#this is .... one of many reasons she keeps her nails short . one of the less fun reasons at least .

[luckydxy]

Ara is one for skinny dipping & dancing nude around a fire, sure sure, it's all good fun, she enjoys it, but realistically she's occasionally prone to stripping when incredibly overwhelmed ; it's suddenly too hot, she can feel every fiber & crease of the fabric, it's hot it's hot, even velvet or silk are too much, too scratchy, too tight, too much too much, she wishes she could remove her skin, it takes every ounce of willpower to not hack at her hair with a knife, it's too hot, everything feels wrong & overwhelming to the touch, everything is wrong, it's hot, she's suffocating-

[fillinforlater]

The Pull

Randoms x Ning Yizhou (NingNing) & Kang Hyewon

Length: 1165 words

Tags: gangbang, hair pulling kink, rough, a lot of positions, sex, being a willing toy for men and women

TW: gangbang, the hair pulling is kinda rough, QUICKIE

Inspiration: the two pictures below

(A/N: just a short quickie I had in mind for forever now. Sorry if it's just bullshit, but I hope y'all enjoy it lol)

"Okay, what is this?"

Ningning is perplexed. She let her imagination run wild when Hyewon invited her over weeks ago, the premise: fun with multiple people. Now, multiple can mean a lot, like sharing a couple, something Ningning is already familiar with or maybe two guys for each of them. That's about as many as she can handle simultaneously. Come to think of it, Ningning remembers Hyewon telling her about having three guys and two girls on her at the same time, though—

"Don't tell me you expected more?" Hyewon laughs as she pushes herself through the tall and small and buff and slender frames of horny people around her towards her Chinese friend.

"Less," Ningning quietly hisses when she sees the twinkle in Hyewon's starry eyes. This woman is truly like the night sky: thrilling, even if you can't see it, drop dead gorgeous when uncovered and always happy to surprise her with a shooting star—or in this case, almost twenty willing people. 

"Oh, can my small Ning-ning-ie not handle a dozen men and half a dozen women?" Hyewon's laugh is loud and echoes amongst the crowd whose eyes are all focused on the two. Ningning can feel herself getting undressed, hell, she might as well be bare in their eyes, clothes already on the floor and Hyewon is the same. 

"You're crazy." She puts her arms on Hyewon's shoulders and looks past her. A wave of blankness washes over her head. Now she is the one undressing all those strangers before her, the men whipping out their hard cocks, small, large, thick; the girls with their hairy or shaved pussies, tiny tits or gigantic melons—she is equally scared and excited, so she needs this final push to get her into it.

"And you are crazy hot, Ning-ning-ie~ and your hair…"

Unwillingly, Ningning throws her head back in a guttural, deep moan that has the entire room in goosebumps of thrill and blind lust. Hyewon has both hands in Ningning's endlessly long hair, the blonde fittingly forming tails to tug. There are a million reasons Ningning loves Hyewon, but it's the way she pulls her hair that made her addicted to the older girl.

"Don't keep them waiting any longer, Ningningie~ they can and will pull it and fuck you good.

"Trust me."

The two women are swarmed, torn from each other's grasp and covered in hands. A palm on her back, barely worth the mention, another on her chest, too bad that there's fabric in the way, a long, manicured pointer on her thighs, Ningning holds her breath—she shrieks when someone combs her hair and tugs at whatever they can grab. The doubts and fears she had about this are all gone when more and more people try to get a stronger reaction out of her and pull at her hair.

"Those tails—fuck—were a great idea," Hyewon half moans, half laughs from the other side of the crowded room, amidst a crowd, her frame the toy of the crowd. Her dress is easily removed, unsurprisingly, she likes easy access. Ningning then sees her friend drop to her knees, mouth on a cock, fingers on other shafts and pussies, while a large, burly man roughly pulls her hair back.

"Do the same to me," Ningning begs to the first person she can see, a bald guy, twice her age easily. He nods and pushes her to the ground while the pointy, manicured nails from before are shredding themselves through her top. "My hair, oh God, fuck, yes!"

Though unable to see it—a girl has buried the Chinese woman's face in her hairy cunt—Ningning can feel strong pulling from all sides, relentless, reckless how some are rubbing their cocks on it as well. She searches for the hard clit, her tongue twirling it, like Hyewon has teached her in a private session, way before gangbangs even came into the picture. Some greasy guy forces her to stroke his tiny cock, she can feel him cumming, hear him groaning, imagine the pearly white all over her arm. Not a good spot to finish. 

"In my mouth, ahh." Ningning opens wide and the guy finishes on her lips until two other men decide to suddenly pick her up. The rest of his load lands on her tits, but Ningning has already forgotten about it, too big is the thrill of a stranger uncovering her ass and showing it off to everyone. 

"Fuck me standing," she screams in euphoria. "As long as you pull my fucking hair, I don't care!"

Today is Christmas for Ningning, because as the guy carrying her aligns his cock with her soaking pussy, another woman has her ponytail in hand and starts to play tug of war against herself. In Ningning's brain, the pleasure and pain clash shortly, but soon find a rhythm—the same rhythm in which her pussy is getting pounded. Each thrust rocks her world and now the tug can send her into bliss.

"Oh my God, I'm cumming, don't stop!"

Hyewon meanwhile gets spitroasted in a quite unusual way: two men try to get their semi-hard cocks into her mouth while a young lady shoves a large strap-on in her ass over and over again—she literally pushes it all the way in, just to pull it back out again. The sight of Hyewon's gaping asshole has a guy close. He jerks himself to completion and his spunk lands in Hyewon’s messed up and torn locks.

"I want to cum again, please!"

Ningning gets dropped, but this is nowhere near the end of her wish fulfillment. There is always someone else to fondle her assets, be it tits or ass, and of course, her golden strands. In another team effort, her ass cheeks get spread wide to reveal a twitching hole, always clean, relaxed and ready, especially after the height of an all time orgasm. A cockhead eases itself inside her. 

"Oh fuck!"

"Get her hair!" a strong willed woman shouts at two men who were somewhat awkwardly jerking themselves off at the ever switching sight. "You pull here, you pull over here, on the other side.  Fuck her hair for all I care, ruin her somehow."

The same woman is not only successful with her instructions, she also puts her foot on Ningning's cheek and has her head trapped on the floor, unable to escape the cock that is destroying her ass faster and faster. Ningning can feel her knees give up slowly, they tremble with the force of an earthquake followed by a volcanic eruption, because a final tug puts her over the edge again. This time her orgasm is messy, clear squirt lunges out of her cunt while incoherent profanities leave her mouth.

"Fucking, th-thank you, shit, oh Hyewon, ahhh, fill my dumb ass, c-c-cum in my hair, ahh!"

"You're welcome," Hyewon moans back, small body upright, a cock in her pussy, hickeys on her collarbone, a tongue in her ass, her hair pulled.

Of course it's pulled.

[randomness-is-my-order]

from the start, i’ve mainly been praising the show and have spoken against the minor nitpicks but i think some constructive criticism won’t go amiss. i’m always going to advocate for praise + critique but since literally all my posts praise the show (character-work, writing, directing, cinematography, literally all aspects) i’ll focus on the main issues i have with it for this one.

i’m only saying this because i do think there is merit to the conversation: yes, i agree with many other people saying the show has a very real lack of tension. the stakes are established, potential horrific consequences are alluded to, but the instances in which the action needs to take place falls short. i wanted to see percy and annabeth and grover SHOWING their inexperience through stumbling on traps (which would automically raise the tension in both medusa’s lair and the lotus casino), i wanted them to make mistakes and quick-think their way out of it. sure, there’s something to be said about conveying annabeth’s intelligence but aunty em was a great way of highlighting percy & annabeth’s dyslexia by having them be unable to read the signs. the statues could have been removed from the yard–a move that would show medusa’s intelligence instead. similarly, the fun of the lotus casino was about the creepiness that slowly and steadily builds on the backdrop of this harmless kid carival like setting. percy, annabeth and grover’s intelligence and knowledge has already been built in other obstacles so seeing them actually fall for well-set traps seems to me like a much more nuanced portrayal of the kids, their capabilities but also their weaknesses. speaking of, i was waiting for one moment of annabeth making some mistake, showing some flaw. i think it would have been cool if she was the one to lose her drachma given that she was undoubtedly jostled hard while clinging to the cerberus. grover already felt like he messed up after the lotus casino and having percy reassure annabeth after her drachma screwup would really nail in that yeah she’s intelligent and wise but she is also just 12 and she can be a bit reckless too.

honestly, i’m a sucker for flaws. i love my emotional percabeth bits to death but would i have rejoiced just as much had both of them been a little more unempathetic towards each other and been at each other’s throats for a few more episodes? yes.

i love show grover and his earnestness and savagery in manipulating a god but do i love my little coward goat boy who slowly but surely proves himself to be capable and brave? who keeps asking for food at the most inopportune moments but really has percy’s back at the end of the day? who is severely unconfident but slowly learns to trust himself more? yes! i just feel like the grover we have now was my imagining of grover in book 2-3. we never got to see his major flaws so i’m just wondering what kind of upward arc will he have and will it be as impressive as the books.

i really really appreciated that percy’s impertinence was actually something he paid a price for. it will make his continued rebellion against the gods that much more intentional. that said, i would have liked percy’s relative ignorance of the mythic world to still remain. having sally make him so prepared that he sometimes manages to know obscure greek stories sort of blends their roles in the trio. yes, each one of them is layered and there is no one super rigid position they must adhere to but this is storytelling on television at the end of the day, the characters should have unique traits to distinguish themselves. for me, percy’s intelligence was about his presence of mind and deductive reasoning which the lotus casino scene in the book beautifully portrays. similarly, his knowledge was less about facts he knew and more about the street smarts he had acquired. in some way, annabeth and percy have a weird overlap in characteristics (show annabeth feels as sassy as show percy which is not the book dynamic imo).

i don’t see these as minor nitpicks btw – i think show portrayals have changed these characters through small changes and while that is okay, it also leaves room for improvement before it is too late. there are many considerations to be made–percy’s grief, annabeth’s tackling of complex feelings about the gods, grover’s guilt, ofc. but it’s, i think, a valid critique of the show that the main trio’s dialogue and actions could be made more faithful to the books.

also, i think the direction can be more dynamic, especially in exposition-heavy scenes. there are ways to make info-dumping fun and i’m sure the directors are more than capable of exploring these options moving forward.

there are many more smaller things i would point out but i don’t want to make this longer that it already is. many people handwave alot of the critique saying that the show is for children to which i say: children’s media doesn’t mean lesser quality media–the books were literally made for children yet on tv, many scenes are sanitised, very little left not on-the-nose. i have myself mentioned how certain scenes could be impossible to film with 12 yr olds (medusa beheading) without harming them mentally in some way so i appreciate the clever sanitization there. but the action sequences do need much more edge and that’s okay to acknowledge. the show we have now is great but it is absolutely not without flaws and normalising discussion about the flaws is only going to benefit the show moving forward.

and lastly, rick might be the author of the books but there is no rule that once you like an author’s work, you will have to like all of that author’s writing. just because rick made some final decisions does not take away the fandom’s rights to question those decisions and critique the screenwriting. there is seriously no use putting him on a pedestal–and i say this as someone who adores his writing in pjo.

let’s let the fandom breathe a little. let the mild, politely conveyed critique become commonplace as much as the ardent praise because i think that’s the balance we need to ensure that season two delivers on all the fronts that season one was unable to.

that’s all. thanks for reading lol. have a nice day. :))

[maxislvt]

Moths To A Flame

Summary: Being a detective wasn't easy in New Jersey. It becomes even harder when you're tasked with capturing demons, witches, and other supernatural beings. Juggling that herculean task leaves your love life high and dry. Despite this, your friends encourage you to find a partner. That leap of faith lands you the perfect girlfriend, but what if that protection is only an illusion?

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation, tracking, obsession, possessive behavior, gore, blood, organs, gentle kidnapping (?), Stockholm Syndrome, smut, afab reader (no gendered terms), pet names (baby, puppy), fingering, brief orgasm denial, rough sex, gentle sex, pet play, mommy kink, strap on use

Author's Note: this shit took nine billion years but I'm so proud of myself :)

Being a detective meant you had to be ready for everything. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing, sometimes you'd have to drop everything for the sake of justice. Working with regular everyday criminals was one thing, but it became even harder when you were up against the supernatural and occultists. That often meant you'd be forced to cut a date short or leave the house at odd hours, a combination that certainly wasn't ideal for many relationships. You were fine with that. Your job was important and you weren't selfish enough to demand someone stay by your side despite how little time you had for them.

Your friends on the other hand were less okay with that revelation. No matter how many times you reminded them of your undateable schedule, they signed you up for dating apps and websites without care.

Sometimes it was "Everybody needs somebody!'" as Monica would insist. She was always the romantic one among your friends. Other times, you'd get a much more practical "I can't keep coming over here to patch your ass up and cook you." from Sam. There was nothing you could do to get any of them off your case besides get a girlfriend so you just decided to let them have their fun.

Now you were a little upset you let them do it.

After a few days of humoring her flirtatious texts and eventually trading phone numbers, you landed yourself a date with one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. Her fiery red hair and serene emerald eyes pulled you in with ease. The way she spoke to you had you wrapped around her fingers in only a matter of days. Just the sound of her smooth, sultry voice made goosebumps rise over your skin. For a moment, you were worried you'd fallen for a siren.

Now that she was sitting just arm's length away, you were sure she wasn't. Wanda was just a really pretty woman.

"What, never seen a pretty girl before?" Wanda asked with an amused smile. She noticed you were staring on the car ride here. It was adorable. You were so easy to tease and fluster.

"Not one as pretty as you," You said without thinking. It wasn't until Wanda started laughing that you even registered what you said. "I- Sorry, I'm just not…I'm not used to dates and stuff like that." A blush covered your face in a matter of seconds. Your hands nervously played with the fork on the table to distract yourself.

Wanda rested her hand on top of yours and leaned in to whisper in your ear. "If you keep playing your cards like this, we might have to leave here a little earlier than intended." She placed a soft kiss on your cheek before leaning back in her seat. A proud smirk covered her features, the exact opposite of the bashful smile on yours.

Controlling your heart rate during the rest of the date was near impossible. Your only saving grace was the waiter coming by with your food. Even that didn't stop Wanda from teasing. She saw it as more of a reason to do it. Wanda had already taken the lead by ordering for you but continued to dominate you subtly just in case you didn't catch the hint.

The final nail in the coffin was when it was time to pay. When you reached into your pocket to pay for it, your wallet was mysteriously gone.

"What? I swear I put it in here…" You glanced up at Wanda to find your wallet sandwiched between two of her fingers. "How did you do that? I felt it in my pocket until a second ago." It was like magic. Not as grand and chaotic as the one you encountered on your job, but certainly had an air of mystery. You would've sensed it by now if she was.

Wanda winked and tossed you your wallet. "You seem like the chivalrous type, it was just a precaution." She reached across the table for your hand and squeezed it gently. "I couldn't let you drive me all the way here and pay for our food. That's just unfair."

The drive to Wanda's apartment was dead silent. Not that you two had run out of things to talk about, but because Wanda's teasing persisted and you were worried you'd crash the car.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you safely parked in front of Wanda's apartment. It seemed much bigger now that it was dark. "Um, tonight was fun and I appreciate you for inviting me out." The words left your mouth in a rushed haze as Wanda began to play with the strands of your hair next to your ear.

"Well, I was thinking we could take our little party up to my room and keep it going." Wanda's hand cupped your chin and forced you to face her. "That's only if you want to, sweetness." Her thumb rubbed over your bottom lip. "If you're too needy, I could always take you right here."

Just the thought made you wet. "Um, I- Public sex is a misdemeanor, your bedroom is much better." Wanda's amused giggle made your ears burn. You were thankful she thought everything you did was cute. Your fun fact earned you a kiss on the cheek before Wanda got out of the car and led you toward her apartment building. You could tell it was expensive from the outside, but just getting to the elevator made you feel like some cheap peasant.

Wanda didn't give you much time to lament about your financial situation because she pounced on you the second the elevator door closed.

Wanda wasted no time exploring your mouth. Her tongue wrapped around yours and sucked to her heart's content. "Fuck, you have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you like this." Her arms snaked around your waist to keep you still. The stiffness of your body would've been adorable if she wasn't trying to strip you naked. "Relax, we're going straight to the penthouse floor with no interruptions," She whispered into your ear before kissing the side of your neck.

