#Ghost: surely I've held her hands like once

[gomzdrawfr]

grocery shopping (long doodle ahead)

extra:

[skywalkerslvt]

Bra Shopping With Ellie

❥Pairing: Ellie Williams x F!Reader

❥Summary: You had been hitting on Ellie for a while, but she was too oblivious to realize you liked her. So, you took matters into your own hands, and made her help you go bra shopping. Things ensue…

❥CW: 18+, smut, semi-public sex, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), pet names (the name 'baby' is used once), dom ellie, bottom reader, Ellie is oblivious as fuck at first lol, 1.8k words

❥a/n: Everyone clap I've been very productive and actually finished one of my unfinished fics woohoo! First Ellie fic hope you enjoy <3 NOT PROOFREAD pics are from pinterest

You were fed up. So fucking fed up. You had been hitting on Ellie for what felt like an eternity, but she was completely oblivious, unable to get it through her pretty little head that you wanted her. It didn't matter how many times you complimented her, or how often you found excuses to be around her, to touch her, Ellie just didn't get it. She was endearing, but her cluelessness was driving you insane. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and in this case, it meant dragging Ellie to the mall with you to go bra shopping. Surely, even she couldn't miss the signals this time. 

As you entered the crowded mall, you grabbed Ellie's hand, beelining for the first frilly lingerie shop you could find. Ellie trailed behind you, a puzzled look on her face as she glanced around nervously at the delicate fabrics and lace-adorned displays. 

“Uh, are you sure this is where you wanna be?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. 

You gave her a sweet, innocent smile, determination in your eyes. “Of course. I need a second opinion, and you're the perfect person for the job.” 

Ellie's cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink, but she nodded, letting you lead her further into the store. As you started browsing the store, you couldn't help but steal glances at her. You intentionally picked up the most revealing bras you could find, asking her if she thought you'd look good in them, to which she nodded, averting her eyes to avoid looking at them for too long. 

As you finished picking out your bras, you grabbed Ellie’s arm, dragging her to the dressing rooms. “I'm going to try these on. Come with me?” you asked sweetly.

“Y-yeah, sure. No problem,” Ellie stuttered out, scratching the back of her neck. 

You stepped into the dressing room, leaving the curtain open slightly, just enough for Ellie to see you. As you began removing your shirt, you peeked out, hoping to find Ellie’s eyes on you. Much to your dismay, her back was turned to you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with her watching eyes. God this girl was oblivious. You were done giving her not-so-subtle hints. You were turning into a desperate whore, and you needed her now. 

So, as you removed your own bra and reached for the most revealing bra you picked out from the store, you held the cups up to your breasts and called out to Ellie. 

“Ellie? Can you help me with something?” you called out softly, back to the curtain as your front faced the mirror. You heard her feet shuffle. 

“Yeah, of course. What do you need?” she replied.

You smirked to yourself, hoping that she would finally break through her obliviousness. “Can you just come in here?” 

“Uh…A-are you sure you want me to–” the rest of her sentence was cut off as you held the bra to your chest with one hand, reaching outside of the curtain and dragging her into the dressing room with you. 

“Yes, I'm sure. Now, will you help me clip this bra?” 

Ellie flushed deeply, her eyes raking up and down your half naked form, eyes lingering on your barely covered breasts. Unable to form words, she nodded hastily, still staring at your chest. 

You smirked as you turned around. Was she finally starting to see your flirting? Her fingers brushed against your back as she grabbed the straps of the bra, clasping it together. Her fingers ghosted along the straps, sending shivers down your spine, but as though she realized what she was doing, her movements abruptly stopped and she stepped back. 

How was she still not getting it!? 

You turned around to face her, and her eyes immediately drifted to your chest, then made their way back up to meet yours. You fiddled with the lace, still playing innocent. “What do you think?” you asked, tone husky despite the innocent look in your eyes. 

Ellie nervously glanced down to your breasts again, taking in the sight of the lacy pink bra pushing your tits together. The way she was looking at you made heat curl low in your belly, arousal beginning to pool in your panties. “Looks good…” she replied with a shaky exhale. 

“I don’t know if I like the fabric,” you said while still playing with the lace, taking an impossibly close step to her. “Here, feel it.” You reached for her hand, bringing it up to cup your breast. Ellie inhaled sharply, but made no move to remove her hand, instead stroking the fabric with her fingers. She squeezed your breast slightly, eyes meeting yours with a silent question. 

“Maybe you should try on another one,” she said, voice low and sultry. You nodded, biting your lip. “Help me take this one off.”

Ellie, now finally taking the hint, pulled you flush against her body by your belt loops, your breasts now pushed up against her torso. Her hands found your waist, slowly sliding to your back and unclasping your bra. 

She pulled the delicate fabric from your form, letting it fall to the ground as she took in the sight of your bare breasts. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you pushed her up against the wall of the dressing room, lips crashing onto hers. She kissed you back hungrily, hands squeezing your hips as you ground into her. 

She spun you around so that your back was flush against the wall, and stuck a thigh between yours, your clothed cunt now flush with her leg as she began groping your tits, mouth trailing down your neck, leaving dark purple marks. Your fingers tangled into her hair as you tilted your head back, giving her more access to your neck. She began pushing her thigh into your cunt, encouraging you to begin grinding against her. You complied, letting out a breathy moan. 

“Fuck, Ellie…took you long enough,” you whined, eyes closing at the pleasant sensations. Ellie hummed against your neck, fingers tweaking with your sensitive nipples as her tongue soothed the marks on your neck. 

Her fingers trailed down to your pants, fumbling with the buttons as her lips met yours in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. She pushed your jeans down your hips, fingers swiping over your pussy through your damp panties. She hooked her index finger in the side of your panties, sliding them to the side, and pushed her middle finger inside of your sopping hole. 

You sighed at the feeling, cunt clenching down as she slid her ring finger in alongside her middle finger, scissoring them as her palm ground down on your clit. Her deft fingers curled, finding your g-spot, and your back arched off against the wall, pushing your tits forward. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her hot tongue found one of your nipples, circling around the pebbled flesh before taking it into her mouth and sucking. You babbled out a series of curses, the pleasure all too much. 

She released your nipple from her mouth, coming back up to whisper in your ear. “Quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing in here, do we?” Her breath was hot against your ear, and you nodded before she kissed you, then returned back to your tits. 

As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity, a wave of heat surged through your body. Your breath hitched, coming out in shallow gasps, and your muscles tensed, coiling tightly. The world around you seemed to fade away, your focus narrowing to the overwhelming sensation radiating from deep within your cunt. 

A moment later, you were swept away in a powerful release. Your body trembled, quivering with each pulse of ecstasy. The sensation washed over you in waves, pussy gushing all over Ellie’s fingers, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Your mind went blank, consumed by pure unadulterated pleasure. 

She removed her fingers, bringing them up to your lips. You opened your mouth, circling your tongue over the digits, moaning at the taste of your arousal. Ellie’s pupils were blown wide, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she slid her fingers out of your mouth. She wanted more. 

Ellie dropped to her knees and propped one of your thighs over her shoulder. Sticking her tongue out, she licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, all while maintaining eye contact with you. You moaned and bucked your hips forward at the delicious overstimulation to your poor abused clit, only further encouraging Ellie’s ministrations. Her lips closed around your clit, sucking harshly as her fingers found their way back to your dripping hole.  

Her tongue flicked against your sensitive nub, alternating between quick, teasing licks and slow, deliberate strokes that had your legs shaking. You clung to the wall behind you, struggling to stay upright as Ellie devoured you with a fervour that bordered on desperate.

"Fuck, Ellie, just like that," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the other shoppers just outside the dressing room. The illicit nature of the situation only heightened your arousal, each muffled moan and gasp making you feel like you were on the edge of being caught.

Ellie's fingers worked in tandem with her mouth, curling inside you to hit that perfect spot over and over again. Your body tensed, a familiar coil of heat tightening in your core. Ellie seemed to sense your impending orgasm, increasing the pressure of her tongue and the pace of her fingers, driving you relentlessly toward the brink.

When your orgasm finally crashed over you, it was even more intense than the first. Your thighs clamped around Ellie's head as your body convulsed with pleasure. She didn't let up, milking every last wave of ecstasy from you until you were a trembling, gasping mess.

Finally, she pulled back, her chin glistening with your arousal. She stood up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

“Get dressed. We’re heading back to my place to finish what you started,” she said boldly, squeezing your hips before handing you your jeans.

You quickly dressed, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. As you adjusted your clothes, you glanced at Ellie, her eyes dark and intense, filled with desire.

Before stepping out of the dressing room, Ellie pulled you close, her lips brushing against your ear. "You were amazing," she whispered, her voice low and husky. "And trust me, this is just the beginning."

You shivered at her words, feeling a thrill of excitement shoot through you. As you both exited the dressing room, the crowded mall seemed like a distant reality, knowing that the next time you were alone, things would get even more intense.

[greyskyflowers]

I have found there's very specific things I just really enjoy in fics about Edwin and Charles's romantic relationship.

So, I honestly just can't picture Charles anything other than very inexperienced at intimacy but so excited. Like a teenager feeling up his first girlfriend in the back of a car or under the bleachers. Excited, nervous, eager to please and just kind of in awe of being able to touch someone like that. He's got almost no idea what he's doing but he's 100% open and willing to learning.

I think he always ends up smiling into kisses, a little lopsided grin that's pleased as hell. He always offers a bunch of little encouragements and comforts You're doing great. I know it's a lot but I've got you. You feel good.

And lots of nipping, bites, and marks because no one will ever convince me Charles is not a hickey man.

Charles thrives on positive feedback and Edwin makes sure to always give praise.

