#The continuation of the asks you sent the other day
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bookwormjust · 1 day ago
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Shadows in the Sun (established relationship with Azriel, sunny day with the IC, Overprotective mate, teasing by Cass and Rhys)
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It was the perfect summer day by the Sidra, the sky a brilliant blue with not a single cloud in sight. The Inner Circle had decided to spend the afternoon by the river, taking advantage of the warm weather. Feyre and Mor were lounging nearby, laughing and talking, while Cassian and Rhys splashed around in the water like a pair of overgrown children, their wings sending up waves as they wrestled with each other.
You were stretched out on a soft towel, basking in the warmth of the sun as the river's gentle breeze rustled through the trees. The heat on your skin was soothing, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could fully relax. The sounds of your friends' laughter mixed with the rush of the water, creating a perfect atmosphere of peace.
But you knew peace wouldn’t last for long with Azriel around.
You sensed him before you saw him—the familiar whisper of shadows lingering in the air, brushing against your skin as if trying to warn you. A soft chuckle left your lips, knowing exactly what was about to happen.
Moments later, you felt a cool shadow fall over you, blocking the warmth of the sun. You opened your eyes, squinting slightly as Azriel stood over you, his wings stretched wide, casting a protective barrier between you and the sun’s rays.
"Azriel," you groaned with a laugh, playfully swatting at him, "I’m trying to tan."
He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in that way that made your heart flutter. "You’ve been in the sun long enough," he said, his voice calm but laced with that overprotective edge you knew so well. "You’ll burn."
Before you could protest, he knelt down beside you, the dampness from his swim causing droplets of water to fall onto your skin. His wings curled slightly around you, shielding you from the bright light. You could see his brothers behind him, still in the water, casting knowing glances your way.
Cassian yelled from the river, voice dripping with teasing, "Az, let her get some sun! Stop being a mother hen!"
Azriel ignored him, his attention completely on you as he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you’d left beside your towel. His gaze softened as he met your eyes, and without asking, he popped the cap open and poured some into his hands.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.
Azriel’s lips twitched in amusement. “I’m taking care of you,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He started with your shoulders, his touch firm but gentle as he massaged the sunscreen into your skin. The feeling of his hands on you, combined with the coolness of the lotion, sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat of the day. His fingers trailed over your arms, making sure not to miss a single spot, his eyes focused intently on his task.
“You’re overprotective, you know that?” you teased softly, your voice laced with affection.
Azriel’s wings shifted slightly, creating a cocoon of shade around you. His gaze flickered to your face, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I didn’t say that,” you said with a soft laugh, tilting your head back as he moved to rub sunscreen along your legs. “But you do know I’m capable of putting sunscreen on myself, right?”
Azriel’s smile widened, though his eyes were serious as they flicked up to meet yours. “I know. But I like taking care of you.” His fingers lingered a little longer than necessary, his touch filled with tenderness as he continued his task.
You couldn't help but melt under his care, your heart swelling at the softness in his voice. Even as a formidable warrior and shadowsinger, Azriel was always gentle with you, always showing his love in these small, protective ways.
Rhys called out from the water, clearly amused by the scene playing out in front of him. “Azriel, I think she’s good! You missed a spot on her elbow, though.”
You rolled your eyes, and Azriel shot his High Lord a half-hearted glare before returning his focus to you. Once he was satisfied with his work, he leaned back on his heels, his wings folding slightly but still providing you with shade. “You can tan later,” he said, his voice quieter now, softer. “I just don’t want you to burn.”
You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” you whispered, letting him know how much you appreciated his protectiveness, even if you didn’t always admit it out loud.
Azriel’s expression softened, his thumb brushing lightly over your hand before he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.
As he stood, you could see that familiar glint of mischief return to his eyes. “Now, stay here where it’s safe,” he teased, his wings flaring slightly as he turned back toward the river. “I’m going to deal with my brothers.”
With a wink, he stalked back toward the water, his shadows trailing behind him as he approached Cassian and Rhys, who were still laughing at his overprotectiveness. But from the look on Azriel’s face, you knew they’d be on the receiving end of his payback soon enough.
And as you lay back down, smiling to yourself, you knew that no matter how overprotective your mate could be, you wouldn’t trade him—or his giant, shade-casting wings—for anything in the world.
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judaismandsuch · 3 days ago
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An Open Letter to Dropout
@dropoutdottv I am disappointed in you.
I know that this will not change your policy, nor will you make a folloe up statement, as proportion wise the number of people you have lost from your last post, vs. the number of people you will lose should you make an apology and walk back the statement are not in any way the comparable.
But you have failed your Jewish audience.
A group of your viewers accused an openly and actively Jewish guest on one of your shows of being Zionist. Despite him not making any statements since the few days after October 7th.
So you made a statement, saying that no one you have had on identifies themselves as such. And that even if anyone did you would give them the room to grow, and learn, and repent from such a horrific view.
That you condemn the genocide. Which hasn't been found to be a genocide by the international court. Which has a death toll of combatants-to-civilians far less than even just the bombing of Dresden of WWII. An event can be horrific without being genocide. But calling it 'monstrous' or 'horrific' wouldn't have placated people.
Though I noticed that you haven't spoken about the genocide (or at least, wide spread persecution and inhumane treatment) of Uyghurs in China. But that may lead to you becoming completely banned in China. Which could impact your bottom line.
You will give more money to PCRF, and you encourage people to donate to UNRWA.
What is wrong with you?
What is it, that an accusation of 'Zionist', which can mean anything from "Israel exists now, and it no longer existing is bad" to the Kahanist definition, requires an immediate response and excuse?
You continue to recommend supporting UNRWA, despite documented proof that UNRWA members took part in October 7th.
In your first milque-toast response to your Discord's meltdown on the subject you supported JVP, and mentioned that there are several equally horrific events going on around the world.
But you haven't supported any of the other causes.
Several of them are far worse than what is happening in Gaza, but you haven't raised a cent for them.
You continue to tacitly support JVP, despite any affiliated Jew saying that they are clearly not Jewish. There practices show that they don't understand Judaism, and their founders and board of directors is mainly non-Jews. They have a page on ADL describing all the Antisemitic acts that they have done. But you still keep a pinned post in support of them.
Why aren't you fundraising for WCK? They do good work in Gaza, and unlike the rest of the groups you platformed, they haven't had a single accusation of association with Hamas.
But, you treat a baseless call of 'Zionist' as if it were a nearly credible call of 'Nazi'.
You make a post on this, the day before the American Election, but haven't even done a single 'go out to vote' post?
What is wrong with you?
Are you afraid that because @samreich is Jewish, if you don't get in front of demands that all obvious Jews you have on demonstrate their alliance with 'the cause', people will start to ask if Sam Reich is 'one of the good ones'?
To be clear, this isn't antisemitism.
This is performing for an audience that doesn't realise that a witch hunt for Jews, demanding that the Jews show that they are 'good jews' is in fact antisemitism.
This is focusing on one conflict to the exclusion of all others. Perhaps Myanmar and Sudan just aren't that important. Afterall, no one is talking about them.
Feeling the need to address baseless accusations thrown on obvious Jews that haven't performed well enough.
You have sent your message.
I am unwelcome.
I hope it was worth it
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kyksbb · 3 days ago
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First of Forever
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader
Requested
Summary: On your honeymoon, Jude gently guides you through your first experience.
Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)
Word Count: 3.4K
Masterlist
Author’s note: Another request incoming 💕 Thank you anon for your request and sorry it took a while, hope you love it! 🫂
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The waves lapped softly against the shore, mixing with the quiet hum of the ocean breeze, creating an atmosphere that felt both dreamlike and grounding. With the moonlight casting a silvery glow on the sand and the faint candlelight from the restaurant illuminating your path, everything about the night felt surreal — a scene painted just for the two of you.
Dinner on the balcony had been enchanting: candlelight flickering, a mesmerizing view stretching out before you, and your skin still warm from a perfect day under the sun. But what made it truly special was Jude, sitting across from you, his gaze soft, filled with pure adoration.
You and Jude had only been married for two days, and this was your first full day of the honeymoon. Every moment with him felt like a new layer of happiness unfolding.
From the very start of your relationship, he had been loving, loyal, endlessly considerate, and, perhaps most notably, a romantic at heart. He brought out a part of you that you hadn’t explored before, one that reveled in little acts of tenderness, in shared glances and thoughtful gestures. Jude had turned romance from something you once found unnecessary into an art you cherished. Midnight beach walks, flowers just because, and impromptu stargazing dates — all of it was him, and all of it was now you, too.
As you looked around, taking in the quiet magic of the scene, you whispered, “This place is so beautiful.” The ocean stretched on, vast and peaceful, perfectly mirroring your mood.
Jude, his eyes never leaving yours, smiled softly. “You’re so beautiful.” He spoke as if it were the simplest truth in the world, and yet it sent a flutter through you that felt new and profound every single time.
Gently, he took your hand, tracing small, comforting circles with his thumb. “I’m so happy,” you murmured, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves, but your smile said it all. You leaned your cheek against your other hand, savoring the moment.
His thumb stilled, pressing against your knuckles as he lifted your hand to his lips, planting a lingering kiss. “Your happiness is everything to me,” he said softly, his gaze warm, capturing the depths of what words alone couldn’t express.
As a blush warmed your cheeks, he broke the moment with a grin. “Ready for a walk?” he asked, nodding toward the beach below, the ocean rolling just a few steps away.
You returned his smile, the simple suggestion filling you with a sudden thrill. You both rose from the table, hand in hand, and made your way down to the shore. It was late, the beach empty except for a few stragglers down the way, and the glow from the restaurant cast just enough light to keep the path ahead of you illuminated.
The moon cast a soft, silvery glow over the beach, illuminating your path and adding a surreal, romantic touch to your peaceful stroll. The gentle rhythm of the waves mingled with the soft breeze, carrying the salty scent of the sea and making the entire night feel like a dream come true. Jude’s hand was warm and reassuring in yours, fingers laced tightly together, a silent promise in each step you took side by side.
As you both walked, you breathed in deeply, letting the tranquility settle over you. "I really needed this," you murmured, glancing at him with a grateful smile. “The rest, I mean.”
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes filled with that familiar adoration. "Our wedding was the most incredible day, but it was a lot,” you continued, feeling the weight of it all fall away in this moment. “Just everything, the planning… all the rushing. It was beautiful but so stressful.”
His smile softened, warm and understanding. “It was, but seeing you this happy now makes every moment worth it,” he replied, his gaze reassuring, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I’m so glad we’re finally here. Just you and me.”
You stopped walking, turning to take him in fully, letting the moonlight outline his features, enhancing every handsome angle, his dark eyes gleaming with warmth. He reached up, his fingers grazing your cheek with that familiar tenderness, and you felt yourself lean into his touch. In that moment, you couldn’t resist; you cupped his face, fingers tracing along his jaw, and pulled him closer until your lips met in a soft, deep kiss.
Jude’s kiss was everything. Gentle, devoted, yet filled with an urgency that made your heart race. The way his lips moved against yours spoke volumes of love he didn’t always put into words, his hand cradling the back of your neck as if he never wanted to let you go.
Finally, you pulled back, your breaths mingling in the cool night air, your heart racing as you looked into his eyes. “I think…” you began, catching your breath, “I think we should go back to our room.”
A faint smile curled on his lips as he gazed back at you, the love unmistakable. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and took your hand, leading you back toward the hotel, neither of you saying a word.
The elevator ride was quiet, yet Jude couldn’t keep his hands off you, his kisses trailing from your lips to your neck, his touch lingering, his fingers pressing against your hips as he whispered little words of affection against your skin. His touch was slow, as though savoring every second, his arms wrapped around you as the elevator dinged.
Once inside your suite, Jude turned to you, his gaze both tender and intense. His hands framed your face, his lips claiming yours in another deep kiss, a silent vow of everything he felt. Slowly, his tongue traced yours, deepening the kiss as he drew you closer, his hand slipping to your waist, squeezing firmly, as though grounding himself in this moment with you.
“Do you know how madly in love with you I am?” he whispered against your lips between kisses, his voice rough with affection. "How proud I am that you're all mine?" His words were almost a confession, but they poured from his heart as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing lightly through your hair.
He trailed his lips down your jaw, his kisses tracing along your skin in a slow, mesmerizing line. You felt your pulse quicken, your nerves humming with anticipation. You had waited for this, the intimacy that lay ahead, yet despite all your love and trust in Jude, the moment still held a weight, a depth, that made your heart race with excitement and a touch of nerves. But Jude’s patience and tenderness put you at ease.
Not having sex before marriage had been entirely your choice, one he had respected fully from the beginning. Never once pushing boundaries or questioning your decision. Instead, he embraced it, loving you fiercely without needing anything more. He’d always taken your feelings to heart, caring for you deeply, making sure every moment you shared felt safe and cherished.
With his hands gently holding your waist, he looked into your eyes, his gaze tender and searching. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper but filled with love, grounding you in this new chapter together.
“You okay?” He asked you after he didn’t hear you say anything.
You looked at him, anxiety visible in your eyes.
“Y/N, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, my love. You know that, right?” He reassured you, sensing your worry and making clear what already has been clear during your whole relationship. You controlled the pace of things, he went along with it, wanting nothing but for you to feel comfortable.
“No, no, I know…” You looked him in the eyes. You truly were nervous and a little scared, but the fact that this was happening with Jude was what gave you so much confidence and serenity, you trusted him with your life, with your eyes closed. “I want to.” You said as you connected your lips with him.
“Are you sure?” He asked you in between the kisses.
“More than sure,” you blurted out, not being able to move your lips away from his sweet lips.
You fiddled with the hem of his shirt, him taking this as a signal and taking it off quickly. You two moved to bed, him laying you down gently, hovering over you, not letting your lips separate.
He slid your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. As he lowered his mouth to your skin, his lips traveled down to your collarbone, his warm breath leaving a trail of heat that only intensified when he deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside. His gaze swept over your exposed skin, taking you in as if seeing you for the first time, his eyes darkened with both admiration and desire.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he murmured, his face lingering close to your chest, unable to look away. “You’re unreal.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against your breast, his tongue swirling slowly around your sensitive peak. His other hand massaged and teased the opposite side, making you gasp as his warm mouth took in every inch of you, savoring each flick of his tongue. You felt the heat of his breath on your skin, making you arch slightly into him, your body reacting instinctively to the pleasure he was giving.
