#gg fanfic

[terras-mind]

Trick or Be Tricked

Characters: Hwang Yeji, Yoo Jimin (Karina)

Tags: Halloween, shrinking, trick or treat, Dungeons & Dragons (DnD) kinda style (?), game master, lowkey story driven, somewhat bi

Note from writer: (HIYAAA ALL! I'm trying a bit of a new format for my smuts so it looks more organized. Plus, I'll be trying to finish this Halloween story before the end of this week, 5th of November 2023. Cheers all and happy Halloween <33)

(just a lil fyi to readers, DnD heavily relies on the dices results, the higher the number, the higher the damage. how much? depends on the one that controls the game aka me :3)

Halloween, that time of year again. Where the self-proclaimed 'spooky' seasons are at. Children running around in costumes, even adults too to celebrate with a well known tradition, trick or treating. Both JYP and SM Ent have proposed a collaboration of the festive season by making a 'trick or treat' event, where two leaders from their respective companies; Yeji and Karina will knocking door to door to greet fans on the occasions. At first it was kind of a fun event, meeting people excited to see them, gifting nice presents and candy, not to mention the children's heart melting wishes for them, making both Yeji and Karina enjoy the day, until they reached the last house in their little event.

For some reason, the production crew was nowhere to be seen when they reached the area of the house, a deserted terrace, well decorated for Halloween. 30 mins goes by and still, nobody there, not to mention the bad reception there. "Maybe they're waiting for us inside?" Yeji suggested, the two leaders both shrugging and though maybe they are already in there. So they walked up to the front door, two knocks on the door from Karina's knuckle as they called out. "Trick or treat~" the two girls were in sync, hoping for a response. The wooden door creaks open as an old man peeks through, checking out who was knocking on his door. "Oh my, visitors!" He exclaimed, shocked to see the both Karina and Yeji stood in front of his front door, not because they're idols but rather because he has nobody knocking on his door, which clearly left the two girls with question marks.

"I thought the crew told the neighborhood about us coming." Karina whispered to Yeji, only for her to just nod in confusion. The old man guided them in, walking into the large interior of the terrace while the oldie kept on going about and talking until they reached the living room; where it was decorated too well for only that man to be living alone. A bonfire well lit and beautiful scenery of beauty and ominous vibe, a coffee table that is filled with jars and boxes of sweets and chocolates. But the thing that caught the eyes of Karina and Yeji weren't the mouthwatering sweets, it's the board game in the center of the table. "Are you a DnD player sir?" Karina asked, which the old man happily nodded and chuckled. "I used to be a game master for my friends back in the day, before they all moved away..." he kept a big smile, but something about him just makes everything so horrific, worse than any other horror movie they've seen.

Both Karina and Yeji sat together at the coffee table, facing the old man as they made some small talk. Eventually they grabbed some of the chocolates from the boxes and jars, and not gonna lie, it was good, until a sudden blurriness covers their eyesight. Yeji smacks the table, coughing as she faced difficulties to breath, and so did Karina. "Nghhh-! What's in that thing?" Yeji asked, looking up to the old man who was silent, smirking as the two girls were looking like they were on the verge of death itself, as if their lungs are shrinking. "Yeji....I can't...breathe" Karina voiced for help, but what can Yeji do? She's in the same boat as her. "Fuuuck....help..." Yeji's defeated voice fades as both her and Karina collapsed, soon everything turns black.

"Huh???" A confused Yeji shook her head, looking around. Karina just got up herself it seems, shaking her head as they looked around. "Where are we?" Karina asked, but the deep stare they gave each other just amplifies their confusion. "Well good morning girls~ welcome- to my WORLD" the old man's voice echoes, introducing himself as The Game Master. "Game Master....board game...DnD! Yeji! We're in a DnD game!" Karina yelped out as a staff suddenly appears in her hands. And so did her appearance change from her usual wear to one that a mage would wear in the medieval shows. And so did Yeji, transforming into what seems to be a knight, with a sword and shield on each hand and a shining silver armor. "Much better! Now, your mission girls...is to amuse me!" The Game Master exclaimed, clapping his hands once as he announced. "I summon, 20 bandits!" His orders turns to a reality, 20 bandits equipped with knives surrounding them.

"Hnggh- guess there's no running here." Yeji grabbed her sword and slashes one of the bandits, no effects happened. "What...?" Yeji, looks puzzled, she was sure to have killed that thing. Yeji's clueless face just made Karina sigh. "I cast fire spell on the 20 bandits" She casted, and with her wand, a gigantic 20-sided dice is shown. as it bounces around it shows the number 17, making Karina smirk. "Bingo." As the dice disappears into thin air fire ignites as 17 of the bandits reduces to ashes, leaving them only to deal with 3 more of those mobs. "OHHHHH~ so that's how you do it" Yeji nodded, starting to understand the game a bit more, it just made Karina shook her head, hiding her laughter despite the dangerous game they're playing.

"I slash the bandit with my sword!" Yeji's commands reappears the dice, rolling it but only casting a 4. It made Yeji's sword didn't make much damage on the bandit, only 2/5 of it's hit points (HP) down. Now, it's the bandits turn. "The bandits will target Yeji, attack her!" Again, the dice reappears, this time rolling 11. Thanks to her outstanding armor, Yeji managed to tank the damages, only losing 4 out of her 15 HP. "Yeji!!" Karina screamed, trying to help her, but she can't. It's Yeji's turn and the only thing she can do is wait and hope Yeji can save herself out of the situation. Yeji's chest moved up and down as she looks at the three bandits surrounding her. Fear in her eyes, scared for own life but as soon as she realized the lustful eyes from the bandits, she find a solution to get her out of this situation.

"Can I attract or seduce the bandits?" the question wasn't answered, instead the dice shows up, rolling. And oh boy, the 20-sided dice shows a 19. Yeji's cat like eyes widen as she stood up, her body starting to move on her own, loosening her armor to show her tight body to the three men. Swaying her body left and right she winked at them. And seems like her seduction is working, looking from the bulges in their pants. Karina's turn got skipped due to the effectiveness of Yeji's seduction. With their pants now off, the 3 bandits now crowd Yeji, grabbing and groping around her soft skin. Yeji couldn't fight back, instead she just moaned in pleasure, getting in the center of attention and all these bandits touching her, she just gave in and kneeled before them, ready to please.

Karina watches how well Yeji controls the situation, both hands getting to work to stroke the bandits and her mouth to pleasure the remaining bandit. "Fuuuuck....", moaned the Game Master from above, looking at how the game he set now changes it's trajectory. Yeji using her pretty and curvy body to weaken her enemies while they take turns using her perfect body features, hands, mouth and even pussy to pleasure themselves. Yeji getting penetrated by two bandits while the other occupies her mouth made her loud moans muffled, turning on an immobile Karina who stood there and watch, using her magic wand to rub the cloth that shields her golden pyramid, as she watches the group of bandits play around with unarmored knight, Yeji. Using her in any way possible, which turns Yeji on more, they started to reach their climax and eventually shooting their seed all over her pretty face, covering her face with their sticky gooey cum. That made the bandits weaker, tired. "NOW, KARINA!"

"Good thinking with there Yeji", Karina giggled, walking with Yeji away from the group of bandits they wiped out with a single blow from Karina's wand. Yeji got back into her armor as they marched forward into the game. The Game Master gave us a mission to find the princess hidden in a tower to beat his game, and beat it they will. Once they reached the gates of the castle, a huge buff man, with an axe, standing 7 feet tall awaits them. "You shall not pass." He claimed, bending his knees ready for battle. The two girls mirrored the giant man's actions as Yeji lunges, screaming her attack. "I slash the Gatekeeper with my blade!" And as usual, the dice roles, this time landing a solid 9. Wasn't enough to take down the brute, but enough to break his axe which was probably gonna cause trouble for them.

Without the axe, the gigantic man was basically defenseless, leaving Karina an easy blow to finish it quick, or so she hoped. "I cast thunder spell" she casted, the dice roles, and my god what luck is it to role a 1 at this time. The lightning bolt struck Yeji, not just taking out half of her HP, but also her paralyzing her for one turn. The giant man now has a chance to strike Karina, who defensively isn't as strong as Yeji. "The Gatekeeper, take her down." The Game Master ordered, the same routine. Dice role, 15, effective. The ogre physique like man manages to plunge Karina on to the wall of the castle entrance. A few quick stares on Karina's tight mage dress made the Gatekeeper smirk, looking up and down. A deep, growling voice then follows as he opens his mouth. "Forget fighting, I have a better plan for you, little one."

With ease, Karina's leggings were ripped by the Gatekeeper's strong hands. Karina's cute squeaks of moans only excite the guard even more, pitching a huge tent underneath her torn pants. With his hands pulling down her top, now revealing Karina's round chest, it made the monstrous human more lustful. One hand groping her soft left chest while the other held her in position so the smaller Karina couldn't run away. "Ngghhhh fuck off you monster" Karina struggled, trying to break free despite her lewd mind from the incident with the bandits and Yeji was still fresh, her wet pussy dripping on the floor. "I don't think you're being honest, sweet mage~" His voice continues to sounds full of lust, enjoying his time moving his fingers to feel the softness of Karina's boobs, which made her so wet and horny, eventually letting out moans of satisfaction. The paralyzed Yeji is suffering the same thing as Karina before, stuck in place, a mere spectator of the scene.

As The Gatekeeper's boner is fully erect, he couldn't contain it any longer. He stopped his pleasuring time of groping and kissing Karina's voluptuous breast, he wants her pussy now. Tearing off his own garment sprung out his large 7 incher, already poking on Karina's tight tummy. Starting slow by rubbing on her belly, The Gatekeeper slowly moves his crotch lower to align it with the gates of Karina's insides. "Admit it. You wanted this, didn't you?" The brute smirked, pausing when he pushed half the tip in, only to tease Karina more. "Y-yes~ I needed this. Please~~ fuck me~!" Karina submissively plead, her horny mind taking over as she voluntarily grind on his cock with hope it can force his meat deeper inside her, and that is exactly what she'll get.