Just as you began to give in to Wanda's seduction, you caught on. "Did you say penthouse?" You glanced behind Wanda and saw the biggest apartment you'd ever seen. "Oh my god, you live here by yourself?" You slowly stepped out of the elevator in awe.

Wanda grabbed you by your collar and guided you to her bedroom. She has you pinned up against the door in a matter of seconds. Your questions about her house were quickly muffled by your pathetic whining. Her hands began to explore your body excitedly. She grabbed your ass and was surprised to feel some strange hardness. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" She asked teasingly.

You cleared your throat nervously and pulled out the object in your pocket. "It's just my badge, I keep it on me in case I get called out." The words die in your mouth as you watch Wanda carelessly toss it to the side. You leaned forward to get it only to be pushed back against the wall. "I need to be able to find that in the morning, what if-"

Wanda cut you off with another kiss and began unbuttoning your shirt. "And I'll help you find it if you need it. Just focus on me right now. Pretty please?" It was like she got prettier every time you looked at her. Her lips are quick to cover any newly exposed skin in kisses. It takes so much self-restraint not to litter your skin with bite marks and hickeys, but she pacifies the desire by just lightly nibbling on your skin. "You sure know how to dress nice."

Your brain is far too clouded with lust to form a proper response. Instead, your brain focused on the way she slowly began unbuttoning your pants and pulling down your underwear. The skin of your thighs isn't given the same leeway as your stomach and they're littered with bruises in a matter of seconds. "Ah, you're rough!"

Wanda chuckled darkly. "Something tells me you like it that way." Two of her fingers ran down your slit and were immediately covered in your slick. She eased one of them inside of your cunt and started at an agonizingly slow pace. "I know you wanna be fucked senseless baby, but I gotta stretch out this little hole of yours first." A satisfied hum escaped her lips as you began mindlessly grinding against her. All it took was a little praise and you were hers to keep.

Another one of her fingers slipped into your hole and she spread them apart. She could feel your walls fluttering already. "Poor baby. You need to cum?" A proud smirk spread across her lips. Watching you hold off an orgasm was the cutest thing ever. You squirmed and whined while biting your hand, but none of it worked. The second her fingers rubbed against that spongy patch of nerves inside of you, you were done for. "There we go, let it out."

You shuddered and whimpered helplessly as Wanda's fingers continued to make a mess of your hole. Every word you tried to speak left your mouth in a string of broken moans. "Ah, right, that's- that's enough," You whispered with all the firmness of a tired kitten.

Eventually, Wanda pulled away and helped you stand upright. "Oh sweetness, I hope you didn't think that's all I had planned for you." She forced her fingers into your mouth. "Good little detectives like you deserve a reward, don't they?"

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

The adventures of last night left your body aching. Wanda's self-restraint whittled away the more opportunities you gave her to use your body. The love bites littering your chest was proof enough. You rarely got the chance to bottom and even then no one had ever spoiled you that much before. It was like a dream come true.

But of course, you had a job to do and that always came before romance.

"Hello," You said into the phone without checking the caller ID.

"Hey, uh, how fast can you get to Upper Montclair?" Monica asked nervously.

"Monica?" You immediately got out of bed and looked outside the window. "About half an hour. What's the problem?" The search for your badge and clothes was frantic and quickly proved to be unsuccessful. At least your shoes were where they should've been.

"There was a fire in one of the condos up here."

You stopped your search. "A fire? Monica, that's the fire department's job, not ours."

"If it was just a fire I wouldn't have called you! There are these weird symbols in the ashes and Jimmy doesn't want any of the guys touching anything without you here."

You sighed and continued looking for your clothes. "Alright, tell the guys I'll be down there in a half hour…if I find my clothes that is." You grumbled as you searched underneath the bed. Monica's excited gasp almost made you drop your phone. "I'll tell you everything when there are no magic fire runes to deal with, okay?" You hung up the phone.

After nearly twenty minutes of aimless searching, you found your clothes neatly folded and your badge freshly shined on top of the dryer. You put them on in a rush and made your way toward the elevator.

Just as you pushed the button to go down, the elevator opened. "You're back," You said as your eyes trailed down to the bag of food in Wanda's hand. "And you brought breakfast…god I'm so sorry." You were disappointed in yourself. Whether it was because you were about to break Wanda's heart or because you weren't fast enough to avoid her you aren't sure. "Last night was really fun, but- but I can't just hang up on work. I promise I'll make it up to you when I have the time."

The corners of Wanda's mouth flicked upwards in what you thought would be a sad smile. "Hey, it's alright. You told me last night, I just wish I left a bit earlier." She handed you one of the bags in her hands. "Just eat up and call me when you have the time. We'll work out a second date later." Wanda affectionately pinched your cheek before going to the kitchen.

You were shocked. Most people weren't as understanding when it came to your random work calls. It was a first. Not only that, you had a second date. That realization didn't even hit you until you pressed the first-floor button. Your first second date with a girl. "Thank you for last night!" You said excitedly just as the elevator closed.

Your head was so far in the clouds, you almost forgot about the grim scene waiting for you.

As the smell of ash and smoke filled your lungs, you began dreading the investigation ahead of you. Something strong had been in the area, you could feel it in your gut. Magic and murder mixed quite often in New Jersey. It didn't matter if it was the pretty mansions or the overcrowded apartment complexes downtown. Blood sacrifices, demon summonings, and generational curses. You'd seen it all, but none of it had ever been as professional as what lay in front of you. For one, the fire didn't jump. Even though there was less than a foot of space between the condos, only one had been destroyed. The one still standing didn't even have ash on it.

"Well, this was certainly personal." You began taking photos of the runes and rubble. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you put on the latex gloves Monica handed you. "Do we have any casualties?"

"One dead and one injured but all other tenants escaped unharmed." Monica was one of your closest friends. She knew how you worked better than anyone at your station. Working with her was the easiest thing in the world. "Vision and Tony Stark. I tried talking to Tony but I think he's still in a state of shock. That and he looks sick, but not burned. I think you should check him out before anything."

You looked over at the ambulance. Sitting out the back was a man not much older than yourself. His hair had streaks of fading brown and the bags under his eyes seemed exaggerated by the looming cloud of dread. "Okay, I need you and Jimmy to search for anything magical while I try talking to Tony." You took the sunglasses hanging off your shirt collar and put them in Monica's face. Enchanted glasses always came in handy when working with the nonmagical.

You grabbed a bag out of your car. It was full of herbs and potions. If Tony wasn't burned, it was likely he was feeling the side effects of whatever spell that was meant for his brother.

"Hello, I'm Detective L/N." You stuck out your hand for the other man to shake.

"James Stark, his husband, but Rhodey is fine." Rhodey shook your hand firmly. His face was tense. "We're not going to be much use, just got here ten minutes ago and Tony hasn't spoken a word."

You nodded. "Well, I did come to ask questions, but part of my job is making sure everyone on the scene is safe. I just want to make sure your husband isn't suffering from any spells or curses." You placed your bag down and gestured towards Tony "May I?" When Rhodey gave you his approval you began your inspection immediately.

Fortunately, you weren't working against anything too crazy. You couldn't figure out what exactly caused it, but it wasn't difficult to undo. Slowly, the paleness in Tony's face faded away.

"Please come by the station as soon as possible for questioning, but there's no rush at all." You pulled a contact card out of thin air. "Don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions or concerns."

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

Tracking down witches was never easy. It was even harder to do on an empty stomach. The easiest way to combat that was to track down witches in a local diner. You, Monica, Darcy, and Jimmy were all regulars at May's Diner. The four of you spent countless hours in the booth writing up reports and putting together information. That or you'd just spend hours eating your frustrations away. Today it seemed to be the second.

"I'm stomped. This doesn't look like any of the symbols in this book," Darcy complained while nibbling on a french fry.

You groaned and closed the book in front of you. "I got nothing either." With Tony still sick and the runes undeciphered, the investigation was already at a standstill. This was already starting to get a little difficult but you were determined to keep pushing.

"Cheesecake for the lead detective."

You shook your head and immediately handed the plate back to the waitress. "Pete, tell your aunt to stop giving us free dessert every time she thinks we need to take a break. I'll lose all my teeth at this rate."

The young man frowned as he put the plate back on the table. "We both know she's never gonna do that, but this is just for you. The lady at the cash register bought it." He tilted his head in the direction of the registrar.

It was Wanda.

You didn't even sense her entering the diner. "Fuck, oh my god. Thank you, Peter." You quickly took off your jacket and smoothed down your shirt before leaving the booth. "Hey, Wanda. How's it going?" The expression on her face was unreadable. Was she upset with you or just happy to see you?

Wanda's hand immediately reached out to cup your face. Your cheek fitted perfectly in her hand as she began to caress it. "You didn't call me last night and I was worried you got hurt." She said teasingly, but there was a twinge of bitterness in the way she spoke. "I see now you were just exploring your options." She frowned as she shyly played with your fingers.

God, she could pull at your heartstrings sometimes.

It broke your heart to see Wanda upset. "Hey, it's not like that at all," You whispered. You gave her hand a firm squeeze and stood closer. "I got a little hyper-focused on it and haven't been thinking about much else." Explaining yourself seemed to make Wanda feel a little better but you wanted to make sure she was okay. "Are you free tonight? I have to go back to the station soon and clock out, maybe we can go out afterward?"

Wanda hummed. "Alright, but you have to promise me that you won't end up leaving before breakfast this time." She stuck out her pinkie finger.

You laughed and wrapped your pinkie around Wanda's. "I promise to stay until breakfast." It was childish, but a promise was a promise and those couldn't be broken easily.

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

As the investigation dragged on, things began to heat up in more ways than one. The cool breezes of spring had disappeared and the bold flames of summer started to lap at your skin. Wanda was becoming a much more constant part of your life. Most importantly, Tony was starting to recover.

Though it wasn't a part of your job to do so, you decided to keep tabs on Tony. His recovery was integral to the case. He was your only key witness and you couldn't afford to lose him. This meant you'd occasionally have to make sporadic, late-night calls with Rhodey to keep up with them.

"The doctor says he's experiencing a bit of brain fog and that could take months for him to get over, but I think he's good enough to answer a few questions."

That wasn't the best news to hear, but it was something. "Well, I still need to take emotional distress into account so I'll give it another few days before questioning him." It was around eleven pm when Rhodey had called but it didn't feel right letting it go to voicemail. Rhodey had enough on his plate taking care of his husband and running a business, the last thing he needed was for you to be flaky in your communication. "I must ask, how are you feeling going through all of this?"

Rhodey sighed. "I don't have any reason to think this, but I'm just worried someone is going to come after Tony next. It's just unsettling." The unrest was heavy in voice.

You nodded along. "I understand. If you find anything that even remotely suggests that, just call me and I'll do my best to have you both out under witness protection. Please try to rest easy, for all three of us." You and Rhodey talked for nearly an hour. It would have been longer if a familiar pair of lips hadn't begun attacking your neck. "It's getting late — ah— I'll call you later this week." Rhodey's goodbye fell on deaf ears as Wanda continued staking her claim.

How did she always manage to sneak up on you?

"You said you wouldn't leave," Wanda said with a heavy pout. Her hand slipped underneath your sleep shorts and headed straight for your crouch. It cupped the warmth between your legs and hummed. "Does my little worry detective need help to get back to bed?"

A blush spread across your face as Wanda began to grope your thigh. "I was coming back to bed, I just had to take a call." You desperately tried to collect the files you spread out across the table. "Let me clean up and I'll come back right after."

Wanda's eyes landed on one of the photographs that landed on the floor. She let go of you and immediately picked it up. Her face immediately fell. "Do you know what this stands for?" Wanda asked, pointing to the symbol in the photo. The features on her face turned to stone.

You took the photo from Wanda and glanced over it. "Uh, no actually it's had me stomped for weeks." You slipped the photo back into the folder and stacked it neatly on the table. "Don't worry though, my witness is healthy again so I'll be able to move forward just fine!" Wanda's serious expression was lost on you. Cases got slow sometimes. There was no way for Wanda to know that but you didn't want her worrying about you too much. "Why don't we go back to bed, yeah?"

Wanda grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you around. "I'm gonna tell you something and I need you to listen to me every step of the way." She dragged you to the bedroom and forced you to sit down. Once you settled down, she bolted over to her closet and began shuffling things around.

You were endeared at first. You thought Wanda had a book she thought would help or maybe she even recognized the symbol. If that had been the case, it would've been helpful. Maybe even a little cute. It only took one metallic click for your thoughts to change. "What are you looking for?" You asked nervously.

There was something magical in Wanda's closet. You could feel it. Something older and much more powerful than you. Just being in its presence was suffocating. It was almost nauseating.

Wanda pulled out a book. It was heavy and covered with dust and runes you could never begin to understand. "I know you probably don't believe in this kinda stuff but my mom used to tell me this story about a witch." The book was huge, but she held it with ease. She opened it to reveal a drawing with a tall woman surrounded by magical symbols that were foreign. "That was a symbol of the Scarlet Witch."

The evil radiating from the was practically suffocating you. "What- who is the Scarlet Witch? I've never heard anything like that before in my life." Terror had overtaken your entire body, but you didn't want to back down. It was the first actual lead you had. "I mean like, obviously she's a witch but what kind?"

Wanda watched your facial expressions carefully. You leaned away from her like something was going to jump out of the book and grab you. She just giggled and cupped your face. "It's late so I won't scare you, but just promise you'll be safe going forward. Okay?" She placed a kiss on the top of your head and got up to put the book away.

You sent a text to Darcy about what Wanda told you. Though you tried your hardest to act unaffected by the story, the tight grip you had on Wanda while you slept was a dead giveaway.

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

"I was doing some research on what you sent me the other day and I'm about to completely ruin you guys' weekend." Darcy placed the large stack of files on your countertop. "I did organize all of them from oldest to newest and put some notes in there but the three of you are gonna have to read all of this."

Sometimes cases got too graphic to be studied in May's Diner and the only other option was to board up in someone's house until all of you made a breakthrough. Since you were the only one with enough food in your fridge and counter space for everyone to work, it usually ended up being your house.

A heavy sigh escaped through your nostrils. "Alright, well let's get this going." You grabbed the file off the very top and opened it. Most of the magic identification was left up to you but Jimmy, Monica, and Darcy took care of profiling and other things. The cases became more and more disturbing, but you swallowed the fear and kept pushing for the sake of justice. If all of these cases had been done by one person, they needed to be caught.

But the longer you kept researching, the more strange things started to occur. Every case you studied came with another wave of nearly unexplainable sleepiness and no amount of cold water or coffee shook it. Then you'd catch glimpses of someone staring at you through your window. Your vision would blur and your ears would ring at random. You worried someone in your neighborhood was playing with magic, but you would've detected it if they were this close.

Then, someone knocked at your door. You all turned to look at each other.

"Did y'all order anything?" You asked. Everyone shook their heads and you got up to open the door. You didn't know why, but you felt sick to your stomach. Something was wrong. Your heart pounded in your ears with every step you took. Everything moved slowly.

Only for no one to be at your door. The street was empty and dead quiet. Not even your neighbors were up. Except for the mysterious plastic bag sitting on your porch. Hesitantly, you picked it up and brought it to the counter in front of everyone.

"This feels wrong." You said, eyeing the bag in front of you. There was no smell or markings on it, but it made your skin crawl. It set off so many alarm bells in your head. "Someone else should open it."

Everyone's fingers touched their nose at the same time.

Jimmy clocked his tongue. "It could be nothing. Maybe some door dash driver dropped it off. It could be a neighbor's!" He always tried to be reasonable even in the most senseless situations. Even when he was just as irrational as the rest of you.

"You open it then!"

Jimmy stepped back. "I didn't say we had to open it. I just said we could give it to the neighbors."

Monica grabbed a pencil from the counter and threw it at the bag. "It's not an animal…or at least it's a dead one."

You huffed out and headed to your bathroom to get a pair of latex gloves. "Fine, I'll open it. Either it's nothing and I'm crazy or it's something and I'm calling the station." The confidence in your voice didn't match the growing sickness in your stomach. You walked back to the counter and slowly untied the knot in the bag. The brown box inside had a note attached to it. "Your heart should only beat for me…heart emoticon." You could feel bile rising in your throat. The ink didn't look right. It was a weird faded red color and pooled in seemingly random places.