“You look so gorgeous,” he said softly, voice husky against your heated skin as he traced the line of your collarbone with his mouth. “And you’re all mine,” he added, a hint of possessiveness woven into his words. “I feel so selfish.” His teeth grazed lightly over the spot he’d just kissed, and the mix of his lips and tongue left you groaning, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
Jude's mouth moved downward, trailing kisses from your breasts to your stomach, pausing over your belly button as his lips lingered a little longer, drawing out the anticipation. He quickly slipped off your skirt, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, his fingers tracing the strap of your panties with deliberate slowness.
Looking up at you with dark, hooded eyes, he whispered, “If you feel even the slightest discomfort, tell me. We’ll stop.”
You nodded, giving him a silent reassurance, and leaned back, your heart pounding with anticipation. He carefully slid your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor as you kicked them off, his eyes taking in every inch of your bare skin with unrestrained desire.
He gently spread your legs, his gaze locked on you as his fingers slowly traced along your folds, your arousal evident under his touch. His eyes softened momentarily as he took in the sight, almost in awe. “Gosh, Y/N,” he breathed, voice thick. “You’re dripping.”
Proud to have you so ready for him, he parted your folds gently, revealing your most sensitive spot. Without hesitation, he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit, his warm breath grazing your skin and adding to the sensation. The sudden rush of pleasure made you gasp loudly, the sound uncontainable as he worked his tongue with precise, teasing flicks.
“Jude, fuck!” His name spilled out of your mouth, a desperate plea as his mouth continued its slow, skillful movements. His tongue lapped against you, each stroke sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body, building intensity with every pass.
“That’s it, love,” he groaned into you, the vibration sending sparks through your nerves. “You taste heavenly.” His fingers, which had been tracing your folds, slid down, teasing the edge of your entrance. “Is this okay?” he asked, his tone gentle yet eager.
Unable to speak, you nodded, giving him all the confirmation he needed. He pressed a finger inside, moving slowly, allowing you to adjust as his tongue returned to your clit, flicking it in perfect rhythm with his hand.
With each curl of his fingers inside you, the pleasure intensifying to an almost unbearable level. “Shit, my love,” he murmured against you, his free hand grasping your thigh, pulling it over his shoulder as he delved deeper.
The sounds of your breathless moans, the way you tugged at his hair, fingers clutching the sheets beneath you — everything was too much, yet you never wanted it to end. When he curled his fingers just right, you let out a loud, needy moan that echoed through the room.
“Found it,” he murmured proudly, glancing up with a smirk before resuming his movements with even more fervor. The pressure built and built until it felt like every nerve in your body was alight.
“Jude, I’m so close!” you managed to cry out, the intensity of the moment pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His mouth and fingers worked in tandem, each flick, curl, and stroke expertly timed to bring you to your climax.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Let go.” His encouragement was all it took for you to unravel, your body shaking as waves of pleasure overtook you. The tension that had been building released in a burst of pure bliss, each shock leaving you gasping as Jude continued to draw out every second of your climax.
As you came down, breath heavy, Jude shifted to hover over you, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder as you basked in the afterglow, feeling completely and utterly loved.
You brought his face close, kissing him deeply, savoring the feel of his soft lips and the taste of his breath mingling with yours. Your hand slid toward his pants, fingers skillfully undoing the button as you attempted to slide your hand inside, but Jude quickly caught your wrist, stopping you gently.
“Wait,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender. “Tonight’s about you. Let’s leave that for later.” Even in his most intense moments, he had a way of melting your heart, showing you that you were all he cared about right then.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours softly as his hand held yours with reverence. “We can stop anytime, okay? Just say the word.”
“I know, Jude,” you replied, your need for him simmering over. “Please, I need you now.” You pulled him into another kiss, feeling his muffled moan against your mouth.
Jude shed his pants and boxers in one smooth motion, and when he finally freed himself, you couldn’t help the surprised breath that escaped you. Thick, veiny, and utterly perfect, he was… breathtaking. The sight made you clench in anticipation, your body fully attuned to the idea of him filling you completely.
He gave himself a few rough strokes, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock as his lips drifted to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his mouth right by your ear, sending chills down your spine. You nodded, voice barely above a whisper as you managed a quick “yes.”
Slowly, he began to push into you, moving with careful precision, his thick length parting you and pushing into your soft, warm walls. Your head fell back, a loud gasp escaping your lips, just as a deep, expressive moan escaped his.
He filled you in a way that was both overwhelming and achingly satisfying. At first, there was just the softness, the gradual stretch that eased the empty ache his fingers had left behind.
“Breathe,” he ordered softly, his gaze full of concern as he watched you adjust. “You all right?”
“Yes,” you managed, nodding quickly, your voice laced with both awe and urgency.
Then, he pressed deeper.
And that was when you truly felt it — a slow burn, a pulse that matched the ache as your body adjusted to his size. He moved slowly, allowing you to savor every moment and giving you time to take him all in. “Oh, fuck, doll,” he groaned, voice rough, almost breathless. “You’re so tight.”
He thrust in sharply, drawing a strangled cry from you as you arched up, feeling the mix of pleasure and a slight tension.
He pulled back, the empty sensation just as powerful as the filled one. But before you could even miss it, he was pushing back into you, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red as you groaned, clinging to him.
“Jude,” you breathed, the sound of his name coming out as though it held your very breath, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.
Your gasps turned to moans as his hips moved in a steady rhythm, each thrust drawing you deeper into a blissful haze. He slipped his arm under you, lifting you slightly to find an even better angle, and thrust into you again. Your mouth dropped open, breathless gasps filling the room.
“Are you okay? Should I stop?” he whispered, and the concern in his voice nearly broke you.
“No, no—please keep going,” you answered, the need in your voice coming through almost as a plea.
Finding the perfect rhythm, Jude moved with purpose, his hips meeting yours in sync, the connection between you deepening with every movement. He went faster, driving into you deeply, his hand moving to cup your breast, kneading it tenderly.
He filled you fully, the fit so perfect it was like you were made for each other. The warmth radiated from him, blanketing you in a feeling of complete unity, like you were his and he was yours, wholly and undeniably.
Jude whimpered, his face buried in your neck as he bit down gently, his lips grazing your skin with a mix of desire and tenderness.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his voice laced with adoration and teasing. “I can feel you squeezing me. Need it so bad, don’t you? Need to come, hm?”
“Yes, yes!” you gasped, nails digging deeper into his arms as your body trembled in his hold. The sensation was overwhelming, but so was the warmth in his words, grounding you while taking you over the edge.
A pleased smile spread across his face as he leaned in, pressing his mouth against yours with a fervent kiss, savoring every second. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, as he nipped gently at your bottom lip. “I love you so much.” His words were as soft as his touch, his mouth never breaking away from yours, conveying every feeling he had.
You moaned loudly, your voice betraying the words you couldn’t yet find, hoping he could feel every bit of love you had for him in each sound you made.
And then, just as your body tightened around him, he twitched inside you, burying his face back into your neck with a deep groan as your entire body shuddered.
A gasp tore from your lips as you felt yourself on the very brink, the pleasure overtaking every muscle, every fiber, before washing over you in a wave that made you rake your fingers down his back, a choked moan slipping past your lips as you trembled in his arms.
“Give it to me,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he held you close. “Just like that.”
Your voice filled the room, his name on your lips as wave after wave of pleasure took you, your whimpers trailing off as he remained firmly against you, his fingers finding your clit again, drawing out every bit of pleasure left.
You weren’t even sure you could breathe, lost entirely in the sensations. But you loved it. Loved the way he held you close, pressing his teeth into your shoulder as he buried himself deeper, finally letting go with a shudder as he poured himself into you, holding you tighter than ever.
Every joint in your body ached, radiating with the incredible high of both pain and pleasure, your arms looping around his neck as he remained within you, neither of you wanting the moment to end. Even as your breaths finally calmed, he stayed close, only pulling back to press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wrapped you securely in his arms, whispering sweet nothings, his voice like a gentle lullaby in your ear.
It was only in that moment, with Jude’s arms around you, that you realized exactly how lucky you were — wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, in a perfect place, having experienced the most unforgettable night of your life. And as your breathing slowed and your heart settled, you smiled, feeling utterly complete in the embrace of your Jude.
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millersfinest · 2 days ago
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the thing in your chest that beats ² | e.w
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santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader
wc: 4.5k
mini-series: california | oregon (you’re here) | idaho | wyoming
blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…
cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, eventual smut, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, reader being complicated, mentions of attraction, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’.
note: honestly i just can’t wait for them to kiss (spoiler: not this chapter). but they’re learning to trust each other. just know in the idaho ch we’re gonna be UP! please, enjoy this for now!! (also: i hope the lot of you voted for the presidential election. these are very very important times #harriswaltz2024)
Oregon
Several days and nights were spent on a boat, cruising up the coast of California. It was one of those livable boats, where you could hide from the sun in a room with stable furniture to eat on, and a bed to sleep on. You spent a lot of your time inside the hatch, analyzing a map that Ellie had labeled with a marker. Hoping that you’d maintain your luck enough to actually see Wyoming for yourself.
Ellie had confessed that she came from Jackson, but she still hadn’t told you the why. Instead of asking about it, you refrained, in turn, asking about the settlement. Were the people kind? Did they have horses? Because you heard they had horses.
Those were the questions she could answer easily, with little to no hesitation. Until your questioning began to irritate her—which, in turn, irritated you.
The two of you bickered over the smallest of things in those days on the water. It could’ve been the heat, or the rationed food, or even your similar personalities. You couldn’t help but clash every chance you got. By the time the two of you drifted onto the coastline of Oregon, the conversations had diminished—because of your stubborn attitudes.
Leaving behind the boat was a drag, but there’s wasn’t much of a choice. The rest of the journey toward Wyoming was going to be on foot. Over cracked pavements and between dewey trees. If only the trip could be simplified by the use of a boat—it would be less extraneous.
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The weather had gotten significantly cooler the more north you traveled. The mornings were the coolest, and the days were chilled with a gentle breeze. It would rain eighty percent of the time, which made it harder for you and Ellie to continue the trek. But both of you were resilient.
Somewhere between Salem and Portland, you found yourselves looking for a place to stay for the night. You had run across some nefarious people when you first arrived at the coast; and you’ve been recovering ever since. Trying to collect as many things as possible on the road to make up for the lost ammo and supplies. Which is what led to you looking for a place to crash in, basically, pitch black darkness. Navigating the dewey wood with nothing but the lights attached to your bags.
Droplets of water slipped off the waxy green leaves of the trees above. Splashing onto you—and it was shocking every time. The climate sent a gentle chill up your spine, so the water was even colder. Ellie walked ahead of you, mumbling under her breath from the lack of shelter. Her agitation was ruminating off her skin like a furnace. “We should’ve never gone this way— there’s nothing out here!”
Her agitation was obviously laced with panic. Ellie was exhausted from all the traveling and worries about conflict. “We entered a campsite a few miles back. At the very least there should be a cabin out here.” You surmised, squinting your eyes trying to defy the darkness. The auburn-haired woman scoffed under her breath, adjusting the hood of her raincoat. “If you wanna take a break, just say that.” You reached for her wrist, pulling gently. “It’s been a long day…”
“Absolutely not. We need a place to sleep tonight— with a roof.” Ellie pulled her arm away, placing her hands onto her hips. Her head hung low, clearly fatigued.
“How about this: you park it by this tree for a little bit, while I walk around to see if I can find somethin’ for us.” You offer, shrugging your shoulders, casually. The both of you were exhausted, but it seemed that Ellie was suffering a bit more than you were. Was that not that point of a team? To tap in someone else when you need it. Plus, you really felt that there was a cabin nearby. There had to be one. Most campsites had cabins that hikers and campers would go to before they began their adventures. For supplies or even important notices about wild animals.
Or, maybe, you watched too much tv at the firefly base.
She shook her head. “No chance. Separating in the dark doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. What? So, you can get lost and give us another problem to deal with?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you press your lips into an irritated line. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” You raised an eyebrow, glaring at the woman in front of you. “I was a firefly for six years of my life—“
“Oh, my God! The whole world knows that you were a fucking firefly, y/n. No need for the reminder.”
Ellie began to walk in another direction, sternly. You scoffed, following after her like confused duckling—which was an embarrassing thought. “You’re so insufferable. All I was trying to do was help you out— because to be honest, you’re not handling this well.” You quip, walking by her side with your hands shoved into your pockets.
She scoffed. “How could I handle this well? Please, tell me.” Stopping in her tracks, she glares at you. Olive irises blown out from the darkness around her, boring into your aggressive frame.
Taking a step closer to her, the corners of your lips curled, mischievously. “You could start by taking a fucking break and letting me take the lead.” There was something that differed between you and Ellie’s versions of frustration and anger. She took it up a level, while you brought it down. It could fool an idiot into thinking you weren’t mad at all, when really you were fuming. The pace of your voice was slow, almost menacing. True fire remained behind your eyes, in your posture—the way your lip twitched as you spoke.
“I’m not some damsel in distress you pull everywhere then blame when shit goes wrong.” You added, taking in her battered features. The scar in her eyebrow and her top lip. The freckles under her peeling skin from the days aboard. “I have a great sense of direction; I’ll have you know.” As you spoke, she examined your features the same way you did. “Stop arguing with me, sit your ass down, drink some water— and i’ll be back in twenty minutes tops!”
Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth, averting her eyes from you. She was too stubborn to admit her own exhaustion to you—she’d rather be in control of the situation than someone she barely knew. Someone, who at the start of this trip, was, in fact, a damsel in distress. Your body had healed in the days since departing Santa Barbara. Not completely, but in progress. You were walking better, even though you still had a bit of a limp.
Her focus on you made it easy to forget her own ailments. The missing fingers on her left hand, the wound on her abdomen. They were healing, surprisingly. However, her attention still remained on your well-being.
She sighed, itching her nose with her index finger. “Fine. Whatever.” Ellie shrugged her backpack off, leaning against the tree. “Just come back in one piece, yeah?” Somehow, she managed to sound insulting with her hidden words of weariness.
You snickered, narrowing your eyes. “Is that worry I’m sensing or…?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
With that, you backed toward the path, chuckling under your breath. Adjusting the hood over your head, you focused to begin looking for the cabin that you just knew was close by. Feet crunching over dead leaves and sticks that were imbedded in the mud.
The light attached to the strap of your bag began to flicker as you pushed between the trees. “Come on…” You hit the light to stabilize it. “Now is not the time.”
When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.
Your past affiliations haunted you like a ghost. Somehow, you always found yourself looking for that light. Perhaps, in this case, it’s Jackson, Wyoming—a place far from what you know. That was more of a long-term goal, though. The light you were currently looking for was a building made of wood, preferably insulated.
