#But not a lot of time to commit to bigger asks

[3liza]

i went to an in-person dr appt yesterday and although my liver and kidneys are not doing their jobs correctly (bad, although not yet urgent), apparently i have grown yet another half inch since i was measured last yearish, and am now fully 5'6.5". which means i have grown a full inch and a half (3.81cm) in vertical height since i stopped growing in a normal way when i was a teenager. i shot up to 5'5" when i was 12, which is normal for afabs with the tall genes + middle school menarche combo, and stayed there according to occasional doctor measurements until a few years ago, when i apparently started growing again.

i've fully aged out of the "long tail' some people have with height, like it's pretty normal to put on another inch or more after the main puberty until your growth plates fully fuse in your early 20s and your body kind of settles. but putting on an extra inch and a half at my age is, i think we can all agree, pretty weird. and when i haven't been to space or been in traction or been pregnant. my feet have also gone up 2 sizes in the last YEAR, which is again normal for pregnancy or weight gain but neither of those things has happened to me.

i keep asking doctors what could possibly be making me get ever taller and more beautiful but they 1. dont seem concerned and 2. say something vague about "it can be lots of things" and then change the subject back to my failing organs which i think is very boring

it's currently biologically impossible for normal human growth plates to unfuse, although the bad kind of short man (not the kingly variety) and medical science generally has been desperately trying to find a way around this for centuries. astronauts tend to be an inch+ taller when they return from space missions because zero gee lets your ligaments decompress and you just sort of expand a bit, but they shrink back down when they get home. pregnancy hormones will also loosen joints, especially the pelvic girdle for obvious reasons, and cause permanent skeletal effects, although in earth gravity i dont think this would cause height INCREASE normally, although i could be wrong. it does cause your feet to widen and lengthen, usually.

so something is making me taller and my feet bigger despite not having any known osteogenesis abnormalities or pregnancy or zero gee time. my best guess is hypermobility disorder/collagen dysfunction combined with ongoing inflammation may be forcing my joints apart strongly enough to make me taller despite the downward gravity pressure. it could also be an effect of corseting if the corset is pressing my ribs and pelvis away from each other and decompressing my vertebrae, essentially a form of traction, but again that would be a LOT of decompression on one short section of my spine to occur without causing noticeable pathology. and im fairly positive my posture is not better now than it was when i was 20.

however i already have all the joint problems of a much taller person so i think it should just continue until im an even 6'. lets just fully commit. see where it goes

[angels-hideaway]

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱 III

Chapter I ;; Chapter II

vampire!Caitlyn Kiramman x peasant!fem! Reader

c/w: descriptions of gore, blood etc. intoxication, mild nsfw. Reader has comphet too.

w/c: 6.2k

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE! Sorry it took long, I was going back and forth on a lot of things and even caught some writers block😵‍💫. I’m happy I could get it out to everyone though! Thank you for all the support on this personal fantasy fic!

summary: As you and Caitlyn finally confront your feelings for each other, ghosts from your past return, leading you to commit an atrocity you can’t take back. SONGS: waltz no.2 by Cihat Aşkin, albinoni/Arr. Giazotto: Adagio in G minor, Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski, Vocalise, Op. 34, no. 14 by sergi Rachmaninoff, A Heart Made of Yarn by Franz Gordon. (Happy listening!)

“Wait for me!” You yelled for the boy in front of you. Cassian, your friend, was already racing through the woods. A small branch in his hand. “Ugh, all you girls are so slow!” He pouts, finally stopping for you to catch up. “I’m not slow! This dress is just not good for running…” you mumbled. Cassian grabbed your hand and led you towards the castle. “The adults never let us come up here…They say a vampire lives inside.”

You admired the beautiful gothic architecture with awe. “A vampire?” Your eyes were wide with childlike wonder and curiosity. “I’d sure like to meet them.” Cassian’s face contorts. “Meet them? I’d like to kill’em! This branch probably won’t do though…” he tosses it away. “I’ll need something bigger. I’ll make a fine vampire hunter when I grow up! And you’ll be my wife.” His chest puffs up with confidence.

“But I don’t-” 

“oh it’s okay. I’ll take care of you!” He cuts you off. “Okay…”

Your eyes flickered open. Now awake from your dream, you remember Cassian. A childhood friend who pursued you relentlessly. As he grew up, he became overbearing and pushy. You once convinced yourself that you were in love with him, but it wasn’t working. You never once felt love for anyone, but you wanted to. Being unmarried at your age was already unusual. You tried to love Cassian, but no matter how much time you spent with him, you couldn’t.

 As your senses woke, you noticed that there was a strange weight on top of you. When you attempted to sit up and  look to your side tiredly, you were met with Caitlyn’s glowing blue eyes. She grinned before pushing you to lie back down. “Let’s stay like this. Don’t move.” You were too tired to argue. You could feel her shift to listen to your heart beat. “You’re so sweet like this… All cozy and warm.” She moves again to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you in to her. “Caitlyn?” She presses her forehead to yours. “Yes, dear?” 

“Uhm.. what are you doing?” She makes a strange face, but replies “I’m just spending time with you. Before I feed.” 

“That’s tonight?” She nods, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

“I’ve been waiting all week. I can’t get enough of you.” She traces your body with one hand that stops on your hip. “Do you enjoy being a vampire?” You ask. “You’re always so excited when it’s time.” She stops and thinks for a moment. “I wouldn’t say I enjoy it. I simply get to enjoy some unorthodox benefits. Like watching you slowly weaken underneath me, like a wilting rose in my garden.” 

“That’s quite poetic…” your eyes meet her in an intense stare.

She sits up, and cages you beneath her. Her bare arms are on either side of your head, and it’s only then you notice she’s almost completely naked. Her shirt isn’t buttoned all the way, and you can see all the way down to the start of her stomach. “What? Never seen a body besides your own?” She notices your strange reaction. Caitlyn seems comfortable with nudity. “No it’s just, that makes this a lot more intimate.” 

“I suppose it does. Are you okay with that?” Her sly grin makes your heart stir. She knows what she’s doing to you. “Uhm, yes.” 

“That’s my girl.” She hugs you gently, before dragging her tongue up the side of your neck. She was being very sensual tonight. “Well, wherever you’re ready.” You tell her. Caitlyn lays you back down and lays next to you herself. She stays like that for a while, just relaxing before rolling on top of you, and pinning your arms above your head. “So helpless. I love fragile little creatures.” 

Her teeth sink into your neck like they belong there. She reciprocates any sound you make with one of her own. You’ll whine in pain, and she’ll groan in pleasure. Your body begins to feel fuzzy again, and you wrap your arms around Caitlyn’s bare back to hold you steady. Every time she’s fed from you, she drinks more each time. Her body tenses and twitches whenever you make a sound of pleasure from the drug controlling your psyche. 

Your arms fall back to your sides, and Caitlyn seizes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers with yours like clockwork. When she finally releases you, she sighs and brushes the stray hair from your face. “You sound so beautiful when you’re in pain. I can’t decide if it’s prettier than the sounds you make when you’re high off venom.” She lies back down and cradles you against her.

“Caitlyn?” That was the longest she’s ever bitten you, meaning this is the most venom you’ve ever had in your system. You can feel it coursing through your veins, and altering your thoughts. You almost enjoy the sensation of being high from it. You’re Caitlyn’s. The crest you still wear around your neck proves that. You’re her blood bank, forever. Meanwhile she’s gazing at you with hazy eyes. “What’s going through your head right now, my dear? Tell me.” She gets up and squeezes out a wet rag on the table next to the bed.

“Caitlyn…” you mumble as she places the cool rag on your forehead. “Oh really? Is that all?” She checks your pulse. “Again. Do it again. Take as much as you want. Drain me, please.” She relishes in your desperate words and sighs in satisfaction. “Aww, I wish I could. Unfortunately doing that may risk never tasting you again, so I’ll have to decline. Now, get some rest.” She kisses your forehead, leaving a lip stain of  your own blood.

That wasn’t the first of many odd interactions. Just yesterday, she left a bouquet of fresh roses at your door for you when you woke up. It’s also become a habit of hers to go out at night and surprise you with new dresses and luxuries. The breakfasts you wake up to become more elaborate too.

Sometimes, she’d dance with you at night too. She’d just be in her study and get up, make her way to wherever you’re seated, bow, kiss your hand, and ask: “May I have this dance?” Then, she’d dance with you slowly, holding your hand gently, with her other arm around your waist. She does this while looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world. There wouldn’t even be any music most of the time. Sometimes she’d hum a song, or sometimes she’d just dance with you in silence.

Is it possible that Caitlyn is in love with you? But that would mean that you’re her one and only. The book said so. Kiramman vampires love one and never again. What would you do if that really was the case? 

“Darling? Are you awake?” Caitlyn peers into your room one night. She comes inside and sits at the side of your bed. “Is something the matter, Caitlyn?” She shakes her head no. “I’m just checking on you. Any more nightmares?” She rests one hand on your thigh. “Not recently. I think I’m okay now.” She starts to rub up and down your thigh through the blankets. “That’s good…” She squeezes gently. 

“Caitlyn, I had a question.” You sit up and prop yourself against some pillows. “Feel free to ask me anything, darling.”  She smiles reassuringly. “If a vampire fell in love, what would happen?” You knew the answer already from the book, but you just wanted to see what she would say. “If I fell in love?…Well, I’d treat them very well and love them forever. I can only love one person in my life, so they would be my everything.” She doesn’t break eye contact the whole time she says that. “And you?” She says. “What?”

“What would happen if a sweet girl like you fell in love?” She’s smiling softly. “I’m nothing special, so nothing fantastical like having one true love or anything like you… I suppose I would want to be with them. Maybe I’d be too shy to ask, or maybe I’d be forward and tell them as soon as I figured out how I felt.”

“Really? How wonderful it must be to fall in love. I never knew that sort of love in my life. I only knew lust.” She looks remorseful. You question further. “Never in your human life did you fall in love? Not with any of your uhm, partners?”

“No. Maybe I could have, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. All I wanted was that feeling watching a girl unravel beneath me provided. Power, maybe?” She thinks on it some more, but looks back to you with renewed curiosity. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?” 

“Me? Well, not exactly.”

“That’s a strange answer. It’s usually a yes or a no.”

“Well, I would say yes, but I think it was more so me wanting to feel love. There was someone: a boy named Cassian.” Caitlyn looks very focused on your story. “And you loved him?”

“I wanted to. I never felt romantic love for anyone. I wanted to, but it just never happened. I think something’s…wrong with me.” Caitlyn comes to your side and brings you into a hug. “Nothing is wrong with you.” She hugs you tighter. “You just didn’t love him, and that’s okay. I’m confident that somewhere, there’s someone who loves you very much…”

“Caitlyn.” You lean into her grasp, and she lays you down gently. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I love you, if that counts for anything.” She drags one thumb over your bottom lip. “Someone so kind and understanding of me, someone who doesn’t run away.” Her hair falls onto your face

“You love me too, don’t you? Please say you do.” She lowers herself to lie on top of you in a smothering hug. “ I think I do.”

“That’s enough for me, my love. Let me cherish you here, forever.” Her lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your eyes are still open just from the surprise, but Caitlyn’s fingers dragging over your face urge you to close them. She kisses you with as much hunger as she does love. Her fangs scratch your lips, and the taste of your own blood taints the taste of her kiss. 

When the two of you part, a thin, string of saliva still connects you. Caitlyn’s lips look glossy and you can feel her breath on your face. There’s a moment of silence where she gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. “Thank you.” She whispers. 

When you wake up in the morning, Caitlyn is asleep. She’s nocturnal, so you leave her in bed. She kissed you. She kissed you hard. You raise your hand to your lips, and touch them gently. You can even feel the little cut left by Caitlyn’s fangs. You were her one and only love. She loved you. The thought made you feel like swooning. 

That evening, you hear the soft meow of Whisper, and see the cat appear from a dark hall. “Whisper? Is something the matter?” The cat seems tense. Her fur is raised and pupils dilated.

You follow the cat up the stairs to the balcony of the castle. “Whisper?” The cat stops. Walking out onto the balcony, you look out over the village and the woods. It’s only sunset, but you can see a trail of smoke rising from the direction of Crows-Wood. It had to be a fire, but the village wasn’t burning. A bonfire. You can feel your stomach drop with dread. Crows-wood only threw large bonfire parties before a hunt. Not just any vampire hunt though, they were sending off a group. You remember them distinctly. The people chugging ale and screaming at the top of their lungs, the vampire corpses and caricatures being paraded on sticks, and the slew of weapons the hunters were preparing to head off with. You always stayed inside during these just because they disturbed you so much. Who could celebrate the murder of anything with such fervor?

A group of vampire hunters were being rallied to head this very way to kill Caitlyn. When you realize this, you rush back to your bedroom, with Whisper following. “Caitlyn! Caitlyn wake up, please!” You shook her cold body into waking. She was still in your bed, sleeping as peacefully as when you left her. That was the case until your frantic shaking and tears woke her. “Darling please, what’s the matter?” She takes your hands gently to stop them from shaking her. “Crows-Wood! A bonfire they’re- they’re-”

“Shhh, my love.” She sits up and pulls you in against her chest. “Calm down. You can explain once you’ve done that.” Whisper leaps onto the bed and settles next to Caitlyn. 

“Now, speak slowly and tell me what’s going on.” You pull away from Caitlyn and look her in the eyes. “Crows-Wood is sending a group of hunters this way. I saw them celebrating over a bonfire.” Caitlyn’s expression grows grim. “How many do they usually send in a group?” You try and recall from your memories. “Uhm… five or six.” Caitlyn sighs. “I can take them, but I’ll need your help.”

“What do you need!? I’ll do anything.” She smiles at you and brushes your hair away from your neck. “I hate to ask this of you, but I’m at my strongest when I drink human blood.” 

“Of course! Take as much as you need.” You pull your dress down to expose your shoulder. The night has fully set in now. Caitlyn’s hand brushes your cheek, and she pulls you in for a kiss. She pulls herself back from your lips to kiss your chin, and continues down to leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Caitlyn…” You whisper her name into the room that’s growing ever darker. She nuzzles into the crook of your neck before biting down. Her hands wander down your body, to the small of your back to palm at your rear. Her touch is gentle, but firm.

When she’s finished, she lifts you bridal style and leaves your bedroom. “It’d be too easy to find you here. I’m sure it’s you they’re really after. I’ll bring you to my room.” You’re semi-conscious during the walk there. Caitlyn’s bedroom is” deeper into the castle. She sets you down on a large bed that smells like her. Old fragrances and roses.“Promise me you won’t move. Please just stay here.” She tucks your intoxicated body into the blankets, and leaves. 

You’re woken by the sound of screaming, stomach-twisting wails of pain, and crashes. You’re still high off of the venom, but you stumble out of Caitlyn’s bed to see what’s going on. You’re vision is swimming and you’re feet feel heavy. You have to get to Caitlyn. She needs you. You need her. 

“They’re here.”

The hunters have arrived, and are fighting with Caitlyn as you lean on walls to navigate the castle. She told you not to move, but you couldn’t just lie there and hope she came back alive. You wanted to help. How would you help in the state you were in? Even you didn’t know. You’d manage somehow. By the time you make it to the stairs, you can see the gory display. Three men lie dead on the floor, choking on their own blood as it seeps from gashes in their throats. Their faces are forever expressing regret and horror. The two left are injured, but Caitlyn seems to be tired too. She’s holding up well, but you can tell her energy has depleted. 

“Where is she!? If you’ve killed her I’ll drag you out into the sun come daylight!” An all too familiar voice screams out. Cassian? He’s part of the group? “I’d never lay a finger on her.” Caitlyn rasps, grabbing the other assailant and crushing his throat to fleshy mush in her bare hand. The sickening sight is followed by the snap of his bones. All the times she’s touched you, she’s been perfectly capable of something like that. Cassian yells out in rage, and charges at Caitlyn, wooden steak in hand. Caitlyn seems ready to defend herself until he pulls a small wooden cross from his pocket. The sound of Caitlyn’s scream surprised you. She sounds horrified. So crosses really do affect vampires that much. Caitlyn loses her footing and falls back.

No. This can’t be happening. She killed four of them and the last one standing will manage to kill her? And Cassian of all people? You had to do something. Caitlyn looks melancholic on the ground. It’s like she could get up, but won’t. She just lies there as Cassian aims his wooden steak at her heart. 

Neither of them noticed you rushing down the stairs.

With a gut wrenching scream, you plunge a dagger from a dead man’s hands into his back. Cassian barely has any life left to turn around and look at you. “You’re…alive.” He utters before falling to the ground. Still lost in the venom and your fear, you continue to stab his dead body over and over and over again, screaming all the while. You finally stop when Caitlyn pulls the dagger from your hands, and brings you into a tight hug. “No no no this was never supposed to happen.” She whispers. You sob into her chest from the shock and repulsion. You killed a man. Not just any man, but one you knew since childhood. One who came all this way to rescue you. 

“Darling look at me please, look at me.” Caitlyn wipes your tears with her thumbs and forces you to look at her. Shes looking at you like she doesn’t recognize you. “He was going to kill you I- I couldn’t let him take you away from me!” You’re spouting nonsense as you try to make sense of your impulsive action. “Shh shh shh..” Caitlyn just urges you to be quiet, and hugs you close. You can taste his blood in your mouth. “I- I’ll run you a hot bath, and we can soak together okay? It’s okay.” Caitlyn clearly is not sure what to do with you. You killed for her. Something so much more than a flimsy declaration of love. 

 You’re seated between Caitlyn’s legs as she hugs you from behind while you both soak in the hot bath. You haven’t said a word since you killed Cassian. Caitlyn is concerned. Every so often, she’ll attempt to coax a conversation out of you. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Silence. You cannot speak. “… This might not be the right time, but thank you. At that moment, when I was there on the ground, I was just so…” Her voice breaks. “Tired. Tired of fighting, of hiding, I just was ready to die. But then I remembered you. I remembered that I didn’t want to leave you, because I love you.” She holds you tighter, making the water slosh around the bathtub. You can feel her chin on your head, and her breasts against your back. “But it was too late. I was on the ground, and a wooden steak was inches from my heart. That’s when you attacked him. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. I wish you didn’t have to do that, and part of me wishes I had died instead of staining your hands with blood, but thank you.” 

She lifts you out of the bath, and drys you off herself. Caitlyn doesn’t take you to your bedroom that night, she lets you sleep in her bed with her. She doesn’t bother putting a nightgown on you, and just leaves you in your underwear. She talks you to sleep, before leaving to clean up the mess of blood and dead bodies. When she returns to bed, sitting at your side, Caitlyn does something she thought to be impossible.

She cries.

She can hardly believe it herself when she feels the first tear roll down her cheek, but they don’t stop. She shouldn’t be able to cry. She can’t. Her body is frozen in time, unable to produce blood, tears, waste, anything. So why is she crying? Since turning, this is Caitlyn’s first time crying for someone besides herself. Her first tears that didn’t stem from selfishness, but from how overwhelmingly guilty she felt for what you did for her. She doesn’t try and stop them, but just lets her tears fall. Caitlyn goes to sleep that night with you by her side, feeling a little more human than normal.

You wake up screaming. There’s blood everywhere. On your hands, in your mouth, and even in your eyes. Cold arms pull you back down to the bed and hold you steady. “Shhh my love. I’m sorry…” You manage to calm yourself, and relax into Caitlyn’s arms. “This is all my fault.” She whispers. “No please don’t blame yourself. I did what I did all on my own.” You reply. “Caitlyn, do you think we have to leave the castle?” Caitlyn seems to be thinking. 

“Maybe, but for now, I think we’re safe.” She intertwined her legs with yours beneath the sheets. Her lips find yours in a soft kiss. Her fingers thread through your hair, and between kisses she whispers. “I love you. I’m grateful for what you did, even if I wish it hadn’t happened. I’m truly sorry.”

“That was him.” You admitted.

“What?” Caitlyn’s lost. “That was the man I told you about. The one I tried to love.” Caitlyn gasps quietly. “I see.” She’s avoiding your gaze. “He was looking for you. That whole time he kept badgering me on what he’d do if I hurt you.” She sounds annoyed. “Honestly, it seems like he loved you. He wanted you back from me. He said you were his.” Her tone sounds angry, yet collected. 

When Caitlyn notices you’re asleep again, she sighs and kisses your lips once more before laying you down. 

When you wake up, Caitlyn’s asleep. Whisper is meowing at the end of the bed. You feel a bit better after all the commotion last night. It’s still hard to believe you killed anyone. Heading downstairs, you check to see if the bodies and carnage are still there. It’s not. Caitlyn must have cleaned it. Killing Cassian almost felt like being born again yourself. It was as if you truly accepted yourself for what you were, standing there, covered in his blood. Someone who could never love a man, no matter how much he urged you to. Every time he stated you’d marry him, the advances he’d make, offerings to your parents, and shouting matches that ended in your tears came crashing down. 

You had decided where you stood the moment you stabbed him. Going against your own people for a vampire. You wanted to stay with Caitlyn forever, and that’s something humanity wouldn’t allow. You’d ask her to turn you into one of her own tonight. You’d be a vampire too.

That night, you wait up for Caitlyn. As usual, she comes into your room to check on you. “Awake this late, my love?” She joins you on your bed, guiding you to lean your head on her shoulder. “Caitlyn, Would it be possible for me to become a vampire?” She freezes. “Why would you want to do that?” 

“I abandoned my humanity the moment I killed Cassian. I want to be with you forever, even if it means becoming a monster.” Caitlyn looks at you fondly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. Sure you’ve killed, but so have many men. Asking to be like me is asking to be forsaken by god. Besides, I’d never get to taste your blood that way again.” 

“A vampire can’t drink another vampires blood?” She laughs. “No. When my family was still around, we tried that. Vampires need the blood of others because we can no longer produce any ourselves. There’s no blood to take from me, or any other vampire.” An explanation that makes sense. You’re proposal sounded foolish now. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in my right mind.” Caitlyn strokes your back reassuringly. “I understand. Back when I killed for the first time, I was horrified by myself. The difference between you and me is that you don’t need to kill again. I shouldn’t have to either, yet the people of Crows-Wood insist on making me. I was ready to give up, and just let them kill me.” She sounds exhausted. She’s been alive for more than a century, and the whole time she’s been hunted. You can’t even imagine the stress and fear. Before all of this, you thought she had nothing to be afraid of. Safe to say your views have changed.

“I don’t think dying would have been much better.” You say. Caitlyn scoffs. “I’ve been dead a long time. Death comes for us all. In the end, we’re all equal in the eyes of death. Something that life hasn’t granted me.” 

