#hope she'll appear more :)

[feddy-34]

jill stein is pro-israel.... LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, the Baroness causes conflict with the Commander.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,626. Rating: all audiences. Warnings: discussion of war and grief, death mentions.)

Chapter 35: Baroness Touledy's Strategy (Reprise)

Soldiers pushed and parted as a woman, armed and armoured, marched through their training grounds. The Baroness Touledy held her cane in one hand, and her sword��sharp—in the other.

The girls had done their best. Tried playing with the man. But he was more accustomed to the Game than he pretended not to be. And that made what the Commander had done to them all the more disgusting.

He knew what he was doing when he used Lady Trevelyan. He knew what he was doing when he invited Lady Erridge’s friend. And he knew what he was doing when he promised Samient help.

Every part of it, done for his benefit.

No fucking more.

“Commander,” said a lieutenant in warning, eyes widening as she saw the Baroness approach. The Commander, beside her, turned.

“Baroness,” he greeted, bowing.

“Good morning, Commander,” Touledy replied. She flourished her sword, blade glinting in the sunlight. “I thought I might invite you to spar. Since we did not quite have chance on my previous visit.”

The last two words were said with a venom—yet the Commander appeared immune. He handed off his mantle to the lieutenant. “Very well.”

The Baroness smiled. This was the beauty of her plan—for whether he accepted or refused, she would achieve her goal.

That goal was very simple. It was one laid out by Lady Trevelyan herself. The other Ladies had not been there, that day, when her Ladyship had pointed out the Commander’s weakness. That was why they had made the mistake of confronting him privately. But if they wanted to best him, they needed a crowd.

Public humiliation required it.

A space was quickly cleared for the conflict to come; eagerly, too. Soldiers gathered ‘round, whispering and waiting—but were sent away again by the lieutenant. Back to training! Sidelong glances would have to do.

The Baroness welcomed them. She circled into position, facing the Commander. Her greaves ground into the dirt, finding purchase. One hand rested on her cane, the other brandished her blade. She was a mesmerizing sight, and she knew it.

The Commander, less so. His sword had been unsheathed in a draw that was typical of him. No flash, no flair. All seriousness. All bore. A helm was offered to him by a solider, but subsequently rejected. He took his stance opposite the Baroness, and raised his sword.

Hers met it—slowly, in acknowledgment. A look of understanding passed between them. Their swords withdrew.

And then, they clashed.

Touledy’s blade sailed into the Commander’s, clanging with the force of the hit. He, stalwart, withstood the blow. The ricochet of his blade was used to his advantage, momentum carried into a downward swing.

The Baroness blocked it. She jabbed for his side. The Commander jolted away. Nearby soldiers gasped at the close call.

Stalemate reached, the fighting paused. Each backed off, to readjust. Stances changed, blades twirled. Premeditated unpredictability.

“I have heard what you have done for my fellow Ladies, Commander,” the Baroness muttered, taking a step forward.

He watched her feet. “Mm?”

“I wished to give you my thanks in person—and to query why. What could have affected this change of heart, given your earlier purpose in bringing us here?”

“It was the right thing to do.”

He lunged for her, blade swiping down toward her shoulder. The Baroness’ sword shot across, and batted it away. He was left open; she capitalised.

“So you acknowledge that your previous intentions were wrong?” she accused, stabbing towards his gut.

The Commander sidestepped it. “Freely.”

“Interesting. Then one wonders why you had them in the first place?”

“I misled myself.”

Touledy laughed, spinning her blade. “And how exactly does one mislead oneself?”

“We all are prone to suffering a lack of good judgement, on occasion,” said the Commander, “though I take it yours is infallible.”

“Hardly. Though it is devastatingly precise, when required.”

As if to prove it, she pounced, a lancing blow slipping past his attempt at defence, and striking against his armoured side.

“Hit,” he said. They withdrew, to begin again.

The Baroness prepared her stance. “I would say our dear Lady Trevelyan suffered a lack of good judgement, in trusting you, perhaps.”

The Commander’s grip tightened around his blade. “Perhaps.”

“Though I am sure you never intended to hurt our dear Lady.”

The Baroness shot forth, sudden like a spider, striking at his stomach. He smacked it away.

“I never intended to hurt anyone.”

“That seems at odds with your methods.” She swung again. Their swords met, in a series of blows. Through them, the Baroness grunted: “You wished to do harm to us without doing any harm?”

The Commander did not falter with her question. He kept up the onslaught, until an opportunity presented itself. He came up on her left; she defended right. His blade struck the very edge of her chestplate.

“Like I said,” he told her, “my judgement was poor.”

“Hit,” she muttered.

They reset.

“Is that poor judgement the reason you failed to, at any point, tell Lady Trevelyan why she was truly here?” The Baroness raised her sword. “Before you knew such knowledge would break her heart?”

The Commander’s face changed, but he did not respond. Touledy strode forward.

“How long did you intend to keep the truth from her?” She thrust her sword at his abdomen; he stumbled back. “How long would you have lied?”

He tried to counter, but the Baroness slammed his blade to the side.

“Did you consider her feelings!? Or were yours the centre of your concern?”

She sent a cleaving blow sailing towards his shoulder. He deflected it with the back of his blade.

“Do you seek our favour to win back her affection? Do you only do for others that which benefits you!?”

Another strike; denied, again. The Commander readied to defend, and stared her down.

“Baroness Touledy,” he said, “how many mages are in Val Misrenne?”

Touledy froze. “What?”

The Commander lunged, twisting his sword around hers, and wrenching it from her grasp. The tip of his own he raised to her neck, and held her there.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

“The Red Templars seem to believe you possess a small army.”

The Baroness clenched her fist, and backed away. The Commander lowered his sword. She watched as he bent down, to collect hers, and offered it to her.

She took it, but sheathed it.

“You know the business of Red Templars?” she asked.

The Commander nodded. “Of course. The safety of the Inquisition and the people of Thedas depends on it.”

“I see. I have no idea to what you refer. If you are aware of the Red Templars’ attack on Val Misrenne, then you know it to be a senseless act of violence.”

The Commander holstered his blade, and stepped closer. “I do. But that does not negate the fact that they attack for what they believe to be some kind of reason.” He regarded her with a gaze that she did not allow to intimidate her. “I cannot believe it would be more than ten.”

Touledy sighed. She had a feeling, one way or another, whatever she told him, that he would uncover the truth regardless. And so, instead, she simply told him the truth:

“Six,” she confessed. “There are six.”