Ahead of you, you weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but what you were hoping for was coming into view. The brightness of the moon illuminating the starry sky outlined the top of the cabin, exposing its silhouette. In excitement, you rushed toward the building, peaking through the foggy windows. From what you could see, there was nothing inside but old furniture. Thankfully, no infected. You were beat; the last thing you wanted to do was fight that damn virus.
As you peeked through every window you could find, jiggling door handles to try and find a way in, you realized it was a home. Not some hiking administration building you surmised would be around the trail. Spending enough time circling the cabin, you pick up a rock from the ground to crack a window. You were getting in that house one way or another.
The rectangular shape was rather high for your reach. Huffing, you dug your fingers into the divots of the logs. It wasn’t the best grip, but it was enough to get you into that window. After throwing your body through the hole, you landed on the ground with a thud. A shallow pain throbbed in your thigh—the one that Ellie had stitched for you back in Santa Barbara. Shutting your eyes, you took in a breath from the slight pain. You weren’t one hundred percent just yet.
Exhaling, you stood tall on your feet to get a look at the interior. A long plaid couch was placed in front of what used to be a fireplace. Burned logs was still lying in the pit, but they burned to a crisp. You were certain that if you touched them, they would fall apart under the weight of your hand. The dirt shapes on the walls symbolized that picture use to fill this space—the cabin was drained of life.
It’s only source of existence was the fact that you were standing in it.
Before leaving to retrieve Ellie, you jogged up the steep stairs of the cabin. To check the upstairs rooms for any infected or people. You must’ve been one lucky woman, because there was nothing but dust occupying those rooms. Quickly, you went through the front door to grab your partner.
Crunching on leaves and sticks, you startled her. Ellie was spotted sat in front of the tree, leaning her back with her eyes closed—which was the least smart thing to do, but she was tired. The sound of your boots crushing the elements of the forest jolted her from her light sleep. She gripped her switchblade in a fist, looking at you with determination. “Fuck,” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “I thought you were someone else…”
“Nope. Just me.” You breathed, watching her as she stood to her feet. “There’s a cabin about ten minutes from this spot.” Crossing your arms, a slight smile rested on your lips. A smile screaming I-told-you-so.
Ellie slung her bag around her shoulders, dusting off her jeans; doing everything to ignore your antics. “Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna show me where it’s at?”
Sucking your teeth, you pivoted, rolling your eyes. She was such a sore loser. It felt good to be right, and for her to be wrong. You didn’t get lost like she thought—instead, you carried out exactly what you planned: finding shelter for the night.
The two of you approached the cabin, Ellie releasing a sigh of relief. Hallow sounds of your shoes walking up the steps of the wooden porch sounded. You opened the door, allowing her to walk through. Staring her down with same smile you had a few minutes ago. “Nice place, huh?” You asked, shutting the door behind you, turning the lock.
She meandered inside, surveying the interior. Her fingers slide along the dusty bannister above the fireplace, pursing her lips. “Not bad…” Ellie lifted an eyebrow, peering over her shoulder at you. Lifting her finger, she eyed the dust that stuck to her skin.
“Told you there was a cabin around here somewhere.”
“I knew you were gonna say that.” Ellie chuckled, dryly. Taking moderate steps toward the kitchen. Every time you stopped, she insisted that inventory was taken of all of your supplies. She achingly tugged her backpack off, sighing. You followed behind her, leaning your arms against the counter—watching her tired movements.
“Why are you looking at me?” She dropped her hands onto the counter, with that familiar irritated glint in her eyes.
You purse your lips. “You know I could do this, right?” Shrugging off your bag, you swing it onto the counter. There was a slight sway to Ellie—the only reason being her exhaustion. “We’ve done this a number of times; you can go rest up. There are three bedrooms upstairs— take your pick.”
Ellie scoffed, continuing the work in front of her. Counting under her breath. You grit your jaw, glaring at her. She was truly insufferable—moments like these really highlighted that. Her stubbornness and pride amounted about the same to yours; causing you to wonder… Were you just as bad? You pity the friends you had in your youth if that was the case. Releasing a meditative breath, you placed a hand over hers. “Seriously, Ellie, I got it. Go get some sleep.”
She looks at you through her eyelashes, allowing your skin to remain on hers. “Aren’t you tired, too?”
“Yeah, but not as much as you… I could stand to be up for a little while longer. You on the other hand…”
She pulled her hand from under yours, pushing off her wet hood. Her auburn strands were damp, sticking to her freckled skin. “All right. Make sure to write down the things we don’t have that we need.”
“I know.”
“And mark the items that we’re running low on.”
“Again, I know.” You motion with her hand to run along with amused eyes. Waiting to begin, you watch as she hesitantly walks toward the steep wooden stairs around the corner.
It was like pulling teeth for Ellie to willingly hand over responsibility to you. In her mind, she was still doing you a favor—she was working for you. But being that she was extremely tired, her inhibitions loosened. The touch of your skin to hers, surprisingly, comforted her concerns; made her sleepier. She heavily stepped up the stairs, leaning on the railing for support.
She walked into the first bedroom she saw. The light from the moon cascaded through the window that the queen-sized bed was pushed against. Shedding her damp clothing, she spread them out onto a dresser before getting into the bed. Before nodding off, she peered out the window with a burdened mind. Remembering the bulk of her actions leading up to Santa Barbara. With the added misfortune of Santa Barbara. Then… You.
The moon reflected over a sparkling pier, that was down a hill behind the cabin. The lake was completely in her view, rippling subtly from the fish beneath the surface. She cracked a smile, peering at the beautiful sight. Rolling up a pillow, she propped it up enough to let that be the final thing she sees before sleeping. Using the elements of the earth as a night cap.
She’d woken up many times throughout the night, but she was used to that habit. When the sun peaked through her window, Ellie had gotten as much sleep as she could have. The smell of cooked fish had wafted into her nostrils, pulling her from the old mattress. With a groan, she swung her legs over, rubbing her eyes.
In a blur, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a figure walking toward the pier. Blinking, she leaned on the pillows against the window, watching as the figure began to remove their clothes—it was you. Ellie watched as you dropped your items, carelessly, before jumping into the water. For the first time in awhile, her mind went blank. Completely empty.
Well… Not that empty.
She checked the clothes she had on from the night before, and for some reason, they still were damp. Enough moisture resided in her jeans that she didn’t feel comfortable putting them back on. Sighing, she began searching through the drawers for anything she could put on in the meantime.
Finding a pair of plaid pajama pants, she slid those on, throwing her holed band t-shirt over her sports bra. “What time is it?” She patted her jeans for the watch she carried with her. Cursing under her breath, she realized it was left in her backpack.
Quickly, Ellie found herself navigating to the first floor. Her eyes widened at the organized sight of all of your supplies. You had grouped similar items together and left a piece of paper with the amounts in each group. At the bottom of the page, you had written a list of the items you needed more of. Ellie’s watch was sitting on the end of the counter, properly placed. “You have outdone yourself…” She muttered, picking up the paper you scribbled on.
When she flipped it over, the subtle grin her lips faded. Seeing the sorrowful words written on the page. Since leaving Santa Barbara, she noticed you pulling out this letter a lot. The one you fetched from under that infected woman. You had never gone into what this letter or note meant to you—probably, because she never asked. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about it, though. Ellie never would’ve expected that you’d write on it over something as silly as taking inventory.
There were so many things she didn’t understand about you.
The aroma of fish filled her nostrils again, leading her to slab of rock placed on the counter. A coverage of cloth was placed over the fish to ward off flies. She peeked under it, seeing a perfectly scaled and grilled fish. Hunger got the best of her, and she began to eat the fish with her hands. Humming at the satisfaction of filling her stomach.
After, she grabbed the cracked watch to check the time. It was ten in the morning, the both of you should’ve been back on the road.
Pressing her lips into a line, she walked out the back door to alert you. Her fingers fiddling with the plaid cotton on her legs.
The air was fairly cool, but the sun warmed you up. Basking in the lake was like splashing your face with cold water in the morning—it was a wake-up call. Something that you needed after the night you had. In the room across from Ellie’s, the bed was too firm, and the sheets were too prickly. Your mind kept you up with the image of Honey’s infected body. And, whenever you did shut your eyes, you were back on those pillars again.
You had no choice but to get up early and occupy yourself. So, you fished for a little while, then cooked what you caught—for yourself and the sleeping woman upstairs. After that, you thought you could use a bath. And there was nothing more satisfying than cool lake water—nature’s finest.
You allowed the water to engulf you, embracing your body like a chilled hug. Breaking the surface, you swam comfortable laps around the lake. As you lazily backstroked, you noticed Ellie walking down the steps that led to the dock.
Her auburn hair was spiked all across her head—she must’ve slept well. You chuckled, swimming up the edge of the dock. Placing your hands against it, to pull yourself up a little. Bare shoulders glistening from the sunlight reflecting off your wet skin. “You have a bad case of bedhead, my friend.”
“What?” She immediately became self-conscious, running her hands through her hair. Shaking her head, she adjusted her features, trying to uphold her naturally irritated persona; scrunching her eyebrows and clenching her jaw. “You let me sleep too late; it’s ten. We should start packing up.” Her eyes avoided you, instead, focusing on the plants surrounding the lake. Or your pruned fingers holding onto the dock.
Looking up at her with squinted eyes, you dramatically sniffed. “Why don’t you hop in? You smell like shit.” You ignored her small jabs of blame, coating your lips with a smile. Perhaps, you’ve been spending too much time with her, but her little irritations were beginning to amuse you more than bother you. Or, from the angle that you were peering up at her, she looked really… Pretty. Bedhead and all.
“Excuse me?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows, finally meeting your eyes.
“I’m serious. Let’s resume the trip smelling better than a sewer.” You began to paddle backwards, almost forgetting about your own nakedness. “Take off your clothes… I‘ll give you privacy. Unless you’re too… Chicken.”
She hesitated, watching you swim backwards. Catching an accidental glimpse of your breasts as you turned around. It was true that she didn’t smell the greatest. Before she could formulate her thoughts properly, Ellie spoke. “Chicken? Really, y/n?” She sighed, punching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But not for long— I wanna make it to Idaho within the next two days…”
Ellie shed her clothes, dropping them close to yours. She jumped into the water, keeping her head from going under, loudly reacting to the coldness of the lake. “Shit!” She exclaimed, treading water.
You turned around, chuckling, noticing her hair still disheveled. “You’ll feel better if you dunk yourself under water.”
“Hell, no! It’s too cold.”
“This doesn’t have to be another I-told-you-so moment…”
She rolled her eyes, clenching her nostrils with her fingers, lowering herself under water. Allowing the cold, earthy, lake water to encapsulate her. The first few seconds were chilling, but her body began to adapt. It became rather comforting—easing her sore muscles and healing wounds.
The lake did the same for you, which was why you were still inside of it. Time stopped at the pier; at least it felt like it did. Existing felt normal, for once. There weren’t any violent rogue people, or hungry infected. Just you and Ellie bathing in a lake.
Ellie broke the surface, running her hands over her saturated strands. Her pale skin was flushed, from what you could only assume, was the briskness in the air and the chillness of water. However, that may not have completely been the case. “Feel better?” You ask, waving your arms under the water to keep yourself afloat.
The corners of her lips curled, subtly. You had to squint to really notice her amusement. She rolled her eyes in a way to avert her gaze. “Yeah, a little.” Ellie finally peered at you, pointing a dripping finger. “Don’t say it.”
“Say what?” A grin plastered on your lips. “I told you so?”
“Do you realize how annoying you are, or just me?”
You pursed your lips, feigning thought. “Just you, I think.”
Honestly, you’re proud of yourself. A lot of the relationship blossoming between your traveling partner and yourself had been developing under the pressure of your attitudes and circumstances. The fact that you could get her to crack a smile, even if it was faint, felt good. It was either the dock’s magic, or your own.
A beat passed while the two of you circled each other. Barely looking at the exposed skin above the water, trying to be distracted by the world around you.
Surprisingly, Ellie was the first to speak—or the first to question you. She rarely every asked you anything. “That letter you carry with you…” The woman awkwardly began. “I saw it on the counter— who wrote it?”
Her voice grabbed your attention immediately at the mention of the note. You held onto it like a totem, a piece of memorabilia from your past. Hesitating, you moved your eyes from left to right in thought. “I know that it came from Santa Barbara. From that house…”
“It’s from an old friend.” You started, lips parting slowly as you spoke. Mouth going dry at the question she asked. You’ve yet to physically get the chance to talk about Honey. From the days aboard the boat, you’ve been trying to forget what you saw. Maybe, you could convince yourself that she was off living the life she wanted—instead of spending her last days suffering under the hammer of infection. “Some girl I met at that God-forsaken resort…” You attempted to casually respond.
“She got infected?”
“Yeah…” You nodded with avoidance, shutting your eyes and moving your head with a cadence of I-don’t-wanna-talk-about-it.
Ellie pursed her lips, nodding. “Why’d you write on the letter? I don’t know… It looks like it means a lot to you— I don’t understand why you would write on it?” She spoke, thoughtfully, as if she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. That was certainly the first time.
You shrug, wanting to hide somewhere, even though there was nowhere to do so. “I just want to forget about it… I guess.”
“If you cared about her, why would you wanna forget about it?”
The muscles in your forehead twitched, bunching your eyebrows together. Your face burned, lips scowling. Ellie’s voice evolved from a soft curiosity, to a judgmental version of it. You sensed the difference the moment it fell from her lips. The intention of her words didn’t matter—it was what she said that bothered you. Did she think you were cruel for wanting to forget about seeing her in that state?
“If I cared about her?” You started, evenly, but with warning. “I did care about her— I do care about her! If I choose not to remember her as a fucking corpse, that makes me a bad person?” Your voice raised, for the first time in awhile, rasping.
Ellie sighed, shaking her head with pleading eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
You scoff, swimming toward the dock. “Well, I’m sure that’s what you meant, right?” Pulling yourself out of the water, you don’t think twice about the exposing of your naked body. Cold air pricking at your wet skin. “I’m the asshole for wanting to remember Honey alive rather than dead…” You wrapped the towel you brought with you around your body, balling your clothes into your arms.
Lamely, Ellie called for you from her place in the water as you left her behind. Before you covered up, she eyed the scars and bruises on your body—maps of what your vessel has been through. Perhaps, she should have entered the conversation with more caution.
Watching you stalk back into the cabin, wiping at your eyes felt like a punishment. A worse punishment than the fact that she didn’t have a towel to dry off with.
“Nice work, Ellie.”