“But doesn’t it scare you?”

“I stopped fearing it a long time ago. It doesn’t matter how scared you are, because every death is equally tragic. Even for those some consider evil.” You sit there in silence with her, letting the words she spoke swim around in your head. “I’m lucky I got to meet you though.” She kisses your cheek. “I’m happy I met you too.” You return with a kiss to her lips. It’s almost like you can’t stop kissing each other. The kiss grows and continues, until Caitlyn’s on top of you. Her hands are in your hair and you can feel her tongue in your mouth. You don’t stop kissing her until it’s physically impossible for you to continue. Caitlyn watches you gasp for breath with that same hazy expression like when she feeds. 

“I should leave.” She huffs. “Why? I was thinking that since I couldn’t become a vampire like you, that we could at least…” she stops you with a finger to your lips. “Please don’t say what I think you’re trying to. You must remember that I’m still a creature who runs on her instincts at the end of the day. I don’t know if I could do that with you without getting you hurt. Sex is what made me this way in the first place.” You reach out to cup her face in your hands. “But that was when it was purely for your pleasure alone, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to take the chance. No matter how much I’d like to.” She tears her gaze away from you and sits up at the edge of your bed. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“Caitlyn I’m sure it’ll be fine. Please?” You follow her and wrap your arms around her from behind. “Darling, please don’t entice me. I’d love to, really, but I just don’t want to hurt you. Please just get some sleep okay? It’s getting late for a human to be awake.” She pries your hands off of her and stands up. “Sweet dreams, my love. I’ll be here if you need me.” And just like that, she leaves. 

Caitlyn wanted you badly, but she couldn’t let herself falter. Make the same mistake she did a century ago, and use you for her own benefit. Caitlyn’s back slid down the door as she sat down on the floor, pressing her fingers to her temple in thought. She already was using you. Using you like cattle that she could feed off of. Caitlyn wants to love you, but her past won’t leave her alone. She can’t tell if she loves you, or if she’s reverted to her past ways. She stands up and rests her forehead against your door. How she longed to go back, but she knew what would happen if she did. Hesitantly, she leaves to go read and distract herself. 

You fall back on your bed with a sigh of frustration. You couldn’t force her. You went to sleep that night with a new way to think of death, and a burning desire for the one who inspired that way of thought. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. After tossing and turning, and many fantasies of your vampire lover, you finally got some rest.

In the days that pass, Caitlyn certainly notices your increasingly clingy state. She tries not to think about it, or what it implies at all, but it’s almost impossible. She wants to make sure that she loves you for who you are, and not just the lust she feels. 

The next few days are peaceful. There are no raging mobs or groups of men marching up the mountain to have Caitlyn’s head, and you can finally sleep at night without thinking about murder. That is until you hear the sound of a glass bottle shattering in the night, waking you and Whisper up instantly. 

The cat hisses and slips out of your bedroom, and you follow. You follow the sound of glass being swept, and end up at the old wine cellar underneath the castle. Caitlyn is cleaning up glass shards as blood seeps into the stone flooring. When she notices you, she looks embarrassed. “Did I wake you? My apologies.” Once all the glass is cleaned she stares at the blood in defeat. “How am I meant to clean this?… a mop I suppose.” She gets a mop and begins to sop the liquid up. “Are you feeling alright?” Caitlyn shakes her head no. “It’s a full moon tonight. So far I’ve been this way without you noticing, but cravings get worse on nights like these. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped a bottle.” 

“What kind of blood is that?” She stops moving. “It’s…cow’s.” Something tells you it’s not cow’s blood. Maybe a humans? You hope not.

“Alright.” You decide not to pry. “It’s only two or three more days until you can drink from me. If you want, we could just do it earlier if the craving is that bad.” She whirls around. “Absolutely not. In this state, I’d loose control almost instantly. I could kill you.” Her hands start shaking again. “Uhm, I can finish cleaning, and you can get a drink.” You propose. She nods hastily and drops the mop, instantly moving to sort through her array of bottles. When she choose one, she doesn’t even bother to pour it in the glass. She just drinks straight from the bottle.

She sighs in relief when she finally puts the bottle down, and it’s almost completely empty. A little bit of blood is running down her chin and her chest is heaving. “Don’t look at me, please. Stay away before I lose my mind.” She genuinely seems ashamed of her behavior.  “Caitlyn, is there anything I can do to help?” You approach her slowly. She sets down the bottle and uses a handkerchief from the table to wipe the blood from her chin. “Help me? Oh, I don’t think there’s any way you can. Just don’t come near me until tomorrow night.” Her voice is unsteady, and her eyes can’t seem to focus on your face. 

“I think I’ll go lay down.” Caitlyn excuses herself and leaves the cellar. You finish cleaning, and decide to go search for her. You find Caitlyn in her bed on her stomach, with her arms hugging a pillow that her face is buried in. “Caitlyn?”

“Yes?” She looks up and over her shoulder at you. Her eyes look tired and she’s paler than usual. “You look sick. Are you really okay? There’s nothing I can do?” She merely pats the free space on the bed next to her. That’s all you needed to see. As you make your way towards her, something about Caitlyn feels off. You sit down on the bed next to her, and she doesn’t react at all. You’re caught off guard when she suddenly cages you against her chest with her arms. Her strength is uncanny, but steady. You trust she won’t hurt you by applying too much force. 

“I told you to stay away.”

“I was worried. You’re acting strange.” 

“Strange? I’m already a vampire. I don’t know how I could get stranger.” You try to pull away from her, but her hold on you is iron clad. “Why are you holding me so tightly?” You’re a little annoyed by her. Caitlyn tries to relax her grip, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. “Like I said. I run on instinct. I’m not human. Right now, my body wants to suck you dry because of that wretched moon. That’s why I can’t let go. It’s torture.” You try and relax your muscles to make this less uncomfortable for you. “And nothing I can do could make it less unbearable?” 

“Maybe if you left, and I didn’t see you, but I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” 

She slowly leans into your face, pressing her forehead to yours and sighing. “You smell so good…” her voice is still shaking, and her hands follow suit. “Uhm, thank you.” 

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, you know that right?” Her arms finally loosen, and move to begin undoing your dress. “Uhm-yes I know.”

“So would you be okay if I bit you early? I know I said I wouldn’t but damn it all. I promise I won’t take a lot. I’ll be gentle.” She says between kissing down your collar bone, and forcing you to lay down. The kisses make you irrational. All you want is for her to give you more.

“Yes, that’s fine. Just a small bite.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy her sucking you blood. The practice felt like you were closer to her than ever before. The pain felt good, and the pleasure even better. It was sacred, and intimate. Caitlyn pulls down your dress to expose your breasts to the cool castle air. Her fingers trace over the buds of your nipples, making them harden quickly. “You’re not biting my neck?” Caitlyn chuckles. “Mm, I’ve gotten quite tired of that. I want to bite you somewhere else. Somewhere more personal.” She lifts you with her arm around your lower back. Your back is arched, and your chest is completely vulnerable to her. You can feel Caitlyn’s tongue glide around your right breast until it settles on your nipple. When she bites down on the surrounding flesh, you whine in pain, but the hurt quickly disintegrates as her venom is pumped straight into your veins.

Caitlyns eyes never look away from you, and the longer she’s latched onto you, the brighter her eyes glow. When she finally lets go, your breast is left cold and wet with her saliva. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it..” She’s more herself after receiving human blood. She adjusts your dress so you’re covered again. “You’re irresistible. Not to mention how fast your heart was beating. You can feel it too can’t you? How fast it’s going?” Sure enough, you think your heart may burst from your chest. You feel euphoric. “I think you like this. The blood sucking I mean. Just look at your face right now.” She chuckles and checks your pulse as usual. “This isn’t good. This isn’t the first time I’ve broken our rules.” She sounds like she’s talking to herself more than to you. “From now on, I’ll never break the rules again. I’ll never feed off of you off schedule ever.”

And she tries. She really does try, but sometimes the tension between you two is unbearable. Sometimes, Caitlyn will shut herself in her room just to avoid giving in again. You’re doing okay physically though, as long as she doesn’t do it more than four times in a row. When you get dressed in the morning, or undressed at night, you’re body is littered in bruises and bite marks. She’s gotten into the habit of biting you in unconventional places. Your arms, thighs (a favorite), and more. Not all of them are from blood sucking, some are just hickies. Caitlyn’s tried to just mark you normally as a way of “simulating” what it’d be like to actually bite you. You never thought you’d be in a relationship with someone who craves you so carnally. You’ll spot her looking at you like she wants to eat you alive from time to time. Her ice blue eyes burn through you, making you feel bare and exposed before her. The lingering touches, the soft, quiet times, and even the violent, intense moments all combine to create an addicting kind of love. 

It’s one of Whispers favorite things to do to interrupt a heavy kiss with a meow, before pouncing on either you or Caitlyn’s lap to whine for attention. Caitlyn would huff in frustration, but give in to the black cat and stroke her velvety-soft fur for a while.

You’ve gotten into the habit of waking up insanely early just to lie with Caitlyn as she goes to sleep for the day. You’ll lie there while she holds you close, like a child does their favorite toy. When she’s asleep, sometimes you’ll stay and just enjoy the early morning hours by her side. When whisper gets tired of waiting for breakfast, she’ll meow until you gently remove yourself from Caitlyn’s arms, and get started with your day.

Taglist: @starryeyes-7 @caitlynsbathwater @halle5s @riotstemple29 @mxchi-mxxn @thinkviolets @commanderraccoon @madalinee @gwscloq @seisei18 @paigeilicous @cottagegirlworld-blog @cenizajskp @kittymrtnezz69 @jiryelle @vivienneswhispers @all-things-lilac @marve1stranger @trulysapphic @b7ue8erry @poeticrenaissance @whatthefuckisthisapppppp @girlsatourbest @st0nerlesb0 @butchpuppyy @yearningandstillnotlearning @eyehatesex @sunsetzzzzzzz @kaylovesmatcha @venuswarmlight @mellowdreamlandpost-blog

[justabeewithapen]

Kirby you seem to have forgotten what I do with my favorites around here!

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia!

You’ve probably had to explain this a hundred times already, but I’m new to your fandom so I’ve likely missed previous explanations. I was just wondering when will you be posting Underline the Silver?

I haven't needed to explain this much at all! But you also might not like the answer I'm afraid, because it's: 'I have no idea' but also 'really not very soon at all.'

It will likely start around the time that Underline the Blue or Underline the Gold come close to finishing, or Underline the Black finishes, which almost certainly puts it into early or mid 2024 at the earliest.

Underline the Red and Underline the Silver will both kick back off around the same time.

I currently have an extremely full slate which is nuts even by my standards. I wrote it out for a friend tonight and:

Underline the Black - 4-5 chapters a month (every Thursday) A Stain that Won't Dissolve - 2-3 chapters a month (every second Sunday) The Nascent Diplomat - 1 chapter a month Constellations - 1 chapter a month (will eventually replace The Nascent Diplomat) Palmarosa - (god help me) 3-4 chapters a month (this is so unsustainable, this is my fault for wanting to write a BG3 fic) Underline the Blue - 2 chapters every few months Underline the Red - as above (but on hiatus for my sanity) Underline the Gold - as above (they all just cycle with each other)

I don't know how to tell you how incredibly nuts this is, but I think I can sum it up as '2-3 stories at the same time used to be where I was most comfortable.'

And this is not 2-3 stories.

I am really really just not going to be able to write anything outside of this, at least until some of these stories finish (and some of THESE stories are on hiatus or minimalistic schedules already), because like...

as much as I like to treat myself like a words machine, I am unfortunately a human person, and I've reached the point of thinking about crying when it comes to keeping even this up.

So yeah Underline the Silver can wait for when I'm excited about new stories again and not dreading them because my current writing slate is 'oh god oh god WHY IS EVERYTHING BURNING' dsakljfdsa

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[tw1sters]

Put a Ring on It

Jake is an impatient man, even more so when it comes to you. When he sees you for the first time in months, his self-restraint is tested. Spoiler: he doesn't pass.

▸ PAIRING: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, pwp, semi-public, inappropriate use of naval academy class ring (fully inspired by inappropriate use of malfoy signet ring lol), fingering, dirty talk, lots of cursing ▸ WORD COUNT: 3.4K ▸ A/N: currently in my established relationship pwp era so here's another one. been thinking about that ring for a while now. please mind the warnings!

—

Fucking Hangman and his fucking fragile ego. And his fucking hand.

It’s true that the situation isn’t exactly ideal – you fly in to visit for the weekend, taking only a couple of days off from work to spend time with your boyfriend, who’s currently off on a special assignment at the San Diego base. You haven’t seen Jake in two months; with him constantly on the road and you buried in meetings with your current project, it’s virtually impossible to find the days to actually fly to see each other. 

To say he is deprived is a massive understatement.

When you arrive on base, he pulls you into a crushing kiss. Literally crushing. His arms, which have probably gotten even bigger since you last saw him, are wrapped around you as his lips capture yours. His moan reverberates throughout your entire body. You barely notice his squadmates jeering and booing around you. When he slips his tongue past your lips, as much as you enjoy it, you know it’s time to stop.

After all, you are on government property and they probably have the authority to hold you prisoner should you commit indecent exposure.

“Jake,” you breathe, pushing at his chest for him to release you. He continues peppering your face with kisses, and a laugh bubbles up your throat. “Okay, okay. I get it, you missed me.”

He hums, his hair coiffed back, ruffled in the wind. Your heart somersaults in your chest. Sometimes you forget to truly appreciate how attractive he is. Neatly trimmed dirty blonde hair, strong jawline, that stupidly gorgeous grin. Don’t get you started on his hands. You marveled over them enough the first time you met and he’s definitely shown you how talented he can be with them. 

“Been too long, sweetheart,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into your neck. You can feel his mouth begin to work on you again and, before you fall apart in front of his teammates, you gently nudge him away, pulling an annoyed grunt from his lips. “Killin’ me,” he mutters.

“Not in front of your team, Seresin.”

When Rooster calls your name, you perk up and shoot him a smile. “Are you coming to the barbecue tonight?” He asks. 

Jake groans. “Absolutely the fuck not. I need some quality time.”

“What barbecue?” You cock an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Hangman didn’t tell you? We have a beach barbecue at The Hard Deck later. Whole squad’s going to be there and obviously Penny and Mav are setting everything up. Took us a couple of weeks to get everyone together. Even Coyote’s girlfriend is coming.”

Well, now you have no choice. You look at Jake who’s already groaning, preemptively reacting to your response. You shoot him a look telling him to behave before turning back to Rooster with a tight smile. “Of course we’ll be there.” 

Rooster grins, “Awesome, I’ll catch you there. I need to drop off some of my stuff first.”

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” Jake says, a hand on his wounded heart. Ever the drama queen.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “We can’t not go, Jake. The crew’s going to be there, along with your bosses, might I add.”

“They’re just going to eat and get drunk.”

“Exactly what I want to do after the week I’ve had.”

Jake stands in front of you, hands grasping your waist as he pulls you close and ducks his head to kiss you again. “I know how to get you to relax, release all that pent-up tension.” 

Heat crawls up your neck as you feel the pulsing between your legs. Jake isn’t the only one who’s been particularly needy. You’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve had your hand down there. While you can still satisfy yourself, it isn’t the same as having Jake there with his veined hands, lickable abs, and filthy words. 

Phone sex is a common occurrence, but you’re only left wanting more. 

Before Jake can get you even more hot and bothered, you lick your lips and hold him at arm’s length. You make sure his grabby hands stay in yours, foiling his every attempt to grope you in public. There are officers around for god’s sake. “We’ll stay for an hour, say our hi’s, get some food and drinks, then we’ll head back to your place,” you try to reassure him. 

“You and your desire to please people will cock block me to hell, sweetheart,” Jake grunts. “You say an hour and I already know we’ll be staying there well past.” 

“No, it’ll just be an hour. I promise.”

Jake learns early on in your relationship that there are certain promises you do not keep. Although you are great at holding yourself accountable for things revolving around him, the chances of those promises coming true slim down to near zero when other people are involved. Too many times have you promised him you’ll only stay an hour – particularly at boring events that you drag him to (or he drags you to) – because you feel terrible if you don’t offer the host the time and appreciation they deserve for organizing. 

And you love Penny. That woman is impossible to adore. No one else can keep Mav on his toes like her. Thus, Jake certainly expects you to give her your utmost effort to be present.

Proving his point right, you and he are currently on hour number two. You try to ignore how restless Jake is getting. He’s rocking on the balls of his feet, grumbling under his breath, his hands beginning to wander again. The annoyed jitters radiating off him seem to amuse the others, especially as you’re striving to give whoever you’re speaking to your full undivided attention. 

So far, it has been Penny, Mav, Nat, Bob, and Javy. The current one on your list is Bradley, who’s going on and on about the training they did today. With at least three drinks in his system, nobody can get Bradley to shut up. 

You’re nodding along to the story, throwing in a few questions here and there to toss Bradley off the scent. The scent being Jake’s hand continuously sliding up your leg and under your skirt. You swat his hand away, yanking it off you every few minutes or so, but he is relentless. Thankfully, the two of you stand with your backs towards the ocean, and everyone else is in front of you. None of them the wiser to the shit Jake is pulling behind your back, literally.  

Jake’s large hand cups your asscheek and massages it slowly, pulling them apart until you can feel even your pussy lips parting. The light breeze that sneaks into your underwear has you freezing. Your subtle efforts to remove his hand are to no avail. Instead, knowing he overpowers your grip, he only gets bolder. 

His hand alternates between squeezing your ass and tracing the line of your panties. You bite back a shiver every time he does. You can feel wetness pooling between your legs, and how damp your underwear has probably gotten. At this point, you aren’t hearing a single word coming out of Bradley’s mouth anymore. Fortunately, you don’t think Bradley fully comprehends whatever he’s saying either. He’s stumbling slightly on the sand, close to toppling over each time. 

Jake doesn’t even try to help and you can’t bring yourself to either, not when Jake is tempting you so deliciously. 

When Jake carefully runs a finger over your slit over your damp panties, you feel your brain fogging up. Bradley’s words are beginning to blur together, and so is his face. Jake smirks proudly, sensing how distracted you are even as his squadmate drones on. 

Fucking asshole. 

His index finger slips underneath the fabric, tugging it slightly to the side as he runs it over your bare pussy. You can feel him collect your juice slowly and use it to drag his fingers along your lips. Struggling to swallow a moan, you let your eyes slip shut only momentarily, hoping that Bradley doesn’t catch on. However, when Jake dips not one, but two fingers into you, a squeak escapes your lips before you can catch it. 

Your cheeks immediately flame with the sound. While Bradley is drunk, he isn’t completely inebriated. 

He stops halfway through his sentence as he frowns. You can’t bring yourself to say a single thing, your face tight and body tense. Meanwhile, you don’t even need to look over at Jake to see how pleased he looks with himself. Bradley’s eyes dart between the two of you, the realization slowly sinks in as he begins to trip backwards. The panic sets quickly on his face.

“Oh no. No, no. I’m not going to be around for this. There are things I wish I did not know and this is one of them. You guys are nasty,” he manages to get out before he is rushing away towards Nat. He wraps an arm around her and you can hear him ask her to protect him from potentially scarring his eyeballs. 

This team is built on drama queens. 

Jake’s hand disappears from your body only to wrap around your hand as he drags you inside. He ignores your protests as he whisks you past Penny and Mav, one of which is looking at you knowingly and the latter who raises a confused brow. 

Your boyfriend leads you, fighting to keep up with his long legs, towards the back area, into a hallway hidden from the crowd outside. He wastes no time before he’s pressing you up against the wall and dropping his head to capture your lips. A moan involuntarily rises from your throat now that no one is around. 

Your hands slide up his toned arms and wrap around his neck as you pull him in deeper, relishing in the feel of his fit form against your soft body. Jake is all sharp lines and hard edges, a figure he maintains very proudly. You can taste the beer on his tongue as you breathe in a scent that’s so undeniably him.  

Even kissing him is doing wonders in getting you one step closer to satisfying your wanton need. Your mind doesn’t think twice as you let your hands explore the body that you’ve missed for so long. Your nails drag along his neck, down his chest, unbuttoning his beige uniform along the way. 

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Jake grunts as he hikes your skirt up around your hips. He hisses when he sees the wet spot on your panties. “Fuck, look at you. You’re so wet, darlin’. You miss me? Miss my hands on you?”

You bite back a whimper when Jake presses a thumb against the spot, rubbing the lace deeper into your pussy to collect more moisture. “Jake, please, you’ve been teasing all night,” you groan. 

“Yeah? Where do you want me?” 

“Want your fingers inside, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his forearm as he uses his knee to separate your legs. With his thigh against your core, you’re likely beginning to soak his pants, especially when he nudges against you. 

“Ask nicely,” Jake whispers in your ear, chuckling when you growl at him. 

“Seresin, you better move it along or I might find someone else who’ll do the work,” you bite back. When you attempt to pull away, Jake moves faster. One hand swoops and fastens up both your arms above your head, his hips pin you against the hard surface, and the other cups your cheek. A strangely intimate gesture despite the mess he’s put you in. “Fuck you,” you snap at him.

“Oh, you’d like that,” he teases, eyes twinkling devilishly. “You look so pretty when you can’t go anywhere. Trapped with me.”

You hate, but secretly enjoy, that that does the trick for you. Your cunt tightens involuntarily. This is your form of foreplay. The mocking, the banter. You love that he can overpower you, love how easily he cages you in. 

“God, I missed you,” Jake leans in and kisses you again, just enough to leave you wanting more. When he backs away slightly, you find yourself chasing after him. The taste of him and the warmth of him. “Missed this pretty pussy even more.”

“Then put your hands on me,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“Your wish is my command.” He looks down at you, blue-green eyes almost iridescent as they observe you with rapt attention. The back of his hand skims your jaw, fingers brushing against your lips. His eyes darken into shadows when, as he grazes his ring down your throat, your breath hitches. The metal is cool against your heated skin, a brief reprieve in the slow torture he puts you through. His hand journeys further down along your cleavage, visible above the neckline of your dress. From his height, he has a front row seat to the curves of your tits. “Fucking stunning,” he mutters to himself. 

Your skirt is still pooled around your hips, the hem swiping the back of your legs. His hand continues its path south until he’s touching you again, fingertips delicate above the fabric. 

“And these panties,” Jake huffs, “my favorite.”