The Commander acknowledged this, and glanced at their surroundings. Though quiet enough for their speech to be naught more than mumbles to his soldiers, he gestured for the Baroness to walk with him, away. She drew her cane up from the earth, and walked.

“They arrived some time after the Circles fell. A group of eight,” she explained, as they gained some distance from the training grounds, “though one left to find home, and another passed of old age. They were led by a young woman, who knew my brother—he was a Templar at her Circle.”

“Your brother?”

“Ser Ouen Touledy. She was a but a child when he met her, and very reminiscent of his beloved baby sister. He protected her, like an elder brother would. So much so that, when it came to her Harrowing, he refused the killing blow.”

The Commander glanced at his feet, knowing perfectly well what that meant. “Ah.”

“She survived the Harrowing. Yet, as you can imagine, Ouen was discharged for what he did, and passed at our home, from lyrium withdrawal.”

“I am sorry,” murmured the Commander. “That should never have happened.”

“It is done, and cannot be helped,” Touledy lamented. “But she could be. She arrived at my door, with her little group, to see my brother, and thank him for what he had done. She did not know he was gone.”

Touledy thought of that moment. It had been an ordinary day, despite all that was happening beyond the confines of their town. Then, strange visitors had arrived, her staff told her. But they knew Ouen, so Touledy had to see them.

When she entered the parlour, her world changed. She saw the face her brother had died for, and understood. The Baroness could have believed she was staring into a mirror, held up from the not so distant past.

The girl was so kind, and so sweet, and so grateful. Oh, how she had cried when Touledy had told her.

“I know this is nothing, compared to your pain,” she’d wept, “but he was as if a brother to me. I cannot remember the family I had before. He was the closest I had.”

The Baroness took her hand, in that moment. And she told her, “Then we are sisters.”

She closed her eyes now, to stop the tears of that day from falling anew. “Thallia, is her name,” Touledy told the Commander. “She wanted to repay the debt she saw herself as owing my brother, and volunteered to stay in Val Misrenne, as a healer. I said she owed nothing—but she was welcome to stay, they all were. She is the last I have of Ouen; to turn her away would be to dishonour his memory and sacrifice.”

“I understand,” said the Commander. A gentle tip of his head, and he kept them on a steady path. “People have fought for less.”

“Much less,” agreed Touledy. “She has delivered babies, healed the sick and injured. One of her compatriots is an ‘erbalist, who discovered a source of disease within our crops and eradicated it. When the Breach opened, a rift formed in Val Misrenne. With the last of my brother’s lyrium, they were able to seal it. If not for them—I cannot imagine…”

The mages had been celebrated, after that rift. Those who were cautious before were finally convinced. Parties were held across the town. No demons allowed in Val Misrenne!

Until the Red Templars arrived.

“It was a small band who first came,” Touledy explained. “They knew of my dislike of the Chantry, and thought perhaps we might ally against our common enemy. They wanted supplies, safe shelter if need be, and access to other nobility.”

The Baroness’ reply was predictably derisive.

“One of them was from my brother’s Circle. Tried to claim some kind of friendship, with him.” The Baroness chuckled. “Unlikely. But—he saw Thallia. He recognised her. He whispered to his fellows, and they left.”

“And then they staged their first attack?” asked the Commander.

“Yes,” Touledy confirmed. “They wanted the mages. Val Misrenne refused to capitulate.”

“I cannot imagine they liked their defeat.”

Touledy smiled. What a bittersweet victory it had been. “No. I do not know if they return simply to punish, or if they truly believe that, because we fought so hard to defend our people, that there must be something grander and more insidious going on. I think I do not care either way.”

The Commander sighed. “I doubt they do either.”

They neared a low wall, and the Baroness announced a sense of fatigue. The Commander rerouted, so that she might take a seat.

She rested her cane against the stone. “I will not bore you with details of the siege, as I assume that, if you have done your job correctly, you are already well aware of them. However, I can tell you that the mages plan to do the unthinkable.”

“What?”

“They wish to hand themselves over.”

The Commander shook his head. “The Red Templars will continue their attack regardless.”

“I know. I have tried to persuade them, but as the situation worsens, they become harder to convince.” She bowed her head. “I had wished to stay here, waiting for Lady Trevelyan… but Val Misrenne needs me. I must return.”

“And what of my troops?” the Commander asked.

The Baroness raised her head. “What of your troops?”

“I have a force arriving to the west of Val Misrenne.” He folded his hands behind his back, spine straight, shoulders squared—silhouetted by the rising sun. “They wait on your command.”

“What?”

“I had thought you would ask earlier, but I understand your hesitation—the association of the Inquisition with the Chantry is not ideal for Val Misrenne,” he went on, “but the Ambassador is seeing to it that the clerics hoping to leverage this situation are kept subdued, for now.”

Touledy stared up at him, bewildered—as bewildered as she imagined the other Ladies had been, in their encounters. “Your troops cannot be sizeable, if the Red Templars have not discovered them?”

“They are a discreet party, returning from the Western Approach.”

She shook her head. “Such a small force will do nothing but delay the inevitable.”

“As I have told you before, Inquisition troops know how to defeat a Red Templar.”

She insisted: “And as I have told you, they are not to be trifled with. Even trained soldiers struggle against their numbers.”

The Commander smiled. “The Inquisitor has proven quite capable of dealing with greater numbers than this before.”

The Baroness repeated his words, if only to ensure she had heard them correctly: “The Inquisitor?”

“The Inquisitor’s party happens to be travelling that way,” the Commander muttered, ridiculously coy, “and would be glad of a diversion, should Val Misrenne open its doors.”

Touledy rose, steadying herself upon her cane. “I cannot put the Inquisitor in danger.”

“The Inquisitor is always in danger.”

The Baroness shook her head—but not to refuse. She could never refuse. It was that she knew the betrayal she committed against Lady Trevelyan by accepting. But Lady Trevelyan would simply have to understand. She had no choice but to accept.

“Do it,” she told the Commander. “Please.”

“I’ll send word now,” he said, already turning to go—but Touledy called out to him:

“Wait!”

He stopped, and waited. She came to face him.

“Commander, while I am thankful for this, whatever the outcome; while I am thankful for what you have done for all the Ladies—this will not heal the rift between yourself and Lady Trevelyan.”

The Commander avoided her gaze, yet nodded.

“Lady Trevelyan claims insult on our behalf, yet the greatest injury this has caused is hers, and hers alone. She has never had a home, Commander. Never known that comfort, nor safety. Her parents do not want her, it seems, and the only other place she belonged to is destroyed.” Touledy sighed. “She believed she had found home, here. You have shattered that illusion.”