135 notes · View notes
betterthanyalls · 2 days ago
Note
hi!
can i request for a hermes x gn!reader x odysseus? :)
i was thinking that maybe reader is already a friend of odysseus, like a childhood friend maybe or a neighbor/citizen of his kingdom and has known him for years
reader liked ody but ody already has penelope so they arent flirting anymore but when hermes shows up and starts taking readers attention for himself that's when ody starts to get a little jealous maybe? aaa sorry it has been a while since ive requested anything - i hope its not too specific ;v;
i just thought it would be fun to see witty banter battles and playful snark ^^"
I have spent my entire day throughout school and home to work on this so i am very sorry for any mistakes or if its bad, i was speed running before i eepy, also i tried to make reader x odysseus more platonic cus he got penelope yk? ALSO NGL THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE HEHEHEH
Masterlist
Divine Intervention
Hermes x GN!Reader x Odysseus [p]
EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Fluff
Words: 2.1K
Published: 11-5-2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A gentle puff of air blew through the vacant meadow, flowers brushing each other in a picturesque view. Within the center of the field, two souls lied together, laughing and gazing at the clouds with imagination. 
“That one reminds me of Argos,” Odysseus pointed up to a running puff of white above that loosely resembled said dog. “Oh, I see it!” Penelope grinned, her smile shining brighter than Helios. A short distance away, under the shade of a tree, sat the best friend of the couple. With their backs against the tree, Y/n watched on emotionlessly. Their mind felt blank; witnessing the source of their love showing admiration to somebody else delivered a new type of pain to their chest. Y/n felt lost. Would they never be the first choice? Odysseus had known them for the entirety of both their lives, but the moment he met Penelope, he forgot all about Y/n. He was head over heels, claiming he’d marry the princess before he turned twenty. Sure, they stayed friends, but that wasn’t enough for Y/n though they’d never admit it. Y/n couldn’t even blame Odysseus. Penelope looked like a goddess sent from Olympus. Anyone could mistake her for a divine being. 
With a silent sigh, Y/n prepared to push themself to their feet and take their leave. But a new presence stopped them from rising up. Looking to their left side, Y/n saw another figure sitting beside them. “Wow, really the third wheel, huh?” A cheery voice sounded from his mouth.
“Who are you?” Y/n asked, like any sane person would. “You mean you don’t recognize me? Your friend Ody would if you asked him,” the individual turned to face Y/n, giving them a good view of his identity. A metal helmet sat atop his head, adorned by smaller, brown, speckled wings. A mischievous grin was placed on his lips, with the rest of his face remaining covered by a shadow. Y/n leaned back slightly so the sun could pierce the shade better, revealing more of the man. A chiton made of the finest silk hung loosely from his shoulders, stopping at his knees. The male sat casually criss-crossed, his back propped against the same tree. A scepter sat on the ground beside him, holding two golden snakes and two glistening wings, power radiating off the item. Another point of interest for Y/n’s eyes were the sandals on his feet. Not in a footfetish type of interest, but intrigue with the fact wings fluttered like no big deal off the heels. Just as Y/n was going to breathe out his name, the guest spoke first. “Indeed, it is I, Hermes. God of messengers, travelers, luck, gambling, borders, animal husbandry, thieves, wit, speed, language, trades, commerce, athletes, merchants-”
The god continued rambling proudly about each of his domains as Y/n’s awe slowly fell into a deadpan. “I know you,” they cut off his boasting, not truly caring if it was rude. Thankfully, instead of being offended, the god merely grinned. “So, Y/n, what are you doing out here? Away from the party?” Hermes had a teasing tone in his voice, gesturing to the two lovers ahead of them. Odysseus and Penelope had no knowledge of a god offering company to their closest friend. Y/n wanted to ask how he knew their name, but they figured it was some divine power thing.
“Ody wanted to spend time with Penelope, but he was too nervous to come alone. So he dragged me along. But I don’t want to intrude on their moment together,” Y/n shrugged, looking at their friends.
The mischief god watched the mortal for a moment before a plan formed in his mind. “Well, I can’t let such a beautiful soul be alone, now can I?” Y/n turned to face Hermes, an amused yet confused smile on their lips. “I’m sorry?” They inquired, not sure if they understood his words correctly. In response, Hermes stood up and held his hand out to help the mortal up too. “If they have their moment together, then allow me to give you a moment for us.” The god had a gentle smile, keeping his hand out for them to grab. Raising an eyebrow, Y/n hesitantly took his offer and grabbed his hand. He pulled them up to stand beside him.
“So, where are we going?” Y/n asked, looking into the forest behind them. Hermes just laughed in excitement.
“You’ll see!”
And before Y/n could utter another word, the god pulled them close and took off racing through the trees. The world whipped past them at lightning speed. Trees, rocks, roads, towns—everything went by in a flash until suddenly it all paused.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n stepped away from the god. Their legs felt like brittle wood, threatening to give out at a simple breeze. Once they caught their breath, the mortal looked around to see them in the center stands of the nearby sports. Athletes were in the midst of competition down below, and nobody seemed to question two people just appearing. Hermes sat down on a stone slab and patted for Y/n to sit beside him. Doing so, the god offered them some grapes he may or may not have stolen from other mortals. “Did you choose this event just because you’re the god of athletes?” Y/n questioned  with a small laugh, taking a grape to eat and watching the sports continue. Hermes responded with his own laugh, beaming at the person beside him. “Would you leave if I said yes?” Y/n pretended to think for a moment before turning to face him with a hum. “No, but you better make this worth it,” they chuckled playfully, popping another grape to their mouth. ~~~~~ Hermes did truly make it worth it. So worth it that the two began going on adventures every day. From splashing around in rivers to exploring dark caves, the mortal and god’s friendship grew each day.
Anytime Y/n questioned themself in a mirror, Hermes would somehow maifest behind them to compliment their looks before going back to whatever job he had that day. “Dahling, you look gorgeous—beyond stunning, truly.” Was heard more than once
They would even find gifts sometimes, usually always stolen, waiting in their bedroom.
~~~~~
Currently, Y/n and the king of Ithaca were sitting in his bedroom, just talking like old friends. “So, you’ve been disappearing randomly only to come back in one state or another. Not to mention, you’ve been much more upbeat lately. What’s going on?” Odysseus interrogated with a grin. Y/n stayed quiet for a moment. Could they tell their lifelong friend about the new soul in their life? Odysseus had a raised brow, waiting for a response. “C’mon, you know you can tell me anything.” He offered with a calmer smile. Y/n’s expression softened, and they sighed, deciding to speak the truth. "I met someone,” they began, trying to form the correct words. Something in Odysseus’ eyes changed at this revelation. His posture stiffened just for a moment before returning to his previously relaxed state. “And who may this 'someone’ be?” The king continued, trying to get as much information as possible. With a quiet whisper, Y/n confessed. “Hermes...” Their lips held a bashful smile as they looked away from their friends' eyes. The friend in question paused, blinking slowly to process the information. “Hermes?! The god?!” He exclaimed with an open jaw. Y/n quickly shushed him, shoving their hands in his face. “Sh sh sh! Shut up! Not so loud,” they hissed, taking their hands away carefully once Odysseus nodded in agreement. “You know Hermes?” He continued to quiz. “Don’t you?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the first conversation with the god. Hermes said that Odysseus would know who he was.
“Well, yeah, I do. But I didn’t think you would too,” he tried to reason, although his point fell flat. “You don’t think a lot,” they retorted. Before Odysseus could try to fire back, a sudden breeze blew in from the open balcony. Looking over, a certain god stood against the stone railing with a familiar grin. “If it isn’t my two favorite mortals! If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say I was the center of this discussion,” Hermes laughed, waltzing into the room. He ruffled Odysseus’ hair playfully before taking a stand next to Y/n.
“Hermes.” Odysseus brought a hand up to fix his hair. The god just laughed again, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulder to give them a side hug. The narrowing eyes of the soldier didn’t go unnoticed by Hermes, brightening his smile.
“Hey Hermes,” Y/n greeted warmly.
Odysseus didn’t enjoy seeing his best friend so cozied up with another person. Even if that other person was a god who saved his life multiple times and also his great-grandfather. An idea began forming in his mind to get rid of the situation. “Y/n, I think I remember seeing a show taking place in the city. You and I can go see it now before it finishes,” the king offered, casting a victorious grin to Hermes as Y/n gave their own smile. “That sounds cool! Yeah, we can go!” Y/n moved away from Hermes' hug as the two mortals took their leave. Once they left, Hermes frowned and took his own leave back to his previous tasks for Olympus. ~~~~~ It didn’t take long for a secret war to begin. Every moment, Y/n was in between two opposing sides. They were either with Odysseus one day and Hermes the next, or they were sitting in between both males who kept trying to one-up each other, which would eventually end in arguments.
“I mean honestly, darling, why spend your time with such a brute when you could have someone as divine as I?” “BRUTE?!”
“Really, Y/n, he’s the god of lies. If anything, his words mean nothing compared to mine.” “Your entire reputation is a lie.” “Well, I guess it’s just you and me, Y/n—” “Oh, please. That’s more of a stress than a privilege.” “Did you hear something, dahling? Why, I can’t seem to hear anything below FIVE FEET.” “OH HOW MATURE—” “IT IS!!”
This took place almost daily, and it acted as peak entertainment for Y/n. ~~~~~ Today, unlike any other, Y/n and Odysseus sat quietly in a familiar meadow. However, the king was being unnaturally quiet. Turning to face their friend, Y/n spoke up.
“Ody, are you alright?” Concern was clear in their voice as they waited patiently. Odysseus didn’t make any notice of hearing their words for a minute before he finally answered.
“You’re replacing me.”
Those words caught Y/n off guard. Odysseus was looking at the grassy field around them rather than meeting his companions eyes.
“What? No, I’m not. What makes you say that?” They furrowed their eyebrows in worry, anxious for his reasoning.
“You spend more time with him,” he hissed, speaking of the god like venom on his tongue.
“Well, maybe, but-”
“BUT NOTHING! I’m supposed to be your best friend! Me! Not him. It’s us against the world; we agreed on that years ago.” Odysseus turned to Y/n with a deep frown, his eyes showing unease. He had been betrayed time and time again before; he couldn’t risk losing another friend.
Y/n stayed silent, stunned by his sudden outburst. Odysseus just looked back to the meadow, shame filling his soul. After a few moments, Y/n regained their bearings as sympathy and guilt covered their features.
“Ody,” they called softly, but he continued to look away. "Ody, look at me.”
Reluctantly, he looked over to his friend.
“Ody, I could never replace you. You are woven into my soul like a grapevine. Why do you think I would break our pact?” They spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Odysseus sighed, looking back to the ground. He felt so stupid for assuming they would hurt him too.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled gently, looking at them out of the corner of his eyes.
“It’s alright; I would do the same if I were you. I forgive you,” Y/n smiled warmly to him, earning a hesitant smile back from him.
~~~~~
After this whole incident, Odysseus stopped arguing so much with Hermes. Sure, the mortal still gave the god a few half-hearted glares, but they eventually learned to share Y/n’s attention.
The trio sat calmly on the balcony of Odysseus’ room, waiting for Penelope to arrive for a nightly get-together. The sun sank slowly below the horizon, offering a charming glow to the city.
“So, darling, how’d you manage to get such a feral man to calm down?”
“FERAL?!”
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uwu-bxtch · 2 days ago
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||INHERITANCE ONE|| t.i.
CHAPTER SPECIFIC CONTENT :: SMUT, ino x reader centric, FWB!ino, granny trying to set us up with “fine young men”, ino is kinda a perv
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“miss, it’s not that i don’t enjoy conversing with you but, why did you call this meeting.”
two men in suits and a little old lady sit in a study. the woman sat at the head, shakily enjoying some tea as the two men watched her. the blonde was the first to speak, the brunette still pulling out supplies from his briefcase.
“nanami, relax a little. a young man like you shouldn’t be so uptight.”
her statement made the brunette chuckle a bit as he finally closed his briefcase. nanami’s face remained stoic, his right eyebrow twitched lightly. the old woman laughed before letting out a long sigh to continue the matter at hand.
“as you guys know, i’m getting old and i don’t want to stay in this big house anymore.”
“you want to sell?” nanami asks, getting ready to pull out financial papers. the old lady holds her hand up to stop him from rummaging through his files.
“no. hiromi, i want to write my will. i’m giving everything to my granddaughter.”
“everything? money, land, properties, even business ownership?” hiromi asks, clicking his pen and scribbling notes on a legal pad.
“mhm, all of it. i’ll call her and we can arrange a meeting for all the legal signatures; i just wanted to make you guys aware of my plans.”
hiromi continued to scribble on his pad, nanami ended up pulling out his laptop and started typing away.
“where would you go, miss?”
“i’m old and lonely, i want to go to a retirement home.”
nanami gave her a soft smile. “well, i’m sure you’ll pick the best one.”
“if you don’t mind me asking, why is this the first time we’re hearing of this granddaughter?” hiromi asks, eyes lifting from his paper.
“ah, well, she’s been through a lot and lives in the city. doesn’t get to visit often.” she says, a small smile appearing on her face as thoughts of you are appearing in her mind.
“oh you guys would love her, so beautiful and kind. reminds me of how i was at her age. she just won’t settle down, you know how you young people are. too focused on your careers to stop and smell the roses. i might have to set her up with one of you.”
the old woman sent the two men a smirk; nanami loudly cleared his throat while hiromi just let out another chuckle.
“i’m sure she’s lovely, we’ll be looking forward to seeing her at our next meeting.”
the two men stood up and went to either side of the woman, helping her up out of the chair. she led them to the front door, saying their goodbyes. she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before clicking your name.
___
“…and he didn’t even say th-thank you.” you pant, arching your back even further as you recount the hellish day you’ve had. the man underneath you hummed in acknowledgment, reaching up to play with your tit and give it a gentle squeeze.
you bite your lip, eyes rolling back as you continue to bounce in his cock. his other hand rests on the small of your back, firmly rubbing up and down and giving your ass a nice squeeze every so often.
“yeah? what else happened today?” ino asked, tone sweet as honey while absentmindedly rolling your nipple between his pointer and thumb. he looks at you like an adoring puppy as he watched your fucked out face contorting into various expressions of pleasure. his thick cock was hitting just the right spot, causing your legs to tremble every time you rise and fall.
“a-and then the printer broke.” the knot in your stomach gets tighter, making you squeeze your eyes shut and lean forward and rest your forehead on his. The sensation immediately making you forget why you were upset. you sit all the way down, his cock nuzzled all the way deep inside you as you gently grind.
“fuuuck, ino.” you moan. he lets out a low chuckle as he angles his head to kiss along your neck and down to your shoulder.