Edwin is just kind of overwhelmed with intimacy. Being intimate with someone is a lot, especially if you haven't had it before and you've kind of built it up in your head.

So, I always feel like Edwin is in this constant closer no that's too close wait come back push and pull of anxious affection that has him leaning into every touch even though he's also trying to pull away at the same time.

Lots of bitten off noises, hums and gasps. He touches like he's scared he's going to break something or it's all going to disappear.

If they have to stop because it gets to be too much for Edwin, Charles doesn't ever look upset. He's pleased as hell to be doing any of this. He can't think of anything Edwin could ever do to disappoint him.

Careful, light, sure touches because the only intimacy they both really have is terrible. Edwin with the boys who held him down and hell. Charles with his dad.

I think Charles shows his love by loving someone and Edwin shows his love by letting himself be loved.

Charles wasn't able to show love to his family or his friends, who weren't friends at all. I personally imagine he had lots of girls he messed around with while he was alive with but it never went beyond that into something serious.

He can't show his love to humans, like Crystal, because it makes them look crazy. He can't hold a living girl's hand in public without her getting looks. They can't kiss or even talk with other living humans around without it being strange.

He can show his love to Edwin in a way he can't show it to anyone else.

Edwin is proud to be seen with Charles. He can talk and touch and be with Charles regardless of who's around. I personally like the idea that ghosts can feel other ghosts, as if they were living people or something close to that.

So, being with Edwin feels like he's with Edwin.

I just think once the ice is broken on what their relationship is, that he'd be all over it. Holding hands, quick kisses, hugs, sitting next to each other or all tangled together. Also a big fan of Charles coming up behind Edwin, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch whatever it is he's doing.

Edwin didn't have close friends or family when he was alive, at least that we're aware of. Then he spent decades in hell where his only touch was painful, terrrifying, never ending.

Letting someone touch him, put him in such a vulnerable position physically and emotionally, is a big ask. That's why he's never done it or seem to have even contemplated it until he realizes his feelings about Charles.

He lets Charles touch him, and protect him, and know him more than anyone one else living or dead. It's easy to open himself up for Charles to love him.

I also feel like there's such a comfort level there that Edwin could say I think I'd like to try *insert action here* and Charles would be like yep yep we can do that or Charles could say I've always wanted to try *insert action here* and Edwin's like okay I'll find a book and read up on it with a fluttering of anxious excitement.

Do I also personally like to think bdsm dynamics, sexual and/or nonsexual, are present in their relationship? Yes. Absolutely. 100%.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 5

Author’s Note: My plans got canceled last night so I ended up finishing this part earlier than expected!! Part 6 has already been started and will hopefully be out within the next 2 days! :)

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 5 Summary: After waking up, your fight has only just begun.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"I need Rhys or Feyre." You blurted.

Azriel just stared at you, looking confused yet relieved.

"Now!" You demanded once you noticed he wasn't moving.

His shadows swallowed him up taking him to find either of the two.

Feyre winnowed in with Az within moments, Rhys showing up separately quick after.

"Look in my mind" You panted, still out of breath feeling the new power thrumming through you.

Your High Lady and High Lord both looked in your mind as you replayed for them all you had been through. They saw how you were awake and felt everything. They saw how vulnerable and weak you felt. And they saw the mystery inside of you was definitely a new power.

"What was it, what power was that? I've never seen it before." Feyre muttered, confused at everything that was going on.

She was away meeting with a few other courts, Rhys had spoken to her letting her know what was going on and she came back right away. Thinking you were still unconscious, she began helping her mate research instead of visiting you. They were both holed up in the library when Az appeared bringing them here.

"I'm not sure. I can feel it but I can't access it, can't control it." You mumbled.

Az stood behind both Rhys and Feyre, watching you as if he'd seen a ghost. You noticed his staring and gave him a questioning look. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"You're awake." He stated simply.

Feyre, Rhys and you all shared a look with each other.

"It's just...you were unconscious minutes ago and Madja said we would need to figure out a treatment. And now you just...sat up and are talking to us like normal?" He elaborated.

"I don't really understand it either but I do know I was awake the entire time. I felt your shadows in my mind, I knew you were there." You uttered, "But I am still very confused on a ton of things as well."

"It was Clara.." Az mumbled.

More memories came flooding back to you. Everything Clara did replayed in your mind. You remembered the powder she blew in your face and most of all, you remembered how Az didn't believe you.

"We learned she wasn't trying to kill you. She was trying to make you sick to impress Az by helping you and making you better again." Rhys informed you.

"Oh that makes it all better, she didn't mean to almost end my life, just harm me severely. I suppose I should forgive her and pretend everything is fine." You snarled.

"I didn't say that. Cassian and Nesta are handling it right now. She will be held in the dungeon until she has served her time." Rhys told you with an understanding voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just overwhelmed right now." You apologized.

Rhys gave you a small smile and a nod, he didn't hold it against you. Feyre put her hand on your shoulder to show you she was there for you.

The pair were already thinking about this newfound power you held. They needed to make sure you were 100% alright and inform Madja about what had happened. They let you know what they were going to do and winnowed away to find the healer.

"I'm so glad you're alright. You have no idea how terrified I-" Az started to tell you.

"I have no idea how terrified you were? I was being poisoned, felt my powers draining and I told you. I told you and you didn't believe me. Do you know how scared and alone I felt?" You cut him off, "No you have no idea. I felt strands of my soul being plucked apart, venom being torn out of my very being because of her...and you...you told me my mind was playing tricks on me."

You finished your short rant with a sob, tears started to flood your face.

"I will never be able to make this up to you but I swear on my life that I will never stop trying. I am so terribly sorry for not believing you." He sobbed.

"No. I needed help, I needed you and you ignored me. Made me feel crazy. You do realize you held me down while she cut me open. I bit down on your belt while she sliced me with her blade." You cried.

Azriel was now on his knees next to the bed. His own tears matching yours, although he was not crying for himself. No, he was crying for you. Minutes past, the only sound in the room was the combination of your sobs, like a symphony of sorrows.

You sniffled, willing your tears to dry.

"You chose someone you've known for 2 weeks over someone you've known for 100 years," you croaked out, "and for that, I do not know if I can ever forgive you."

Azriel looked up into your eyes, truly realizing the extent of what he had done when the door suddenly shot open. Mor stood there looking frantic.

"There's a terrible storm outside right now. We need to take cover. The wards that are protecting this house should keep us safe but I don't want to risk anything with Y/N right now." She warned us.

"A storm?" Your confusion was evident on your face.

"Yes. Rain, thunder, lightning, tornadoes, the whole nine yards." She confirmed as she worked quickly to gather things you might need.

You tried to move from the bed but your wounds were deeper than skin level. Your soul had been wounded.

"I don't think I can move." You faltered.

"I got you." Az offered, starting to pick you up.

Quickly you flinched away from him, not wanting to be near him. There was a loud boom of thunder and you could hear the wind picking up. After hesitating a few seconds, you let him carry you out of there to a safer room with less windows.

The three of you made your way to a room downstairs and Az placed you on a couch nearby. Anxiety began to quickly consume your mind and Mor must have sensed it.

"Hey, don't worry. There's never been a storm that destroyed this house. The wards were placed by Rhys himself so we should be ok. This is just an extra safety precaution." Mor said with certainty.

You didn't think it was possible but after a couple minutes the storm seemed to pick up even more. The wind outside was so loud now you couldn't hear yourself think.

Mor sat on the floor next to you with her arm protectively over you. A loud crash could be heard and the sound of glass breaking was too close for comfort. The look on Mor's face did nothing to bring you solace.

Realization that they had never seem a storm like this hit and Az wrapped his arms around you and Mor, stretching his wings to surround the three of you.

It only lasted a couple minutes longer, then you could hear it starting to settle. Once it sounded like it was over completely, he withdrew his wings and the three of you looked around. The room you were in was untouched but you needed to check everywhere else.

"I need to go make sure everything is alright." Azriel stated.

"I'll stay here with Y/N and try to contact Rhys and Feyre." Mor told the male.

He gave her a nod and winnowed away.

"I've never seen anything like that. I can't imagine how hard the town was hit, I hope everyone is ok." Mor mumbled.

You felt what could only be described as waves going through your body. Unsure if it was anxiety or your power, you tried to calm it. Hours later, the feeling was still there and no one had shown up yet.

"I'm getting a little worried, no one is responding to me." Mor told you.

"I'll be fine, you can go find them." You reassured her.

Giving you a quick hug, she took off in search of your friends and family. She was only gone for about a half hour when she returned, her face pale.

Rhys, Feyre, and Madja were with her as well.

"Is everyone ok?" You asked hurriedly.

"Everyone is fine." Feyre whispered.

"That's a relief..." You trailed off seeing the looks on their faces.

"We need you to listen to what we say and understand that is doesn't change anything. None of us are hurt, Cass and Nesta are fine. Everything is ok." Rhys spoke calmly.

"If that's the case, why are you guys looking at me like that?" You questioned.

The four of them shared looks with each other and Feyre kneeled down next to the couch you were laying on.

"We think the storm might have been...you." She carefully informed you.

"What??" You breathed.

"We think your new power is somehow connected to the weather. Rhys noticed it first, there's no other way to explain it besides the wind felt like you. We all know you didn't do anything on purpose." Feyre continued to explain to you with a soothing voice.

"I did that?" You spoke in disbelief.

Mor tapped Rhys and looked around. They could feel the electricity in the air, another storm. This time, likely caused by the news you were recieving. They knew they needed to act fast.

"We know it's new and you can't control it. Please let me subdue your mind right now while we figure it out. If you unleash another storm, the consequences might be too severe." Rhys told you, tears forming in his eyes at seeing his friend go through this.