The Gatekeeper now plunges his cock inside, penetrating Karina's tight vagina with all 7 inches inside, making Karina yelp and scream. "Aaaaah~!" A loud sweet moan came out of her mouth, her lungs screaming out both pain and pleasure. Feeling his thick cock ramming in and out of her hole really made it feel like heaven despite the situation they're put in, a death game as the Game Master suggests. Karina didn't care; she's enjoying this, and she won't let this chance go. Having a huge dick ramming her insides so good as she held tight to him, The Gatekeeper can now carry her while thrusting, his hips moving like pistons in her tight hole, precum lubing her insides. "Fuuck cutie~ you sure are tight. I love it" He grunted, more liquids coming out of his penis as his hips thrusts faster, pumping in and out of the now entranced Karina who forgot about her paralyzed colleague, only dick is in her mind, The Gatekeeper's cock as he sucked on her breasts making it more arousing for Karina. It didn't take too long for him to get close though, he wanted to cum quick. "Ngghhhh you slutty mage I wanna cum!" He growled. "Then cum in me you brute. Fucking fill me up!" Karina's words were barely audible from the moans she was making. With a few last thrusts, The Gatekeeper finally shot out his load, finishing himself inside of Karina's tight pussy, filling it with warm cum.

The Gatekeeper cumming too much, he couldn't think much and immediately fainted on the spot, letting Karina and now cured Yeji a free walk into the castle, straight to the princess' room. They knocked on the door, no answer. "Hello? Princess, we're here to rescue you." Yeji asked. Again, no answer. "Well, fuck it we tried Sleeping Beauty." Yeji sighed as he lift her leg up. "I want to kick the door open." Dice rolls as Yeji orders. And lucky enough, an 18 pops out, smashing the door open only to find no princess there. "What the fuck?" Karina and Yeji were in sync as they were filled with question marks. "Muahahahaha you've been tricked you whores!" The Game Master exclaimed, laughing at them. "There was never any princess to begin with. Your actual mission is; please me. Give me a show worthy of your freedom."

"Fucking pervert." Yeji scoffed spiting on the floor as she looked at Karina, already loosening her clothes already, which made Yeji gulp. "W-wait, Rina! We're really following this creep's orders." Yeji's cat-eyes widened, not that she didn't want a taste of Karina's smooth and sweet body, just not for the reason of being watched by the creepy old man. "It's okay Yeji...besides, let's not pretend we didn't want to do this in the first place~" Karina giggled, pulling Yeji by her armor as she threw each piece of one by one before they were soon naked, without a sting attached to them, falling on the bed that is the only furniture in the room.

With Yeji on top, she took the lead by going in for a kiss, striking her tongue inside Karina's mouth. Both leaders were now into it, hugging each other tight as their bodies clash and rubs against one another. "Fuck~ Yeji you have no idea how horny I was watching you getting fucked back there." A moment for air was used to let those words out, making Yeji smirk and want her more. she started biting on Karina's left boob, making Karina squeal in pleasure. Sucking on her boobs while fingering her pussy, Yeji just looked to see the entranced Karina, having the time of her life from having her body pleasured at both of her sensitive points, making her scream louder every moment.

Yeji wanted some pleasure too. So she pulled away and stopped, immediately catching the weak Karina off guard. "Ngh- why'd you stop, Yeji?" She asked, clearly unsatisfied. "It's my turn to feel good baby~" Yeji smirked as she spreads her legs wide, taunting Karina to come to her. Karina, still in heat, followed the Itzy leader's commands and crawled towards her pussy, kissing and sticking her tongue out to lick it, savoring the taste of her wet pussy in her mouth while looking up to her. "Does this feel good Yeji?" She asked, holding on both of Yeji's thighs to put her in place so she can have an easy time eating Yeji while looking up to the cat-eyed girl. "Fuckk~ just like that Rina yes please...more please" Yeji's loud moans fills the room as Karina's mouth worked her magic on Yeji, no wonder she's a mage. A few minutes later, Yeji couldn't hold on any longer. "Baby, I wanna cum with you."

The words that came out of Yeji's pretty mouth never made Karina happier. She understood it immediately as she climbed up, aligning their wet pussies together as they started to grind against each other, making their moans out together, making the empty room supposedly for the princess, now for two princesses of K-pop to scissor each other with their soaking pussies. "Fuuuck Karina you're so wet shiiiit" Yeji exclaimed, a hand grabbing Karina's thigh, both for balance support and to grope her thick thighs. Karina's moaning mess gave no direct reaction, instead she moved her face to Yeji's smooching her as she started to make out with her, slowly they started kissing deeply, suppressing their moans as their wet body fluids from their vaginas squish between each other as they edge closer to their climax. "Yes....yes...yes....MORE! I WANT MORE!" The perverted Game Master sounded like he was enjoying himself, touching himself while watching. "Karina...cum with me~" Yeji plead, her voice being breathy from the tiredness of their adventure, which puts a smile on the thick aespa leader. "Fuck...yeah cum with me Yeji" They went back to loud moans, going faster and rougher on their griding, reaching their climax as they went faster and faster. "Cu-c-CUMMIIIIIING!" The two girls screamed out simultaneously, as a bright light shined the room, blinding the scene.

"Nghhh- Wha?" Yeji opened her eyes, Karina beside her, both back to the clothes they wore for Halloween, THEY'RE BACK! "Yeji, we're back!" The two leaders cheered as they hugged tight, celebrating their liberty from the pervert's game. "Hehehee, that was soooo entertaining." A familiar annoying voice was let out. The 'Game Master', now on his couch with tissues around him and white liquids splattered around him while he's half unconscious. "This fucker." Both Karina and Yeji cracked their knuckles, looking down at the smirking pervert, passed out.

A few bruises and bumps on his face, the police came by to arrest him, guilty of possession of dangerous substances which most likely is responsible for putting Yeji and Karina in that 'game'. "Well, glad that's over." Karina sighed, relieved they got out of the life and death game with no casualties. But a pair of hands were holding her hips, making Karina look back. "Who said we're done? We clearly just got started~" Yeji smirked, her lips travelling to Karina's neck to give it a kiss followed with a soft giggle to her ears. "Oh right...silly me~" Karina snickered, smiling.

"Happy Halloween."

(3150 words)

#kpop smut #itzy fanfic #aespa fanfic #kpop fanfic #karina fanfic #yeji fanfic #idol x idol #female x female #female x male #gg fanfic

[ryulvrs]

can you write a gidle yuqi smut? where yuqi igets jealous because y/n is to “close” with Soyeon and Minnie??

-☺️

too close (song yuqi, smut)

summary: your girlfriend, yuqi, gets jealous after hanging out with your friends and you fuck to prove otherwise to her

warnings: soft!dom!yuqi x bottom!f!reader, couch sex, jealousy, slight hair pulling, eating out (reader receiving)

word count: 671

a/n: i tried to do something different with this but idk 😭

turning to face your girlfriend and instead of seeing a face with a big smile, but seeing an angry expression is unsettling.

you don’t know what you did. all you can think of is that you shut the door after saying goodbye to your friends just now. maybe the door was too loud? but she wouldn’t be that upset.

“huh?” you ask stepping closer to her. she just scoffed and turned her head away from you.

“what, yuqi?” using her name when talking to her wasn’t something you normally did, but her whole attitude was serious so you tried to match that.

"i hate how close you are to them," she states.

taken aback, you let out a breathy sound trying to speak. "what?" you say.

"you're always right next to them when they visit," she made sure to emphasize 'right.'

you thought everything she was saying was profound and kind of dumb as these are your friends she's talking about.

"yeah, i sit next to them? but it's nothing more than that. yuqi are you jealous?" you ask tilting your head.

"no, i just-" she cuts herself off. "i want you to be like that with me," she whispers.

you giggle, you thought her neediness for attention was adorable. "yuqi, you're my girlfriend. soyeon and minnie are my friends, i can be more than like that with you," you say attempting to reassure her.

she looks down, with a face that only could read of dissatisfaction. closer, you move to reach out to her face and comfortingly kiss her. "i promise you. i'm sorry i made you feel that way."

she takes your hand and kisses you back, this time more eagerly. "how much more than that?" she pulls back for a second to say. you smirk, stomaching her flirtatious joke.

both of your lips find their way to each other's once more attaching desperately. her hands slip down your pants, she's moving quickly. little foreplay, just two needy girlfriends.

following this, you remove her outfit as well. you both stumble back onto the same couch soyeon and minnie were sat on minutes prior.

her hands grab onto your thighs gently and she pushes you up the couch so you could lie in a comfortable yet easy way for her to access your cunt.

"tell me if its too much," she groans with that raspy, deep voice she has. you nod, watching as her eyes disappear by what you could see of your lower half.

all you can feel now is the tip of her tongue flicking at the most sensitive outlines of your pink pussy. her motions catch you off guard, and you let whimpers slip out. "more," you whine.

she sticks her tongue farther into you, and you feel every curl she makes. you find your hand slipping to grip onto her hair, wishing for her to go even deeper.

her mouth sucks onto your folds, and you see her look up at you with the same amorous aura in her eyes. she's no longer being light with you, she just as horny to have you as you are to have her.

she gives you small breaks to breathe from your constant moaning by kissing your thighs. "feels okay?" she asks.

"it feels really good," you whimper. she smirks, bringing her mouth back to your folds to continue giving you pleasure.

the feeling of her sucking down onto you makes you moan nosily. you have to grip onto the sofa to resist from shaking. "please," you moan wretchedly.

she gives you what you want, and she quickens the pace of her tongue, feeling little drops of your liquids soak into her mouth.

yuqi groans into the sensation, not letting anything leak out of her mouth and go to waste. "you taste beautiful, y/n," she smiles licking a little off her lips.

you smile back instinctively, and sit up so you can pull her closer to kiss her. "you can always do more to me than they can."

#gg smut #gg x reader #gidle smut #gidle x reader #yuqi smut #yuqi x reader #yuqi x fem reader #gidle x fem reader #gidle fanfic #gidle hcs #gidle imagines #gg x fem reader #gg fanfic #wlw smut

[littleengine74]

I did a thing.

My chapter summaries are shit. I promise it’s worth a read despite them.