You knew what you were doing when you got freshened up earlier. The underwear was an easy pick - a little red number with delicate floral lace trimming. The back barely covers your ass cheeks, giving him easy access to his actions throughout the night. 

The friction of the lace against your sensitive pussy has you squirming, his fingers urging the flimsy fabric against your skin. Your head falls back with a thud against the wood. His touch is insistent as he encourages the pulsing squeezing your insides. 

Jake flits his fingers around the fabric, shoving it to the side like he did earlier. Instead of putting them inside you, he continues to tease your lips. Every time he touches you just a little firmer, a little deeper, you press your thighs together. His US Naval Academy class ring imprints against your thigh. 

There’s something about the feeling of it. A consistent reminder that it’s there. A reminder of his role in the Navy. There’s something about that power that has your stomach flipping. He’s not only competent in taking care of you, but they put this man in an aircraft to keep this country safe. 

A large part of you loves that. You adore how protected it makes you. But also how small it makes you feel. 

As your thoughts spiral around the implications of his little piece of jewelry, he is slipping a finger past your folds. Your juices are coating the digits, making it easier and easier to push into you. He alternates between sinking deep inside of you, scraping your walls with determination, and stroking the outsides lightly, a gentle tease that has you fidgeting for more. You’re tempted to descend on his fingers, using him to fuck yourself, but Jake doesn’t allow that to happen. 

He brings his hand slightly higher. When the ring’s engravings touch your clit, you inadvertently jolt. Damn you and your traitorous body. Ever the perceptive one, Jake’s eyes light up in understanding. As if he needs more ammo to use against you. 

“Oh, do you like that, sweetheart?” He beams, bright eyes sparkling in delight. “You like my ring on you?”

Another fuck you sits on the tip of your tongue, but it never comes out when he purposely presses the ruby against your clit. You jerk again in his touch, but he doesn’t slacken his touch. Every time you try to twist away from him, his grip tightens, bruising around your wrists as he rubs the cool stone against you. 

“You’re so filthy,” he says in your ear, teeth nipping your lobe. Your teeth clamp your tongue to prevent a moan from coming out. You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Look at you squirming with my ring on you. So fucking naughty.”

Your breath leaves your lungs as you wrestle to control the electricity coursing through your veins. Every single fibre of your being comes alive, flares skyrocketing into the night as he thumbs your sensitive nub while his fingers continue exploring your insides. His fingers coil inside you in that delicious way that has your toes curling. “Jake, please,” you plead, “that feels so good, don’t stop.”

He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, going deeper each time. He goes knuckle-deep and you feel his ring buried inside you. The ridges are exquisite against your skin and the ring’s stone only adds to the width of his fingers. It fills you up fully. 

Tears prick your eyes at how wonderful everything feels. All of his movements – his large hand wrapped around your wrists, his fingers caressing your insides, the press of his ring impressing upon your skin – culminate in this tantalizing symphony of desire. Every single stroke is another melody in this performance, the tunes coming together in a beautiful composition. 

Your body is at the mercy of his hands as he continues his ministrations. He fingers you faster until you’re barely able to hold yourself up. Releasing your hands, he instead uses his free hand to grasp your jaw again, tilting your head so he can kiss you. He pushes his tongue through your lips and bends around yours. He tastes you until your knees nearly cave. 

“Jake, I can’t–” you gasp, “I can’t take it anymore. Please let me come.”

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart. Look at you so needy in my hands. I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

“Yes, fuck, only you,” you echo desperately, your hands now clinging to his shoulders to hold yourself up. You’re so close to your orgasm, the feeling climbing and chasing you through this maze of hunger. 

Jake’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Not what you were saying earlier, when you were threatening to go to someone else. Do you really think anyone else can make you feel the way I do? Do you think anyone else knows your body like I do?”

“N-no,” you stutter weakly. “Only you, Jake.” Another expletive leaves your mouth as he presses against that particularly effective spot. “Christ, if you don’t finish me right now–”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient,” he murmurs, nipping your lip. But he does what you ask. His fingers move more intentionally as his other hand moves from the back of your neck to your front, forcing off the tiny straps of your dress until your upper half is exposed. 

As he torments your cunt, his other hand grabs your breast over your bra. The matching piece of lingerie is thin so you can feel his every squeeze, every pinch of your nipple. You’re writhing in his hands and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Your fingers bury in his shoulders as you whine, pussy clenching around his fingers. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that. Come for me,” he coaxes, his voice so gentle against the filthy squelching of your cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a few more pumps and a brush of his thumb against your nipple, you fall apart in his hands. The climax wracks through your entire body like an earthquake, your entire being trembling with the pleasure that surges through you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers that are prolonging your orgasm. 

His fingers are a wet, sloppy mess and you look absolutely ruined. Your dress is barely clinging to you and your mind is still a haze of pure, unbridled lust. Jake, on the other hand, is smiling wide at you. Cocky prick. 

“Good?”

You huff, leaning against the wall as a last resort. “Good.”

When your eyes fall between his legs, you see the erection tenting his pants. Your mouth practically salivates at the sight, enticed. Your body signals that you’re ready for round two and Jake is in no state to be showing his face in front of his friends again. 

“Can’t wait to have your mouth on me tonight,” Jake grins.

You roll your eyes. The last thing you need is to feed his ego. You’ll never give him that sense of gratification. “In your fucking dreams, Seresin. After the stunt you pulled, you’re lucky if I don’t completely blue ball you tonight.” Slipping back into your dress, you push him off you, flicking your hair over your shoulder. 

His face falls as you walk away. “Wait, you’re kidding, right? Sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that to me!”

[divinesangel]

— random details about your future spouse [PAC]

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal reading! — 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

they've been through some stuff and came out the other side with a calm, steady mindset. they're the type who doesn't get easily shaken or overwhelmed by life’s challenges.

when things get hectic or stressful, they stay chill and don’t panic. they can handle chaos without losing their cool, making them someone you can rely on in tough situations.

they’re not the type to rush into things. they like to take things slow, think things through, and make sure they’re making the right moves, whether it’s in relationships, work, or life decisions.

they probably have a strong sense of family and respect for long-held values. they believe in things like loyalty, commitment, and honoring what came before, whether that’s family traditions or their own personal principles.

they’re either spiritual or have a strong personal philosophy that guides their life. they probably reflect on the bigger picture and have a deep understanding of their own purpose or place in the world.

they're not afraid to step out of their comfort zone. they love exploring new places, trying new things, and keeping life exciting. they can be spontaneous and enjoy breaking out of routines.

always thinking outside the box. they might have a knack for coming up with new ideas or solutions, whether it’s in their work, hobbies, or just life in general. they love expressing themselves in unique ways.

they don’t take shortcuts. they put in the effort and grind steadily toward their goals, even if it takes time. they understand that success is built on consistent work and dedication.

you can count on them, no questions asked. they keep their promises and show up when they say they will, whether it’s for something big or small. they’re the kind of person you can trust with anything.

they’ve got their finances together. they don’t live paycheck to paycheck, and they know how to manage money responsibly. they’ve probably built a secure foundation for themselves and are smart about financial decisions.

once they’re in, they’re in for the long haul. they’re fiercely loyal and protective of the people they love. they’ll stand by your side through thick and thin, and you’ll always know they’ve got your back no matter what.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

they’ve been through some tough stuff before (like heartbreak or betrayal), and they’re still working on getting over it. they’re in a process of healing, so they might be a bit cautious when it comes to love, but they’re definitely growing through it.

at times, they might feel a little lost or unsure about where they’re headed. they’re working on figuring things out, but they can get stuck in their head, trying to make the right choices. they may need a bit of time to get their confidence back before moving forward with big decisions.

they used to hold onto things too tightly, whether it was their money, their emotions, or their need to control everything. but now, they’re realizing they need to loosen up a bit and trust the process. they’re getting better at letting go of the things they can’t control.

they care a lot about building something real and secure for the future. they’re the kind of person who’s thinking about their career, their finances, and how to make sure they’ve got a strong foundation. they’re not into quick fixes; they’re focused on what lasts.

they can get caught up in the “what ifs” and feel like there are too many options to choose from. they might struggle with indecision or fantasizing about all the possibilities instead of making moves. they’re learning to focus and stop overthinking everything.

they’re someone who’s always looking for fresh starts. they might be starting a new chapter in their life—whether it’s career, relationships, or just personal growth. they’re focused on making things better and are always willing to work toward something new and more secure.

they’re ambitious and want more for themselves. they’re standing at a crossroads, thinking about what the next step looks like. they’re starting to plan ahead, but they’re also trying to figure out what path is the right one for them.

they’re soft-hearted and sensitive, not afraid to show their feelings. they’re the type to express their emotions and be vulnerable with the people they trust. they’re also really intuitive and can pick up on how others are feeling, offering emotional support when needed.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

they’re someone who’s got their life together and doesn’t rely on others to feel secure. they’re proud of what they’ve built and enjoy the rewards of their hard work. they’re confident in their own abilities and don’t need validation from anyone else.

they know that good things take time. they’re not into rushing through life but are all about putting in the work and letting things grow naturally. they’re all about steady progress and building something real and long-lasting.

sometimes they feel unsure of themselves, especially when things aren’t going as planned. they may have moments of questioning their strength or abilities. they’re still figuring out how to trust themselves fully, but they’re working through it.

they can be a little guarded, especially when it comes to their emotions or what they’ve worked hard for. they like to keep control, but they’re learning to let go and trust more. it’s a process, but they’re getting there.

they’re the type of person who handles life with a lot of maturity. they take responsibility seriously and know how to manage their finances, their career, and their relationships in a practical way. they don’t take shortcuts.

they can be hard to read sometimes, and their emotions are deeper than they let on. they’re intuitive and sensitive, but they often keep their feelings under wraps. they might struggle to fully express what they’re going through, but they’re working on understanding themselves better.

they don’t like rushing into decisions. they’ll spend a lot of time weighing out their options and might even avoid making tough choices altogether. they want to make sure they’re doing the right thing, but they can get stuck in overthinking.

when they finally make up their mind, they’re sharp, direct, and won’t hesitate to go after what they want. they’re all about clarity and truth, and once they’re sure about something, they’re confident in their actions.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €8 and soulmate readings for €15 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

[euphoricimagination]

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 - Part 2

Feat. Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Aoba Johsai

Since Seijoh’s volleyball club was very popular among the students, the coach had no problems in looking for someone to be there while you weren’t

In fact, the coach found two, mostly because there were a lot of duties during that week

Unnecessary in the eyes of the team, they were fine before you, they don’t need two of them now

Not even a day passed when the team were dreading this decision; not only they were Oikawa fans to begin with, but they were also annoying

Even Oikawa couldn’t find joy in this situation

The normally heartthrob of the team, the one that adores receiving attention, couldn’t stand them, missing your *playful* punches and scoldings

You luckily were able to hang out with them after their Sunday practice, when it had become a tradition to go to the nearest shopping mall to eat a meal as a team

So to surprise them, you went there without them, planning to raid their table

When you saw them walking into the food court you couldn’t help but giggle, one girl was holding the arm of a very disgusted Oikawa, while the other was clearly acting like a dude alongside an annoyed Iwaizumi, everyone else ignoring them

You started looking at the menus, deciding what to eat, ordering a burger and some fries

“Wow, you’re eating…that? Someone is not thinking about hot girls summer” you hear from your left, one of the girls looking at you as if you were committing a sin

“yeah I don’t care”

“That’s all you’re getting? I could not eat only that, I’m ordering like 6 burgers” another voice comes from your other side, the other girl was there too

“…ok” you say, starting to understand why the team was so fed up with them. The team looks mean, but they were never unnecessary rude

“can I have a salad? I wish I could eat..that, but I’m too worried about how I look, you know” the girl in your left says

“I just got done playing volleyball with the team, so I need like…6.000.000 calories, imagine only eating a salad” the other says, making you sigh

“I love your make up, by the way! It’s so…natural, I wish I had the confidence to not care about how I look on public, good for you!” the girl says with a sarcastic tone

“imagine even wearing make up every day and trying that hard, like I just roll out of bed an-”

“I don’t care about any of your thoughts, so shut up please” you say annoyed, you didn’t know if you were annoyed, uncomfortable or straight up angry, but before you could add anything else an arm wraps your shoulder

“Yn-chaan!” Oikawa squishes you

“Yn-san, you’re here!” Kindaichi exclaims, relief appearing on his face. Kunimi gets slightly closer to you, a move that means that he wants some type of affection, so you pat his head

“Y-you know her?” the princess type of girl asks, eyes wide

“She is our dear manager” Matsukawa adds, Hanamaki nodding with a smirk that only grew bigger when the girl shrieks

“H-her?! But she looks so weak! And I bet she doesn’t know shit about sports! Like.. she’s a girl!” the ‘tomboy’ girl says now

“don’t get too comfortable now, you were just a substitute for her, not the other way around. She is the best manager we could ever ask for” Oikawa says mockingly, hugging you tighter

“b-b-but…”

“you can leave now, we have our manager back, we don’t need you two here anymore” Iwaizumi ends the conversation, taking your tray with food as they all take you to the table

“I still have a few days that I can’t be there” you tell them once you were sitting

“we’ll manage” Iwaizumi says

“What Yn-chaan? Are you sure you aren’t missing this handsome face of mi-ouch!” Oikawa tries to say, but you punch him making the team laugh

You were at peace again

Fukurodani

Despite having another managers in their rooster, the coach decided to ask the manager of other team to help them out

After all the team is big, so another hand wouldn’t be bad

The team was nice, so they did try their best to make her feel welcome eve if it was for a week and a half

But she was making things hard

Washio tried to be a gentleman, but he ended up not interacting much with her

Konoha, in the other hand, was sarcastic, but she was either too dense or too delusional to realize

Akaashi tried to be understanding, but even he was starting to get tired of it

And Bokuto, even with his loud and extroverted personality, ended up just trying to avoid her

When you came back, you had the *amazing* opportunity to meet her first hand, right after entering the gym

What the guys have told you wasn’t particularly encouraging, yet you still wanted to give her a fair shot

“Why are you looking at me? It’s just a knee brace, you never seen something like this?” she tells you, before you could even say hi

“well, hi, nice to meet you too”

“So…you are the manager? The one that I’m replacing? Well, of course you don’t know what this is, since you don’t play any sports”

“well, before I kinda did some cheerleading, but it wasn't for me so I joined this idiots and…”

“exactly! Cheerleading isn’t a sport! Gosh, how are you even the manager of this team”

“Yn!!” Bokuto enters the gym, hugging you tightly as he spins around. Akaashi was behind, who gives you a smile

“If you were wondering! I got injured by playing football…and then basketball and then volleyball with the boys, remember that Bokuto?!”

“eh..nope” bokuto answers confused

“Well me neither”

“anyways! I’m back on the team, so thank you for…well, being here. I’ll take care of it from here on out…unless the guys want you to stay..?” you say

“NO!” a collective answer came in, way too quickly. You resisted a laugh

“well, that settles it, good luck with your knee brace” you push her out softly, a grunt coming from her

“Thank god you’re back Yn-chan” Akaashi tells you, the team patting your head lovingly

“we should celebrate! After practice lets go to eat!” Bokuto adds

“okay! Bokuto is paying!” Konoha says, going to the court to start practicing

You see bokuto whine as he goes too, everyone joining while making fun of the owl boy.

[jellybonbons]

Shared Apartment, Shared Feelings

Leon Kennedy x gn afab!reader

CW: 18+ (mdni), virgin reader, college roommate au, retired fuckboy!leon, vendetta trio (chris, leon & rebecca), talks about virginity/relationship/trauma (car accident), fluff/angst/smut, a lot of kissing, dick piercing, oral job (afab receiving), pussy slapping, thigh jobs, aftercare.

Words: 7.4k

A/N: special thanks to my wife @roseglazedlens for beta reading and helping me with the banners <3 muah muah

Without a doubt, college is such a drag. It’s a wonder you haven’t given up on yourself already, with all the assignments piling up, submissions one after another, professors breathing down your neck, dealing with crappy groupmates and customers from your part-time job. But here you are, almost three years deep into your degree, with no turning back now.

You sighed, feeling the strain in your fingers from typing away all day. The pressure was real with an assignment due in just a few days. You tried to unwind with a book and music, but the impending thought of reading through another paragraph might just make your head explode. 

It’s been known that college can get pretty lonely at times. Sure, you've got friends here and there, but they're all caught up in their own stuff, on top of all that, their partners. This is when you wish you had one yourself. You've had your fair share of relationships or flings in the past, but it never really went beyond first base – blame it on your commitment issues and insecurities.

Virginity is a funny thing, isn't it? Some people don't really give it much thought, while others, like yourself, see it as a significant part of who they are. To you, it's more than just a physical state – it's about vulnerability, about letting someone in and truly being seen. Maybe that's why your relationships never seem to last long. You realise now that you settled for them, not for yourself. You were caught up in the idea of a relationship rather than being honest with yourself about what you truly wanted and needed. 

Heading into college, you finally found yourself crushing on someone – your roommate, Leon Kennedy. Your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. It started with your classmate-turned-friend, Rebecca Chambers, asking if you wanted to live with her and two of her friends since they had an extra room. Without hesitation, you agreed – after all, why not? Splitting the rent between four people and having a bigger apartment than your current one sounded like a win-win. But when you finally met her two friends, it felt like you stumbled upon an adorable squirrel with her two guard dogs.

You could definitely say that Leon and his other friend, Chris Redfield, were pretty protective of her, but Rebecca reassured them that she trusted you and thought you were a lovely person – bless her heart. From that day on, the tension slowly dissipated, and all of you learned how to live with each other, quirks and all. If there was ever a disagreement, Chris would call for a 'family meeting' to sort things out.

You've grown close to both Chris and Rebecca, but with Leon, it's different. He's close, yet there's still a sense of distance.

—

Exhibit A: 

The huge, comfortable couch in the living room was decorated with a mismatched assortment of decorative pillows, giving the area a homely, well-worn feel. The walls were covered in posters of bands, and a shelf next to it held a tidy collection of DVDs. Game controllers, remote controls, and empty food wrappers were frequently strewn all over the coffee table – no matter how many times Rebecca told Chris and Leon to clean them up. The room had the ideal ambience for movie evenings thanks to the floor lamp's warm glow and the fairy lights. 

You noticed that Leon would always have your favourite snacks on hand, without you even needing to ask. But then again, he made sure to get snacks for everyone else too. You never once mentioned your favourite snacks to him – you guess he might have overheard you talking to Rebecca in the dining area while he was playing video games with Chris in the living room that one time.

"Here," Leon said, passing you the brightly wrapped package after doling out snacks to the others.

“Thanks,” you said, taking them from Leon. “How did you know these are my favourites?”

He shrugged casually. “Maybe I'm just good at picking up on things.” 

"But I've never told you," you pointed out, genuinely curious.

Leon hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got my ways of finding out,” he replied cryptically before turning away to grab a drink.

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his response. “Oh, well, thanks again.”

"Oh my god! It's been so long since I've eaten those," Rebecca, who was cuddled up next to you, exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she gazed at your snacks. You chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"You want some?" you offered, opening the snack package. 

"Yes, please!" she eagerly replied.

If you had turned back, you would have noticed Leon's ears turning a faint shade of red, but you were too focused on sharing the snacks with Rebecca to notice his reaction.

Exhibit B: 

Amidst the chaos of exam week, you and Chris had taken over the living room for a study session. Notes, textbooks, and Post-it notes were strewn everywhere, creating a cluttered workspace. Rebecca had wisely chosen to isolate herself in her room, knowing that if she joined you two, it would devolve into gossip rather than studying. As for Leon, he preferred the solitude of studying alone.

By 2 am, Chris had already succumbed to exhaustion, snoring away on the couch. Meanwhile, you were hunched over your notes on the floor, frustration building as you re-read the material for what felt like the hundredth time. A headache was starting to form, exacerbated by the late hour and Chris' snoring.

Lost in your work, you didn't notice Leon's quiet approach until he set a hot mug of green tea on the coffee table beside you. "Take a break," he said casually, before moving over to Chris and gently nudging him awake, signaling that it was time for him to call it a night.

"Hey, wake up," Leon whispered.

Chris grunted in response, rolling over to his side and snoring loudly. Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes and deliver a – gentle – punch to Chris's arm, hoping it would be enough to jolt him awake.

"Ouch! Damn, Leon, that hurts," Chris groaned, rubbing his arm where Leon had punched him.

Leon, unapologetic, raised an eyebrow at Chris. "Maybe if you didn't snore like a freight train, I wouldn't have to resort to violence." 

Chris, still rubbing his arm, shot you a playful glare. "Well, if someone didn't study so quietly, maybe I wouldn't need to fill the room with my soothing snores."

"Don't look at me, I'm just trying to study peacefully," you retorted, raising your hand in mock surrender while cradling the mug in your other.

"Yeah, right. Your snores are like lullabies, Chris. I almost fell asleep while making my late-night snack,” Leon said with a slight smirk. 

Chris mockingly gasped. "You wound me, Leon. My snores are an art form." 

You chuckled. "Well, gentlemen, whether it's an art form or a lullaby, it's time for the masterpiece to take a break. Chris, go get some beauty sleep." Chris nodded.

"You too, don't stay up too late," Leon said to you, shooting a glance in your direction before grabbing Chris by his shirt.

"I'm up, I'm up," Chris protested, his voice muffled as Leon playfully put him in a headlock and guided him towards his room.

You couldn't help but chuckle at their antics, taking another sip of your tea as you watched them disappear down the hallway.

—

You found yourself in a dilemma. Leon had always been just a friend, but lately, you couldn't shake off the growing attraction you felt towards him. It wasn't just his physical appearance that drew you in, although his blue eyes, his piercings and the little details about him were certainly captivating. It was the way he was always there for you, that’s what friends are for, right?

You discovered that you couldn't stop thinking about him, day or night. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, occupying your thoughts even when you were supposed to be focusing on something else. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his video game strategies or the way he would absentmindedly run his hand through his hair when he was deep in thought. And those moles scattered across his skin, you found yourself itching to trace your fingers over them, to memorise every little detail of him. 

But despite your growing feelings, you were hesitant to act on them. You cherished the ‘friendship’ you shared with Leon and you were afraid of risking it by admitting your true feelings. So for now, you kept your emotions buried deep within, hoping that they would eventually fade away – but they didn’t.

— 

Leon had been sceptical when Rebecca first introduced you to him and Chris. He thought you might have ulterior motives, using her to get closer to him for his body. After all, he had a reputation as a fuckboy, although he considered himself a retired one now. That's why both him and Chris were so protective of her; he didn't want to drag Rebecca into his messy past again.