You agreed right away, nodding your head yes. You couldn't bare causing any more damage. Rhys gave you a small, sad smile and you could feel him at the gate in your mind, asking to be let in even though you just gave him permission.

"We will be right by your side the entire time." Feyre whispered to you.

You opened the gate for Rhys and sleep quickly took over. As soon as they were certain your mind was subdued, Mor spoke up.

"You can come out now." She announced.

Azriel walked out from his hiding place behind the door.

"I still don't agree with this." He mumbled.

"You saw what happened the last time she spoke to you. If she saw you, another storm would have been imminent." Rhys hissed at his brother.

"No I mean, I don't agree with keeping it from her. She deserved to know the truth." He retorted.

"The truth," Rhys huffed a laugh, "You think it would've been smart to tell her what actually happened? That the storm she caused destroyed many homes in town, injured over 20 civilians, and killed two of them? She's been through enough. She didn't need to hear that even if it wouldn't have caused another storm."

Azriel looked down at his shoes, guilty and crestfallen.

"We need to get to work right away. Create some kind of ward or contraption that can contain her power when we wake her up." The Night Court High Lord informed the group.

"I think I can help with that." A voice spoke suddenly from behind all of them.

They all turned to see Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court standing there.

"You know I love to make a grand entrance." He spoke with a grin.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @theravenphoenix26

@anoneyesee @ren-ni @kabekusa @isa1b2h3 @i-am-infinite

@historygeekqueen @mariahoedt @fr0stf4ll @chelsiemp @romantasyreader28

@kissesfromnovalie @plants-w0rld @halo-mystic @bookishbishhh

[stylesluxx]

all of the girls you loved before – a. hotchner

[warnings: none]

summary: in which y/n is grateful for aaron's experiences – inspired by all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

word count: 773

main masterlist

You've heard the stories before, the whispered mentions of the women that had come before you. Each one left a mark on him, a trace you sometimes wondered if you could see in the way he moved, the way he held you when you felt his steady hands against your back. Aaron Hotchner didn't often talk about them, but in the quiet moments, their presence lingered like a ghost in the room, a history you couldn't touch but could feel.

It wasn't jealousy, exactly. It was more the weight of knowing you weren't his first love, that he had lived entire lifetimes before you. Maybe you'd catch him staring off into the distance, his jaw tight as memories flickered across his face. You never pried, though the questions sometimes bubbled at the back of your throat. He would have told you if he wanted to, you reminded yourself.

But tonight was different. Tonight, something between you shifted.

You were sitting together on the porch, the soft hum of autumn night air around you, the distant sounds of traffic on the street below a low murmur. The team was away on a case, but for once, he wasn't. He had stayed behind, citing exhaustion, though you knew it wasn't just about fatigue. He needed time. Space. And you were here for him, silently offering the support he rarely let himself ask for.

Aaron sipped his drink, his fingers grazing the glass as he looked out into the darkened sky. You followed his gaze, wondering where his mind had drifted this time. His silence wasn't unusual, but there was a tension tonight that made the air between you feel thicker than usual. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft, like he wasn't sure he was ready for the words.

"I don't think I've ever told you about Haley."

His ex-wife. You'd heard her name before, of course, but he rarely mentioned her. Even now, years after her death, the grief still hung in his eyes when he did. You turned slightly, giving him your full attention, heart tightening as you prepared yourself for whatever he needed to say.

"She was... everything to me. For a long time." He let out a breath, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass. "And when I lost her, I didn't think I could feel that way again. About anyone."

You didn't speak, just listened, knowing this wasn't something you could fix. This was something he had to let out, piece by piece.

"I wasn't looking for this, for us." His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world stopped turning. "But somehow, you're here."

He shifted, setting his drink aside and taking your hand in his. His fingers were warm against yours, grounding you as his gaze softened, the weight of years of pain and love swirling in his eyes.

"I used to think the past would always have this hold on me, that I'd never be able to let go of all the girls I loved before. But then I realized... they led me here. To you."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing into your chest. You didn't need him to explain further. You knew what he meant—that every love, every loss, every heartbreak had shaped him into the man sitting beside you. And somehow, through all of it, he had found his way to you.

He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance that he was here, with you, now.

"I don't regret any of it," he continued, his voice quieter now. "Because without it, I wouldn't have you. And that's something I wouldn't trade for anything."

The tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them, the emotion of his confession wrapping around your heart. You'd always known there was a part of him that would forever belong to the past, to Haley, to the life he had before. But now, hearing him say it, you realized it wasn't about competing with those memories. It was about understanding that you were part of his story now, a chapter he hadn't expected but cherished all the same.

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder as he pulled you closer, the unspoken understanding settling between you. There was no need for more words, not tonight. You both knew that love wasn't about erasing the past—it was about accepting it, embracing it, and realizing that every step along the way had led to this moment.

And in that moment, you realized something too.

You were glad for all the girls he loved before, because without them, without everything he had been through, you might never have found your way to him.

And now that you had, you weren't going to let go.

[AN: oh hey... I think I'm going to do febuwhump to get out of my writing slump. I'll keep you guys updated. I also have a ko-fi account now??? no pressure but it's link in my navigation and here! and of course... my taglist. lmk your thoughts. love you byeee]

[bunny-jpeg]

like rum on fire

simon "ghost" riley

cw: angst/fluff/smut, homecoming, slight mentions of ptsd, gentle sex, plus sized!reader, body worship, missionary, sleepy sex, a gentle fic

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own <3

to come home was to rest his tired head, to finally let himself relax. he had been away for two months, and every day felt like an eternity away from you. how he longed for the smell of your hair and the softness of your skin. he was a man primed for war, but when he was curled up in the bed you shared, he felt human.

like he was made of the pieces that made a human being, not manufactured to be a killer. that he was capable to be loved, to be adored by a you.

the roundness of your face, the thickness of your thighs, the smile you had. it melted away the facade he carried. coming home to you was like finding new life after living in the shadows.

to love you was an inferno in his chest that he couldn't ignore. and as he curled up closer to you on the bed, he felt content with life. his large hand grazed your soft middle and his nose was up against your neck. he could feel the laziness of your pulse as you slept.

"i love you." he said softly into your skin. his mind felt scarred with layers that went inches deep, his face fared no better. but yet you kissed him with passion.

you were not afraid to be seen with him in public. he softly kissed at your skin and held onto you tightly. not tight enough to hurt you, but enough to make him feel secure that you wouldn't slip away.

"i love you. i love you. i love you. i love you." he whispered, his voice caught your ear which caused you to stir. he watched you closely as you turned in his arms and reached out to grab the front of his grey t-shirt.

"what was that?" you asked, your eyes opened a little wider as you yawned, "did you say something?"

"nothin', love." he said softly.

you let go of his shirt and reached for his face where you softly touched the scars on his cheek and mouth. you blinked away and yawned again, "no, no. tell me."

he smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, "it was nothin' special."

you shook your head a little, "i wanna know."

"i love you, doll." he said as he took your head from his face and held onto it. he kissed your knuckle, "you make me feel human."

you felt more awake, "well, simon. i've always thought you were human. don't worry, i made sure to check for any robot parts. you're made of the same squishy stuff as me." you chuckled.

he slowly put you onto your neck and hung over you with his hands planted on either side of you. he kissed your face, which only woke you up more. "my love."

you giggled at his kisses, "oh, simon." you tilted your head to the side and embraced his warmth against you, "you're tickling me."

"i can't get enough of ya, love." he said as he continued to kiss your neck. his hands touched your arms and soon your breasts, "i see you, and i feel like a new man."

"i'll always love you, simon riley."

"and i will love you." he replied as he slowly took your shirt off of your body. he admired the softness of your breasts. you were so curvy and soft in many ways. he thought it was beautiful.

"are you sure you want to do this?" you asked as you reached for his face and held it in your hands, "i know homecoming can be tough."

he nodded, "of course. i want to feel close to you."

you nodded and let go of his face and started to work towards getting your bra off. he watched with a keen eye, you were divine. he was a worshiper of the beauty of your body.

he always thought men who wanted the smaller girls were weak. a real man wanted a woman who looked beautiful in all her curves. he licked his lips at the sight, "beautiful."

you blushed, "oh shut up, simon. this bra is stained as hell."

he cupped your breasts once you got your bra off and leaned in for a deeper kiss. he said simply, "i don't care, you're beautiful." then played with them, massaging them in his larger hands as his lips pressed against yours. he was starting to feel hot all over.

he wanted his love. his inferno, his sun, his angel. like a man begging for salvation, he begged to lay you out on the bed and show you the pleasure you two had been missing for some time.

you moaned into this kiss and later broke it to get fully undressed. he watched you as he got his own clothes off and soon you were both naked on the bed together. he got between your legs and admired your body.

he licked his lips and met your gaze. one hand on your hips, the other on your cock as he rubbed his length up against your slit. the room felt hotter than when he first entered it. the blood flow had long left his head and was now solely in his painfully hard cock.

"are you sure?"

he nodded, "certain." then slowly slid his cock into you. the breath left his lungs as he bottomed out into you and soon held onto your hips with both hands. his pace was slowly, he wanted to admire every inch of you. every noise your made, the way your nose scrunched up when it felt especially good.

his eyes raked your body as he began to move at a steady pace. he wasn't bouncing you on his dick, but it was consistent enough that pleasure ran through you.

your pulse was quick and your skin was hot as the two of you made love. it wasn't fucking, it was making love. two people came together to make something beautiful.

he went back to kissing you, he was bent over you as he thrusted his hips. your sweet noises was muffled by his tongue in your mouth. the kiss was the most aggressive part of his movements against you. he wanted to make sure that his love was taken care of.

he just adored you. his sunlight between the leaves. the comfort of home, the safety of being loved. his cheeks were rosy, the sweat drew down his back.

your back arched a little as the pleasure melted in your core. your nails dug into the pillow under your head. he parted the kiss and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck.