All that was left to open was the box. You carefully took it out of the paper bag and placed it on the space of your counter. Your eyes instinctively closed as you removed the lid of the box. A distinct smell of blood hit your nose. It was worse than anything you could have imagined.

A still beating heart with your name and badge number burned into it.

"Call the station, call the station!" You shouted as you slammed the lid back on.

It had taken about ten minutes for the police to arrive at your house. In that time, both you and Monica had thrown up and Jimmy had gone into a panicked fit pacing around your house trying to find signs of an intruder that didn't exist. All four of you were forced to sit outside while other officers searched your home and tapped it off.

You could sense another magic user in the area.

"Detective L/N?" A tall, much older woman approached you slowly like you were some injured kitten waiting to be picked up. She had on a dark purple windbreaker and a beanie to match. "I'm Detective Harkness, but you can call me Agatha." Her smile was small but genuine. Most importantly, she was very strong. It made sense because she had some years on you. You felt honored just to be in her presence. "The other officers spoke very highly of you on the way here, I can tell you're very talented."

Her words made your heart flutter. Of course, you'd never say it out loud but thrived on praise and validation. It was even better coming from a pretty woman. "I- thank you Detective Harkness, but I must ask why you're here. I thought they were just getting the human heart out of my house"

Agatha's face fell. "There's no real easy way to tell you this, but all four of you are being taken off this case."

Your heart dropped. "I-I'm sorry, what?" Maybe it was some sick joke or another of those hyperrealistic nightmares you had when you fall asleep right after reading case files. "Detective Harkness, I'm sure this isn't your doing but I'm the only witch in this district." You were pissed. Months of research and investigating were snatched right out of your hands over something so stupid. "You can't take us off just cause some freak left a heart on my doorstep!"

"A human heart on your doorstep that had a note written in blood and your badge number engraved into it." Agatha gave your shoulder a firm squeeze. "I get it. If we can prove it's not a serious threat we'll put you back on but for now, just find somewhere safe to stay for the next few weeks and I'll get back as soon as possible. Get some rest tonight and we'll work on getting you guys relocated as soon as possible." The older woman slipped a card into your pocket.

You let Agatha walk away. Even though you didn't want to say it, she was right. This case was bigger than you and it was even bigger than your friends. Who knows what kind of danger you'd put yourself in trying to catch your suspect? You took a deep breath. "Okay. We got this. I'll just crash in Jimmy's futon tonight and find a decent hotel to sleep in until I get my house back. I'm fine. We're going to be fine."

Your friends all shared a look but chose not to say anything.

Some hours later, you were curled up on Jimmy's futon dreading the day ahead of you. You had already called Rhodey and Tony to give them Agatha's contact information. The reality of your situation had only just settled in. Your suspect had their eyes on you and you had no idea how to protect yourself. Everything felt hopeless and there was nothing you could do to distract yourself.

Then your phone rang.

Wanda was calling you, but you weren’t entirely sure wanted to answer it. Wanda could always tell when you were upset and that made it near impossible to keep secrets from her, but maybe you needed to be honest.

You press the green button on your screen and put the phone against your ear. "Hey, Wanda."

"Hey, Sweetness! Are you okay? I know you said you were working late but I just want to check in on you." Wanda's voice was silk smooth as it filled your ears.

The sleepy rasp in her voice brought your comfort. "I want to tell you I am but I don't think that's the right thing to do. I'm not even sure I can legally tell you what's wrong." You could hear the sound of her sitting up on the bed. Your fingers played with the flimsy bed sheet underneath you. "I...I got removed for the case and I won't be going back to work for at least a month."

"What? Did they suspend you?" Wanda was surprised. Sure she had planned for it to happen, but she didn't think it'd happen so quickly. "You're not in trouble, are you? My family knows a good lawyer if-"

You flinched at the sudden yelling. "No, I didn't do anything wrong and I'm not wanted for anything. They just want me to go somewhere else for a bit until they catch the arsonist." You tried your very best to make the situation sound as simple and harmless as possible. "It's not like witness protection exactly but my house is currently a crime scene so-"

"A crime scene!? Where are you, I'm coming to pick you up right now!" Wanda got out of bed and immediately grabbed her keys.

"No no no, I'm fine right now! I'm safely in Jimmy's house and sleeping here until they figure out what they need me to do." You ran your fingers through your hair. "They'll probably want me out of town for a bit. I couldn't stay at your apartment even if I wanted to."

"I have a cabin a few hours away! It's a bit out there but I'm willing to drive us both out there if it means keeping you safe." Wanda's tone was frantic but serious at the same time. "We don't even have to stay the whole time you're off. Just two weeks to get your mind off things, please?" The whine in her voice was heavy.

"Are you pouting?" The small 'mhm' made you laugh a little. "Alright, fine. Just gimme a few days to do the serious detective stuff and then I'll pack what I can." You couldn't help but smile and Wanda's excited cheers. "Now I gotta get to sleep…I love you, good night."

"I've always loved you."

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

Love was a very loaded word for Wanda. To be loved by Wanda was to be hers completely. Wanda told you that early into your relationship, but you were starting to see the extent of that living with her for days with little to no interruptions.

Wanda had been very handsy. Every time you walked by she'd grope and tease you as long as you later her — which was never for a short period. It happened so much you just decided to go without pants or a shirt. It wasn't the best solution considering it was just an incentive for Wanda's addiction to your body to worsen.

You were spoiled and loved every second of it, but you were starting to get antsy. Wanda didn't let you do anything. Occasionally, she'd let you accompany her to the store or take you to the beach — but even that lost its novelty after three weeks. You didn't want to sound ungrateful, but you were bored. Being idle was like a death sentence for you.

Despite all the love in her heart she had for you, Wanda seemed uncharacteristically apathetic to your complaints. You were starting to worry the relationship wasn’t going to work. Things you used to love about Wanda were starting to irritate you. She was starting to smother you. You weren’t even sure why you liked it in the first place.

"Wanda, can I go into the city for a bit? I'll be back in time for lunch." The heavy pout on your face and collar on your neck did nothing to sway Wanda's answer. You groaned and made your way back to the shared bedroom. The once lush sheets now felt uncomfortable and suffocating against your skin. You learned pretty quickly not to stomp off whining or whimpering because Wanda would handle your frustrations. Which wouldn't be a problem if she had a solution besides fucking you senseless. That brain would get foggy and all you could think about was clinging to Wanda.

After frustratedly tossing and turning on your bed you realized something. You didn't need Wanda's approval to do anything. Asking was just a courtesy. Nothing was stopping you from putting on your clothes, hopping in the car, and going out to explore the city close by. That's exactly what you did. You washed your face, got dressed in the nicest clothes you had, and grabbed your keys. Then, you headed for the front door. It was that simple.

"Where are you going?"

Wanda's cold voice made you shiver. "I'm going out. I just need some fresh air, I'll be back soon." You unlocked the door only for it to lock back. A frown formed on your face, but you kept tugging at it until a hot red mist surrounded it. "Ah! What the fuck is wrong with the door." You shook your hands to ease the hot pain.

Wanda grabbed both your hands and peppered them with kisses. "I said no. You need to learn how to listen." Her voice was still stern despite the affection she gave you. "If you need to go out, play around in the backyard but you are not to leave this cabin." She squeezed them gently before letting go. "I know your little puppy brain is telling you to run around and do whatever, but you have to do what mommy says." A confident smirk spread across her face and a blush spread across yours.

You huffed and stomped your way out towards the backyard. The breeze did very little to cool your heated skin. You hated being so easily flustered. Wanda wasn't above using it to her advantage. That anger caused something to shift and you couldn’t tell what is was. It was like someone had taken off your rose-colored glasses. "Go away. I'm not in the mood to talk." You could sense her before Wanda even said a word. Something wasn't right. Wanda's presence usually slipped under your radar. She was always a pleasant surprise. Now she felt big. Bigger than anything else you've ever been around.

"Oh sweetness, you're so strong and don't even know it." Wanda's hand reached down and gripped your neck with uncharacteristic amounts of strength. "Shush, your little attitude put you in this situation." She let you thrash around and scream to your heart's content. Watching you struggle always stirred up something deep and sadistic within her.

You looked up into the face of a woman you'd never seen before.

She looked like Wanda but she was a much darker, twisted reflection of the woman has grown to love. Her brown hair turned a fiery red. The bright green eyes you fell in love with were now darker and glazed with a hint of red in them. Bags under her eyes were now much more prominent and more than just a product of the sleepless nights both of you had.

"It takes a lot of work getting past that little sixth sense of yours. I was worried you'd figure me out too early." Wanda leaned down and forcefully kissed you. She could feel your heartbeat and hear all your frantic thoughts. "Nothing will work, I'm much stronger than you and we both know it."

You flinched as Wanda nuzzled into your cheek. Your body was frozen with fear. "What…Wanda, what are you?" Your voice trembled as you spoke. The power you were detecting felt millions of years old, but Wanda was only twenty-seven. How could she have mastered something so powerful so fast? Agatha was almost just as strong, but she was much older than both of you. "And no weird cryptic fake folktale shit either."

Wanda rolled her eyes and dragged you back into the house. "I'm just like you, puppy." Her magic forced you to sit on the couch. She cupped your cheeks. "I am the Scarlet Witch and I'm so proud of you for catching me!" Her hands slid down your neck and all the down to your stomach. "I knew all you needed was a little push and you'd be strong enough to do it."

You tried your best to avoid Wanda's touch. "Get away from me." You didn't want this to be the woman that you fell in love with, but it made sense. Before, there was nothing about Wanda that stood out to your senses. Even the weakest of fighters had something, but Wanda was nothing to your sixth sense. It would always explain how she was able to find you or could tell how you are feeling. The thought of loving something so evil should've made you feel sick. It upset you how little it did. "And I'm not your puppy, stop calling me that!"

"Really? 'Cause this," Wanda flicked the tag on the collar around your neck, "says otherwise." Her hands explored your body. Not even the darkness could get in the way of how much she cared for you. "You still love me and you will learn to accept that, especially if you want your little friends safe."

Your heart stopped. There was no telling how far Wanda was willing to go to keep you. If you couldn't handle her, your friends wouldn't stand a chance. "Fine, whatever. Just get off me." You said through gritted teeth.

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

She was right. You did still love her. No matter how much you wanted to hate her, you couldn't find it in you. Every night you snuggled into her side looking for the comfort she'd given — and Wanda gave it to you without question. That didn't stop you from trying your hardest. Every slight disagreement escalated into a full-blown argument with the hopes she'd become irritated with you. It usually only left you in tears. Either you were frustrated that you couldn't escape or mad at yourself for still being in love with Wanda. She was stronger than you and more mature too.

"Mommy did this because she loves you." Such a heavy statement with the most jarring delivery. It made you sick.

"I don't want anything to do with your or that weird ass book." The edge in your voice had long disappeared. You couldn't keep up if you put your all into every argument. You wouldn't get very far wrapped up in Wanda's arms either, but something was better than nothing. "Just leave me alone."

Wanda kissed the side of your head. "We both know you don't want that." It was all she said because that was the only lie you told. Wanda was fine if didn't want to be what she had become, and she loved you for you. She could not stand by and watch you hinder yourself out of spite. "You're safer here, you're safe with me. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you go back to work knowing you'd get hurt?"

"You're not my girlfriend. You're a liar and a criminal." You shrugged Wanda off and got out of bed. "I don't know if you've noticed, but you kidnapped me and trapped me in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

Wanda pulled you back into the bed and pinned you down. "I'd let you go back if you weren't so disobedient." Her strong hands gripped your chin and forced it to the side. She began littering your exposed neck with love bites. "If I let you go now, you'll report me and I'll have to go away for a long time. We don't want that, do we?" She harshly sucked on the gentle skin of your neck.

Your body wouldn't listen to you. Every touch lit your body on fire. "Stop, please." You whimpered. The wetness growing between your legs felt like a punishment within itself. A shiver ran down your spine as Wanda's tongue glided over your neck. "Just let me go."

The desperation in your voice made Wanda's cunt throb. "But your parts are so sticky. Why don't you let mommy help?" Her voice was low and seductive. She has you wrapped around her finger. You'd never really say no to her. All your squirming came to a halt the second her hand slipped into your underwear. "I know you wanna go be big and play detective, but you have to learn how to be a good pup first."

Hate ran hot through your veins. Why was it so hard for you to fight back? She wasn’t controlling your mind or being more aggressive than usual. All you had to do was leave. Yet, your body chose to stay. You chose to let Wanda have her way with you.“T-that feels good.” You mumbled. Her fingers were cold, nothing like the warmth you had grown to love, but that made it easier to pretend it was someone else touching you. It wasn’t Wanda who was tugging off your clothes and forcefully stretching out your cunt. Wanda would never manhandle you so carelessly.

“Pretending I’m someone else doesn’t change the fact that you like it.” Wanda slipped her fingers inside of you with ease. She didn’t bother with taking her time. Two of her fingers made quick work of cunt. “You like it when I’m mean and you like being treated like some stupid pup that can’t do anything without a mommy.” Her thumb pressed harshly against your clit as she continued fucking into you. “Say it.” Her voice was so commanding and rough. “Say you like being mommy’s dumb little puppy.”

You frantically shook your head. “I don’t and I hate you!” Internally, you braced yourself for punishment. You thought maybe she’d spank you until you caved in or smack you for having the gall to say you hated her. Instead, she just went quiet. Her fingers pulled out of your cunt and left you hanging high and dry. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not your mommy, why do you care?” She rubbed her slick-covered fingers down your cheek. “Be difficult all you want, but I mean it when I say you are not to leave this house until you learn to be obedient.”

You were left cold, naked, and alone on the bed. Wanda didn’t even bother checking in on you that night.

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲

That’s how Wanda broke you. Apathy. If you didn’t want to listen to her, she felt no obligation to listen to you. It didn’t matter how many tantrums you threw or how loud you cried, Wanda didn’t care. She was perfectly content with waiting. You were the impatient one. Which was to say you didn’t even last a full week before crumbling without Wanda’s attention. After several days of breaking things and screaming your heart out, were tired.

It was cute watching you burn yourself out.

After a particularly rough night, you found yourself desperate for comfort. Your hopes that the Wanda you had fallen in love with would magically return were dashed. You had to learn to love the new one.

You stood in the entryway of the kitchen and watched as Wanda typed away at her laptop. It was hard to give up. Your suspect was sitting just feet away and you were about to let her win. If you loved her, there was no way you could turn her in. But you needed her. You needed someone to take care of you and Wanda was offering to be that person. All you had to do was let her.

Wanda looked up from the monitor and raised her eyebrows. She pulled out a chair from the table, but didn’t say anything to you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and slowly made your way toward her. The first thing you noticed was the darkness covering her fingers, but you decided to ignore it for the sake of your relationship and sanity. Just apologize to Wanda. Don’t argue and don’t ask any questions, just apologize. “I’m sorry.”

Wanda stopped typing and turned to look at you. You looked pathetic. So small and defenseless compared to her. That’s how she wanted you. “I’m going to need a little more than that. I know you can do better.” She cupped your face and used her thumb to caress your cheek.

You sniffled in an attempt not to cry. You couldn’t believe you were really about to do this. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you. You wanted to take care of me and I was being ungrateful.” Part of you felt sick, but the other part was relieved. You were torn. Should you go back on your word or should you just accept your situation? You felt empty, but at least Wanda felt warm again.

Wanda leaned forward and placed a kiss on your lips. “I’m proud of you, baby.” Her arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight hug. “I know that was hard for you,” She whispered. There was nothing she could comfortably do about your shame, but she could love you. She could train you to love yourself. “Are you gonna learn to be mommy’s good puppy?”

You nodded and buried your face into her neck. “I’ll be good. I promise.” You let yourself be guided to the bedroom. There was no doubt about what would happen next. She’d claim you all over again and you'd let her do it. Denying yourself was so hard. "I wanna be mommy's puppy again."

Wanda laid you down on the bed and straddled your hips. "You were always mommy's puppy. Just because you have a bad time doesn't mean I don't love you anymore." Her hands slipped underneath your shirt and immediately began playing with your nipples. "Mommy loves her puppy detective even when they're mean and trying to hurt her feelings." It took almost nothing to get you all mushy and obedient. She took her sweet time stripping you naked. Leaving kisses and hickeys over every inch of newly exposed skin.