In mournful tones, he replied: “I know.”

“Then you know what you must do.”

“I do. I will try.”

The Baroness straightened, her usual composure finally returned. “I would wish you luck,” she said, “but, despite our conversation, I do not wish you to succeed.”

“Fair,” said the Commander.

“Let me know, as soon as you know anything.”

The Commander stepped away. “I will.”

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family

[mangywayway]

I accidentally broke mom's blender that was straight up from the '80s (well, not exactly but I broke 2 parts).

Luckily I found a replacement for the biggest component at 30€ but I'm still afraid as fuck (I also need to hope I got the right one and not a wrong size)

If you never hear of me again, you probably know why

[meganechan05]

The more I think about the possibility of Rita having a Haircut Arc, the more I kinda just wanna see them try to style it...

Or at least Himeno seeing the new cut, process it overnight, and then kick down Rita's office door with a bag of hairstyling tools and not taking no for an answer.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I know Mai is sort of like the typical "kind of a bitch" female character that often has a lot of sexist tropes playing around, but for some reason... I actually like her?

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.

username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES

↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN

username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?

↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced

username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!

username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all

↳username5 But they were never official

username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'

username6 my fav nepo baby <3

username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol

username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando

username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?

↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao

username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?

username10 He's rich? Lol

username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants

username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good

↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now

username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started

username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?

↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done

username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not

username5 Then why don't they make it official?

username6 that's not a question i can answer

username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait

↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait

username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life

↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

y/n's texts with Lando

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

username1 All men are the same I swear

↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando

username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you

username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK

↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭

username5 Do we know who the girl is?

↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time

username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman

username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)

username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship

username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(

↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool

↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect

username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again

↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better

username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?

↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby

username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes

↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass

username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire

yn_wolff posted on instastory

landonorris replied to your story:

↳mind if i join?

yn_wolff:

yeah lol don't join

landonorris:

i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?

hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?

yn_wolff:

with dad and susie

stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today

landonorris:

I see another man

who is he?

*seen*

y/n answer me who is he

is that russell?

fucking russell wtf is he doing there

he better keep his hands away from you

what the fuck why are u hugging him

yn_wolff:

i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit

landonorris:

what the fuck do you mean y/n

yn_wolff:

don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her

landonorris:

she's just a friend

y/n you're mine

she doesn't mean shit to me

don't show my texts to russell

yn_wolff:

Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto

landonorris:

girlfriend?

username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday

↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning

username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨

↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for

username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...

↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂

username4 What did he post?

username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story

username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao

username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up

username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"

username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George

landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀

view all comments

username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂

↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?

username3 get over it, it's your fault

username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀

↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George

username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭

↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls

username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?

username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted

username5 He immediately regretted hahah

username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?

username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty

↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy

username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"

username10 Very accurate lmao

username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it

username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that

username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law

↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually

username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes

username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn

username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao

username6 I love George for saving Y/n

username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match

username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU

username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George

username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded

↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option

username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that

↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us

username13 This is my old money dream

username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day

↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us

yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time

view all comments

username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry

lewishamilton Invite me next time!

↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!

↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf

username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that

username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL

↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!

username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it

↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando

username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol

susie_wolff 💝

↳yn_wolff 🩷

ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊

↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️

↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔

yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!

georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum

lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚

↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕

lilymhe Might as well be 😂

username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao

alex_albon Finally, no more secrets

↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?

username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂

username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...

username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person

charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂

↳yn_wolff Charles 💀

username5 Is he wrong tho

username7 I laughed harder than I should've

↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions

username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil

username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him

username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho

landonorris 👍

↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me

↳username4 THE AUDACITY

landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts

↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting

↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂

username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅

username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr

username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??

username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS

username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official

↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao

username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?

↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt

username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him

username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it

username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him

username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀

↳username1 Totally

↳username2 I can imagine it

↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)

username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂

username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him

↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

[1alchemistart]

some more doodles based on our fellas from ch 95 :D

also she bc i have not seen her in the bg of the last chapter SDLFJSDKL gave her a little dress and everything!!! if you don't know who she is, more info on this little canon background character under the cut:

so her first appearance as far as i know is in the concept art shown at the end of volume 2!! here she is

i don't know japanese so i can't read what the text above her head says, but iirc she was supposed to be anya's friend as well! might still happen, i hold out hope, i like her design.

in terms of CANON appearances though, she's a background character! doesn't appear as much as other recurring girls because the ones who have the most appearances thus far are the desmond fangirls, which she's not a part of, but some of her appearances are:

chapter 25 (arts and crafts chapter, she's in damian and anya's group)

and chapter 28 (george chapter, she's part of the dance)

not sure if she has more notable appearances besides that, but she still appears nonetheless! as far back as chapter 9, in fact, which speaking of, here's where she is in class:

and here she is during the bus arc (panel from chapter 70):

idk if she'll ever be friends w anya and becky but esp w the impending class switch I HOLD OUT HOPE FOR HER! I LIKE HER DESIGN SHE SEEMS NICE!!!

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

"Mommy didn't give you permission to touch yourself, now did I?"

Sugar Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: 500 follower celebration! Thank you so much lol I appreciate the love and support towards my stories!!

CW: magic sex, belly bulge, rough sex, punishment, oral, pussy slapping, overstimulation, use of mommy kink, tentacle-ish, enchanted strap, this is very smutty basically think of absolute filth, aftercare at the end

The response to your needy question is downright cruel.

No.

A simple one worded response that carries significant weight. You huff, brows furrowed, an angry gaze on the screen. Fingers tap against the screen quickly.

Please?

You wait for the other person to respond, eyes focused on the chat bubble that appeared. Your heart thumps against your chest, body exploding in heat and excitement. You expected the response you were hoping for, only to be disappointed once more.

I said no, love. You can wait.

You groan, the ache between your thighs ruthless and painful. Velvet heat leaking arousal, clit throbbing and poking out from between your glistening folds. The bundle of nerves rubs against your folds and you whimper, fighting the urge to reach down and rub yourself. You lay on the bed, naked, shaking legs spread wide open. You're desperate for relief. Huffing out breaths, face hot and body exploding with heat. Desire is brewing within you, begging for you to give to what it wants. Your fingers twitch, ready at a moment's notice to dive between your folds and pump in and out of your fluttering slit. Except you were told no.