"you're beautiful."

"you're not too bad yourself." you whimpered.

he curled further over you, he leveled your hips up a little bit to hit your core at the right angle. he panted as he continued to thrust into you. the air of your bedroom was hot as the sun beamed through the big windows.

"please, simon." you moaned.

"my sweet." he replied as he picked up the pace a little.

pleasure mounted between the two of you. he kissed you once more as he gave a few more thrusts and finished. you moaned into the kiss as you clenched around his cock and came as well. the heat stung your cheeks as you climaxed. you held onto the pillows tightly as you hit your peak then relaxed once more.

simon broke the kiss and looked down at you with nothing but sheer affection. he let go of your hips and rested on his heels, his cock slipped out of you and rested against his thigh. he wiped the sweat from his brow once more.

"still beautiful."

you panted and looked at him with hooded eyes, "not as beautiful as you." you then laughed sleepily as he got back to your side on the bed and curled you up in his arms. you melted into his touch as he kissed at your hairline.

"i'm happy to be home."

"i am too, simon." you looked into his eyes, brown like fresh coffee but they lit up when they were locked onto you, you cupped his face and smiled, "i love you."

he kissed you once more on the lips and replied, "i love you. now and forever." <3

[thisismeracing]

Charles + gamer + mild angst /fluff

Gamer | CL16

⸺ the one where he's been gaming too much with his friends and neglects his girlfriend for a beat. ✓ mentions of food.

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

He wasn't a gamer. He was an F1 pilot. That's why it did not make any sense for Yn the amount of time Charles had been spending playing with his friends. And don't get her wrong, she did support him in everything and wanted Charles to bond with his friends, but the thing was he's been neglecting her in the process.

She tried talking with him, but he brushed it off not even taking his eyes off the screen, and that's how Yn found herself with Charles would call "an attitude", going around her day ignoring him. She went as far as cooking dinner without calling him to eat or saving him a plate.

She wanted him to feel the way she was.

"Amour, did you have dinner already?" Charles asked confused once his match was over, tonight he was playing some kind of fight game with Lando. Both streaming too.

Yn kept her eyes on the movie playing on the TV, not bothering to look his way, but Charles tried again, "Chérie, what happened?" he walked to the living room stopping right in front of her.

Yn sighed.

"Are you finally done with your game? I'm sorry but I can't talk right now, mon ange, I'm watching this movie...all by myself," she retorted hinting exactly at the problem.

The Leclerc cleared his throat a bit ashamed of himself finally realizing what he did to his girlfriend.

"Love, I'm sorry, I- I lost track of time, and I've been a terrible boyfriend. You deserve better and I'll start giving you better, I promise. Just, please, forgive me, and look at me," he apologized while pleading, now kneeling between her legs. He held her face between his hands, "I love you," he whispered when her eyes finally found his. "Can I get a kiss?"

"You don't deserve it," she answered, but the ghosting of a smile gave away that she was considering his apologies.

"Not even if I get you your favorite dessert? You didn't have dessert without me, did you?" he arches his brows.

"Well, you're starting to drive a hard bargain, Charlie."

"I'm the best of the grid, you know," he jokes.

"Now you're getting cocky," she laughs.

"If it makes you laugh I can be whatever you want, Yn," now his eyes were trained on her lips and he finally killed the space, tasting her lips and sealing a promise of doing better from now on.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you liked it *mwah* <3 make sure lmk your thoughts, guys!

[moonlit-rose-garden]

Moving on

Nick Valentine x reader

Word count: 1,655

This takes place about 2 years after the events of Fallout 4 and 1 year after finishing Nick's Eddie Winter quest line. The sole survivor (you) have been living predominantly in Diamond City, helping Nick with his cases.

It was raining outside. Almost no one was in the streets of the Great Green Jewel due to it. A off day, you could say. Most people were able to stay home and relax.

Days like this made (Y-n) almost forget that just outside the walls was a wasteland full of creatures itching to kill.

(Y-n) sat at an old metal desk with her head in her arms, listening to the radio playing. Nick walked in from outside, water dripping off the brim of his hat. He quickly shed his wet coat and hat and then began to make his way to his desk.

Stopping at the desk where (Y-n) sat, Nick revealed a bowl he brought in with him. “You've been working too hard. You need to eat.“ He said as he set the bowl in front of her and took a seat in the chair facing the front of the desk.

(Y-n) slowly raised her head to look at Nick, some of her hair falling in front of her face. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. He opted for smoking instead. (Y-n) watched as he tried lighting a cigarette a few times before succeeding. He sat back in the chair with his sleeves rolled up, relaxed for once.

“I think this is the most relaxed I've ever seen you, Nick.“ (Y-n) smiled as she grabbed the bowl of noodles and began to eat. “Thanks.“ Nick waved her off. “It's no problem.“ (Y-n) chuckles to herself. “This reminds me of late nights at the law office I used to work at. Someone would bring takeout, and we'd all sit and work. Or we'd just talk.“

Nick was quiet for a moment. “We used to do the same at the police department when we worked late.“ “Too bad we never got to meet back then. We'd have been great friends, I think.“ They both laughed lightly.

“Look at the two of us. Still stuck in a world long gone.“ Nick chuckled. (Y-n) thought about it for a moment. She pushed the noodles aside and propped her head up with her hand. “Honestly... I think I've moved on.. I mean, it still hurts to think about, and I will always miss Nate. But, I think it's getting better.“

Nick stared at her, his yellow eyes fixated on her face. “I never thought I'd say this. But me too. For so long, I held on to the feelings of a life I never physically lived. After everything with Eddie and a year to think about it...“ He leaned forward on the desk.“well I guess I should thank you.“ He finished. (Y-n) smiled warmly at Nick. “I'm glad we found each other. I couldn't have done any of this without you.“ She reached out over the desk, taking his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of me, Nick. You're a good man”

Nick stared at his hand in hers. It made him comfortable and warm. A feeling he hadn't felt for a long time. He glanced away and laughed. “Well that's what I'm here for. Detective Nick Valentine at your service.“ (Y-n) took her hand way. Immediately missing the feeling of his. She gazed at her hand.

It made her feel a bit guilty. Sure, it had been around 80 years since Nate passed, only 2 to her, but she still loved him. She'd always love him, but he's gone. She can't hold onto a ghost forever.. (Y-n) looked up and caught Nick staring at her with an unreadable expression. He quickly looks away quickly, pretending to read a file sitting on the desk.

(Y-n) looked way. She had a good guess why he was staring. They were both adults. She wasn't going to pretend that she didn't notice the things he did for her and how often he'd watch her. She was sure he had noticed how she smiled at him and how her hand would linger on his arm longer than it had to.

“Nick, do you still think of her?“ (Y-n) asked softly. Nick paused for a moment. “I do. But it's like you and Nate. She's long gone. Besides, she was never mine to begin with.“ He looks at (Y-n) with a small smile. “You helped me move on. Move on from that old life and start living my own." (Y-n) smiled. “I'm glad.“

The room was silent for a long while, and only the sound of the rain and the radio could be heard. Occasionally, the sound of papers shuffling would interrupt the comfortable silence.

“Oh, I should get back before it's too late. I still need to feed Dogmeat!“ (Y-n) said as she stood. Nick followed and put his coat and hat on. Then handed (Y-n) her coat and hat. “Thanks. Are you coming with?“ He nodded. “Yeah, I'll walk you home. “

The air outside was cold, and the rain came down in a drizzle. Nick, seeing (Y-n) shake in the cold, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Though he didn't add any warmth, the gesture made a blush creep up (Y-n) neck.

Slowly, she snaked an arm around his waist. (Y-n) looked at Nick in her peripheral vision. This talk helped her come to a decision about something she had been agonizing over for the past year. She loved Nick, and she was sure that, to some extent, he cared for her, too. But in what way? Looking forward again, (Y-n) tried to fight the anxious feeling bubbling up and the blush that came with it.

Nick felt conflicted. He liked the way she held onto him. He liked her company, he liked her. Nick knew he loved (Y-n). His mind felt scrambled and loud despite the quiet environment. The only sound was the rain and their shoes landing in puddles. He looked down, focused on the ground before them as they walked.

“Well, this is me...“ (Y-n) said as she let go of Nick and slid out of his hold. She pressed her lips in a line and awkwardly searched her pockets for her key. Nick watched her with a small smile. She was always so beautiful to him. But he never even dared entertaining the thought of romance. Not with how he looked, with what he was.

(Y-n) unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I'll see you tomorrow, Nick. Get some-” Before she could finish her sentence, a crack of thunder sounded with lighting not too far behind, and the rain started pouring. Taking one look at the sky and rain (Y-n) ushered Nick into her home. She slammed the door and locked it, letting out a sigh.

They both took off their wet coats and hats, hanging them on the coat hanger near the door. “Come on in! Just leave your shoes at the door.“ (Y-n) said, walking further into the house. Nick took a moment to look around. He realised the last time he'd been here was when (Y-n) first bought it. Almost a year ago. “I like what you've done with the place. Cozy. Tell me, how is it you're only now inviting me over?“ He said as he followed her into a little living room area.

“Well, I guess I never thought about it. I feel like I spend more time at the detective agency than in any of my homes.“ (Y-n) smiled and took a seat on a couch. She gestured for Nick to do the same, which he did.

A moment of silence passed between them. A false silence. Their heads both buzzing and loud. Nick thought he was fine working with her and admiring from a far, but now sitting with (Y-n) after coming getting off work... It almost felt like they were a couple. He hated himself for feeling this way. For how flustered he was.