This time, you didn't try to hold back. You let yourself get lost in the comfort of Wanda's weight on top of you and the way she held you. You weren't ashamed of the wetness growing between your legs or the desperate little noises coming from your mouth. "I need mommy, please?"

Wanda smiled fondly as she let her hand wander down to the wet patch in your underwear. "Oh puppy, you're such a mess down here. I promise I won't tease you anymore." A heavy strap-on appeared around her waist. "Lay back and let mommy fill up your little puppy parts." She grabbed the base of the toy and circled it around your clit.

"It's too big." You immediately clung onto Wanda as she thrust the toy inside of you. It practically split you in two, but it felt so good. "G-go slow, it's too much!"

Wanda giggled at your sensitivity. "Baby, I haven't even moved yet." She carefully leaned down to kiss your forehead. Her hips moved as slowly as they possibly could. Every distressed whimper and small whine earned you another soft kiss from her. "I know it hurts now, but I promise you it'll feel good soon."

Wanda was right. Eventually, the pain subsided and you just felt full. The pace Wanda set for you was deep and slow. Whimpers turned into moans. You were starting to lose yourself fast. "Thank you, mommy. It feels so good."

One of her hands pinned both of your wrists above your head. The needy whines coming from your mouth were music to her ears. "Don't be shy, mommy loves hearing how good she makes you feel." Her pace slowly got faster until you were practically screaming for her. The hand she wasn't using immediately began to massage your clit. "Is my sweet little puppy gonna cum already? It's okay if you do, mommy's here to help you afterward."

Your face burned as you desperately tried to escape Wanda's nimble fingers. "N-no, I can…I can hold it!" You most certainly couldn't. Wanda was going to make sure of it. Never had Wanda denied you and she'd never let you deny yourself. "Mhm, I'm cumming! It's coming, please slow down!"

Wanda did no such thing. Instead, she trapped you in a passionate kiss as she continued rutting into you. "Come on, baby, make a big mess for mommy." Her thumb continued to torture your poor overstimulated clit until she was satisfied and sure you had gone as far as you could. Once she was done, she slowly pulled out of you and let you go limp against the mattress. "There we go, you look so cute all fucked out for mommy." She bent down and peppered kisses all over your slick-covered thighs. "I'm going to run you a bath, okay? Just stay still and relax."

For a moment, you were in pure bliss. Mindless, completely satisfied even.

Then everything began to settle in. It didn't matter how gentle Wanda was. She was a killer. You'd given yourself up to a killer and enjoyed every second of it. Not only that, but you were going to let her keep killing. You were just as bad as she was. Maybe even worse for being bribed with something as simple as good sex.

You were a dirty cop now.

[eddiernunson]

Halloween Party | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie x Fem!Reader story Trapped (go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

I am really proud of this part of the story so I thought it might deserve to stand by itself.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: It's a threesome with less experienced Eddie. No aftercare, daddy kink, faceriding, praise kink, double penetration, and hooking up under the influence. Eddie and Reader are in an established relationship for about a month at this point.

Halloween in 1985 is on a Friday, lucky fucking seniors. Steve Harrington has some words about this, seeing as his senior year’s Halloween was on a Thursday.

You, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and the rest of the seniors at Hawkins High spent all week buzzing about the upcoming holiday. Sure, some think Halloween is invented by the candy companies to make more money, but no senior can deny the value of getting absolutely wasted at Steve Harrington’s house. When you’re a young child the very appeal of Halloween comes from the free candy and running amok the neighbourhoods, but to a horny teen in rural Hawkins, Indiana in 1985 the appeal is free alcohol and many rooms to hook up at the Harrington’s. The incentive to have a sickening costume and have genuine excitement for the holiday.

On Monday you and Eddie drive over to the local costume shop to grab your costumes, giggling as Eddie suggests you be a sexy witch, or even worse, a sexy pig. How the hell is that even sexy anyway?

When the two of you go to the front desk with the costumes landing with a soft plop, the front counter girl giving you two a one up as she witnesses the downright irony of the freak of Hawkins High being an angel for Halloween. “Please tell me you are going to Harrington’s party.” She says, entering the prices into her computer.

“Yep.” Eddie says, giving you a look.

“Thank God. I cannot wait to see the Freak dressed in all white as a fucking angel.” She giggles, excitedly placing your costumes in a plastic bag.

Eddie grabs your hand, holding you back from swinging at her for outright insulting your boyfriend.  “Not worth it. She means well.” He whispers, then giving her a fake smile and tugging you toward the door.

On Friday during lunch Eddie announces that for one time and one time only he is cancelling Hellfire for Halloween, claiming he doesn’t have any time to go to the party and lead Hellfire.

Of course, he was met with groans of how hypocritical he was and how lame it was to cancel Hellfire when Halloween fell perfectly on a Friday. He didn’t care, smirking at you across the cafeteria as he places his two pointer fingers on his head to mimic a devil. You place your hands together as if you were an angel in response, igniting laughter out of him.

This leads to you standing in front of your mirror tugging on the short yet leathery red dress you were wearing, your fingers rubbing against the bright red nail polish you wore. You self consciously rub your tummy, the dress much lower cut than you had expected. Your hair was teased and curled, sprayed into oblivion as you knew the devil horns was going to get all tangled up in your hair.

The plastic tail that came with the horns occasionally brushed up against your legs, something you weren’t used to. You wore red flats as to not hurt your feet through the night, your eyeshadow a bright red blended out to your brows to high heavens and your lipstick glossy and ruby red. This was as good as it was gonna get.

You went downstairs, your mom offering you a ride, so you didn’t drive, Eddie getting a ride from Wayne for the same reasons. “You look amazing!” Your mom shouts, causing you to shy look at your feet as she looks at you in a new way.

“Is Eddie going as a devil, too?” She asks as she grabs the keys. The two of you walk to her small car, a car she bought for herself when she was no longer driving you around anymore in a big van.

“No,” you say, keeping your knees awkwardly together as you get into the car. “He’s an angel.”

“Funny.” Your mom deadpans, rolling her eyes as she rolls out of the driveway.

You pull up to the party a half hour late, basically on time for Steve’s parties. You saw a few groups of people making their way up the driveway of Steve’s massive house, the sight of it feeling almost alien as you’re now used to the quiet of his parents out of town and you, Robin and Steve hanging out in his living room.

She drops you off, making a half a joke about staying safe, but you heard the truth behind it. “Love you!” you call, waddling over to the front door.

You hear the music as soon as you get out of your mom’s car, hearing the loud voice of Whitney Houston asking to dance with somebody. Reaching the wide-open front door, the heat of the house already radiating from the dancing teens hitting you as you walk in. You almost regretted wearing faux leather now. You scanned the room, seeing Steve and Robin in the corner. Steve was dressed as Peter Pan and Robin as Tinkerbelle. Her outfit wasn’t nearly as revealing as the blonde cartoon character, but it was clear from the green shirt and cargo pants with the fairy wings on her back and glitter on her face she was Tinkerbelle. “Hi Peter!” you say, shouting over the music.

“Oh, shit!” Steve says as he gives you a one-up at your red and daring get up. “You look.” He gives a look to Robin and manages to gain the breath you took away from him. “I think Eddie will cream his pants on the spot let’s just say that.”

 “I hope not I want to wait until we get to one of the rooms.” You joke and turn towards the counter where red solo cups are sitting pretty waiting for new consumers.

Steve leans back in exasperation, mad at his dick for betraying him. “Okay, well I’m gonna have a drink, did you want something?”

“Hell no,” you mutter, grabbing your own. “Last time you mixed me a vodka soda you nearly made me tipsy one drink in.”

“That was the goal!” He yells, laughing as the vodka glugs into his cup.

“So, where’s Wendy?” you ask, yet understanding the irony of their costumes and why Robin isn’t dressed as Wendy for the night.

“Oh, she’s my date!” Steve says, nodding his chin over towards a girl in brown hair dressed in a blue pajama dress that was only down to her thighs. “Brittany, you’ll meet her later! You’re gonna love her, I promise!”

“Can’t wait!” you say unenthusiastically, already having met many of Steve’s latest dates. You mix your own drink, knowing Steve will let you drink any of his alcohol.

You dance absentmindedly to Thriller, your eyes rolling as it plays at a Halloween party. By the time song #6 plays and your inhibitions are somewhat already gone, you’ve gone through two drinks and can feel some the affects of alcohol affecting your system.  

You have your hand with the drink up in the air, side stepping to the beat now in a circle with Steve, Robin, and Brittany, and suddenly you feel an arm snake around your midriff. “Hi, my sexy little devil,” you hear low in your left ear.

You have half a mind to tell the mysterious man to back off because you had an awesome boyfriend who would kick his ass, but your train of thought was stopped in its tracks when it was him. Eddie was there, two arms laid on your shoulders, and you take in Eddie dressed in all his angelic glory. He had his hair slicked back into a ponytail, a white button-down shirt and a white pair of paints with a halo head band resting on his gelled up hair and a small pair of angel wings on his back. To top it off, he had some glitter on his cheek bones, and the only thing you see that’s normal about your boyfriend is his rings. Thank God he’s still wearing the rings.

“Jesus, who are you and where is Eddie Munson?” you ask, your words partially slurred. “Is that glitter on your cheeks?”

Eddie laughs at your slurred speech, astounded you were already so intoxicated. “One of my bandmembers LARPS in his free time, he has way more glitter than you could imagine.”

Your face is awestruck to this information. “That’s very resourceful of you.”

Eddie laughs, walking over to the table to pour himself a drink. He looks up anxiously, wondering if any of his classmates were giving him dirty looks. So far, so good. He pours too much baileys into a coke, wanting to get on your level, so to speak. “Well, give me ten minutes, ok? I need to catch up.”

“Ten minutes? Good luck with that.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you are dancing in the living room, both of your cares gone. He was right. It only took ten minutes for him to get as drunk as you were, but by the time he got there, you were another drink and a half in, your drunk competitiveness shining through. He has his arm wrapped around you and if he was sober enough to care he would blanch at the pop songs that seem to be exclusively playing through the speakers, but he only knew the beat and his thigh placed between your legs as you two grinded.

You can’t tell how much time goes by as you’re lost in the beat with him, noting the sweat gathering on his forehead and the light pain burning into your thighs as you stay half bent for a good while. You were lost with his hands placed on your ass when you hear from someone, loud and clear. “Why is the freak here? When Harrington said the rules, I didn’t think he was being serious! God, I don’t want to see that shit!”

Eddie, in his drunken haze is pulled out of the intoxication that was your body against his and scans the room quickly to find Steve going through his tapes. “Harrington!” He calls, his arm leaving your waist as he stumbles across. “Harrington!”

By this time, Steve Harrington is also drunk and, in his haze, had to keep his eyes from roaming to you across the room desperately grinding on what he wished was thigh, but was Eddie’s. Shit was getting complicated, and he was not a big fan. “Uh yeah?”

“You said point, ya? Point and they’re gone?” Eddie clarifies before making a fool out of himself.

It takes a moment for Steve to comprehend what Eddie was going on about. “Uh, yeah. Point, and they’re banned.”

Eddie points dramatically across the room to where one of the jocks was chatting up a girl dressed as a bunny (predictable) and raises is eyebrows at Steve.

“Oh! Shit, Okay gotchya.” Steve walks as confidently as he can over to the jock, even in his own drunken and confused haze, and grabs the over towering jock by the shoulder. “Get out.”

“Wait, what?” He asks, turning to face Steve.

“Get. Out.” Steve says, pointing to the door. “You knew the rules. You even so much as look at Munson wrong, you’re out. Out!”

“You were serious about that shit? He and his little slut girlfriend were grinding all over the room, you expect me to not say anything about that? Bullshit!” He yells, making a big scene.

Eddie saw red as soon as he heard him call you a slut. Yeah, he calls you a slut all the time, but that was for his enjoyment alone. He runs across the room to him, and his hands are in fists ready to throw punches.

“Hey!” Steve yells, pushing him lightly off the bewildered jock. “Let me handle this.” He looks back to the jock and holds back his own want to pummel him into the dirt. Steve doesn’t have good track record with picking fights, but each time it was for a noble cause, and this sounds noble enough. “Get the fuck out of my house. No more hook up parties for Bongo.”

Steve has a few other friends of his that were his age help him yank the asshole outside, now much easier with the help.

“This is almost too much power.” Eddie mumbles as people are no longer shooting him anything remotely close to a dirty look. He glances to you, and your arms are now across your stomach, and you’re hunched over. “Hey.” He mutters, too drunk for this he decides as he tries to calm you down.

“Hi.” You whisper, the gloss of a tear forming in your eye. “Does everyone think I’m a slut? Is that why you call me one?”

Fuck. Eddie shushes you, pulling you into his arms. “No, no. He’s an asshole with asshole opinions. I call you one because I thought it would be sexy and fun. I only call you one when we’re both enjoying each other, yeah?”

“Oh. Okay. Can we get more drinks?” You ask, missing the buzz you lost from the adrenaline of watching your boyfriend defend your honour.

“Sure, baby.”

The two of you down two more drinks each, ending up on Steve’s couch as Steve is telling a story about something that happened in the pool, he worked at with a shithead kid. “I’m telling you! This kid lived to make trouble. I had to beg our manager to let me ban him, but every time Don would come for evidence the kid was a fucking, well Eddie I guess.”

You and Eddie giggle as well as the ones who were listening to him. Logically, there’s no possibility you should be able to hear him with the music still bursting through the speakers. Yet, there were about nine or ten of you gathered on the couch and you could hear every word. You were sat on Eddie’s lap, stroking his hair, however gelled and gross it may feel while you were sober. You didn’t care.

Steve wrapped up his story, talking quietly to Brittany and Robin. You barely had spoken to Brittany all night like Steve had promised, but from the “eeugh” looks he kept giving Robin about what she would say you guessed you wouldn’t be getting to know her anyways.

You looked at your boyfriend, and noticed his brown eyes were turned downward at your red (smeared) lips. “See something you like, handsome?” you ask, voice low and feeling his boner underneath your thighs.

“I see a lot of what I like.” He mutters, and you swear in your drunken haze he is slowly getting closer to you. You feel your eyes close, and Eddie’s lips are on yours, his tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth, feeling electric as you move to straddle him. He kisses you with fervour, his hands finding their way frantically into your wild and teased hair.

Your hips grinds itself to his, and you hear a wolf whistle coming from a couch cushion right next to you. You look over, your red lips even more smeared and Eddie has his own share of it on his.

“Get a room.” Robin states, still only lightly buzzed and sipping out of her red solo cup. “Seriously I don’t wanna see this. Go.”

You look at Eddie, his lipstick-covered lips barely even registering to you, you’re too fucking horny and drunk for that to even register. You grab his hand and tug him up the stairs. You knock on three doors, each one of them someone yells out it’s occupied. Finally, you get to the one at the end of the hall, and no one answers when you knock.

You hesitate to open, scared to see some live action porn but Eddie opens it for you, impatient, and wanting your devil costume on the floor. He shuts it behind you and thank God there’s a fucking bed in here. The lack of light is providing a vision impairment, but you didn’t really care, your lips latched onto his like the answer to world peace is in the back of his throat. You frantically start unbuttoning his shirt, your intoxicated body stumbling through each one. You’re on the last button when Eddie rips off his shirt, the button rolling across the hardwood floor. He reaches behind you, unzipping your dress and letting it slide down your waist.

You step out of your costume, the tail going with it. You reach up to take out your horns but Eddie places his hand on your wrist, stopping you. “Wear them. They’re hot.” Eddie mumbles, leaning in to kiss down your neck.

“Does that mean you wear your halo?” You ask, giggling as you look at the sparkly overpriced pipe cleaner.

“How am I supposed to eat you out with this on?” He asks, pushing you to guide you towards the four postered bed. He hanks the halo off, tossing it with the busted button.

You lie down on the bed, your legs spread showing the lacy black panties you wore and the strapless bra for the strappy dress. You shivered in anticipation to what he was going to do to you, your chest heaving.

“Roll onto your stomach, baby.” He mutters. When you silently listen to his command, he slaps your ass lightly, causing a moan to escape your mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He slips your panties down your ass, and you hear his belt buckle and fly being zipped down. “Daddy is gonna fuck you for a little bit then I will make you cum, okay baby?”