However, Leon was genuinely surprised when he discovered that you didn't know much about his past. While you were aware of his existence, you weren't deeply immersed in campus drama, preferring to spend your time online with other interests. You treated him like any other person, and he found himself grateful for that. In the past, he had been the worst version of himself, indulging in alcohol, weed, and sex, using his body to get whatever he wanted. But hey, in this economy, whatever works. 

He had grown accustomed to people using him, whether it was for physical gratification or emotional support. It was the darkest chapter of his history, and his once-close friendship with Chris and Rebecca had deteriorated to the point where they were practically strangers, but that was six months ago. Now they were back to being three peas in a pod, their bond stronger than ever.

Then came that one fateful night – that one awful night – when he had drunk too much and made the reckless decision to drive home while intoxicated from a party. What great friends he had. 

As Leon stirred awake in the hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines punctured the air, accompanied by the clinical scent of antiseptic. His gaze fell upon Rebecca, slumbering peacefully in a chair beside his bed, though the fatigue evident in the bags beneath her eyes spoke of restless nights spent by his side. Summoning what little strength he could muster, he attempted to rouse her with a feeble movement of his finger.

Suddenly, Chris burst into the room, bearing two cups of coffee in hand. The sight of Leon awake nearly caused him to fumble the cups, hastily setting them down on a nearby table before rushing to his friend's bedside with evident concern. Rebecca, startled by Chris's sudden entrance and booming voice, blinked awake in a daze.

“Leon, you’re awake!” Rebecca's smile lit up the room as she clasped Leon's uninjured hand in hers.

Leon attempted to speak, but his dry throat betrayed him. Swift to notice, Chris quickly retrieved a water bottle and a straw for Leon. While Rebecca, with practised ease adjusted the bed to a more comfortable position, allowing Leon to sit up slightly. As soon as the straw touched his lips, Leon didn't hesitate to take a much-needed sip, the cool water soothing his parched throat.

Once he had quenched his thirst, Leon managed a weak smile of gratitude, his gaze shifting between Chris and Rebecca. "Thanks, guys," he murmured hoarsely, his voice still rough from disuse. 

"Was anyone else hurt?” he asked anxiously, recalling the events of the previous night with a sense of dread. He knew he had made a terrible mistake by driving under the influence, and he dreaded the thought of anyone else being harmed because of his actions. 

Chris exchanged a glance with Rebecca before answering, his expression sombre. "It was just you, Leon," he replied gently, placing a comforting hand on Leon's shoulder. "You're lucky, man. Could've been a lot worse."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, her worry evident in her eyes. "We're just glad you're okay," she added softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

For once in his life, he let his tears flow freely, openly crying in front of them. There were many reasons for his tears, but two stood out: their unwavering support despite his past behaviour and the stark realisation of how close he came to losing everything. It felt like a wake-up call, a sign that he needed to change his ways.

As both Chris and Rebecca leaned in for an embrace, he felt the warmth of their love enveloping him. That moment marked a new beginning for them. They took turns caring for him, offering support and encouragement every step of the way. And with their help, he began to see a therapist to address his trauma and work through his issues, determined to become a better version of himself.

He knew he wasn't perfect, but he was steadily making progress.

—

You were like a breath of fresh air, bringing a sense of normalcy to Leon's life outside his close circle of friends. The more he observed you, the more smitten he became. He found himself falling hard for you, enchanted by the melody of your voice and the way your smile lit up the room. Even when you laughed at his silly jokes while Chris and Rebecca remained unimpressed, it only deepened his infatuation. From your quick wit to your undeniable charm, he felt like a lovesick puppy in your presence. 

Many moments with you left a lasting impression on Leon. One night, he had fallen asleep on the couch, and you had just returned from a night shift. Spotting Leon asleep, you crept, careful not to disturb him. You gently placed your belongings on the dining table before quietly slipping into his room to retrieve a blanket.

You returned with the blanket and draped them over him, ensuring he stayed warm throughout the night. As you crouched down beside him, you couldn't resist the urge to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, smiling softly at the peaceful expression on his sleeping face. 

As you quietly left the room and retreated to your own, Leon being the light sleeper he was, felt a rush of emotions flooding through him. His heart raced as he became aware of your proximity, even in his slumber. The gentle touch of your hand and the warmth of your presence lingered in his mind, leaving him feeling strangely comforted yet unsettled all at once. It was a moment he couldn't shake, stirring something within him that he couldn't quite put into words.

These mixed emotions were still present during another memorable moment, when you, Chris, Rebecca, and Leon gathered for a pizza dinner. Chris, in his usual generous fashion, ordered a variety – cheese, pepperoni, and BBQ pizzas. The living room transformed into a makeshift dining area as you all settled in to watch a movie while enjoying the feast. Despite the lively atmosphere, Leon found himself quietly observing you, the feelings from the previous night still lingering in his mind, adding a layer of depth to the otherwise ordinary gathering.

Whatever, he shook his thoughts away.

As the pizza boxes opened, Leon grabbed a slice of the BBQ pizza, only to discover a surplus of onions. His displeasure was evident and despite his efforts to discreetly pick off the offending toppings, the struggle did not go unnoticed by you.

Your laughter bubbled up as you observed Leon's onion-removing antics. "Not a fan of onions, huh?" you teased.

"Nah, I don’t like the extra crunch," Leon replied, continuing to pick them off.

You extended your plate towards him. "Just give them to me; I like onions," you offered with a smile.

"Really? Thanks," Leon responded, handing you the onion-laden slices.

"You need to stop being such a picky eater, Leon," Chris chimed in between bites of his pizza.

Leon shook his head defiantly. "Nope, not happening," he retorted, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Rebecca joined in, adding with a playful grin, "Hey, at least now we know who the real onion lover is around here!" 

After your laughter died down, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Leon – you loved onions, but little did they know that you had a particular disdain for red onions.

Despite all this, Leon couldn't shake the memories that haunted him. Beneath the surface of his laidback demeanour lay a vulnerability he had yet to reveal to anyone outside his close circle of friends.

It was a sunny morning as you and Leon walked side by side to class, chatting idly about your schedules. But then your conversation was abruptly interrupted by the screech of tyres from behind, a sharp, piercing sound that seemed to echo through Leon's bones.

Without warning, Leon's steps faltered, his body freezing in place as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened with fear, his muscles tensing as if preparing for impact.

You sensed the shift in his demeanour immediately, instincts kicking in as you turned to face him, concern etched across your features. "Leon?" you called softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Don't," he said sharply, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and frustration. "Please, just... don't touch me."

You froze, your heart sinking at the rejection. You had never seen Leon react like this before, and the realisation only fueled your determination to help him.

"Okay," you said softly, pulling your hand back. "I won't touch you. But I'm here, Leon. You're not alone."

Leon's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to regain control of his racing thoughts.

Thinking quickly, you searched for another way to reach him. You remembered the breathing exercises you learned from the internet, the rhythmic pattern designed to calm the mind in moments of distress.

"Leon," you said gently, your voice a steady anchor in the storm of his panic. "Listen to me. We're going to try something, okay? Just focus on my voice."

Leon nodded hesitantly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

"Close your eyes," you instructed, your own voice calm and measured. "Now, take a deep breath in through your nose... and out through your mouth. Good. Now, let's do it again. In... and out."

Together, both of you repeated the breathing exercises; Leon's tense muscles gradually relaxing with each steady breath. You kept your voice low and soothing, guiding him through the process with gentle encouragement.

The chaotic noise of the campus faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your shared breaths. And with each passing moment, Leon felt the grip of panic loosening its hold, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

"Thank you," Leon whispered as he finally opened his eyes, his voice hoarse with overwhelming emotions.

 "Anytime.” You smiled softly at him.

—

You were attractive, considerate, attentive, but sometimes sarcastic — all the more reason to love you. So imagine his surprise when, during one of your deep conversations, you dropped the bombshell: "I'm still a virgin."

Leon's reaction was immediate. "Wait, what?" His eyes widened in disbelief, and he nearly choked on the iced tea Rebecca had made for everyone.

You couldn't help but smirk at his reaction, finding his surprise somewhat amusing. "Yeah, I know, right?" you replied casually, trying to downplay the moment. "Just never felt the rush, I guess."

Leon's expression softened, his initial shock giving way to an understanding. "Well, that's... unexpected," he admitted, his voice laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "But hey, it's your choice, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah," you said, taking a sip of the iced tea. You couldn't help but grimace as the sweetness hit your taste buds; Rebecca had gone a bit overboard with the sugar again. “I guess, I just have a hard time trusting people to truly see me, you get it?” you said, revealing a vulnerability that Leon hadn't seen before. 

“Just the idea of letting someone see a vulnerable side of you and then, things fall apart, and that person is not in your life anymore... it's terrifying."

Leon nodded thoughtfully, the flicker of a reassuring smile appearing on his lips. "I get it," he responded softly, his eyes reflecting understanding. 

"It's hard to open up when you've been hurt before. But not everyone is the same, you know? And sometimes, taking that risk can lead to something beautiful."

"Yeah, but I’m not ready to take that risk," you pondered, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Leon leaned forward, his expression gentle. "That's okay," he said. "It's all about timing, and when you're ready, you'll know. Until then, just focus on being true to yourself." If the old Leon heard this, he would cringe in disgust at how poetic he has become. 

“Aw, look at you, Mr. Wise man,” you teased, playfully punching his shoulder.

“Hey, I have experience, okay,” he chuckled, offering a playful wink. "Life's full of surprises, and you never know when the right person might come along." Leon thought to himself, hoping silently that he could be that person for you.

To be your person — it was a dream he cherished deeply. He already felt privileged enough to see you with your dishevelled hair every morning, to enjoy the breakfasts you made, to hear you humming to yourself as you cleaned the apartment, and to witness all the little quirks that made you... you.

Like the way you always insisted on starting your day with a cup of hot warm water because of its health benefits. Or how you had a habit of tapping your fingers on any surface whenever you were anxious. The way you collect little trinkets and gift them to others because they reminded you of them, or how you could never resist stopping to take pictures of the sky when it looked especially pretty. The way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, and how you always double-knot your shoelaces because "you can't be too careful,” even though they somehow always come undone, so he has to tie them for you again — cue to Rebecca and Chris giggling quietly at the back.

“Yeah, who knows?” you replied with a smile, stopping him from his daydreaming state. 

Leon looked into your eyes, a gentle warmth spreading through his chest. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you at that moment. Your smiles softened, and a comfortable silence settled between you. Time felt like it slowed down as you both gazed at each other, the unspoken words and hidden shared feelings hanging in the air.

However, the moment was cut short when cock-block Chris slid the balcony doors open, surprising you guys. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Chris said, his voice breaking the momentary silence. "But I thought you might want to join us for board games. Rebecca's been bugging me to drag you both inside.”

You chuckled at Chris's interruption. "Sure, sounds like fun," you replied, shooting a playful glance at Leon.

Leon grinned in response, a twinkle in his eye as he nodded in agreement. "Let's go then," he said, rising from his seat and motioning for you to follow. 

“Can’t wait to beat you in Monopoly,” you added with a mischievous grin, earning a playful scoff from Leon.

“Dream on,” Leon replied with a playful smirk, grabbing both his and your drink before heading back inside.

“Hey, we know Rebecca is the master of Monopoly,” Chris chimed in.

"Yeah, you’re right, she always bankrupts us within the first hour," you agreed with a laugh.

"Alright, let's see if we can finally overthrow the reigning champion," Leon said with determination, leading the way back inside.

—

You should have been spending your weekend with friends, but alas, the call of assignments beckoned you to spend the week in your room. Your fingers moved on autopilot as you typed away on your laptop, nearing the end of your essay. All that remained were the conclusion and the references. 

This was the second time you had to redo this assignment. Your professor, Dr. Wesker, critiqued it during the tutorial, and it fell short of his expectations, so you had to incorporate the points you had missed. You made a mental note to give him three stars in the end-of-semester review – that being generous — and to punch Chris because he said Wesker’s class was easy. No, it was not; Wesker made sure to run the class like the Navy.

As the evening turned into night, you fueled your essay-writing spree with a touch of spite. The anticipation of going to the new jazz bar in your area with your friends was the added motivation. Empty instant coffee cans littered your desk, proving your determination. In the apartment, it was just you and Leon; Chris was visiting his sister, Claire, while Rebecca was out on a date with Billy. Helping Rebecca get ready had only made you more jealous of her evening out. Ever the sweetheart, she noticed you were down and promised to bring back treats for you as a reward.

The apartment felt unusually quiet, with only the hum of your laptop and the distant sounds of city life filtering through the windows. The silence was a stark reminder of the fun you were missing out on. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing Leon was just in the other room, a silent presence that somehow made the tedious task of essay writing a bit more bearable.

However, the universe was not on your side as your old laptop finally decided to give up on you. Despite all your efforts — charging, troubleshooting, and pleading — it refused to turn back on. "No, no, no, no!" you exclaimed, punctuating each word with a frustrated slam of your hand against the desk. Scratch that, Dr. Wesker is getting only one star and a long paragraph in the comment section.

Hearing the commotion from Leon’s bedroom, he paused his game and rushed into your room. "What happened?!" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You looked at him with tears streaming down your face. "My laptop won't open," you said.

His face softened as he approached you. "I'm assuming you've tried everything," he remarked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Leon reassured you, his tone soothing. "What did you use to do your assignment on?" he inquired, rolling your chair closer to him and kneeling down in front of you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Google Docs," you replied.

He nodded reassuringly. "Okay, they have an auto-save feature, so your work is still there. In the meantime, you can use mine." Leon wiped away your tears with his thumb. "I know a guy who can fix your laptop, so you don't have to worry."

Leon's comforting touch eased your tension slightly. "Thanks," you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I'm sorry for lashing out. It's just….it’s been a stressful week."

He offered you a sympathetic smile. "No need to apologise," he said softly. "We all have our moments.”

"You're too good for me," you whispered, your gratitude evident in your eyes.

Leon's sympathetic expression softened further as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Hey, don't say that," he replied earnestly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend. And if you ever need someone to talk to or help you through tough times, I'm here for you, always.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” you said softly as you wiped the remaining tears away.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Then, you hesitated before speaking again.

"Leon... there's something I've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we're friends, but... lately, I've been feeling something more. I can't shake this feeling that there's something between us, something deeper?"

Leon's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he didn't interrupt as you continued.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush as you fidget with your fingers, feeling vulnerable and exposed. "I just needed to get it off my chest."

For a moment, there was only silence as Leon processed your words. Then, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, stopping you from fidgeting. On the inside, he was literally jumping up and down and screaming internally. His heart raced with excitement and joy, but he kept his composure, squeezing your hand gently to convey his feelings.

“I... I've been feeling the same way," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "I didn't know if you felt the same, but… I've been wanting to tell you how I feel for a while now." His hands felt warm against your cold ones, a reassuring touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

"But are you sure you want to be with someone like me? I’m a bit damaged,” he confessed, his voice carrying a hint of insecurity. As you shared a tender gaze, his vulnerability spilled out. 

"At the same time… I want to be with you. You keep me grounded, and every day I feel like I'm becoming a better version of myself because of you. But I don’t want to burden you with my baggage."

Your heart swelled with affection as you reached out to cup his face, gently wiping away the traces of doubt etched there. "Leon, I see you, all of you, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Being damaged doesn’t make you any less worthy of love and happiness. We all have our scars and struggles. What matters is that you’re taking steps to heal, to become the best version of yourself. And I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

At that moment, Leon knew he couldn't let his fears hold him back any longer.

Leon’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to stand still as he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a passionate heartfelt kiss. His hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart. 

The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he couldn’t put into words—  the love, the gratitude, the desire. His lips moved against yours with fervent need, and as you responded, you could feel the weight of his insecurities lifting, replaced by the warmth of your mutual affection. 

Breaking the kiss, Leon scooped you up from your chair with ease, his arms strong and secure around you. He carried you to your bed and gently laid you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The tenderness in his eyes spoke volumes as he caressed your face.

"You mean everything to me, and I want to be the one you can always rely on." He leaned in for another kiss, sealing his promise with the warmth of his embrace. “Just how I can rely on you.”

When Leon's words settled in, you felt a rush of emotion swell in your chest. You reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your touch and moving down to his neck where his moles were. The tenderness in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you could see the sincerity behind every word he had spoken.

Leon let out a gasp as your fingers continued their gentle exploration, the touch feeling soft and human against his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. Letting out a sigh of contentment, he buried his face against your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the comforting mix of laundry detergent and coffee, so wonderfully homey.

“God, you don’t know how much you've softened me.” He chuckled softly, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

You couldn't help but tease him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "Big, tough Leon going all soft on me?"

He lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a grin. "Yeah, you have that effect on me," he admitted. "Never thought I'd be saying that."

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. "Well, I kind of like this softer side of you," you teased, your eyes sparkling. "Makes me feel special."

"You are special," Leon whispered, his expression turning serious. "More than you know."

“Leon…I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady but your heart racing.

“Ready for what, sweetheart?” he asked, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. He liked how it felt, unlike the generic terms, ‘Babe’ and ‘Baby’ he had used for his past flings when he didn’t bother to remember their names.

“Ready… for you to take my virginity.”

Leon’s eyes widened slightly before he softened, his expression filled with tenderness. "Oh… you're so precious. Not now, okay? I want to take you out on a date first."

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently. “I can make you feel good without taking it…do you trust me?”

“I do,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth.

“Then just relax," he said softly. "I’m here, and I’ll gladly help you release your stress.”

Without another word, Leon closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate, desperate kiss — a culmination of months of longing and pent-up desire. All your worries and stress melted away as you sought solace in each other’s embrace.

As the kiss deepened, Leon’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer with a strong need to please you. The hunger and longing that had built up over the months drove you both, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity neither of you had ever felt before.

Leon’s fingers deftly found the hem of your sweater, slowly lifting it up and over your head. As your bare skin met the cool air, a wave of shyness washed over you. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself. 

Leon paused, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and gentle reassurance. He reached out, his hands gently removing yours from your chest. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “You’re beautiful, and I want to see all of you.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, and you felt your body relax under his touch, trusting him completely.

“Leon…” 

With a reassuring smile, Leon stepped back slightly and grasped the hem of his own shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the defined lines of his chest, the faint scars that marked his skin, and the tantalising happy trail leading down from his naval.

“See? Nothing to be shy about.” Leon had come so far, enduring countless battles, to reach this moment of vulnerability and softness with you.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the sight of his happy trail peeking through his sweatpants. His lips, slightly swollen from your shared kisses, only added to the heat coursing through you. The mere thought of kissing him had you feeling an ache between your legs — maybe those cringy scenes in films about virgin sex aren’t so fake after all. As you squeezed your thighs together unconsciously, he chuckled softly and gently pulled them apart.

"You okay there?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You laughed nervously, trying to mask your embarrassment. "Yeah, just... overwhelmed, I guess."

Leon's chuckle deepened. "I'd say that's a good sign," he teased, his fingers tracing a soothing pattern on your thigh. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

Leon's fingers trailed along the curve of your thigh, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. "Have you ever... touched yourself before?" he asked softly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his question, the sensation of his touch combined with the intimacy of his inquiry making your heart race. "Um, well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

Leon's touch became even more tender, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he leaned in closer. "Tell me about it," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "I want to know everything."

“I... I just use my fingers,” you confessed, feeling a little embarrassed by the simplicity of your answer. You found yourself rambling about the prices of sex toys and how impractical they seemed, but Leon's attention was elsewhere as he trailed his fingers down to your clothed heat.

With unabashed hunger, he traced his fingertips over the fabric shielding your wetness, sending shivers through you. He moved lower, his mouth finding your inner thighs, licking and biting gently, his breath hot against your skin.

As you continued to ramble with hitched breaths, Leon nodded along, occasionally responding with a thoughtful "hmm" here and there. His lips pressed against your clothed mound and his tongue piercing tracing circles over the fabric. Each teasing lick and swirling motion sent shivers coursing through your body.

“Leon, fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips toward his face.

His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he slid down your underwear, revealing your glistening folds. His tongue darted out, flicking against your swollen clit while his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place.

Leon savoured the taste of your arousal, relishing how you quivered beneath him, desperate for more. His lips closed around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue worked in skilled motions. As your moans filled the room, he intensified his assault, his tongue delving deeper and applying more pressure.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your slick folds, his voice filled with possessiveness. “My special sweetheart.” With a playful yet firm touch, he lightly slapped your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

Your breath hitched at Leon's possessive words and instinctively, wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him closer and squeezing them together in response. The sensation of his tongue and lips working so intimately against you, combined with the pressure of your thighs around him, heightened the intensity of your pleasure.

“Leon!” you babbled his name like a prayer as he worked his tongue on you. Each flick and swirl of his tongue made you tremble, the overwhelming sensation almost too much to bear. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as you surrendered to him.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, Leon started to grind himself against the mattress. His sweatpants strained against his growing erection. He could feel the dampness of his pre-cum soaking through the fabric, each grind intensifying the need coursing through him. His cock strained painfully against the confines of his pants, desperate for release as he focused on bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.

Your breathing grew ragged, and you could feel the tightening coil of release building within you. Instinctively, your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair tightly as you arched your back, your body seeking more of his touch. The sharp tug made Leon grunt, a deep, guttural sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. 

Despite the pain, he refused to relent, his determination evident in the way he continued to devour you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue and lips worked with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, refusing to let you go.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, you surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal bliss. Leon held you through it all, refusing to let you go until you were utterly undone beneath him, lost in the euphoria of the moment.

As you lay there, panting and trembling, Leon parted from your cunt, his chin and lips glistening with your release. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes, before tenderly kissing your clit. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I could devour you all night."

Your cheeks heated up due to his remarks, a turbulent rush of feelings that filled your senses with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Under the intensity of his gaze, you quivered, feeling another desire surge through you again.

Leon leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he spat on your cunt, the warm liquid mixing with your own arousal. He clumsily peeled off his sweatpants, revealing his hard, straining cock. He positioned himself between your legs, pushing your thighs together to create a tight, plush space.

With a low groan, Leon began to stroke himself between your thighs, the friction against your slick skin sending jolts of pleasure through him. Each thrust caused his piercing to occasionally bump against your clit, sending thrilling shocks through your body and making you gasp with the unexpected sensation.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, his eyes fixated on the scandalous sight before him — the view of his reddened and swollen tip emerging from the clutch of your thighs. 