“you need some help, pretty?” ino asks, his other hand finally trailing down your back to rest on your asscheek. you can only moan in response as both his hands spread you open further and he gently lifts you halfway off his cock before slamming you back down.
his continuous jabs on your sweet spot make you dizzy as waves of pleasure rush through your body. his muscles flex while he bounces you up and down on his dick. the sound of skin slapping fills the room, mixed with your whines and his pants.
“that’s it, fuck, there you go.” ino grunts, hips stuttering a bit once he feels the sting of your nails gripping his bare shoulders. the slight pain sends shivers down his spine, his breath going ragged.
“yes! please, please, please, pl—” you practically chant before cutting yourself off with a high pitched moan, finally being pushed over the edge.
your pussy has a death grip on his cock as he slows down, letting you ride out your high. ino looks up at your worn out face, skin basically glistening from sweat, and moves one of his hands to the back of your head to pull you in for a gentle kiss.
all movements come to a slow stop, the both of you catching your breaths.
“where do you want it, sweets?” ino whispers, slowly pulling his hard dick out of your pussy. you let out a quiet whine at the empty feeling.
“wherever you want.”
he nods and leans in for another kiss before adjusting your positions. he gently lays you on your back as he hovers over you, knees on either side of your hips. he stares at you with hooded eyes, sitting on his heels and slowly stroking his cock.
“f-fuck, you’re so pretty ya’know?” he rambles as his hand continues to pump himself. still tired and barely recovering from an orgasm, all you can do is hum in response.
with every flick of his wrist, his grip tightens more as he reaches the tip. he bucks his hips as he takes some time to rub his thumb on his slit.
“o-oh shit. push them together for me, please.” he moans out, strokes going faster as he gets closer.
you raise your hands to your chest, pushing your tits together per his request. you look up at him with hooded eyes and the sight makes his dick twitch.
“you got this, c’mon, cum for me.” you coo at him, voice a little raspy from your moans.
“fuck, yes. i’m cumming, i’m cu—ah!”
his hot white seed shoots onto your tits as he continues to milk himself dry. he slowly comes to a stop, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. this time, he’s the one to lean down and press his forehead against yours.
he cups your cheek with one hand while his other hand travels to your breasts. he gathers his cum with his fingers and brings them up to your lips. opening your mouth at his silent request, he rests his cum covered fingers inside your mouth. you hum and suck around his fingers before he removes them to capture your lips with his own once more.
you both moan into the kiss, the taste of himself on your lips causing ino to shudder a bit.
a nice shower and some takeout later, the two of you sit on your couch, binging some trashy reality tv show. ino’s really into it, making you giggle at his exaggerated reactions after some particularly juicy drama happens.
“and that’s how you know he is trashy because why--” ino’s rant was interrupted by your loud ringtone.
“hello? hi granny, is everything okay?”
“hi sweetpea, everything is fine.”
“oh okay, what’s up?”
“i wanted to ask if you could visit sometime, i have some awfully great news.”
“a visit could fit into my schedule, what was the news?”
“i’m giving everything to you.”
“y-you’re what?”
“i’ll discuss more with you once you get here, please do so soon.”
before you could ask another question she hung up. you let out a shaky exhale, slowly turning to ino who had been staring at you the whole conversation.
“what happened?”
“i…i have to go to my grandmother’s place.” you mumbled, eyebrows slightly furrowed. you quickly stand to make your way to the room, puling out a suitcase once you make it to your closet.
“is she okay?” he asks, standing up to follow you.
“yeah, it’s just that she said she’s giving me everything.”
your back is to him as you throw clothes into the suitcase. ino stands at the door, watching u with confusion in his eyes.
“when are you leaving? are you going to come back?” he asks, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of your bed.
you pause for a bit, cursing under your breath. this is too much all at once, you were barely able to process what she said before she hung up. you turn to ino, dropping some clothes into the suitcase.
“i’m going there this weekend to see what’s up. i’m not sure when i’ll be back, don’t wait for me.”
ino’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean don’t wait?”
“i’m not sure what my granny has planned, but i don’t wanna keep you hanging if i end up staying. you should find someone else to see.”
“are you sure, because i ca—” you interrupt him with a hand in his face, sitting next to him on the edge.
“i’m sure there’s tons of other women just waiting to get piped by you, don’t let them wait because of me.” you say, jokingly elbowing him. he let out a chuckle.
“okay, well if you need anything you have my number. i’m serious.”
you nod while laughing. “do you mind helping me pack?” ino nodded and shot straight up.
“only if i get to keep a pair of your panties, you know, for memories.”
you playfully roll your eyes as you stood up. “sure, whatever, you freak.”
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a/n :: this is for THE ino fan ever, @inciseleviathan , i hoped yall enjoy. i’m trying to get more consistent with posts i swear. this series kinda means the world to me so please treat her nicely 😩no smut in the next chapter but we’ll meet more characters.
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Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 19/?
Can I offer everyone some distraction and escape tonight? If you have sent a prompt to my inbox, I will get on those tonight and tomorrow. Just wanted to get a longer offering up as well. It's going to get worse before it ever gets better. Do what you have to do to stay safe, and try to do good where you can. I pray for better days ahead.
Pairing: Buck/Tommy
Vampire/Witch!AU
Read on AO3
From the moment Tommy’s coven master stepped into the house, Evan could tell he was powerful.
Not as powerful as Tommy. Not as old as Tommy, either…but definitely not a new vampire. Something about the way he carried himself gave Evan the impression that he was used to being listened to. Obeyed. His dark eyes zeroed in on Evan as he made his way to Tommy’s living room, and even with no fangs visible, Evan absolutely received the message that this man would neither hesitate to kill him, nor feel an ounce of guilt over it. It should have been terrifying. And make no mistake, Evan was wary.
But he wasn’t afraid.
His magic hummed in the back of his mind, strong and ready to use to defend himself. Even if he had not recovered from the effects of using the teleport spell, though…Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him.
The knowledge settled in his mind, startling in its surety. Its absoluteness. Tommy wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Evan knew that.
He did not know how he knew that, or why it felt like such an immutable, inarguable fact. It was an insane thought to have. Sure, Tommy had put himself between Evan and danger several times already, but what possible reason could Evan have for thinking that he’d continue to do so? Against his own coven master, no less? He didn’t have one…and yet he was so completely confident in the belief that he met the vampire’s eyes squarely, his magic swirling contentedly through his body.
He listened as Tommy argued back and forth with his coven master, tensing as Alonzo revealed that the vampires were already spreading rumors about what had happened in Greenway’s office. He’d known in the back of his mind that the men who’d attacked them weren’t likely to just ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again…but the high coven had seemed the larger threat.
He couldn’t even really blame this Alonzo person for asking Tommy to get rid of him, to turn him over to the high coven and just cut his losses. Hadn’t Evan been begging Tommy to do just that before Alonzo appeared? It was the smart play—the only play that could possibly keep Tommy and his coven out of this.
God, he wanted to give Tommy a way out of this.
“I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”
“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason. Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”
Evan ignored Alonzo, staring at Tommy as he seemed to consider their words. He wasn’t sure how this whole mess was going to end. He hoped Grant and her coven could find what they needed to in time to avoid a coven war…but Evan knew better than most the kinds of things that powerful covens could get away with when they wanted to. He wasn’t terribly confident. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to give them the chance.
He thought Tommy felt the same way. Like everything else about the vampire, it seemed a ridiculous thought to have. Three days ago, would have laughed out loud at the idea that a vampire could care about innocent people dying in a coven war. But he’d seen firsthand how much Tommy cared about his coven. Despite the horrible way they’d come into each other’s lives, Tommy had been nothing but honest with him. Honorable. Kind.
Protective.
He wasn’t an idiot. And he wasn’t naïve. Tommy had killed people. More people than Evan could probably conceive of, given how old he was. But Evan didn’t think the vampire was faking the disgust he seemed to feel for the wanton violence and cruelty of the party he’d rescued Evan from. He didn’t think Tommy was faking his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the city. Something inside Evan told him that Tommy wanted to stop what was coming just as much as Evan did.
The difference was, if Evan died in this storm they’d somehow entered into, the collateral damage would be minimal.
Sally had cut ties with him.
His parents had never cared for him to begin with.
Maddie probably thought he was already dead…or had abandoned her.
There was no one left to care if he died, but Tommy had a whole coven who would mourn him. Hell, Evan had interacted with them for less than two hours, but he could tell how close Tommy was with the two vampires who had come to the loft. There was no reason for Tommy to go down this road with him when there were so many people who would be hurt if Tommy got himself killed. He knew Tommy wouldn’t stand for just turning Evan over to the high coven, but letting him go and then taking a story about Evan casting a compulsion over Tommy to them was the absolute best move that Tommy could make. For his coven. For himself.
“I can’t do that.” The vampire’s voice was clear. Steady. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the words. Tommy’s eyes bored relentlessly into his, his back ramrod straight as he refused, refused the out Evan was offering him. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”
And…what? Evan startled, barely managing to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. Wait—wait, no, he couldn’t have heard that correctly. That made no sense. That was—
“Thomas, are you insane? You can’t be serious!” Tommy’s coven master sounded as shocked as Evan felt, the cool, calm demeanor he’d been affecting since he entered the bungalow cracking.
He started to pace back and forth, his movements quick and agitated, and Evan tucked one hand behind his back, clenching his fist and focusing on his magic the way Sally had taught him, drawing it tightly inwards, ready to spring forth at his command. No witch was powerful enough to cast without the structure of a spell…but thanks to Sally’s lessons, Evan could cast faster than most.
Tommy stepped deliberately between them, facing his coven master, and Evan felt a flush of warmth he couldn’t even try to deny. Alonzo’s next words, though, were like a bucket of ice water being poured straight down Evan’s spine.
“If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”
He gasped. He knew he gasped, the soft, breathy sound of it punching out of him entirely without his permission. No. No, Alonzo couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And even if he was, there was no way that Tommy would—
“Exactly,” Tommy said. His voice was still so steady, so sure. As though he was talking about something as minor as changing the paint color in his living room or what he might make for dinner and not…not…
Tommy and his coven master continued speaking, but Evan couldn’t make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He felt frozen, stopped, his mind swarming with memories and feelings that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to examine in years. The blood pounded in his head, his focus on his magic splintering. No. No, Tommy couldn’t—he wouldn’t…
“Thomas. You’ll be convenless.”
“I’ve been covenless before.”
Covenless. There were a thousand other meanings for that word, and Evan had lived every one for the last five years.
To be covenless was to be nothing. Less than nothing. When Evan had been banished from his coven, he’d lost everything. His home, his family, his familiar. His future. His identity. Everything that made him who he was had been stripped from him, and he’d been left to rebuild himself from fucking scratch…only he’d never be able to. Not really.
To be covenless was to be alone. Completely alone. Unwelcome in every corner of the world you’d thought would be yours forever, unwanted and uncared for. Evan had lost his coven bonds and he’d become a ghost. He’d lost everything when he lost his coven. How could Tommy just give it up?
Why…why would he do something like that for him?
Evan watched in frozen, horrified silence as Tommy did it. Severed himself from his coven. Turned his back on his home, his family, the people he cared for…for Evan. He listened to the oddly formal words—completely devoid of the power that he’d felt when the Pennsylvania high coven handed down his sentence, and yet somehow just as heavy. Just as important. Some part of him tried to remind himself that Tommy had said vampire covens didn’t function the way witch covens did. Vampire covens were alliances, not bonds that were formed in blood and magic…but it didn’t matter. Tommy was giving up his coven. For him.
To protect him. He’d said it. He’d said he wasn’t going to leave Evan to face this storm alone.
It was impossible. It was irrational. It made absolutely no sense. He was watching it with his own eyes, and he didn’t understand. He’d given himself up for Maddie. He’d sacrificed everything he ever was or ever would be to keep her safe, to make sure that she didn’t suffer for what she had to do to set herself free from Doug. He hadn’t set out to lose his coven because of it, he’d just known it was a likely outcome. Had Tommy known he was going to do this when his coven master walked through the door? Had he looked at the situation the way Evan had all those years ago, his sister’s heartwrenching sobs ringing in his ears as they stood over Doug’s still body, and made the same choice Evan had in that moment? How? How?
It had been an easy sacrifice for him to make for Maddie. Losing his coven had been the hardest thing he’d ever experienced or ever would experience, but it had been worth it to save his sister. Keep her safe. Protect her.
But…but he loved Maddie. Loved her more than anything else in the world, loved her more than he loved himself.
What motivation did Tommy have to give up his coven for Evan?
Tommy was still for a long moment after his coven master–fuck, his ex coven master, what had he done?—left the bungalow. Evan listened to the sound of the vampire's car start up, still feeling like he'd been encased in a block of ice. Tommy's shoulders slumped slightly as the sound of the car faded down the driveway, growing more and more distant, and he cracked his neck a couple times before turning to look at Evan.
Evan didn't know what his face looked like, but Tommy's immediately softened. It was almost unbearable to watch…Tommy had just made himself covenless, how could he have room to feel sympathy for Evan?
“Evan, remember. Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me,” he said, and his voice was so, so gentle.
As if Evan was the one who needed to be handled carefully, as though Evan was the one hurting. Because he was hurting. Evan knew that without a doubt, knew it the same way he’d known that Tommy wouldn’t let his coven master hurt him—it was a quiet certainty, a solid as stone beneath his feet. He felt suddenly sick, too hot and too cold at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest, his magic thrumming through him insistently, and he shook his head.
“Why…” He broke off, suddenly unable to meet Tommy’s eyes, and swallowed hard. “Why did you do that?” he managed to choke out, his voice sounding alien to his own ears.
Tommy tilted his head slightly, a stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of him. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he said, as though that were an actual reason to leave his coven, to voluntarily give it up.
Evan shook his head again, his head still spinning. “That doesn’t make sense!” he burst out. “Tommy, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”
Infuriatingly, Tommy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he reached up to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder. There was no heat from the touch, of course, and yet Evan swore he could feel the shape of Tommy’s hand on him like a brand. His magic sparked through him, swirling in his chest like champagne bubbles. “I’ve heard that before, Evan. Hasn’t happened, yet,” he said.
“It’s not worth it,” Evan said.
Losing your coven isn’t worth it, Evan meant.
I’m not worth it, Evan meant.
Tommy’s hand loosened briefly, his fingers twitching like he wanted to move them. For a few heartbeats, Evan had the bizarre sense that Tommy was restraining himself from reaching up, brushing the skin of Evan’s throat, skating his fingers higher and higher to touch Evan’s face. Even more bizarre was the pulse of disappointment when Tommy merely patted his shoulder and stepped back, a strange expression twisting his features.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the vampire said. “Now…are you ready to start this snipe hunt?”