Okay, Mommy. Come home soon.

Don't worry baby. I will. Keep that pretty cunt waiting for me.

You shut off your phone and slam it against the nightstand, rubbing your hands against your face. Your pussy sobs, practically begging for you to play with her. But you can't, because Wanda told you to wait. She'll be home soon to help bring you relief. You lay on your side, rubbing your thighs together, the friction barely there. You close your eyes, keeping your mind off your wet core, but your arm brushes against an erect nipple and it sends a shiver down your spine.

The simplest touch is enough for you to squirm, the fluttering of your leaking hole forcing you to bite back a whimper. Sensitive to the touch, gooseflesh trailing up your arms. Huffing out short breaths, chest heaving. The room is sweltering hot. Sweat coats your body. You're struggling, clearly, to focus on other things than how drenched your aching core is.

You continue to rub your thighs together, your hand massaging your breast, and you bite down on your lip, heat pooling in your stomach. Oh, how great it'll be to rub circles into your pulsing clit. To reach into the nightstand and shove a vibrator deep within yourself. Dirty thoughts fill your mind of the many things you could do to yourself. Hump a pillow. Bounce on a dildo. Perhaps run into the shower and hold the shower head against your cunt while it shoots water.

Remember, Wanda explicitly told you no. Once she gives you a firm order, that's it. No changing her mind or begging her to give in. Wanda herself is wanting to please you. She said she'll be home to take care of you. Just wait.

You're trying desperately to fight off the urge to touch yourself, but when you spread your thighs, they're cover in slick.

You sit up and spread yourself open, whimpering. You're soaking wet, clit neglected and throbbing heavily in vengeance. Heat engulfs your shivering body, sweat beading along your firey flesh. So wet. So desperate to be relieved. You trace a finger over your folds, shivering from the warm fluids that gush out of your hole from the motion.

Well...if you made yourself cum once, she won't know. It doesn't hurt to touch yourself in secret. You just need to hurry before she comes back home, which is soon.

Because if Wanda returned home during the moment you're relieving yourself, you'll be in big trouble.

You lay back and spread your legs open, slipping two fingers into yourself. They go in with ease, a wet shliiick emitting from your sopping wet cunt. Easily you're knuckle deep, gummy walls constricting around your fingers. You moan, the ache subsiding and replaced with tremendous pleasure.

This is what you needed.

The relief.

You pump your fingers in and out of your heat, back arched off the bed, raspy moans escaping your swollen lips. As you please yourself, you think about Wanda. Your sugar mommy. You picture her standing above you, grinding her pussy against yours, her head against her shoulders as her melodic, wanton moans fill the room. You pick up the pace of your fingers, thumb rubbing circles onto your clit.

"M-Mommy," you pant, picturing her hands gripping your hips in a bruising grip as she buries her thick strap deep into your cunt. The same strap that kisses your cervix, begging to enter deeper. You imagine that scenario, your pussy squirting at the thought of it. You cry out in pleasure, thinking of how hard she's pounding into your with her giant cock and how every thrust sends stars into your vision. "Oh, mommy, yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

Wanda is obliterating your cunt, the girthy strap rubbing against your clit. You cry out in pleasure, begging for her to show you no mercy. She pins your arms against your back and props one leg onto the mattress, drilling deeper and harder into your puffy sex. God, you need her.

While you're too busy getting yourself off, you didn't notice the flash of red appear in the room. Didn't notice Wanda, in her superhero suit, standing in the middle of the room, in front of the bed, watching in surprise at you finger fucking yourself. She shakes off the momentary shock before sauntering to the edge of the bed, hands on the bed frame, eyes on you as you finger yourself and whine 'mommy'.

She's smirking, one brow raised, wondering how much longer it'll take for you to notice she's back home. She rocks back and forth on her feet, unable to believe-yet able to-that you disobeyed her. She was eager to return home and fuck you, perhaps rewarding you for waiting patiently for her, yet here you are, being a bad girl.

Wanda eyes your two fingers buried deep in your weeping cunt, amused at how you're barely able to handle two of your own fingers when you've taken her fat cock perfectly fine. It's cute, really, and pathetic. A weak stream of cream shoots out of your cunt and she laughs airily, shaking her head.

"Poor baby, can't even get yourself to squirt properly," Wanda said with the click of her tongue.

Hearing her voice snaps you back to reality. You freeze, cunt squeezing around your fingers, and you lift your head up, wishing what you heard was your imagination. Yet there she was, standing at the foot of the bed staring at you. Her dark, heated gaze sends a shiver down your spine and you slowly pull your fingers out of yourself, gulping.

"I, um-"

"Mommy didn't give you permission to touch yourself, now did I?" she asks cooly, walking around the bed and sitting beside you. You attempt to sit up, but she places a hand on your chest and pushes you back down. "Well?"

A look of shame appears on your face and you're unable to meet her eye. "I couldn't help myself, mommy. I-I needed to relieve myself, and you said no-"

"Exactly," she said, cutting you clean off. Her playful expression melts away and she's stern, her fingers thrumming against your flushed chest. "I told you no, to wait for me, and what did you do?"

Pure hot shame burns into your cheeks now, words dying on the tip of your tongue. You stutter our your words and curse silently to yourself, hating that you're unable to speak. You're hoping she'll drop the question, except she places two fingers beneath your chin and forces you to meet her gaze, a brow raised. She's not going to repeat herself. She'll stare long enough until you break, and break you do.

"Mommy, I was so horny, I couldn't help it!" you defend yourself, and you're able to hear how pathetic you sound. You should be embarrassed by yourself, yet you continue to plead your case instead of apologizing for disobeying. "You were out at work and I needed to feel good and-"

"Baby, I didn't ask for excuses," she chides, standing up. She places her hands on her hips, eyeing your naked body. Her intense gaze sends goosebumps up your arms and you whimper involuntarily, pussy letting out a gush of fluids. Her silky curly hair brushes against the sides of her face while she shakes her head, clicking her fingers and a flash of red appears, her suit gone; leaving her standing naked in front of you.

The mere sight of her left your breathless. No longer is she trapping her soft, muscular body in her red suit. Your eyes gaze over the expanse of her olive brown skin, noting the muscles she's built up in her arms and back. Her plush thighs and rounded hips. She shakes her head and rubs the back of her neck, curls of brown hair bouncing by her movements. She twists her body to stretch and you indulge on her backside, biting down on your lip at the sight of her shapely ass.