Nick looked over at (Y-n). Her hands were clenched together in her lap, and she had this strange look on her face. “Hey, you alright?“ She glanced at him with an uneasy smile “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just got something on my mind.“ Nick turned to face her fully. “What's troubling you? Maybe I can help.“

(Y-n) was silent for a short moment. “You're good to me, Nick. Thank you.“ Nick watched her intently. She looked at him in his glowing eyes. Maybe the storm happened for a reason. It gave her a chance to come clean and tell him how she really feels. “I care about you. A lot.“ (Y-n) looked away. “Sorry if this is weird. I just feel like I've got to say something.“

Putting a hand on her back, Nick inched closer to her. “It's alright. Just. Just tell me what it is.“ Nick had a feeling where it was going but pushed it away. He felt foolish for even entertaining the idea. (Y-n) took a deep breath and looked at Nick again, slightly leaning towards him.

“Do you care about me? The way I care about you?“ Nick was speechless. He just stared at her with a blank face. “I love you, Nick. And I have for a while..“ (Y-n) gazed at him with hopeful, loving eyes. Slowly, he raised a hand to her cheek and caressed her face. (Y-n) leaned into his gentle touch.

“This all feels like a dream...“ Nick whispered. He leaned forward and captured (Y-n) into a hug. “I do... I love you, too..“

They pulled apart, and (Y-n) held Nick's face gently. She inched closer before closing the gap between them, her warm lips meeting his cool ones.

(Y-n) quickly pulled away “I-I I'm sorry! I-I should have asked!“ Nick just grabbed her face, pulling her back towards him and kissing her, a bit harder this time. (Y-n) smiled into the kiss and threw her arms around his neck.

She knew that, finally, happy days were just around the corner.

I'm sorry if he's super out of character! It's been so incredibly long since I played this game! I hope it was still a good read. I do feel like the ending is missing something, though.

Like what you see and want to show some support with more than a comment? Buy me a coffee!

Ko-fi.com/moonlitrosegarden

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah

~7.2k words - MDNI

Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. She’s shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that it’s Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think it’s a very pretty name, and that you hope you’re not pulling her away from anything more important.

“I’ve been tidyin’ your room, highness,” she says turning even pinker. “Or, um, tryin’ to. You leave things so neat there’s been nothin’ for me to be doin’.”

“I’m used to living on my own,” you explain. “I’ve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.”

“On your own?” Tiphanie asks, aghast. “But your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so they’d help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyin’ in on his gryphon and rescued you.”

Is that how they’ve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. “Oh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.”

“Well, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasn’t travellin’ through the wastes and fightin’ monsters lookin’ for you?” she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair you’ve let down, like she’s not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. “He’s been gone three years, and then he came back with you— If you’re tryin’ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what you’re sayin’ don’t make any sense. You wouldn’t’ve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.”

It’s a bit funny that she’s so insistent that it makes more sense that you’d been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, it’s certainly the more compelling story. “Well, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,” you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. “I only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.”

“I knew—” she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.

You glance over, and it’s just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. “Thank you for your help, Tiphanie,” you say, smiling at her reassuringly. “I should say hello to Nox.”

She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.

“Hello, my darling,” you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday, pretty girl.”

If she's offended by your negligence, she doesn’t hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.

“Sweetpea, we’re down ‘ere, whenever you’re ready,” Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadn’t noticed before. “Nox’ll ‘op down with you.”

“One second,” you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once you’re settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.

Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a child’s toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Nox’s wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true raven’s tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like there’s a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.

You wonder if she’s lonely, being the only one here.

Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs don’t fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.

“There you are,” John says soothingly. “You want some tea, love?”

You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. You’re not certain your legs will hold you.

“Nox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to ‘op down! What if you’d dropped ‘er, eh? You’d be feelin’ pretty sorry about it now, wouldn’t you?” Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. “Oi! Don’t you sass me, you daft bird, she wun’t even buckled in.”

Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her cat’s eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.

Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. “John,” you say sternly, twisting to look at him. “Did we not talk about this?”

“I don’t believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."

“Did someone say something to you?” John asks.

You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. “Tiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didn’t say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that I’ll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?”

Ghost shrugged. “Told you already. Was keepin’ an eye on you.”

“For three years?”

“Started off just droppin’ by, but figured it’d be better to stick around. Was.” He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. “Din’t ‘ave nothin’ better to be doin’.”

“You did, actually,” John says tiredly. “You were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.”

“An’ ‘e’s a sight better at the job than I’d’ve been,” Ghost replies. “Did you a favour, din’t I?”

“Wouldn’t’ve found Sweetpea without him either,” Kyle points out. “And Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.”

You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.

If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if he’s careful to make no further waves.

You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. You’ll do a better job of seizing that freedom this time— you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. You’ve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he might— Oh. Of course.

It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.

“Was there something that you all needed from me?” you ask stiffly. “Or can I go?”

“You need to eat something, first off,” John says, squeezing your hip lightly. “Then down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.”

“When I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,” you point out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“I’d allow that, if you’ll stick close to me.” John’s voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.

You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. “I will not.”

He laughs. “Then Farah it is. You’re angry with three of us, and I don’t trust Ghost alone with you.”

“What did I do?” Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.

You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, you’ll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.

“We can move our little lesson to this afternoon,” Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. “And I’d like to join you this morning too. It’s been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.”

“Why not head there now?” John asks. “Get a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if she’s up for a proper flight.”

Kyle gets up without objection. “Yes sir. I’ll see you there, Sweetpea.” His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.

You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push John’s arms away roughly, taking Kyle’s abandoned seat rather than remain in John’s lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.

You regret kissing him. You hate that he’s handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that there’s so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that there’s a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know it’s no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.

Hateful man.

You feel a little better once you’re sitting in Nox’s saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, it’s certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.

This time you’re better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesn’t remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.

The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didn’t have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.

Simon touches the back of your hands, where they’re clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if you’re right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmith’s quiet apprentice, if he’s the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.

Maybe, if he is (and you’re nearly certain of it), he’ll come with you, when you leave once more. You’re afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John… Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. There’s no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.

Just one more day. You’ll be glad to leave this behind, won’t you? It’s not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.

There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while you’re still working on the first.

He lifts you clear of Nox’s saddle, and the closest shop door opens. “Princess!” Kyle’s sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. She’s as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. “Goodness, it’s been years. How have you been?”

“Well,” you say. “Life outside the city has been good to me.”

“I see that. I was so glad to see that you’d gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.” She pulls back and cups your face fondly. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that you’re well.”

Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadn’t expected a greeting like this, after so long. “I hadn’t realized— I mean, my father—”

Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. “Did you think we counted you party to your father’s crimes? No, princess. You’ve always been loved. There isn’t a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isn’t glad to know you’re safe and hale.”

Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadn’t even considered that the people would be disappointed that you aren’t planning to stay. It’s one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing you’ll make a speech over it tomorrow.

“Come on, in we go,” Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. “Keep a look out, hey Nox?” The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.

There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too stark— You would have chosen a more subtle accent— but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.

Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.

The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."

"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. “It’s been too long.”

“Hardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.”

“Times are good now,” Kyle replies.

“Hm.”

You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. “Hold still, my lady,” she chides. “We’ll just be another moment.”

Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. She’s small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunter’s lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. She’s dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. “Princess,” she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. “I am Farah Karim. I’ve been told you have need of me.”

“John insists that I’m not safe without a sword-wielding escort,” you say wryly. “I disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.”

“Could be assassins lurking about, my lady,” Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. “We would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.”

You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You see what I’m dealing with?” you ask. “Everyone thinks I’m in terrible danger.”

“The danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.”

You tip your head to the side. “No love for our neighbours, Commander?”

Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. “No. My father’s lands are close to the border. I’ve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.”

“I suppose it’s naivete to think the peace can last.”

“No. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.” The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?

“You don’t see minding me as beneath you?” you ask. “You lead a company of soldiers.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “My fighters are in good hands. Besides, I’m curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.”

“I’d like that,” you admit.

Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When you’re finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.

"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.

"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."

"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."

Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. “Just us girls, hey Nox?” you croon.

She churrs in response.

“The beast likes you,” Farah says approvingly. “Gryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless they’re hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.”

“Yours too?” you ask.

Farah laughs, shaking her head. “I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

“At least someone around here does,” you grouse.

“Price?” she asks, raising her thick brows. “Do you want me to speak with him?”

“I don’t think there’s much point. This will all be over soon enough.”

Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. “It doesn’t give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.”

“Really? I thought you were one of John’s people.”

“He may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,” Farah says, and there’s something in her tone that tells you that she’s had to remind John of this fact more than once. “If I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.”

“Just like that?”

“I have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.”

Your stomach twists again. You’re beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital that’s been missing for too long. Maybe things aren’t going as well as you had thought— You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This can’t be the case for the whole kingdom.

Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If there’s something that’s been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once you’d made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that you’d be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.

On to better things, as John had said.

Maybe there’s a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. You’re sure he’d be happy for an excuse to keep you close.

But then again, maybe not. It’s a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once you’ve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.

John is nothing if not pragmatic. You’ll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.

And that’s good. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where you’re from, and everything to do with where you’re going next?

“How did you become a mercenary?” you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.

“My father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.” She gives you a wry smile. “My parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“Once in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasn’t found another. That he’s still open to the match.” She rolls her eyes. “I think if he hasn’t been able to find a wife in all this time, there’s a reason for it.”

You laugh lightly. She has a good point.

By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like you’re fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.

Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.

By the time you reach the workshop door, you’re a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than you’d like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and you’ve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.

“Isna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!” Soap’s heated voice seeps through the door. Kyle’s response is too low to make out, but Soap’s next words are clear. “She deserves better! Been nothin’ but kind to us.”

“She’ll get over it, Soap. You know it’s for the best.”

