not even because you took his spot again but because you somehow keep running into each other.
Sethos dragged him to a student gathering? You're there.
Studying in the house of Daena? Sitting across from him is you.
Class? Placed next to you.
It's driving him insane, completely oblivious to how you're basically a mirror to his own behavior, as grumpy and antisocial as him, cheeky even.
The same habits, same patterns fly right over his head, too busy arguing with you about every smallest thing, mocking each other.
A single comment by the traveler finally makes him realize, a statement meant to be unimportant, a slight tease after they saw you two once again quarrel.
"You two are really alike."
Freezing on the spot he tries to deny it, to brush it off but the horror spreading across his face gives him away, he never considered the fact he's this annoyed about you because he's getting a taste of his own behavior.
From then on he looks at you from a different perspective, analyzing you even.
You hate loudmouthed social interactions, just like him.
You hate people prying into your personal matters without respect for your refusal, just like him.
And you hate holding pointless conversation for the sake of it, just like him.
He wants to kick himself for being so stupid, so blind until it was spelled out for him.
Whenever he sees you now he doesn't provoke you anymore, at least not on purpose.
No, he instead just silently observes you, noting little habits that he unfortunately finds he also has.
His constant gaze on you just pisses you off more though, it feels like he's constantly around you, watching but quiet.
Without the constant fighting it feels like something is missing, something you've grown used to over the span of weeks, an outlet for your frustrations so you don't snap at some poor classmate that might not be able to take your harsh words.
But also someone who was just a little bit like you, who understands.
Fed up with the quiet treatment you corner him at the very spot you two interacted for the first time.
"Are you scared of me or something?"
Hopping onto the branch next to his current lounging place you stare at him, getting directly to the point, no small talk, not even a greeting.
Scoffing he turns his attention to you fully.
"Don't tell me you miss my beautiful voice already." His voice is teasing but lacks its usual bite and insults.
"Shut your mouth."
"I would but you seem to have a problem with me doing so."
Almost snickering at the angry expression on your face he can't help but take a close look at you, not blinded by annoyance or negative emotions for once.
Here you are, someone who goes above and beyond to avoid talking to anyone, actively seeking him out because his presence has become a grounding permanence in your life.
It makes him wonder what happened in your life for you to become this shut off.
Were you always like this? Or did something in your past cause this?
Is it mistrust? Or just stubbornness?
Several possibilities float through his mind, maybe something traumatic happened? Or maybe you're just spoiled?
Either way, you got one hell of a backbone, something most others lack, it's admirable even to him.
"Stop trying to figure me out." Brought back to the land of the living his thoughts abruptly shut up when your sharp demand hits his ears, it's that exact second he realizes he won't be able to escape you or the peace you unexplainably wash over him.
He feels pathetic over the fact that he's gotten attached to you, you're not afraid to voice your disdain or opinion no matter what and that confidence alone has him spiraling, falling for you without even knowing.
What does your laugh sound like? What makes you happy, what makes you smile? What do you like to do in your free time?
All these questions he wants answers to, that started plaguing his mind way before today, yet he's still denying any forming love for you.
In this very moment however? No thinking about emotions, those will come crashing down when he's alone or someone points it out for him (again).
Right now he'll just relish in the last few strays of light with you, a person so like minded but yet different.
Fate has a funny way of guiding him, making him go from hating your guts to appreciating the calm you bring over him.
Trust comes easy when you're interacting with an almost carbon copy of yourself.