#brio #rio x beth #nbc good girls #beth x rio #gg fanfic #brio fic #brio fanfiction

[missgoalie75]

gilmore girls fic: the things we do deserve their rightful names

title: the things we do deserve their rightful names characters/pairings: rory, jess, lane and hep alien, paris, lorelai, luke, emily, richard, logan, etc.; rory/jess, feat. rory/dean (sorry!), lane/dave, other canon-compliant relationships of the time. rating: m spoilers/warnings: au in which rory doesn’t meet jess until starting yale, otherwise canon compliant; scenes of sexual nature, language, discussions around substance use, etc. word count: ~110,000 disclaimer: standard disclaimers apply. title is from “be sensible” by jimmy eat world. summary: rory finds jess interesting, but there's no time to process that when she still has so much to do before starting yale. | literati!yale au note: thank you annie for everything - you already know. also, thank you to manu, who’s been a rock for me in this fandom since my beginning years ago. and, thank you lu, for keep this a secret for as long as you have. and finally: for those interested, i hope you enjoy.

ao3

#gilmore girls #literati #gg fanfic #rory gilmore #jess mariano #missgoalie writes things #there are 2 mixes for this - one at the end of chapter 3 one at the end of chapter 6

[imninahchan]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ning yizhuo interpreta CIRCE

𓂃 ഒ ָ࣪ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: AKRASIA ato I, literatura sáfica, narrativa épica, grécia antiga, fantasia, mitologia grega, misandria, ação, harém, literatura erótica (sexo sem proteção, oral fem, sex pollen?, scissorring, a leitora é mais ativa, EEUSEIQUEVOCÊSSÃOTUDOPASSIVONASMASPFVMEDAUMACHANCEVIDASATIVASIMPORTAM, dirty talk).

Tô muito animada pra essa série, eu sou louca por mitologia grega. Tomei a liberdade de completar os mitos a serem expostos no decorrer dos capítulos com a minha própria interpretação criativa, para poder amarrar o enredo. Porém, não deixo de citar as minhas fontes (para esse ato I) sendo a Odisseia, a obra contemporânea Circe e O livro das Mitologias;

Acho que esse é o texto mais rico que eu já produzi, não só porque me levou tempo e pesquisa. Se você gosta da minha escrita como um todo, leia mesmo que não curta literatura sáfica, é só pular qualquer parte sexual que fica safe.

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⓞⓑⓡⓘⓖⓐⓓⓐ ⓟⓞⓡ ⓛⓔⓡ

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───── ⸙.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ATO I ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ o mito de circe

ESTA CANÇÃO COMEÇA E TERMINA NUMA TEMPESTADE. O raio que corta a imensidão noturna clareia tudo ao redor em vão, pois não há uma porção firme à vista para naufragar os restos do barco.

A trilha incandescente desenha pelo céu, semelhante a uma erva daninha, com seus ramas desaguando de canto em canto, e tomando mais e mais espaço até se perder no horizonte. Gigante, o vazio aberto faz parecer que está presenciando a fúria de um célebre titã, colossal e temido. O clarão que se estabelece pelo momento é capaz de cegar os olhos, construir a fantasia de um eterno vácuo sem cor ou forma.

E o som que sucede o fervor visual te faz tapar os ouvidos, encolhendo a postura. Jura, pelo resto de sanidade que ainda lhe resta, o compasso das ondas chocando-se contra o casco de madeira até muda de curso, como se a frequência reverberante fosse a potência que rege os mares.

O corpo tomba, para o caminho oposto em que a embarcação simplória é jogada. Bate com o peito na borda, os braços são jogados para fora, quase toca a água salgada com a ponta dos dedos. Senta-se sobre o estrado, afogando a pele da cintura para baixo no pequeno oceano que se forma dentro do barco. O supremo do mar não tem motivos para estar te atacando assim, pensa, o irmão dele, sim, pode estar enfurecendo o cosmos para te impedir de atracar em segurança. Quer a sua morte, nenhum rastro do seu cadáver quando a carcaça de madeira despontar em uma ilhota qualquer. Ninguém saberá nem a cor dos seus olhos.

— Nêmesis! — esforça-se para bradar mais alto que o repercutir das ondas quebrando.

Levanta-se num único impulso. Mal se alinha sobre os próprios pés, cambaleia conforme a embarcação nada por cima da maré, até se escorar no mastro. Abaixa o olhar.

— Nêmesis... — o título divino ecoa, agora, com mais fraqueza, tal qual um sussurro em segredo. Cerra os olhos. — Eu louvo a Nêmesis dos olhos brilhantes, filha de Nyx de capa escura...

Ó, grande deusa e rainha, Celebro-vos, a vingadora dos oprimidos, Que observais, que garantis que todo mal seja punido. Imparcial e inflexível, distribuidora da recompensa certa, Escutai meu lamento.

— Injustiça atormenta minhʼalma — confessa. — Sejais o corte da minha lâmina quando eu cruzar o destino de meu inimigo. Não deixeis que o sopro de vida opoente seja mais eterno que o meu. E eu vos prometo: será a minha alma pela dele.

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QUANDO CIRCE NASCEU o nome para o que ela viria a se tornar ainda não existia. Chamaram-na, então, de ninfa, confiando que seria como a mãe, antes de si, e as tias e as centenas primas. Modesto título, cujos poderes são tão singelos que mal podem assegurar-lhes a eternidade. Conversam com peixes e balançam-se em árvores, brincando com as gotas de chuva ou o sal das ondas na palma da mão. “Ninfa”, eles a chamaram, não apenas como em fada, mas em noiva.

Sua mãe Perseis era uma delas, uma náiade, filha do grande titã Oceanos e guardiã das fontes e águas doce. Belíssima, de ofuscar os olhos ao focar em outra coisa senão o brilho de sua pele feérica. Captura a atenção de Hélio, numa de suas visitas aos salões do primogênito dos titãs. Não havia nada igual Perseis.

Oceanos tinha uma aparência abatida, de olhos fundos na cara e uma barba branca beirando o colo. Seu palácio, entretanto, era um exímio refúgio situado nas profundezas das rochas terrestres. A estrutura se levantava em arcos altos, os pisos de pedra reluziam como a derme de bronze no corpo de Hélio. Pelos corredores amplos, era possível ouvir a dança das ondas, liderando a um infinito caminhar em que não se sabia o começo ou fim do leito rochoso. Nas margens, floresciam rosas acinzentadas, em cachoeiras dʼágua onde se banham as ninfas. Rindo, cantando e distribuindo as taças douradas entre si. Ali, se destacava Perseis. Não havia nada igual Perseis.

— E quanto àquela? — Hélio sempre se apaixonava por coisas belas, era seu defeito. Ele acreditava que a ordem natural do mundo era agradá-lo aos olhos.

Oceanos já conhecia o caráter do titã do sol, o brilho dourado em todos os netos que corriam de um canto ao outro pelos salões não o deixava esquecer.

— É minha filha Perseis — responde, num suspiro cansado. — Ela é tua, se desejar.

Hélio a encontrou no outro dia. Perseis sabia que ele viria, era frágil mas astuta, a mente feito uma enguia de dentes pontiagudos. Sabia que a glória não estava nos bastardos mortais e quedas nas margens dos rios. Pois quando estiveram frente a frente negociou, “uma troca?”, ele perguntou, poderia tê-la em seus lençóis apenas através do matrimônio. Teria o encanto de outras flores nos jardins que se espalham pela terra, mas nenhuma delas jamais reinaria em seus salões.

No dia de seu nascimento, Circe foi banhada e envolvida pela tia — uma das centenas.

— Uma menina — anunciou.

Hélio não se importava com as meninas. Suas filhas nasciam doces e brilhantes como o primeiro lagar de azeitonas. E mesmo quando olhou para o bebê emaranhado na colcha, sem reconhecer seu esplendor jovem, manteve sua fé.

Circe não era nada como Perseis.

— Ela terá um casamento digno — o titã acariciou a pele recém-nascida, feito uma bênção.

— O quão digno? — Perseis soou preocupada.

— Um príncipe, talvez.

— Um mortal?

— Com o rosto cheio dessa forma... Não sei se podemos pedir por muito.

A decepção estava clara na face de Perseis.

— Ela vai se casar com um filho de Zeus, com certeza — ela ainda insistiu, gostando de imaginar-se em banquetes no Olimpo, sentada à direita da rainha Hera.

Circe cresceu rápido — ou perdeu a noção do tempo enquanto cuidava dos irmãos. Os pés descalços correndo pelos corredores escuros do palácio do pai, sem um nome pelos primeiros quinze anos de vida. “KIRKE”, a chamaram, a princípio, para repreender quando olhavam nos profundos olhos amarelados e o choro estridente como uma águia que se senta ao canto do trono de Zeus.

O palácio de Hélio era vizinho a Oceanos, enterrado nas rochas da terra. As paredes pareciam não ter fim, extraídas de obsidiana polida. O titã do sol escolheu a dedo, gostava como a pedra refletia sua luz, superfícies lisas pegavam fogo quando ele passava. Mas não pensou na escuridão que deixaria assim que partisse.

Circe viveu na noite. As vistas demoram a se acostumar com o clarão que as rodas da carruagem celestial do pai descia dos céus. Bem-vindo de volta, papai, clamava, porém era recebida em silêncio.

Aos poucos, se acostumou a não falar tanto. Não retribuir, não repreender, não se opor. Não questionava por que não reluzia na água feito as outras náiades, ou tinha os cabelos castanhos e sedosos, por mais que os escovasse com os pentes de marfim. Na época de se casar, também não argumentou contra o matrimônio com um príncipe de uma cidade qualquer. Até hoje, ela não se lembra do nome exato.

Para classificá-lo, poderia usar um termo que fosse do horrendo ao desprezível, com tranquilidade. Sua boca tinha gosto salgado, e o som de sua voz martelava profundo na cabeça da jovem toda vez que abria a boca para dizer algo. Circe não se agradou da cama, da casa, das restrições, dos apelidos enfadonhos que recebia nas noites em que o álcool o tomava o juízo. Então, ela o matou.

Rebelde, insensata, má, foram algumas das palavras que ouviu de sua mãe ao ser devolvida nos salões do palácio. Era incompreensível para Perseis como sua filha havia retornado para casa sem uma moeda de ouro ou um herdeiro para recorrer um trono. Os cochichos sobre ervas e misturas de água quente não faziam sentido, de onde a prole de uma náiade saberia dosar veneno no cálice de vinho de alguém?

Hélio não sabia o que fazer, consumido pela decepção que tanto esforçou-se para afugentar, embora tenha visto nos olhos daquele bebê o destino miserável que o aguardava. Não queria ouvir quando os sussurros contavam sobre o terror daquele banquete em que o príncipe fora transformado em um besouro azul e pisoteado pela esposa de olhos amarelos.

Só que escutou quando Zeus murmurou em seu ouvido uma solução.