“The best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if it’s best for her.”

You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that it’s wrong to do so. It’s not difficult to surmise that they’re talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnny’s face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything you’ve said you want. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later however— He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.

The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyle’s response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.

“Hello, Sweetpea.” Kyle greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?” He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.

“I did. I read through the first three chapters— I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? I’m familiar enough with the bare basics, and if I’m only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.” You reach out to brush Soap’s shoulder as he moves past you. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course, bonnie,” Soap says. “I’m always at yer service.”

“If you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.”

“Aye, could be helpful there. Go’ a nose for these things.” He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you don’t seem angry with him for yesterday. “We’ll talk later, then.”

You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. “Dispelling magic could be a good place to start… How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.

“I think I might— I get this prickle when there’s magic around. I can’t say I always notice it, but I haven’t always thought to pay attention.” You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once you’re fully inside it. “I’ve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.”

“And a new environment.” Kyle says. “It’s easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. You’ll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.”

“I hope so. I get all tingly whenever we’re in a room together,” you say, laughing lightly.

He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. “You sure that’s just the magic?” he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. “It could be something else.”

“Could it?” You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. You’ve gotten a little weary of the flirting— It’s more John’s fault than it is his, admittedly, but you’re just tired of all the attention. You don’t want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. “Or do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?”

“Could be that,” he agrees, unperturbed. “But no matter. Lets get to work.”

He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.

He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. “It will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,” he explains. “Knowing what’s going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.”

The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. “Fire,” you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. It’s cool, and drips down your spine. “Water?”

“Good. This one should be a bit trickier.”

It’s not. You’re familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. “Light.”

He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and you’re both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. “You have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldn’t see your talent— I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Let’s see… We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.”

You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks you’re doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you don’t notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. You’re too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips… You’ve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

It’s a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but he’s misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.

Knowing what it is, it’s easy to see how to unravel it, but you don’t really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. “It’s a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didn’t mean— You don’t really want to kiss me.” His fingers curl around your neck, like he’s fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.

“Yes I do,” you say. “I just want to blame it on the spell.”

“Prove it,” he says.

It’s as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldn’t be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you say softly.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. “Kyle—”

“Hells,” he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he won’t lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.

You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.

It would be easy to kiss Kyle forever— He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he won’t push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.

It’s several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. “Princess,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “I need to tell you something.”

There’s a soft chime from his desk, and John’s voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been, hands tightening on your hips.

“Gaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?”

Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like you’re the one that’s done something wrong. “Um. Yes sir.”

“Good. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if you’d like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe she’s gone to your room to wait for you.”John’s voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. “Gaz, I’d like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. It’s up to him.”

“Yes sir. We’ll be down in a minute.” The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. “Old man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. We’d better get to it.”

He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."

"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going to—"

"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.

"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"

Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."

"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."

"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."

"Would you have done things differently if she had?"

"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."

Kyle seems to have to response to that. He’s quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.

It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. There’s love there too, and real trust.

Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.

Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[your-soup-overlord]

Another Tiny look into It's My Party (And I'll Cry If I Want To), from the first chapter! I've been jumping around in where im writing, but the first official chapter is just about finished.

Shoutout to @dcxdpdabbles too, their oneshot called Magic Older Brother since they gave me the idea to place this during Tim's birthday and inspired the first part!

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The rain was pelting on him as he walked, the fog starting to get tick and heavy. Danny was just with his parents, walking from the parking lot to the ghost convention they dragged him along to. Jazz was at home, her friends letting her sleep over for the trip, but Danny was 5 and his parents didn’t trust anyone to watch him. So, they packed up his bags and dragged him along.

Now, though, his parents had run off and left him alone on the sidewalk. Danny thought he knew where he was going, his parents ran off in a straight direction, but he hadn’t reached the convention center yet. He has seen no ghosts, and now the sun was starting to set as well.

As it got darker, the shadows seemed to twist and turn. He was too scared to go down the dark paths, unsure of what could be in that darkness, so he followed the light.

As he kept walking, Danny eventually wandered into a neighborhood filled with mansions. They seemed to tower over him as he kept walking. Most of the lights were turned off, but there was this one he saw in the distance. Deciding to trying his luck, Danny walked up to the house to knock on the door. He knew he shouldn’t talk to strangers, but at this point he was soaking and cold, and it was so dark outside now.

Knocking on the door, Danny stood back and turned to peer through the windows to see anyone coming. As he stood on his toes to try and see inside more, the door swung open to reveal a kid bigger than him! He smiled up at him, glad to see another kid instead of an adult.

“Hi, I’m Tim!” the big kid began, “Are you here for the party! Did you see the signs outside! It’s my birthday party!” He said as he bounced up and down on his toes.

“Really?” Danny asked, Tim’s excitement infecting him. “That’s so cool! I’m Danny! I’d love to come in but I got soaked by the rain, and I don’t want to get you and your floors all wet.”

Tim held out his hand, “That’s ok! You’re the first to show up, so I’m sure we can get you some clothes before anyone else comes! I’ll have to get you some of mine though, my parents are away and I don’t know what happened to my old clothes.”

Danny grabbed his hand, getting pulled in by Tim. “Thank you!” Danny smiled. As Tim pulled him along and through the halls, Danny couldn’t help but be sad for him. This big kid was so happy, but he didn’t seem to have a Jazz to spend his birthday with like Danny did! That was unacceptable, Danny decided once Tim sat him down by his bed and began pulling out clothes for him, shooting him a bright smile as he gave Danny the clothes. As Tim pointed him to the bathroom and he began changing, putting on the big shirt and shorts he was lent, Danny knew what he had to do. Yes, he would be his Jazz! And he would be the best Jazz ever and help Tim have the best birthday ever!

[ssadumba55]

More Jack Skellington and Ghost Child! Reader

Request: Another jack Skellington father figure headcanons please

A/N: Continuing the canon that was established here

One of your little found family's favourite things to do together was read a book at night. It was the only thing that could guarantee everyday to pull Jack from his planning from next Halloween.

The bedtime routine had become your favourite, even though you didn't really need sleep. It was a mere formality seeing as you were literally dead.

Sally would help you pick out a book from the many shelves Jack had, a lot of them were gruesome but that's what comes from living in Halloweentown.

You always made yourself corporeal for this, snuggling up beside Sally on the bed and waiting for Jack to join. And he always did too, he was never late.

Sitting between the two adult ghouls, you flipped the pages while they read the words. Reading had never been a skill you'd picked up on before, but you liked listening to them read, feeling the warmth of them on either side of you. Which was funny seeing as none of you were actually alive so there should be no warmth.

And even though you really didn't need sleep, the routine always ended with you falling asleep, being tucked in by Jack and Sally and affectionate tucking in taking place

That was the best part of having a corporeal body, you could feel the warmth of the blanket and the gentle strokes of comfort from your adoptive parents

"Can I hold your hand?" You asked nervously

You and Jack had agreed to go on a special mission for Sally, she needed things for making her special brews and for other hobbies she took part in. She had said it was a good way to get Jack out of the house.

Jack looked down at you, your nervous form flickered between the usual transparent to the corporeal form. You had never liked the hustle and bustle of the main part of Halloweentown.

He held his hand out for you to grasp, and you did. It always struck him when he held your hand how small it was compared to his. Your small child hands looked even smaller in his bony fingers.

"You sure you're going to be alright?" He gently prodded. He had promised if you didn't feel up to it, the two of you could always try again another day.

"Yeah, I'll be fine dad."

If he had a heart, it would've surely skipped a beat at those words. Being called dad was not something he ever thought would make him feel so proud. It was a greater accomplishment even than his Halloweens.

"I know you will."

"Fetch Zero!" You tossed one of Jack's bones down the graveyard for the ghost dog to catch.

He barked excitedly as he floated as fast as he could to catch it, bringing it back in record speed. You tossed it again, this time harder and further.

The dog scurried off to retrieve the bone and you waited for him to return. It was strange to be here after staying at Jack's home for so long. You didn't miss being all alone out here, but sometimes you did miss the simplicity of it.

You were lifted into the air before you could dwell on the thoughts further, Jack had snuck up behind you and he set you on his shoulders. There was nothing better than being "on top of the world".

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

"Zero wanted to play fetch." As you said this, the dog in question raced back bone in mouth and Jack took it from him, connecting it to himself once more.

"It's time to come inside, your bedtime routine starts soon."

You kicked your legs in contentment as he walked back up the path to Halloweentown. Zero zoomed around at Jack's feet, following the two of you home.

You glanced back at the graveyard, one might think it was longingly but in reality, you didn't miss it as much as you thought.

[icarustypicalfall]

cara mia

ALEJANDRO VARGAS X F!READER

inspired by the glorious lovers, Gomez and Morticia.

a request that i hope will succeed to mend every heart i broke because of certain angst

summary: you can't love someone more than yourself and live everyday as if it's the last.. well, certainly not according to you and your lover

warnings: none, sfw, pure fluff <3

note: im not that good at writing romance.. im an angst person but yeah that was really entertaining, doing some research and planning 🤭 tysm for your request anon, I'd love hearing from you again, tell me what you think 🫶🏻

"I've finally found you, now my life tastes sweet like cinnamon"

"I think they truly love each other, but I'm not entirely sure," Rudy chuckled at Soap's comment as they observed Alejandro and his lover, you, dancing on the crowded dance floor.

Throughout the night, you danced, kissed, and flirted, seemingly inseparable.

Los Vaqueros had organized a party to celebrate their latest mission after the tank operation. It was an ideal opportunity for Alejandro to introduce you to his brothers and new allies: Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Captain Price.

The evening had started as a simple get-together, but it quickly turned into a display of intense flirting and hours of dancing and drinks.