Eddie slips into you, bottoming out with no time to let you adjust. “Holy shit, baby, you are so wet.” He mutters, already starting to thrust into you slowly. “Are you all revved up, my little devil?”

You nod, but Eddie barely sees as your face is pushed into the pillow, headbanded devil horns slightly too rough against your scalp. “C’mon tell me with your words.”

You lift your head, forced to use your hand as support. “Was so horny. You look so fucking hot. I love your cock, daddy, feels so good.”

“Love your fucking pussy, baby. So pretty, so tight, so wet, just for daddy. Fucking love my little slut’s pussy.” In Eddie’s mind he cannot stop thinking how much your wet heat just feels so good around him. He needs a taste, wanted to be drunk on your greedy little cunt. Without warning you his cock leaves your pussy, and he gives you a big lap down your pussy lips. “Holy shit, baby. Your pussy tastes,” he pauses, giving another lick to your wet slick. “Fucking good. Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue contacting your pussy sends pleasure waves down your body, despite your intoxication. You lean back into the pillow, moaning loudly so no one in the next rooms can hear you. Even with the pillow muffling you, he can hear you loud and clear, digging into it like a man starved. He wraps his ring-clad fingers around your thighs, grabbing onto them harshly.

As Eddie gets into your pussy and takes in every drop he can possibly swallow and you hike your ass up more and moan louder into the pillow, either of you hear a heavy set of footsteps walking down the hall and closer and closer to the unlocked door.

If you did hear what was transpiring, you would hear Steve Harrington knocking on his bedroom door, wondering if any of the couples had made his way into the room. He heard faint moaning, but he was too drunk to understand it had come from the other side of his door. He opened the door, seeing no light on and no other reason to think anyone was in there and walked on in, only to stop dead in his tracks. The sight of you bent over the very pillows his head was leant on thinking about you with his cock in his hand last week caused his already slight hard on to get harder, the sight of Eddie eating you out doing nothing to help his situation. He knew he had a light attraction to Eddie, something he had put off for years, but the sight of the two of you so emersed in it not to even notice him had him gawking in his doorway.

Eddie places his thumb on your clit, slowly rotating it on your swollen bud and Steve sees as your thighs tense up immensely and you can barely support yourself on your knees. Eddie moves his head back to rub his two fingers on your folds, watching as they caused more slick to gush out of your folds. Eddie is so entranced by his fingers against your pussy, he suddenly notices the light from the hallway and a very specific shadow in the doorway.

He looks back over his shoulder to see Steve Harrington, slips his two fingers into you, your ass hiking up in response. “Oh shit!” You yell into the pillow are oblivious to any light cascaded onto the bed.

“Hi.” Eddie mutters, fucking his fingers into you and shooting a darkened glance to Steve, who was unashamedly watching his limber fingers moving. He looks down to where Steve is watching and smirks. “She’s pretty, ain’t she?” he asks, licking his lips as he switches his glance between the two of you.

“Y-yeah.” Steve mutters, his hand moving to palm himself in his green Peter Pan costume. “Very pretty.”

“You wanna taste?” Eddie asks, somewhere a sober version of him asking what the fuck he was doing, but his inhibitions already flown away and not coming back until tomorrow.

“U-uh, what?” He asks, making sure he heard Eddie right.

“Her pretty little pussy. You wanna taste?” Eddie says and leans in to give a long stripe of wet up your folds. 

“D-daddy feels so good.” You should in the pillow still unaware your pussy was on full display for the man who you’ve been accidentally dreaming about for a week.

“Holy shit.” Steve mumbles. He looks at Eddie and nods his head, and Eddie is suddenly put into action. He moves you easily so you’re on your back, and when you face the light and the man silhouette in front of you, your eyes take a moment to adjust to him.

Suddenly Steve’s presence is known by you, and you want to close your legs in embarrassment despite Eddie still having two of his fingers fucking into you. “Baby.” He says, crawling up your body. “Can Steve have a taste?”

“Wh-what?” you stutter, starting at Steve who was palming himself and staring openly at between your legs. Despite your protests, Eddie feels your pussy gush and become wetter at the sight of Steve, and he understands your body wants what is immoral to have while you are dating him.

“Can Steve taste this nice wet little pussy of yours?” He asks kissing your neck to butter you up. “I felt you get wetter at seeing him look at you. It’s okay if you want it.”

“Yes.” You whisper, afraid he would get mad at you and claim to set you up as a test.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie grabs him and reaches in to kiss Steve harshly on the lips, his tongue colliding with Steve’s as soon as they start kissing, Steve starting to lead him, noting the lack of experience and confidence in kissing someone besides you for the first time. You watch them make out, your fingers latching onto your clit and rubbing it as you Steve and Eddie get lost in each other, Eddie palming Steve as Steve moans loudly.

“C’mon, have a taste.” Eddie mutters, grabbing Steve’s hand and escorting him to sit in-between your legs.

Steve needs no more encouragement. You shiver in anticipation as you had heard the stories of Steve’s expert tongue for the last two years, both from Nancy and the girls he had slept with when he realized nothing else was there for him.

He leans in with more confidence than Eddie, his tongue longer and wider in size. He licks a long stripe up your pussy, licking onto your clit hard, causing a red heat to burst from it and down your thighs. You hike your legs up and around his head, the shaking of your thighs uncontrollable and the moans from your mouth loud and sinful.

Steve’s hand makes it way up your body, latching underneath your bra and grabbing your nipple. “You taste so goddamn good.” He sighs, his hot breath erotic on your puffy pussy lips. “Way better than I even imagined.”

You open your eyes to see Steve’s eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, fully immersed in the taste and feeling of you. You look up to face your boyfriend who was jerking himself off at the sight of you and Steve together. “You have no idea, Stevie. Wait until she squirts all over your fucking face. There’s nothing like it.”

“Can’t fucking wait.” Steve’s other thumb makes its way into your asshole, something Eddie has never even thought to do.

“Oh my god” you squeal, your eyes opening wide in response. “Stevie feels so fucking good.”

Eddie makes his way to one side of the bed, his cock right by your face. “Suck on my cock, princess.”

You reach out, jerking him off and tugging him towards your mouth. Eddie pushes his cock into your mouth, fucking your throat slowly as you can feel a slow heat start to creep from your stomach and through your legs. “Holy shit, that mouth of yours you suck so well.” Eddie mutters, keeping eye contact with Steve lapping up the juices coming out of you faster.

Your hole puckers around Steve’s thumb, it takes time to adjust. He feels your hole start to cling onto it, as if begging Steve’s thumb to creep further in. “Little cunt is very greedy.” Steve comments as he starts to fuck his tongue into your pussy hole.

The raw feeling of Eddie’s cock fucking now relentlessly into your mouth, Steve’s thumb in your ass and his tongue fucking into you became too much to bear. “Oh shit.” You whimper around Eddie’s cock. “I’m close”

“Is she allowed to cum, yet Stevie?” Eddie asks, placing his ring-clad fingers in your hair harshly against your scalp.

“Has she been good?” Steve asks, huffing as he can feel your stomach tighten up and your legs tense.

“Such a good fucking girl.” Eddie mutters, still fucking your throat. You can start to feel tears threaten to fall down your face from the feeling of his cock becoming too much in your mouth and your jaw start to hurt.

“Okay.” Steve mutters, sounding almost bored, the very tone almost hurting your feelings as you’re so fucking overwhelmed by everything they’re giving you. Steve sucks on your clit harshly, the familiar feeling of a heat spreading from your clit, through your stomach and floating into your head and the same little voice tells you to let go. You gush all over Steve’s face, moaning around Eddie’s cock and careful not to bite down on how good it feels.

Steve licks his mouth, not expecting you to squirt on him right from the get-go, but loving the feeling nonetheless. “Holy shit. Ed, you were right. Nothing like it. I’m gonna fuck her now.”

“Tell me how the slut’s pussy feels, Stevie.”

Steve asks Eddie to bring his cock out of your mouth and yanks your ass, so your back is now right on top of your stain you made on Steve’s bed. “Oh, I will.” Steve brings his pants down to his ankles, and you drool at the sight of his cock. It’s bigger than what you were accustomed to with Eddie, but the very image of it made you pray he would put it into your mouth.

Steve lines himself up to your pussy, the slick from your squirting making you wet enough for him to slide right in. Your jaw drops as he enters, Eddie jerking himself off from the sight of it. Steve leans down to finally kiss you, and you attempt to lead him like you’re used to but quickly get scolded into Steve leading you. He expertly uses his tongue on yours, bucking his hips harshly against yours all the while, not stopping to do either one like Eddie might do sometimes.

“Jesus,” you mutter, your mouth hanging open as you can’t concentrate on kissing him.

Steve stops his movements. “Kiss me. You can do it, baby. Keep kissing me.” You do what he says, moans coming from a guttural place in the back of this throat as his holds his hand around your neck.

Eddie comes up beside you after watching this, almost perfectly content in this threesome becoming a twosome with him watching from the corner. “Baby I’m gonna fuck your ass.” You nod at him, letting go of Steve’s kiss and reaching for the familiarity of Eddie’s. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

Steve gets up, knowing Eddie won’t be able to properly fuck you if he’s lying on top of you. You whine at the loss of Steve’s cock, but he barely gives you a chance to even revel in the feeling of it. He grabs you by the hand, yanks you off his bed without any effort. The blanket is torn off as well, now covered in your slick, but he just wanted the light sheets instead of his heavy comforter.

Steve lies down, getting you to crawl on top of him. “Put my cock in your pussy so Eddie can fuck that tight little asshole of yours, baby.” Steve commands, soft and barely showing that any of this is affecting him like you and Eddie both desperately are. You do as he asks, lying so your ass is perfectly in perfect aim for Eddie to slide into and sinking down onto his cock. “That’s a good girl. Now Ed slide into that little asshole of hers.”

“Does she need lube or anything?” Eddie asks, watching and jerking himself absentmindedly as he watches you get fucked from below. He gets to fuck you every day if he wants to, but he never gets to see you get fucked quite like this.

“Oh my god you really were a virgin.” Steve says, hearing your moans loud in his ear as he continues to fuck you. “No just spit on that little hole and ram into her, she’ll adjust fine.”

Eddie listens, licking your asshole for a few moments, spitting generously onto it. You can feel him lining his nice cock to your second hole, and you close your eyes, excited to be filled by both men who have been in your fantasies in recent years. Eddie barely gives you time to register the head of his cock in your hole when he continues in, and you feel so full.

Full is a word, but it barely describes it. You are so filled to the brim that your body shakes and convulses, Steve stopping his movements to let you adjust to the feeling. “How’s that feel, baby?” Steve asks, looking in awe at your pleasure-stricken face. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You lean onto Steve’s body, his nipples peaked as one of your pinkies tugs onto it with out realizing. “Baby is so cock drunk she can’t even speak.” Steve comments, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie.

“Oh, she’s not that dumbed out on cock is she, Stevie?” Eddie asks, waiting until Steve tells him to start fucking you.

Steve chuckles, leaning in to kiss your neck with little kitten licks in between each bite. “Let’s find out.”

Steve’s hips start moving and Eddie takes it as the go ahead. If you thought you felt full before, it was nothing compared to the two men’s cock moving in sync, your mouth opening involuntarily at the overwhelming, all intoxicating pleasure they were thrusting into you. Every part of your body, every inch of your skin was covered in fire. You couldn’t even tell if you were close again or not because your body has never felt this good. Steve notices the slack jaw of yours, and places who of his fingers inside your mouth. “Aw, poor baby.”

“How’s her pussy, Stevie?” Eddie’s gruff voice asks, and by the look of his mixed-up face and stuttering thrusts Steve can tell he’s already close.

“Fucking fantastic. You should see her face. All fucked out. Never seen such a pretty little face.” He compliments you, bringing his spare hand to frame your face, tangling his hands in your teased hair. “Fuck you looked so fucking hot tonight. Whoever told you to dress like a devil I wanna fucking kiss them”

“Already did, Stevie.” Eddie chuckles, doing his best to hold back from cumming but doing a terrible job on his face.

“Eddie, you need to cum, baby?” Steve asks, absentmindedly continuing to fuck you.

“Mmhm.” He mutters, his hands fierce on your hips and even you can tell he’s really holding back in your dazed out brain.

“Then cum.” Eddie stops resisting, and shoots his cum right into your ass, a heavier load than you have ever received from him. Steve stops thrusting too, kissing you as Eddie finishes shooting his gooey white substance into you. “How is our fucked out little baby?” Steve asks, looking at you with half lidded eyes.

“Mm. Good.” You mumble kissing Steve back with more energy and enthusiasm than you knew you had in you still.

Steve sits up, silently commanding Eddie to leave your ass as he takes his own cock out of your pussy. “I’m going to eat you out and Eddie is going to suck on my cock,” he looks at Eddie, “and swallow every drop. Understood?”

“Yes.” Eddie says, already somewhat hard from being ordered like this.

“Good boy.” Steve moves the three of you effortlessly so he’s lying down on the bed, you’re sitting on his face, and Eddie is sucking his cock. You sit on Steve so you’re facing your boyfriend, watching as he’s jerking Steve off and about to suck a cock for the first time. “Has Eddie ever sucked cock before?” Steve asks, noting the hesitation.

“No.” You answer for him, watching as the same wonder you had staring at Eddie’s cock is on Eddie’s face.

“Baby, be a good girl and teach him, will ya?” Steve asks, latching his tongue onto your pussy lips without a second’s hesitation.

“O-okay,” you whimper, the feeling of Steve’s expert tongue already sending you fast over the edge. You take a moment to reel the heat spreading from your sensitive pussy, not sent over the edge from the double penetration but almost too fucked out to understand if you were.

“Teach him.” Steve barks out, running out of patience.

“Sorry.” You whimper. You look to your boyfriend, who looks up at you for all the answers. You sucked his cock well after all. “Okay. Take-ah” you take a moment to whimper as Steve rewards you by sucking onto your clit. “Take his cock into your mouth but be careful of your teeth. I don’t bite, but I do use my teeth to suck on your cock harder.” You whimper, Steve now building a slow rhythm as a reward. “Fuck, Steve,”

Eddie tentatively starts sucking on Steve’s cock, his cheeks hollowing out, copying something he saw from you, and understanding what you meant by not using your teeth to bite but to suck. As soon as he has the feeling of Steve’s big cock in his mouth, he looks to you for more help.

“Bob your head up and down but roll it almost for a really good rhythm.” You teach him more, as the coil starts to form in the pit of your stomach from both the feeling of Steve eating you out unapologetically and watching Eddie work hard on pleasing Steve. Teaching Eddie led to Steve moaning, which lead to a vibration being sent up your pussy. Steve’s hips start to move on their own accord, and you watch as Eddie struggles to regain his rhythm. “Eddie, let him fuck your throat. As soon as your hips start moving, I let you do all the work.”

You leant down to grab onto Eddie’s ponytail, holding on to it to help Steve fuck his throat better. You didn’t expect to be so turned on by it, but Steve could feel the juices leaking out of you, faster as you get closer.

“Fuck, Stevie, I’m close.” You say one hand still on Eddie but your nails clawing into Steve’s chest.

“Wait til I cum, baby. I’m close too.” Steve says, and for the first time since he walked in he sounded like he was enjoying himself.

It was just less than a minute of Steve thrusting into Eddie’s mouth when he finally finishes, giving no warning as his mouth was still on you. “Cum, baby.” He mutters, and the coil in your stomach finally snaps with what felt like an actual snap in your tummy. The orgasm is all consuming, and flutters all around your extended limbs and crosses your eyes. Eddie swallows around Steves cock, and you cum into Steve’s mouth as you watch him, Eddie leaning up and showing you all Steve’s cum in his mouth. You lean in to kiss Eddie, lapping some of Steve’s cum into your mouth, wanting to share the taste of him. Steve bites your thigh to get off his face and you and Eddie look up at him to show him what you’ve been doing.

Steve leans up onto his elbows, laughing in disbelief as he sees the two of your cocked out faces visibly and audibly swallow his cum. “Fuck. That went better than I could’ve expected.” Steve laughs, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

You climb off him, grabbing Eddie’s hand to do the same. “I mean, I pictured it, but never expected it to come true.” You admit, looking around in the dark for your costume.

“I knew you did.” Steve mutters, glad of the confirmation of the lingering touches that’s been occurring more often and more recently. “I fucking knew it.”

“What now?” Eddie asks, and you and Steve look at each other, a mutual agreement.