— Se odiais tanto a presença de um filho sem honra, exilai-o longe de suas preocupações.

O castigo pareceu justo. Sozinha, em exílio, Circe não seria a aberração do palácio do titã do sol. Não sentiria mais o gosto salgado dos beijos, as mãos ásperas que um dia já envolveram seu corpo. Seria somente ela e aquilo a que deu o nome de magia. E todo homem que aportasse em cais teria o mesmo fim que o primeiro.

Mas o corpo que amanheceu em sua praia não pertencia a nenhum homem.

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OS SEUS OLHOS SE ABREM DEVAGAR, a visão turva impede que reconheça perfeitamente o ambiente em que está, mas as curvas sem foco à sua frente não negam que se encontra sobre o teto de alguém, em um cômodo bem iluminado e decorado. Pisca as pálpebras, apetecendo, agora, com a pontada que sente se desprender quase que de dentro do cérebro.

Zonza, sente a cabeça pesada. Recosta na parede atrás de si. Os músculos, inicialmente, dormentes te dão a impressão de que está nas nuvens, flutuando. Até que a realidade bate e mais dores se somam ao desconforto. As pernas latejam, mas a pele está emaranhada em um tecido suave e escorregadio. Os braços doem, formigando, e só se dá conta do porquê de tamanho incômodo quando olha para os lados e percebe os punhos erguidos no ar por um pedaço de pano amarrado ao dossel de madeira da cama.

A primeira reação, claro, é se soltar. Luta contra a própria dor para puxar os punhos em direção ao corpo deitado para afrouxar as amarras, força ao máximo que o estado debilitado permite, ouvindo o estalo da madeira. Porém, é em vão.

Franze o cenho. Não deveria ser tão difícil para você conseguir se libertar assim, até que o ressoar de risadinhas doces ecoam pelo cômodo e levam os seus olhos para a beirada da cama, aos seus pés.

Vê a forma que as cabecinhas formam montanhas com seus cabelos esverdeados. Os olhinhos curiosos se erguendo do “esconderijo” para espiar a movimentação que se dá sobre a cama. Murmuram entre si, sorrindo. Ninfas, você soube na hora. Mas elas servem a alguém, quem era sua senhora?

— Saiam, saiam! — a resposta surge com o chegar de outra mulher ao recinto. Ela balança as mãos, causando um alvoroço entre todas as criaturas que estavam escondidas debaixo dos móveis para descobrir mais sobre o estranho que aportou naquela manhã.

As ninfas choramingam, passando por cima das mesas, jogando as peças de cerâmica no chão, mas não desrespeitam a ordem. Deixam todas o quarto, fechando a porta ao saírem.

— Perdoa pela confusão — a mulher diz, com um sorriso —, elas estão morrendo de curiosidade.

Você a assiste se aproximar mais. Acompanha como caminha em paz ao móvel à sua direita para despejar um pouco do líquido da jarra para o cálice. Se vira com o objeto em mãos, te oferecendo.

— Onde estou? — é o que a pergunta.

— Na minha casa — ela responde. — Bebe.

— Me solte — pede, ignorando completamente a oferta. — Com certeza, não estou no lugar onde deveria estar. — Torna a face para o próprio corpo estirado sobre o tecido e não reconhece a roupa que está vestindo. — O que fizeste com as minhas coisas? Onde estão minhas coisas?

— As ninfas te acomodaram — justifica. — A roupa molhada não te faria bem, e não havia mais nada contigo quando te encontramos na praia. Vamos, bebe.

— Mentira! — roga, virando-se para ela mais uma vez. O cálice está a milímetros dos seus lábios, mas não cede. — Eu trazia uma bolsa comigo, em meu barco, e quero de volta.

A mulher parece se controlar para não perder a paciência, respira fundo. Senta-se no cantinho da cama.

— Escuta — começa —, se estavas em alguma embarcação no caminho para cá, os destroços estão no fundo do oceano. Não havia mais nada além de ti.

Você escuta, mas claramente não digere.

— E se não queria perder sua bolsa — ela continua —, deveria tê-la segurado com mais força.

Argh, você grunhe, não conformada com o que ouve. Os braços doloridos voltam a ser flexionados, conforme tenta escapar mais uma vez.

— Não gaste tanto esforço — ela te aconselha —, não vai se soltar.

— O quê... — murmura, impaciente. Te aflige a forma com que puxa com o máximo de força que possui e mesmo assim o tecido nem fraqueja. — On... Onde estou? Que lugar é esse? Não te pedi para que me trouxesse para cá!

— Por que é tão ingrata? — levemente se irrita. Hum, resmunga, erguendo-se para largar o cálice de volta no móvel onde estava. — Está me fazendo arrepender de ter sido tão boa...

— Boa?! — repete, incrédula. — Me mantém presa à tua cama!

— Porque não confio em ti.

— Pois eu não confio em ti.

Ela pende a cabeça pro lado, te observando com pouco crédito. Se inclina, de surpresa, apoiando as mãos nos cantos do seu corpo debilitado para estar pertinho do seu rosto quando diz “certo, quer sair?”

— Espero muito que seja uma guerreira habilidosa e não uma filha de pescador qualquer, porque aí pode conseguir caminhar para fora deste palácio antes que os lobos te peguem. — O tom na voz dela é de pura gozação, como se menosprezasse até o ar que você inala nas quatro paredes do domínio dela. — E que os deuses te protejam para que não seja devorada pelos leões no caminho à praia e possa morrer de exaustão nadando sem rumo pelo oceano.

A ameaça em si não te assusta, o que desperta o seu alarde é a descrição singular. Na mente, as pecinhas desse quebra-cabeça vão se unindo para formular uma resposta para as suas perguntas.

Se lembra da fúria que enfrentou naquela tempestade a mar aberto, sem saber se sobreviveria e onde os destroços do naufrágio iriam parar. No entanto, as suas preces parecem ter sido ouvidas, pois Nêmesis te trouxe para a casa de uma das mulheres mais fascinantes da qual já ouviu falar.

Se lembra do eco da canção nas noites de festa, a lira ao fundo acompanhando a voz que recitava os versos sobre a lenda de uma jovem rebelde, insensata e má. Em exílio em uma ilha, à espreita de nobres cavalheiros que aportassem em seu cais. Embebedando cada um em seus banquetes de recepção e transformando-os em criaturas variadas para cultivar seu zoológico pessoal.

É, você a conhece muito bem. Deveria ter se tocado assim que colocou os olhos no olhar profundo e amarelado como uma águia.

— Esta é Eéia — anuncia o nome da ilha. — Tu és Circe — um sorriso ameaça crescer nos lábios da mulher —, a primeira bruxa.

Circe endireita a postura, não sabendo bem como receber esse título.

— Então é assim que me conhecem... Interessante — murmura, de queixo erguido.

— Cantam canções sobre ti, seus feitos.

— Hm, é mesmo?

— Circe dos olhos de águia. Algumas aldeias te veneram.

— Me bajular não vai fazer com que eu te solte.

Você meneia o rosto para o lado contrário, sem graça depois que suas intenções são desmascaradas. Porém, é obrigada a encará-la novamente mais quando ela te segura pelo queixo, “é minha vez de fazer as perguntas agora.”

— Qual teu nome? Da onde vens?

As suas palavras são engolidas, não emite um som em resposta sequer. E Circe espera, de bom grado, olhando no fundo dos seus olhos em busca de uma pista qualquer, mas não encontra nada.

— Além de ingrata, é muito egoísta — te diz —, como pode saber tanto sobre mim quando não sei nada sobre ti? — Sorri, soltando teu rosto. — Se não vai falar, te aconselho a beber — torna a atenção para o cálice cheio —, até que eu me decida o que fazer contigo, não quero que morra desidratada.

Se inclina, com aquele mesmo tom gozador de antes. “Sabe, é a primeira vez que isso me acontece” , ela conta, “normalmente, eu convido os marinheiros para um banquete e os amaldiçoo, eu odeio marinheiros. Mas tu não és um marinheiro como os outros... Então, pode ser que eu demore um tempo até me decidir.”

E ela não tem pressa. Os dias se somam, pela manhã as ninfas adentram o quarto para te alimentar e saem logo em seguida, silenciosas, porém risonhas. Não vê ou escuta a bruxa, como se ela nem existisse ou fosse a dona daquele palácio. O que compõe a sinfonia para os seus ouvidos é o som dos animais de pequeno porte que invadem pela janela, feito os macaquinhos e os pássaros, e o rugido dos leões. À noite, por vezes, o que julga ser uma união das vozes doces das ninfas te mantém acordada. Os gemidos prolongados, longe de choramingar por dor, mas por prazer.

Não demora a compreender que para Circe, você não tem valor algum. Com o tempo, não tem dúvidas, as servas deixaram de te trazer o cálice de kykeon com uma mistura fortificada com cevada e morrerá de fome. E se não tem valor nenhum à bruxa, talvez seja melhor mostrar para a bruxa que ela tem valor para ti.

— Diga a tua senhora que estou pronta para falar com ela — é o que orienta as ninfas numa manhã.

Circe manda organizar um pequeno festim. Você recebe uma túnica nova e um par de sandálias de couro. É banhada, vestida, o cinto lhe molda a cintura. Quando sai do quarto pela primeira vez, a decoração do lado de fora não se diferencia muito do que via no confinamento. Peças de cerâmica espatifadas pelo chão, cortinas rasgadas pelos animais, as formosas ninfas penduradas nas pilastras, olhando-te com sorrisos bobos nos lábios vermelhinhos.

Atravessa o pátio até o grande salão, sentindo-se pequena entre as feras deitadas sobre o mosaico imenso. Circe está deitada num divã, puxando as uvas do cacho e rindo. Traja uma túnica com detalhes em vermelho e dourado, unida no ombro esquerdo pelo broche de cabeça de leão. As tochas e as velas ajudam a lua a iluminar o ambiente. Ao canto, o som da lira se mistura aos demais instrumentos de sopro e o som da ninfa que cantarola com um coelho no colo.

— Ah, aí está ela! — O sorriso de Circe aumenta ao te ver. Apanha a taça na mesinha de apoio cheia de frutas e o ergue no ar, como se brindasse sozinha, antes de beber um gole.

As servas te acomodam à mesinha redonda em frente ao divã, sentada sobre as almofadas e os lençóis estirados. Um cálice te é oferecido, adoçam o vinho com mel para que a bebida forte desça mais facilmente pela garganta seca. Prova do peixe frito, controlando a própria fome para não parecer ingrata pela sopa que recebia todos os dias.