Wanda sighs in relief, eyes half lidded and expression relaxed. It's nice to be free from a skin tight suit. She notices your awed expression and her lips curl into a small smile, green eyes brewing with desire. She grabs your ankle and pulls you down to the edge of the bed, caressing your inner thigh. "Remind me of what'll happen if you broke the most important rule," she demands, voice thick and dripping with lust. The most important rule was no touching yourself without permission, of course.

A rule that you knew and still disobeyed.

You shudder out a breath, body exploding in tingles and heat. "Punishment," you whisper, jumping when she lightly slaps your thigh. "I-I receive a punishment from mommy."

Wanda grins, nodding her head in confirmation. "That's right, baby, because you've been a naughty girl for mommy and mommy needs to punish you." She then softens, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "What's the safe word?" she whispers into your ear, her hand holding yours.

You smile, turning your head to nuzzle your nose against her cheek. "Red," you say, squeezing her hand affectionately.

"When can you use the safe word?"

"At any time."

"Good," she said, planting a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away. "Just wanted to make sure you remember." If you felt pain, or were tired, or simply wanted to stop, you'll say the safe word and she'll stop. Doesn't matter if it's just starting or in the middle of sex. It's important that both parties are having fun.

Wanda sinks back into her dominant role, eyes flashing red. She reaches out a hand, the tips of her fingers sparking, and suddenly your arms are restrained above your head and your legs spread wide apart by tendrils of red. She licks her lips at the sight of you, trembling and helpless and soaking.

"Such a naughty, dirty girl," Wanda coos, her fingers trailing up and down your leg. "I wonder how I put up with you." She sits on her knees on top the mattress, close to you, and you couldn't help but stare at her pussy. You lick your lips, seeing that you're not the only one with a sopping wet cunt. Wanda notices where your gaze is and she laughs breathlessly. "You want a taste of mommy's cunt?"

You nod your head, eyes on her pussy. "Yes, please," you say almost too eagerly, and she clicks her tongue, reaching over to tap her finger on your chin.

"Do you think you deserve to eat mommy out? After doing what you did?"

"Well...mommy, please, maybe I can make you feel good and you can make me wait," you offer as a compromise.

"Oh, so you're deciding the punishment now?" she asks, raising her brow at you sternly. She'll admit, it's tempted to do it. To ride your tongue and leaving your leaking pussy aching. Hell, her cunt throbs at the thought of it, but ultimately, you're not in charge of deciding your punishment.

Before you would say anything, Wanda slips her thumb into your wet, warm mouth, causing you to whimper. You didn't hesitate to suck nosily on it. You swirl your tongue around her thumb and suction your lips, moaning, and she knows you're trying to get into her good graces. Wanda knows how much of an effect her pussy has on you, but did you really think she was going to let you have your way?

"Does you want something to suck on?" she purrs, pressing her thumb against your tongue.

A shiver runs down your spine, half-lidded eyes on her sultry face. You nod your head, moaning around her thumb. She removes her thumb and you expected her to shove her breast into your mouth, but a red tendril hovers above your mouth.

"I think this will do the job," she says, arms crossed over her chest. Droplets of substance leaks onto your face, the liquid warm and pleasant smelling. "They're a aphrodisiac, the liquid. Meant to increase your sexual desires," she explains. "Tastes really good, too." She says as if she's tried it before.

You stare up at the leaking red tendril, heart beating. The tendril doesn't move an inch but it pulses with life, light pink droplets continuing to spill onto your face. Delicious, Wanda claims. You peer over at the woman, who sits leisurely on her hip, legs tucked behind her, curly hair draped over her shoulder. She's humming quietly, green eyes focused on your expression and body language, her lips curved into a smile. She waits for you, of course, to give the go ahead. The lust burning in her eyes has your stomach doing a somersault, slit fluttering.

And you'll admit, it's definitely piqued your interest, this red tendril. This is the only tendril glistening, as the others holding you down are dry yet smooth and soft. You lean up to kitten lick the tip and whatever it's wet with melts onto your taste buds. Oh, it's heavenly. Sweet and smooth, the taste leaving you craving more.

"I like it," you gasp, licking up and down the tendril. Liquid fire courses through your veins, heat pulsing throughout your body. Your stomach twists and twitches, your hips shuddering. "I want it," you confirm, leaning back and opening your mouth. Saliva connects your lips together, tongue reaching out to lick it up.

Wanda caresses your trembling stomach. "That's my good girl."

The tendril pumps into your mouth and you moan, squirming against the mattress. The substance fills your mouth and you swallow it all, gasping, tongue swirling around the tendril. Swallowing the liquids causes the fires of pleasure to burst into untamable flames. Your flushed skin heats up tenfold, nipples erect and sensitive, sopping wet pussy gushing out arousal and clit throbbing out between your folds.

You moan around the tendril, arms and legs squirming in their restraints, breasts bouncing as your body jolts.

God, you're on fire and your cunt is aching. You whine, gasping for air when the tendril pulls back momentarily.

"M-Mommy, I'm so hot," you complain, trying to look over at Wanda, yet the tendril shoves itself back into your mouth, thrusting.

Wanda chuckles softly, the tips of her fingers gliding over your plush thighs. The slight contact is enough to get your back arched off the bed, fluids sprinkling out of your trembling pussy.

"So needy," Wanda teases, settling herself on her knees. Both hands now caress your thighs and a muffled moan emits from you, eyes fluttering shut. You suck on the tendril, swallowing it's sickly sweet substance that enhances your senses. You gasp when you feel two more squeeze your breasts, their tips rolling your nipples in painfully slow circles. The toying of your breasts adds onto the stimulation and you shudder, chest heaving.

Wanda places two fingers on your pussy lips and spreads you open with a wet 'shliick', teeth biting down on her bottom lip at the glorious sight: slit leaking and fluttering, clit pulsing, desperate to be touched, and when she spreads you open further, she catches a glimpse of your gummy walls, watching as they clamp around air.

She moans at the sight, fighting back the urge to bury her face deep into your pussy. "Mm, dirty dirty girl," she laughs breathlessly, licking her lips. She squeezes your filthy cunt in her hand and you whine, squirming against her hand. "Mommy is going to give you a few spankings, and you're going to take them like the naughty girl you are."

Wanda removes her hand, your sticky fluids connecting her palm to your glistening folds. She tongues the inside of her check, bringing her palm up to her face to observe the secretions you left behind.

"Dirty little whore."