You were certain Leon would leave bruises on your thighs from the way he was gripping them. “I’m gonna... gonna—shit,” Leon whimpered, quickening his pace. His thrusts became urgent and forceful, driven by an insatiable hunger for release. The air was filled with the sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. He leaned over you, shifting into a mating press with your legs squished to your chest and his balls slapping against your ass.

With a few more thrusts, Leon succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing as he spilt himself between your thighs and stomach. Waves of ecstasy washed over him, and he continued to move, riding out his orgasm with a mix of intense relief and satisfaction. His body trembled with aftershocks and his breathing erratic as he slowly descended from the high.

As Leon collapsed beside you, panting and spent, he realised that you hadn't come for the second time. He then shifted his position, propping himself up on one elbow as he glanced down at your flushed form. Seeing the need still evident in your eyes, he gently brushed his fingers over your slick folds, seeking out your swollen clit.

"Let me take care of you again," he cooed as he began to rub gentle circles over your sensitive bud. With each stroke, he felt your body respond, the tension building once more as you whimpered and writhed beneath his touch.

Leon focused entirely on bringing you to the peak of pleasure, his movements deliberate and precise as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, and your hips bucked against his hand, signalling how near you were to release. With a shuddering gasp, you finally reached your climax. Leon’s grip was steady as you trembled beneath him, lost in the overwhelming euphoria.

He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed. "I'll be right back," he whispered, leaving the room momentarily to grab a warm, damp towel. Returning swiftly, he carefully wiped away the sweat and traces of cum from your skin.

Once he finished, he picked up your discarded sweater from the floor and slipped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were comfortable. You nestled into its warmth as Leon retrieved his own sweatpants and pulled them on.

Returning to your side, he asked softly, "Feeling better?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you snuggled closer to him. "Yeah, much better. Thanks for taking care of me."

He smiled back, his eyes filled with affection, and gently massaged the nape of your neck. "How was the aftercare? It's my first time doing it."

You chuckled softly. "Honestly, I can't say much about it since I don't have any experience either."

Leon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess we're both new at this. Maybe I should include 'aftercare specialist' on my résumé."

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but only if I get to be your reference."

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Deal."

Pics are from pinterest and edited by: @roseglazedlens

Dividers by: @chachachannah

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

how many drinks?

stiles stilinski x fem!reader NSFW

a dirty lunchroom hypothetical gets stiles hot and bothered. hopefully no one notices the suspicious placement of his hands over his crotch, especially not you.

word count: 2.8K  read time: 10min

warnings & info: nothing is in canon, everyone is probably ooc, pining, crushing!stiles, masturbation, spice, other suggestive nonsense

<_______>

“stiles, how many drinks would you have to down to fuck me?” you ask matter-of-factly, turning your head to meet your sentence’s subject from across your full lunch table.

“i said about twelve shots, at least,” scott states passively from your left side, not bothering to look up from his biology textbook.

“and i said, you don’t count. you couldn’t get drunk if you tried,” you sneer back. you turn your eyes back to stiles’s amber ones. “then lydia said like, five. i mean we’ve made out at parties before so…” you trail off with a sinful smile, exposing both your palms in the act of confession.

“i thought that was our little secret, y/n!” lydia feigns indignation at your right side, turning her head away from her boyfriend to pout her red lips at you in an exaggerated manner.

“when have you guys made out at a party?” jackson asks, almost licking his lips with excitement.

“you’re lucky she doesn’t swing that way, or it wouldn’t have just stopped at making out,” you snipe back. jackson’s face seems to loose all color at this sentiment and lydia rolls her eyes at you as she begins to reassure him in a quieter tone. you couldn’t stand his consistent pattern of insecurity, as evident by you asking such a personal question to your entire friend group in the middle of the lunch period, without a care in the world.

stiles is grateful that this bickering exchange took place quicker than he could answer your question. he’s also grateful that he’d already finished eating and naturally placed his hands in a clasp over his lap. he hadn’t realized how helpful that position would become, as he feels his blood rushing downward, something he was unfortunately used to happening around you.

there was the first time he saw you in a bikini at one of lydia’s summer parties. he was already in the pool when you came out of her house in the hot pink number and thus became trapped. unless he wanted to expose his aching hard-on to his entire friend group, (which was barely concealed under the paper-thin fabric of his fucking neon green swim trunks), he thought it’d be best to just stay in the water until he felt he could control himself. 

that time didn’t come until two hours later when you’d finally decided to change back into your clothes in lydia’s room. after cursing at himself for conjuring that mental image, (which did not help the uncomfortable throb of his too-hard cock), he finally went soft enough to get out of the damn pool and dry off. that was the day he crossed swimming off the list of activities he could do in your presence.

another time, stiles had tagged along with you and lydia as you went homecoming dress shopping. it was supposed to be a lot bigger of a group, but melissa had grounded scott for whatever indiscretion he’d committed that week, jackson had a mandatory family thing, allison & issac had opted out of hoco that year, the twins skipped town for a few days, all of your girlfriends were busy and all of lydia’s scoffed at her when she suggested buying a dress from the mall instead of a luxury boutique. 

lydia had disappeared into the jewelry section for a comical amount of time and then it was just you, modeling dress after dress for stiles. his jaw was clenched as he tried his best to keep his gaze focused on friend-appropriate areas of your body and will the blood to drain from his cock, which was poking uncomfortably against the seam of his jeans. 

you’d exited the changing room in a form-fitting red dress that ended just past your knees with a problem that stiles knew would further his arousal; you couldn’t zip your dress up on your own.

you’d easily let him inside the enclosed space, shooting down his dazed protests that he was pretty sure this store’s staff wouldn’t approve of two teenagers in a closed changing room together. you’d gathered your hair to one side and turned around, and stiles had felt all the air leave his lungs. 

this dress’s zipper started at your tailbone so the entirety of your back was exposed to him, causing his erection to pulse, almost painfully now. he approached you slowly, his hands shaking as one of them gripped the tiny metallic zipper. he placed the other one’s open, sweaty palm on the fabric over your shoulder, being careful to not grip down. as he started to tug on the zipper it was giving him a lot more resistance than he expected. 

you ordered him to stand closer and pull harder, as the dress was tight and wouldn’t close easily. stiles had complied and tried his best to keep his brain from melting out of his ears at this entirely unexpected close contact. he had been even less successful at keeping the precum from leaking from his cock, which was now screaming at him to close the short distance between you two. when the dress was finally zipped up and you turned to face him, his face was bright red and he breathlessly excused himself to the bathroom.

stiles needed a release and couldn’t wait until he got back home; this shopping trip was already hours long and he couldn’t stand to be this hard around you for even another second. so he dropped his pants in the first open stall he saw and wrapped his shaking hand around his cock, pumping desperately. 

he pictured that silver zipper moving in reverse, downwards, and then the dress being removed entirely, forgotten on his bedroom floor as he explored more of your skin than he’d ever seen before. he came nauseatingly quickly, in one thick spurt that he’d actually had the forethought to aim into the toilet. 

as he came down from his rushed orgasm, stiles gave himself a few more slow pumps from his well-experienced right hand and it finally dawned on him how pathetically perverted he was. that he had to resort to jacking off in the stall of a mall restroom to be able to function around you for the rest of the day. he’d vowed never to go shopping with you again.

“i’d say i’d need a solid seven or so,” allison muses, clearly giving the prospect some thought, “if it weren’t for him, obviously,” she smiles sweetly at her boyfriend’s brooding figure.

“my girlfriend is a connoisseur of deadly weapons, so i’m staying out of this,” issac continues modestly, leaning in to kiss allison on the cheek. the gesture is sweet but also definitively off topic, so you turn your gaze to the twins.

“sweetheart, if i could get drunk, i’d need to be blackout to sleep with you. i haven’t looked at a girl since i discovered young leo dicaprio in like, the fourth grade,” ethan retorts playfully.

“if i could get drunk, i’d only need like, three drinks to fuck you,” aiden chimes in boldly, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at you. you deadpan at him.

“that wouldn’t count even if you weren’t a werewolf; you’d fuck anything with a pulse and two X chromosomes,” you drawl venomously. for the upteenth time, you turn your eyes back to stiles.

“stiles, please. you’re the only guy at this table that isn’t taken or a cursed-to-be-sober werewolf. how many shots would you have to take to fuck me? i’m just curious; i won’t be offended if the answer is like, fifty,” you chuckle.

stiles chuckles as well, for an entirely different reason. his dick is rock-hard in his sweatpants and you think it might take him fifty shots to want to fuck you? now that’s laughable.

of course, he can’t tell you the real answer, which is a resounding zero. he would want to fuck you after a night of blissful sleep, completely stone-cold sober, at nine o’clock in the morning but if he said that you’d almost certainly sic the literal pack of wolves at this table on him. he searches his mind for an acceptable number of drinks that would make it ok for him to reveal he wants to fuck you when his friends suddenly chime in, their comments snowballing into an avalanche that threatens to bury stiles alive.

“come on stiles, y/n’s hot. surely it wouldn’t take that many,” lydia goads in a sing-song voice.

oh i’m aware that y/n is hot. i’m so aware, lydia, that most nights i moan her name out loud as i cum into my hand.

“yeah, you’re a teenage boy. all teenage boys are stupidly horny,” allison chimes in, backing up her friend as she shoots wild eyes at issac, clearly aware of this trait in her own boyfriend.

all teenage boys are stupidly horny, allison, and i am stupidly horny for y/n, thanks for seeing right through me.

“that’s true,” issac concurs with a mischievous smile.

“can’t argue with that,” scott agrees with a slight nod.

“glad i’m not the only one,” aiden jokes with a smirk.

“so, stiles, you gonna answer or just sit there like an idiot?” jackson quips, his confidence clearly recovered from the verbal blow you dealt him earlier. stiles’s eyes narrow.

“are you gonna answer jackson?” stiles spits. he knows that comment is a low blow considering his girlfriend is practically sitting on top of him but he’s desperate to turn the attention away from himself.

“y/n’s not my type. i prefer redheads,” jackson pinches lydia’s hip and leans in to kiss her, ending his participation in this discussion.

“and thank god for that because i don’t understand why lydia doesn’t find him repulsive,” you reply, returning your eye contact with stiles. “i’ll tell you how many drinks it’d take me to fuck you, stiles, if that’ll help,” you continue slyly.

stiles’s heart begins to race at just the thought of there being a bar to cross that might get you to fuck him. his mouth has gone too dry to speak, which actually isn’t too much of a problem because his brain is entirely drawing blanks as to how to respond to the most terrifying, wonderful sentence you’ve ever said to him.

“uh…ok. how many drinks would it take, y/n?” stiles finally asks in the most even, non-desperate tone his perverted mind can muster in this moment. whatever the answer is, as soon as the lunch bell rings he will be racing to the nearest bathroom to relieve himself over it. precum is already sliding down his agonizingly erect tip and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to start stroking himself through his sweatpants right then and there.

“hmm,” you hum, your eyes raking over stiles in an analytical manner. your friends are all only half-listening now, with most of them breaking off into separate, two-person conversations on the side. stiles has your undivided attention and he’s probably the only person who will remember your answer to this question anyways.

“i’d say i’d need like six shots and a few beers in me to try and fuck you, stiles,” you say with indifference. an awfully specific answer, but stiles’s mind is already delusionally spiralling. you could be quite the heavy drinker at parties and you’d easily clear that many at one of lydia’s house parties. what would happen if he actually tried? is this just a hypothetical? or is this a legitimate bar to cross?

“why that many?” stiles squeaks out, trying not to sound desperate.

“i don’t know,” you shake your head and keep your gaze fixed on a spot far away, above stiles’s head, “i mean, you’re cute and all dude, don’t get me wrong. but you’re pretty awkward. if i wanted to fuck up our whole friend group dynamic i’d have to be drunk enough to not remember all the bad jokes you’d probably make,” you explain evenly, ending with a snort.

stiles’s ears are ringing. he can’t decide which emotion is more intense; the deep, swooning pride swelling in his chest at the ‘cute’ comment or the pit-in-his-stomach embarrassment at the ‘awkward’ comment. he’s also still impossibly hard, which adds an extra level of confusion to the cocktail of emotions brewing in his addled mind.

“that’s fair,” he responds somewhat softly. giving that you just gave him an incredibly detailed answer that he was trying not to etch into the walls of his mind as a tutorial for later, he finally feels confident enough to try to answer back.

“i think i’d need about the same,” he starts, his voice betraying him with a crack on the last syllable. he pauses, before deciding to be bold; “probably a few less though. i am a horny teenage boy, after all,”

“true true. so let’s go with like, 5 shots even, then?” you ask with a dazzling smile that somehow makes stiles’s knees weak even though he’s seated.

“yeah,” he nods sheepishly, his dick throbbing along with the movement of his head. if he doesn’t get his hand wrapped around himself in the next few minutes, he might just cum in his pants. the images of you letting him fuck you after a booze-filled party is almost too much to bear. and then, as if god himself wanted to give him an out, the bell rings.

“y/n you are seriously strange. i don’t know how you come up with these questions,” lydia asks with a disgusted look on her face, as the entire group stands and collects their things to leave.

“yeah how’d we even get on the topic in the first place?” scott asks.

“we were talking about lydia’s party this weekend and then about some of the worst things we’ve done while drunk. then allison said she tried to hook up with a friend while she was drunk once like a year ago and that prompted me to ask how many drinks it’d take all of us to hook up with each other,” you rattled off, grabbing your backpack and your ridiculously large, pink metal water bottle.

“oh yeah the party this weekend,” aiden interjects loudly. “well i guess we’ll have to put your theory to the test, huh stiles?” he claps stiles on the shoulder, sending an unpleasant lurch through his already on-edge body. aiden is the last person he wants to be touching him right now, as he holds a large notebook in front of his crotch and prepares to make a beeline for the bathroom, lest he blow his load right now onto this poor college-ruled writing apparatus.

“what theory?” he manages to question in a low voice that’s thick with lust. aiden doesn’t notice and continues.

“the drink theory! you and y/n are both single. lets see if she’ll really fuck you after a couple of shots,” he finishes devilishly, catching the door to the lunch room from the person in front of him and holding it for you to walk through. aiden relishes in being the instigator, but it doesn’t seem to phase you.

“stiles, if we fuck this weekend, promise me it won’t ruin our friendship?” you ask in a sugary sweet voice that’s dripping with sarcasm. it doesn’t matter though. the pent-up hormones racing through stiles’s body don’t care if you’re joking or not. his cock twitches and even more precum slides down his bricked shaft. he’s seriously starting to believe that all the blood that’s supposed to be in his brain is in his dick right now. 

he weakly whispers “no promises” under his breath as he ducks into the nearest bathroom, leaving you to wonder aloud to your friends why the fuck he exited the conversation so quickly. then ethan tugs on your shirt sleeve to ask you a question about the math homework from the pre-calc class you share and your mind moves on.

stiles doesn't though.

finally. he thinks to himself as he pulls down his sweatpants and now-sticky boxers with record speed in the locked stall. the warmth of his hand around his aching cock after so many torturous minutes of it pulsing untouched in his pants almost makes him cum instantaneously.

he strokes himself furiously, finally feeling the knot in his stomach start to unwind after being driven insane by your words fueling his fantasies. he grabs a left handful of toilet paper, anticipating his sticky finish.

when he finally blows his load in strong, thick streams into the too-thin toilet paper, he has to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress the moan that so desperately wants to escape his lips. he tries to come to his senses quickly, flushing the toilet paper, pulling his pants back up and washing his hands feverishly in the sink.

as he leaves the bathroom, only one thought occupies his mind.

if y/n lets me fuck her this weekend, i’ll never complain about anything ever again.

[revelboo]

Alright which fragger is gonna be the one who starts spreading human valve is good propaganda? Wheeljack and Constructicons are builders for human houses. I’m imagining a little catalogue or file being sent spread anonymously to all the bots on earth and more about human mate and their needs. Primus, is Optimus going to the leader who first ends up with a interface/sex scandal? Walked/ran on by humans and doing a psa about it, or is going back for double points for Megatron and being sparked up by a human? Regardless the G1/IDW Revelbooverse is unhinged and I love it. Thank you for giving us this gorgeous Fuckery.

I’m just having fun, but honestly, I can see Thundercracker writing and anonymously sending out a human care manual just on blast. Bots and Cons both

So You Have A Human

Thundercracker x Reader

So you have a human or are thinking of acquiring one. Stop. Humans require a lot of care and attention. They’re social and need to be kept entertained. Before committing to finding a human, maybe use a holomatter avatar to go out among them and observe. Don’t try to touch or grab them, though. They will attack. Another less hands on way to research is to check out human media.

If you’ve decided you do want a human partner, understand how fragile they are. They scare easily, so understand how intimidating you are. You’re much bigger than they are. Don’t pick them up by their limbs or you can break those delicate bones. Cup them in your hands, keeping your grip loose so they don’t panic, but not so loose they can wiggle free and fall. They’ll die if they fall out of your hands. Don’t chase them down, you can actually scare humans to death as strange as that sounds.

Humans need organic foodstuffs and access to clean water. Just because something is organic, doesn’t mean that they can consume it. Please, find and retrieve foodstuffs meant for human consumption, don’t scavenge in the outdoors for them. They’re picky eaters.

Is your human a bit skittish? They tend to be cold in temperatures comfortable to Cybertronians, so coax your human into sleeping on your chassis. It gets them used to you much faster, letting them get comfortable with the sound of your spark. Make sure you talk to them. Ask them questions and get to know them. They need to socialize.

Interfacing with organics is taboo. And that’s an outdated belief. Humans are amazing. Court your human with little treats. Flowers. Snacks. Some of them adore sparkly ornaments. But make your intentions clear. Don’t just whip out your spike and hope for the best. Build a relationship first.

So you’ve successfully won your human over and you’re both comfortable with each other. Time to mass shift to their level. Humans kiss like we do. They interface like we do. Take your time exploring your partner with servos and your mouth. Try to take it slow so you don’t overwhelm them, because even mass shifted, Cybertronians are still much bigger.

Humans are incredibly flexible, but be sure to check with your human frequently. Make sure they’re comfortable. You’ll need to be patient, and properly prepare your human before you can-

• Head lifting sleepily from where you’re sprawled on him, you reach to tap a finger against the datapad he’s frantically typing alien glyphs on. “What are you smiling about?” Oh. Now he’s embarrassed, wings shifting at his back where they’re partially pinned under him. What is he writing? Because he’s acting like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing, won’t even meet your eyes. “Alright. Keep your secrets, but if you’re writing smut about us, you better change our names.”

• Reaching to stroke your cheek, he saves his work and sets it aside. And mass shifts, smiling when you gasp and grab at him. “It’s not like that. I just- there’s a lot of us with humans now and I thought I’d explain some stuff. You know, so there’s not any mistakes or accidents. Misunderstandings.” And you lean up on him, mouth brushing his. Servos threading into your hair as his other hand rests on your hip. Because this means everything. This intimacy.

• “As long as you’re not encouraging your people to go snatch mine,” you say, lips ghosting over his before you sit up on him. “You’re not, right?” And he immediately shakes his head, the tension spilling out of you. A little heads up on taking care of humans definitely couldn’t hurt. You know there are other humans here, but the Decepticons are weirdly protective of their humans and don’t seem to trust each other that much. “I still want to round all the humans here up. Humans need other humans. No offense.” His palm slides up your side, touch almost reverent.

• “I’m trying,” he replies. Because for you? If you need to spend time with other humans, he wants you to. Wants you to have whatever you want. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Loves you too much to deny you anything.

[fishnapple]

The purpose of your life, why you're here

This reading is about finding the purpose of your life, why you're here, your current reincarnation (if you believe in reincarnation), or your soul, what you're born into this world to experience. All 6 groups share a similar theme of reaching your highest potential and having the focus on connections.

A similar reading was also done by @claudiafrankie, you can check out their reading here

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ROSE QUARTZ

Keywords: inspiration, leading, expansion, mastery, mental power, innovation, connection to the psyche

I see the theme of big vs small, how we define our life, give meaning to it. Are we just a tiny entity that exists in the sea of existence, or are we the whole universe, embracing everything?

In your life, you will encounter many instances where you're asked to step forward, step outside, go out of your comfort zone. You will be put into experiences that tell you how knotted your life has been and how much it could unravel into something more spontaneous. There's a fight between wanting to focus on the physical plane, doing daily tasks perfectly, concern yourself with details, with what is happening around you and the need to do something bigger, having more impact and influence, to make a change to the world, to live the life you dream about. Confinement vs freedom.

You have a lot to tell, so much to share, so much to experience. At your core, you're an adventurer, a nomad, life is a journey that you need to keep moving. You want to achieve great things, leave a mark in this world and receive adoration from people. But the first step in your journey will be facing your wounds. They are the door that stands between you and the freedom outside. Are you ready to turn the doorknob and push that door? In the past, in your past lives, you might have experienced confinement, mentally, physically, spiritually. You kept standing there and facing the door but didn't decide what to do. So in this life, you're given a choice to choose again.

You might think the components to your success in life are outward actions, ambitions, and material achievements, showing how capable you are. Your mind is buzzing with ideas, with the future, always looking for a new way to do things better, to perfect what you're focusing on, like a windshield wipers working tirelessly on a stormy day. The next piece of information, the exciting new discoveries, the buzzing trends, they busy your mind until it becomes fatigued and obsessed.

Your purpose of this lifetime is to learn how to rest, when to stop, and how to use the information and resources you have gathered to build yourself up effectively. What defines you is not how much you have, how good you are at certain jobs, but how you master yourself and become the highest aspiration of yourself.

To do that takes patience and understanding of yourself. Turning inward, curbing the restless mind and impulses. You might be someone who is quite impatient or impulsive, wanting to execute right away the idea you have in mind, what you think of should be what you have, expecting results and excellence quickly, if things don't go well from the first try, you want to give up and change direction, change the method without giving the old ones enough time to develop. If you are this person, then life will give you many opportunities or challenges to slow you down, the more you try to act, to fix things, tossing ideas everywhere, going around in many directions at once, the more likely you are to be confined and forced to make a clear choice and commit to it. And you will have to choose wisely. How do you do it? By facing that door, those wounds, see how they are projected into your surroundings, your relationships with people, how you go around, anywhere, just to avoid them.

You're given a good pair of eyes (figuratively, or can be literally) to truly see, amidst all those busy movements, a path for yourself. A wide, unexplored path. Pushing the door, stepping out is scary, but you're brave and you will inspire many others to do the same.