Os aperitivos parecem se multiplicar nas mesinhas espalhadas pela área coberta, chamativos. Mas você precisa manter a cabeça em foco.

— Espero que perdoe meu silêncio — faz com que a voz sobressaia de leve por cima da música, do canto em coral e do som dos passos dançados no pátio.

Circe espia brevemente na sua direção, com um sorriso pequeno.

— No teu lugar, eu também temeria.

Você leva uma unidade do cacho de uvas à boca, sentando-se aos pés do divã.

— Mas não preciso temer-te agora, preciso?

A bruxa lhe oferece mais um olhar, dessa vez com o sorriso mais largo.

— Pareço com alguém que deve temer?

É a sua vez de sorrir, desviando a atenção para o festejo que as ninfas realizam entre si.

— Não estava em meus planos atracar em tuas terras — admite a ela —, mas estou contente que assim o fiz. Tens me alimentado e por isso sou grata.

— Sou benevolente demais, é um defeito meu.

— E muito inteligente, eu suponho. Especialmente porque vai aceitar a minha oferta.

Ela aperta o cenho, não te leva a sério.

— Oh, tem uma oferta pra mim? — o tom divertido não te intimida.

— Estava certa ao duvidar de uma mulher que naufraga sozinha na tua praia — começa, em sua própria defesa. — Eu não sou filha de um pescador, ou de um comerciante qualquer. Eu naufraguei na tua ilha porque estava fugindo.

Agora, ela se interessa, “e do que estava fugindo?”

— Do meu destino — a sua resposta não é a mais precisa de todas, porém é suficiente. — Uma grande tempestade assombrava o mar naquela noite, eu, de fato, pensei que não fosse sobreviver. Mas eu rezei para que aquele não fosse meu último suspiro, e as minhas preces me trouxeram para cá, para que eu possa concluir a minha missão.

— E que tipo de missão é essa?

Você desce o olhar para o cálice em mãos. À medida que o vinha desaparece, a pintura de um guerreiro empunhando a espada surge no fundo da taça. Vingança.

— Irei subir até o topo da morada dos deuses e castigar Zeus por toda tormenta que trouxe à minha vida.

Talvez fosse a ousadia de subir o monte sem ao menos dispor de um veículo de locomoção, e possivelmente o nome sagrado dito com tamanho desprezo, Zeus, que faz Circe rir como se tivesse ouvido a piada mais bem contada no palco de uma peça.

— Quer se vingar de Zeus?! — claramente não leva seus planos a sério. — Ah, querida, não tem nem uma adaga de bolso para a viagem. Eu posso envenenar-te com esse cálice que segura e tu não conseguirias se defender. E fala de matar Zeus?! O Deus dos Deuses?

Você finaliza o vinho, para mostrar que nem a ameaça da boca pra fora dela te faz temer.

— Não tenho uma espada comigo agora, é verdade. — A olha. — Mas você me dará uma.

Circe apoia o cotovelo no descanso do divã, para chegar mais perto de ti.

— Sinto que as canções que cantaram-te eram enganosas — rebate, com a voz afiada —, pois não sou nenhum mestre da forja. Eu não crio coisas, querida, eu as transformo.

E você não se deixa intimidar.

— Não, não terá que criar nada — argumenta. — A espada que empunharei até o Olimpo será feita pelo próprio ferreiro dos deuses.

— Hefesto? — ela duvida mais uma vez. — E ele já está ciente dessa loucura?

— Ele estará, assim que chegarmos ao Submundo.

O som da risada divertida da bruxa se destaca entre a orquestra. Circe joga a cabeça para trás, manejando a taça em mãos. Recupera o fôlego sem pressa, cruelmente debruçada na comicidade para te penetrar o mínimo de juízo.

Para você, entretanto, não existe uma frase racional sequer que possa te fazer desistir do plano que elaborou meticulosamente em todos esses dias de confinamento. Enquanto as ninfas te alimentavam, tratavam as feridas superficiais que o naufrágio deixou, e os animais passeavam pela sua cama, a mente entrelaçava um percurso ousado desde de Eéia até a região da Tessália. Todas as cidades em que iria passar, com quem iria conversar e quem iria matar pelo caminho.

O riso que recebe agora é só um prelúdio para o choro incessante que despertará no panteão.

— Quando Hefesto me construir a espada, eu te entregarei o metal — você prossegue, inabalada —, e caberá a ti transformá-lo.

“Te confiarei o meu sangue, pois somente um deus pode matar outro deus”, fala, “para que abençoe a espada, e faças dela uma matadora de deuses.”

O sorriso de Circe diminui aos poucos, és uma semideusa, murmura, se familiarizando melhor com a situação que lida.

— Oh, entendo agora... — o indicador circula pela beirada da taça. — Este é um impasse familiar? Por isso quer vingança... Mas, se tratando de família, temo que devo me retirar, pois já tenho impasses desse tipo por conta própria.

Você não se dá por vencida facilmente.

— Pense em tudo que conquistará — apela. — Depois que eu matar Zeus, e eu o matarei — frisa —, quem estará sob o comando do Olimpo, uma vez que eu não disponho de nenhum interesse de poder?

— A Rainha, certamente.

— Não quando o rei dela cairá pelas minhas mãos. — Você se apruma de joelhos, mais pertinho do corpo estirado no divã. — Pode ter muito mais do que a Ilha. Uma mulher tão poderosa quanto tu não deveria estar exilada e solitária.

— Não estou sozinha.

— Eles cantam canções sobre ti, Circe. Sobre teu poder, tua grandeza. Não imagina quantas garotas por aí queriam poder gozar dos mesmos encantos que prega para se protegerem dos homens do mundo.

Apoia-se com a palma no descanso do estofado para se posicionar atrás dela. A boca ao pé do ouvido, feito uma tentação. “Poderia ser adorada como uma deusa, e responder às preces que te rogam.”

“Não tem que se contentar com os marinheiros que aportam uma vez a cada lua cheia, ou às vezes nem mesmo atracam... Não nasceste para viver nessa ilha, por mais que tenha se acostumado a chamá-la de lar. Está aqui porque te colocaram aqui. Zeus te colocou aqui.”

— Meu pai me colocou aqui — ela retruca, cuspindo cada palavra após terem tocado em sua ferida ainda aberta.

— Porque ele ouviu Zeus — você corrige mais uma vez. — Hélio teria feito diferente se não fosse pela influência daquele que chamaram de Deus dos Deuses.

— Você não conhece meu pai.

— Mas conheço Zeus.

“Eu sei do que ele é capaz”, completa. “Eu vivi a sua fúria, se eu não tenho mais uma casa para qual retornar é por sua culpa. Ele já nos causou mal demais”, aproxima-se do outro ouvido, para sussurrar: é hora de fazê-lo pagar.

Circe mantém a postura. Os olhos de águia, antes tão caçadores, agora fogem do seu olhar. Beberica do vinho em mãos, murmurando um “vou pensar com misericórdia”, tentando trazer de volta o mesmo tom gozador que já usou previamente contigo.

— Levem-na para celebrar! — orienta as servas, com aceno das mãos.

— Eu não celebro — você contradiz, em vão, pois as mãozinhas finas das ninfas te tocam os ombros e guiam para fora da área coberta.

É levada até o pátio, no centro do mosaico. Aos seus pés, o desenho que se forma com pedrinhas coloridas ilustra a cena de uma batalha sanguinária, a lâmina reluzente é erguida à mão de uma mulher. Dizem, nos cânticos, que o mosaico encantado no palácio da primeira bruxa revela aos olhos desatentos dos homens que ela embriaga o futuro que os aguarda.

Guerra, sangue, destruição. As faces assustadas e o mar de cabeças rolando não te aflige.

À sua volta os corpos belos e mal vestidos da ninfas rondam-te como presas. Cabelos extensos, passando da cintura e quase no joelho. O brilho da pele feérica cintila sob o banho da lua, somam-se ao ecoar dos instrumentos de sopro, ao tambor, e as vozes tão melosas quanto o mel que adoçou teu vinho.

Se cobrem com o véu, para valsarem ao seu rodar em sincronia. De repente, está com a visão totalmente monopolizada por elas. Aquilo que dizem sobre as ninfas, sua capacidade de hipnotizar quem quer que almejem, aqui pode provar da procedência. Talvez seja o efeito do álcool que ingeriu, é uma boa explicação senão o misticismo daquelas criaturas da floresta, quando a visão fica turva, perdendo o foco de supetão e voltando ao normal.

Sente o som dos tambores batendo no seu coração, o corpo pesar. Esquenta a pele, como se a temperatura ambiente tivesse ido às alturas em um verão mais árido que o normal. Cambaleia, perde a noção de equilíbrio. As vozes cantam no fundo do seu ouvido, parecem moldar o caminho incorreto que as suas sandálias traçam.

Olha ao redor, em busca de algo que faça sentido, e só enxerga a insanidade. Os sorrisos imorais, o mover depravado de corpo em corpo. Os rostinhos falsamente inocentes abraçados às árvores do jardim. Corpos se eriçando feito bestas, unhas pontiagudas como garras de caça. Olhos brilhando na escuridão que se guarda nos limites do refúgio infame da bruxa.

Mas um olhar se destaca entre o mar de lascividade. Grandes, profundos, amarelados. Estreitos nas pontas como uma águia.

Você pisa em falso, vai de encontro ao chão para ser recebida pelo conforto de almofadas e mantas, e descansa a nuca no pelo de um leão. O par de mãos que sobe pelas suas canelas não se importa com o limite que a sua túnica estabelece. Toque quente, queima junto à sua pele, arrepia até o último fio de cabelo. E aqueles olhos ferventes... Aqueles malditos olhos de cigana oblíqua e dissimulada. Olhos de quem percebe tudo, tudo sem dizer nada.

— Circe — chama o nome dela, segurando em seus ombros, como se evocasse um demônio. — Não me tente, bruxa.

— É isso que achas que estou fazendo? — O sorriso ladino se espalha pela boca como verme. A ponta do nariz roça na sua, respiração soprando contra o seu rosto.

Ardilosa, ela se acomoda sobre o seu colo, permite que o calor entre as pernas te aqueça o ventre por cima da fina camada de tecido que ainda lhes cobre a nudez. Os longos cabelos negros recaem para o canto, conforme se inclina, “nunca conheci nenhuma mulher além das ninfas”, ela conta, “me deixe experimentar você.”