*
“How worried do we have to be about one of those locator spells?” Tommy asked as he guided the SUV onto the highway, heading for the address that his friend Chimney had provided.
Evan blinked, startled out of thoughts that would not stop racing in circles no matter how hard he tried. He was glad for the new topic to focus on, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window. “Depends. If your, uh, if Alonzo lets the high coven have some of your stuff when he talks to them, it could be a problem. If it’s something you’re really attached to.” He opened his eyes and shot Tommy a sidelong glance. “Do you have a lot of things at your coven house?” he asked quietly.
Tommy chuckled, not taking his eyes off the road. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but he didn’t seem especially upset. “Some. Not as much as you might think someone could collect over eight hundred years. I’ve never really cared about things. Most of what I really give a shit about, I keep at the bungalow. But I can text Sal and Lucy and tell them to hide a few other things at the coven house.”
Evan nodded to himself. “We should have a day or two before it even becomes an issue—and they might not think it’s worth it. It’d be hard to hold a locator spell on a vampire. Most of our really complicated magic doesn’t work so great on you.”
Tommy made a curious hum. “Why’s that?”
Evan shrugged. “No one really knows. Probably for the same reason that you can’t turn witches.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I can cast a charm that’ll let me know if someone’s trying to spell you,” he offered after a moment. “And disrupt it.”
“Will it be a drain on you? I’d rather you save your strength for when we run into trouble.”
“A disruption? Yeah, that’d be hard for me to keep up for very long…but the alert charm is simple. Sa—someone taught it to me when I was a kid, to help me channel my intentions in a spell. Those kinds of things, losing my coven bond doesn’t really, uh, doesn’t really affect me that much,” he finished quietly. “But it’s still a spell. I, I, I get it if you don’t want me casting anything on you.”
Tommy was silent for a long moment, before he said quietly, “I trust you, Evan. Do I need to pull over?”
“Wait, not? You want me to cast it now?” Evan blinked, the calm certainty in Tommy’s voice when he said he trusted him catching him off-guard. Tommy shrugged one shoulder.
“Might as well. I don’t want to risk getting distracted later—and any advantage we can get is worth taking.”
“Um, okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Uh, no, it—you won’t feel anything. Maybe like, a tingle? But it won’t hurt or anything. I can do it while you’re driving.” He pressed his lips together, considering. “Can I have your hand?”
Tommy startled a little at that, shooting him a quick, bemused look. “Sure?” he said, stretching one hand out toward Evan.
Evan took it, cradling it in his palms and resting two fingers on where Tommy’s pulsepoint should be in his wrist. It was odd not to feel the beat of life underneath his fingers, to trace skin that was oddly cool, blue veins standing out more starkly than he was used to. He leaned over Tommy’s hand and started chanting, his magic all but leaping to his fingertips as he murmured the familiar spell. Tommy kept his eyes on the road, but Evan could sense him shooting quick little looks his way, even as he held his hand trustingly still.
It was strangely intimate. The thought skipped through Evan’s head and was gone as he felt the spell building, his hands beginning to glow with the white light of a witch’s power. He breathed out the last words of the spell and pressed the magic gently into the skin of Tommy’s wrist, a sigil glowing briefly before fading to near invisibility. Tommy shivered as the sigil sunk in, his fingers flexing, but he held still until the light of Evan’s magic faded. Moving slowly—almost reluctantly?—he slipped his hand from Evan’s grasp and looked at the inside of his wrist, his eyebrow twitching upwards minutely.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“That’s it,” Evan confirmed, settling back in his seat and going back to staring out the window. “If anyone tries to cast on you, I’ll know.”
“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said.
Evan nodded silently, watching the LA scenery fly past the window as Tommy sped towards Greenway’s house. He felt like his brain was spinning as fast as the tires, too much happening for him to really get a grasp on it. He needed to. He couldn’t afford to be spiraling with them potentially heading into a hostile situation. Everything—his confusion and disbelief and, yes, all right, his guilt over Tommy giving up his coven, his worry about what they were walking into, his fear for what could happen in this city if they failed, he had to let it all go. He could almost hear Sally’s voice in his head, chidingly reminding him that he needed to stay focused.
Find an anchor, little love. A single thing to concentrate on and hold onto that, no matter what.
Good advice…but advice he’d struggled to take all his life. He looked over at Tommy again, taking in his profile as he tried to read his stoic expression, tried to figure out what might be running through the vampire’s head. Tommy said he trusted him. After knowing him only a couple of days, Tommy was willing to take risks for him that he wouldn’t have asked of anyone in his coven except maybe Maddie. Had made sacrifices for him that Evan knew down to the marrow of his bones his own parents would never have made. Tommy said he trusted him.
Evan breathed out slowly, his magic ebbing through him in time to his heartbeat. In the face of everything, he let the simple truth that had been trying to form in his mind since Tommy had given up his place in his coven to protect Evan wash over him. He trusted Tommy, too. And that was what he was going to hold onto, no matter what.
*
Jonah Greenway had lived on a surprisingly quiet street in a small, nondescript house that was neither especially nice nor especially run-down. Tommy took a couple of laps around the block in the SUV, trying to scout if there was anybody already there. Evan had been slightly worried that the place would already have been under a police investigation, but credit where credit was due—the SoCal high coven was very good at keeping their world secret.
“Looks clear,” Tommy muttered after the third lap around the block. They’d stopped a few intersections and pulled into and reversed out of a couple of driveways to hopefully make it look as though they were just lost to any nosy neighbors who might notice a large SUV with heavily tinted windows. He pulled to a stop about a block down the street from Greenway’s house.
“Wait—how are we getting you in there?” Evan asked, tipping his head towards the window…and the sun-drenched street outside it. It would have been easier to wait ‘til at least dusk to leave the bungalow, but the need to give Grant and her coven enough time to do their own investigations created a sense of urgency that would not be ignored.
“I can take sunlight for a few minutes,” Tommy said, frowning distastefully and twisting in his seat to dis around in the floor behind him. He sat up a moment later with a large black hoodie and pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the pockets. “Although no offense, I’m gonna walk a hell of a lot faster than you.”
“Dressed like the villain in an after-school special?” Evan asked dubiously, his eyebrow climbing when Tommy pulled his sun visor down and grabbed a large pair of sunglasses clipped to the edge. “Really?”
“If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to avoid the third-degree sunburn I’m about to get.”
Evan debated a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh and poking at the edges of his magic, feeling out the strength. Then he turned in his own seat, staring hard out the back windshield at the corner of Greenway’s house that was visible. There was a decently-sized porch with a roof, and Evan knew any witch worth his salt would have had look-away charms on his house, though they might have lost power when Greenway died. Still, if that was the case, then any hexes or traps he’d laid on the property would also be defunct, and Tommy would be able to break into the place quickly. Evan felt confident he could handle any hexes that were still active, and short out an alarm system fast enough that it would register as a glitch.
“Try not to move, okay?” he said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s wrist as he focused on the corner of the porch he could see, and chanted the spell.
His ears popped, the whole world going quiet and shadowy, sound muffling almost to the point that he was enveloped in silence. The air around him turned absolutely freezing, colder than any Pennsylvania winter, and as the spell ended he couldn’t help coughing. Beside him, he heard Tommy gasp something in a language he didn’t recognize—though by the tone, he could tell it wasn’t polite—and the vampire scrambled to his feet, his wrist twisting under Evan’s to grab at his hand and yank him to his feet as well.
They were standing on Greenway’s porch, well-shaded from the afternoon sunlight.
“What the hell?! What did you do?” Tommy demanded, looking around him in shock. “That wasn’t the same thing you did at the office!”
Evan laughed shortly, pulling away so he could examine the door in front of them. The fact that no defense spells had triggered when they appeared on the porch was encouraging, but he wasn’t going to just take it on faith that Greenway didn’t have something more powerful than simple charms and hexes waiting. “No—a teleport is major magic even when you have a coven bond. I’m not risking that unless there’s no other choice. I took us through the between.” He reached out and let his hand hover over the doorknob, unable to feel the telltale tingle of magic against his skin.
“The…wasn’t that where Greenway hid the flash drive?”
“Yup.”
“And you can…go…there?” Tommy continued slowly.
“If you know how. Most of us just use it like Greenway did. Like a hiding place. Kind of a magical safe-deposit box? But the between is as big or small as you know it is, and it exists wherever you know it will. So, if you know it’s big enough to fit you, and you know it exists where you want to be, you can get to it.”
“That—okay, that actually makes a weird sort of sense and explains a couple of encounters I’ve had over the years. I haven’t met any witch who could do something like that in a century or two, though.”
Evan shrugged, still examining the door. “Not a lot of us can, anymore. It’s old magic. Like, old-fashioned magic, not, uh, not old as in ancient. It’s easy to get lost in, so it’s not like it’s in the normal, everyday lessons. Sally only taught me because—” He broke off, his brain catching up with the amount of private information his mouth was just casually giving away.
Tommy was silent for a moment. “Sally was your familiar?” he asked gently.
Evan clenched his jaw, before nodding quickly. “I don’t think there’s any kind of spell on the door,” he said. Thankfully, Tommy accepted the abrupt subject change, stepping around Evan to grip the doorknob and give the door a fast, almost casual shove with his shoulder. The deadbolt snapped in an instant, and Tommy stepped back to interpose himself between Evan and anything that might be waiting for them inside.
Only silence greeted them, however.
Tommy cocked his head, listening intently, before his shoulders relaxed. “It’s empty,” he said. “But stay close.” He stepped inside the darkened interior of Greenway’s house. Evan took a deep breath and followed, his eyes roving over his surroundings curiously.
The house was surprisingly…sterile. It had all the trappings of a home—comfortable furniture, plush carpets on the floors, bookshelves full of books and mementos, art hanging on the walls. Yet, the place felt cold to Evan. There was none of the warmth and character of Tommy’s bungalow. The place felt like a showroom or a magazine cover. Everything perfectly chosen and placed to present a picture that it just…wasn’t.
It felt, he reflected wryly, like the house he had grown up in.
“Howie and Grant already searched the place for anything useful, but the high coven hasn’t gotten here yet. We need them to think we’re looking for something, get them to waste resources trying to find it first. Toss the place?” Tommy asked, glancing back at Evan with a questioning look. Evan shrugged, turning a slow circle in the large, open-plan living space that took up most of the first floor. Something felt…off.
“They really didn’t find anything?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.
“Nada,” Tommy confirmed, watching as Evan looked all around him. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, I just…there’s something…” he trailed off, the frustratingly feeling of something just out of his reach dancing at the edge of his senses. His eyes fell on a mirror propped up in the corner of a set of recessed bookshelves that had been built into the walls on either side of a large picture window in what Greenway had set up as his living room. Directly in front of the window was a large, ornate wooden writing desk. Evan tilted his head and followed the line of where the mirror was facing…to another mirror mounted on the wall by the stairs to the second story. The mirror was positioned oddly, slightly off-center of where Evan would expect it to be, just enough to look a little wonky. In fact, if he stood in front of that mirror and followed the line of where it was facing, he would find…
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Evan muttered.
“What?” Tommy demanded immediately.
In answer, Evan spun another slow circle in the center of the room, tracing the sightlines of multiple mirrors positioned all around the room. That was what he was feeling. He hadn’t quite shaken the chill of the between from his senses, after all…and there was quite a lot of the between in this room.
“He hid something else here,” Evan said, finding the mirror that was positioned in the northernmost part of the room and pacing away from it until he was as close to the center of where the sight lines of all five of the mirrors around the living space met as he could get. “Fucking smart bastard, I’ll give him that.”
“Evan, what are you talking about? I’m pretty sure Howie and Grant would have known to look in this between place.”
“Yeah, but they might not have realized how big the between is here,” Evan countered. “Like I said…it’s not something a lot of witches learn anymore.”
Tommy tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked curious, though, not dismissive. “You keep talking like the size of it can change. Isn’t space…you know, space? Like there have to be boundaries.”
“Ever been in one of those house of mirrors they do at fairs and theme parks?” Evan asked, centering himself and focusing hard. He murmured the appropriate spell and reached toward the desk, the way he had in the office building to find the flash drive. The way he’d—sort of, it was a little more complicated than he’d explained to Tommy—done to get them from the car to the porch to avoid the sunlight. Only this time, he reached further into the between. Through all the layers of it that Greenway had folded it upon itself, over and over, until only a witch or familiar who regularly used it to shift themselves through space and not just store and hide things in would have even realized there was that much of it to explore in this house.
Evan did not travel through the between regularly. It was not something that witches did anymore, the dangers of getting lost too great. But he had been very carefully trained by someone who had learned the art in times when it had been a valuable tool for survival.
His hand closed on something in the between, and he curled his fingers around it and yanked. There was a soft pop in the air, and when he looked at the empty desk again, there was a small, leatherbound ledger sitting innocuously in the center of it. “Gotcha,” he hissed. He hurried forward and scooped the ledger off the desk, pulling at the bands of elastic that bound it at each corner.
“Great work Ev—GET DOWN!” Tommy’s voice changed in a flash, rising to a bellow as he lunged at Evan. Between one breath and the next, Tommy had made it across the room and wrapped himself around Evan, pulling Evan tight against his chest and spinning them around so that Tommy’s back was to the window.
There was a loud sound of shattering glass.
The clatter of something hitting the desk.
And then the whole world around Evan exploded into a mass of light. And sound. And force.
Evan felt himself lifted off his feet, flung across the room. Tommy’s body was wrapped tight around him, the vampire’s arms shielding him protectively, his face pressed hard against Tommy’s throat. They hit the floor hard enough that the breath was knocked from Evan’s lungs, but he was still dimly aware of Tommy taking the brunt of the landing, rolling them with the momentum, one hand cradling the back of Evan’s head and keeping it from cracking on the hardwood floors as they came to a rolling halt.
Evan coughed, everything spinning around him in dizzying circles, his ears ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. His whole body hurt, and when he pulled his head back from Tommy’s neck, the room was suddenly hazy with smoke. What…what had—
“Tommy?” he gasped, when the vampire made no move to let go, to get up. “Tommy, what—”
He could hardly hear his own voice, though he knew he was shouting. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder, more relief than he was willing to examine at the moment sweeping through him when he felt the vampire’s muscles bunch under his touch, felt Tommy shudder and start to struggle to get up. Something was wrong, though.
His vampire was moving too slowly, too sluggishly. When Evan blinked some of the hazy smoke out of his eyes, Tommy’s face—mere inches from his own—was twisted in a grimace of pain. Something hard pressed into the top of Evan’s abdomen, right under his breastbone, and he slowly became aware of a hot wetness seeping into his borrowed shirt. Gasping, he wrenched himself backwards enough so he could look down, a buzzing that had nothing to do with his ringing ears filling his head when his eyes focused on the massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that was poking into his chest.
The massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that had impaled Tommy through the back, gone clear through his body.
“Tommy! Tommy, what—”
“Evan…run,” his vampire managed to grit out, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.
“Aw come on Kinard. Let the witch stay.”
Evan’s heart sank, his eyes flying to the gaping hole where Greenway’s front window had been only seconds before. The blond vampire from the office building was clambering through the jagged opening, flanked by two other vampires that Evan hadn’t seen before. They were covered head to toe in the same getup that Tommy had been going to try to use to get across the sunny street—hoodies, gloves, long pants—but every inch of exposed skin was blistered and peeling, obviously burned by even what short exposure they’d had to the sun.
Blondie pulled his hood back, glaring at Evan and Tommy, a nasty smirk firmly in place on his face. Evan’s eyes flicked between the three of them as Tommy tried to push at his shoulder, still struggling to get his feet under him, even as more blood spurted out from around the piece of fucking shrapnel sprouting out of his chest.
Tommy was hurt. Badly.
The vampire who had protected him over and over, even when it made no logical sense for him to do so. The vampire who had been kinder and gentler to him over the past two days than any one of his own kind had been over the past five years. His vampire, who had refused to let Evan walk into danger alone.
His vampire, who had given up his own coven to stay by Evan’s side, against odds that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. His vampire.
Evan curled his arm protectively over Tommy’s back and reached for every drop of magic in his body, the most dangerous spell Sally had ever taught him fairly exploding out of him in a rush of power.
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icepip · 2 days ago
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͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏on goodbyes.
i've been thinking about this for a while and it feels like the right choice for me, but i'm going to be leaving this blog and probably writing in general. i just don't feel happy anymore and that joy that i used to experience being here has shifted into guilt and leads me into depression.
it feels a bit silly to write this all out in all honesty, but i hate the idea of never explaining my absence. similar to my old blog, icepip will stay up as an archive so that what i've posted isn't lost, but it won't be updated anymore. i apologize for all the asks i've left unanswered, for all the stories i said i would write and share. it wasn't my intention but i simply can't continue to write.
i've never thought that i was good at writing but the need to express my ideas outweighed that lack of confidence. i wrote because i thought my ideas were worth sharing, even if it didn't sound the best. now, the scales have shifted too much and i can't find the drive to even try to put words on the screen. i just get stressed and upset and convince myself that it's not worth it. and that has gotten far too tiring for me to deal with.
logging in and seeing my mutuals and others i follow post and write and share, it fills me with such guilt that i can't be like that, too. i don't have the energy to read, i don't have the energy to engage. instead of getting inspired by others like i used to, i find myself slipping into depressive spirals.
i truly wish that i could write or even just simply exist here but it hurts to try to. i hope one day, i'll be proven wrong and i can come back, that the idea of being here doesn't make me want to cry. that i'll be able to write and share again. but i'm not going to hold my breath for it. i know myself too well, i know i give up and move on far too easily and i fear that this is what's happening now.
but thank you to everyone who was nice to me. who supported me and commented and reblogged my posts. who sent asks and engaged with me. thank you for bringing me joy and making me feel like i belonged. i truly, truly, appreciate everything you did.
and i'm sorry for everything i left unfinished, but i hope that if you followed me — whether for a short or a long time — that you enjoyed your time here. maybe one day our paths will cross again.
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cellythefloshie · 8 hours ago
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;; I Did Something Bad Dedicated to @hockeyboysimagines
Summary: After you send a sexy snap to the wrong Brady, you and your stepbrother cross a line that you had never considered crossing before. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (18 vs. 22). Stepcest. Phone Sex/Sexting. Praise. Mutual Masturbation. Protective Big Brother. Reader Nickname: "Sissy". PLEASE NOTE, this work of fiction depicts a budding sexual relationship between step-siblings who grew up together from ages 10 and 14 - step-siblings who always considered one another siblings. -- Set during Brady's time as a New York Ranger. Word Count: 4k+ A/N: Happy Birthday to the lovely @hockeyboysimagines ! You have been the best worst influence for me as a writer, always encouraging me to write what I want to write instead of what I should be working on. And you very well know October was meant to be spent with the filthiest of Brady Skjei content. This is very much the tip of the iceberg for Brady and his stepsister, and I couldn't be more thrilled to get the two of them going because of your birthday. This fic is in no way groundbreaking, but it's filthy and fun and maybe even a little toxic. But if I know someone who is going to appreciate it for their birthday, it's you! AND a quick little shout out to @hagelpoint-3821 who was around when my filthy mind birthed this idea probably 2 years ago now! It's finally happening!
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“Do you always think of me when you touch yourself?”
Your blood ran cold. You recognized the voice in an instant, and it wasn't the one you expected to hear when you answered the phone. And it was nowhere near anything you thought would leave your stepbrother's mouth. 
His words sent a rush of heat surging through you. It sent your skin red hot with embarrassment as you lay in bed, one hand still in your panties and the other holding the phone to your ear so tightly your hand ached. You wished the embarrassment could have been for him. That he had somehow dialed the wrong number. That he meant to dial whichever slut he had in whichever city he was in for the night. But that was just a dream of a possibility, because he knew exactly what he was doing when he phoned you. 
Silently, you drew your phone back from your face, a quivering breath trembling through your body as you opened Snapchat on your phone and looked at your last sent messages. At the top of the list was Brady, the red and white arrow beside his name showing you the last message sent to him was minutes ago. And just below him, the intended recipient of your message, Braedy. He was an idiot you’d met in the back row of your first year psychology class. You’d exchanged numbers on the first day, which led to helping him with assignments while he helped you with orgasms. But while he was in his dorm room across campus, rock hard and waiting for your next risque picture, you lay still in bed with your stepbrother on the other end of the phone. 
Swallowing hard, in an attempt to moisten your dry mouth, you accepted that the silence had been too long to pretend that you hadn’t accidentally sent him a picture of your hand in your panties. 
“I-” you started, but you formed no words. Anything you could have thought to say became strangled in your throat.  "Sissy, was that picture not meant for me?" Brady asked, saving you from the need to provide him with some sort of explanation, but it didn't make you feel any better. Your heart continued to pound against your chest as it flooded with panic and embarrassment.
“No, I, ah-” you breathed, your attempt at words more of a stutter than the beginnings of an explanation. 
“And I thought you were being a good girl-” your core clenched “-focusing on your studies on campus. I don’t have to come down there and check in on you, do I?”
You shook your head slowly as if he could see it, your hair becoming a mess on your pillow. Your breathing was shallow and uneven, your body hot and sweaty even as you lay there in nothing but a cropped t-shirt and your panties. Panties that your hand had yet you leave and your crotch was still damp with arousal from the brief exchange of photos before Brady’s interruption. An interruption that should have dried you up like a desert. Yet, you were just as wet as when you answered the call, if not wetter. 
“Are you still there, sissy?” It was only with his words that you realized he couldn’t see your response. 
“No, I-” your throat caught your words as you fumbled with what exactly to say. Brady’s words were so calm, sounding cautious and thought out, while your mind was so frantic you couldn’t even think of the right words to say. 
“I’m still here,” you confirmed with a breath, “and no, you don’t need to check on me.” 
“I’ll be in the area next week,” he hummed slowly, and your eyes darted to the calendar that was on your bedside table. The Rangers would play in Minnesota soon, and while you were sure the team wouldn’t give him time to come visit you on campus, Brady never seemed to fail at scaring any prospecting partners away. It was the big-brother thing to do, or at least that’s always what you guys told yourselves. But as he spoke with his words so thought out as if he was trying to tiptoe through the situation with caution, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was and had always been a little more than that. 
“No, no,” you protested, “I’ll be good.”
“Will you?” Brady challenged. “Be a good girl and block that boy for me.”
“Brady-”
“Do it and show me.” The firmness of his voice sent a wave of heat through you. There would be no fighting him on this, so you obliged.
Slowly, your hand left your panties, the elastic waistband snapping against your hip before you brought your now freed hand up to your phone. You cradled the phone in both hands as you turned on the screen recording and captured blocking your classmate, Braedy, on Snapchat and his phone number. Then you sent the video to your stepbrother, Brady. 
“Good girl,” he praised you, “keep it that way, alright, Sissy. No distractions. Promise.”
“I promise,” you breathed out, though you were fully entertaining the idea of unblocking Braedy as soon as this awkward phone call was over. What Brady didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, or you. 
“Good girl,” he said again, your body reacting the same to his soft praise, and it nearly left you reeling against your pillow. You shouldn’t be feeling that way, especially with Brady on the phone. Yet, you forced out a quivering breath and chalked it up to coincidence and the poor timing of his call. “Are you in bed?” he asked you slowly. 
“Yes,” you confirmed. 
“Wearing those pretty little panties?”
You lay there in the same silence that had consumed you when you had heard his voice when you had answered the call. Had you just heard him right, or was your mind playing tricks on you? Or maybe, just maybe, you had fallen asleep watching shitty pornography, and this was all just a dream. 
You pinched yourself. 
No, not a dream. 
You had accidentally sent your stepbrother a suggestive photo, and now he was what, trying to have phone sex with you? It didn’t make sense, but did all at once.
The two of you had always been close, even if your parents hadn’t married until you were 10 and he was 14. He had snapped into your life so perfectly. Brady was the big brother you had always wanted. From helping you with your homework, to attending both his high school football games and his hockey games, too. The two of you did it all together. Even when he was off to college, you were there supporting him, counting down the days until you too would attend the same university in his footsteps. And then there were the jokes, made by your own parents, that if the two of you weren’t siblings, the two of you would get married. It was always a joke, one that both you and Brady had laughed at - but it was all coming to crest now. Had the joke always been funny because it was true?
The two of you just never admitted it - or fully entertained the idea - until you had forced it all by accident. 
Biting down on your lip, you chewed it slowly as you took in a slow breath. You had a decision to make, and the weight of it rested heavily on your chest. You could answer him, paint a sexy little picture for him with your words, or you could hang up. 
“Brady,” his name was weak on your lips, your tongue darting out to run over your lips slowly. 
“Sorry,” he spoke quickly, “I can hang up. We can pretend this didn’t happen-”
“No, don’t,” you spoke out too quickly as you shot up in bed, “don’t hang up.” 
He replied with nothing but a soft sigh, one that sounded like a smile and relief. 
Slowly, you pressed up onto your knees, your thighs pressing firmly together to ease the tension that continued to build throughout your body. One hand left your phone and tucked your hair behind your ears and out of your face before falling to rest on the top of your thighs. “Where are you right now?” 
“My hotel room in Detroit,” he answered slowly. 
You swallowed hard. “Alone?”
Brady hummed his confirmation into the phone, sparking a sense of excitement into you. “Maybe,” your lips curled up into a soft smile as you spoke, “I could send you another picture. Would that be wrong?”
Yes. Yes, it would. But he didn’t stop you. Instead, Brady encouraged you. “Wrong? No. It’s just a picture, right?” You weren't sure if he was trying to convince you, or if he was trying to convince himself that what you were about to do was okay. 
His words made you giddy when they should have. And with a stupid smile, your phone left your ear as you positioned yourself on the bed. You knelt there with your legs slightly spread so he could have a clear view of your panties. Snapping the picture, you wrinkled your nose at the outcome. You didn’t like it. You posed again after fixing your shirt just right to show off just the right amount of under-boob in the next picture. It was great, but there was one issue: you could see your face. Thumb hesitating over the send button, you contemplated about taking another, one where you couldn't see your face. A picture like the ones you had sent your classmate earlier. Yet, you hit send. Because this was Brady, and if he shared it with anyone else, he would get into as much trouble as you would. 
“There, I sent it to you,” you told him as you brought the phone back up to your ear.
You could hear Brady's satisfied hum through the phone as you relaxed back on the bed. “You look so pretty on your knees,” he told you and you threw yourself back on the pillow with a too wide grin. “Such an amazing body you have, Sissy.”
Your cheeks flushed with color. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen so much of your skin. Your family had taken a vacation somewhere hot every year for as long as you could remember, but this was the first time Brady could really comment on it. 
“Can I show you something?” Brady asked, and your heart quickened. 
“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, and you waited patiently, your face half buried in your pillow as you waited for his picture to be sent. 
Yet, when that red square popped up on your screen, you hesitated to open it. It was one thing to send a picture, but to receive one. Opening it would mean you both crossed a line and there would be no coming back from it. Then, as you did most decisions, you took the risky option with no consideration for the repercussions you would face in the future. You held your thumb down on the screen, the sight it unlocked leaving your breath to hitch in the back of your throat. 
Your eyes went to the shadow of his abs first and traveled down the dark trail of hair on his stomach as it began just below his navel and disappeared behind the gray fabric of his sweatpants. Licking your lips, you indulge yourself in the sight of his cock tenting up against his sweatpants. You had no words, your mouth falling agape in a heavy exhale as you tried to keep your body calm. But it was too late. Your skin was hot with arousal and on the verge of sweating, and as you pressed your ass down into the mattress, you could feel just how slick you were between your thighs. 
Raising your phone back up to your ear, you greeted Brady with a quivering breath and he spoke with confidence into your ear. There was no need to tiptoe around things now. “You see what your little accident did to me?”
“Oh? Did I do that?” you answered his question with a question, your words knowing and sickeningly sweet as you let your hand run down your own stomach and stopped at the waistband of your panties. Your fingers traced over its edge slowly, craving to dip deeper, but you would wait. 
“Do you think you can help me take care of it?” Brady asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You bit your lip, hiding your own smile from yourself, and he must have taken it as a moment of hesitation because Brady’s words found your ear again. “You have such a great body, Sissy. It’s so hard to ignore, and that picture,” he let out a long exasperated breath, “send me another one?”
“What do you want to see?” You asked him. Your words were a breath that you thought he might not even have heard. 
“Whatever you’re comfortable showing me,” Brady answered. 
His words had been soft, melting you further and further into the mess of a puddle that you were. “Let me just,” you hummed out, “give me one second.”
Peeling the phone away from your ear, you opened Snapchat again. You tried to take a picture laying down, but each one left you feeling undesirable. Then you rolled over onto your side where you knew your cleavage would be the star of the show if you had been wearing anything else, but the high neckline of your cropped sleep shirt kept your breasts at bay. You let out a frustrated huff as you moved to the edge of the bed and spread your legs. At this angle, he could see just how wet the crotch of your panties was. 