LABRADORITE

Keywords: growth, healing, comfort, peace, helping, courage, accepting changes

I see the image of a sword or a cross. Your energy feels young and soft yet resilient and brave. Life gives you many challenges that would forge a sharp and strong blade inside you. The sword here is not for harming or conquest but for protection and striking the lock, through layers of fears that have been imprisoning you for a long time.

Your life is divided or, rather, balanced by two opposing forces and choices. One is the past, the habit, the way you chose to protect your safety. You might have a tendency to go along with other people's wishes or try to avoid direct confrontation for fear of disrupting the peace. This might be one of your defence mechanisms when dealing with life in general. You want to live in peace, quietly go about your way without obstruction and intrusion from outside. This creates a demure aura, in some way, a little submissive or malleable energy. You don't act this way because you want to gain something from other people. You just don't find it necessary to engage in confrontations that lead to dead-end.

The other side is something you're called to embrace more of in this lifetime. Your energy is soft and flowy, like water, but it needs a little solidifying into something more sturdy. It's the hardening of the core self. Hardening here does not have a negative connotation, it's not about building walls around yourself, closing your heart and spirit, acting cold and tough, it's not like that. It's about being more sure of yourself, giving yourself a sturdy and durable foundation, like how a pliable sprout would grow into a robust tree, standing tall and firm on the ground.

Work and career, material achievements will be the ground where you will see yourself grow the most in this lifetime. There will be opportunities and chances for you to break out of your nest and explore. The work environment will be dynamic and full of pleasant surprises. You will find support through the people you work with. A family member might be a crucial figure in your process of becoming the best version of yourself.

I feel a very giving nature, you have so much in yourself, so much to share, that inner abundance, with people, with life. But only when you release the attachments that keep you rooted in constricted safety. There might be hesitancy when trying to think about bigger aspirations, about your life dreams. You might think that those dreams are unrealistic or too far away. Your mind and your heart are going in the opposite direction. Your heart wants to look forward, to the distant, unexplored horizon, while your mind is occupied by anxiety and uncertainty. It's the root of the great divide between your past and your future.

But I think in this lifetime, things will change. Your life is in a great transition period. Events might happen quickly, surprises come more often. What you've been believing in, what you've been doing habitually might suddenly become strange and feel foreign to you. These changes are necessary, you might feel uncomfortable having to depart from what you've been attached to. But if you can muster enough courage to go against the usual, it will be a personal victory for you. You will successfully break the earth above you and shoot up, out of dormancy, to begin a new adventure.

RED JASPER

Keywords: manifestation, beauty, to connect, freedom, commitment, wish vs reality

It feels like you have a starter kit of manifesting love but you haven't learnt how to use them fully yet. Love and other connections will be the focal point of this lifetime for you.

You have a unique power of manifestation. Have you ever had some thoughts and then a few days or some time later, they came true?. Everything could manifest instantly that you might even be scared of your own thoughts, afraid that any "wrong" thought will result in a bad future. If you haven't realised this about yourself, be more mindful and observe how things work around you. Life will feel a lot more magical for you.

One of the reasons why your thoughts are so powerful is because you're given full reign, full freedom to experience this world. It's not something that you can easily realise and put into practise. There's no particular script nor strict rules for you to follow, you just need to experience as many things as possible. The best gift you have in this lifetime is freedom. I think this gift is something hard-earned from countless trials and hardships. The memories of distant pains might still linger somewhere deep inside you, keeping you from fully being free to dream. But no more rules and burdens. This life is meant to be savoured in its vastness. You're a born rebel. Carving your own path, going your own way, never settling, never being fully at ease with the present, always on the lookout for a different future.

And that's where relationships come in. One of the best ways to do that is through relationships and interacting with others. I see a tendency to be hasty or quick to move on when it comes to bonds with other people. With your manifesting ability, combine with your natural charms, you have no problem with meeting and building the connection with someone. But something about commitment might scare you. You might not want to commit because of the fear that your freedom will be lost, or because you put a heavy importance on a commitment that you don't want to step into one too lightly. You might jump, too quickly, into conclusions about some connections. Maybe you would try to find a plausible reason to stop the connection, in the name of practicality and logic, ready to find flaws in the other person, or, on the opposite end, you decide too quickly that this is it, this person is the one and then try to commit, prematurely. It's like you are given something because you wished for it, but then you don't exactly know what to do with it. This will be one of your biggest lessons in this lifetime. To follow through with what you wish for, to commit to something fully and wisely. It's not just romantic relationships but also other relationships, colleagues, friends, families, etc.

There would be two types of people in your life who can guide or lead you into two different directions. They will appear in the form of mentors, someone older or more experienced than you, someone whom you feel you can learn something significant from. One type will encourage you to find your calling, your path. Who will constantly touch your deepest feelings without even trying. They may trigger you, for good or for bad, you would feel their choices of words and actions are dubious and questionable, but there is something undeniably inspiring about them, they push you to be more bold and get in touch with your needs and wishes. While the other type would be someone wanting to dictate every move in your life under the guise of knowing what's good for you. They are powerful, they can make your wishes come true but only if you come under their wings and stay there. You would feel like a child being well taken care of, but your wings will be clipped. Which direction to take is ultimately your choice, you choose whatever to experience, because that's your freedom in this lifetime.

CITRINE

Keywords: uncharted water, discovery, exploration, crossing, in between, balanced, transition

I see your path in this life is going to the unknown, something that you haven't experienced before. You are standing at a gate, a bridge in between two lands. Or, in the vertical sense, you are standing on the dark ground, looking up at the sun, shining bright from above. There are lots of movements, both mentally and physically. In this lifetime, you will constantly move between the two worlds. The inner, dark and cold sea of your private world and the bright, warm air of the outside world. No world is better than other, they need to be their for your life to be in balance, staying in one world for too long and neglecting other will likely result in some events taking place to pull you back into balance.

These two worlds are parallel to each other. The inner world is led chiefly by your mind, they are well organised, block by block, neatly like a library, while the outer world is more dynamic, led by passion and actions. They affect each other in every way, more than you realise. Chaos in the inner thought will likely result in confusion and, in some extreme cases, destruction of the known path. You will stumble upon many paths that are considered strange and out of the norm, but I think you're geared towards them, even unknowingly, your mind has a knack of seeing the unique structure of things, noticing the pattern and the likely outcomes of situations that not many people can. This will help you see more alternatives in life and choose a path that can bring satisfaction to you, in all senses, materially, spiritually, emotionally. This path will likely be an uncharted water, something that not many people have done, there will be many unexplored areas for you to bring in your unique takes.

Another way the two worlds interact with each other is what your inner world needs, the outer world will provide. If you feel anxious and doubtful, haunted by past memories, then you will likely encounter something or someone new who can give you fresh perspectives and encouragement to be brave. If you feel your life is lacking security, you feel low in your self esteem, there will be moments of transformation that bring you closer to what you desire, you will be given opportunities to venture into new territory, meeting new people, getting the support you need to start something. The universe hears your every call and answers back with opportunities, emphasis on the word "opportunities", you won't be given a whole cooked dish, you will be given ingredients to make the dish.

There's an element of settlement. Instead of jumping from place to place, in this lifetime, you need to hold onto something, to make something uniquely yours, something that will be by your side everywhere you go. It could be a legacy, a creation, a lesson, something that lasts. But it's not about stubbornly holding on to something, it has to be integrated into your core being. Throughout life, you will face with many events that will change your perspective drastically, you're not meant to hold on to old beliefs, withered branches that can no longer hold the weight of the birds standing on them. You will constantly meet new people, those that will open your eyes. Foreign people and cultures might fascinate you, somewhere with lots of sunlight, warm hospitality, beautiful scenery and architecture, lots of mountains and flowers. Especially if you're someone who's from a land near the sea, windy and cold, lots of rain and stormy weather. You are a traveller at heart, don't limit yourself to any particular place.

AMETHYST

Keywords: opinion, communication, conflict, to uphold, straightforward, honesty, truth

I don't know why, but upon seeing your spread, the phrase "human comedy" just sprang up in my mind. This life of yours will go through so many ups and downs in regards to connections and relationships. You will experience the full spectrum of them, every facet, every emotion.

You might encounter many situations where you're misunderstood greatly, those will create a very interesting dynamic between you and the world. Interesting might not be the right word, even my choice of word in this reading is muddled up, you might have the tendency to use words that make your intentions seem questionable or odd to people, and they do the same to you. It's like people from different lands from all around the world gathered for a meeting but there's no common language and no one to translate.

Communication will be the point of focus for you. You might struggle to find the right expression, the right words for the things you want to say. Thoughts seem a lot more clear and articulated in your head, but when they are uttered, there's this fog around you that tends to twist and blur the words, making them shift and fuddle. You will need to find a way to clear this fog, to deliver your words in the most direct and straightforward way as much as possible, even at the risk of being blunt and offensive. This might create an obsession or anxiety when communicating. Maybe you want to find the perfect expression, the details, you do notice the tendency of people misunderstanding you so you try so hard to elaborate, which can create the impression of being long winded, rambling or argumentative.

Ideas jump around in your head, constantly born and spread, demand to get out, to be expressed, this forms a rushing energy, impatient tongue. But even with all these misunderstandings, you don't actually offence people. They may perceive you as nitpicking, blunt, or argumentative, but they don't necessarily hate you for it. On the contrary, some even find it amusing and endearing, these people might even intentionally tease or poke at you, it's not malicious, but then again, you also don't read people's intentions too clearly and might perceive these acts of teasing as personal attack. Your reactions would rile those people up even more. Hence, the endless cycles of poking and reacting. The purpose of all of these is to train your resilience of the mind and heart. You should take all of these with good spirit, laugh them off, keep your truth and speak honestly, there's nothing more attractive than that.

On a more serious note, you're reminded to stand firm in your thoughts. I sense that you have so many wisdom to share with the world. Teaching might be a calling for you. Even without actually be in the education field, people can still learn from you, through your unshakable conviction in yourself and the way you speak your truth. It might be intense, it might be difficult to swallow, it might seem strange and outlandish, but nevertheless, it captivates the world through its sincerity.

AVENTURINE

Keywords: artist, bridge, the call, emotional landscape, go with the flow, sensitivity

"Young poet of the moon", "The poet of the soul", those two just appeared in my head upon seeing your spread, so I wanted to write them down. I think those words portrayed you pretty well. Your inner artist heart is beating every moment, it's a force that you can't hide or be ushered into oblivion by some circumstances.

This world needs a lot of people who have a sensitive heart, like you, someone who has the "eyes" to see the beauty in this world, the "ears" to hear its cry and whisper, the "lips" to court it with sweet sweet words. You're here to make people see the world in its naked beauty, helping them realise the small details of living and in the process, elevate their souls.

You offer this world a cup filled with creativity. The way your mind and heart tremble and come alive with all the senses can create striking new creations. The passion for sensuality is there, for the bursting love of life. Sensuality here encompasses a vast spectrum of things, from the aromas of delicious food, the cool and smooth feeling of water lapping over you, the swirling colours of leaves dancing under the sun, the warm and rough feel of someone's hands, ... they are all the materials for you to marvel at, to create, to give back to the world your interpretation of it.

Why did I say "poet" in the beginning? Because you have the gift of gab, your words resonate with people's hearts, because they are spoken from the realm of the unknown inside all of us, we can only be able to catch a glimpse of it here and there, when we allow ourselves to relax and float. You have the ability to connect to that realm , to catch sights of it more often and crystallise those sights into words or messages conveyed by other means. But I sense written words strongly. Even if you do something that isn't related to creativity or the art (but is there anything that truly be detached from creativity?), this gift will still assist you in every endeavour you're in, negotiating, mediating, persuading, counselling, anything that needs these kinds of skills.

Love will play an important role in your life, you're here to experience love in all of its forms, experience all the feelings it can create within us. It won't be an easy journey, heartaches are there, but so is the deepest devotion. You might face delays in love or intense connections that leave lasting marks on your soul. You're not the same person you once were before a connection. These will transform you, plunging you into greater depth and strange waters. But don't be afraid,if you allow yourself to savour the journey, you will arrive at a treasure that many people have been struggling to find. This inexhaustible treasure will provide richness to your life. Also, don't let yourself drowned either, emerge out of the water and share with the world what you've seen. So many people need their hearts touched by a soul such as yours.

[coldfanbou]

A Drunken Mistake

Our little SYLM story continues, and we go a little wild after so many drinks. Oh well.

Length 2.7K

Chaeyoung X Mreader

Previous Part

Next Part

You arrive at the cafe Dahyun mentioned. As you step through the door, you see her sitting at the back of the cafe, waving you down with a smile on her face.  “You made it,” Dahyun said softly as you sat down. 

“Yep, what did you want to talk about Dahyun?”

Dahyun's words get caught in her throat, and she’s forced to take a deep breath. “I-it’s just something I’ve wanted to tell you.” Dahyun moves her hair behind her ear, her smile fading as she shifts in her seat. “There’s, um, no easy way for me to say this, but I want to…” Dahyun's voice lowers to a whisper, and her gaze moves down to the table.  She balls her fists under the table as she tries to push forward with her confession, “I want to be more,” she blurts out, her anxiety at an all-time high. A small silence followed before Dahyun began speaking again her pace speeding up as she spilled her guts to you. “I know you’ve been sleeping with the others, and I’m okay with that, but I want to be someone more for you. I feel safe with you, and you’re so kind, and this is the first time I’ve felt this way since before I had Eunsoo.” Dahyun feels tears beginning to well up in her eyes, but she shakes her head and wipes them away, her vulnerability palpable.

“Hey, Dahyun, there’s no need to cry,” you say softly, reaching over the table to put a hand on her shoulder. You consider your options as you calm Dahyun. You had to admit you were in an awkward position, caught between so many women and having feelings for a few of them. It was a lot to think about, especially when you considered Jeongyeon. You pause for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Dahyun, I appreciate you feeling that way about me, but I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything right now. Look, here is what’s going on in my mind. I’ve been in sexual relationships with your Jeongyeon and others. Things change if I get into a relationship, and it will be a big change.” You see the disappointment in Dahyun’s eyes, and you feel your heart drop. You sigh, “Dahyun, let’s start again. I’m not going to commit to any exclusive dating yet, but if you feel okay with it. Dahyun, you’re a wonderful woman, but I don’t know if we’re a good match yet. I know I’m asking for a lot, but I can’t commit to an exclusive relationship, so why don’t we just get to know each other better for now? If things go well, we can make the next step together.”

Dahyun nods her head slowly, “Okay, I can do that.” Dahyun was disappointed with the outcome of her confession, but she was also thankful she didn’t get locked out of your heart. She slowly loosens her fists and places her hands on the table. 

“Why don’t we go somewhere? We can take Eunsoo to an aquarium.” You tell Dahyun, trying to move on. Dahyun can’t help but crack a small smile, happy that you would consider her child. She nods, agreeing to go on the impromptu date. You and Dahyun head to the daycare where she had left Eunsoo, picking her up. After putting Eunsoo into her seat, you take off to the aquarium; the closer you get to it, the bigger Dahyun’s smile gets. She’s kicking her feet when you arrive, staring at the whale shark sculpture above the entrance. 

You find a parking spot and head to the entrance. Dahyun is carrying Eunsoo and pointing to the whale shark. “Look! It's a big fish, huh, Eunsoo?” The baby giggles and waves her arm at the sculpture, continuing to stare as you pass under it. 

Walking through the aquarium, the three of you enjoy seeing the fish swim in their enclosure and watching the schools move together. Dahyun splits her attention between you and Eunsoo; you often catch her pointing at one fish or another and asking Eunsoo about it. Watching Dahyun be so focused on Eunsoo brings a smile to your face. You walk beside Dahyun, watching the different fish swim all around you. Noticing a group of clownfish, Dahyun points them out to Eunsoo, “Look at the little fish, Eunsoo. Aren’t they pretty?” She asks, bouncing Eunsoo on her hip. You look elsewhere, noticing a vendor. While Dahyun was focused on Eunsoo, you ended up buying some merchandise. You sneak up behind Dahyun and put a hat on her, a small shark that looked like it was biting her when she wore it. 

Dahyun saw her reflection in the glass and laughed, turning around to see the same hat on you. “You look ridiculous,” she says, smiling brightly.

“I could say the same for you, but it suits you. You look cute with it on.” Eunsoo reaches for the hat. “It looks like Eunsoo is jealous of you.” 

“Do you like mommy’s hat, Eunsoo?”  She babbles, still reaching for Dahyun’s hat. You continue around the aquarium with Dahyun, stopping at exhibits like the sea otters and stingrays. Before leaving, you stopped at the gift shop to get Eunsoo a small stuffed otter; she held it tightly in her fists, shaking it.” Dahyun laughed, watching Eunsoo play with her otter. 

The drive home was quiet, occasionally filled with Dahyun telling you how much she enjoyed spending time with you. You told her you enjoyed it too, noting how she was a good mother. The compliment made Dahyun blush, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, you made sure Eunsoo was doing well the entire time, making sure she was involved. I think you’re a great mom, Dahyun.”

“Thanks. I’m used to doing things like this with Eunsoo.”

“I can tell,” you reply, reaching her home a few minutes later. 

You walk Dahyun to her apartment; she heads inside, putting Eunsoo to bed before returning to the entrance. “Today was a lot of fun; thanks for taking us out. I know you’ll probably go out with the others too, but I look forward to going out again. Maybe we can do something a little naughty next time.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” you chuckle as you lean in and kiss Dahyun on her forehead. 

She stands on her tiptoes and points to her lips as you pull away, “Here too.” You both pause before breaking into a laugh. Wrapping your arms around Dahyun’s waist, you hold her tightly as you press your lips against hers. You break apart slowly and tell her goodbye before leaving. Dahyun stays in her doorway, watching you go, feeling satisfied with your little date.

Seeing as it was getting to be late at night, you decided to decompress after your date by taking a trip to the bar. While being around Dahyun and her daughter was fun, it was also tiring. You drove home and parked your car before walking down a few blocks to a bar you wanted to visit. Stepping inside, you find it cozy and comfortable, with soft music playing from overhead speakers as you go to the bar and order a drink. The barista smiled at you as she made your drink, “Long day?” She licked her lips, mixing the drink as her eyes wandered over you.

“You could say that,” you reply. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“Don’t we all?” She says, chuckling at her comment. “Is this your first time here?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ooh, then I’ll make this first one on the house. My name is Chaeyoung; it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too; thanks for the drink.” You chat with Chaeyoung, watching people come and go from the bar until it’s just you and her left inside. You drink everything Chaeyoung offers you.

After many drinks from Chaeyoung, you watched her move from behind the bar. She flipped the sign to close and locked the door before approaching and sitting beside you. “Say, you seem like someone who knows a thing or two,” Chaeyoung said, placing her hand on your thigh and dragging her fingers along it. “Listen, I’ve got a little bet going on with a couple of work friends. Would you mind helping me with it?”

“What’s the bet?” You ask, glancing her way.

Chaeyoung leans over, letting you take a gander at her small breasts. “I just need you to do something that’ll make us both feel good. My friend Mina got fucked a while ago and hasn’t shut up about how good this guy was. I said I could find someone just as good, but my friend Tzuyu thought I couldn’t.”

“Mina?”You repeat, your mind foggy from the drinks. You consider it might be the one you know before deciding it must be a coincidence. 

“This is where you come in. I get a good feeling from you, and I want to see if I’m right.” Chaeyoung takes your hand, bringing it to her lips. She takes in two of your fingers, letting her tongue swirl around them. “What do you say? What to have some fun with me?” Chaeyoung brings your hand to her chest and leans in, whispering, “You can be as rough as you like. I can take it all and then some. I’ll be your little toy tonight.” 

“Alright,” you agree in your drunken state.

A sultry smile on her lips, Chaeyoung moves her hand to your crotch, unzipping your pants and pulling your cock out. Her eyes widen as she looks at it, but she keeps her smile. “Oh, a big boy.” Chaeyoung climbs off her chair and pushes it back, bending over and dragging her tongue along your shaft. “This is going to be good.” Chaeyoung wraps her full lips around your shaft; her tongue drags along the underside of your length as she bobs her head slowly, moaning around it as she slides her fingers under her dress. You groan, reveling in the feeling of her warm mouth around your cock. Chaeyoung’s skilled tongue began moving around your shaft. You place your hand on her head and push her down, wanting more from the petite woman. 

“Fuck,” you groan as you feel her throat contract around your cock. You let Chaeyoung go and watch her pull back quickly, coughing twice before wiping her mouth.

She strokes your cock slowly, “That’s the spirit. Go ahead and use me.” Chaeyoung wraps her lips around your cock again and waits for you to make the first move. You move off your chair and stand before Chaeyoung taking hold of her hair, thrusting your cock down her throat. You listen to her struggle to take your cock, her eyes welling with tears as you drive your cock into the back of her throat. 

While you use her throat, Chaeyoung plays with herself, her body getting hot as you use her like a toy. Her fingers find a home inside her cunt as she pushes them deep inside herself. “You’re so good at this,” you grunt, pushing yourself to your climax. Chaeyoung feels your cock throb inside her throat. She moves her fingers faster, loving the idea of you cumming down her throat without giving her a warning. Chaeyoung pushes her tongue out of her mouth, trying to lap at your body as you continue your thrusts. You go and bury your cock inside Chaeyoung's mouth, cumming right after. Chaeyoung’s mouth becomes full of your cum before she eventually gives way, and it spills out of her mouth. You try to push deeper into her mouth as you cum before eventually pulling away. Cum drips onto the floor, and Chaeyoung leans against the counter, catching her breath. You look at her; Chaeyoung’s makeup is ruined. Her mascara is running down her cheeks, and saliva coats her chin.

You get hard as you look Chaeyoung over and push her against the counter, pulling down her panties and rubbing your cock against her cunt. “Fuck me up,” she whispers. You grin and slam yourself inside Chaeyoung; her slippery cunt lets you slide right in. “Oh fuck!” She yells as she feels you stretch and fill her. You waste little time and begin thrusting, slamming yourself deep inside Chaeyoung with every thrust. 

“God, you’re so tight.” You groan, turning her over and lifting the small woman. You bounce Chaeyoung on your cock, letting her weight drag her down onto your shaft. Each thrust goes deep into her, stretching her cunt out. Chaeyoung holds onto you, clinging to your body as you relentlessly drive your cock into her. You lay Chaeyoung against the counter and pull at her top, revealing her perky tits. You grab at them, roughly squeezing the small handful. 