É o feitiço em efeito, só pode ser, pois se doa sem pensar muito nas consequências. A última vez que vê o rosto dela é quando já está se aproximando no meio das suas pernas, com um sorriso libidinoso e os quadris eriçados, de quatro sobre o chão.

Encara a lua cheia no céu noturno. A imensidão vazia às bordas só não te captura a atenção porque o baixo ventre se remexe em prazer. Sente o carinho dos dedos te circulando, escorregando entre as dobrinhas conforme se molha mais e mais. O nariz se esfrega no seu monte de vênus, sensual, inebriando-se no seu cheiro antes de te provar o sabor. Quando a boca vem, você se agarra aos lençóis ao seu redor.

Pode ouvir os sons das ninfas, jura, uma orquestra erótica se fortificando ao pé do seu ouvido como se quisesse te levar à loucura. Desce as mãos pelo próprio corpo, toca os fios escorridos da moça e os toma na palma. Feito a guiasse, mantém o controle da carícia que recebe. Os olhos se fecham, um suspiro longo deixando o seu peito ao se entregar mais e mais. Desde que saiu de casa, empurrando aquele barco simples pela areia até a praia, de todos os possíveis cenários que protagonizaria em seu futuro, nenhum deles envolvia estar aqui onde está, com quem está, fazendo o que faz agora. E não é como se arrependesse, entenda.

Encontra-se à beira, quase derramando, mas não permite-se entregar ao deleite. A ergue pelos cabelos, bruta na maneira de manejá-la de volta aos teus braços. É fácil romper o broche de cabeça de leão na altura dos ombros alheios, maior ainda é a facilidade para desfazer as amarras da túnica que ela usa.

Num movimento único, a coloca sob ti, tão habilidosa com a arte de mover-se que arranca um daqueles sorrisinhos debochados que ela tem. A separa as pernas e se posiciona de modo que possam ficar bem encaixadinhas. A conexão é tão úmida, o seu desejo se misturando ao dela quando se encontram dessa forma. Deixa que a perna dela descanse no seu ombro, movendo os seus quadris contra o corpo feminino.

Circe leva a mão à sua cintura, aperta. Puxa o seu cinto, desfaz a cobertura que a túnica promove somente para poder arrastar as unhas da sua barriga às costelas. E você grunhe, ardendo não só pelo carinho arisco, mas pela ousadia de quem tecnicamente está sob seu controle.

— Má — a sua voz soa mais baixa, num murmuro como se não quisesse que ninguém além dela escutasse. — Pensei que fosse boa, esse era o seu defeito, não era?

Ela se delicia com as palavras, com o tom aveludado. Eu sou quem eu quero ser.

Amar Circe foi uma das melhores coisas que já fez, não só pela experiência nova e erótica, mas também pela conexão que se estabelece ao fazer dela sua primeira companheira. Deita ao canto dela, ao fim, quase se perde com o olhar pelo desenho do corpo nu, de lado com a cabeça sobre os lençóis macios. Os cabelos negros recaem em cascata, são jogados para trás e limpam o rosto corado, os olhos brilhantes.

Ela encolhe de leve a postura, o ombrinho tocando a bochecha.

— Eu vou contigo — diz.

Você apenas sorri, num suspiro que mistura o cansaço e o alívio.

— Mas, se me trair... — ela ameaça.

— Não vou te trair — garante. — Pareço com alguém que deves temer?

Tomam a noite para si, para o ócio. Com o nascer da manhã, porém, devem de partir. Faltam quatro dias para o fim do verão, e se querem uma passagem para o Submundo, estão com o tempo contado.

#imninahchan #pt br #wlw #blackpink #aespa #red velvet #aespa smut #ningning #ningning smut #ning yizhuo #gg fanfic #aespa fanfic #akrasia #greek mythology #mitologia grega #literatura sáfica #sáfico

[abi1821]

Vampire Beth and Rio finally give us some smut 😈

#nbc good girls #brio #brio fanfiction #brioficweek2024 #beth x rio #gg fanfic #vampire au #vampire sex

[incorrectgallaghergirlsquotes]

Hello!!! Would you please make something about the scene before Zach sleeps in cam's bed in UWS? ( Like immediately after his mission with joe) cause he said he got stupid? Thanks!

Hello! You guys! This goes in the basket with the scene where he finds Macey instead of Cammie. I love this scene. I think I have an in depth analysis of it in my drafts. (Update: I DO. I'll post it next.) Let's do it!

Rachel softly closed the door to her office. The man inside would be fine for now. The boy in the hallway, however...

"Thanks for getting him back in one piece." Rachel told Zach. He was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, and not looking at her.

"It was the least I could do," was all he said. "I can, um,"

"Stay." Rachel interrupted. "Zach, these things happen. But you both made it back," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's what is important."

Zach looked from her hand and then finally to her face. Finding only sincerity there, he nodded.

She smiled at him. "Good. Besides, I think my daughter will be very upset if she doesn't get to see you when she gets back."

Zach inhaled, of course Rachel had anticipated the question he had wanted to ask. "Is she...?"

"She should be back soon," Rachel said. "You should wait for her."

Zach nodded. He moved to follow her back into her office, but Rachel blocked him. "Why don't you head up to the girls room?" she asked.

Zach seemed taken aback by the suggestion. He blinked at her, trying to judge if it was a test or something. Rachel just smiled at him. "They should go up there directly after arriving anyway. If not, that's where I'll send her. She'll be happy to see you."

It struck Zach in that moment that somewhere along the way, Rachel had decided she trusted him.

She was still smiling at him. "I trust you know the way?" When he nodded, she waved her arm in dismissal. She went back into the office to tend to Joe while Zach made his way through the halls.

As excited as he was to see Cammie, the guilt over what happened on his mission with Joe was weighing on him. With every step he realized he didn't know how Cammie would be returning. What if she had been hurt? Rachel hadn't said anything, but maybe she didn't know yet.

He reached her door and paused. Maybe this was a bad idea. Or maybe it was the self sabotage talking.

The girls had locked their door, which Zach had anticipated. That hadn't been a problem in the past (a thought that he hated out of context). It did strike him that Rachel had also likely anticipated that and that Zach would still be able to get in.

Their lives were weird.

The room was different without at least some of the girls present. It still had the lived in, homey feel and character of the four girls it was just... still.

He found himself moving around the room, the door clicking shut behind him. He had never spent a long amount of time in the girls room and when he had been in there his focus had been on one thing in particular. It was like, for the first time, he processed there were things in that room. Books and make up and scrunchies and pens and trinkets pertaining to each girl. He found himself walking around Cammie's bed, gaze trained on her bedside table.

There was a picture of her and her mom and another of her with Bex and Liz, probably from their first year. Next to them were photobooth pictures of them with Macey, possibly from the semester Zach had been there. There was a tube of chapstick, a few hair ties, a necklace, and other usual items. It was interesting how a few years ago he would have looked at all those items to learn about her, but now it didn't tell him anything he didn't already know.

Without anything else to occupy himself, he suddenly felt awkward. What was he supposed to do until she got back? Standing in the room felt weird, but so did sitting at her desk, or on her bed. He was still by her bedside table so he sat on the bed, testing it out. He wasn't facing the door so he didn't feel quite like a puppy waiting for it's person to get home.

It was then that he realized, in typical Cammie fashion, she hadn't bothered to make her bed before leaving. Which he could single her out for because all of her roommates had made theirs.

Smiling, he at least rearranged her comforter so it looked more put together. She'd likely be tired when she got back, he knew he was. Although, it hadn't hit him until he sat on her bed again. The beds at the Gallagher Academy were the most comfortable he'd ever been fortunate enough to sleep on.

Careful to keep his shoes off her bed, he let himself recline back. His head fell on Cammie's pillow and he became engulfed in the scent of her shampoo. And just... her. It was sweet but subtle. Flowery and... something else.

Zach hadn't planned on his eyes drifting shut. He caught himself a few times and tried to shake himself out of it. He couldn't, however, bring himself to get up again.

Ultimately, Cammie won out and he drifted off to sleep. Surrounded by her both physically and in his thoughts.

It paled in comparison to waking up to the sound of her saying his name. He opened his eyes and there she was. Perfect.

#ask #answered #gg fanfic #gallagher girls #gallagher girls series #zach goode #cammie morgan

[cammie-morgan-goode]

Usually when a teenager thinks of summer vacation, they think of hanging out at the beach or going to the mall or hanging with their friends more than their families. They associate summer with freedom.

I never had that. I never had to worry about running off to the beach or going to see my grandparents or anything. Not that I still have any but that’s beside the point.

I don’t need to look up from the book I’m reading to know that Cam is basking in the sun, her face towards the sky. She’s listening to Bex prattle on about the next James Bond movie when a group of boys pass by, ultimately ending the conversation. Bex isn’t boy crazy just… boy distracted. And it always makes me laugh.

Cam doesn’t know I’m here and that’s just the way I prefer it. She doesn’t need to know that I check up on her. She doesn’t need to know that I feel she’s safer with me just out of reach. She doesn’t need to know that I worry.

Bex throws her arms out wide and I can practically hear her accent. I watch as the group of boys pivots, turning around. A boy with tanned skin and dark hair, saunters up to Bex, eyeing her up and down. Bex could definitely take him down with one punch but I know that would cause a scene.

“What’s a girl like you doing here?” The boy asks, and I have to fight to roll my eyes.

Bex tosses her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyes. Cammie’s never done that. She’s never flirted with me before. Not that she’s needed to. I was hooked the minute we were partnered up in Solomon’s class.

“Just visiting,” Bex answers. I can see the boy practically melt from her accent. I can’t help but chuckle.

I drop my book into the open black bag at my feet and pull my shirt over my head. I shake out my hair a little bit, giving it a wind blown look. Taking off my shoes, I drop my shirt on top of them. And then I jog over to where the girls are.

“They didn’t have that smoothie you wanted babe, so I wasn’t sure which kind you would like instead,” I say a few steps in front of them.

Cammie’s mouth drops open for five seconds before she clears her throat with a cough. Bex nudges her with her elbow, as if to say real smooth.

I come to a stop next to Cam, lean down and kiss her cheek, before I straighten and offer a hand to Beach Boy. “I’m Zach. And you are?”