With that being said, she lands a gentle yet firm smack against your filthy cunt, arousal sprinkling everywhere.

A muffled yelp emits from you, body squirming. Wanda smacks your sopping wet pussy once more and she muses over how puffy your dirty cunt becomes.

Two red tendrils begin to massage your body, pressing against your waist and smoothing over your stomach. You moan from the added stimulation, body sweltering in heat, tingling all over.

Wanda continues to spank your heat, eating up your muffled cries and moans. She's not harsh, but the stinging pain is there. A wonderful feeling added to the throbbing of your clit and fluttering hole.

She licks her hand and lands one more blow onto your cunt, nearly jumping in surprise when your pussy squirts.

"Dirty girl...you love it when mommy spanks your pussy, hm?"

Her green eyes trail up your body when you don't immediately respond and see you've lost yourself in sucking the tendril off, eyes rolled to the back of your head. A mixture of spit and the substance coats your chin and cheeks, neck and the top of your chest covered in the mixture.

Wanda shakes her head, clicking her fingers. The tendril pulls out and disappears now that it's completed it's job. "Look at the mess you made," she playfully chides, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at her. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

You mumble something and she quirks a brow. "Hm? What was that?"

"Sit on my face," you huff out, more clearly now. You lick your lips, staring at her with such intensity it sends a shiver down her spine. "Mommy, please, I w-want to taste you. I'm so hungry for you." Wanda hears the desperation in your voice. The burning desire. Your hands clench, and she knows if it weren't for the tendrils restraining you, she'll be on her back and your hands pushing against her plush thighs, tongue eagerly lapping up her juices.

You drop your eyes down to her cunt and lick your lips slowly and delicately, which allows her the brief indulgence of picturing your tongue doing the exact thing to her dripping pussy. She rolls her bottom lip between her incisors- she'll never deny that you're amazing at giving head. You're practically eating her out nearly all the time.

She pretends to consider your request, tapping her finger against her chin. This is a punishment, not a reward. You've done something you weren't supposed to, and need to be a taught a lesson for being a naughty.

Which is why she lights up with an idea.

Wanda kisses the corner of your mouth, giggling when you try to chase after her lips with your own. "You want to eat mommy's pussy that badly, hm?"

You nod your head fervently, practically drooling at the thought of devouring her delectable cunt. "Yes! Oh, yes, please," you beg oh so pathetically, the most delicious submissive expression on your heated face. "Please, please let me make you feel good, mommy."

Wanda blows air against your neck and you gasp lightly, chest rubbing against hers.

"You're adorable when you beg, my love," Wanda sensually says, placing her knees on either side of your head, her wet pussy in perfect view. Your breath quickens, eagerly awaiting for her to plant herself right on your mouth. "Except naughty girls don't get what they want."

Wanda hovers above your face and begins to finger herself. She pumps two fingers in and out of her slit, head falling back on her shoulders. Her sweat covered body trembles as she pleases herself, wanton moans spilling from her lips.

You watch her fingers burrow themselves deep into her velvet heat, wet squelches emitting from the motion. You whine in protest, brows furrowed, and attempt to lean up to lick her clit, except a red tendril wraps around your throat and pulls you back, preventing you from tasting her.

"Mommy, mommy please," you plead with her, squirming exceptionally hard against the restraints. "Sit on my face! Let me make you feel good!"

Wanda ignores your pretty pleas, too focused on the way her joints brush along her g-spot and her knuckles repeatedly bumping against her throbbing clit. Heat engulfs her body and she chokes on a moan, hips stuttering. Sweet nectar drips onto your face and you desperately catch every drop, wishing her cunt was suffocating you at this very moment.

Instead you're forced to watch Wanda please herself, her pretty moans echoing in the room. She's cruel for this. While you lay restrained, she's bouncing on her fingers, leaking all over your face. You ache for her to ride your tongue, but all you can do is watch this wonderful yet cruel show.

"Yes! Yes!" Wanda keened, hunched in on herself. "Feels so good! So good! Ah!" Soon she's squirting all over your face with a loud scream, and you're attempting to catch every drop of her fluids, not daring to let any to go to waste. She sits back on your stomach, catching her breath.

You lick your lips, frowning. "Mommy," you mumble, squirming. "You're mean to me."

She laughs at your claim, shaking her head. "Oh, am I mean?" she teases, gently caressing her folds and satisfied at the neediness brewing up in you. "Well, maybe you should've thought of that before disobeying mommy, hm?" She sits up and brushes her knuckles along your cheek, green eyes gleaming with mischief. "I was very disappointed to see that." And aroused, too, of course.

Shame burns into your cheeks again and you look away, lips pursed. "I-I couldn't wait any long, mommy," you defend. "I was...thinking about you. Thinking about the things you could do to me."

Wanda hums in response to that, recalling your pretty moans and whimpers of 'mommy'. She begins to kiss your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. "Tell mommy every naughty thought you had," she murmurs, licking over a vein. "Mommy wants to know how dirty her girl is."

A tremor runs through your body and you gasp, arching your breast up into your mouth as she sucks on a nipple. You breath heavily, gulping, unsure how to bring up the imagery of Wanda pounding your pussy into oblivious. It's embarrassing to admit out loud what you were thinking, which is exactly what Wanda wants.

She swirls her tongue around your belly button, smirking at your breathless gasps. "Well?" she asks, voice husky in desire. She's hovering above your weeping cunt, half hooded eyes trained on your face. "Aren't you going to tell mommy your dirty thoughts?" She licks a stripe up your pussy and you cry out, hole fluttering and gushing out fluids. "Tell mommy every naught thought you had while mommy eats you out..."

Her lips attach to your damp pussy, a moan eliciting from the both of you. Her tongue laps over your leaking slit, sweet juices melting onto her taste buds heavenly.

You tell her every dirty thought you had of her while her tongue pumps into your pussy. With a strained voice, you moan about her thrusting into you with the big strap on, the one with ridges, pinning you down and completely obliterating you. Drool trickles down your chin, breasts bouncing with your movements. She's devouring your pussy as if this were her final meal; sucking on your bundle of nerves, spreading your lips and mouthing at your hole, licking all over your dirty cunt before burying her face back into it.

Your filthy cunt is a mess of fluids and saliva, clit pulsating and hole clenched around her tongue. Your wanton moans fill the room, your jumps and thrashing causing the bed to creak.

Wanda isn't holding back.

She's sloppily eating you out, fingers pressed into your plush thighs. She opens her eyes half-way to stare up at you, laughing breathily at your wanton expression. You might enjoy eating her out, but she believes she takes the cake for pussy eating.