Chaeyoung holds onto the counter, filling the bar with her moans as you use her like a toy. She lays her head on the counter, a weary smile on her face as she feels your cock knock against her womb. She felt the tension in her body build with every thrust; she was on the verge of cumming. 

You felt her walls clamping down on your cock and continued thrusting, your body demanding that you pump her full of your cum. You raise one of Chaeyoung’s legs onto your shoulder and bury yourself inside the petite woman, cumming inside her and triggering her climax. Her body tenses up, and Chaeyoung lets out a long moan as she feels your cum pour into her. 

You stay buried inside Chaeyoung, letting your body relax before beginning to thrust into her again. “H-hold up, I need a break,”

“You said you’re my toy for tonight,” you remind her as you lift her off the counter and thrust into her. Chaeyoung wraps her legs around you; she arches her back as you take her. As soon as she heard those words come from your mouth, she relinquished herself to you, letting you use her as you like. You spent the next few hours fucking Chaeyoung all over the bar. During the small breaks you gave her, she would be on her phone taking pictures of her deteriorating state as she got covered in more and more cum. Her black dress was white by the night's end, and no part of her body was left clean. 

The following morning, you found yourself in bed with Chaeyoung lying on your chest. Your head aches from last night’s drinks. The small woman drooled on you as she slept. You grab a phone and check the time; it’s early morning. As you open the phone, you find a chat and realize you grabbed Chaeyoung’s phone.  Looking closer, you see it was a chat with Mina and Tzuyu; Chaeyoung had sent them pictures of herself through the night. The last was a selfie she had taken of her body, showing how you had left her a mess. You put the phone down as Chaeyoung begins to stir.

“Good morning, master,” she greets you, kissing your chest. “Did you sleep well?” she asks, “Oh, looks like someone else is awake too.” She says before you can respond. Chaeyoung reaches down and grabs your cock, stroking you slowly. “I’ll get my breakfast, then I’ll make you yours,” Chaeyoung says as she moves down and tries to swallow your cock. 

You stop her before she can begin. “Hold on a second, what are you doing here?”

Chaeyoung blinks slowly, “You don’t remember last night? I don’t think I’ll be able to forget,” she giggles. “You used me like a toy all night, you made me your little cum dump. I’m getting wet just thinking about it. Some other stuff happened, but the most important part is that you're my master now. I put my number in your phone, so whenever you want some stress relief, just call me, and I’ll be ready to bounce on your cock.” You nod along.

“Tell me exactly what happened, and I’ll let you suck me off.” Chaeyoung jumps at the chance, detailing last night's events. You shake your head, reminded of why you don’t drink to excess. 

[cherryheairt]

Not Yet Blossomed

Cregan Stark x Bolton's wife!reader

Summary- When Cregan visits the Boltons to oversee their livestock problem, he can't help but be enamored with Lord Bolton's meek wife. When he finds the truth of their relationship, he commits himself to saving her.

named Tully reader no desc

part 1?

Cregan's journey to the Dreadford was uneventful to say the least. He had enough problems to deal with in Winterfell, so being summoned by the Boltons to oversee their newest livestock problems was the least of his concerns. However, Ryen Bolton's letter remained ominous when he first sent for Lord Stark's help. Apparently, the livestock were going missing in bundles at a time. Too many to be regular predators or the animals to simply be wandering off on their own.

Cregan promised himself to deal with this swiftly. No more than a few days, then he could go back home and deal with bigger problems.

Bolton was lucky that it was still summer, warmer, and bountiful in its harvests. If it were any other season, Cregan would not have bothered with the matter himself and instead sent his trusted bannermen to meet with Ryen. Though the ground was mostly clear of snow, it did not stop the slightest tears of white to fall from the sky in light showers, the sun deterring it from sticking to the floor for long. The air carried a chilling breeze, though the sunlight kissed his cheeks warmly as he traveled on horseback.

A few days, he reminded himself.

It was only when he first saw Lady Bolton that his mind was swayed.

A beautiful young lady, to be sure. Cregan had once considered her for his own marriage before her hand was swiftly taken by Ryen. The elder man had been enamored with her beauty and grace when she had visited the Dreadfort with her father, Samuel Tully.

A shame, Cregan had thought those years ago. The two of them were so similar in age, and their houses were both paramount over the Northern and Riverland Houses. A beneficial arrangement would have surely come from their marriage. Plus, he had found a pleasent friend within their short time together.

He had met her only once, when they were both five and ten. The young Lady had been a picture of Southern elegance and flowery words, though she had none of the falseness of her kin. She was all genuine, a breath of fresh air to all who sought her company.

Ciara Tully had married at the age of six and ten to Ryen Bolton, a man of eight and thirty. Cregan had scowled when the raven had come from Samuel Tully to inform him of his daughter no longer being available. If only he had moved sooner, he had sulked for days after the news before finding his resolve and moving on to other prospects. He had no regrets in that regard, for he found a love match in his searching.

Ryen had always been a callous and frustrating man to deal with, but Cregan persevered through their occasional meetings by telling himself it would all be over soon. The Lord never liked to speak for long, not when he was more focused on drowning himself in his cups. When he did speak, it was a whole lot of nothing.

When Cregan entered the keep's council room to meet Lord Bolton, he was shocked to be met with a young boy at the man's side instead of his wife. The seat next to him was empty, and only a few adult male kin of House Bolton and the Maester were also in the room. "Will Lady Bolton not be in attendance?" Asked Cregan, sitting across from Ryen. It was the one empty seat in the room now.

Ryen coughed, shifting in his seat. "Ciara has other matters to attend to. She need not bother with the matters of men." He said dismissively, though it seemed to Cregan that he had forgotten that most Ladies would attend council with their Lord husbands at all.

Arra Norrey had when she was alive, attending every meeting Cregan held until the unfortunate day of her parting. She was a brilliant and influential mind, never afraid to speak her opinion. The North was better for it.

Ryen did not seem to share the opinion that the Bolton Lady should attend to her political duties.

Cregan nodded and left it at that, glancing briefly at the boy next to Ryen, who puffed out his cheeks and fiddled with his fur coat boredly.

Ryen seemed to perk at the opportunity to introduce. "This is my son and heir, Dalton. A boy of four just recently." He said, russeling the boy's brown hair that perfectly reflected his own. He was a bit young to be learning the ways of Lordship, but Cregan dismissed that as the man being eager to have his son learn the Bolton ways. Who was Cregan to judge, anyway? He was no longer a father himself, nor had his son lived long enough for him to consider education.

The Stark nodded his greeting, turning back to the Bolton. "What of the situation at hand?"

Ryen straightened up, folding his hands. "My farmers have accounted for flocks of sheep and pigs going missing. Which, normally, I would send for poachers to deal with the wolves or bears taking from the fields, but none of my men have spotted any signs of such predators." He took a moment to lubricate his throat with an arbor red wine.

"Many farmers are reporting such activity, and it has come to a point where I thought we could benefit from an outside view on the matter."

Or he wanted to wash his hands of the burden of being Lord, Cregan thought wryly. Lazy as his father.

He firmly nodded. "I will scout out these areas myself, with Night Seeker to guide. The direwolf is a better tracker than most hunters, to be certain." He smiled tensely, scooting his seat out and excusing himself. "I will be back in a few days' time."

Cregan found himself wandering to the gardens of the Dreadfort after he finished gathering the farm locations from the resident Maester. He needed to clear his mind and plan for any possible outcomes. He had not yet dealt with a curious situation like this one.

There, he saw a woman in a blood-red dress crouched over some winter roses. Not yet in full bloom, the bright blue of the flowers was dulled and closed to a point.

Approaching slowly, Cregan cleared his throat gently to announce his presence.

Met with an almost violent flinch and swift turn, the woman revealed herself to be Ciara. "Lord Bolton—" She started, cutting herself off when she was met with a man other than her husband. Her hands grasped anxiously at her skirts, ruffling the silky material within her palms. She wore a fine ruby necklace and earrings to match, black laced gloves upon her smooth hands. It seemed far too thin and frilly to warm her properly in such weather, but the Lady seemed not to mind it, perhaps wearing such attire daily.

"Lady Ciara," Cregan greeted kindly, bowing his head to the young woman. The years had been kind to her, transforming her from a comely girl to a radiant woman.

"Lord...Cregan?" She asked tentatively, only going off of her faint memory of the man. He seemed to have grown in both height and muscle since their meeting years ago. "It has been a while. What brings you to the Dreadfort?"

Her voice was tense but not unfriendly. He was stunned at how warily she eyed him, not at all the joyful and outgoing girl he had met before. "Aye. Six years, if I remember correctly."

Ciara glanced behind Cregan, wringing her hands together. "It is nice to see you again. I am sorry to hear about your wife and..." she trailed off quietly, not finding the words to express the loss of his infant child. It had been three years ago that Arra met her unfortunate fate, followed by Rickon a year later when he had come down with fever.

"Thank you, my Lady. I am here to deal with Lord Bolton's problem with the flocks going missing. I'm sure you've heard of it."

"I have not, actually." Spoken hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"

"That is none of your concern, wife." Ryen Bolton spoke harshly from next behind Ciara's shoulder. Cregan almost cursed at the suddenness, as if the man had a beacon that told when others congregated on his lands. Glancing at the elder, he raised a straight brow at the interruption.

A firm had was placed on Ciara's shoulder, earning a barely consealed flinch from the lady. She seemed to shrink further under Ryen's presence, bowing her head and looking to her feet. "Forgive me, Lord Bolton. I will return to my chambers." With a curtsy and flurry of silk, she was gone.

Ryen spoke first, a heavy sigh coming from his thin, cracked lips. "Forgive my wife. She seems to wander these days, against her better judgement. Always disturbing the house and the children. I'll see to it that she does not bother you during your stay, my Lord."

Cregan narrowed his eyes, ticking his jaw at the tone and words used on the man's own wife. Never had he thought his former wife to be a bother in any circumstance, nor had his father spoken like that about Gilliane. "A disturbance to her own house and children, my Lord?" He asked.

"It may sound exaggerated to you, but you don't live with her. She is constantly interrupting the children's lessons and the staff for menial things. One would say she's trying to help, but I say she's always been like this—desperate for attention." Ryen leaned closer, hot breath hitting Cregan's senses unpleasantly as he did so. "Between you and me, she's always been a bit slow. Only good for her looks, I suppose, so she has her uses." The man bellowed at his own jest, excusing himself to attend to the awaiting Maester at the archway of the gardens.

Cregan silently seethed in the spot he was left in, breathing carefully to not lose his cool. He was Warden of the North, his attentions must first and foremost lie with the people's problems. He could not intervene in martial problems.

The rest of the day went by quickly, with Cregan waiting for the morrow's daylight before he left. At supper, Lady Ciara was missing too, only noticed by Cregan. Everyone else seemed not to mind or care, going about the dinner with loud laughs and shallow conversations. Young Dalton was now joined by an even younger sister, who Cregan learned was named Mabel. An imagine of her mother, even at the young age of two. The hair, skin color, and even eye color were all inherited from Mabel's mother, while Dalton was a mirror of his father. Mabel was ignored by Ryen, too, but not by the maids and servants passing by, always attending the children equally and kindly. The wet nurse spoon fed Mabel a few seats down from Ryen, quietly working to get through the supper before the men got too drunk and rowdy.

Cregan did not mention Ciara's absence again. He simply sipped on his ale and chewed on his mutton while waiting for enough time to pass for a suitable time to excuse himself.

Finally, when Ryen had drank enough to put a young squire to rest, the Stark abruptly left with the excuse of resting well for the morrow.

He made his way through the fort's winding halls, only stopping at the opened nursery. Ciara was not in the room, unsurprisingly. With no babes to look after in it, it was empty. He moved on to the next rooms, sure to find the Lady of the house's room nearby to her children.

It was not. After minutes of searching empty rooms and quiet halls, Cregan found Ciara's room in one of the towers of the Dreadfort. Tucked away in a cold corner, the towers of large keeps were usually reserved for when the keep housed many guests due to the towers having thinner walls and less insulation. Ladies and Lords never kept rooms of their own residence in such places.

When Cregan heard the quiet and peaceful humming, he followed it all the way up the spiraling stairs. The door was ajar, an inviting position for any passerbys—though none seemed to take it but himself.

Ciara sat on the stone floor, dressed in a velvety blue gown suited for dinner, though she did not attend it. She hummed on lowly as she embroidered what appeared to be a lavender baby's blanket, weaving darker flowers into it for her daughter. The stitching was near professional, similar to the stitches he was used to seeing on the clothes he bought from tailors, though hers was more personal instead of used for the practicality of his sigil.

Ciara huddled herself as close to the hearth as she could without burning herself, furs being placed over her shoulders and atop the fine dress. Still, she shivered under them and shook her hands occasionally to warm them. Even Cregan suppressed a shiver in the cold room, with his leathers and furs on his person.

The room itself felt empty and impersonal. There was no decoration; only a bed, hearth, settee, wardrobe, and what he assumed was a chest filled with embroidery supplies.

He announced himself with a brief knock on the open door, standing awkwardly in the archway. Her eyes shot up immediately to meet his, appearing like a rabbit in front of the wolf, betraying her Tully blood's 'fish' heritage. "Lord Stark." She said, swallowing harshly. "What brings you up here?"

Suspicious eyes glanced between him and the stairwell as she stood, setting her supplies down.

"I wished to apologize for earlier in the gardens. It was not my intent to bother you or upset Lord Bolton. I hope my mistake did not sway you to not come to dinner tonight?"

She shook her head quickly, though she furrowed her brow as if gauging his intent. "Of course not. In fact, I had wished to come tonight. It is nice to see an old friend, someone familiar to me. But...I was not summoned tonight." Was the simple answer.

"Summoned?" He could not stop himself from asking. "Surely you need not be summonded in your house." He said lightly.

Twisting her ring, she pursed her lips. "My husband gets irritated easily. He says it is best that I stay in my room most nights, so I cannot be in the way. Most of the time, I think he just forgets to send for me." She smiled sadly, though her words were beyond casual.

Cregan held a sigh back, going along with her casual attitude. "Your rooms are quite far, my Lady. Are there no open ones next to the nursery?" He asked.

She looked down at her feet again. This time, an indescribable tone laced her words. "I stayed there when Dalton was first born, but Ryen says it was much too close. That a woman's softness should not influence his son. I suppose he was right, I did spend too much time with them."

"They are but four and two. Children at that age need their parents—their mothers." Cregan offered, stepping a bit closer. He remembered little of his youth at that age, but knew from watching his own younger siblings grow that his mother and father both doted on them until they gained their own independence and started spending time with courtyard friends than their parents.

She took a subtle matching step backward, leaving Cregan to still himself entirely to not discomfort her. Shaking her head 'no', she disagreed with the Lord. "He is right. The children had started crying when parted from me. It was best that I moved away."

"That is a normal thing for one's own children to do. It shows that they are most comfortable with you, rather than servants." He stated.

"I'm afraid it is not possible. Staying up here has allowed me to keep Ryen happy. And Dalton, I'm sure." She nodded to herself, still avoiding Cregan's eyes.

"Dalton? Have you not spent much time with him after your move?"

"Oh, no. Of course not." She laughed quietly, brushing a stand of hair behind her ear. It held none of the true joy that it once did when she was younger. Her eyes held the same dullness that the winter roses in the gardens did, like the life had been sucked out of her since her marriage. "I'm not to see him at all, unless I am allowed to come to dinner. My daughter, though, is different. Her wet nurse takes breaks, and then I look after her for a time."

It should be the other way around, with the wet nurse taking Mabel only when Ciara felt drained from all the energy babes took to care for. Cregan had truly never heard of babes being taken from their own mothers except for special exceptions like illness or the occasional post-birth rut that trapped new mothers. Ciara was neither sick nor unresponsive, so Ryen's orders made zero sense.

"Have you eaten, my Lady?" He changed the topic of conversation, afraid to upset her or himself any longer.

"I have, earlier. Gresha brings me meals to my room." She said brightly, nodding to the settee and small table in front of it that he hadn't noticed before. Cregan felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing the half-emptied plate alone on the table. He had never guessed how Lady Ciara's life had been since her marriage all those years ago. Never would he have assumed it would be so desolate.

Most Ladies, even when dealt a poor hand with their husbands, always had their children to keep them company. Or visiting family, since their Houses were so close together. Ciara had none. She lived her days like a forgotten ghost haunting the Dreadfort, only remembered by the servants assigned to her and her husband, occasionally, when she got bold enough to wander the halls of her own home.

Even then, she could not find it in her heart to hold anger. Ever the patient and kind soul, Ciara persevered through the situation and found the best of it. Grateful for every crumb of respect and decency she was provided. This was no way a noble lady of her status should be treated.

For once, Cregan Stark felt utterly helpless.

He left early in the morning, Night Seeker at his heels. His first destination was to White Tower, one of the larger farms he had marked down on his map. Within the lands of the Boltons, White Tower held many acres and the largest flock of sheep available to the House. Cregan figured the root of the problem could easily be found at such a place.

White Tower was nothing special, only a few barns, mills, and a small house at the top of a hill. There, Cregan was greeted by Zayne and Milly Narrows. An old and kind couple, they recounted tales of their missing sheep with stressed tears filling their eyelines.

"You see, Lord Stark, it had only started with one or two at first. Then, weeks later, the sheep dissappeared in bunches at a time. We're already down to half our flock, and if it continues like this, we'll lose everything we've worked so hard for." Milly Narrows told him, hankerchief brushing her eyes and nose to keep appearances.

Zayne nodded solemnly, a more quiet presence than his wife. "I thought it was some coyotes or wolves, like it normally is, but our livestock dogs haven't alerted us to anything. No blood, no tracks, just missin' sheep."

Cregan hummed thoughtfully, glancing out of the window to the green fields. "That is a conundrum. I've never had a livestock problem where the dogs didn't know the situation better than the farmers." He said, mostly to himself.

"Can you help us, Lord Stark?" Milly asked, teary eyes hopeful.

"I will try my best, miss." He promised, leaving the home with his sword strapped to his shoulder. Whatever he would face, he would never do so without Ice. Night Seeker was already waiting by the fence where Cregan left him, panting at the sight of so many sheep flocked together in a confined space. Luckily, the wolf knew better than to give into such baser instinct. Cregan clicked his tongue for the direwolf to follow, pointing out to the forest where the Narrows had said the most foliage was tussled.

Night Seeker ran ahead, sniffing eagerly at anything and everything. It seemed he immediately found a trail, much to Cregan's surprise. Why hadn't the Narrows' dogs found anything?

He trudged forth, brushing past any bushes or trees in the way to follow the tracker. Night Seeker moved with a vigor, excitement growing at the chase, though admittedly Cregan's own curiousity grew as they went. Indeed, there were no animal tracks or strong scents to be seen by the human eye or smelt by the human nose.

Finally, after perhaps two hours of this, the forest broke into clear daylight. Beyond the treeline was more grass, though the chill was still lingering from the cool morning. Empty rolling fields, it seemed to be, leading Cregan to glance at his companion.

The direwolf's tongue lolled from its maw, tail wagging at his grand find. "What is this?" Cregan asked tiredly, doubting the location of multitudes of sheep being in such an open area.

The wolf huffed before breaking off into a dead sprint ahead, leaving Cregan to stammer and chase after him as best he could.

The fields winded for what felt like forever before leading to the border stones between House Flint and House Bolton. Only a few towers of smooth grey stone, as borders were oft marked by, it was an underwhelming sight. The direwolf knew better than to cross such things without Cregan's explicit permission, so he was left waiting for the man to catch up. Panting heavily, Cregan's brow furrowed. "House Flint?" He asked himself softly, wondering why the sheep trail would lead to the border.

House Flint had stayed unproblematic for Cregan's current rule and for Rickon's before him, too. Not having to do much in terms of peacekeeping, Cregan was glad to have a lightened load when it came to the ancient house.

"Go on." He commanded. They were surely close to the answer.

The direwolf happily led the way to a series of massive makeshift barns. Peeking inside, Cregan could not count the amount of livestock being held. On the doors was labeled 'Narrows', 'Fresc', and 'Limbant', three of the family farms that reported livestock missing.

Cregan cursed quietly, moving on to the next barn. Inside were pigs of ranging sizes and colors, labeled all the same. Wielding his ancestral sword, Cregan rounded the wooden buildings to the end of the row, finding a camp filled with a group of young men.

"What is this display before my eyes?" He demanded harshly, earning shocked stares and gaped mouths. The young men seemed no older than himself, perhaps thinking this all to be a fun juvenile prank, unknowing of the livelihoods being ripped from people.

One stood up from the bench, stuttering out his words, "Lord Stark!" He bowed quickly, the rest of the group following in suit. "We mean no harm, I swear! Simply following our orders, m'Lord."

Squires, the lot of them. It was clear to see now, these boys were not culprits but pawns. Fools, nonetheless. "And who has ordered hundreds of livestock to be stolen from House Bolton's lands?"

"Not stolen, m'lord!" Another valiantly spoke. "It is collateral, from the promise Lord Bolton owes our Lord Flint."

"A promise? What was owed that is equal to hundreds of livestock?" Cregan huffed out, shealthing his Valyrion steel sword.

"You don't know, m'Lord?" A blonde-haired boy asked, glancing between his friends. "Lord Bolton promised Lord Flint a hundred gold dragons if he could borrow working men to build some houses for him."

"How many? That's a steep price that few would pay for mere houses."

The one next to him shrugged, a shaggy-haired brunette, "a village, I 'eard. Right on the outskirts of the Dreadfort's walls.

The price made more sense, then. But for Bolton to offer a hundred gold dragons to outside help rather than his own men was an odd thing indeed. The first thought that came to mind was that Ryen Bolton was cheap—promising a payment that he never intended to pay and thinking he'd suffer no consequence for it.

"I see now." He sighed, rubbing his temple stressfully. "How did you get past livestock dogs with a whole group of men?"

The blonde smiled a crooked grin, puffing out his chest proudly. "That was my idea, m'Lord! I used some chamomile in their water supplies a few days before taking the herds. Knocks them to sleep real fast, though it doesn't last long."

"And how did you cover the tracks of so many?"

"Carts, m'Lord." One shrugged. "We took the trading route paths at night while some stayed behind to cover the tracks we entered through in the forests. A nasty job, it is." He huffed, scratching at his reddened legs. Seemed like he was one of the ones stuck with that job.

As much as Cregan wished to be angry at the boys, he could not find it in himself to blame them. Orders were orders, after all, and any young squire must follow them to achieve knighthood. "Get to work on returning them. Every. Last. One. I will deal with Flint and Bolton, and see to it that you go unblamed." He said heavily, making it clear that his command was non-negotiable.