Rudy would often joke that Alejandro seemed to forget everyone else when he was with you. He was even distracted at the shooting range, nearly shooting one of his own men when he caught a glimpse of you passing by.

The men sitting at the table laughed, sipping their beers while keeping an eye on the couple swaying on the dance floor. "I can't believe this is the same man I used to work with. He is completely smitten with her," Rudy laughed heartily, clearly becoming more and more tipsy.

Shaking his head, he smiled. "No hermano, Alejandro and _ are not whipped. They simply love each other. They've had this connection ever since they met."

You had met Alejandro years ago, during a time when you both had to work together amidst the scandalous movements of the cartel. After a period of dating, he proposed, and within a year, you were married. Though Alejandro had some flaws, such as anger issues and work addiction, he never let that affect your relationship. Any disagreement or argument would swiftly be resolved with passionate apologies shared behind closed doors. Some never started believing in soulmates till they witnessed the Colonel and his wife dancing bachata at 2 am.

To Alejandro, you were a delicate flower, even with your own strong-willed nature. He took pleasure in watching you bark orders to incompetent recruits.

When some of his men playfully asked him whether he'll choose you over eternity.. well of course he chose you. Because, quoting him: "how could I choose a life where you are not by my side, cara mia? I'd consider it as hell itself. For me, amor, I'd rather hold you for a brief moment over any eternities."

You, on the other side, proudly showcased your love for him. The bond you shared was powerful and seemingly magical. Together, you lived for the moment, sucking the joy of life and spating out the sorrow. There wasn't any words that could describe how you feel about him.

Crazy? maybe. Deeply in love? Absolutely.

Taking a break from dancing, you volunteered to get drinks, and Alejandro made his way back to the table. A broad smile adorned his face as he glanced at you, seated closely to him, holding onto his arm. You smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he kissed your forehead and kept a protective arm around your waist.

Captain Price chuckled and patted Alejandro's back, remarking, "Well son, you never told us you were married. Rudy mentioned it before he passed out."

You glanced at Alejandro, resting your elbow on the table, cheek supported by your palm, wearing a playful smirk.

"Is that so? He didn't mention me even once? Must have been pretty busy, right, amor?"

Alejandro held your hand, gently squeezing it within his calloused palm and placing soft kisses on your fingertips.

"Just because I didn't talk about you doesn't mean you weren't on my mind, Querida. You reside there constantly, occupying every thought of mine."

"That was cheesy, Alejandro. Eres increíble!" you teased, his eyes seemed to flicker like stars shining in his dark brown orbs. He drew closer to you, his smile wide.

"You really shouldn't speak Spanish to me, amor. You know it drives me mad."

"I'd absolutely love seeing you mad, Hermoso."

The men around the table followed your conversation, enraptured by this side of Alejandro.He was unafraid to show you off, proud of your relationship and unapologetic about his love for you. In fact, if he was to be called out for loving you this much, he'd proudly wear the title. He cherished you deeply, and you had no worries about the cartel using you against him. They knew not to cross that line, for you were a protected and treasured part of Alejandro's life. God help the ones who tried to cross it, let some peace fall upon their limp bodies.

After a long night, it was almost four in the morning when you and Alejandro reached your home. In the blue hour, you both would often take a moment to witness the captivating beauty of nature while wrapped in each other's arms.

Alejandro gently tilted your chin, meeting your gaze with a smile as he whispered slurred words into your ear.

"Do you remember our honeymoon, darling?"

"Which one, amor? Every day with you feels like a honeymoon, and you're definitely giving me a sweet tooth."

"..The night after we got married," he reminisced. "When everyone had left, leaving only you and me. We sat on the balcony, with the cold wind weaving through our hair. I held you close as the sun rose."

A slight smile formed on your lips as you relived the memory. Your fingertips lingered on the burning flesh of his cheek. Closing your eyes, his words sank in the depth of your mind.

"Do you ever realize you become a poet when you're drunk?"

"Just for you, amor, I'll be anything you want, if you wanted me to get you the stars, I'll collect every piece of them, even if i died trying. But if you wanted to shove me away, I'll stick with you for eternity and beyond. You're too precious for me, cara mia"

His hand found yours, in slow movements and dizzy stares, he squeezed your palm. As if the simple mouvement was a promise, a vow for you.

"I want to recreate that moment tonight," Alejandro murmured, his voice filled with warmth and love. "Let's stay up until the sun rises again, and we can relive our love story once more."

You nodded, anticipation gleaming in your eyes. Hand in hand, you made your way to the balcony, watching as the sky transformed from dark to a palette of soft hues. Wrapped in each other's arms, you whispered sweet nothings, promising to love, support, and protect one another until the end of time.

This kind of love that almost felt irreal, you shared a deep mutual connection that none could explain, and neither of you tried.

If anything, you just loved each other. You digged and bathed in the joy, forgetting the sorrow. Was this a blessing of life, an apology for the misery your souls endured during lifetimes?

Or were you simply lucky enough of to find the missing piece of your heart?

For the matter, you both knew that this love was enough to mend your hearts, over and over again.

As the first rays of sunlight kissed your skin, Alejandro leaned in and whispered against your lips.

"Te amo, mi vida. Forever and always."

"Te amo también, mi amor. Nada ni nadie nos separará."

(can i marry him please? i stg he's perfect. sorry if it's not accurate or not what you expected. ily all 🫶🏻❤️)

[glitterforashes]

hi, i was curious if you could do sally face character w someone who plays the bass (guitar) it can be platonic and gender neutral if you want. feel free to ignore and dont forget to take care of yourself (sorry if im not doing this right, its the first time i've made a request)

𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

>>> thank you to @flo0werry for requesting! i am so honored to be your first request experience. i am very sorry for taking so long to get to this, had to have a break from social media for a while! that being said, my writing is probably very bad and rusty so not too much on me please. 🙏🏼 mainly fluff and giggles, gender neutral reader, platonic-ish (?). hope you enjoy!

sally was a quiet, odd little dude and everyone knew it. he didn’t have many hobbies besides playing video games and ghost hunting, but when he met (y/n), that changed. they were like the modern day stevie nicks to everyone in the apartments, known to carry their base strapped across their back at all times. he avoided them for a while, not knowing what to say to spark up conversation, but that changed when fate brought them together in the way of getting them stuck in the rusty old elevator.

“well this blows.” (y/n) said, slumping down into a seated position against the wall, which was probably the most unsanitary thing they had done all day. sally nodded slightly in agreement, stealing a quick glance at them from the corner of his eye. “so what’s your deal?” they asked, looking up at him from their spot on the floor. sally’s face flushed behind his mask and he turned to face them as they said, “you talk or what?” he looked down at his shoes and moved his hands behind his back, tucking them between the wall and his bum. “uh, yeah. yeah i talk. my names sally.”

“cool. i’m (y/n).” they reached behind their back, took off their guitar, propped it up between their folded legs and started to fiddle with the tuning pegs. “i know.” they paused briefly, as if shocked, before going back to what they had been doing. “you know? you some kind of stalker or something?” sally’s face fell, his eyes going wide. “what? no! no, i’m not a stalker. just, everyone knows you here. you’re kinda hard to miss when you’ve got that thing poking out of your back all the time.” he pointed to their base.

“oh, this ‘ol thing? yeah, guess you’re right. her name’s daisy.” sally blinked. “you named the guitar?” (y/n) turned their head up to him and grinned, raising an eyebrow. “do the things you love not have names?” sally didn’t respond, only slid down next to them and tucked his knees close to his chest. “you play?” they asked, strumming their fingers over the freshly tuned strings and nodding in approval at the sound. “no.” he said, scooting towards the corner nearest to him to give them and ‘daisy’ some room. “wanna learn?” he was silent for a few moments, feeling (y/n)’s stare on him. he might never get the opportunity to talk to them again if he turned this down, so.. “sure.” he muttered, scooting back as (y/n) lifted daisy and handed her to him. “i know all the strings.” he said as he took the guitar, holding it awkwardly like it would explode.

“why’re you holdin’ it like that? she’s not gonna bite you. here,” (y/n) gently grabbed his arms and adjusted his hold, placing his fingers on the b and a strings. “i’ve just never held something so expensive before.” he said. (y/n) laughed and moved so they would be sitting in front of him, optimum placement for teaching. “we’ll start you off with something easy, yeah?”

(y/n) and sally spent close to thirty minutes learning the opening to a song (y/n) loved, sally impressing them with his knowledge of rhythm and pace. “that’s so sick, man. start from the beginning.” they said, scooting back a little to observe him. sally strummed all the strings once, twice, before breaking out into the music, playing each chord perfectly. (y/n) was grinning like an idiot when they picked up the chorus, starting to sing the words. their voice was raspy and smooth and edged and feminine all at the same time and it made sally feel ways he didn’t know were possible. (y/n) was watching his hands but he was watching them, the smile on their face as they sang like it was the only thing they knew how to do. (y/n) didn’t even notice when he started playing past the part they’d taught him, too lost in the song to care.

just as the song came to an end, the elevator doors dragged apart loudly, making an awful screeching and groaning sound. “oh, hey man.” a male voice said from behind them. (y/n) turned around to see larry the rocker boy and lisa the maintenance lady standing in the doorway, larry with a crap-eating grin and lisa with a doe-like expression on her face. “hey.” sally stood up from the floor with daisy still cradled in his arms as lisa started apologizing about the inconvenience, saying how the elevator was such a piece of rusty old crap. (y/n) stood up next, running a hand through their hair as they faced larry and lisa. “i heard you playing. i didn’t think you still knew that song.”

larry said. (y/n) turned to sally with an eyebrow raised, hands on their hips. “still?” they asked, looking between the two boys. sally had gone stiff and they seemed to almost be communicating telepathically. almost, because larry continued talking. “oh yeah. that was the first song i ever taught him on base.”

the gears clicked into place in (y/n)’s brain and a slow, wicked grin spread onto their face. “you, sally, are a liar.” they said, taking daisy back from him and slinging her over their back. they huffed a little laugh and looked between the two boys again, shaking their head. “see you around, sally.” they sauntered out of the elevator and regarded lisa with a few kind words and a gentle pat on the shoulder as they went, giving sally one last smirk over their shoulder before they disappeared around the corner.

larry turned on sal immediately, a ‘no-way’ expression on his face. “you talked to them?” he asked, grabbing sal by the shoulders. “yeah.” “and you told them you don’t know how to play??” “yeah.” “you sly dog, you!” larry slapped him on the shoulder like a proud dad, a smile breaking out onto his face.