Pretty cunt squirming against her mouth, clit jumping every time she swirls her tongue around it. She takes note of your wetness and how you're practically squirting the entire time. Your moans and squeals spur her on and even after you cum, she can't stop. She's not sure if she's able to physically remove herself off your delectable pussy that beckons for her to devour.

You heave out a gasp, back inches off the bed as her lips wrap around your clit for what seems like the millionth time and sucks harshly. Your poor bundle of nerves throbs pathetically, over stimulation wracking through it. Your puffy sex is weeping, every lick and suck and kiss causing you to jerk and cry out.

"M-Mommy! Too much! It's too much!" you mewl, struggling against your restraints.

All Wanda has to do is place a hand on your belly and warmth spreads through your veins, the over stimulation disappearing. It's as if she's eating you out for the first time tonight and your eyes roll back, tongue slipping out to coat your chin in spit.

"Mommy's finished when she's finished," Wanda mumbled from between your folds, fixing at sultry gaze on your flushed face. "Unless you don't like mommy eating you out?" She does the worst thing possible and moves her mouth off your soaking cunt and you shake your head.

"No! No don't stop!"

"Mmm, that's what I thought," she purrs right before plopping her mouth right back on your puffy sex.

The world spins as she devours you over and over again, using her magic to reset your pussy. The pleasure is endless and you're greedy for it. You don't want it to end. You want her all to yourself and to never stop licking your pussy.

However, after your eight orgasm, she doesn't soothe you again. She lets you feel the over stimulation, pussy throbbing against your mouth and you screaming at the top of your lungs. God, it's heavenly, though. The feeling of over stimulation after cumming multiple times without that exact relief afterwards. She doesn't keep eating you out after getting you to cum again.

Wanda reluctantly removes herself off your cunt, licking her lips. Half her face is coated in your delicious juices, and she allows herself the briefest moment of observing your cunt. Throbbing. Swollen. Soaking wet. Clit poking through your puffy folds and twitching. She moans at the sight and gives your poor pussy a slap.

"We'll have to do that again soon," she says, standing off the bed and stretching out her body.

You sigh out a breath, nodding in agreement. To your surprise, while Wanda slips into a strap, a red tendril brings up a glass of water to your lips. You happily accept the cold water and relief floods through your body as the cold liquid fills your body. Your heart melts a bit, because Wanda is taking care of you.

Said woman stands at the edge of the bed, wearing your favorite thick strap with the ridges. You whimper at the sight, pussy quivering. She wraps her hand around the girth and whispers something in a language you don't understand, eyes and hand glowing red. Light flashes around the dildo, causing it to throb once before settling down.

"You enchanted it?" you ask as she climbs into the bed, slicking her cock up with lube. She's extra generous with it, going as far as to pour some onto your cunt.

"Mmhmm," she says, positioning the tip at your entrance. She snaps her fingers and all the tendrils disappear, freeing you from the restraints. "I enchanted it so I'm able to feel your pretty little pussy squeezing around me." She shivers in excitement, tonguing the inside of her cheek, one brow raised. She's dying to try this.

"That's kinda cool," you chuckle, cheeks flushed as she peppers kisses into the side of your face. Her body hovers above yours, tapping your legs to have them wrap around your waist.

Her lips hover above your ear, warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'm not going to hold back," she whispers, nibbling on your lobe. "Mommy's going to make sure you know nothing else but my cock."

She teasingly rubs her cock between your folds and you moan, legs tightening around her waist. "O-Oh, yes, mommy."

"This is your punishment for being a dirty girl and touching yourself," she purrs, tapping her cock against your clit. "Only mommy touches her dirty girl." She licks your neck and repositions herself back at your entrance, tip poking your. "You want mommy's cock, hm? Want mommy to fuck you with her big, fat cock?"

You nod desperately, bucking your hips. "Please!"

"If only you could be good like this all the time," she chuckles, and then she shoves herself in.

Her cock enters with a loud wet squelch, her girth spreading your gummy walls apart. You let out a gasp, arms immediately going to wrap around her neck for support; chest arches into hers, breasts rubbing against each other. The warmth and tightness of your cunt sends her spiraling, her mouth dropping open to choke out a moan.

"So tight," Wanda pants, rolling her hips to allow you to adjust to her size, "and you're so wet." She laughs breathlessly, face pressed against the side of your face. "Does mommy make you this way?"

She's only half-way in and god you're stuffed. "Y-Yes," you rasp, holding onto her for dear life. "Mommy makes my pussy so wet!"

She nibbles on your jawline, her hands gripping the bed sheets. "Your pussy feels sooo good," she coos, almost like she's drunk off the feeling of your dirty cunt. "Oh, mommy is going to destroy you, baby."

The moment Wanda bottoms out, she's thrusting into you, the force of your hips causing your body to rock up and down the bed. A bulge had formed in your belly, which disappears and reappears with her thrusts. Her cock drags against your velvety walls, her tip kissing your cervix.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" you scream out, head falling back against your shoulders.

Wanda captures your lips for a heated kiss, swallowing up every sinful noise you make. You kiss her back hungrily, the back of your heel bumping into her ass cheek, encouraging her further. Tongues graze against each other, swirling around the other before entering each other's mouths.

Wanda keeps herself propped up on her forearms, cock drilling deep into your puffy sex. Your filthy cunt froths on her cock, coating her cock in white cream, which she fucks back into you. Squelching noises emit from your pussy, arousal sprinkling everywhere.

You break away from the kiss to gasp for air, dropping your head back further to allow her lips to plant scorching kisses upon your neck.

"Mommy loves your pussy," she murmurs into the crook of your neck, grabbing one of your legs to hook over your shoulder. "Mommy can't get enough...oh god!"

As promised, Wanda obliterates your sloppy pussy. She puts you in all sorts of positions, but her favorite is you face down ass up, her hands on your hips and forcing you to meet her powerful thrusts.

She teases you relentlessly.

"Aww, poor baby can't handle mommy's cock?"

"Is mommy's cock too big?"

"Oh, you love mommy's cock!"

Wanda is either pressing on the stomach bulge or has you press down on it, as your pussy clamps down harder on her cock from it.

Your sinful moans bounce around the room mixed in with her own. Thanks to the enchantment on her cock, she's able to feel your velvet heat. Gummy walls clenched tightly around her girth. Pretty pussy dripping wet. Warmth enveloping her massive cock. The ridges on her cock rubs against all the right spots and you're sobbing into the mattress about how good you feel.