There was nothing past this. No lingering need for Steve to be your boyfriend and you, his girlfriend. The need and desire the both of you had was purely physical, and now you had it out of your systems. “Honestly, I think we both agree it’s physical.” You admit, hoping Eddie wasn’t ready for a full throuple.

“Okay good. I’m a bit relieved, then.” Eddie admits, also shallow enough to admit for him it was only physical to Steve. “Now I know you’re willing to bat for the other team though.” Eddie laughs.

“Ditto.” Steve retorts, stretching in his bed. “Alright. I’m going back downstairs. I’ll see you both later.” Steve gets back into his costume, fixes his hair and feathered hat in the mirror and gives you both a gentle forehead kiss to trot on downstairs.

“Fuck.” Eddie mutters, looking for the light switch by feeling up the wall in the dark. “That was..”

“Intense.” You mutter, waddling into his arms, still naked.

“Any regrets?” you ask, the memories of your double penetration sharp in your mind and all the over stimulation that came with it.

“God, no. That was sick. Plus, not everyone gets to say within the first dozen times they’ve had sex one of them was a threesome.” Eddie chuckles, now scanning the room so the two of you can get dressed.

“Hate to break it to you, baby, but your hair is so messy.” You tell him, his baby hairs flying away from the jail of the gel on his head.

“Eh. They didn’t think we went up for snacks.” Eddie shrugs, passing you your dress and panties.

You mutter a thanks and the two of you get dressed back into your couple’s costume, and you wonder what he will think of next year, too. Every Halloween, you couldn’t wait until the one where you had your first kid, when Eddie is a middle-aged long-haired metal head and you’re passing out candies with all your teenagers out doing whatever.

It was a scary thought considering how new your relationship was, but it was intense and something you’ve never felt. The longing to be with someone. Forever.

The two of you went downstairs, your red lipstick now entirely gone, some of it on Eddie’s mouth, some on his cock. Some of it was even on Steve’s mouth. As you reached the couch, sitting the same way you were before but without hormones kicking in.

Robin sits next to you two and makes an astute observation as she just left a conversation with Steve for him to let Brittany down gently. “Hey, Eddie. Your lips look just like Steve’s. He has the same red on his-” Robin’s eyes widen and her mouth slaps across her face in astonishment.

“You didn’t!” she says, leaning in not to grab attention. As if it were possible, the party still going strong and the music bumping.

“Sorry Robin,” Eddie shrugs the back of his hand slowly rubbing against your lower back. “I don’t suck dick and tell.”

Robin’s eyes go wide at this, and she runs to go ask Steve the same thing for confirmation. The two of you don’t pay attention to their conversation, too wrapped up in a bubble of falling but not quite in love. You two kiss, the tension of wanting to fuck no longer there. Just, absolute care and affection. You swear you could hear Nancy fake gag as she sits next to you on the couch, but Eddie responds how he usually would.

A white painted middle finger high, not care in the world. 

[oneshotnewbie]

In love with my best friend - Spencer Hastings x Reader

Authors note: This short story is not related to a request but is something I came up with that I couldn't get out of my head. Maybe you like it anyway! 🙈

Summary: There is one unspoken rule between best friends; never fall in love with them. But like most rules, this was made to be broken. You fell in love with Spencer and as luck would have it, she was dating Toby. But when you confess your love for her, everything turns out differently than you thought.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Spencer Hastings was undoubtedly your best friend. Not that you had many friends, although there were plenty of people you got along with, you trusted nobody as much like Spencer. You had no siblings but a sister could hardly have been closer to you- you knew that.

It was odd. After all, you did only known each other a few years, but you assumed that time played less of a role in friendship than the experiences shared. And fighting side by side against a common enemy was certainly something that could bond two young girls together.

Yes, Spencer Hasting was a great woman; smart, kindhearted, brave, super loyal and absolutely reliable. And that is exactly what started growing butterflies in your stomach. However, there was one flaw that let you know you will never get to call her your girlfriend- when she could not stop babbling about her boyfriend.

"Oh, come on, Y/n!" she wailed in a tone that made you want to squeeze your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your skin. Just a little, it would hardly hurt. "Do you not want to know what he got me for our anniversary?"

"No, I do not want to" you hissed as you dropped the fork with a clatter into the bowl.

Spencer seemed taken aback for a moment, but then her face lit up and she waved the necklace in front of your face again while you stared grimly at the piece of tomato that jumped out of the bowl. "Ha! You are only saying that because you do not know how great he is!"

Then your patience, which is quite thin by nature, snapped. "Damn it, Spencer!" you lifted your eyes to your best friend, who had moved intrusively close to you. The brunette was not exactly known for keeping a distance of discretion. "I do not care how great your fucking Toby is, okay?"

She slowly slipped her hands off the chain around her neck and the wide grin faded from her face as if the harshness you displayed tonight had wiped it away. However, she did not seem offended. On the contrary, she seemed extremely worried. "What is going on, shorty?"

"Nothing is wrong," with shaky fingers, you tried to lift the mushy tomato between your nails and shove it into the sink. "Just because I do not want to take a closer look at that gold chain around your neck that you bother me with all the time does not mean something is wrong"

Inside, you were despairing. You would most likely to want her to yell at you. Would love to hear her say how bad of a person you were, not enjoying their happiness. Maybe then you would feel less like a monster than you already did.

"There must be a reason for my best friend´s grumpy face though. You are never usually like that"

This almost made you laugh out loud. You were in the midst of a terrible war of emotions and feelings that were raging inside of you. Love and hate were close together and fought flawlessly in your soul for the rightness of them. On one hand, you were happy that the brunette had found someone who loved her with all her faults and flaws. However, you had hoped that you were the one who could offer all of those things to her.

You sighed deeply and got up to dump your dinner into the trash; your appetite was completely gone. Spencer´s face changed from a deep confusion to a frighteningly serious one that sent a chill down your spine. "It is about Toby, is it not?" In your stance, you flinched slightly and did not let a word escape your mouth, but she instantly knew that her guess was correct. "Ever since I told you it was serious between the two of us, you seemed completely lost in thought and distanced"

You still retreated in silence, but your hands were shaking so much that you dropped the empty bowl into the sink. And the youngest Hastings had noticed that too. Quickly, she jumped out of her chair and put her arm comfortingly around your shoulders while you clutched the marble, knuckles already turning white.

"I love you.." you began to speak in a low voice, looking down at your fingers scraping the stainless steel. Emily had previously advised you to stay away from the subject and try to shut off your feelings. She had warned you urgently, yet you had ignored every word and walked into a circular saw with open arms.

And worst of all, you did probably jeopardized the friendship with your stupid revelation.

"I did not mean to develop feelings for you but I did not stop them the first time I felt it and-" Spencer could clearly hear the uncertainty in your restless voice and stopped you to catch your breath. She pulled you closer and if you did not know her better, you would have assumes that she would want to kill you for ruining her relationship with the boy she fell in love with. "You have to stop,"

"With what?"

"Wanting to explain yourself," she paused for a moment, biting her lip as the front of her body gently pressed against your back and her head hovered over your shoulder. A clearing of her throat escaped her before she continued to speak. "Y/n, look at me"

You turned your face to her and saw a strange sight, two adult friends standing close together, one pulling the other into a tight and loving embrace. You, aware of how close Spencer was to you and how your heart started pounding violently in your chest, could not help but smile. "If Toby would see us like this.."

The older one seemed confused for a moment, then laughed out loud until her body shook with yours. Gently, she wrapped both arms tightly around your body and her face moved dangerously close to yours, your lips almost meeting. "I do not care"

With a mixture of curiosity and nervousness, you looked into her large and brown eyes, the color of which had darkened and was almost unrecognizable through the enlarged pupils staring at you.

"May I..?" Her gaze dropped to your lips with the warmest, friendliest smile you had ever seen and you nodded as your heart started leaping with excitement in your chest. As her soft lips brushed yours and kissed them gently, you felt the almost unnatural warmth that spread through every single fiber of your body.

As Spencer unintentionally pulled away from you, there was silence for a long moment before she began to whisper barely audible. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, I did not think it would ever happen" her lips slammed back onto yours, slowly kissing their way down to your chin and shoulder before nibbling at the tender skin of your neck.

The sensation you felt overwhelmed your senses, letting you moan briefly before you laid your head back and thus allowed her to dive further with rough bites. Your hands settled on her hips, gently pulling her closer to you. They roamed her whole body until they caught on the buttons of her expensive blouse, that you were feverishly trying to open.

Spencer and you were so busy with each other, that you did not realized you were being watched from the patio door.

[release-the-hound]

as a havanese owner, what would you say their energy levels are like? trainability? grooming needs? looking into getting small dogs in the future and havanese are on the list of possibilities

I think part of the reason Havanese are so wonderful for so many people is that their energy levels are extremely variable. A well bred Havanese should match its energy levels to its owners for the most part. There are days where I have only taken Whim outside to potty, and spent the rest of my time sick in bed, and she has happily cuddled up next to me and slept by my side. But she has also happily galloped alongside me for a 5km run, and been eager for more. Ultimately what Havanese want more than a specific amount of activity, is to be doing activity with their person.

Of course, I always celebrate doing more with your dog. I try to give Whim at least a 20 minute walk daily. Along with minimum 5 minutes dedicated training session and a food puzzle for enrichment. Often I am able to do more than that.

(One if my favorite off-leash adventures with Whim. A 3 hour walk through unusually deep snow. So many sniffs and lots of excellent recalls!)

When my sister died, I was frequently doing less, for weeks. And she didn't devolve into a frustrated barking mess, didn't chew up my apartment, she was a little bored, but she was never miserable. She just lay in my bed, by my side, day after day, until I was ready to face the world again.

(I cannot overstate how good Whim is at cuddling. If there was an international competition for it, she'd win it every year.)

I really think for disabled people, Havanese have the ideal energy level. You can meet their base needs fairly easily, but if you are up for adventure they're always ready to come along for a ride.

(Whim travels frequently on airplanes with me, and is always complimented on her good behavior.)

Grooming needs are the sticking point for many people, unfortunately. While Havanese are genrtically capable of producing a short coat, it's against the breed standard, and so I don't know of anyone intentionally breeding for that.

For me, a non-shedding dog is worth extra grooming, but I know that's not the case for a lot of people. I have Whim shaved about every 4 to 6 months. This means that I go over her coat to comb out any mats about once a week, and I trim the fur out of her eyes on occassion. But other than that, I dont worry about grooming. I bathe her when she's stinky and trim her nails when they get long, which you need to do with every dog. I know @girlhorse keeps Enzo in a much fuller coat. If you want to keep a fuller coat, she might be willing to talk about the grooming experience.

It's also worth noting that due to their small size, combing Whim's fur is like, a 20 minute process.

(I often miss Whim's coat from when I kept her long. She was so unbelievably adorable.)

Havanese are my FAVOURITE dogs to train bar none. I'm not a professional trainer in any sense of the word, but between group classes and my job I have seen how a lot of dogs learn. @thelittlespanielthatcould and I often compare Havs to a CKCS with a little more spunk. They are very clever and very eager to work with you, but when they have an opinion they make it clear.

Whim can be entirely focused on me for an hour long lesson. But she won't do work she's not fairly compensated for. Personally, I like a dog that won't let me push them around. If it's a hot day and I haven't given Whim enough water breaks, she'll march herself over to her bowl whenever she damn well pleases. If I'm not using a high enough value treat, she will take it from my hand and spit it on the ground. I like these things because I like dogs that set their own boundaries. I want my dog to tell me when she is tired or thirsty, when I'm not rewarding enough, when she's frightened. Because I get clear feedback from her on what I'm doing wrong, I can alter my methods very quickly to keep us in sync. I like that my dog can tell me something so clearly and I can say back to her "ok, I'm listening."

Whim does very well in Rally when I can afford the classes. She loved agility. Havanese also make great trick dogs. They have amazing handler focus (once they mature). They love spending time with you, so they love training. You just have to be fair to them. I guess I'd describe them as eager to engage, but not eager to please. She wants to spend time with me, she wants to play my games, but she isn't afraid to stand her ground if she's not having fun. Training her brings me so much fucking joy. Even writing about it now has put a smile on my face.

(Whim and I had so much fun in agility. She loved the tunnels so much she used to go off course just to run them a second or third time. Until I started bringing out the big guns (cheese) and suddenly she was an angel again lol.)

Realistically, no breed is ever going to be ideal for every person on the planet. But 2 words come to mind when I think of Havanese. Fexible: they thrive in many different living situations, energy levels, and activities. And Communicative, about their needs, their desires, their fears, their pain. They make it easy for dog owners to figure out what to do. For these reasons, I think Havanese match well with a lot more people than the average dog breed.

Whim has been my best friend for more than a decade. I have never second-guessed my decision to bring her into my life. I wake up every day knowing that I am profoundly loved. In my brightest moments I picture a future of adventure unfurling before us. In my darkest, her joy reminds me how to find my own.

TL,DR: Get a Havanese.

[arcane-knowledge-archives]

Genshin Impact Kami Scaramouche Alternate Universe

Or GIKSAU for short A short world building post of what it would look like if The Balladeer won

Right so let's talk about Scaramouche. As much as we adore him being Wanderer I feel as though we brush past his godhood far too quickly, I am here to correct that error with an AU.

What if he won? What would he do?

This blog will basically be my interpretation on what could happen, however there are plenty of other timelines that I may briefly mention.

He wouldn't enjoy endless power for long, the Tsaritsa still wants the Archon's Gnosis for whatever reason, and I highly doubt she'd just let him have it. His grace period lasts for a few days at most. He will be in a constant state of anxiety when the Fatui inevitably make their move to take his Gnosis back. On the surface, the Fatui have total control over Sumeru, but underneath that mist of deception is a tense stand-off between Scaramouche and an army. Both sides awaiting for the other's first move.

A fight between Harbingers will come eventually.

Scaramouche needs to plan carefully. Dottore made him, and he can take him apart just as easily.

As much as Scaramouche would adore waging war against the Electro Archon, he must focus on the war currently knocking down his door.

Dwelling on that could take years off of my lifespan so let's move onto something ever so slightly less tense.

As intense as the Fatui can be, it's expected that the people are affected too. Sumeru, known for its colourful culture has taken a bleak turn. The colours are darker, the air crackles with something suffocating, and it's already beginning to become dystopian. Even the forests have gotten darker.

The only "safe" place is the desert. Plenty of people have fled to Aaru Village to escape the wrath of the Fatui. Rations are slimmer, entitlement is at an all time high, and the village is overpopulating.

So many still held out hope for Lesser Lord Kusanali, but that hope was swiftly stomped out during her public execution.

The Sages cannot even celebrate their victory. After discovering their plans to manipulate Scaramouche, the god decided to make an example out of Azar. Not one of the Sages will step a foot out of line now.

The culture would not change overnight, but Inazuman inspired themes would begin popping up in everyday fashion, architecture and cuisine. The mixture of two separate cultures aren't always smooth, but Scaramouche's underlings find a way to make it work.

The city would expand, aristocrats from Snezhnaya finding their new vacation home, or some moving permanently. The higher class would take over the city in no time, and the remaining Sumeru residents must adapt if they wish to stay. Dori has certainly been having a lovely time engaging with more people with her acquired tastes.

The arts have not completely died, but it is more or less preserved for the higher class. Scaramouche could care less, this is more of the doing of the people, it's considered a great honour if he shows up for a performance. Zubayr Theatre has been completely renovated, it's one of the only places without an Inazuman touch to it. Nilou fought tooth and nail to keep it that way.

Nilou is still praised for her stunning performances, but it's always spoken in a condescending manner. Very similar to how obnoxious tourists speak to the residents. The theatre seats are always full, the only reason being so that the aristocrats can claim to be cultured. Poor Nilou being used as an object for someone to brag about. Her passion for dancing has nearly been drained from her, the only time she's happy is when she's dancing with the children of Aaru village.

Don't think I've forgotten about Haypasia. In honour of her being Scaramouche's first follower, she has been appointed as the High Priestess of Sumeru. Her sermons are passionately insane, speaking of sacrificing their mind to their god, purging their own human emotions. Only the extremists seem to appear to the temple regularly.

Soon a new face will arrive some time after, when Scaramouche has asserted his dominance over the nation. You will witness first hand of the unspoken truths of the city.

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 8th February, 1976 - Queen Story!