“did you invite them to the thing tonight? at the lake?” “…crap.” “Sally!”

(y/n) stood around the corner, hand covering their mouth as they giggled and hurriedly scribbled some words onto an old napkin they found in their pocket. when they were done, they oh-so conveniently dropped the piece of paper on the ground, knowing they’d see it and pick it up.

the note read, “room three oh two, seven o’clock. be there. see you then.”

(y/n) quickly turned and hurried to their room as they heard sal and larry’s voices get closer, slipping through the door before they saw them.

one second. two, five, ten. then, the most excited whoops and shouts. (y/n) laughed so hard their stomach hurt, shaking their head. “aw, man.” they walked across their living room and pat their cat on the head, a little extra pep in their step as they walked towards their bedroom to get ready.

“imagine if he knew that i’ve been watching him too.”

[nurfhurdur]

There was a lull in the conversation, and it was something Lightning had grown more comfortable with over time. The silence didn't always need to be filled. He didn't always need to be heard.

He kicked the floor to move the old computer chair in a half circle and eyed the top of Doc's desk in the corner of the garage vaguely. He observed his mentor's profile as Doc read over something (what Lightning wasn't sure of and didn't really care enough to know) most likely paperwork that had been pushed to the side and needed his attention now.

Smoke from the cigarette Doc held ghosted above his head, drifting in a lazy trail from where he moved it away from his mouth to ash in the ashtray on the desk. The movement caught Lightning's eye and he frowned suddenly.

"How long've you done that?"

Obviously not following the kid's train of thought, Doc glanced up from the paper he held. "Done what?"

"Smoked...."

His brows lifted in a show of consideration before he shrugged lightly and ashed the cigarette again. " 'bout as long as I can remember."

"You've never thought of quitting?"

Doc spun his own chair to face Lightning more. His posture was slouched a bit as he replied, eyes still on the paper in his hand as he spoke. "I did quit once."

"Then why'd you start again?"

"Life."

Lightning could tell he was reaching dangerous territory. As nonchalant as Doc sounded, Lightning could sense the subtle change in his tone. His defenses were going up.

"Well I think you should quit."

"I'm a little old to be trying that again, Hot Rod." He smirked. "Besides, I doubt the rest of the town wants to go through that."

Lightning huffed softly. Having an even grumpier Doc was better than not having Doc at all. He crossed his arms and stared out of the open garage doors into the sunlight, wracking his brain for a way to argue his point.

"You're pouting."

"I'm not pouting." He replied without looking back at Doc.

Silence fell over the two again and eventually the subject changed. When did they want to meet back out at the Butte the next day, had Lightning been able to keep the plans for Mater's surprise party a secret, had they decided on who was picking up the cake.

Lightning stood from his chair and stretched. "I'm pretty sure Sal said she was going to pick it up but I'll ask her again and send you a text."

"Sounds good, Kiddo."

Lightning expression became grim, watching Doc reach for the pack of cigarettes again. "Doesn't that effect your breathing?"

"Not that I've ever noticed."

"Yeah, but I mean....didn't your sister have trouble with-" Lightning never brought up Doc's family unless Doc did first, and the words had left his mouth before he realized it.

The brass Zippo lighter closed with a violent click and was returned to Doc's shirt pocket with more force than necessary. If looks could kill, Lightning was sure he'd be on the garage floor.

He wasn't going to be cowed into submission. Instead of backtracking or apologizing, he just leveled his mentor with a look of his own before leaving. "I'll let you know about the cake."

[cult-of-the-eye]

Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider

FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST

Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death

New spooky music???

My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks

Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER

Omg the greying hair is canon??

Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you

Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy

Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma

You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.

Getting such neurodivergent vibes

Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes

My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys

He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start

"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary

Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it

I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old

The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense

Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol

It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered

My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that

I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard

The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol

He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you

On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name

I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it

AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH

HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.

yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner

GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND

ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC

THE ADMIRAL

Awwww he's so cute with georgie

GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST

THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE

Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??

God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her

It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster

WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!

[lostinthewiind]

Bad Influence

Ray Person - Generation Kill

Rating: 16+

"Alright, Ray, I've got that hose you were looking for." You approached the humvee and waited for Ray to pull his head out of the hood.

Sweating buckets from a mixture of the hot steam and stifling Iraqi heat, Ray looked up at you. "You brought me hoes? Where?" He whipped his head from left to right.

Unamused, you placed a hand on your hip and stared him down. "Do you want me to fix your humvee for the millionth time or not?"

"Work your magic." Ray stepped away from the vehicle and held his hands up in defeat. "I can't seem to get the bitch working."

"I don't suppose that's the first time you've had trouble turning a bitch on, now is it, Ray?" you quipped as you took over for him and began to replace the radiator hose.

Ray grimaced. "You know, I liked you a lot better when you were the quiet, sweet mechanic."

"Blame yourself for teaching me such inappropriate language then," you accused him. "I was such a nice, innocent girl before I met you."

Ray smirked as he pulled his sunglasses out of his breast pocket and slid them on. "Hell yeah, you were. I love being a bad influence."

"I'm sure you do."

While you worked away on the humvee, thoroughly coating your hands and t-shirt in grease and God knows what other lubricants Ray had used in a desperate attempt to get his vehicle working again, Ray stood by and watched. Every once in a while he would tell a joke or throw in some unwanted advice, but generally speaking, he was useless.

"Do you think when your parents popped out a perfect baby girl, they imagine a future of fixing old ass humvees in the Iraq desert surrounded by some of the most depraved men in the world for her?" he asked out of nowhere.

Wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your arm, you glared at Ray. "Do you think when your parents popped out a perfect baby boy they-" You paused. "Oh, wait. Never mind."

Stepping away from the vehicle and taking a quick break, you wiped your hands on the rag you carried in your back pocket the best you could before using the bottom on your t-shirt to wipe your face. With your lower stomach exposed, Ray let out a low whistle.

"You know, I think I've had a dream like this before," he said. Arms folded across his chest, he let his eyes trail over your body as you furrowed your brows. "Oh yeah, I've definitely had a dream like this before."

"Ray, if one more HR violation comes out of your mouth, I'm going to leave you and your broken humvee in the dust while the rest of us invade Iraq," you threatened. "Is that what you want?"

"What?" Ray retorted, defensive. "You're hot! It's a compliment."

Ignoring the comments, you returned to the task at hand, hoping you could get it done ASAP and head back to your tent to get out of the sun. With a couple more adjustments, you were sure you could get the hose attached and tightened properly. Hopefully, that would do the trick.

"This would be a lot more fun to watch if you took your shirt off."

You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Ray, shut your fucking mouth before I come over there and shut it for you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Drawing in a deep, calming breath, you focused on fixing the radiator hose. Once it was done, you slammed the hood back down and marched over to Ray, hands still slick with grease.

"Both." You grabbed his face with your hands, completely throwing him off guard. His relentless banter was a constant in your life, but he never actually acted on any of the things he said; and never in a million years did he think you would act on them.

You felt him inhale sharply as you leaned in, lips inches away from his. "I'm both terrified and extremely turned on right now," he whispered.

"Just how I like my men," you whispered back, lips ghosting over his.

"Are we about to kiss right now? Is this actually happening?"

"Ray," you breathed out, and when his hands lifted to your hips, you smirked. "I would rather wrap my mouth around the humvee's exhaust pipe and suck than ever kiss you."

With that, you pulled away and shook your head. Ray stared back at you, completely oblivious to the two greasy hand prints on either side of his face.

"Man, that's fucked up! Messing with a guy's emotions like that," he complained, clearly embarrassed with how quickly he had become caught up in the moment. "I don't want to kiss you anyway. You smell like sweat and grease."

"That'll teach you to harass me when I'm doing you a favour," you said as you grabbed the rag out of your back pocket again. "The humvee should be fine now. Go ahead and give it a try."

Narrowing his eyes at you, Ray slid into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. After a couple sputters, the vehicle roared the life, significantly quieter than it had been previously.

"Hey!" Ray slapped his hands down on the steering wheel. "You did it! And to think they said women weren't any good outside of the kitchen."

A defeated sigh fell from your lips. Then, you smiled. "Never change, Ray."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied. "Seriously though, thanks."

Your smile widened. "No problem."

As you turned to leave, you heard Ray clear his throat and stopped to look back at him. "You know, I don't actually think kissing you would be so terrible." His cheeks were redder than usual. "I mean, you do smell like sweat and grease, but we all do so its not exactly a turn off, considering the circumstances."

You chuckled. "And I suppose kissing you wouldn't be as bad as sucking on an exhaust pipe. A marginal increase in enjoyment, probably."

"So ..." He eyed you. "Should we, you know ...?"

"Absolutely not."

"No, yeah, it's probably a bad idea. You're right."

You shook your head as you began to leave. "I'm walking away now before things get weird again. Goodbye, Ray."

"Smart move. Goodbye."