With a few scattered groans and sighs, the squires all obeyed and got to work.

Cregan left again, borrowing a chestnut mare to make his journey back faster. He had much to think about.

💠

It was well into the afternoon when he finally returned, pointedly guided away from Lord Bolton's councilroom and chambers by a few maids. "Lord Bolton is resting at this hour. You can join him for supper." One said as she settled down lunch for Cregan in his guest chambers.

Cregan had half a mind to burst down the man's door and demand explanations, but knew that patience would yield the best results in this circumstance. He could not butt heads with such a stubborn and self-righteous man like Ryen.

Finishing his stew quickly, Cregan found himself too restless to stay confined. He took to the halls, intending to head to the gardens for a walk. As he passed the halls, commotion in the nursery caught his attention.

"...Didn't mean to, I promise!" Ciara's voice pleaded tearfully. Cregan wasted no time barging into the room, which had its door shut behind the last who entered. Ryen, it seemed, who loomed over Ciara and Mabel like a wild beast.

Ciara had Mabel clutched in her arms, protectively guarding her babe though she trembled like a leaf. In the hand holding the girl's head was also the lavender blanket, soft as silk and finished with its last sewn touches, he presumed. Neither adult noticed his presence, though young Dalton sat on his little bed and held himself in a ball, glancing up at the newcomer.

"What have I told you about coming in here?! You should be in your rooms until I say otherwise. I cannot deal with such nonsense any longer, I have tolerated your dimwitted behavior for far too long." He boomed, then dwindled into a growl as he spoke.

"I waited for someone to come in so I could ask to come downstairs. It's been nearly all day, so I thought Gresha had gotten ill and forgot to tell another maid to come up." She hurriedly explained herself, expression laced with guilt as she struggled to meet the man's eye.

"This is two days in a row that you've disobeyed my orders and left your room. At this rate, I'll have to lock you in the dungeons just to keep you in place."

"I only wished to give Mabel her blanket. She has been complaining at the night's chill for days." She mustered out, rocking the girl in her arms in a soothing matter as the girl whimpered at her father's tone.

"It is Summer, you daft girl! That girl would complain about the grass being too green, and you'd try to dye it blue just to appease her." He snatched up the blanket, tossing it into the warmed hearth and earning a squealing cry from Mabel.

Finally, Cregan thought he had seen enough. In the comfort of his own home, Ryen Bolton showed the kind of person he was beyond the watchful eye of the Starks. Stepping between Ryen as he took another intimidating step towards his wife, the grip Ryen had taken on Ciara's hand had slackened at the sight of the Lord.

"What are you doing in here, Lord Stark?" He grumbled out, unwilling to back down so easily when he was worked up so much.

"Watching my host make an utter fool of himself. I could hear you from my own chambers," he fibbed slightly. "Shall we reconvene in the council room?" He asked through gritted teeth, wishing to spare the children of a proper argument.

Ryen backed up, shaking his head firmly. "We will speak on the morrow." As he stormed out of the room, calling for a maid to bring him a keg of ale.

Turning to Ciara, Cregan gently brushed her wrist with his calloused fingertips. He saw only the conflicted storm held within glossy eyes, admiring how composed she managed to hold herself for the sake of her babes.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" He asked in a hushed tone, careful not to frighten the girl in her arms. He knew his size was not the most welcome sight to an already shivering young girl, much less one who had clearly been used to the biggest man in the house regularly using his size as an advantage.

Ciara nodded curtly, rocking Mabel in her arms until the girl stopped crying and only sniffled every so often. The repeated motion seemed to work to calm both of them. "Thank you, my Lord." She mumbled as she set the drowsy child into bed. Only afternoon, but little hands were adamantly rubbed at puffy undereyes already, the poor lass had worn herself to exhaustion.

Cregan saw similar puffiness on Ciara but chose to stay silent in his revelations. "Will you not stay in here, or bring the children to your room?" He offered. "I will ensure Lord Bolton does not bother you again today. Perhaps the quietness of the tower would do good for some quality rest."

Ciara seemed to contemplate but sadly shook her head 'no'. "The maester says the tower is much too cold for the children. They cannot regulate body heat as well as we can." She said, tucking Mabel into drab grey sheets. The whole room seemed the same to Cregan, though Dalton's side had more color and personality to it. Spoiled with toys and perhaps any other thing a boy of four had temporary whims for. Most lied scattered at the foot of his bed, though, untouched until a maid came in and cleaned it all up.

"And Dalton?" He asked, hesitating this time.

Ciara glanced up to the bed where he still sat, curious blue eyes on them both as they sat in the still silence. As quick as she looked, she broke the eye contact and left the room.

Puzzled, Cregan ushered the waiting maid at the door into the room, ensuring the children were taken care of being following the woman.

Her steps were hurried and floating, hands holding her dark emerald skirts to allow such fast movements. He noticed then that she was adorned in more fancy jewels. Emerald bracelets and a heavy necklace to match. Even in her simply-braided hair, that he assumed she did herself, lie a few studded pearls.

"Ciara?" He called after her, jogging to catch up with her head start.

She did not turn, instead rushing to the steps faster. On the first step, he was able to catch her arm before she could disappear into the sanctuary of her cold room. "Please, wait." He huffed.

Meeting his eye line better from the height boost, Ciara's face was dimmed with the low light available in the corridor. "What?" She demanded, a harsh and shocking contrast to her previous demeanor.

"What is wrong?" He scanned her briefly. "Is something...wrong with your son?" When he mentioned bringing Dalton along with her, the shift that he saw in her was concerning.

"Of course not!" She said, immediately defending her son with narrowed eyes. "Why would there be?"

"You didn't speak to him—nor comfort him like you did your daughter." The blunt words made her look away, blinking away tears rapidly. None fell, and she sighed shakily, as if the one thing she could control in such an unforgiving place was her own appearance.

"I cannot."

"Cannot speak to your son?"

"I am not allowed to, my Lord." She answered, clenching her jaw tightly. An unladylike behavior to grind her teeth or bite her nails, but both were nasty habits that she anxiously indulged in often.

Cregan laughed almost disbelievingly, shaking his head as if she told a most humorous jest. "Allowed to? I was not aware that mothers were given rules permitting their children's company." Though his growing anger seethed from his body clearly, none of it was directed at the woman in front of him. That did not stop her from stepping up another stair, twisting her ring around her finger as she did.

"It has been set for many moons, now. Lord Bolton had been unhappy with Dalton's behavior when I looked after him. He's better off with the maids." Her own son's name sounded foreign on her tongue, like she had tried to erase him from her mind to make the distance hurt less. Only, there was no distance. There were mere hallways apart at all times, yet it seemed like the Narrow Sea itself was placed between them.

"What could he have been upset with?" Cregan tried to make sense of Ryen's mindset, if he had any at all. A four year old boy could have many problematic behaviors, but surely none that could be influenced by a mother as sweet as Ciara.

Ciara sucked a breath sharply through her teeth, retreating a few steps more. "May I be excused, My Lord? I am quite tired from the day's affairs." She asked. There had only been the one 'affair', as she said herself earlier, but Cregan could not outright challenge her.

"I only wish to understand, Ciara. I want to help you." He pleaded, brows knitting together as he clasped the wooden rail of the stairs.

"You can't. There is no need to meddle in the affairs of others. Please, conduct your business and be on your way." She bit, turning her back and rushing up the steps finally, closing the door behind her.

Cregan was forced to retire to his chambers, his previous plans of visiting the gardens spoiled and his mind exhausted.

Early in the morning, Cregan woke before Ryen Bolton and weaved his way around the staff to start his day. Presuming that the Lord would sleep well into the day, Cregan made his way to the 'village' that had started the problem in the first place.

It was a short walk from the Dreadfort, and an annoyance to the residents who had already made their homes near the keep. When the Stark had asked a villager of the whereabouts of the new town, the old man had scowled deeper and pointed his nose toward the direction, grumbling as he walked off. "These young'ins...always with too much time on 'er hands."

Bemused, Cregan continued on.

As he passed the first building, he finally understood the old man's irritable nature. The entire place smelled of incense, sweat, and sex. He almost gagged, the scent reminiscent of his brief stay in King's Landing. He had made a point to make his visit very short after truly seeing the disgusting sights of the capitol. True, there were brothel houses and short 'silk streets' in the North, too, but never an abundant amount, nor were they as frequented as the ones in the South.

The further he walked through, the more he realized just how dire the situation was. Every single building was not a house like he had figured, but a mere cesspool of vulgarity. Even in the early morning, peeks passed opened doors showed sights of young men indulging themselves in the young and pretty women of the street.

Now, he realized what Bolton's intentions were. He had commissioned an entire 'village' to be made purely for the sake of pleasure and sin. As if the one pleasure house lying on the streets of One Hill, the collection of towns nearest to the Bolton's Dreadfort, were not enough.

It was an insult to the Flints, who made the buildings without compensation. It was an insult to the Starks, who, represented only by Cregan, had generously offered to solve the problem for the Boltons and were lied to blatantly. Most of all, it was an insult to Ryen's wife, who sat locked up in her room day after day, unknowing of her husband's unfaithful nature.

Cregan assessed how many buildings there were total, counting twelve along the cobble path before abruptly making his leave. An older 'Madam' standing at the curtained doorway of one of the houses beckoned the Lord close, a sultry look in her blue eyes. He brushed past the touch she laid on his shoulder, not bothering with polite words as he ignored her entirely.

He would ensure the Bolton Lord never saw the same status that the Starks had granted his house hundreds of years prior. He was not as generous and forgiving as his ancestors.

🩷

this was so hard to write solely in his pov idk why

I had so many good ideas going into this but none translated to words like I wanted them to, most getting scrapped. I need to get something out so I can stop focusing on one-shots for now and get dd chap 15 out its nagging my mind 😪

lmk if I should do a part 2 eventually

[mosaickiwi]

Excuses, Excuses

ok hi i don't remember the past month anyways back to the soft stuff

Angel really likes mistletoe... and really REALLY likes their emo spouse.

-> read on ao3!! cool link!! <-

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

"Ren, do you have a second?"

Your partner looked up from his laptop to see you peeking into their room. The short string of mistletoe in the doorway was right above you — with a large gap between the dangling ribbon and your head that was strangely cute to him. He pushed away from the desk and stood up.

[REDACTED] noticed the way your eyes sparkled at his approach, even the slight lift as you prepared to stand on your tiptoes to reach him. Still, he leaned down to softly peck your forehead. 

"Need somethin', love?" he asked.

You smiled in return. "I was thinking instead of going to the cafe later… I could make breakfast? I've been practicing."

"Sure. I'll come n' keep y'company."

As he turned to gather his things to join you, you hastily grabbed his arm. "No, no, it's okay! You keep working." 

The man gave you a curious glance and you tried to keep your cool, fighting off a bigger smile. Your eyes only flicked upwards for a millisecond, but he immediately caught on. "Alright then," [REDACTED] agreed. "Let me know if y'need anything."

You nodded, not even realizing that he already knew the game. With a skip in your step, you disappeared down the hall.

It was barely a few minutes later that you came back. 

"Rennnn," you sang before leaning into the door frame. Surprisingly, you found them much closer to the door, sitting on the bed with his laptop.  "Oh. Um, how do you like your pancakes?"

He stood once more, closing the distance to you with a few steps. Another kiss to your cheek this time, and he spoke, "The same way you like yours."

"Right… just making sure!" you said, giggling as he pulled you close. 

"You really don't want me t'keep you company?" His breath tickled your hair. They weren't actually upset, but wanted to play their part until you got bored of your game. He gave a little squeeze before letting you go.

If the hacker had his way, all the mistletoe in the apartment would be woven together in a crown for you. Or, the more likely option, simply taped to your forehead. Maybe they'd suggest it after you had your fun. 

You firmly shook your head. "I want to surprise you. I'll come back when everything's ready."

Once you left the room, your dark haired lover pulled out their phone to watch the cameras in the kitchen. Through the cracked screen, he saw you actually mixing batter for pancakes. But then… you started to open and shut cabinets, clink a few glasses together, and loudly drop a pan or two on the counter for good measure.

He had to smile at your over commitment — the chance to mess with you for it was too good to pass up. His footsteps were silent as he went towards the kitchen and stopped just out of sight in the hallway. 

"Everything okay in there?" he said, silently laughing at the feed as you ducked down to hide behind a counter. "You're makin' a lot of noise f'just pancakes."

"... Well, I'm not that good at cooking yet," you eventually responded. You slowly stood up and went back to mixing the batter in case he walked in. "Don't come in, though! Nothing's on fire."

"If y'say so."

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

When you came back to his bedroom for the third time, [REDACTED] was already waiting beside the door, wondering what your next excuse would be.

You peeked your head in, eyes widening at the sight of him standing so close by. "Hiii." Impatiently, you waited for your kiss. But nothing happened. You pouted and searched for a reason to bother him. "Um… I forgot what you like to drink."

He had seen you starting the coffee pot before heading into the hall, but acted none the wiser. "Black coffee."

You stood there for a few more seconds as they pretended to occupy himself with the phone. You finally broke the silence, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Yeah, Angel?" his gaze flicked to you. "Like what?"

"Like the…" you trailed off as you looked overhead to find the doorway empty. You curiously glanced all around the room, but the mistletoe was nowhere to be found — as if it was never even there. With a frown, you realized he'd been onto you the whole time. "Put it back."

The man said nothing as he reached into his pocket. "Y'know, you could just wear it," he teased, finally holding the small, ribboned bundle of stems out to you.

"Ooh, good idea," you agreed immediately and took it, then walked away to the kitchen, naturally assuming he'd follow. Rummaging through a draw by the sink, you found a roll of tape. The mistletoe got haphazardly stuck to your forehead, and before you could turn around completely, [REDACTED] was already waiting to kiss you. 

You happily tilted your head back, still holding the mistletoe in place as best you could. His lips pressed light and soft to yours. You could feel his hair faintly touch your fingers, and their hand wrap along the side of your hip trapped between his body and the counter.

"There," he whispered against the corner of your mouth. "Isn't this easier than findin' every reason t'stand under it?" He pulled back to reach up to a cabinet at your side without waiting for your answer. As he did, you eagerly tore another piece of tape off for your mistletoe.

The stacks of pancakes you'd made — all in the attempted shape of a tree, the prettiest ones at the top — were still warm on their platter next to the stove. You carried them over to the table and sat down, your beloved hacker on your heels with two drinks. Your favorite for the winter and his usual black coffee were in their hands.

One mug was set beside your plate, but not before another kiss was set upon your cheek to go with it. Then another once he set down his own. And another once they sat in their chair next to you.

You muffled your laughter with the back of your hand. "Is this gonna happen until the mistletoe comes off?" But it was exactly what you'd been hoping for when he gave you the idea.

[REDACTED] took a long, slow slip of his coffee. He idly licked his lips before answering your question. "'Course it is." Your cheek felt warm from the familiar touch of his lips soon after.

As you picked up your fork to eat, you mumbled quietly enough for them to barely hear, "I'll have to use more tape."

[prettydaisygirl]

hey!

i'm so in love with your streamer James, so i was thinking if you could do somenthing where James discovers that reader likes other streamers besides him, or maybe has an hyperfixtation and doesn't receive that much of attetion, how would he react? offended, jealous, sad? (in a funny way, i don't want to hurt my baby boy)

btw, i love your writing, so if you do this, tysm!

hope your okay! 🩷

heyyyy bestie :) Thanks for requesting this, I'm sorry it's been a while since you requested but obvi we had the celebration and that was fun too. Hope this is kind of what you were looking for, it got away from me a bit. <3

streamer!James Potter x fem!superfan!reader who finds a new streamer ✿ 1.4k words

cw: fem reader, established relationship, mentions of James and Lily (previous), a hint of wolfstar

°˖✧✿✧˖°

previous part

James can see the moment he loses your attention, not that he was truly focused on keeping it. The two of you are snuggled together in his bed, him playing Minecraft with the marauders and you’re on your phone. You’re sitting between his legs with your back to his chest, and it’s when he feels your back shake from little giggles that he knows he’s lost you.

“What are you giggling at, hmm?” He asks, placing one final block down before nuzzling his nose into the side of your head. He presses a kiss to your hair and ignores the sounds of protest in his ear from his friends. You squirm a bit from the affection before settling back against him. 

“Just this new streamer I’ve been watching.” You say, like it’s a casual thing and you haven’t been cheating on him by watching someone else. 

“Hey, woah!” James sits up abruptly, jostling you in his lap. His controller falls to the comforter below the two of you, and this time he can’t hear the yelling of his friends because he slides his headphones off. His hand grabs your phone, and he sees your eyes widen when he does. “You can’t watch another streamer, that’s cheating!”

You give him a look and roll your eyes, even though you know he’s just teasing. “I watch the other Marauders all the time!”

“That’s not the same!” Your boyfriend argues, holding the phone above his head. “Now tell me, who is this other streamer that has stolen your heart and taken you away from me?”

The corner of your lip parks up and you raise your brows. You’re used to his dramatics, but James doesn’t back down. He mimics your look, raising his own brows. You scoff.

“James.” He shakes his head, then gestures to the phone in his hand, waiting for your answer.

“Who is it?” James’ voice is playfully tense, the spark in his eyes shining bright and giving away that he isn’t serious. Or at least, not entirely.

“It’s just this gamer girl,” You say, but his dramatics don't budge.

“You’re committing adultery with a gamer girl?!” He’s practically clutching his pearls.

“James, it’s not adultery. I’m watching a live-stream.”

“So then, tell me! Who’s your side piece?”

You take a heavy breath, realizing that he isn’t going to let up. You don’t know why it’s such a big deal anyway, so you roll your eyes and tell him.

“Her name is RedHotLils? She plays a lot of the same stuff you do. She’s cute, I like her community too.”

James’ reaction isn’t… bad, per se. It’s just not really what you’re expecting. 

“Oh.” He says, and lowers his hand to give you the phone back. You take it back, immediately picking up on his change in attitude. “Well, that’s… yeah. That’s fine.”

Okay. That’s odd. Jame is not awkward like this. You eye him a bit suspiciously as your gaze returns to the phone in your hand. James gathers you back in his arms, pressing a few kisses to your head before returning to his game, but you know something is wrong. You expected a bigger reaction, especially given how much banter you’d had. Maybe him going into her chat and declaring that your love is for him and him alone. Or maybe a dramatic boo-hoo where he playfully begs you to never watch anyone but him again. You didn’t expect… nothing?

Is he upset? Is he actually jealous, and you just thought he was being silly? Normally, James is very open about his feelings. You’ve never questioned yourself like this, never had a problem reading him before. 

It’s like… it never happened. James is back to his usual self. If it weren’t for that lingering, icky feeling in your gut, you probably would’ve forgotten all about it. It stays until James is asleep in bed next to you and it’s all you can think about. His soft snores and the heavy arm around your back don’t help your mind to stop racing. 

Eventually, you slip out of his hold as gently as you can, holding your breath and praying he doesn’t wake up. You place a pillow in the space where your body had been, his arms instantly cradling the soft cotton the way he would you. You wait just a moment, hovering over the bed, seeing if he’ll wake up. 

When he doesn’t, you slip out of his bed, out of his room, and down the hall to Remus’. You knock softly, just a tap, but there’s no answer. You peek inside to see the sandy-haired man asleep, sprawled out on his bed. It doesn’t surprise you to see Sirius curled up next to him despite having his own room next door. 

You tiptoe to the side of the bed, crouching beside Remus. Part of you feels guilty for waking him up but also it’s eating you alive. 

“Remus.” You whisper, just loud enough to have him blinking awake. He groans a bit and you panic, trying to gesture to him to be quiet. “I’m sorry, I���m so sorry for waking you up. But I have a question and I can’t sleep.” 

He sits up on his elbows, pushing Sirius’ arm off of him. Sirius doesn’t move a muscle, sleeping like the dead. “‘s going on?” Remus asks you.

You purse your lips for just a second, take a breath, and say, “I… don’t know? James was acting weird earlier and I think I might’ve said something that hurt his feelings.”

Remus blinks slowly, brain still a bit sluggish from sleep. “Well, I’m certain that you would know if you hurt his feelings. He’s quite forward.”

“I know,” You stress, leaning your cheek against the edge of his mattress. “That’s why I’m confused. We were just… y’know, talking shit, and then he stopped. And went back to playing with you guys and he hasn’t mentioned it again.”

“What were you talking about?” Remus asks, interrupted once by a yawn. He rubs at an eye, and only now do you see Sirius shift a bit. Oh good, he isn’t dead.

You fill Remus in on what happened between you and James, how everything was great until it wasn’t, and then it was again. By the end, Remus looks just as confused as you do. “Who was it?”

“Huh?” You ask, and then you register his question. “Uh, her name is RedHotLils? She’s just another gamer, she’s-”

Remus laughs. Like actually laughs out loud, enough to have Sirius jumping awake and glaring at his boyfriend. 

“Lily?” Remus shakes his head a bit, and the name seems to catch Sirius’ attention too, even half-asleep. “You were watching Lily?”

“What about Lily?” Sirius rubs at his eyes, voice practically a groan, “Are we talking about the Valkyries?”

“James accused her of cheating on him with Lily.” This has Sirius laughing too, and you look between the two men.

“Why is that funny?” You ask, clearly missing something. 

It’s Sirius who answers, voice still bubbling with giggles as he speaks. “Because James and Lily used to hook up.”

Oh.

“Oh.” Your voice mimics your inner dialogue, and Remus is quick to shake his head and quell any doubts you might have.

“We adore Lily. Really, all of them, they’re all wonderful.” Remus speaks as Sirius flops back down next to Remus with one final chuckle. “Our groups were closer before, when the two of them were together. But Lily, she ended it. Because, well, she-”

“She likes girls.” Sirius finishes for his boyfriend, reaching to tug him back down. Remus complies, becoming Sirius’ pillow once again. 

“Exactly.” Remus says, and you nod in understanding. “James assumes everyone knows about what happened with Lily. You probably just shocked him, love. It’s been awhile since any of us have really talked.”

You thank Remus and he waves you off, already falling back asleep and Sirius starts to snore right on cue as you leave the room. You slip back into James’ room, replacing the pillow you’d placed in his arms, and let yourself wrap around him. 

It makes sense, then, why he was awkward if the two groups used to be friends. You snuggle into James, letting his body envelope yours. It’s a little sad that the group fell apart after Lily and James broke up. As you start to drift off, you wonder if something, or maybe someone, could bring them all back together again.

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© prettydaisygirl