At this point, the two of you lost count of each other's orgasms. The pleasure and over stimulation felt too good to focus on that.

Wanda made sure to remember why it's important to obey her rules, because if you're good for her, it's simple: good girls receive rewards. What do bad girls receive? Punishment, obviously. It was clear enough when you watched her finger herself and you weren't allowed to eat her out. That was pure torture watching her heavenly pussy leak above you and you couldn't do anything about it.

And now she has you pressed into the mattress, destroying your pussy.

"Do you promise not to break any of mommy's rules?" she questioned, giving your ass a firm smack. She rolls her hips and slams her cock into you, barely giving you the chance to answer.

"Ah! I-I'll try not to, mommy!"

"That wasn't a promise."

You bite down on your lip, eyes rolled to the back of your head. You can't make a promise you're not going to keep. Not anytime soon will you break a rule, but if you want mommy to get rough with you, then what else are you to do?

Wanda clicks her tongue, chest heaving. Sweat rolls down the sides of her face and she licks sweat off her top lip, shaking her head. "You're mommy's naughty girl, hm?"

She flips you onto your back and presses your legs into your chest, her feet on either side of your hips. She thrusts deep into your abused pussy, her cock absolutely destroying you.

"It's a good thing mommy is here to put you in your place," she pants, head falling down as the warmth of your cunt is too much.

The two of you say nothing except create the beautiful melody of sinful moans. Soon, for one final time, the two of you cum together with loud screams. Wanda's body shakes and she falls onto her side, cock sliding out of you with a loud wet 'shliiick'.

Your legs drop down, twitching, and you stare up at the ceiling, desperately trying to catch your breath. Both you and Wanda stay like that for five minutes, bodies spent and covered in sweat.

Soon, she scoots over to you, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you against her. She nuzzles her nose against your cheek, pressing a soft kiss into it.

"Feeling okay?" she whispers, cupping your cheek and having you look at her.

You give her a tired smile, pressing your forehead against hers. "Never better," you mumble, capturing her lips for a quick, delicate kiss before wrapping your arms around her and cuddling her.

An hour later the two of you are showered, in t-shirts and replenished with food and water, now entangled in each other's limbs and watching a movie.

Wanda scratches at your back, laying her head against yours, and your arms and legs wrap around her, head resting on her shoulder.

"I love you, (reader)."

"I love you too, Wanda."

[1d1195]

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

*

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

*

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

--

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[god-syndicate-if]

DEMO - Latest release on 11/15/2024 - Current wordcount 90k.

COG forum You've always been angry.

Rage comes naturally to you. With how much life has messed with you it's only fair that you use your anger. That's why you became a boxer. The thrill of breaking an opponent. And hoping they might break you in turn. They never do though. Every fight is a disappointment, almost as much of a disappointment as they pay for each fight.

Enter Jackie Roth, club owner, mob boss, and former god. When she offers you a job you can't say no. Not that you would, not when she and everyone in her gang feel so familiar to you. At least with this job you'll be able to use that rage inside you more.

As you learn the ways of the criminal underground you reconnect with people you never met. Reforge bonds that you've never made. And recall memories you've never had. You were a god once upon a time, can you become one again?

God Syndicate is an interactive novel where you play the newest incarnation of Ares, The God of War. It's 18+ for violence, explicit sexual themes, drug use, morally questionable behavior, and more.

Customize your MC, play male, female, or nonbinary. With transgender options and pronoun selection. Customize your appearance and develop your personality.

Romance or befriend a cast of characters, including gods with more issues than you can count or even a mortal! Asexual and Aromantic options available.

Show the gods why you were feared all those years ago or prove that you're better than your past lives.

Uncover the mystery of disappearing gods as well as the mystery of your past.

Help out Elysium, the club where you'll practically live from now on. It seems to attract gods and that isn't always good.

Take out your anger on people who might even deserve it.

Zeus: Jackie Roth - She/Her. [Not an RO]

Jackie is The King of The Gods and she makes sure everyone knows it. Her word is law in Elysium and beyond. Fail her and you'll have a storm waiting for you. In the years since your disappearance Jackie's love for her family has seem to only grow. But she has a criminal empire to run and you're just the weapon she needs.

Hermes: Riley Liao Zhi - Gender Selectable. [RO]

The Messenger of The Gods. Or in Riley's case, the ever bored personal assistant to Jackie. Riley's an adrenaline junkie with a heart of gold. As the one who found you they feel almost responsible for you. But why do they also seem so afraid of you?

Apollo: Franco Valerio - He/Him. [RO]

As expected of The God of Music, Franco's your classic rich and famous rock star. Well he would be, if only he could get out of Elysium. His love of singing and love of his family are two chains he can't break that tie him here. Will your arrival help break those chains or tighten them?

Aphrodite: Damiana "Dame" Rivette - Gender Selectable. [RO]

Quiet and Serious, Dame is no longer The God of Love they once were. The passion of their life faded and now bitterness grows where love should. The only friend they have in Elysium seems to be their fiance, Johnny. To make their life even worse, you arrive.

The Mortal: Sigourney Hawthorn - She/Her. [RO]

Newly divorced from a god, Sigrouney struggles with juggling her (demigod) child, relentless job, and love life. As her daughter, Claudia, grows she wonders if she can keep up or if she'll be left behind. And now with your arrival Claudia's godly family gets bigger and her presence gets smaller.

Artemis: Rebel Reyes - Gender Selectable [RO]

How can The God of the Hunt thrive in the city? The prey here are either too weak or too annoying to hunt. The only thing Rebel craves is to feel that thrill again. With your arrival they have a perfect chance, who better to hunt than the God of War? They can't wait to meet you.

The Old Flame: Harper Ward - Gender Selectable [RO]

A friend from a better time. Harper and you were once inseparable. They saw you at your darkest and kept you calm. Years after an explosive break up they've reemerged into your life far different than you knew them. Can you find the dying embers of your old friend? Is it even worth the pain?

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[chipistrate]

HAND SAGA MENTION LETS GO

Hiiiiiiii Haz :3

Whom do you think the HW2 protag is I'm curious

hiiii chipity :3

Well you see my friend i am very caught because well you see.

….there is. So much…. I’m just gonna say. NOT CASSIE’S DAD FOR SURESIES. Peace and love… my biggest contrasting things are the hands vs. being the last security employee if it’s a kid or nessa but shrug emoji. I’m content waiting and seeing :3 what do you think!!!