Beach Boy laughs like he’s uncomfortable and tells Bex that she can join his game anytime she’d like before he disappears in the sea of people. I roll my shoulders and drop onto the towel beside Cammie. She turns to look at me.

“What are you doing here, Zach?” She asks, confused.

“Thought I’d pop in, say hi,” I shrug, stealing a grape from the food on her plate, resting on her lap.

“Well while you two have some catching up to do, I’m going to find a distraction,” Bex says, getting up and sauntering back over to the group of boys. I shake my head.

Cammie doesn’t even watch her go, her attention fixed on me. I can practically see the questions turning in her head. But she only stares at me. Waiting. Always waiting.

“I can’t drop in and see my girlfriend?” I ask.

But Cammie gives me the look. The look that says stop trying to avoid the question. The look that says I’m over your games Zachary.

I sigh and look out towards the water. “Townsend missed a call-in.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “And so did Rachel.”

Cammie stills. She stares at me. It seems like she can’t say anything. “Does Joe know?” She asks, her voice cracking.

“Yes. He’s with the Baxters at the safe house right now. I’m sure it’s okay, Gallagher Girl. I just didn’t want to ruin your summer,” I say quietly.

Cammie shakes her head. “No. No. I needed to know. I’m glad you told me. How many?” She asks.

I pause and chew on my bottom lip. “Four.”

Cammie sucks in a break and take her hands. “It’s going to be okay, Cam. I promise. It’s going to be okay.”

And I don’t quite know if I’m saying that for her benefit or mine.

(Written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)

#gallagher girls series #gallagher girls #ally carter #cammie morgan goode writes #zach goode #zachary goode #cammie morgan #cameron morgan #I’m trying to get back into writing so here’s a blurb #gg fanfic #gg #rebecca baxter #bex baxter #zammie #Zach and Cammie #cammie and zach

[sdktrs12]

HEY!

I could really use your librarian skills rn👩🏻‍🏫

Do you know that highschool Brio fic where beth ends pregnant at some point? Do you happen to have the link to it?

Thank You!

Heya anon!

I have a list of high school (and college) fic here and these are the ones that have a pregnancy storyline at some point:

Irresistible series by wakeupflawless

A Moment In Time With You by Strawmari

Under and Out series by aumontalc

All three of these stories follow brio from high school and beyond and feature ah-mazing angst and fluff.

Happy reading!

#asks #anon #gg fanfic #gg fic recs #let me know if you were looking for something different #I'm more than happy to see what else I can find!

[honeyannaglass]

Oh. Oh no. OH NO. NO.

#I have been dragged back to 2010 #kicking and screaming #ao3 #gallagher girls #FMA #gallagher girls series #gg fanfic #fmab

[guiltygearbridget]

For @nostalgic-soda's ficoween prompt 24: Decor! (i hope this fits the prompt adshjf)

my first ever guilty gear fic! sorry if the characterization is a bit off asdjghf, hope you enjoy!!! :D

#guilty gear #guilty gear fanfic #guilty gear fanfiction #gg fanfic #gg fanfiction #testament #johnny #may #johnny guilty gear #may guilty gear #testament guilty gear #testament gg #may gg #johnny gg #ficoween #johnny x testament #johnnytest

[tiny-pretty-sana]

꒰ about me ꒱

✿ dahlia ❀ she/her ✿ '99 ❀ sapphic ✿

✿ twice · (g)i-dle · red velvet · mamamoo · le sserafim · aespa · itzy

꒰ what i write ꒱

✿ what i'll write → girl groups only, idol x idol, idol x reader, wlw, hc’s, one shots, mostly au’s, fluff, angst, smut, sfw, nsfw and requests (closed atm).

✿ first time writing idol x reader, hc’s or smut/nfsw so i’m doing my best.

✿ what i won't write → minor idols / -20 idols, non-con, omegaverse, for or about men and anything that makes me uncomfortable.

꒰ rules ꒱

✿ dni: -18, basic dni criteria.

✿ requests that make me uncomfortable will be deleted.

˚₊‧ ꒰❀ masterlist | tags |request:closed| ao3 ❀꒱ ‧₊˚

#intro post #pinned bios #read byf #men dni #about tiny-pretty-sana #kpop gg #kpop fic #gg fanfic #idol x reader #idol x idol #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop headcanons

[peachraindrops]

Good Girls Appreciation Week 2022: Day 3 - Favorite Rio Moment-> Anything with Rio's H A N D S.

So I wrote a Rio 5+1 fic centered completely around his hands!

Five times Rio roughs up his hands and the one time he softens them.

#sorry i'm late but i did this in like 12 sporadic hours because it was a late idea lol #ggaw2022 #i'm so happy with how this turned out!! #rio good girls #nbc good girls #brio #beth x rio #rios hands #rio appreciation day #that's what this is for me hahaha #gg fanfic

[littleengine74]

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Thanks @entwinedloop for tagging me. I don’t usually do these, but you have to start somewhere, right? Here goes!

1. Enemy of My Enemy

Rio frowned and took another look around the empty space.

2. Deck The Halls

“Elizabeth!” Rio snapped, stepping down off the short ladder, his nerves fraying as Beth directed him - for the third time in as many minutes - on how to adjust the end of the garland to even it out.

3. Is This Seat Taken

“Is this seat taken?”

4. You’ve Been Served

“Hey, man, I’ll have whatever she’s havin.”

5. What Would Elizabeth Do?

Beth pushed open the door of the cafe and made a beeline for the counter to get an extra-large of her usual.

6. Muse

Beth sat back against the bar stool and took another sip of her drink.

7. Olive Branches and Birthday Cakes

Beth was running late for her next meeting, walking through the parking lot behind City Hall juggling her purse, laptop bag and coffee, when she heard her phone ring.

8. Smarter Than Your Average Gang Friend

It was late.

9. Better Than Chocolate

Elizabeth - I need to cancel tonight.

10. Siren Song

Between fighting with Dean about his reluctance to take the kids for the entire week like he was supposed to, and all the extra hours she’d been working to get Rio’s latest printing order finished on time, it felt like she hadn’t had any time just for herself in months.

Patterns? The first lines don’t always give it away, but my fics are all Brio, all the time, so there’s no mixing of the ships in this selection. I do seem to have them eating or drinking an awful lot, but other than that I’m not sure if I see any real patterns. Some first sentences are longer/more detailed than others, some are… not (numbers 3 and 8, I’m looking at you, you slackers! 🤣).

Tagging: @michelleelizabethtanner @abi1821 @merelyafigment @faceless-inthecrowd @moveslikeagazelle @sillywoman01 (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!)

#brio #rio x beth #nbc good girls #beth x rio #gg fanfic #brio fic #brio fanfiction

[superblysubparhuman]

At the end of Gallagher Girls, we never really see how Zach and Cammie's relationship grew. I know some people hated that we never heard them say I love you or that there was just more we needed and wanted from them, but I personally liked that.

For one, they were 18, and had been through a lot, so like, no rush? And, also, they both knew the stakes of telling someone they loved them and then that person being gone forever, or never feeling it back. It's a scary thing to say those three little words out loud. So I wrote about it!

This is based off of Ally Carter's epilogue about Joe and Rachel's wedding happening later than graduation/spring. Also, I stole the names Andrew and Joy Morgan for Grandma and Grandpa Morgan's names thanks to Full Circle by @averagejoesolomon

Trigger Warning: There are some religious themes, church, faith, beliefs discussed so if that may be triggering for you in any way, please avoid and I apologize ❤️

Nebraska:

"Don't smirk. And don't be cocky."

Zach sighed next to me and my mother's lips threatened a smile. Joe looked out the window his knee bouncing up and down. I wondered why he was so nervous. When had he become a knee bouncer? But I couldn't focus on him, I had to focus on Zach.

I fixed his collar, "And say sir and ma'am. And if Grandma Morgan offers you fudge even though you're full and you've already had three helpings of potatoes, you say yes ma'am and thank you ma'am."

Joe smiled at this and Zach rolled his eyes, "Cammie, believe it or not I am a spy who can-"

"Also don't be too polite. Like don't over compliment the food. Grandma Morgan will see right through you and she'll call you out on it. And shake Grandpa Morgan's hand firmly. And when he starts talking about the military make sure you listen and nod and say thank you for your service. Oh, do you know a lot about baseball? Because he'll probably put a game on and ask you-"

My mother's hand went to stop mine as I tightened Zach's tie and he immediately loosened it and my hand was reaching up again, "He'll be fine Cammie. They're going to love him. Right Joe?"

Joe just looked at him long and hard and this made me more nervous. Joe blew out his breath, "Yeah. Make sure you don't look up until she says Amen during grace."

My mother laughed and the car came to a stop. Zach let out a deep breath as I climbed out of the car. My hair with a headband, a yellow sundress with white lace. I looked up at the small church with beautiful stained glass windows and brick with ivy on it that had always reminded me of Gallagher. I had never been an extremely religious person, but I took comfort in knowing there was something out there, maybe, watching over us.

And maybe I didn't believe it all, as I sat and listened to the sermons every Sunday during the summer, but the sound of my grandma singing hymns and my grandpa's strong Amen at the end of prayers was what I held my faith in, part of the many pieces holding Cameron Morgan together.

Zach was next to me in a gray suit and I saw him look up the steps, gulp, and straighten and tighten his tie. I could almost read his thoughts about right and wrong, good versus evil, worthy and unworthy all rising up in him from simply glancing at a small brick building.

"Cammie!"

I turned and saw my Grandpa coming towards me and his arms wrapped around me. There was just something about a hug from Grandpa Morgan. It felt like his strong arms could wrap around you twice, the safest and warmest place in the world. He smelled like the aftershave and soap he had used my whole life, but despite this a little bit of scruff scraped my cheek as he kissed it.

"Oh, Andrew, let her go, it's my turn!"

My grandma's arms shoved him off of me and she wrapped me up tighter than he had. She smelled like chocolate chip cookies and her head landed on my chest, "Goodness, did you get taller?"

Then she stepped back and touched my cheek, her smart and strong eyes glancing me over, "Are you getting enough food? Georgetown should be feeding you nicely in the fall. Did you get the cookies I sent?"

I smiled, "Yes ma'am. Had to fight off some people on my floor, tried to steal them."

She smiled proudly, "Well, no need for fighting. I'll just have to send some more with ya on your way home."