With your phone in one hand, you posed with the other. You placed it on your inner thigh first, but you didn’t like that. Then, you rested it over your panties but decided it was too close to the first image he had received. You almost gave up, but then, with the quick swipe of your thumb over the screen, you were recording yourself as your fingers dipped inside the fabric of your panties and found your clit. You pressed into it with the pads of your fingers and stroked it in two slow, agonizing circles before you sent it, without reviewing it, to Brady. 
Your hand didn’t leave your panties as you sprawled out lazily over the bed. Stroking yourself slowly, you listened to Brady breathe into the phone, undoubtedly watching the clip you had just sent to him. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, and you pressed into your clit harder, “so beautiful, sissy. You’re so wet,” Brady let out a low groan, “you make my cock so hard.”
“Are you touching yourself, Brady?” You asked him, your words breathy, “Touching yourself, because of me?”
“I am,” he confirmed with a heavy breath into the phone, “you want to see it, Sissy?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, your feet leaving the floor to dig into the mattress. You dipped your fingers down lower, parting your wet lips and teasing the entrance of your core as you waited for the notification to buzz against your ear. It almost startled you when it did, even if you were expecting it. 
Lulling your head to the side, you let the clip play. Brady was laying in the hotel bed now, his sweatpants pulled down just below his balls. His hockey hardened hand wrapped around his thick cock as she stroked it slowly. Up and down, then up again, making sure you could see the very length of him. 
Your eyes shut as the clip disappeared, trying to keep the sight of it in your mind as you plunged two fingers into your dripping core. 
“Brady,” you gasped out, your phone laying back on the bed almost completely abandoned until you had reached out quickly to put the call on speaker. You couldn’t hold it any longer. You needed both hands now. With your two fingers in your cunt, your other hand dipped beneath the cotton and found your clit again, rubbing it in those same slow circles. 
“You like that, Sissy?” Brady’s voice erupted from the phone beside you, and you were suddenly thankful that your roommate had been spending the night at her boyfriend’s place. No one would overhear him saying things stepbrother shouldn’t say, and no one would hear you moan. 
“Mhm,” you hummed, and it sounded like a whine.
“What are you doing now?” Brady asked you slowly, his words quick as he breathed through the pleasure of his own hand. “Your hand still in your panties, Sissy?”
“Yes,” you gasped out, “they feel so good.”
“What feels good?” Brady asked you slowly, “tell me.” 
“My fingers,” you squeezed your eyes tighter, fighting to speak your words when all you wanted to do was moan. “My fingers in my cunt.”
“That’s so sexy,” he told you and a wave of heat hit you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge that you already felt on the verge of falling over. “How many?”
“Two,” you panted out. 
“Two? That’s not nearly enough.” A lump formed in the back of your throat as he spoke. “No, no, I think I’m at least three of your fingers.” Your walls clenched at the very idea of sliding a third finger into your core, and your hips wiggled, taking your own fingers until they were knuckle deep at the very prospect of pretending that you were being fucked by his thick cock. “Can you do that for me, Sissy? Put a third finger in for me?”
Withdrawing your fingers, you brought three fingers together and pressed the very tip of them to your entrance. You gasped at just how much more they would fill you. “Brady, that’s too much,” you gasped. 
“Would I be too much for you, Sissy?” His question made you shiver. “Is my cock too big for that pretty little pussy of yours?”
“I-I,” you stammered, your heart racing deep in your chest as you hesitated to even try. 
“Take a breath, get nice and relaxed for me,” his words were soft as he guided you, “circle your cunt with three fingers for me. What do you feel?”
“I’m dripping,” you told him with a quivering voice. “I can feel it all down the back of my hand.”
“Good girl,” he cooed, “so slick and horny for my cock. Slowly press just the tips of your fingers. Nice and slow.” His words were gentle and encouraging as you followed his guidance, your core feeling so tight around the tips of your fingers, but the longer you held them there, still inside your cunt, the better it felt. 
“And when you’re ready, press in just a little bit more.” Delving your fingers in deeper, you let out an audible gasp, one that left Brady moaning on the other end of the phone. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah,” you assured, your toes curling over the edge of your bed as you pumped your fingers in and out of your dripping core. “It feels so good, Brady.”
“I can hear how wet you are, Sissy,” Brady groaned. “You like this? You like thinking of me when you touch yourself. Talking to me when your fingers are buried in your cunt.”
“Yes,” you groaned through your grit teeth, “yes! I’m so close, Brady.”
“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you come. I want to hear what you sound like when you moan,” he encouraged you, and you could hear his hand pumping at his cock. 
Your body reeled in your bed, your hips jutted into your own hand as you gasped and moaned out. Core clenching around your fingers, squeezing them as if they were desperate for the come of his cock. You rolled over, so you were laying face down in the bed. Your hips angled, taking your fingers down to the knuckle and humping them until you fell into the dreamy haze of your release. It left you dazed, so ready for sleep, as you lay there staring at your phone, panting. 
The air was silent for a long time, nothing heard but your own breathing as you calmed. It was a silence that lulled you close and closer to sleep, and Brady must have known it. “Are you going to sleep now, Sissy?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. 
“Good girl, get cleaned up and rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”
You hummed out in approval, “okay, night Brady.”
“Night.”
The line cut, leaving you in the silence alone with nothing but the weight of what just had happened. It should have bothered you, you knew it should. Instead, you were calm as you rolled out of bed and stepped out of your wet panties. Abandoned on the floor, you left them there as you reached for the makeup wipes you kept on your bedside table. The cold wipe was a shock to your skin as you wiped your hand clean and then used another to clean up the inside of your thighs. A proper shower could wait until morning. 
Clean, or rather clean enough, you crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers only to get him in the face with your phone that had become lost in the mess of your blankets. You let out a low curse as you pushed the covers off to climb out of bed once more to plug in your phone. Blocking your path were your panties, and your heart raced as a mischievous ideal struck you. The idea had you regretting taking them off so quickly, but it was nothing another makeup wipe wouldn’t fix. 
You stepped into your panties and pulled them back up again. Then, you propped up your phone on your desk so that the camera focused on the space between your hips and your mid thighs. When you pressed record, you took a half step back and hooked your thumbs on each side of your panties. You dragged them down slowly, your legs spread just wide enough for the camera to capture your arousal as it webbed and beaded as you peeled your panties from your body. You dragged them down your leg, leaving wet trails down the inside of your thighs until you stood there naked from the waist down in front of the camera. 
You were giddy when you stopped the footage, your cheeks flushed as you sent it off to Brady with no shame. It gave him something to wake up to in the morning. A little reminder of what just had happened, and how your body responded to his words and his guidance. It was fun, though the only person you would ever admit that to was yourself. Not even Brady could know. Not when you were sure he would wake up in the morning with your little gift and be hit hard with the reality of the situation. That one picture accidentally sent to him spiraled further than you both should have let it. 
And as you crawled back into bed, you kept telling yourself: It was just a picture. It was just a phone call. What you did wasn’t wrong. It was a happy little accident, something that only happened one time, and you told yourself it wouldn’t happen again. That was until you woke up the next morning and found a text message from Brady on your phone. 
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You hadn’t even left your bed yet when you opened it. Your own video met with his own, one that you could hear your own moans in the background of. While you had been riding your own three fingers, Brady had been thrusting into his hand and was capturing it all on camera. It was a video you were sure he was saving for himself. A dirty little secret he would watch when he wanted to remember what you sounded like when you came. But it was more than that now that he sent to you. Because it wasn’t just a recording of the soft sounds you made, it was also a video of how Brady let out a sigh that you didn’t remember hearing. A video of how his cock twitched and throbbed as it was so close to release–and how he sighed out your name as he shot thick webs of his release up over his toned abs before the phone dropped and the screen went black. It was the video that put everything in perspective. Together you and your stepbrother had created a fucked up little fantasy, and while it was wrong, you didn’t want to stop.
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TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvoteu , @couldawouldashoulda50
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hymnoire · 3 months ago
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hug - muse a ( gaya ) embraces muse b ( minwoo )
Kaeleena's gentle touch dabs away the last traces of blood from Minwoo’s face, her voice still carrying that tender, motherly tone, even as a flicker of something dark stirs within her. She hums softly, her eyes never leaving his features, searching for any hint of the thoughts that might be swirling behind those cold, indifferent eyes of his. She saw something earlier, panic, fear... Does he remember? And .. has she managed to soothe that down? But before she can speak again, the door bursts open, the serene atmosphere turns into chaos. “Minwoo!”
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Gaya’s voice slices through the air like a blade, sharp. The Black Swan is a storm, her eyes wide and wild on the scene before her. Without a second thought, Gaya rushes to Minwoo's side, her movements frantic, her hands already pulling him into a tight embrace. “What THE FUCK are you doing?” Gaya’s voice is almost a growl as she glares at Kaeleena, her arms wrapped protectively around Minwoo. Her eyes are blazing with a fury that makes Kaeleena take a step back, confusion washing over the white swan. “I’m not—” Kaeleena starts, but Gaya cuts her off, her voice even louder and filled with rage. “Stay away from him!” Gaya’s scream is raw, filled with a hatred Kaeleena has never seen her sister direct towards her before. One that slices through Kaeleena, leaving her voiceless, her hands trembling at her sides. “Don’t you dare touch him, don’t you dare harm him!” Keeps on yelling Gaya, menacing, threatening.
wordless prompts // still accepting.
Kaeleena feels as though she’s been struck. The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating, wrapping around her chest, hurt flickers across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by a flash of anger. “I’m not harming him!” Kaeleena’s voice cracks as she yells back, her eyes stinging. “I would never—” But Gaya doesn’t listen, her focus entirely on Minwoo, her hands cupping his face. Kaeleena’s heart twists at the sight, the deep bond between Gaya and Minwoo playing out in front of her, a bond that seems to exclude her entirely. She silently watches as Gaya pulls Minwoo to his feet, her arms still wrapped around him as though she can shield him from the world, from Kaeleena herself. The pain in Kaeleena’s chest sharpens, a dull ache that spreads through her like wildfire. She wants to scream, to beg Gaya to believe her, but the words get caught in her throat. “Gaya, please,” Kaeleena’s voice is barely a whisper now, her hands reaching out but stopping short of touching. The desperation in her voice is palpable, her eyes wide and pleading. “I was only trying to help.” In return, Gaya’s eyes are usually cold but they grew even colder with the years, mistrustful. “Help? Is that what you call it? I've seen you watch him like he's your little pet project. I know what you do to the animals in the forest you crazy psychopath, what now? You're going to do the same to him HUH? Cut him open?? See what's inside yeah? You think I don't know?!” Her voice is laced with venom, each word dripping with a contempt that cuts Kaeleena to the core. “Stay away from him, Kae. Just stay the fuck away for fuck sake.” And with that, Gaya turns, pulling Achilles with her as she heads for the door. Kaeleena’s hand drops to her side as she stands, frozen. Her chest tightens, a dull ache spreading through her, but she forces herself to remain steady, her hands clenched into fists and the room feels suddenly colder, emptier, empty. “I was only trying to help,” she whispers to the empty room, the words falling flat against the silence. She can’t understand why Gaya reacted the way she did, why she saw something sinister in what was only meant as care. The hurt threatens to surface, but Kaeleena forces it down, steeling herself against the emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. The white swan stands there for a long moment, her mind racing with thoughts she can’t quite grasp, emotions she’s not sure how to handle. The nursery, once a place of quiet care, now feels like a cage, the walls pressing in on her as if to mock her failed attempt at compassion. She won't cry. Not this time.
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rotisseries · 1 year ago
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girl the what ttt
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the narines bj ask. duh
#context here is that I think a bit before I got tals and juno into tbos?#I had forgotten that nate is a tall character and hella was making fun of me for it she was like “nate is literally taller than drako”#so then I sent her an ask like “I need to know if nate is taller than rin too”#and in the replies gloomy was like “it's not like it matters nate will make him shorter either way”#which started hella and gloomy having a whole convo in there#just devolving into “ooh the implications the king on his knees we're talking about bjs right?”#which. fun#and then the other day I was thinking about it again and I was like rin literally has appearances to be keeping up#he's not going to like. AGREEABLY go down on his knees#so then I went to go send hella that ask and as I'm typing “rin would bite nate's dick off”#my train of thought continues and I'm like well nate wouldn't WANT his dick bit off he'd need to keep him in line#so them I'm like dagger to the throat obviously that's a standard threat the dagger has made. appearances. in narines scenes already#and then as I'm typing that out I'm thinking about the awkward logistics of the dagger to the front of the throat#(where it usually goes when you threaten someone)#and I'm like well that wouldn't work so I automatically make sure to specify the side of his throat for some reason#and then I just like. had to deal with that image in my head🤨#so obviously I immediately clicked the send ask button#ask#ghoultaffy#hi jayme!
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roguerolled · 10 months ago
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@adlishar liked for a starter
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Nashira TOOK A STEP CLOSER to Lae'zel's area - her space - the human rogue's eyes wandered to the trophies the githyanki kept around before her eyes landed back on Lae'zel. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously , making sure there was at least a foot of distance where they stood apart. "Hey ... uh ... you're still not mad about the toothpick comment I made THE OTHER DAY , right?"
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glimmeringpersonality · 2 years ago
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it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful
i’m so successful
listen listen listen
i have a CAREER, i’m making that SCHMONEY, i’m with the man of my DREAMS, i have so many good friends, i’m READING again, i’m being ARTISTIC again.
i am FLOURISHING
man im so thankful for it all
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readwritealldayallnight · 5 days ago
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife
You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap
“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for
The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met in his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him
That one smile and he was done for
“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.
“Think that was my wife.”
“Yer what?!”
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife
Well, everyone apart from you apparently
He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves
Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case
Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course
By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway
“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”
By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and his cock into you
You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing
“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand
“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book
“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips
“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch
“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him
Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses
“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind
“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white
“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”
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2tarbell · 1 month ago
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one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!
kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text
happy birthday, angel 💓
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BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
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manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.
the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.
but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.
‘what position u got her in?’
‘Be so fr’
it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.
the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.
it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.
so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.
“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.
“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.
“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.
princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.
“hellooooo?”
her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.
“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.
“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.
“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”
“hiii. why’s that?”
his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.
princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.
he ignored her question, instead asking his own.
“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”
a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”
“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”
she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.
“rafe cameron—“
he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”
it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.
she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”
she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.
a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.
“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.
comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.
she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.
“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.
princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.
he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.
“i— thank you, rafey…”
rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.
he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”
her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.
“that’s what position imma have you in.”
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alastor-simp · 10 months ago
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Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap
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Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!
Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.
You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.
Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.
**2 Hours Later**
As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.
Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.
Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡��" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.
Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.
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