New York, NY, USA, Beacon Theater

'A Night At The Opera Tour'

🔸Freddie Mercury was taking tea on the 47th floor of his New York hotel. In his suite. The Royal suite, of course. It was the morning after yet another triumph for Queen - that brilliant and highly original British rock band built around the outrageous ideas and stage presence of the exotic Mr.

Mercury. They had played their fourth concert in as many nights at the battered but fashionable Beacon Theatre, and wvith an album and a single in the American charts, they were riding high.

Warm tea was permitted to slide down Mr. Mercury's regal throat as he prodded gingerly at some nasty looking bruises on the side of his neck.

He explained, My very promising pop career nearly came to an untimely end last night. Two young girls outside the theatre decided to claim my scarf as a souvenir. They quite forgot that it was wrapped around my neck at the time, and they very nearly strangled me. I'm sure Her Majesty doesn't have to put up with this sort of thing. But then, she doesn't have anything in the charts at the moment does she?"

He is a wicked man, Mr. Mercury.

He is also everything that a rock idol is supposed to be, and New York has been quick to recognise this. Like Mick Jagger, Freddie has off-beat good looks. Jagger has those pneumatic lips, and Freddie has the most out- spoken set of teeth ever to have found their way on to a pop fan's wall. He also enjoys the lifestyle of a true superstar - he lives out our fantasies for us far more effectively than we could ever manage to do for our- selves. Even if we had his kind of money.

His dress sense is sensational. He seldom looks less than spectacular, and he is not the sort of chap who believes in going unnoticed. Satin is his favourite fabric, with silk coming a close second. And he loves those loose, floppy, Japanese-style jackets.

But as he is quick to point out, There is a quiet side to me too, you know.

My home life is very civilised, and I hardly ever dress up to watch the tele- vision. Unless I am watching a Royal occasion of course. Then, my dear, it's on with the tiara and the emine ..

the LOT!

But Freddie felt there were better things to do in the city of New York than sit around sipping tea and discussing sartorial matters. He in- vited photographer Terry 0ʻNeill and me to join him on a shopping expedition, and it seemed a reason- able idea. Freddie was his casual self in short fur coat, white satin slacks, white clogs and silver snake bracelet.

The problems we encountered were little ones. Like young girls sobbing softly outside the door of a shoe shop while Freddie sought some- thing for the regal feet inside. And then there was the confusion of the young lady in Bloomingdale's depart- ment store who began to give Freddie a free manicure, only to discover that the nails on his left hand were already painted with black lacquer.

Freddie said, I love America. But l cant imagine ever coming here to live.

Our music is successful over here because it is so distinctively English.

We must keep it that way. I have just bought a new house in London, and an enormous car that looks like a boat on wheels. I could never leave all that.

And I have far too much fun ever to worry about a silly little thing like tax.

I know l'm terribly extravagant.

I always have been. My life these days is one perpetual spending spree. So I suppose l am the sort of person who needs to find ways of reducing tax.

But it's all such a bore. Why don't you buy a pair of these beautiful glitter shoes? They 're outrageous. And they 're cheap. And they re much more interesting than tax, don't you think?

I did think so. But I decided against buying the lurid footwear. You have to be a star to wear shoes like that.

Somebody rather like Freddie Mercury, in fact.

[yellowroseswrites]

i almost cried from happiness when I found you

Jonathan Byers with a reader with ADHD and anxiety

But not the crying kind

Nerves are always fried, just stressed

knee bounces

Hands are always doing something, tracing patterns, playing with rings,

Doesn't mind crowds but some people give her random anxiety

Isn't to worried about school, but is worried about Jonathan, anxiety for loved ones

I need him not trying to fix her. Trying to appreciate her for who she is

Here you go :)

"Your string of lights is still bright to me"

Jonathan Byers x Adhd!Anxious!Fem Reader [she/her pronouns used]

{TW/CW}- Talks of adhd, fidgeting, food is mentioned, reader doesn’t eat breakfast bc of executive dysfunction, but jon does have her eat, but the actual action of eating isnt discussed, sweet jonathan byers, I love him your honor, mentions him trying to ‘help’ her but it's not fixing her, reader has issues with body temperature, like she gets hot flashes bc of overthinking and stuff, jon calls reader honey once

{Authors note}- Tbh, i kinda hate this fic, but I love jon and this reader. so please, if you have any specific scenarios or prompts you want to see with them, send me an ask with it. i want to write for them more! GIF creds to the owner, title creds to taylor swift

{Word count}- 1,101. It's a short one today babes

There was no one in this world that you loved more than Jonathan Byers. He meant everything to you. He accepted you for who you were, and that mattered more to you than anything else.

You can remember clearly how it felt when he realized there was something off about you. You can remember how you were certain he would leave you. You remember telling him about your ADHD and being scared that he would think differently of you. You remember describing what it was like to live the way you live, with feeling nervous and fidgety for no apparent reason. You thought you were too much for him, you had too many things wrong with you.

And you can remember the indescribable peace you felt when he held your hands and told you he loved you. Even with your faults, though he would never see them as such. It was all you. He promised himself that he would never let you think less of yourself for things you couldn’t control. 

That’s not to say it was easy, because it wasn’t. It still isn’t. But Jonathan’s effort to help will always have you falling for him all over again. He spends his time watching and noticing, picking up on ways he can help you.

Sometimes it’s small things, one’s that you don’t even pick up on. He’ll buy you new rings and bracelets, ones with beads and charms that you can fidget with. He’ll place rubber pieces to the ends of your pencils for you to chew on to keep your pretty little nails intact. He rubs his hand along your back when bouncing your knee, keeping you calm but never making you stay still. He lets you run your fingers through his hair when you need to do something with your hands. He keeps the temperature cooler when he knows you’re coming over, afraid you’ll overthink and overheat. 

Sometimes it’s bigger things, things that make you feel like a burden. He’ll stay over at your place when you can’t fall asleep, or drive you around until your eyes flutter closed. He’ll leave with you if you get overwhelmed, anytime and anywhere. He always asks you before inviting someone else to hang out with yall, you’re always his first priority. He would shut someone up immediately if they said anything bad about you or the way you were acting.

You had only told a few of your friends. You tended to avoid the subject, you didn’t like the way people would view you differently or the way they would treat you. You didn’t want to hear about how you should ‘take a deep breath’ or ‘just sit still’. Many people just didn’t understand, but Jonathan did.

Today was a particularly bad day. You woke up and the temperature was too hot in your room. When you wake up warm, your day is wrong, that’s how it works. You don’t know why and you always try to get past it, but your bad day usually continues to persist.

You didn’t want to brush your teeth. You weren’t too tired, or too lazy, you just felt like you couldn’t. You saw the toothbrush, and you saw the toothpaste, and you couldn’t. So, you went to your kitchen to grab something for breakfast, maybe something to kickstart your day, but nothing seemed appealing.

Finally, you simply settled in your bed. You laid down and stared at your ceiling while you let your thoughts run freely. You heard the phone ring but you couldn’t get up to get it. You couldn’t do anything but stare and think and run your hands along your blankets. You weren’t aware of how much time had passed before you heard a small knock at your door.

“Come in”

The door creaked slightly and you heard a familiar set of footsteps approach you.

“Bad day sweetheart?” Jonathan asked as he sat down on your bed, weighing down the left side and causing you to roll a little bit.

You laughed as you sat up and motioned for Jonathan to lie down. He laid back against your lap, your hands soon finding their way to his hair. 

“I’m fine.”

Even with his face being upside down for you, you could tell he didn’t believe you. He hummed before he responded,

“You sure? You didn’t answer my call and you didn’t eat breakfast.”

“How do you even know that?”

“When you eat breakfast, you have a snack right after, or chew gum. You have to keep chewing.” He replied casually, as though he didn’t just call out a specific detail a normal person would never take notice of.

It scared you a bit, and yet it didn’t surprise you at all. He always noticed things that you thought people would try to ignore. He never once judged you or tried to ‘save’ you, he only asked how he could help, and sometimes he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You were quiet while you thought, though your hands were still brushing through the boy's hair. You sighed before you spoke, “Don’t you ever get tired of me?”

Jonathan sat up at that and turned to face you, “Why would you think that?” His hands found yours before you could bring your nails to your mouth.

“I just, I don’t know, I’m a very tiring person I guess. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you ever thought I was too much.” It most certainly would hurt your feelings, but you wouldn’t say that.

He took in a breath, you could see in his eyes he was a little hurt.

Of course, you thought, he is tired of me. I gave him an out and he’s going to take it.

“Oh honey,” here it is, “I could never get tired of you.”

Oh

“Nothing you do is ‘too much’. You mean everything to me, I could never think of you like that.”

It’s moments like this that make you wonder how you were so lucky as to have Jonathan in your life. You don’t say anything back, you just allow his words to fill your mind. You take a moment to believe them. Even if you don’t feel that way about yourself, you know he wouldn’t lie to you. 

Jonathan seems to know that that’s all you needed to hear. He also knows he’ll have to tell you again, and again, and again, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll tell you forever if you needed him to.

He stands up and holds out his hand, “Come on, let’s go get something to eat mkay?”

[princelylove]

Ahhh thank you so much for the Jotaro female version, I absolutely love her 😭 the reason I ask you about gender bender characters also because of she has been in my mind rent free for few days now

According to your headcannon, how do you imagine Jotaro in girl form? I love to think she has long hair, I just feel like it fit her, and has big boobs lol. Still has some muscle but not as much as male version. I know you said she won't wear skirt unless Holly make her but I really love to see her in skirt, short skirt is the best, please show off your thigh more Jotaro hdjbdhdjdhjd. About her personality, she not so much different from male version, so I guess she still be the dominant, always on top in the relationship?

And I like your headcannon about she love her darling wearing cutesy clothes (because it's absolutely my style~ it make me remember the lolita fashion style too). I feel like she will start treating darling like a porcelain doll, so fragile and delicate, just need to sit there pretty and let she take care of you, she will buy so many clothes and accessory for you to try on.

P/s: Thank you for accepting my other request too, I thought it was some how violated your rule so you refuse it , glad to know you still working on it ♡

Don’t worry, anon. If I ever refuse a request, I’ll still acknowledge it. 

Warning for nsfw and noncon. 

I don’t think I’ll ever see Jotaro as liking skirts, but she will wear shorts. She’s not opposed to her legs being out, she just thinks of skirts as girlish. She’s not really the type to show off her muscles until she figures out that her darling is into it. While I agree with Jotaro having a big chest, because her masculine version also has a big chest, I don’t think she has less muscle. If anything, she probably has a little more. Her hair is fairly long, mainly because Holly likes to take care of it- during those fifty days, her hair was extremely knotted. She never ties her hair up, and doesn’t really style it, but it’s very healthy. She has no idea why, she just does what her mother tells her to do. Don’t ask. Her nails are also well maintained- short, but well maintained. She isn't really a nail polish kind of person, but lets her mother use clear polish and put on tiny stickers. I tend to think of Jotaro as having an upside down triangle body type, her feminine form likely does too. Her fashion gets a bit tacky when she’s older- you have to be a little tacky if you’re going to wear full snakeskin pants. She has fun with it once she learns that fashion isn’t a giant waste of time- likely discovered when she realizes she can dress up her darling. Jotaro will always be big on dollification, she does like frilly, girly fashion, just not on herself. She loves sitting her darling on her lap while she works from home, even if she can barely see her screen. If it hinders her darling’s mobility, even better. There isn’t a world where Jotaro just suddenly becomes submissive because of her gender, even if she lacks experience, she knows what the end goal is. She’d prefer if you didn’t touch her- she doesn’t really like to focus on herself. Sex, for her, is about touching her darling. All of her fantasies are about touching you, why would she change it up? She loves you, she wants to make you feel good, can't you just sit still and take it?

If you want to think about skirts, Noriaki is more gender conforming. She’s very feminine. Her fashion tends to be rather modest, but not when it comes to skirts. She owns a wide variety of skirt lengths, but will often opt to wear smaller ones when she knows she’ll see you. It’s rare to see her bare legs- Noriaki loves stockings and tights, and will still wear them under her gym uniform. Noriaki abuses the ‘girls are just touchy with each other’ stereotype horribly. She makes direct eye contact with you while getting changed for gym, and keeps talking like she isn’t slowly guiding her darling’s eyes to her underwear. Ohh, this is new, feel it. Isn’t the fabric so nice? You know, we should go shopping together sometime. Noriaki loves to put her legs on top of her darling, masked as platonic affection. She's certainly aware of her own strong points. She’s not the submissive type either, but she’s significantly happier than Jotaro is to bottom. Hierophant Green holds her darling down as she prepares them- if you cannot penetrate her, she’ll just put a strap-on on you, and pretend it’s real. She normally prepares herself, but it’d be so sweet if you could do that for her. Never mind the fact that she’s puppeting you, it's good enough for her. Noriaki tends to take care of herself- her hair isn't the longest, it likely stops just below her shoulders, but it's gorgeous. She uses products to keep her waves in place, and even sprays a little bit of her perfume in it. She's hoping you think of her every time you smell it. Noriaki tends to wear nude or pink nail polish, she has a whole routine to keep her hands smooth and soft. She has a smaller chest, or possibly an average one, and loves to wear lingerie. Extremely funny to talk about this after Jotaro, who I see as a sports bra and boyshorts kind of girl.

[unsettlingcreature]

The docks were always so busy in the wake of the summits, all manner of people bidding their goodbyes to Anvil and their friends from other nations until the next season came to an end. Zorion had been no different, pulling their sister into a bone-crushing hug before she went back to Urizen, while various other family members darted to and fro on the ship in preparation for their own departure towards Feroz. Zorion happily left them to it; it wasn't as if they'd be much help, much preferring to leave it to the experts. In the meantime, they scoured the docks for any last-minute purchases, flagging down traders and gleefully claiming their remaining wares for themselves. Eventually, a voice called out to them from aboard the ship and they sighed as they realised that officially, the summit had properly come to an end. They wove their way between the crowds, a firm hand on the bag that sagged at their hip and clinked with every step.

As per usual, they were the last aboard the ship while their husband was nowhere to be seen. With a huff, they immediately strode towards the captain's quarters, flinging the door open to find him sat in his chair, boots up on the desk and his tagelmust loose and draped over his face. He didn't even stir as the door banged against the wall besides a quiet grunt and Zorion carefully set their bag on the floor before heading over, shoving Calcifer's feet aside so they could perch there instead. A gloved hand came up to pull the fabric away, revealing a scowl that quickly melted away into a smile.

"Hello, my love," he said, sitting up straight and propping his elbows on the desk as he looked up at them with hooded eyes. "Is there a reason you're interrupting my nap?"

"I can let you get back to sleep," Zorion offered, a hand reaching up to run a hand through Calcifer's dark hair. They watched his eyelids drift shut, his head leaning into the touch. "I'll just keep what's in my bag all to myself. What a shame!"

That got his attention, his lips stretching into a grin. "Intriguing. What have you got?"

Rather than evading as they usually would, Zorion slid off the desk and retrieved one bottle of many from their bag. Calcifer whistled appreciatively as they set the bottle of whiskey in front of them with a triumphant smirk. "Is that...?"

"Yep." They tapped a red-painted nail against the glass. "The good shit from Varushka. I nabbed it off of a troubadour headed east. I don't think she knew that what she had in her hands was liquid gold."

"Her loss," Calcifer said, reaching for the bottle only to have Zorion slide it out of his reach. He rolled his eyes, used to their song and dance. "So what do you want in exchange for it?"

Zorion hemmed and hawed for a few moments, pretending to mull it over. Calcifer crept an arm around their waist, pressing his face into their side.

"I'd be willing to let you have the bottle," they said eventually. "For just one hundred thrones. A very reasonable price, I think."

Calcifer nearly choked at the price, despite the fact that he knew it was just his partner playing about. Instead, he pulled back and huffed a dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately, I'm a couple dozen thrones short. Can't you give me a discount?"

"A discount?" Zorion echoed, putting on the perfect air of offence. "The audacity! Are you sure I didn't secretly marry one of the Grendel?" They prodded at his cheek, grinning when he gently batted their hand away. "Well, I certainly won't part with the bottle for any less than that but I suppose I could negotiate for a quick taste."

"So generous," he drawled, setting his chin on their lap. "What's the price of this taste?"

"A kiss!"