Her eyes shifted behind me slightly, "Rachel, are you not being fed properly either?"

Her arms moved to her and I watched my mother melt into a new woman like she always did around my grandparents. Maybe it was because their hugs were magic, but part of me suspected and deep down, knew, that mom never got hugs like these. Grandpa hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head and she stepped back and cleared her throat, motioning to Joe. I realized the ring wasn't on her finger.

Oh. That's why he's so nervous.

"Joy, Andrew, you remember Joe?"

My grandpa stuck out his hand, "Of course we do. How are you?"

"I'm well sir, thank you."

My grandma shoved his hand down as it moved to shake hers and she wrapped him in a hug. I bit back a smile as I watched the cool, calm, collected operative melt into a bashful, nervous, wreck of a man.

"You're not eating enough either. Good thing I've got plenty of potatoes, you're all string beans."

Her eyes shifted to Zach and I pulled his hand towards them, "Grandma, Grandpa, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend."

Zach stuck his hand out to my grandma first, "Zachary Goode. It's nice to meet you."

My grandma looked at him, then at me, her lips pursed, "Boyfriend?"

I nodded and she swatted his hand away, "I don't shake hands. Entirely impersonal. All I need to know about you Zachary is from a hug."

She hugged him and he grinned, hugging her back tightly. She nodded as she stepped back, looking at me, "Good hugger."

I grinned and then my grandpa and him shook hands, "Nice to meet you Zachary."

"You too sir."

My grandma clapped her hands, "Alright let's get a move on. Church waits for no man!"

She walked up the stairs much faster and determined than someone of her age would be expected and my grandpa sighed, "Hold your horses Joy! Where's the fire?"

She hooked her thumb towards all of us, "Oh, Andrew, you know their behinds haven't seen a church pew in a good long while and they're not getting off easy, I gotta get the good seats."

Zach grinned and whispered to me, "I like them."

I held his hand and smiled up at him.

***

"Zachary, more potatoes?"

I smiled as I licked potatoes off of my own fork and before Zach could even respond, she was dumping a spoonful on his plate.

"Thank you ma'am."

He took a large bite and smiled around them, looking down at the plate. I wondered what he was thinking about. Probably if he would get an opportunity to fling them at me.

My grandma looked at him, "So, Zachary, what brings you to our family for Easter instead of your own?"

My grandma didn't beat around the bush but I hadn't expected this exact question. I hadn't prepared him. I'm not sure what made him say these next words, what made him want to be so honest but he looked at the plate of his third helping of food and then at me, "Well, Joe, Rachel, and Cammie are my family. I don't have a mom, and even when I did, she wasn't around much. Joe kind of raised me."

He looked at Joe who smiled a sad smile and ate a bite of his own third helping of potatoes.

My grandma nodded, "Well, I'm glad you found us."

Zach smiled at her, a real, genuine smile, not a smirk, as he said,  "Me too."

She watched my mom and Joe then, "So were you there when Joseph proposed to Rachel?"

Joe's chewing stopped, my mother's fork was halfway to her mouth and I bit back a smile. Zach blinked.

My grandma's eyebrows raised, looking at the two of them and Joe Solomon, the Joe Solomon, blushed and stuttered, "Joy, Andrew, I-"

My grandma patted his hand, looked at my mom, "We're very happy for you both. As long as we get to be there and you still come home for holidays."

My mother teared up and excused herself and Joe squeezed my grandma's hand, clearing his throat, "We wouldn't miss them."

My grandpa looked to where my mother disappeared, "I'll go chat with Rachel."

He groaned as he got up, patting his stomach, "Stop feeding them potatoes Joy or they'll never have room for your pie and fudge."

She waved her hands at him, "Nonsene. Always room for pie and fudge." She looked at all of us in our church clothes, "Why don't you change into something more comfortable though, can't eat pie when you're stiff as a board."

She stood, squeezing my shoulders and started clearing the dishes, Zach stood, helping. I could see she was about to protest, but he shook his head, "Can't stop me Mrs. Morgan. It's the least I can do."

And he carried two plates into the kitchen. She looked at Zach then at me, winked and walked to the kitchen with two plates in her hands as well.

After I changed I walked down the hall, passing the room my mother was staying in, her door cracked. Joe was kissing her forehead and she whispered through tears, "It's not fair. He should...he should be here. Oh my god he would have thought Cam being so nervous and Zach meeting them hilarious."

Joe smiled, his cheek pressing to her head, and he laughed a little, "He would have told him some absurdly wrong information too. Like there's some weird Nebraska way of greeting each other by bowing."

My mother laughed wiping her eyes, "He totally would have."

They stayed there, holding each other. I know they said it wasn't fair, that he wasn't there. But he was. I felt it in my bones. My father was always around us, watching and taking care of us in the ways he could. Maybe that was who I believed in, who I let my faith reside in.

As I rounded the corner I saw Zach with his sleeves rolled up, doing the dishes as my grandma dried them. I leaned against the doorframe, listening to my grandma tell him a story about Cheryl from down the road who's grandson was going to college but that she couldn't wait to brag about her granddaughter going to Georgetown. Zach agreeing with her whole heartedly, mentioning not to forget I graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA.

I slipped out the back screen door. Beautiful brushes of pinks and oranges painted the sky as the sun set. The wind blowing the golden fields of grass. Cows on the green pastures and hills, their mooing peaceful and lazy. No cares in the world and no places to be other than right there.

I heard the screen door open and didn't have to turn around to know it was Zach. His arms wrapped around my waist from behind and he rested his chin on my shoulder, "What's going on in that head of yours Gallagher Girl?"

I closed my eyes, tuning into his heartbeat, the smell of his soap, the feeling of one of his fingers resting just between my shirt and jeans, "That if I eat one more thing I think I'll actually combust."

He laughed, a quiet, just for the two of us laugh. I decided it was my favorite sound, and another piece of my faith, my hope, what made me, me, fell into place.

It was quiet, both of us watching the sunset. That was one of the many things I had come to love about being with him. He was someone who understood the beauty in the occasional silence. Someone who could keep up with me in the loud, chaotic, and unpredicstable moments and not even break stride as we shifted into the peaceful, quiet, and reflection that was often needed after or sometimes just because.

Eventually he whispered, "It's nice here. You came here for all of your breaks? And stayed here when you were growing up?"

I just nodded, closing my eyes and letting my arms wrap around his thst were still around my waist.

He sighed, "You're so lucky Cam, it's beautiful here. And...your grandparents are so nice. And oh my god the food was so good...I don't think I've ever had a plate, well plates, of food like that in my life. I want that. I want this. I..."

I turned to face him, our arms still holding each other and his green eyes bounced between mine. He had still had on his button down shirt, the sleeves pushed up, his tie looser, his curls were sticking out funny-presumably from running his hands through the gel and ruining it. He was so overwhelmingly there to me. The surest and most steady thing to me.

He took a step closer, our bodies fully pressed together then and his hand found my cheek, his thumb brushed it. His other stayed on my waist and I saw him take a deep breath, I could feel his heartbeat through his fingertips, "I love you."

I had hoped he felt this way, I had prayed he felt this way. The logical and Gallagher girl side of my brain took the facts of what we had been through together and knew two people who shared the bond we did couldn't not love each other. But the teenage girl side of my brain had always feared that he didn't love me, doubted he would ever love me, he couldn't love me.

But, deep down, I think both of us knew it. But it was the first time he said it aloud to me. And I knew I wanted to say it back. But it was scary. I knew real, deep, unbareable fear at this point in my life. But that's the best word for it. Telling someone you love them is scary. It's three words that are heavy and you can't take them back. But Zach had said them. He wasn't afraid to say them.

And hearing those three words come out of his mouth, directed towards me, that same feeling bubbled up inside of me, pushing towards my own lips, ready to shout it from every mountain top I could find.

It was that overwhelming feeling that filled your entire body. Like fire was building from your feet all the way up to your head, while simultaneously standing in a rain storm. Like your breath had been caught and they were holding onto it, the only one who could give it back. Like everything in your body was tied together with a string and they held the string in their hand, capable of keeping you tied together and pulling you apart. It was sunsets and calm lakes and m&ms being offered in an elevator. It was smirks and comments like, "You hear that? I'm special." It was feeling full and hopeful and happy for the first time in a long time. It was day dreams of coffee and waffles together on a Sunday morning and plans and dreams of a future together.

He bit his lip and blew out his breath, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

I leaned in and kissed him and he seemed surprised, but kissed me back. I finally pulled away, "I love you too Zach."

He grinned and wrapped both arms around me, my feet lifted off of the ground as he spun me. His kiss hungrier now, his smile breaking through to my lips.

"Hey! If you're quite finished, pie is ready!" My grandma hollered from the doorstep.

My broke apart and I laughed. Zach touched my lips with his thumb and then looked around, like he was trying to remember this moment.

He called as he turned away from me, "I love pie! What kind?"

My grandma shook her head at me, a smile on her lips, throwing a towel over her shoulder, heading inside, "Cammie's favorite," I started running towards the door, passing him.

"What's your favorite pie?" He called as he started running to keep up with me.

I turned, slowing down, walking backwards, "You love me but don't know my favorite flavor of pie?" I tsked and he grinned.

He stopped, "You don't know mine either."

I kept walking backwards, "Sure I do. It's probably something chocolate. French silk?"

He grinned and kept running, finally caught up to me, breathing heavy, "I forgot how fast you are. Good guess."

I turned to face forward grabbing his hand, "It's carmel apple. And grandma's wins best at the fair every year. You'll love it. You may have to unbutton your pants to be able to eat a slice of it. But you'll love it."

He grinned, I grinned, and we stepped into the house that held too many happy memories to count now. I was grateful Zach had found us too.

#gallagher girls #zach goode #cammie morgan #zammie #joe solomon #rachel morgan #grandma and grandpa morgan #gallagher girls series #gg fanfic #gallaghergirlheadcannons

[juuuuunaaaaaooooo]

Brio - Beanie Or Not Beanie (Ao3 -Os)

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#brio #beth x rio #rio x beth #brio fic #brio fanfic #brio fanfiction #implicit smut #domestic brio #established relationship #mais surtout #crackfic #^^ #I thought bourbon didn't gonna write so I did...and..i decide to finish it #just a little stupid things #en attendant de finir les autres #gg fic #gg fanfic #gg fanfiction #nbc good girls #gg #good girls nbc #my fic #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my writing #Mine