The answer came immediately upon the heel of his question, accompanied by a smug grin. Keeping an arm around their waist, Calcifer pulled himself to his feet, the two of them on eye level with how Zorion sat on his desk. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against their lips. One of Zorion's arms snaked up his shoulder and to the back of his neck, holding him close while their other hand deftly unscrewed the bottle and lifted the whiskey to their mouth. They took a quick swig before leaning back towards Calcifer, going for a far less chaste kiss as their tongue slipped past his lips. He hummed appreciatively, both at the affection and the sweet yet heady taste of the honey whiskey. Before the kiss could deepen any further, Zorion pulled away.

"I've got more kisses up for trade," he murmured, skimming his nose against their cheek.

He turned his face for a third kiss, only to find the bottle pressed to his lips as the two made eye contact. He used his free hand to cradle the bottom of the bottle, tilting it enough to allow him to take a sip of his own. Unlike Zorion, he didn't pull away from the kiss once the sweetness faded from his tongue, his arm pulling them closer towards him until their bodies were flush against one another. For a time, the whiskey went forgotten until they parted, a self-satisfied smirk painting Zorion's expression.

"Happy?" Calcifer asked, receiving a nod in response. He pressed a kiss to their cheek before leaning back. "So, do I actually get to have a normal drink or is this going to be our whole evening?"

Zorion barked a laugh, bumping their foreheads together. "It depends how lucky you are, I guess."

[brawltogethernow]

Scissors and heart for the fic ask meme for the one where J Jonah Jameson Goes Off about mutant rights

^^

drop the title of a fic i wrote + a symbol in my ask and i’ll tell you…

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

I am SO dedicated to mulching and reusing absolutely everything I possibly can from my first drafts I wasn't sure I had anything for this, but I did cut like 25 words and I will now write 500 about why. I cut an extension of the joke where Betty's asked why she's happy their boss is screaming with rage because Jonah would have to kick the assholes out offscreen for it to work, and they'd skip straight to article planning without a confrontation. Like:

“…Why is that a good thing, Miss Brant.” Betty smiled up at him so her eyes squinched. “He isn’t mad at us!” "WHERE ARE MY CRACK TEAM OF PROFESSIONALS?" Betty beamed. "See?"

That's much weaker scene arrangement obviously so I wasn't able to work the whole of the planned gag in.

Also culled in favor of the bit where Jonah remixes his memetic line and demands PICTURES! PICTURES OF X-MEN! was a variant that goes like "PARKER / Yessir / GET ME YOUR BEST MUTANT PHOTOS / Yessir- What, sir?" which is kind of Vimesian in a way I enjoy, but the core point of "it's weird to hear Jonah demanding a different thing in this specific way" isn't really clear unless you do the full iconic line, which is too long to have a yes sir-what sir joke around it. Like it has to be something short enough you can zone out through it and then replay it in your head an instant later, and the PICTURES line has a big pause in the middle. ...You can put the first yes sir in the pause, but then the whole thing still has to go early enough that it's plausible to have not guessed what Jonah is going to ask for.... So instead it got a lampshade where the Bugle staff get to lean on the fourth wall slightly harder.

There's also a bit, assassinated for being too implausible, where someone asks Peter "Isn't that Cyclops' name?" when he's texting contact name Scotty Boy and he goes "NO." I hate him.

Also not making it out of the starter notes was I'm pretty sure the first words I jotted down when I got the ask - I thought the snip at the end where MJ makes fun of Peter might be like, a more ongoing montage of post-publishing reactions? So on autopilot I hypothesized a fragment of spideytorch banter wherein Peter shows Johnny the article, Johnny goes "What is this?" and Peter says "It's a newspaper. They're very useful once you learn how to read." And then Johnny throws the paper at his face. This was written because it's closer to my wheelhouse than the actual premise and deleted because it contributes absolutely nothing. There is no reason for more people that many degrees of separation away from the core concept of the prompt to be there.

Generally if I have come up with a tangent with any redeeming value that isn't actively contradicted by something more important I will add it in, but this fic came with a point it actually mattered to lose track of, which directly contributed to it being, in my opinion, noticeably higher quality than my average output - less meandering and simultaneously longer. A lot of the writing process on the Jonah fic was me going "can I stop now?", mentally substituting in some real world minority in place of mutants, and then if the result made me want to go lean over the washing machine and slam the door repeatedly on my own head, that meant it wasn't done. Who Knew Being Forced (at prompt point) To Stand For Something Improves Your Work.

♡: my favorite part

I think I nailed keeping the pacing up by cutting between interconnected scenes, if that counts. I really like how the flow of the first bit reads, and it was really satisfying to put together. It was also just a lot of fun to juggle a modern-flavored conflict and my preferred vintage comic aesthetic and cast, and to sneak in a bunch of continuity nods and cameos and tidbits of concepts. I just had a blast writing and publishing the whole thing, honestly. It was a great ask, and I'm really glad people like it.

The fic.

[comfy-whumpee]

Forever After

CN: recovery from spousal/child abuse. Jax’s story is a collaboration with @ashintheairlikesnow.

Jax’s taglist: @bloodybrambles​, @wildfaewhump​, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump​, @that-one-thespian​, @raigash​, @burtlederp​, @rosesareviolentlyread​, @eatyourdamnpears​ -

In the middle of the night, curled around her in the dark, he tells her favourite story.

“I didn’t have to be secret anymore, so I told the people at court about us. It took weeks because I had so much to tell. You and Jamie went to the park or ate ice cream, and I talked and talked.”

She is always small, even when she finally starts to grow how a young girl should. Her face tucks perfectly into the hollow of his shoulder, and she always knows to lean into the side that hurts less, so he can wrap his arm around her.

“After I told them everything I could remember, and so did Aunt Hannah, and Uncle Stewart, and even Grandpa, they went away for a long time. They went away and thought very hard, because they had a big decision to make.”

She breathes slowly against him, little breaths, warmth gusting through his shirt in time with the swell and shrink of her chest.

“They didn’t have to decide if she did it. Everyone knew she did. Nobody ever said I was lying about that.”

Not the second time, anyway, he reminds himself. This story, he can only tell because he knows the ending. Years ago, he had to tell a different one, that wasn’t so neat.

“They had to decide,” he reorients himself, “what to do to make us safe from her. And they decided to take away her money, and give it to us. They decided to put her into prison, so she couldn’t come and find us. And they decided she would never, ever be allowed out of prison, or even write to us or talk to us ever again.”

She gives a tiny shudder this time, the air stuttering against him. He strokes her back as he has always done. He doesn’t rub with a heavy hand with long nails and hard jewellery. He strokes, firm and sure.

“She does not know,” he promises, her favourite mantra, “that we are living here with Kieran. She does not know that I love him. She does not know that you have short hair and you wear jeans. She does not know about chips and beans for dinner.”

He tries to keep them small things, to help her focus on them. She’s still too young to fit the bigger things in her. She can only look at them, a little at a time, with help.

“Even if she did know,” he continues. This is his favourite part. “Even if she knew about everything we do, nothing would happen. Even if she was angry, she couldn’t do anything. Even if she wanted to put us in time out, or discipline, she can’t. She can never, ever do that again.”

This exhalation is deeper. His poor, poor girl. He tips his head down to kiss the short, fuzzy hairs at the back of her head, never again long enough to sit heavily on her, in the way they can’t stand.

“So the very brave little girl, and her baby brother, and her daddy went to live in England,” he says, forgetting how he was telling the story before she sighed and filled his head with love. “And she never got to be a princess, but she did get light-up trainers, and she could go outside and play whenever she wanted. Sometimes the evil witch tried to curse her and her daddy, but she didn’t have any power anymore. Her magic was all gone.”

His shoulder, even though it’s the better one, aches from stroking her back. In the morning, it’ll be tender enough that he’ll have to endure a massage. But he’ll keep going, as long as she needs him to. He has ignored so many worse pains, for worse reasons.

“And the family lived happily forever after without her.”

[littlesparklight]

Poured of Gold? Ἑλένης Ἀπαίτησις? Part of me just wants to ask about all of them.

Hehe I can mention two others at least briefly in connection with the Apaitesis fic! ;)

Anyway, Poured of Gold is my Perseus fic (though it'd start with Danae finding out about the prophecy, so it's more of a leadup than just her meeting with Zeus as it currently stands). I haven't added anything to it in a bit, but every time I've gotten pissed off enough at some shitty Perseus take I've had to see, I've written a little more on it. Have a snippet from the end:

Hermes and Zeus stood shoulder to upper arm as they watched the the procession carry the old king of Mycenae and Tiryns into his tomb, and though they were surrounded by a crowd, they could just as well have been alone.

"If you had asked for it, I would have granted him immortality," Zeus said, voice so quiet it couldn't have been heard by a mortal even if they should've stood right next to the two gods. Not for himself, as much as he'd loved his son, shining and perfect among mortal men, but for Hermes and his love of the man, Zeus would have.

Hermes laughed, a short bark of a noise that cracked in the air. Zeus reached out and gripped his son by the back of his head, pulling him in a little closer to himself.

"I thought about asking. Many times. It never… I never got around to it," Hermes said, staring with hollow eyes at the fire, his lips still pulled in a smile that wasn't so much desperate as pained in the baring of his teeth.

Apollo might be unable to settle, but it wasn't for a lack or fear of commitment. Hermes, however, was unable to settle exactly for such a fear, flittering around his lovers, divine and mortal alike, as a bee does visit flowers, heavy with pollen and nectar but never returning to one it'd already visited.

"I'm going to ask my dear uncle for him to be sent back at some point, though. Not yet, he deserves a bit of rest, but at some point. What do you think?"

Ἑλένης Ἀπαίτησις is my current WIP! It won't be a longfic like my other ones, but it'll be... maybe somewhere between 20-30k I think. We'll see. It's the sequel to The Sea to Carry Us, touching specifically on the time around the Achaeans landing at Troy and the embassy to request Helen back.

The title is in Greek because I stumbled over this definition of "apaitesis" while reading an article: "If on the one hand you are willing, I request; while if you are not willing, I demand back." (Andokides, second oration.) Which would be hard to encompass easily in English, so I'm keeping the Greek. (The Long Years is the sequel to THAT, whenever I get to it. Basically it'd be "the rest of the Cypria" and the nine years up to the Iliad. The Journey There would be the part of Paris' journey to Sparta that I skipped in This Pleased the Heart of Aphrodite, featuring his visit to Salamis and his short stay with the Dioskouroi.)

Snippet!

Kassandra shook her head. No, he wouldn't abandon Troy. Glancing over her shoulder, out the window which didn't actually show the plain out across the Skamander and even less at the right angle to see south towards Tenedos, she stopped pacing. Worried her fingers, rubbing the rings and her nails.

Why stop and attack Tenedos, so close to Troy? The Achaeans attacking Teuthrania had been understandable - the gods had clearly been involved, turning heads and reason to make the Achaeans miss where Troy was, and then to continue so far past it until they thought they'd found the right city. But Tenedos? It might be under her father's authority, but it certainly wasn't Troy. That must be obvious.

So why? What would happen now? How quickly would Troy fall?

Shivering, Kassandra hugged herself. Why assume Troy would fall? There were walls, thicker than any man-made wall could ever dream to be, built more finely than any mortal hands could ever produce, around Troy. And if at least some of the gods had protected them four years ago, misleading the Achaeans once, why wouldn't they now still be?

She just hated not knowing.

(This is about Kassandra, you say? Indeed it does start with Kassandra. :) For Reasons.)

[winksasleeplesseye]

Angel of Darkness - Chapter Preview

I haven’t forgotten AoD! I do have the next chapter almost ready to post but for now I’ll provide a chapter preview with just a bit of the beginning! I’ll keep it short but the rest will be up tomorrow!

Reunio

1999

The wallpaper was a bit dated, gaudy for sure. All of it in its 70s glory. The floral green upholstered couches and almost painful salmon pink of the accents and decor made Amara’s eyes hurt.

Paired with the two suits currently occupying the couches. They looked just about excited as postmen at Christmas. Only here out of obligation to the young girl temporarily staying here. It’d been a tough first year, reestablishing normalcy to a girl who’d had less than a normal life proved to be far more difficult than expected. Another reason they’d called her here, beyond their allotted visits.

The older woman, Mrs. Hoffman, was sweet but one could tell she ran her home with a tad bit of an iron fist. If it wasn’t already clear, this woman was strict to Sherry.

Treating her as though what laid inside her could be fixed.

Stupid. Fucked up, really.

They’d become two of a kind. Amara knew what it was like to be uprooted quite often, never quite having stability to really put much stock into making friends, sure, she’d try but never quite knowing when they’d be off to the next place made it hard to keep in touch.

Sherry had been in limbo, both Amara and Claire argued that this much moving around didn’t do much for her.

Amara leaned against the doorframe, Sherry not yet made aware of her being there as she rummaged through a storage container of cassette tapes. Even from her sitting position on the floor, Amara could tell she’d hit a bit of a growth spurt in her absence.

The soft melody of an older song played in the cassette player as Sherry clicked it on. The Jackson Five.

Hmm, she was impressed that Sherry even knew them.

The song was Got to Be There. Huh, how fitting.

“Aren’t you a little young to be listening to such old songs?” Amara makes her presence known, the smile Sherry wore is enough to make her have one in return.

Pushing herself off the ground, she practically jumped into her arms. “Amara!”

“Sherbear! Careful now, my ribs are still bruised from the last hug you gave me,” she jested, ruffling her hair. “How’s Hoffman treating you?”

“Like a fucking dictator.” There’s a particular heavy emphasis on the curse word. It was definitely new to her.

“Hey, watch that language.”

“Sorry. It’s just—“

“Yeah, I know.”

They wanted her here to quell Sherry’s frustrations with going from place to place. One could say she was essentially in the system. Considering how this country operated, no one wanted to be there but Sherry had a strange predicament to start. The cards didn’t really line up in any of their favors.

Unfortunately, soon enough, she’d be under the care of Derek C. Simmons.

It was the last option the government had. Amara had fought tooth and nail with the decision but there wasn’t much leverage on her part. Couldn’t exactly go against her own deal, really.

That man in question had something about him that made her stomach turn. He was like Irons 2.0, a general creepy vibe radiated from him that she didn’t like. He seemed the last person qualified to truly care for Sherry.

“When am I gonna get to stay with you?” She has a puppy dog look in her eyes. “I’ve never been more bored in my life.”

“Sorry kiddo, but I still have no idea,” Amara answered honestly, shoving a hand into her pocket. She didn’t want to crush the girl’s hopes. Wait. She almost forgot. “Sheesh, Sherry, your keychain!”

“Where from this time?”

Sherry had developed a strange knack for collecting keychains much like a mother collecting mugs from her kids in their many travel adventures. Amara thought it sweet and just about the funnest thing to pick up on her missions, the others assigned with her would make fun that she’d take the time to stop into the most touristy places just for a “silly” keychain but to see Sherry’s eyes light up as she looked over the fun designs made it worth it.

“Italy, can’t you tell by the moped?” Amara pointed out the cartoon, an over-exaggerated man speeding away on his blue Vespa and the damn near kismet colors of brown cobblestone streets against a teal-blue skyline on it made it one of the more artistic keychains she’d picked out for the girl.

Sherry, a little too perceptive for her own good, seemed to notice Amara’s overall demeanor underneath the smile she wore.

“I’m not staying here much longer, am I?”

“You know, in another life, I’d like to think you’d be a detective the way you pick up on so much,” Amara sighed with a sad smile, going down to eye level with the girl.

“When?”

Her head hanged low, she can’t say it…not directly anyway, not while seeing the sadness that would spring to the girl’s eyes.

“Next week. With Simmons.”

Amara inevitably looked on the bright side. Having someone as “important” as Simmons as her guardian guaranteed that no perceived threats could get close to the girl. The only threat that she could think of was Wesker (only second to the very government themselves). After the mansion incident and RC, Wesker’s body had never been recovered so that formed the only logical conclusion to come to that he still walked among the living.

“He gives me the creeps,” Sherry fiddled with a loose hem on her t-shirt, “a lot of creeps.”

“I won’t fight you on that, kiddo. But, he’s just about the safest option for you now and you know Claire and me fought hard on that choice.” Amara explained. “There’s a quote I heard once that went a bit like this…in any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.”

“This feels like the wrong thing.” Her voice is small.

“It’s better than nothing, right?” Amara noted. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to just up and leave and never see you again. You’ll always have me, we are two of a kind after all.”